Re: Intense Struggle Season 2! (Round 3: Castle Suterrea)
02-28-2011, 10:01 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by GreyGabe.
Marcus sighed as he grabbed his shotgun and waited for the inevitable shift. What had possessed him to play scout mother? He didn’t even do that for his own men, and here he was, trying to rally the people who were supposed to kill him. The rest of White’s Wolves would have laughed their collective ass off if he had made a speech like that in front of them.
Then came the shift. Marcus listened as his host rattled off the details of the latest killing-ground.
Castle? Ugh. Magic? Ugh. Roaring demonic hell-beasts? Ugh.
You could at least send us somewhere where I could hope to find a rocket launcher or something.
Still, the word ‘treasure’ had piqued his interest a bit. Marcus was a mercenary after all. Money was what made his planetoid go ‘round. Or would, once he was rich enough to own his own planetoid.
Smiling slightly, Marcus found himself standing in a small, circular room, dimly lit by candles and a small flame crackling away in the fireplace. Behind him stood an old-fashioned, four-poster bed, which was covered by plush red blankets and fluffy pillows. It even looked like the frame was made out of real wood, something Marcus didn’t see too often. In fact, there were several pieces of wooden furniture in here. Two chairs and a small table, a dresser, and an absolutely huge wardrobe were all arranged around the room. A large window looked out on a dark, moonless night.
Marcus broke down his shotgun, storing it in its special holster. He then unclipped Retribution from his shoulder strap and activated its onboard computer, feeling the familiar itchy tingling somewhere behind his eyes as it connected to his implants. After the sensation faded, he nodded as he felt the usual clarity, the slight rightness when he was on target, and decided that despite the rough ride he’d been through, everything was still in perfect working order.
Marcus walked slowly to the window, hoping to get his bearings and some sort of overview of the castle. Beyond the thin panes of glass, the night was illuminated only by starlight. Marcus seemed to be in a tower, overlooking the castle’s courtyard. Even with his enhanced vision, he could scarcely see anything but vague shapes out in the darkness. Still, he thought he could make out a courtyard below, past the bulk that was the rest of the castle. Everything was still, and silent. Marcus didn’t like it one bit. Turning back to the room, he began to look around in earnest. Who had lit the candles, started the fire in the fireplace? Why did everything look so… neat? If there weren’t any people here, this room should be dusty, disheveled. It was almost as if someone was living here, keeping everything tidy. His eyes narrowed and settled on the wardrobe.
He walked slowly over to it, listening for anything that sounded out of place. He reached out slowly, ready to jump back. He grasped the handle, took a deep breath, and jerked it open. Nothing. Well, a few fancy dresses, but nothing really in Marcus’s color. They were all reds and browns, and he was really more of a winter... plus, these looked to be a bit on the small side. He pushed some of them aside, and found nothing but the wooden back of the wardrobe. He backed away and closed it, chuckling at his own paranoia. Deciding that he might as well search the room thoroughly (not that he was looking for treasure or anything, oh no, just being cautious), he moved over to the dresser, and pulled open the top drawer. He then closed it, frowning slightly, deciding that he didn’t really care to root through a lady’s unmentionables at the moment.
Shrugging, he was preparing to leave when something flitted past the window. His head snapped around and he brought his rifle to bear almost before he realized he had moved. Suddenly, from beneath the window, up popped a figure, vaguely feminine in appearance, with long, skinny limbs and a thin, pale face, surrounded by coal-black hair that seemed to float, weightless around its head. Its eyes dully reflected the candlelight, and its mouth was set in wide grin. Slowly, it lifted one hand and ran its fingers down the glass.
“Let me in, human. It’s sssssooooo cold out here. Please, take pity on meeeee…”
Marcus wondered if it had really thought that that would work, or if it was just toying with him.
“Pleeeeeeaaasssssse?”
Marcus blinked once, raised the Retribution, and squeezed off two shots. Glass shattered outwards, and the strange woman disappeared from view. Marcus decided that it was time to be leaving. He backed over to the door, turned and opened it, checking that it was safe before turning back to the window. The woman-thing was now inside, standing on all fours, low to the floor, looking up at him with its dull silvery eyes. Its frame was even bonier and longer than he had thought it was, and its hands and feet ended in long, pointed claws. Its head twisted at an extreme angle, and it shifted itself a few inches forward.
