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Post by jarahamee on Oct 26, 2022 2:13:00 GMT -6
The reddish moonlight streams in through the stained glass windows, providing dim light beyond their simple candles and firebrands. As those assembled examined the altar and idols, and discuss what to do next, a crow flies into the open doorway, perching on top of the wooden frame; It loudly croaks; “The score is four and four. Whether Beast or Overseer of Men, it makes no difference to us."With the crow’s proclamation, there is a flicker in both the firebrands and candles, and then, suddenly, every candle in the great cathedral lights itself, creating a sudden cascade of illumination. The resulting color, and view, is even more spectacular than one might have gathered from their initial introduction. Rich pigments, likely natural in origin, look even more vibrant. The painting on the ceiling now has a sort of life to it, and the light reflects off the nude body of the great goddess like a golden moon. Her serene eyes seem even more watchful somehow. And in that moment, they hear an unfamiliar voice;
“You must be here to resurrect the goddess.”
The voice is a deep, rasping rumble, coming from the direction of the door. Nothing had moved in the still Cathedral. August, however, could see a concerning change overtake the hunched figure of the crowned corpse. While its mouth had not moved, its face, which had previously had only dark, eyeless holes, now had a semblance of light from somewhere deep behind the eye sockets.
“I cannot allow you to complete your task.”
The seated corpse trembled, bones rattling, sinew snapping and crackling as it suddenly stood straight up, not as a man would, but rather as a puppet might, pulled by invisible strings. Indeed, the figure was tall. Much taller than their companion mummy. Its short, wispy hair framed its gaunt, sunken cheeks and eye sockets, and its withered nose had an upturned look to it. It reached up to adjust its own head with long, skeletal fingers.
“Whether it was The Nameless One or Caermacha, it was always the same. Both hunger for blood, for control, and neither ever sated. Leopold, the betrayer, you knew this well when you helped bury her here. Betrayer, have you come to betray me too at last?”
the King turned its skeletal head, holding its sword in a ‘guard’ position, looking directly at the mummy. The mummy, for its part, looked at the rest of those assembled, and then stared back with its faceplate, as serene as ever, silver mask features unchanging. Its body language, however, shifted, shoulders squaring, stance widening. It flourished the torch, and then reached for the Holy Balm that August carried, without breaking eye contact with the King. It was holding his attention, but who knew how long that would last, or even, if it should last.
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 26, 2022 3:16:09 GMT -6
[OOC: What does the fox say? John runs secondary distraction.]
As John watched and listened to the proceedings (he knew that large undead was going to rise!), the fox didn't much fancy Leopold's chances. Nevermind how powerful he might have been in life, he was clearly not that strong now and the crowned one was far larger anyhow. He pondered, too, on what the crowned fellow was saying; resurrecting a goddess? Well, he didn't know about the rest of the group, but the Kumiho certainly had not had any intention of such a thing.
But then, if they didn't complete the task of this magic-infested, undead-riddled place, stripped of powers as they all seemed to be, would they ever escape?
John could probably do a decent job of distraction and explanation, at least. Though it was going to be an irritation letting them all know he could, in fact, speak. But the crowned one was going to kill them, by the look of the sword, if they all escaped John would kill them so... at this stage, what did it matter? If the rest of the group decided to use the items, none of which the fox held so he couldn't be held accountable, that was their choice.
With a flourish of his tail and the light pad of paws, John made his way round the side of the great throne and positioned himself thus that, should the crowned undead turn to respond, it would not have direct sight upon anything the group decided to do with the statues. He sat, his paws neatly in front of himself, a rather regal pose despite his small, animal stature.
"Excuse me, good sir," the fox did not move his jaws when he spoke. Instead, the eloquent, well enunciated words seemed to simply form sound in the air around him. "I am afraid there may have been a terrible misunderstanding. We had no knowledge our actions were cause to resurrect anything, nevermind a Goddess. We were simply plucked from our beds and awoke in this strange land. The tasks we have completed were in defence of our own lives, or others; the Manticore we defeated had been assailing a town nearby, the beasts climbing castle walls, having already consumed the denizens within. Stripped of most powers we may have had, completing the tasks seemingly laid out before us seemed the only chance of returning home. Unless there is another way?" The Kumiho tipped his head after his last questioning statement, trying not to focus his gaze upon the sword wielded by the large undead, but still keeping it in his peripherals. He really didn't fancy being cleaved in twain tonight.
