Re: Epic Clash Round 4 - The Unholy Fortress
10-12-2010, 08:15 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.
Thomas Packston rode around the mine. He wasn't sure why, but he figured any change of scenery would be good at that point. He wasn't allowed good at the moment it seemed, because time after time the dirt-walled tunnels looped around back to themselves, the tracks being more of a braided labyrinth than a quick way down. Bern, Eric and Walt, neither of them seemed to pay a lot of attention to their surroundings.
That was the moment Greg got up again. His sleep was interrupted almost instantly, and his general presence had a different flair to it. The other three fractions of Thomas' mind could not or couldn't be bothered to put their fingers on it though. Greg walked up to the center of the worn rug on the floor, and addressed all others at the same time. "I think we need to go deeper."
Neither of the others noticed the distinct lack of argumentation from Greg's side, the door of their comfy house being slightly ajar, and the general presence of evil spirits around in the maze. "Why? That Overseer said there's something bad down there."
"Controlling it would mean to get an upper hand over the others."
"Greg," Walt interrupted, "you're usually not down with combat. What's wrong?"
"We need to go down, Walt! There's some kind of power waiting there, a power similar to Asteira's! IF we can learn how it acts and how to gain control over it, we can learn from it, and overthrow that witch! We need to go down. How do we get down?"
The others shared a quick queer look at each other regarding Greg. "Greg, if you think so, we'll go down. I trust you on this one." Eric's reassuring words were lost on the slightly insane spirit controlling Greg.
In hindsight of course it's strange how no one noticed the draft from the open door, the little spot of mold growing in a corner of the room, Greg's brown eyes glowing with a faint green, his lack of clarity for his actions, the brashness, the swiftness, the subduing spell rendering every other of the minds apathic. Although, that last bit does make it a little less strange.
The mine's path came to a halt at a large heap of what appeared to be precious metals. Greg would have recognised some as pyrite, sapphire and silver had he not been possessed. The others payed the heaps of probably carbon or something no mind, and passively continued in the directions Greg decided on.
---
Spender had to get his facts straightened out. Organising his spare change, he thought of which spells to ration himself with for the remainder of this round. "The Overseer is definitely XB. Chronicler, not so sure. A, I'd guess."
The agent shuffled some coins around. Only one of them remotely looked like it could even scratch an A rank. "The Overseer mentioned insanity. Do I still have a data rulespace? Only a little one. IF I need to know if something is real, I might use it. Then again, The Overseer uses illusion aswell..."
Coy Spender flipped through the crevices of his wallet he mentally labeled for each round, and for the final battle. The coin rested on top of the wallet, finding a place to sink into. It failed, so Spender gave it a push towards the "Uncertain" region.
Sorting his pennies, he continued through the caves, which to his knowledge seemed to keep getting colder. Curious. He wondered if this could be the work of the same magic controlling Bluestone Cave. Wether it was or not, it did require investigation. He needed to go down. And the path kept spiraling down, down, down. The cold surfaces of the walls reflected his face, and only then did he notice truly what effects the battle was having on him. He did not see the protector of everything good he was used to. He saw something jarring, something more than jarring. He saw... Asteira?
"Well, well well, who have we here? Agent Coy Spender, no less!"
"You again. Leave me be, I'm checking out the place."
"Right, as the protector of everything good?"
Asteira seemed to have stolen those words from Spender's thoughts exactly, and this startled him into not replying.
"Oh yeah, you're the saviour of humanity. Like that time you killed countless of survivors by practically eating that flying city whole! You said it yourself, they're biologically human. They are your job aswell."
At this point the irritation was clearly readable off Spender's face.
"She's right you know."
Thomas who was stuck in a frozen wall agreed with the woman who frequently tried to assail him.
"Oh, so that's it. You're an illusion. Pretty poor play there, not even worth wasting a rulespace on."
"Hah, typically you. The answers people give you don't scan with your perfect little world, where your judgement is the only one, so you escape. Always running away, just like with Domino Effect. Like with Susan."
"Susan... I, that... You don't know that!"
"I think you need to check your facts again." The shadows in the crystalline walls danced around to display a ridicule play of the situation. A caricature of Susan and Coy appeared on the walls, alongside an amalgamous blob of ice and shadows playing the role of Shattered.
It was horrible. The dead deserved rest, especially her.
"You're not real! Let me go! She has nothing, nothing to do with this!"
"Then run."
An imaginary wall slid in place behind him, followed by another, closing the tunnel shut with a thick layer of make-believe-concrete. For Spender it all seemed too real though, and he started running.