“Okay, you’re in.” Marcus took a backwards step towards the door, “Why don’t you just have a nice sit-down in front of the fire, and I’ll go get you something to snack on.”
“How courteous! But… unnecessary. There is already plenty to eat, right he--”
Marcus shot it in the head. It thrashed about for a moment, and went still. Marcus kept his weapon trained on it. Sure enough, after a second had passed, the head snapped up again, the bullet-hole already sealing shut.
“That was not very nice, human!”
“You know, you’re right. I’m very sorry.” Marcus shot again, but this time the creature shuffled out of the way, unerringly fast, and began crawling towards him, its long tongue lolling out of its mouth. He leapt backwards, slamming the door shut. He then turned and began to run, finding himself on a long spiral staircase. He heard something slamming into the door, and then the sound of splintering wood. Marcus picked up the pace, moving down the stairs as quickly as was safe. He heard the door crash open, and series of inhuman shrieks that made him cringe in pain came tearing down the stairwell. Scrabbling sounds, like metal on stone, followed soon after. Marcus counted quickly, and it sure sounded like more than one of those things was after him. Yaaaaay. Marcus uttered a silent thank you to Karen for the vial of mystical whatever that was currently letting him run in horror away from something, rather than limping away in horror. Still, it sounded like they were gaining on him.
Just as he was about to wonder how tall this tower could be, he found a door. It looked… even less sturdy than the one those things had already broken down. Still, it gave him an idea, and he reached down to grab something from his belt.
They almost had him. His heartbeat was almost thundering in their ears, now. Soon, they would feast as they had not feasted in years. They could not let this one fall into the hands of one of the other beings that roamed the castle! Yes, soon—
A small, metal object bounced off of the wall ahead of them, closely followed by the sound of a slamming door. The lead slagh caught the object, and stopped to examine it curiously. The others pushed forward, looking to see what the first had. A small metal cylinder it was, with strange red symbols on the side… and another symbol above them, one that almost looked like a pictogram of—
Even from several meters away, Marcus felt the blast of heat on his back as the incendiary grenade went off, blasting the door into flaming splinters and charring the stonework of the hallway an even darker shade of grey. Marcus turned now, rifle held ready, just in case. After a moment, he sucked in a gasp of smoke-scented air. That had been… less than fun. And now he only had one incendiary grenade to use if Reudic proved less than dependable. Though it seemed to have proven effective in this particular instance, he had to admit. Marcus looked around him. He was now in a long corridor, which seemed to stretch off for as far as he could see. Not that that was surprising; it was gloomy enough that he could barely see much of anything. Once again, he found himself missing his helmet, with its built-in night vision, rebreather system, and HUD overlay. Still, he found he could see far enough ahead to react to anything hostile that might come across him. At least, he decided, there weren’t any more windows about. He began to move, slowly, deciding that he should probably try to find some of the others. And, without anything else to go on, that probably meant he should generally be moving down, seeing as he started out pretty high up. He walked away from the tower door, glancing over his shoulder a few times to make sure he wasn’t followed.
After the blast had scared away the rest of the slaghs, and the room had gone quiet once more, the young lady pulled herself out from under the bed, where she had hidden from the strange man that had appeared out of thin air. And the nerve of him! Rifling through her wardrobe and dresser as if he owned them, breaking her window and killing her servants with mage fire! These wrongs would simply have to be redressed.
Had Marcus seen the creature that appeared to be a young woman, he would have decided that she looked very nearly human, but altogether alien overall. Her grey eyes were slightly too large, her hair slightly too white, her skin unnaturally pale. The way she moved was somehow too fluid, as well, as if she was weightless.
She gathered up her skirts and advanced purposefully down the stairs. Almost halfway down, she came upon one of her slaghs, wounded but not dead, in too much pain even to cry out, the poor thing. She gently stroked its bloodied cheek, and almost absent-mindedly lifted her fingers to her mouth to taste the blood. She decided to take pity on her poor servant, and put it out of its misery by ripping out its throat. With her teeth. For several moments she ripped and tore at it before sitting back, sated, for the moment. With some embarrassment she realized her dress was now all bloody. That just wouldn’t do! She would have to change into a clean dress before leaving. She wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression, after all.
Marcus sighed as he grabbed his shotgun and waited for the inevitable shift. What had possessed him to play scout mother? He didn’t even do that for his own men, and here he was, trying to rally the people who were supposed to kill him. The rest of White’s Wolves would have laughed their collective ass off if he had made a speech like that in front of them.
Then came the shift. Marcus listened as his host rattled off the details of the latest killing-ground.
Castle? Ugh. Magic? Ugh. Roaring demonic hell-beasts? Ugh.
You could at least send us somewhere where I could hope to find a rocket launcher or something.
Still, the word ‘treasure’ had piqued his interest a bit. Marcus was a mercenary after all. Money was what made his planetoid go ‘round. Or would, once he was rich enough to own his own planetoid.
Smiling slightly, Marcus found himself standing in a small, circular room, dimly lit by candles and a small flame crackling away in the fireplace. Behind him stood an old-fashioned, four-poster bed, which was covered by plush red blankets and fluffy pillows. It even looked like the frame was made out of real wood, something Marcus didn’t see too often. In fact, there were several pieces of wooden furniture in here. Two chairs and a small table, a dresser, and an absolutely huge wardrobe were all arranged around the room. A large window looked out on a dark, moonless night.
Marcus broke down his shotgun, storing it in its special holster. He then unclipped Retribution from his shoulder strap and activated its onboard computer, feeling the familiar itchy tingling somewhere behind his eyes as it connected to his implants. After the sensation faded, he nodded as he felt the usual clarity, the slight rightness when he was on target, and decided that despite the rough ride he’d been through, everything was still in perfect working order.
Marcus walked slowly to the window, hoping to get his bearings and some sort of overview of the castle. Beyond the thin panes of glass, the night was illuminated only by starlight. Marcus seemed to be in a tower, overlooking the castle’s courtyard. Even with his enhanced vision, he could scarcely see anything but vague shapes out in the darkness. Still, he thought he could make out a courtyard below, past the bulk that was the rest of the castle. Everything was still, and silent. Marcus didn’t like it one bit. Turning back to the room, he began to look around in earnest. Who had lit the candles, started the fire in the fireplace? Why did everything look so… neat? If there weren’t any people here, this room should be dusty, disheveled. It was almost as if someone was living here, keeping everything tidy. His eyes narrowed and settled on the wardrobe.
He walked slowly over to it, listening for anything that sounded out of place. He reached out slowly, ready to jump back. He grasped the handle, took a deep breath, and jerked it open. Nothing. Well, a few fancy dresses, but nothing really in Marcus’s color. They were all reds and browns, and he was really more of a winter... plus, these looked to be a bit on the small side. He pushed some of them aside, and found nothing but the wooden back of the wardrobe. He backed away and closed it, chuckling at his own paranoia. Deciding that he might as well search the room thoroughly (not that he was looking for treasure or anything, oh no, just being cautious), he moved over to the dresser, and pulled open the top drawer. He then closed it, frowning slightly, deciding that he didn’t really care to root through a lady’s unmentionables at the moment.
Shrugging, he was preparing to leave when something flitted past the window. His head snapped around and he brought his rifle to bear almost before he realized he had moved. Suddenly, from beneath the window, up popped a figure, vaguely feminine in appearance, with long, skinny limbs and a thin, pale face, surrounded by coal-black hair that seemed to float, weightless around its head. Its eyes dully reflected the candlelight, and its mouth was set in wide grin. Slowly, it lifted one hand and ran its fingers down the glass.
“Let me in, human. It’s sssssooooo cold out here. Please, take pity on meeeee…”
Marcus wondered if it had really thought that that would work, or if it was just toying with him.
“Pleeeeeeaaasssssse?”
Marcus blinked once, raised the Retribution, and squeezed off two shots. Glass shattered outwards, and the strange woman disappeared from view. Marcus decided that it was time to be leaving. He backed over to the door, turned and opened it, checking that it was safe before turning back to the window. The woman-thing was now inside, standing on all fours, low to the floor, looking up at him with its dull silvery eyes. Its frame was even bonier and longer than he had thought it was, and its hands and feet ended in long, pointed claws. Its head twisted at an extreme angle, and it shifted itself a few inches forward.
“Okay, you’re in.” Marcus took a backwards step towards the door, “Why don’t you just have a nice sit-down in front of the fire, and I’ll go get you something to snack on.”
“How courteous! But… unnecessary. There is already plenty to eat, right he--”
Marcus shot it in the head. It thrashed about for a moment, and went still. Marcus kept his weapon trained on it. Sure enough, after a second had passed, the head snapped up again, the bullet-hole already sealing shut.
“That was not very nice, human!”
“You know, you’re right. I’m very sorry.” Marcus shot again, but this time the creature shuffled out of the way, unerringly fast, and began crawling towards him, its long tongue lolling out of its mouth. He leapt backwards, slamming the door shut. He then turned and began to run, finding himself on a long spiral staircase. He heard something slamming into the door, and then the sound of splintering wood. Marcus picked up the pace, moving down the stairs as quickly as was safe. He heard the door crash open, and series of inhuman shrieks that made him cringe in pain came tearing down the stairwell. Scrabbling sounds, like metal on stone, followed soon after. Marcus counted quickly, and it sure sounded like more than one of those things was after him. Yaaaaay. Marcus uttered a silent thank you to Karen for the vial of mystical whatever that was currently letting him run in horror away from something, rather than limping away in horror. Still, it sounded like they were gaining on him.
Just as he was about to wonder how tall this tower could be, he found a door. It looked… even less sturdy than the one those things had already broken down. Still, it gave him an idea, and he reached down to grab something from his belt.
They almost had him. His heartbeat was almost thundering in their ears, now. Soon, they would feast as they had not feasted in years. They could not let this one fall into the hands of one of the other beings that roamed the castle! Yes, soon—
A small, metal object bounced off of the wall ahead of them, closely followed by the sound of a slamming door. The lead slagh caught the object, and stopped to examine it curiously. The others pushed forward, looking to see what the first had. A small metal cylinder it was, with strange red symbols on the side… and another symbol above them, one that almost looked like a pictogram of—
Even from several meters away, Marcus felt the blast of heat on his back as the incendiary grenade went off, blasting the door into flaming splinters and charring the stonework of the hallway an even darker shade of grey. Marcus turned now, rifle held ready, just in case. After a moment, he sucked in a gasp of smoke-scented air. That had been… less than fun. And now he only had one incendiary grenade to use if Reudic proved less than dependable. Though it seemed to have proven effective in this particular instance, he had to admit. Marcus looked around him. He was now in a long corridor, which seemed to stretch off for as far as he could see. Not that that was surprising; it was gloomy enough that he could barely see much of anything. Once again, he found himself missing his helmet, with its built-in night vision, rebreather system, and HUD overlay. Still, he found he could see far enough ahead to react to anything hostile that might come across him. At least, he decided, there weren’t any more windows about. He began to move, slowly, deciding that he should probably try to find some of the others. And, without anything else to go on, that probably meant he should generally be moving down, seeing as he started out pretty high up. He walked away from the tower door, glancing over his shoulder a few times to make sure he wasn’t followed.
After the blast had scared away the rest of the slaghs, and the room had gone quiet once more, the young lady pulled herself out from under the bed, where she had hidden from the strange man that had appeared out of thin air. And the nerve of him! Rifling through her wardrobe and dresser as if he owned them, breaking her window and killing her servants with mage fire! These wrongs would simply have to be redressed.
Had Marcus seen the creature that appeared to be a young woman, he would have decided that she looked very nearly human, but altogether alien overall. Her grey eyes were slightly too large, her hair slightly too white, her skin unnaturally pale. The way she moved was somehow too fluid, as well, as if she was weightless.
She gathered up her skirts and advanced purposefully down the stairs. Almost halfway down, she came upon one of her slaghs, wounded but not dead, in too much pain even to cry out, the poor thing. She gently stroked its bloodied cheek, and almost absent-mindedly lifted her fingers to her mouth to taste the blood. She decided to take pity on her poor servant, and put it out of its misery by ripping out its throat. With her teeth. For several moments she ripped and tore at it before sitting back, sated, for the moment. With some embarrassment she realized her dress was now all bloody. That just wouldn’t do! She would have to change into a clean dress before leaving. She wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression, after all.