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Post by indeath on Oct 26, 2022 4:50:25 GMT -6
((OOC: August thinks they should trust Leo. He gives Leo the balm and follows him to the station. Suggesting indirectly to do it all quickly.))
August grew more and more nervous, if he could sweat he would be dripping in it. It seemed like the odds were against them, everything in this place was deadly. He was definitely not a fan of resurrecting a potentially dangerous goddess but he trusted Leo. Maybe the guy had had time to rethink his actions. Besides the king had let the village die. Who knew if he was telling the truth. He handed the balm to Leo with a slight nod.
“I trust ya Leo…”
He spoke as quietly as he could and moved over to the station with the mummy. August tried not to react when the fox started talking. He felt betrayed, why hadn’t it spoken before? Were they not good enough. He is a Hau! Liar, liar fox on fire!
He got eye contact with the others kinda nodding towards the stations. Hoping they were thinking what he was thinking.
“Quick sticks! If we do the thing ya know…”
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Post by beastly on Oct 26, 2022 8:24:15 GMT -6
((Vincent is dazzled by pretty lights. Hearing the corpse speak, Vincent has some very hunter thoughts and doubles down on resurrecting the goddess, if only to spite the beast. He prepares to put the tooth in, but is also watching to see if he needs to step in with the bow.)) ((Items: Bow, arrows (2x), knife, candle, tooth))
Beast or overseer of men? Vincent puzzled over the statement for the smallest moment before the lighting changed, the chamber only becoming even more beautiful as the candles and sources of fire around the room lit. God, it was gorgeous, and made him feel even more reverent.
Then, the undead on the throne spoke. The scruffy man stood from his knees, quickly approaching the statue with the beast. He had the tooth, this is what it was for. This was why they were here. What Vincent understood from the crow's words, from the undead's, was that there was a goddess and a beast. He remembered the doors, the doors with the woman and the monster, and he had chosen the woman, the goddess. The beast unnerved him so, and after fighting off the werebeasts and the manticore, the thought of not completing their task and letting that wretched beast reign, it made something in the Hunter more resolute. Maybe the goddess was a tyrant over men, if the thing on the throne was to be believed, but he had seen no men. The only people here had been killed by monsters. This world was seemingly empty, empty save for terrible, hateful, evil creatures. He set the candle down by the statue.
Then, the fox spoke. Vincent was startled slightly, surprised. He had, of course, known that the fox was no natural animal, not with how smart he was or how he had lit a candle or held a knife, but the speech was unexpected. Vincent knew of talking foxes, good and evil, but didn't they usually have more tails? This one only had one. Regardless, it didn't matter. They had work to do.
Vincent prepared to put the tooth in the statue, muscles tensed, his other hand gripping the bow. His action needed to happen after blood was spilled, and if he needed to subdue the huge undead before then, he would try, at least.
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 26, 2022 10:36:56 GMT -6
The King turned, his head moving sharply long before his body followed suit, along with the direction of his sword. The dead face remained expressionless, trapped in an eternal grimace as it addressed the Kumiho, lurching forward at a faster pace than one might have guessed from its derelict appearance.
Its rotted robes dragged on the floor, ripping further as they created a sort of train behind it as it moved. The skeletal fingers clutched the sword with what must have been far greater strength than their own mummy’s.
“It’s better that way. All of us, dead.”
There was a certainty to what was said, but at least it seemed distracted away from what the others were doing, at least, for now.
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 26, 2022 11:05:49 GMT -6
[OOC: John politely disagrees and gets ready to run like a dog who's stolen a piece of chicken.]
"If it's all the same to you, sir, I'd really rather not."
He backed up towards the wall behind him as John spoke. Sharp, animal eyes passed a quick glance over the crowned undead, a stray thought passing across the fox's mind - that perhaps he could sever whatever sinew and flesh kept the king's lower leg attached at the knee. Perhaps it would work, but that would place him at a rather unsettling close quarters to the sword.
Instead, he intended to dart away, following the wall, towards the door they'd entered from. The statues might be better cover, but if the rest of the group completed their tasks, perhaps this creature would drop dead, collapse into nothingness as those in the town had done, or the way the castle collapsed. This thing moved quicker than he expected, but the fox knew he was light on his feet and a low target to hit.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 26, 2022 17:32:19 GMT -6
((OOC: Una puts the heart in the imperious woman's chest))
When the canid spoke, Una clicked her tongue in surprise. All this time, and he had a voice? The little creature must be shy.
Slowly, trying to remain innocuous, she approached the imperious female figure. The chest was empty. Ah. A human's heart typically resided within the chest, tucked behind the ribcage. There, it was protected. Humans often associated the heart's rhythm with passionate emotions. Fear, sorrow. Love.
As the king spoke, Una wondered: Why must anyone die? Why must there be conflict at all? Why couldn't they all be sun-eaters and chemosynthesizers, who flourished without consuming other life? The world was so unfair. And yet ...
Once again, she thought of Fedlimid's candles. Mortality was a given, yes, but every candle should be allowed to burn its fullest.
When the dead king suggested that everyone was better off dead, Una gasped. How dare he? He subscribed to the nihilistic philosophy of her enemy, the mer who'd almost killed her before she came to land. The mer who'd rather drown the world than fight for a better life. It was a selfish, cruel solution.
Clearly, the king had failed his people, ignored their suffering, and was now trying to justify his failure as a necessary evil.
For Fedlimid and the other villagers, Una placed the heart in the imperious effigy. Her own heart felt heavy with sadness.
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 26, 2022 17:58:31 GMT -6
[ Once Una has Done The Thing, he cuts his palm and pours a bit of blood onto the statue's hand, then slots in the dagger. ]
Ash flinched sharply when all the lights in the room suddenly flared to life. He glanced back toward the throne on hearing the voice and flinched again to see the corpse moving. No. He didn't like that at all.
He looked back to the statues, his scales trembling, clicking lightly against one another. Once all the objects were in place then... then this would be over, wouldn't it? The crowned man would be dead again, everything would be fine. But there was an order to these things and he needed to wait. He glanced toward Una, watching her until she placed the heart in the heartless statue. He hesitated a brief moment, then sliced his palm with the dagger and squeezed a bit of the blood into his own statue's palm before slotting in the knife.
There. He had done it. Next was... the dragon's tooth? He looked to Vince, cradling his bloodied palm to his chest.
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Post by beastly on Oct 26, 2022 20:10:13 GMT -6
((Vincent shoves the tooth in the beast's mouth, moves over by John, and shoots an arrow at the chest/gem of the corpse king(89).)) ((Items: knife, arrow, bow))
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 26, 2022 22:18:08 GMT -6
The crow shifts to another statue as the party scatters, observing the matters of those around him. The fire highlights the gross on its fine feathers. It preens and then caws; “The King tries to stop the pilgrim’s progression to his final pyre. If both goddesses’ rise, perhaps their sacrifice shall be one another.”Una places the flaming heart within the chest of the armored woman. As she does so, the heart flutters and beats, flooding the still wooden statue with color, and apparent life. The chest moves, the eyes seem to shine, and the merfolk could swear that she felt the soft puff of breath as she withdrew her hand. The figure turns the sword to the center, and lowers both her head and hands as she prays. Ash places the dagger, and an offering of blood, within the furrow in the hand held outward by the tall, armored man’s statue. As soon as the dagger is placed within the figure’s hand, color, oddly life-like on this wooden figure, spreads from the place of spilled blood to the rest of its body. Its hand tightens on the dagger, and more blood flow over the hand and drops onto the floor. The man turns towards the golden figure of the goddess, bowing his head and offering his hand upward to her. Vincent places the fang into the mouth of the dragon-like creature being held in a headlock by the beautiful being. As soon as he does so, the dragon’s face contorts in a grotesque snarl, then writhes about in the angelic being’s arms. The being itself turned towards the goddess coiling its arms tighter, both hands coming together as it knelt and bowed its head, crushing the dragon as it did so. There is a hum in the room, like electricity crackling, like the entire room held its breath in anticipation. The light from the candles intensifies, becoming an open flame. August escorts the mummy to the empty podium (E). The mummy accepts the holy balm. It opens the container, and then dips its fingers within, before rubbing it on its arms. It pauses, hesitating, and then shuffles itself onto the space with the missing effigy. It stares at the King, tracking his progress as he moves across the room while it slathers itself unceremoniously, moving on to its torso. John, meanwhile, addresses the King, dashing away as he approaches, moving against the wall, away from the others who were busy performing the ritual. The King appears undeterred, moving only as quickly as he needs to, then striking in dashes. The tall being changes directions, slashing at John, but the blow narrowly misses, the steel striking the stone ground, creating sparks.
"Cowards choose to live as sheep, rather than die as men!"
It moves to continue, closing in on the fox, and then the arrow strikes him, piercing his chest. The arrow sinks deep, moving almost completely through his body. While the shot does not appear to hurt, it does seem to attract his attention away from John. The King turns, body following his head turn, before running towards Vincent at full speed. He strikes, lashing out with his sword in a backhand arc, and cuts Vincent’s forearm deeply.
Vincent receives A Strike.Vincent is now Gravely Wounded.
A bell, from a tower far above, tolls once, softly at first.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 26, 2022 23:26:21 GMT -6
((OOC: Una bites the King))
Seeing Vincent receive a serious blow, Una sprinted toward the king's back. For once, she didn't make a sound; it would be dangerous to announce her sneak attack. Surprise might be her only tool. Unfortunately, she was not a trained fighter, especially in this body, and she had no weapons or clothes (except for the meager strips of undergarments) to defend herself. Una leapt, and sunk her teeth into the first thing she could bite.
Roll = 52
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 27, 2022 3:18:11 GMT -6
[OOC: Murderfox runs past the King, slicing at the join of leg to kneecap as he darts past, in an attempt to cripple his movement. Roll: 97.]
As he ran from the sword swings, John was filled with both a bone-deep chill of terror and a pulsing, maddening anger. To be chased and hunted down like some lowly prey animal, unable to fight back without the aid of his tails and their power, was both horrifying and infuriating. He had been almost blasé before, just ready to be finished with all this rubbish, but now- now he was faced with it... He didn't want to go through this, didn't want to die like he had so nearly done before.
So when the King turned and abruptly charged for another, John considered concealing himself, slinking away and avoiding the risk. But that, too, filled him with anger. Why should he be forced to cower away like a beaten dog?! How insulting!
As he stared at the tall undead creature, watched others of the group attempt to attack but make little headway and fixated upon the deadly sword, a red mist began to descend across the fox's vision. His pulse pounded in his ears, breath huffing with small growls of anger as his hackles raised.
How dare you.
His tail brought the blade he carried to the Kumiho's mouth. The handle was soon clenched in his jaws, exposing the sharp edge at a right angle to his mouth. He padded forward. Trotted. Sprinted.
How. Dare. You!
As a blur of red fur shot past the King's legs, John slid the blade into the gap between the top of the kneecap and the creature's upper leg, aiming to sever whatever flesh, ligament or sinew lay between. If he could cripple the creature's movement, it would make things easier.
He continued running after his attack, not stupid enough, even in his fury, to remain within striking distance longer than he had to.
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 27, 2022 4:34:14 GMT -6
[ Ash can't fight, so instead he tries to help the mummy with the holy balm and if allowed will spread the stuff onto the mummy's back. ]
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Post by indeath on Oct 27, 2022 5:29:30 GMT -6
(( August assists Ash in embalming Leo.))
Seeing his friends getting hurt, with Una trying to attack the king. August felt compelled to try to help in some way. They needed to give Leo time to finish. August tried not to consider what the outcome would be.
The king was a ferocious fighter and August knew he lacked the strength or confidence to fight back. His vampiric abilities were almost non existent wherever they were.
Instead he assisted Leo and Ash with applying the balm, concentrating on his legs. The quicker this was done, hopefully the king would die or be destroyed by the goddess. Hopefully before he murdered their friends.
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Post by beastly on Oct 27, 2022 14:09:56 GMT -6
((Vince is hurt, and he goes to defend August, Ash, and Leo.)) ((Knife, Arrow, Bow))
Vincent gripped his arm, hissing in pain while trying to put distance between him and the corpse. The arrow had done nothing, nothing except get the damned thing to attack him. There was blood now, his own. He staggered backwards, and was about to break into a run when Una, in her human form, leapt at the undead, trying to bite him. The hunter blinked owlishly, and then ran, half aware of the fox's shenanigans that followed. They were distracting the thing, hopefully they wouldn't have to for long. They had neither tools nor time to discern a weakness. There was the thought of setting the undead king on fire, the dead man was probably just as dry and flammable as Leo, a but aside from throwing candles, he wasn't sure how to accomplish that.
St. Leopold. It was all down to him. Vincent scrambled over to where August and Ash were preparing him, eyes flicking from the mummy to the king. Then Una and the fox. Vincent abandoned the bow, holding the knife in his good hand. If the king tried to get at Leopold before they were done, Vincent would put himself in the way of things. Breathing hard, he locked eyes on the fight, trying to ignore the way the blood dripped down his hand and splattered on the floor.
"A-Almost."
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