"Yes, go down, down down down. She's there for you. Waiting."
Thomas Packston rode around the mine. He wasn't sure why, but he figured any change of scenery would be good at that point. He wasn't allowed good at the moment it seemed, because time after time the dirt-walled tunnels looped around back to themselves, the tracks being more of a braided labyrinth than a quick way down. Bern, Eric and Walt, neither of them seemed to pay a lot of attention to their surroundings.
That was the moment Greg got up again. His sleep was interrupted almost instantly, and his general presence had a different flair to it. The other three fractions of Thomas' mind could not or couldn't be bothered to put their fingers on it though. Greg walked up to the center of the worn rug on the floor, and addressed all others at the same time. "I think we need to go deeper."
Neither of the others noticed the distinct lack of argumentation from Greg's side, the door of their comfy house being slightly ajar, and the general presence of evil spirits around in the maze. "Why? That Overseer said there's something bad down there."
"Controlling it would mean to get an upper hand over the others."
"Greg," Walt interrupted, "you're usually not down with combat. What's wrong?"
"We need to go down, Walt! There's some kind of power waiting there, a power similar to Asteira's! IF we can learn how it acts and how to gain control over it, we can learn from it, and overthrow that witch! We need to go down. How do we get down?"
The others shared a quick queer look at each other regarding Greg. "Greg, if you think so, we'll go down. I trust you on this one." Eric's reassuring words were lost on the slightly insane spirit controlling Greg.
In hindsight of course it's strange how no one noticed the draft from the open door, the little spot of mold growing in a corner of the room, Greg's brown eyes glowing with a faint green, his lack of clarity for his actions, the brashness, the swiftness, the subduing spell rendering every other of the minds apathic. Although, that last bit does make it a little less strange.
The mine's path came to a halt at a large heap of what appeared to be precious metals. Greg would have recognised some as pyrite, sapphire and silver had he not been possessed. The others payed the heaps of probably carbon or something no mind, and passively continued in the directions Greg decided on.
---
Spender had to get his facts straightened out. Organising his spare change, he thought of which spells to ration himself with for the remainder of this round. "The Overseer is definitely XB. Chronicler, not so sure. A, I'd guess."
The agent shuffled some coins around. Only one of them remotely looked like it could even scratch an A rank. "The Overseer mentioned insanity. Do I still have a data rulespace? Only a little one. IF I need to know if something is real, I might use it. Then again, The Overseer uses illusion aswell..."
Coy Spender flipped through the crevices of his wallet he mentally labeled for each round, and for the final battle. The coin rested on top of the wallet, finding a place to sink into. It failed, so Spender gave it a push towards the "Uncertain" region.
Sorting his pennies, he continued through the caves, which to his knowledge seemed to keep getting colder. Curious. He wondered if this could be the work of the same magic controlling Bluestone Cave. Wether it was or not, it did require investigation. He needed to go down. And the path kept spiraling down, down, down. The cold surfaces of the walls reflected his face, and only then did he notice truly what effects the battle was having on him. He did not see the protector of everything good he was used to. He saw something jarring, something more than jarring. He saw... Asteira?
"Well, well well, who have we here? Agent Coy Spender, no less!"
"You again. Leave me be, I'm checking out the place."
"Right, as the protector of everything good?"
Asteira seemed to have stolen those words from Spender's thoughts exactly, and this startled him into not replying.
"Oh yeah, you're the saviour of humanity. Like that time you killed countless of survivors by practically eating that flying city whole! You said it yourself, they're biologically human. They are your job aswell."
At this point the irritation was clearly readable off Spender's face.
"She's right you know."
Thomas who was stuck in a frozen wall agreed with the woman who frequently tried to assail him.
"Oh, so that's it. You're an illusion. Pretty poor play there, not even worth wasting a rulespace on."
"Hah, typically you. The answers people give you don't scan with your perfect little world, where your judgement is the only one, so you escape. Always running away, just like with Domino Effect. Like with Susan."
"Susan... I, that... You don't know that!"
"I think you need to check your facts again." The shadows in the crystalline walls danced around to display a ridicule play of the situation. A caricature of Susan and Coy appeared on the walls, alongside an amalgamous blob of ice and shadows playing the role of Shattered.
It was horrible. The dead deserved rest, especially her.
"You're not real! Let me go! She has nothing, nothing to do with this!"
"Then run."
An imaginary wall slid in place behind him, followed by another, closing the tunnel shut with a thick layer of make-believe-concrete. For Spender it all seemed too real though, and he started running.
"Yes, go down, down down down. She's there for you. Waiting."
quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur.