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Post by Pearl Dragon on Nov 10, 2019 21:12:32 GMT -6
[Kira does a brave and goes back for the boy. She will come up behind the man and attempt a leg-stab then try and pull the boy towards the tunnel]
Kira winced again as another dark stab of pain out of nowhere suddenly seized her. Her gesturing hand lowered to her abdomen and she doubled, trying to bear through it. Her wing throbbed in unision and when it finally subsided some, she huddled by the corner.
A splash as something falls from above, and then a crackling sound drew her attention back towards the two figures. She noticed with some surprise that the old man had finally begun to move. He was headed straight for the boy, and a suffocating heaviness once again descended all around her. She watched, breathless and panicked as the old man came down on the boy, grabbing the young figure by the arm and then the neck in a choking grip. He shoved the boy into the water, and Kira just about barked a retaliatory "-stop!" as the boy went below the surface. She stood, whimpering and pleading like she had for the man Sarkany. However, unlike before, this one certainly didn't' seem on friendly terms at all. She couldn't just stay there, couldn't just watch as another ally met their potential doom after they'd helped save her life.
Fighting with all her might, Kira broke through her hesitation and began to wade her way back towards the struggling figures. She pushed her way quickly through the water, breaths labored and fruitless in the suffocating air, and lunged at the man's legs. Her good arm flew forward, aiming for the back of the man's calf or thigh, whatever she could get at first and let the bur within its sheath stab forward. She stayed low, eyes turned with terrified disbelief at what she was even doing up at the man, hoping that if he turned on her then she could duck under him and make a grab for the boy.
If successful, she would try and get the boy up, then head for the tunnel again to get away from both the old man and the suffocating darkness. "..'urry!" she croaked.
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Post by Vaitris on Nov 10, 2019 22:30:51 GMT -6
[OOC: Hau wants to finish this. He coats the door and the floor around it with ice as the white beast has to push it open, trying to surround him and force him to slip or to touch/get burned by the gray goo. If he succeeds in ending the fight or the white beast still manages to leave the room, Hau will make a break for the right-hand door. Rolled a 14.]
As gray bubbled out of his ice, Hau's heart sank. He hadn't at all expected that to happen and he hoped fervently he didn't just make the situation on the other side of door worse for Sara and her companions. He didn't want to sic more monsters on them with the state they were in. Though, on the plus side, he'd cut the white beast off from pursuing them. Only an idiot would attempt to push through the gray after seeing what it had done to the boy.
But he also had a way to control the spread of that horrible gray scourge and he was quick to decide on a way to use it. He had tried and failed before to hit moving targets less agile than this beast, so he fell back on old tricks.
The wolf monster was turning to flee out the center door so Hau threw his ice all about the door and the floor around it just as it would be pushing it open, trying to trap the white beast. If it slipped in the ice it would be prone long enough to freeze. Or perhaps the gray ooze would cover it and sear it, finally ending this fight. If that failed he'd continue his icy assault, cutting off the white wolf's access to the doors while Hau himself backed up to the hole in the back of the room, reserving that exit for himself only. But if the beast somehow managed to escape he'd run for the right-hand door instead and flee while there was still an opportunity to do so.
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Post by Sharei on Nov 10, 2019 23:09:06 GMT -6
[OOC: Draggo picks up Cassius' discarded bag on the way into the room, sees the grey, and packs Sara's items away into the bag. He leads Sarkany away toward the door Sara indicated. ]
The run from the game room to the treasure trove couldn't have been more than a couple of dozen steps and yet the screaming agony in his back suggested thousands. He could feel the creeping burn of it, soothed only by the figurine his father proffered, but it was only a minor respite from the pain. Every movement sent a new wave of tremors through his legs, and it was hard to blot out.
Fear was the key factor in doing so, thankfully, and that was in no short supply. Fear for his father, who was as badly burned and suffering; fear for Sara, the only able-bodied among them, but oh so easily changed; fear of the creatures pursing them which could not be cut or harmed; fear for Cassius and what might have happened to him. All of these passed through his mind as they ran, and that fear gave him the clarity to act in the moment.
He scooped up Cassius' abandoned bag as they passed through the door he had only just recently vacated and threw the strap over his shoulder. None too soon, either, as Sara dumped her items on him and sprinted off to do - something. He called after her, a warning of alarm, but there was a creature forming behind them and something clawing out of the statue, and they didn't have time to sit around and talk about it. Sarkany came first.
"Be careful!"
With Sarkany supporting him as much as he was supporting Sarkany, the dragon packed away what he could in the bag, hefted the spear and helped turn them toward the door Sara had indicated.
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Post by MP on Nov 11, 2019 2:42:02 GMT -6
ALL: The air pulses in a sickening, steady rhythm. It pounds in your ears, squirms in your chest, an oily intrusion into your thoughts. It's everywhere in the tomb now, a constant presence. It's hungry - so very hungry. Waiting for more.
Ari: Several moments of silence pass after Ari's words. Air moans through the mouth of the well, brushing through the raised stones and over his hands like hot breath. No movement. No sound.
Then an answering tug.
The strands of the rope groan and jounce as the climbing resumes. The swaying of the rope tells Ari that the weight is somewhere far below. Getting closer. Through the blazing light, the shifter can just make out a silhouette, moving hand over hand up the rope.
But there's still no response to his call. The climber doesn't acknowledge him, and the weight on the rope is off. It's far too light to be the darai. The silhouette is getting closer. Its proportions are too shrunken, its limbs too thin. In another few moments, it will reach the top. The light of the well is almost blinding now, making it impossible to see the climber's face.
Edge and Kira: Edge's items: chipped knife, simple knife, silver chain Kira's items: carved fragment, ornate key
The burbat's spur sinks through the robes and deep into papery skin. The knee splits open like a wasp's nest, belching forth an oily column of smoke that Edge may recognize. The old man feels like one of the pustules. The sight of him, the unnatural movements of his body beneath the rags, leaves the two with the same sickening, unclean feeling.
The old man turns with a crackle of bones. Stumbles as his spewing knee folds in on itself. He's pulled sideways and into Edge, his weight bearing the two of them down into the water. The Darai is submerged in the tarry sludge, trapped beneath the mass of rags. Disorienting darkness around him. Below him. Everywhere but above, where a pair of blank white eyes stare back at him.
The old man's mouth is open, a black pit in the water that draws no breath and makes no sound. Black, inhuman rage is written across his face. Spidery hands find their way around Edge's throat, forcing his head deeper under. There's a horrible strength to the old man's grip, far beyond what such a withered body should be capable of.
There's no sign of the boy in the water. The old man doesn't so much as glance at Kira, now that he's found another target. It seems that the burbat is reprieved. Forgotten, for the moment. The tunnel mouth is waiting, should she choose to take it. The rope still hangs from the ceiling, swaying gently, as though it's been recently used.
Sara, Draggo, and Sarkany: Sara's items: human effigy, Draggo's items: broken flint necklace, damaged spear, sturdy rope, scholar's note 2, scholar's note 2, hideous cake (4), runed heart Sarkany's items: simple knife, human effigy, seeing stone
When Sara's fingers close around the sword, the ragged pulse in her head subsides to a dull backdrop. The weight feels natural in her hand. Almost friendly. The motion of the slash feels familiar to her, and she has an instinctive sense of where and how best to strike. The edge falls cleanly, lopping the head of the entity from its shoulders.
The grey mass goes rolling and splattering over the tiles, trailing flakes of crust. It rolls to the feet of the dogs, which are still watching the black arm as it claws apart the head and shoulders of its shell.
The entity doesn't fall. It pauses. Turns. Despite its headless state, its movements are precise. It rises from its crouch and starts toward Sara. This is no mindless, sluggish pursuit. Its holds its damaged arm before it in a defensive gesture, angling forward as it breaks into a charge.
Looking through the seeing stone, Sarkany can see what it was the creature was crouching over. There's a man lying in the once-empty space, sprawled and unmoving on his back. His body is a mess of old scars and blackened flesh. His one remaining eye is glazed, only the faint movement of his chest and a dull twitch of his fingers indicating he's alive. Sarkany watches Sara's charge. Watches the grey turn. He utters a small, short breath and sets his shoulder to the lefthand door. Checks through the open sliver.
"She'll be along, pup." What he sees on the other side seems to satisfy him. Sarkany presses the figurine into the dragon's hand, ushering him onto the gallery room and its statue columns. "I'll see her through. Do what you can about the far doors. We n-need to be ready to -t -" He pauses, eyes blackening.
The dragon feels it too: the terrible pulse in the air, like a heartbeat overlaying their own. As if in response, the pain in his burns redoubles, his vision blackening with the initial shock. He can feel the burn resuming in his flesh, slowed only by the figurine in his hand.
Sarkany is still standing. But he's curled in on himself, fingers white around the door, holding it for support as much as to hold it open. A fresh line of blood has broken down the corner of his mouth, and when he raises his eyes, the scleras fluctuate from white to grey and back again, unable to stabilize.
Cassius and Hau: Cassius' items: w̷̘͉͕̐̑h̷̯̺̾i̷̞̺̰͌t̶̛̯̲̂̕e̶̡̝̅ ̴͈̽͛̈́p̵̖̔e̷̟̭̾l̴̡̦̈̿t̸̰̙̾̕ Hau's items: m̴̖̈́a̵̧͍̒n̷̩͌̋ë̸̛̜̭͖̈́̀́ḑ̸̜͙̱̓̽͊̈́ ̷͈͈̿͂̆ͅp̶̛̘e̷͖̽̔̀͝l̶͆́͝t̶̑̑͌͝ͅ
(Cassius: 11; Hau: 14)
The glimpse of hallway closes off as ice crackles over the door frame. The stone slab, already a heavy obstacle, is frozen in place when the white beast reaches it. It refuses to budge, and his last escape lies past the righthand door and the black beast that guards it.
But from the moment the ice touches stone, the spread of the residue in the room begins to accelerate. The mass in the left corner has grown to monstrous proportions, and the entity forming in the righthand door has bloomed from a doughy lump into a full-formed humanoid in moments. The ice Hau placed over the center door is already greying, bristling with crust. A third grey mass is swelling there, reaching out. It latches onto the white beast's left forelimb, pinning it down, and the beast can feel a steady burn creeping through the fur.
All three doors are now guarded. The crusted faces are turning toward the room's two occupants, oozing forward. The lefthand mass, the largest, is closing in the white beast and the budding entity holding him. The righthand entity is closer to Hau, and it seems to sense it. It steps from the doorway, blind and swaying, and begins to move toward him on sluggish steps.
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Post by kilnarak on Nov 11, 2019 3:29:35 GMT -6
[ Ari realizes whoever is climbing up the rope is not Edge, and retreats across the room with a book. If whoever it is comes at him he's gonna chuck the book at them. ]
Ari found himself a little comforted that there was an answer to his shout in the tug on the rope. He gripped the rope and the stone lip of the well, steadying it as Edge climbed up from below. He tried to keep the rope from swaying too much, although as the other slowly ascended he found that the weight on the rope seemed... lighter? than it should have been.
"H-Hey? C-Can-Can you hear me?" He leaned over to peer down again, but the light was too much for him to see far. Eventually a vague silhouette began to appear, as if moving through a white mist. It was far too small to be Edge, skeletal. It made him think of the mummies that had been jammed into those tiny alcoves in the hallway. He felt his hackles rising at the sight of it, and he withdrew abruptly from the well, backing away toward the far wall.
He wondered if he should have slipped the rope free, let it drop - but Edge was still down there and might still need it. He looked around, then scrambled to snatch one of the books before retreating again. It wasn't much of a weapon, but maybe it would provide enough distraction for him if he needed to bolt.
As whoever it was began to climb up over the well, he flinched and squinted his eyes against the blinding brilliance of the disk, holding the rotten book as if ready to throw it. "W-Who are you? S-Stay back."
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Post by NightshadeVII on Nov 11, 2019 14:31:32 GMT -6
[OOC: Edge is fucked. Fights back out of sheer panic and attempts to slit the old man’s throat with the chipped knife (rolls 10 for this). Then proceeds to follow up with the other knife, using this to stab at the man’s face (rolls 2 for this, like an idiot). If neither work, he will attempt to wallop the old man away with his wing (rolls 3 for this, because now he’s just being dumb).]
There was a moment of chaos, and then... darkness. A suffocating weight above him, holding him down, water all around, muffling every sound, pressing against his ears, into his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment. Just for a second he got ready to push himself away from the old man and get out of the water. Then he felt hands around his throat, thin and sickly, but unrelenting, strong. Pressing down on his airpipe, holding him down, under the water, keeping him in the darkness, denying him the air above him. Panic began to spread through his body, lighting blood on fire, sending electricity through his muscles, making his thoughts run so much faster. Every thought revolved around the hands around his throat, the choking him, suffocating, drowning him. Keeping him down. There was a face above him. White eyes, a black mouth open unnaturally wide, yet somehow, still recognizable as the old man from before. But it had never been an old man. This was a monster.
This was how he would die, wasn’t it? He had survived something he shouldn’t years ago, and now, the world was catching up, to restore balance, right the wrongs and take his life, like it had tried to so many years ago. Still it was... quite the contrast to the first time. The opposite element even. He was suffocating instead of bleeding out this time too. It was almost ironic. For a moment he almost accepted it, this death, almost put his head back and closed his eyes, stopping the struggle. He had lost all he cared about in this place anyway. And he had never belonged in this world. He was an outsider, broken, a little mistake. He was supposed to have died years ago, so he was in no place to object now.
No. No that wasn’t how it was going to end. He had survived this before, and he’d do so again. There were people who counted on him. Faolan and Ari. He couldn’t just give up on them. And he couldn’t give up on himself, this was his life to lead, his life to fight for. And he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die all those years ago, and he still didn’t want to die. There was so much good in his life. Family, friends, people that cared about him and he cared about in return. This couldn’t be the end. Even if this was just a nightmare, like Ari had said, even if he was just going to wake up after this, he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. Like hell he would. He refused to just accept this, he had done that too many times before. This monster wasn’t going to be the death of him. He had survived worse than this.
Quickly, he grabbed the first knife in his belt that he could get his hand on, the chipped one, and brought it up in a fierce swipe aimed at the old man’s throat, aiming to slit it. Without even thinking he followed it up with the intact knife, aiming to stab at the other’s face. There was a desperation to these movements, fast and almost animalistic, driven by a will to survive.
If none of this worked, a wing would sprout from Edge’s back. Black feathered, iridescent, massive. With this he would try to whack the old man away.
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Post by tsukikoko on Nov 11, 2019 17:55:07 GMT -6
[OOC: Sara moves back and sideways to avoid the creature's charge, before slashing down it's back from shoulder to opposite hip. She continues to move back, staying light on her feet, trying to move it away from the fallen man and the door her companions had moved towards.]
The sword felt wonderful in her hand, flowing almost of it's own accord through her foe's neck. She felt lighter, more free of a headache she hadn't realised had become so bad, until it abruptly faded. But, while the blade gave her a sense almost of friendship, it could not dull the fear. Because, despite her drive to save the scarred man and her fierce, steadfast rebellion against the events of this Halloween nightmare, the shifter was afraid.
She was afraid when the headless, grey creature turned to face her.
She was afraid when it charged for her.
But the fear didn't matter, she surged past it regardless. Because the monster's victim was free now.
When the creature charged for her, Sara did not attempt to stand her ground, or slash at it as it came forward. Instead, as light on her feet as she could be, the shifter darted backwards and to the side, aiming to dodge out of the way of the creature's initial rush and move around behind it. Only when she had a shot at it's back did she strike. Letting the blade guide her, she swung down, cleaving a line from the grey's shoulder to it's opposite hip. She thought back on her sessions with Aaron, where he'd tried to teach her to fight. She might have been flirtatious and played around more often than not, but some of the lessons had sunk in. Such as the need to keep moving, to not be overwhelmed.
If her attack was either unsuccessful, or didn't stop the creature, Sara moved backwards, leading her opponent away from where she had last seen the man to lay and from her companions. It couldn't chase them, not in their condition.
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Post by jarahamee on Nov 11, 2019 18:10:20 GMT -6
[Cassius would attempt to free his paw and retreat through the righthand door. 18. He has abandoned trying to move the center one]
The white beast felt its foot fasten to the door. Worse, a grey being appeared before it and took hold of its leg, searing the flesh there. The pain was sharp, and its withdraw response was immediate, and yet, the foot was stuck. The white beast whuffed with distaste and annoyance and gave the leg a mighty tug. It would come free and then they would escape out the last door. The one that the black beast stood before.
Its bright, hungry eyes narrowed as it measured up the other creature. It did not have to finish the other by attacking it. It would be killed if it remained here with the gray creatures. Perhaps this was the best course now. Then it could find the others, fulfill the will. End this cycle of torment.
The creature gave its limb a mighty pull and then dashed towards the black beast, feinting towards it. Its body was strong, quick, it could easily move past these things. It could out-run the black beast. The creature's sharp toothed jaws slavered as it snapped at the air, attempting to lure the creature away from its door. If it only moved a little bit...
If the black beast wished to summon all these monsters, it could die in here with them.
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Post by Pearl Dragon on Nov 11, 2019 18:51:11 GMT -6
[Kira thinks old-man has the boy still and climbs onto his back to do more stabby-stabs at his back and hips with an arm bur and both leg burs]
Kira felt her bur connect, sink effortlessly into the man's leg and knee. She pulled her arm back again as he dropped and immediately skirted around him to make a grab for the boy. But, she was shocked to see he had vanished. Kira swept an arm out at the water to check, make sure he wasn't still submerged but there was nothing but the murky liquid and no small body below to grab. She turned towards the old man and gasped at the airless darkness as she saw him still working in a struggle with something below the surface. She surmised that somehow, he still had the boy and was now under the water with him. Kira clambered towards them, grasping and pulling at the man's back in a climbing motion and jabbed her arm forward again once she was about mid torso. Her aim was for center mass, his spine, or anywhere that would cause enough damage for him to stop. Her leg spurs also stabbed into his hips and sides as she climbed, more damage to distract him or possible disable him from his attack. Her heart was a stampede in her chest the entire time, and her body fought to pull away and flee rather than attack.
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Post by Vaitris on Nov 11, 2019 21:23:41 GMT -6
[OOC: Hau will freeze the white beast itself and trap it where it stands. If it manages to free itself instead, he’ll try to prevent it leaving the room by icing whatever floor is left between it and the right-hand door and/or fighting it off.]
Hau was disgusted to see his beautiful crystalline ice distorted by the gray blooming from the surface of it like mold. And he didn’t miss the way the other bulbous masses in the room were reacting to the use of his abilities. Growing, bloating, forming into new threats. A humanoid figure, closest to him and the door, was staggering in his direction. But it was slow, and it was a peripheral concern. The white beast came first. Always first. If it escaped the room, it’d hunt down Sara and the others and it would kill them. He wouldn’t let that happen.
For the moment it was trapped, caught by the gray ooze seeping out of the barrier he placed on the middle door. And it was still enough now that Hau could grab it, enfold it in his ice. Once it was frozen, he’d let the grays finish it off.
But the way the wolf was struggling, pulling like a feral animal with its leg caught in a hunter’s snare, Hau was afraid it would wrench itself free too quickly. So he braced himself in front of the right-hand door. He wouldn’t give it up. He’d ice over the right-hand door too just to keep it in here if he had to. But that was a last resort. If it freed itself he’d turn the floor between them into a skating rink. Speed and agility would only count for so much in such a condition. And to leave through this door it’d have to go through him. His tusks were red with its blood, it had already felt the force of them two times. He was ready to make this the third.
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Post by MP on Nov 12, 2019 11:10:11 GMT -6
ALL: The vast awareness pulses slowly, languidly in your mind, a strangling presence. It's glutted on power. Magic. Ready to wake. All that's left is to sweep up the small food here. Suck down the last dregs of magic and foreign strength. Then onto the rest. And on.
Ari: Items: emergency book
The light grows stronger as Ari retreats. A glow. And then a sun. And then a total white that blots out the room. Through his blindness, he can hear the dry rasp of skin over stone. The sound of something clambering over the lip of the well. And then, without warning, the light fades.
He's standing in a dark room. Staring at a dark well. The rope still hangs from one of the rocky tiles, motionless now. But the light has gone entirely. The room is now identical to the well room he remembers from before he placed the figurine. And there's no sign of the climber. No sign of Edge emerging from below.
The door to the flooded room is silent. But there's a draft at Ari's back. The door to the collapsed passage is hanging ajar. And though it may be the lingering spots behind his eyes, one could swear that there's a faint and fading glint down the righthand branch.
Edge and Kira: Edge's items: broken knife, chipped knife, silver chain Kira's items: carved fragment, ornate key
A thin line of smoke hisses from the old man's neck, blackening the water where the knife has slashed him. Edge feels the grip around his neck slacken. Feels it tighten in a spasmodic grip. The flesh of the old man's face sags like an old balloon, the mouth warping in unnatural shapes. The long fingers are faltering. But smoke clings to the knives, and the blades feel too light in Edge's hand. Brittle.
When he tries to stab again, the end of the good knife chips. It's eaten away as if with rust. The point scrapes past his cheek on the way to the murky bottom. In his other hand, the chipped knife has burned away altogether, leaving him with a useless hilt. It seems that the blood - the residue - eats away at his weapons. The old man isn't quite done yet. And Edge's vision is going dark.
Kira's burs hold up against the smoke, but they seem to be doing little good. The old man may appear human, but his body doesn't react the way it should to injuries. Her bur sinks into his spine, past his ribs, lodges into the meat of his shoulder, to no effect. With a sickening crackle, the skeletal face turns on its twisted neck. Farther. Farther. Cracked unnaturally over the shoulder, fixing the burbat with a white-eyed stare.
The old man lifts one hand from the water and seizes Kira around the neck. The flesh of his fingers runs like mud, but his grip is like steel. He drags the burbat from his back with a painful twist of her scruff. Never loosing his hold from the thing beneath the water, he flings her into the side of the stone idol.
The yawning carving is larger than Kira remembers. The mouth wider. Even lying against its side, she can feel the beginnings of its pull. The old man stares at her as she lies there. Despite his sagging features, and despite his blank white eyes, there's an unmistakable malice there as he presses his victim deeper under. The burbat has the distinct feeling that she'll be next.
Sara: Items: human effigy, general's sword
Sara's next strike lops off the damaged arm entirely. The limb falls in a puff of dust, muscles sagging, then puddling into sludge. In moments, there's nothing but a lifeless patch of residue where it lay. The creature's skin is beginning to sag, losing some of its definition. But it refuses to fall.
Its remaining arm swipes past her head in a dangerous rush of air. Sara can hear the weight behind it. One well-placed blow could shatter a leg or crush her skull. It seems to know where she is, even headless. Even maimed as it is. And now it moves with a deliberate stride - not toward her, but back. It retreats to the gallery door and stands there. Waiting.
A deep bay rings from the back wall. Behind Sara, the mummy is stepping free from the remains of its shell. It stares at her through sunken lids. Raises its hand in a sweeping gesture. It might not have a horn to sound, but at its command, the hounds surge forward. One charges straight for Sara, leaping at her sword arm in an attempt to latch onto flesh. The second circles behind her, following a gesture from the mummy's arm. Behind it, the grey entity watches, patient, standing at the door to the gallery.
Cassius and Hau: Cassius' items: w̷̘͉͕̐̑h̷̯̺̾i̷̞̺̰͌t̶̛̯̲̂̕e̶̡̝̅ ̴͈̽͛̈́p̵̖̔e̷̟̭̾l̴̡̦̈̿t̸̰̙̾̕ Hau's items: m̴̖̈́a̵̧͍̒n̷̩͌̋ë̸̛̜̭͖̈́̀́ḑ̸̜͙̱̓̽͊̈́ ̷͈͈̿͂̆ͅp̵̖̔e̷̟̭̾l̴̡̦̈̿t̸̰̙̾̕
The white beast's struggles have wrenched it free of the residue, free of the forming crystals, giving it a straight path to the righthand door. Its powerful leaps propel it forward at an alarming rate, and the slick of ice forms between them in the nick of time.
But as it turns out, Hau barely needs his ice to stop it. Grey crust sprouts along with the crystals, taking root in his enemy's fur. White fur greys and then blackens as the flakes begin to eat through to skin. The pads of the beast's feet begin to wither. The rot blunts its claws.
But the same ice that slows the white beast threatens the black beast too. The existing entities swell the more the ice is used, bloating to monstrous proportions. The largest entity has consumed the entirety of the lefthand wall, wrapping from the corner all the way to the hole. The smaller entities may soon rival it in size. They're three times the width of a man and growing larger, backing the beasts into a narrowing corner of the room. A new entity is blooming from the frost on the black beast's fur, enveloping it even as it takes shape. And when Hau tries to move, his front paws jerk to a stop, caught in a grey crust forming over his ice slick - another emerging entity. In that momentary hitch, the swollen mass pursuing Hau simply collapses forward, its torso driving him down.
There are now five entities in all. The two newest are swelling from the icy patches, clinging onto the beasts and swelling at an alarming rate. The beasts feel the rot searing into their back and sides and feet. Residue is forming all around the room, crusting the floors, the ceiling, the walls. Something vast is taking shape beneath it. If the two can't free themselves and escape the room, death is imminent. All that remains to them is the righthand door and the hole in the wall, both already beginning to crust over.
Draggo and Sarkany: Draggo’s items: broken flint necklace, damaged spear, sturdy rope, scholar's note 1, scholar's note 2, hideous cake, runed heart Dropped items: simple knife, human effigy, seeing stone
For a moment, the black strain in the air seems to level out. Just for a moment. They can feel it watching. Feeding. Then at some sudden trigger, it spikes to new levels, burrowing deep into the flesh.
Sarkany tries to move them. He releases the door and begins to push along the wall, blindly, reaching for the dragon’s arm. But his movements are slow and halting, disrupted by the tremors in his limbs. He makes it three steps toward the sun door. His side leaves smears along the wall - thick tar and fresh, blackening blood. Another step. Then his legs fold, and the seraph crumples.
The meat of the dragon’s lower back is pitted as a rotting log. He feels the first spike of agony as the corruption reaches one hip bone, spreading even through the figurine’s protection. There are no reassurances for him. No instructions. Not even acknowledgement.
The seraph stirs where he’s fallen. Utters a low, animal sound. Curls his fingers as if to rise. He never does. Sarkany lies still save for the rapid flutter of his chest and the tremors, weak and fading.
The dragon is, for all intents and purposes, alone. His own injuries cover less vital areas, but it won’t be long before the rot spreads. If he’s to find a way to save himself, he has minutes to act at most.
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Post by kilnarak on Nov 12, 2019 11:40:32 GMT -6
[ Ari goes down the right-hand path, following the light. ]
Ari flinched back further, his bruised back pressing to the cold stone of the walls. He squeezed his eyes near shut against the light, pupils narrowing to mere pinpricks. His grip on the book tightened - his vision was useless, but he could hear movement. He tried to place where it was, where it was going.
He heard whatever it was draw over the lip of the well and then suddenly darkness crashed down around him. It left him near as blind as the light had, at least until his eyes adjusted. He was left blinking at a dark, empty well, yawning distressingly before him. A familiar mural of the maw along the wall. It was disorienting, after the bright washed-out smoothness that the room had held in the light.
A gust of air made him turn so quickly he near lost his balance, hefting the book again to threaten a throw. But there was nothing there save a door hanging ajar, a faint glimmer of light far far down the collapsed hallway.
He could stay and wait for Edge, but as far as he knew that gaping maw of a well had swallowed the man whole. Still he hesitated until the glimmer of light had nearly winked out before he moved to the doorway, through it into the collapsed tunnel. He dropped the book and began to crawl down the right-hand branch, following the fading light.
He felt almost numb as he climbed over the broken stone, squeezing his way along. Where the rock pressed sharply, where it bruised... it wasn't that he didn't feel it, but it felt it didn't matter. He had felt too much, too much fear, too much pain; maybe it was a sort of shock setting in after these few moments of cessation. There was nowhere else he could think to go - nothing pulled him toward the water room and in his mind he was certain that if he went down the well, the rope would snap and he would fall - and following the light seemed as good a plan as any.
It would likely all lead to the same place in the end, anyway.
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Post by NightshadeVII on Nov 12, 2019 17:04:51 GMT -6
[OOC: Edge tries to severely injure or cut off the old man’s arm with the knife he has left (rolls 2 for this). With his free hand, he tries to pry the old man’s hand off, digging his nails into the tissue and tearing at it if he can. Once again tries to wing wallop the man away. As a last desperate attempt, he proceeds to smack the man with his tail in an attempt to knock him away (rolls 19 for struggle)]
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Post by Sharei on Nov 12, 2019 19:08:21 GMT -6
[OOC: Draggo grieves for Sarkany and contemplates simply laying down next to him to die, any intention of escape dying with his father. But the sound of Sara's fighting brings him back to focus. Moving through the agony he - with effort - goes back for her, making an attack on the dog that's behind her with the spear. His aim is to impale it through the back. ]
"Kanagi?"
But the dragon knew what was happening even before Sarkany fell. When he moved to support the icarim, to help ease him to the floor with frightened murmurs, he knew it. He could smell that sickly sweet odor in the other's scent, and could see it in his injuries. His own burned with the force of a thousand suns, but the pain was a secondary thing. Kanagi was in danger and dying and he had to--
And then, with a soft sigh Kanagi was gone.The dragon stared at his prone form. The blackness inside yawned open. Sadness and grief spilled out.
"Please," the dragon whimpered. He nudged the fallen Icarim with a hand, heartsick and broken, but Sarkany did not rise again. "Please," he said again, as though wishing could somehow bring his father back to him. But Kanagi did not answer him. There were no condolences and reassurances, only silence. The dragon sobbed and leaned down over Sarkany's body, pressing against it with his own trembling form. If Kanagi was gone there was no hope for him, and even if there was, he couldn't bare the thought of chasing it. It was too much, suddenly - the burden too heavy.
Sara's scuffle reached his ears then. She was still alive and fighting, still struggling. The dragon closed his eyes, considered leaving her to her fate, and then forced himself up. It was a great effort to leave Sarkany where he lay, but the juvenile forced himself to go back for her. Forced himself to attack the dog nearest him as he came into the room, pushing past the grey creature in the doorway to do it. But the fight had gone out of him.
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Post by tsukikoko on Nov 12, 2019 19:22:44 GMT -6
[OOC: Sara curses and strikes at the leaping dog with the sword, while backing up towards the nearest wall, trying not to get encircled by the hunting dogs. With the effigy powers, she creates a very sudden, sharp spike from the wall behind the mummy, hoping to impale and destroy it. Defence roll: 13 Wall spike: 20]
Again her blow struck true, slicing through the creature's limb and severing it. Though clearly damaged, it remained on it's feet and Sara found herself growing angrier at the sight of it; her burns seared, an ever-present pain, she wanted to go to her companions but could only spare a momentary glance in the direction they'd gone, she had no idea the wellbeing of the scarred man she had seen, there was a pressing, growing weight of hunger getting more prominent by the second... and the damn creature just. wouldn't. die!
She readied her sword again, but it didn't come for her. Could it be... fleeing? No. It stood at the threshold, maintaining position.
A noise at her back.
The shifter turned, locked eyes with the sunken-faced mummy now fully emerged. Even as it's hand began to raise she knew what was coming and opened her mouth to finally voice the bubbling fury within her. "Come on then ya fuckin' cunts! If ya think ya 'ard," the first dog was already upon her, but even as she stepped back and swung the sword down in an attempt to strike it from the air, the shifter still hollered, "-let's 'ave ya!"
Recognising the circling, pack behaviour for what it was and knowing that her very exposed back was an easy target, that she couldn't look in two directions at once, Sara sought to place her back to the nearest wall. She retreated, even as the effigy's powers rose up again inside her.
A sharp look at the mummy, the one who commanded her undead, canine attackers. She felt for the wall behind him, tracking a path to it through the stones of the floor she stood upon. Then, she realised, the youngling had returned. Looking as though he could barely stand, yet trying to help her, rotting in front of her eyes.
Without Sarkany.
Red clouded the edges of her vision, pulsing dangerously. An image appeared in her head, detailing exactly what she wanted - a spike of stone. Large, phenomenally sharp, enough to pierce through spine, chest, emerge out the other side while wide enough to rupture as much of the body as she could. She wanted to destroy it, driven by fear, anger and a desperation centred around the friends she had separated from and the one now here with her, whom she needed to defend.
Her mental hold gripped the wall tight, surged forward and burst outwards towards her target in an explosion of violence.
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