Re: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round Three: Caelo Ruinam)
01-17-2012, 07:18 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Sergeant Orpington curled up at some presumed-deity's feet, his sobbing stifled less by shame and more at fear of something discovering him. Great sheets of some glittering, rust-coloured mineral - each panel probably more valuable than his worth as a human being – emblazoned the relief's claws and spines and vicious beak.
He wasn't sure what he'd done to raise the Lady's ire. Probably disagree, even a little bit, that Caelo Ruinam's dungeons were lousy with monsters. Or that it was now his job to go clear them out. That seemed about right, Orpington conceded.
The sergeant's vision slowly recovered (though Orpington didn't know it, the Sunstroke Device's ignition had coincided with the blinding flash issued simultaneously by all the gems inlaid in the dungeon walls), interrupting the careful review of his life choices as he gazed upon its snarling countenance. Orpington's eyes widened, and he scrambled backwards yelling hoarsely. The backs of his hands seared as he slung minespell after minespell at the carving, realising his mistake as his own blood splashed his face.
Ok, he'd panicked. Orpington admitted that much, wincing and wiping clear the symbols on his hands. That was fine; stumbling blind through a hithero-presumed-empty dungeon while your eyes readjusted to darkness, and into the den of an emaciated and pissed-off version of the creature Mother assured would toss you off a cliff into its nestlings' jaws if you didn't behave; that could set a man on edge. You've barely had these sygils for two weeks, Orpington reassured himself. You're lucky to be alive; at least you're not on adventurer watch. Now that's suicide. You can just bring this creature's head back – or what's left of it – and see if Lady Midday won't call it an honest day's work-
An irritable clack went off behind Orpington, the effect similar to a skyward gunshot. To say Jetsam needed no provocation was a lie – one raised, bloodied hand elicited enough of an unpleasant memory that didn't belong to him. Sure, it wasn't much provocation, but nobody present would've quibbled.
The sergeant gurgled along some lines of it not being fair. It didn't even register that his new form understood Local Human, but Jetsam was inclined to agree. He lowered Orpington gently to the floor, extricating his rust-coloured claw from the soldier's midriff, before kicking him across the hall.
Jetsam scooped him up, swung him by the ankle into another wall, before stabbing what was left through the middle a few more times. One final underarm fling and the wanderer slunk over to examine his handiwork. For a good couple of minutes, he just stared - some introspective, wounded part of him begging the rest to stop being so impassive.
It gave up, after a minute or so. Jetsam stalked back past the den in which he'd materialised, searching for a way up and out of the castle's catacombs.
Sergeant Orpington curled up at some presumed-deity's feet, his sobbing stifled less by shame and more at fear of something discovering him. Great sheets of some glittering, rust-coloured mineral - each panel probably more valuable than his worth as a human being – emblazoned the relief's claws and spines and vicious beak.
He wasn't sure what he'd done to raise the Lady's ire. Probably disagree, even a little bit, that Caelo Ruinam's dungeons were lousy with monsters. Or that it was now his job to go clear them out. That seemed about right, Orpington conceded.
The sergeant's vision slowly recovered (though Orpington didn't know it, the Sunstroke Device's ignition had coincided with the blinding flash issued simultaneously by all the gems inlaid in the dungeon walls), interrupting the careful review of his life choices as he gazed upon its snarling countenance. Orpington's eyes widened, and he scrambled backwards yelling hoarsely. The backs of his hands seared as he slung minespell after minespell at the carving, realising his mistake as his own blood splashed his face.
Ok, he'd panicked. Orpington admitted that much, wincing and wiping clear the symbols on his hands. That was fine; stumbling blind through a hithero-presumed-empty dungeon while your eyes readjusted to darkness, and into the den of an emaciated and pissed-off version of the creature Mother assured would toss you off a cliff into its nestlings' jaws if you didn't behave; that could set a man on edge. You've barely had these sygils for two weeks, Orpington reassured himself. You're lucky to be alive; at least you're not on adventurer watch. Now that's suicide. You can just bring this creature's head back – or what's left of it – and see if Lady Midday won't call it an honest day's work-
An irritable clack went off behind Orpington, the effect similar to a skyward gunshot. To say Jetsam needed no provocation was a lie – one raised, bloodied hand elicited enough of an unpleasant memory that didn't belong to him. Sure, it wasn't much provocation, but nobody present would've quibbled.
The sergeant gurgled along some lines of it not being fair. It didn't even register that his new form understood Local Human, but Jetsam was inclined to agree. He lowered Orpington gently to the floor, extricating his rust-coloured claw from the soldier's midriff, before kicking him across the hall.
Jetsam scooped him up, swung him by the ankle into another wall, before stabbing what was left through the middle a few more times. One final underarm fling and the wanderer slunk over to examine his handiwork. For a good couple of minutes, he just stared - some introspective, wounded part of him begging the rest to stop being so impassive.
It gave up, after a minute or so. Jetsam stalked back past the den in which he'd materialised, searching for a way up and out of the castle's catacombs.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow