Was she sensitive to pain, or were her ears abnormally sensitive? As the large-eared woman reacted rather childishly to her own ears, Isidore tugged on his own. It didn’t feel all that noteworthy for him, and now, he certainly had to wonder.
How would she respond to a gentler touch upon those ears of hers? Perhaps the Goddess’s prophecies and perspectives had some weight to them after all.
Though it was clear enough that this woman, Augusta, received a gift of sight, of knowledge, from the Lady of the Depths. Still, it would be uncouth to skip so many steps in pursuing a lady so picture-perfect as the one before him, regardless of their gothic surroundings. “I’ve no intention of doing so in our current situation,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Good name, if ill-suited for our surroundings.”
A momentary pause, his dark gaze gliding towards their neighbor in the cell adjacent to them. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a boy-next-door look. How many humans had the Goddess plucked out from Death’s grasp anyhow? The lady deigned to respond though, so Isidore turned away from him after, grasping the shackles that extended out from the walls instead. He took a breath, then pulled at them, gradually increasing exertion until he could feel the rusted bolts and eroded stone give way. A bit more, and he wrenched two shackles out from the wall.
Wasn’t going to last, but it was comforting, nonetheless, having such a nostalgic weapon. Reminded him of the days when he was a snot-nosed brat, tying a combination lock to a handkerchief so he could break the jaw out of the fifteen year old who stole his backpack. Good times, reckless times.
“I’ve no intent on staying here longer than necessary myself, Augusta. Seeing you understand my boon as well, I’m sure you aren’t against following my lead?” Isidore strode to the window, jerking his head off to the side. “We’ll be heading out. I’m Isidore, and the lady behind me is Augusta. Let’s acquaint ourselves properly once we meet outside.”
With that, he strode out casually, heading straight for the black stone walls that faced them. Inspecting them with some care, Isidore followed the carvings with his eyes, noting the patterns that the artistic carvings had. It flowed too regularly to be language, unless it repeated a single phrase constantly. Just art then.
“Fancy prison,” he muttered, and turned his attention further down the room, listening for the overweight warden as he proceeded through it.
His thoughts slowly returned as he regained consciousness, the first thing on his mind being the seeming dream he had just awakened from, even ignoring the pain of his fall. The words of the self-styled goddess, or what his mind could recall of them, played in his still-groggy mind. Being saved from oblivion, being pulled into a new world. He did not open his eyes, not yet- he wanted to try and recall everything she had said, lest his memory of the dream dissipate before he could commit it to memory.
She had said that she had pulled him from oblivion, brought him back to a new world. A dead world, one of people fighting for resources and cowering in fear of monsters, and the goddess had wanted him to fix it, and rebuild it. But why would she choose him, he pondered, straining to figure an answer. He could not remember why. In fact, he could not remember anything of who he once was. Everything from before that seemed to be blank. Fortunately, he was able to remember why not...
"My, how curious. Once I thought memories were a persons greatest treasure. After all, even if nothing else one could content to remember good things, and yet you wanted to forget. You humans continue to baffle me, but that's why I like you. Now, weave me a tale then, one who would forget everything in order to move forward."
According to her words, it was he who wanted to forget his old life. He could not recall why he had harbored such a desire, however; it seems that detail had also been forgotten. All he could remember of himself was a name.
Novak. My name is Novak He was not entirely sure if it was the last vestige of his previous life, or if the goddess had planted it into his mind to give him a new identity. Perhaps it wasn't important where it came from, what mattered was that it was his name now.
"Nothing can be accomplished by simply remaining here," he heard someone in the room speak. "As such, we should collect this man and make our exit in order to more properly get out bearings."
This voice was not that of the goddess, but it reminded Novak of the goddess' final and most urgent words to him before awakening:
Hmph...less time than I would like. I will be putting you in a relatively safe place with others. You can find weapons, knowledge, and other things there that could help you - but do not linger. The guardian of that place will find you, and it will kill you, and I will not help once you are there."
This warning was enough to compel Novak to open his eyes and turn his attention to his current situation, draped over broken furniture after having lost his footing. His mishap had been a bit painful, but nothing serious. Still groggy, he struggled to pull himself to his feet. The goddess had said that she had made him a new body, didn't she? He could not muster any recall of his old body, but this one seemed to feel "right". His benefactor even had the courtesy to provide him with a set of clothes.
The man looked around at where he was. It was a room with walls and floors of stone, with a broken staircase heading to upper levels. The room was filled with broken furniture and scattered weapons, suggesting that perhaps there had been a battle or skirmish here. Lastly, there were several cylinders in the room, some open, some closed. It seemed that one such cylinder had held him until a few moments ago.
Sharing this space with him were two women. One was quite small in stature, with red eyes and black hair.
She looks human, but her appearance seems...off somehow.
The second woman was even stranger-looking, however, with long white hair and what appeared to be white-furred animal ears atop her head. Novak found himself reflexively double-checking his own body, curious if he had any sort of unusual features too. To his relief, he seemed entirely human.
"What's going on?" he asked the women, now fully awake. "Who are you two? Did that goddess bring you here?"
Donovan nodded as the catgirl introduced herself. Leannah seemed decently reliable, and the fact that she could apparently hear guardian's current whereabouts was more than likely going to prove an invaluable tool in the coming hours. Even further, there was apparently a fourth reincarnator that had just emerged from a pod on the third floor of the decrepit stone structure.
Unfortunately for them, the stairs leading to the third floor were broken.
Luckily, Donovan had just the thing to fix that, "Aye'm on et lass, just let meh know if the guardian's gettin' close... Aye don't want tah draw that thing's attention."
Wasting no time, Don immediately took inventory of the available materials. Despite how run down the building itself was, the fact that the furniture was still in such good condition was a damn miracle; he'd be able to salvage more than enough wood and nails to get the job done. Now all that remained was to figure out how the hell he activated this 'foreman' ability of his.
But then an extremely bright light drew his attention.
Donovan spun around in a panic; his eyes wide as he locked his gaze on Malphas. To say that the glowing visage of the man was anything other than astonishing would be a lie... In that singular moment, his perception of the stranger was changed entirely.
Tearing off his coat as he made a mad dash at the human lightbulb, Don hurriedly threw it over the other man in an attempt to hide the glowing aura. "ARE YEH FUCKIN' TOUCHED???" the large man angrily hissed at Malphas, holding the smaller man's shoulders in a furious vice-like grip, "YER BLESSIN' DON'T MATTER FER SHITE IF YER GLOWIN' ARSE ATTRACTS THA FUCKIN' GUARDIAN!"
Team Nippon @VitaVitaAR@PKMNB0Y@Crimson Paladin The bird continued to observe the three humans, making a few low pitched squawks as it tilted its head. It seemed curious, but also wary. Perhaps like someone that hadn't seen something before. Another bird from the flock outside flew in, taking up position on an overturned chair. It joined the other in its curious staring, squawking a bit louder at the three humans.
The staring and watching would only continue for a few more moments before the bird perched on the chair tilted its head back, a small fleshy sack that was barely noticeable under its beak filled with air. In the next, it opened its beak, a loud, shrill, screechinglike noise followed! Enough to temporarily deafen the humans even!
The first bird flapped its wings, making another shrill call as it lunged for Nobbu, which happened to be closest to it. Its sharp, silver beak aimed at her face! Thankfully it seemed the rest of the flock had spooked itself and had taken to the skies, likely to roost somewhere and leaving only these two birds to deal with.
Name: Nicholas Race: Homunculus A being created artificially with high-level alchemy. Functionally similar to a human. This one is well crafted and something only a master at their craft would be able to create. Physical Attributes: Similar to you Magic Attributes: Similar to you Weakness: N/A Abilities: Starlit Path: This being has a special connection to the stars which allows them a limited clairvoyant ability. May only be used at night under the stars. Additionally, gives him a sixth sense for danger. Special attributes: Traveler from another World This mans name is Nicholas. Like you, he is a traveler from another world chosen by the Goddess. His overall abilities are comparable to yours. He is nervous. Like yours, his body seems to be naturally conductive to Magical feats. Like yours, his body has been strengthened through some unknown means. He is in peak physical condition. No status abnormalities. He seeks home, wherever it may be.
Augusta and Isidore were soon joined by Nicholas. Like them, he too seemed to be chosen by the Goddess. It might have been prudent to get to know each other a bit more, after all, knowing ones allies and abilities would make easier to coordinate. Perhaps Isidore was right, though. The goddess did warn them about a Guardian of some sort, and it seemed to be quite close to them even if it had been heading away.
So deeper into this supposed prison they went, passing by the newcomer without much words other than that they were leaving.
Indeed, the assumption that this was a prison was growing more likely as soon as they exited. A long, darkly lit corridor made of the same black stone stretched both left and right. Cells similar to the one they had been in, though they seemed to lack the double room like theirs had, lined the wall. Most of the cells and been left open, their iron bars either just gone or seemingly torn out of place and scattered on the floor not far away. Some even disconcertingly had the bars ripped apart like something had broken out through brute force.
But whatever happened here happened ages ago, so there was likely no need to worry too much...right? At least it seemed their warden was no where around for the moment, yet as they moved into the corridor, they would hear something else.
A low, gurgling growl like noise, the shuffling of feet on stone. Metal dragging against stone.
Its source soon came into view - a pale, misshapen humanoid that looked more at home in a morgue than a prison. Its eyes were sunken into its head, if one could even call them eyes. Small black specs that seemed atrophied from lack of use. Its ears were little more than holes in its head, and its mouth looked like it could barely open. Its limbs were long, its bones seemingly ill fitting for its body causing them to protrude from the flesh at the joints. Its movements were either slow and careful, or quick and jittery. In its misshapen hand, its fingernails having grown into something resembling claws more than anything, was grasped a sword.
It didn't seem to have seen them yet, as it shuffled into the hallway. Was it even capable of seeing?
Classification: Wretched experiment A Wretched being made from quite horrific magical and technological experiments. Physical Attributes: Weaker than you Magic Attributes: N/A Weakness: Burns easily Sensitive to light Sensitive to loud noises Abilities: N/A Special attributes: Cursed by the Moon - This being earned the Moon's Ire. Cursed with madness. A wretched being. A failure of an experiment. Weak individually, but dangerous in a group. Has a tendency to lunge quickly towards opponents with surprisingly agility to try and incapacitate them.
A low rumbling could be felt somewhere nearby, but it didn't seem focused on them...
As the cat girl practiced, she'd find her body surprisingly responsive. Better than even it had in her old life. A punch there. A kick. She felt light, invigorated, like she could even match the best of the pros back home without thought. It was only light practice, and even if it felt right something still just didn't 'click' right. Her body was moving well, and it was responsive enough, but really, what could practice against air achieve?
Once she was done, she moved towards the weapons near the door. A cold gust of air caused the door to creak and whine impertinently as she approached. Spears, swords, battle axes, even a katana or two and some shields. A bow or two, as well. Rather than placed in any careful manner, it seemed whoever had owned them had just dropped the implements on the ground. No armor, however.
Odd.
Perhaps whoever dropped the weapons left wearing it.
...suddenly her ears picked up something - or rather, the lack of something. Where there had been the muted sound of stone grinding against stone far away, it had stopped.
Malphas' 'spell', if one could call it that worked well. It seemed as though the magical arts around him flowed naturally at his command. Through his fingertips, words, his entire being seemed to be naturally fit for this sort of thing. Yet, he could not control it perfectly as he himself was now. More energy than he could grasp kept flowing into the spell, creating brighter and brighter light.
Small incredibly bright orbs of light appeared, floating in the air around Malphas to begin with. They seemed harmless enough, shining brighter and brighter. Did they have some sort of secondary effect? They wouldn't get to find out. Before his light could spread, Donovan tossed his coat over Malphas, the other humanoid's spell getting dimmed by the distraction and leaving only the interior of the coat shining like someone had set off a flashbang inside of it and leaving Malphas temporarily blinded.
Leannah's ears picked up something else. The stone was moving again, but thankfully not towards them. She couldn't pinpoint its location or where it was heading, but a loud screeching noise that even Malphas and Donovan could hear was likely where it was heading.
Finding a good sized, sharp glass shard was easy enough. The leather the book made of was thin, and the lock itself was easy enough to cut around. The glass shard cut into the leather, its sharp, but rough edge slicing through the leather with relative ease. Despite the books age, it seemed in almost pristine condition looking at it. As the pixie did so, she'd feel something off about the book - a faint energy coming from the book itself. It wasn't very noticeable and she couldn't do anything with it, but it was definitely there.
Some sort of latent energy in the pages themselves?
Regardless, the leather around the lock was soon cut away.
Immediately upon the first page she was met with something she likely didn't quite understand. It was written in neat, cursive handwriting that she could surprisingly read with ease.
"The moon shall writhe and cry silver, the stars swallowed by an inescapable void. The blackened sky shall descend, and devour the ancient shell."
A bunch of gibberish? A prophecy or riddle? It was difficult to really say.
Yet, nothing else followed. She'd have to flip to nearly the end of the book before finding anything else that was written.
"Perhaps they learned from their last failure. They decided to lock me up in an outpost where they keep the rejects instead of in the heart of the research labs. It'll make no difference, I have the Tear of the Heavens from that old demon and with it, I can set things right. The Shadow Elves, the mountain folk, and that ancient death-bringer and her maids have agreed to the plan. Getting in their good graces have finally paid off after so, so, long. I just need to hurry to her before they finish and send this place to the-"
The words ended abruptly. Was the writer interrupted? On the next page there was what could only have been some sort of map.
A circle around what seemed to be a peninsula of some sort. Following the coast up, there was an 'X' on a small island in the far north, just off the northwest coast of some landmass. Another one was situated shortly to the south, just across the sea from the circled peninsula. A third was extremely far south, situated near a lake. What could this mean, exactly? A map? But she had no real way of judging where any of these places were, let alone how accurate it even was.
She'd become aware of the fact the cell seemed empty, now. The people inhabiting it having moved further into the complex.
So what would she do now? She got the distinct feeling that this journal of some sort might be hiding more secrets, but if it was it wasn't sharing them yet. The pages after the map were blank. Maybe she'd need to learn what exactly sort of enchantments were on this book before it'd share more.
"If you speak of the woman in the water, then yes," Nobunaga responded, glancing back towards the man who had been so recently ejected from one of the tubes, "We know little more then you do, at the moment, which is why-"
And to think, just as they were about to depart, the birds chose to make their move. The earsplitting screech from one of the creatures struck the petite black-haired girl in an instant, the world suddenly sounding far duller and a ringing in her ears, one crimson eye shut as she winced, hand to her head. That damnable sound!
It followed up by leaping from its perch and swooping towards Nobunaga almost immediately...
But even though the small girl was still reeling from the shriek, that did not mean her capability in combat had suddenly left her. Certainly, she was known more for her strategy then personal combat skills, but...
What else could be expected of someone of Oda Nobunaga's background?
Her katana left its sheath, and was swung upwards, directly into the path of the attacking fowl. Either it would be cut, or deterred. In all honesty, after such a piercing sound, Nobunaga hoped for the former.
Despite being roughly jerked around and promptly blinded, Malphas was quite pleased with the results of his spell. For one, being able to perform any sorts of magical feats is an amazing thing in its own right, but to have that much power? Malphas's tears would be of joy, if they weren't of irritation from his attempt at casting spells. However, rather than being blinded, he was more surprised at Donovan's reaction to his miracle.
At first, Malphas believed that his words were minced. It was only after Malphas was grabbed by Donovan's big, meaty hands that he realized that something else was an issue. This man was likely nothing more than a glorified meathead! Perhaps he didn't know what "obfuscation" meant. Neanderthals didn't know what a lot of things meant, after all. Still, to leave it off as a misunderstanding would likely be Malphas's best bet. Between the rude jerking, the blinding light, and the sudden loud screeching, however, Malphas's own survival instincts kicked into high gear. All he could recall in this moment was what mommy taught him if he was being grabbed by a large man.
A superpowered knee flew into Donovan's groin, launched with the full lethal force of the Goddess's blessings.
Following the possible destruction of Donovan's ability to procreate in this lifetime, Malphas used the momentum of his knee raising to launch the top of his head straight towards the taller man's chin in an attempt to be freed of his grasp. Quickly afterwards, Malphas took a few steps back, his hands up in some sort of exaggerated defensive stance an actual practitioner like Leannah would find sad. Being blinded didn't help either, although Malphas did his best to at least keep an ear out for any immediate danger coming towards him. At the same time, he still needed to save face.
"The only thing that will get us killed is your lack of faith, fool!" Malphas exclaimed, as he paid attention to the sound from the distance... Good, it was heading far off, and not to their location. Taking a deeper breath as he attempted to regain his bearings, Malphas stepped backward a few more times, hoping to make more distance between himself and the others as he continued to salvage whatever companionship may be left. "I suppose I should have explained myself more. I was using my blessing to hide our presence. And as a result, whatever was roaming these halls happened to pass by without paying heed to our little gathering. If anything, my ability would not have worked with that stunt you just pulled..."
As Malphas's vision slowly began to return, he started to dust himself off, still keeping an ear out for any retaliation. The more he thinks about it, however, the more he believes these two are lost causes. Perhaps it would be best to lead the 'Guardian' right to them and run while they're forced to deal with it. It's clear his magical powers are that strong, after all...
Whatever would happen in the future depends solely on their cooperation.
Given the situation that she had found herself in, Misaki could only give a curt nod of agreement in response towards the newcomer following Nobunaga's own suggestion. With most of her focus placed upon the odd birds that were staring them down, the foxgirl found it difficult to give any sort of thought to further conversation not related to them.
Before she could follow upon the warlord's earlier call to leave, though, the sudden blaring noise that came out of the bird's mouth brought Misaki to her knees, the deafening noise wholly unbearable to her. Covering her ears as her face contorted in pain, the foxgirl could only barely force herself to look at the source so as to not be left unaware, only for another cry to assault her head-on. From what little she had seen in the interim, Nobunaga was already moving to strike them down, but as she was now...
Well, it was hard enough just making sure that they weren't going for her prone self at the moment.
“We’ll be heading out. I’m Isidore, and the lady behind me is Augusta. Let’s acquaint ourselves properly once we meet outside.”
"Alright, let's get out of here." Nick still had that anxious feeling. He cannot wait to get out of this place.
They reunited outside of the cells and proceeded further into this strange, prison-like facility. A long, barely-lit corridor made of black stone stretched before them. Along the walls were cells similar to where they first awoke, all of them having iron bars in various states of disrepair. Some of them were still there, some were broken and littered all over the floor. One thing that Nick noticed though, this place was old. Probably not used anymore and probably no one in here, right?
Nick doubted that, considering he was still feeling anxious about this place. "Isidore and Augusta, right?" He started as they made their way into the corridor. "I'm Nick. Nicholas Gallagher. Just an average dude who got on the wrong train at the wrong time." He briefly introduced himself. "A pleasure to meet you."
Soon they heard a low gurgling in the corridor. Nick immediately hugged the wall in defensive reflex. He heard footsteps and metal being dragged across the stone floor. The source then came into view. It was an ugly thing: A pale, misshapen humanoid with sunken eyes and holes for ears. Its limbs were long and thin, it was a mystery how it supported the body. Nick could scarcely believe his eyes. It was a monster, and the completely horrifying kind. The worst part was that it had a weapon in its disfigured hand.
It appeared it has not noticed them yet and Nick hand signalled the other two to lower themselves to a crouch. "Looks like Mrs. Applebottom from high school." Nick could not help but whisper a joke to cope. "We should probably sneak past it. Buuut, we can also try to gang up on it. Although, we don't know what it can do with that sword."
"What do you guys think?" Nick looked to Augusta and Isidore. Looking at the gorgeous Augusta, he could not help but notice some things about her. "Are you an Elf?"
Her eyes had poured over the pages as she took in what was written, making note of the map and the three areas she had to visit. The moutainfolk were obviously within a mountainous region, scaling it may be difficult. She had a naught but her map when it came for travelling the regions. SHe may stumble upon a means but for now she'd put that option away, She didn't need to deal with potential frostbite on her new wings. Heading down south may be better, longer trek to be sure but 'Maids' made her think of a well made civilisation. The Death Bringer part didn't bother her in the slightest. She didn't fear the concept of death.
Using her glass shards, she'd make 4 vertical cuts into the book cover, in order to create loops for which she could carry the book almost like a backpack. She wanted to take this with her, It was obvious that it had more information she could study. But first she needed to get out of here. Fastening the book to her back, neatly tucked in a way so she could use her new wings she'd do a couple of hops to get used to the weight. Hop hop! jump!
The leap of faith! her wings batting heavily against the dead air that filled this place. She was the only one left in the room, ergo she had some leeway in case the book upon her back was.. Heavy. Heavy yes she'd fall a little too fast but manage to catch herself at the last moment with some exhaustive wing beats. As she'd ascend back. Arms outstretched in front of her to steady herself as she'd slowly fly out of the room, Moving in the opposite direction of the ones that had just left, Her goal would be to find an exit. Or perhaps.. She could see if there was that "Tears of Heaven" thing around. Still The Fae had a plan now. A driving force. She would figure out the mystery given to her by this tome, for better or for worse. This had raised the curiosity of herself.
Still. She would start thinking over the nature of the words given to her on the front.
"The moon shall writhe and cry silver, the stars swallowed by an inescapable void. The blackened sky shall descend, and devour the ancient shell."
The Phrase felt so unique in its structure. Perhaps it was a code phrase for something. Or a warning. A blackened sky was much too vague. But it seemed apocalyptic in nature. She'd also be thinking on the nature of the book. How could she get it to spill more of its secrets. What nature of magic enchanted the tome and why was it enchanted so.
Though for now the most pressing matter would be to get out into the open air. The staleness of this place reminded her too much of her own home and it sickened her to the core.
Augusta gave a slight cringe when Isidore mentioned it was a "nice prison". "If you like this sort of thing, I suppose." Looking at the same wall carving he did. As they moved along the corridors of what definitely seemed like a prison complex the more they explored, Augusta listened to Nick's self introduction. "Yes, you may call me Augusta. A pleasure." She half-heartedly mentioned as she kept her attention on her surroundings.
She wasn't too sure what she should think of her surroundings. It seemed like some sort of hellish game that they were thrown into. These cells were all opened as they passed by and that was putting it lightly. One looked like it was ripped open. And that was probably at a time when they weren't all rusted. Was it an empty prison? Devoid of life because of whatever it was that was making that shaking? Well, reality struck sooner than later it would likely seem. A growl of some sort combined with the sound of metal scraping on stone.
The elfen eared beauty got a good look at the creature. It's wretched appearance was more than enough to disgust her to her very core. Still... It would seem the gift she received from the goddess worked on creatures like this too. "I see... This thing is called a wretched experiment. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but it's weaker than us." She mentioned, taking a second to swallow her spit. "Burns easily, Sensitive to Light, Sensitive to Loud Noises.... Cursed by the Moon?" She questioned to her companions, looking slightly perplexed. "This being earned the Moon's Ire. Cursed with madness. Wretched being, failure.... Weak individually, dangerous in a group. It has a tendency to lunge quickly towards opponents with 'surprising agility' to try and incapacitate them."
If there was anything obvious about her expressions and glances. She seemed to think Isidore was a bit more trustworthy in this situation than Nick was. Perhaps it was the rather calm way he talked rather than the constant jokes. "Hmm. That sword is probably in bad shape, but it would probably be useful to have. My eye doesn't say anything about it's skill with the sword so your guess is good as mine, Nick." Augusta told him, "But... I think one of us should be able to overpower it rather easily as long as we're careful. Perhaps a sneak attack so we don't call a horde. I don't hear anything else but considering it says they're dangerous in numbers..."
She would leave the decision to Isidore. His 'boon' as he put it, was probably the best for this sort of thing anyhow. As for Nick's last question. "That's something I've been asking myself since I woke up. This body is more... Glamourous than mine was before all this." And she meant that in just about all the right places. "I suppose I have the ears for it now. Though..." She shook her head. She'd bring the homunculus thing up when they were safe. "Anyway, Isidore, do you want to take a crack at this thing?" She asked, pointing to some nearby broken cell bars. Hopefully there was a piece that was just long enough to be used as an improvised weapon.
A high pitched whine escaped Don's lips as Malphas' knee collided with his groin, only to be cut short by the following headbutt to his chin. The large man's legs gave way beneath him as he clutched his agonized nethers. Turned out that even a peak human body was still plenty vulnerable to the classic sacktap. Yet, despite how much it could've hurt-- the physical pain was significantly less than Donovan's instincts had anticipated... Seemed the goddess saw fit to gift his new body with 'balls of steel' as it were.
To say Don was appreciative of the Moon Goddess' divine foresight would be an understatement.
After several long, painful moments of writhing, Donovan rose shakily to his feet. "Sorreh bout that lad, aye reacted on instict." he began to speak hoarsely, "I understand that yer power runs off faith... But yah gotta understand boyo-- blessed er not, that kinda faith ain't easy tah give." Wiping beads of sweat from the crest of his brow, Don made a slow hobble towards the arrangement of weapons near the door as he continued speaking to Malphas. "I understood yah just fine th' first time. Just panicked when ya started to glow like a damn lighthouse. Even if I wanted tah, aye don't think aye coulda truleh believed in yer miracle." Stooping low, Donovan rifled through the available weapons, before producing a dark blue bow. "Call meh old fashioned if yah like--" he continued, turning back toward the very man that nutshot him less than a minute prior. "But as aye see et, we're still just men, Malphas. Nuthin' more. Nuthin less..." With calm strides, Donovan approached the other man, and held out the bow. "Men aren't just given faith. Can't just take it neither..."
Donovan leveled a firm gaze at Malphas.
"Yer gunna hafta earn it lad. Just like tha rest of us."
One. Two. Three. Repeat. With each move the catgirl felt her body adjusting in this period of brief practice, and she was acclimated enough and physically responsive enough it would be no problem. But just like in life she knew one thing for certain: Without a fleshy targets to really practice on it was only practicing her blows against the empty air in the end. Regardless, she hoped that such a thing would not have to happen right now if she could help it. Practice like that could come later, right now the main issue was getting ready and out of here alive.
While the gust of cold wind wasn't much to ponder, as she remained very much comfortable despite the state of her clothing, she couldn't help but notice the gear just dropped about as it was. Had some idiot arrived here a long time ago, and tried to loot the place for all it was worth? Eh, that was then and this was now. She grabbed up a warhammer and a shield, as well as a fitting spear for herself, before turning to walk back over to where the two men were. On the bright side, aside from that horrible screeching right out of a horror game it was clear that the grinding stone noise was moving away from them...probably was moving towards the screeching noise, frankly.
Donovan had at least acted to try to stop the light show about them, but at the same time that had gotten the seemingly well-grounded man a blow where the sun did not shine. She winced at the sight, though at least whatever the crazy man had tried to do seemed to work for a moment. Not that it seemed to stay 'in control', but that at best was a guess for her.
"...Even with my training from before, Donovan, I have to admit you took that better than I would have out of reflex."
Breathe. In and out. Whew.
She was most definitely frustrated with Malphas, but had she been attacked in retaliation like such she had been trained to react to such in a different manner than Donovan had reacted. Perhaps it was good she hadn't been the one to stop the light show of the effeminate third party member, as it were. But the two men's own words seemed to virtually confirm her thoughts in regards to deciphering Malphas' 'gift'.
"...I'll agree with that sentiment, Donovan," the catgirl said with a small sigh, walking closer to the two men before continuing, "Malphas, if you want faith then you have to earn it by proving it. Forcing it doesn't work. Besides, we all probably have the potential for magic in this new life as well...probably need to be careful until we get a better grasp."
Leannah shuffled the weapons in her grasp, leaning the shaft of the spear (a weapon among many perfect for her skillset) on the crook of one shoulder and resting the butt of it on the floor as she put the warhammer on the shield and extended it out towards Donovan.
"Anywho, speaking of weapons here's a couple for you. If that thing is moving away, though, we need to take advantage of that to get moving and book it as quietly as we can."
The others had almost no time to explain before a strange looking bird flew into the room. It had an almost metallic-looking beak and, as Novak watched it, some sort of inflatable growth on its throat. Before he could make any further observations, the bird let loose a horrific screech. Novak reflexively covered his ears, trying to lessen the awful noise. It haven't been two minutes since he had awakened and they were already in danger.
Just as the bird's vocal assault ended, Novak was temporarily deafened (at least he hoped it was temporary). Any hope of even a momentary reprieve was dashed when another bird flew into the room, this one heading straight for one of the others. Deafened, confused, and without any sort of weapon, Novak's first impulse was to dive behind the table and take cover. With his ears still ringing from the screech, he couldn't hear anything going on, but it had to be better than standing out in the open.
No way out except the way they came in, he assessed, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, any residual grogginess having been replaced by the rush of adrenaline. Can't flee from them. Can't protect from that screech. We're cornered. It's them or us, he concluded, his fight-or-flight response settling on what seemed to be their only choice. With one hand he grabbed an old sword lying next to him, and with the other he grabbed a chair by the leg. He was surprised at how light the chair felt as he lifted it- it seemed the goddess was serious about their new bodies being peak at peak human ability. He didn't know anything about using the sword, so for the time being he would have to settle for inelegantly swinging and hope that it'd suffice.
It's now or never, Novak assured himself as he emerged from his hiding spot and hurled the chair at the first bird with all his might.
An average dude? The colloquialism caught him off-guard for a moment there, before a smile flickered over Isidore’s expression. The young ones in his employ rarely had the gumption of acting so casual before him, not unless they were well into their drinks, and those who did lost it after the first month or two. He had run a tight ship then. Perhaps he could loosen up. Just a little bit.
“A pleasure as well...” Isidore’s mouth twitched. “…dude.”
No, he may be in a body stronger and faster than he had ever been in his youth, but he certainly couldn’t act as such. The instance of mirth left him, and a cold, exacting serenity settled into his veins once more as they continued their way through the prison. Cells fell behind, iron bars ruptured or wholly missing, indications of individuals more monstrous than the ones that fell into step behind him. Isidore let his senses out, feeling with a nostalgic clarity the tingling of his skin, the prickling of his thumb. His intuition told him to stop moments before the sounds did, and the scraping of a blade against the ground warned his companions to do the same.
It was a monster, in the truest sense, inhuman and horrible, twisted beyond recognition, mutated beyond any of evolution’s more interesting mechanisms. Distended bones pushed out of skin, eyes shrivelled in sockets that went deep, deeper. The work of a sadist of a sculptor, discarded to rot within these blasted corridors. The raven-haired man felt his heartbeat pick up, a thrum of chemical energy trickling into his limbs.
He smiled, all teeth and restrained violence.
Augusta’s words trickled useful information into the ears of the ignorant, marking the creature as the worst sort of predator: an ambusher who used bursts of speed with no talent for stealth, a pack animal who could not survive alone yet wandered unaccompanied by others of its craven kind. A pathetic, cursed being, for whom death was more blessing than affliction.
“The world, it appears, seems to see it fit to balance your beauty with creatures of immense crudeness, Augusta. Such affront, I believe, should not be stood for.” As he spoke, Isidore wrapped one length of chain-and-shackle around his left arm, covering his forearm in coiled links. He hefted the other chain by the loose end, feeling the comforting weight of the cuffs on the other. The man turned to the others, eyes lightless in the dark corridors. “I ask you avert your eyes, if tolerance for base violence was not something you've built in your past life.”
He would certainly take a crack at it.
In his right hand, Isidore began to spin the chain, allowing centrifugal force to accelerate it as it whipped through the air in a perfect circle. Stepping out into the hallway, he regarded the creature in its entirety, watching as it turned to face him. A sword was long. His chains weren’t so long. The creature wielded that blade in its right hand; Isidore’s left arm, wrapped in chain, faced it. A fight was settled before the movements were made, in the gaps between frenzied exchanges. He had been a spitfire in his youth, vicious and relentless.
Isidore envisioned it.
It would lunge, trusting the length of its arm and sword versus a swirling chain.
He would throw it instead, release the chain that had built up so much dizzying force.
It would land. Disrupt. Give him the opportunity he needed to close in.
Swing his armored left against the extended blade, knock it away. Disarm. Stomp on the outer side of the knee. Unbalance. Reach with his right to grab the back of the skull and slam the monster into the ground. Debilitate. Stomp on its skull until it turned to paste until his heel.
Nobunaga reacted swiftly, the katana she had picked up from the ground feeling near perfect in her grip. The blade was swung with the precision and skill honed over a lifetime of battle and war. The bird made a maneuver with its beak, angling its head downwards. Was it trying to catch Nobu's blade on its beak? Regardless, the blade struck true, a loud clanking noise as the bird's beak met the blade at lethal speeds.
The bird gave a muffled squawk, the force of the blow sending it flying back and plummeting to the floor. The fowl gave a pitiful, hoarse squawk as it attempted to get itself airborne, but it was far too injured. A large gash had been cleaved into it from the bottom of its neck to its groin and was already quickly bleeding out. Judging from its now cracked beak, It had indeed, attempted to block the Katana with it, but if that was its natural defense mechanism, it simply didn't seem strong enough to stand up to a blade.
Seconds later it'd simply fall limp, its blood staining the floor.
Novak proved similarly lucky. Arming himself with a sword and chair, he attacked the second bird.
Ancient Sword: This appears to be a simple arming sword. Well crafted, but obviously aged beyond any recognizable features. The grip on its hilt seems to have once been dyed blue, with the pommel having been engraved with a decorative crest of some sort. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
The chair flew with surprising precision, the bird not having much time to react as the chair slammed into it. It squawked in pain as it was knocked from its perch and into a wall, the fragile chair breaking into a few pieces. It tried to scramble to its feet, momentarily stunned and giving someone a good chance to easily finish it.
And here, they would be likely patting themselves on the back for slaying the monstrous fowl - only to quickly realize their victory may be short lived. The ground shook, like something heavy had been dropped on it. Again it did so at regular intervals, far too regular to be anything natural, and the thoughts of a 'guardian' the goddess mention might have surfaced. Did the cry of that bird attract it? It wasn't upon them yet, but they may need to deal with this bird unless they wanted to be discovered.
The former mobster spun the chain in his right hand. The creature noticed him, a gurgling, sick-sounding growl escaping its withered vocal cords. In the next instant, it lunged, rather clumsily stabbing forwards with its sword on unsteady feet. Isidore's weapon flew forwards, striking the creature in its jaw and stopping it in its tracks as it was knocked backwards, the tip of the blade just barely grazing Isidore's cheek.
Its grip on the blade was surprisingly tight. Almost like its muscles had been locked into place around its grip. Yet, it didn't matter. Even if he couldn't disarm it, the creature could not withstand Isidore's assault.
His boot met the creatures knee in swift succession as he knocked the blade away, the sound of snapping bone as the abomination crumpled to the floor, helped by Isidore's hand forcefully slamming its face into the stone floor.
His boot soon followed, relentlessly stomping on it until the thing was well and truly dead with a final gurgle.
Perhaps he had done the poor thing a favor.
Should someone choose too - Item received
Ancient Sword: This appears to be a simple arming sword. Well crafted, but obviously aged beyond any recognizable features. The grip on its hilt seems to have once been dyed blue, with the pommel having been engraved with a decorative crest of some sort. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
Now that they had a moment to themselves, they could see up ahead they hallway they were in seemed to split off into several directions. At the end, an archway leading them out of this musty prison. Another hallway split off to their left, leading deeper into this complex.
As well, from how things sounded, more of those creatures were in cells up ahead. Perhaps they should simply leave and not poke the hornets nest, so to speak.
As Donovan and Malphas had a little disagreement, Leannah instead chose to pick through the scattered weapons. Thankfully nothing seemed to jump her as she did so - the Goddess did say this place was relatively safe, after all, so hopefully aside from the guardian nothing was going to be too much of a problem to them. Once she settled on a weapon for herself and something for donovan, she'd head back. Thankfully the brief scuffle didn't seem to attract any unwanted attention.
If Malphas accepted the bow - Item Received: Ancient Bow
Ancient Bow A Recurve bow of surprisingly fine make appearing to have been made out of some unknown wood. It seems to have once been painted dark blue in color, and it seems to have once had decorative embellishments on it that have faded and eroded with time. Its string has surprisingly survived the test of time extremely well, and shows no wear or tear. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be. If you find a way to make arrows, it could be a decent weapon.
If Donovan accepted the shield and warhammer - Item Received: Ancient Shield & War hammer
Ancient Shield - This ancient object exudes a certain feeling of knighthood and honor. Made primarily of metal and leather, you recognize it as a 'Heater Shield' as the closest analogue you are familiar with. It can easily be used for defense whilst still maintaining some form of mobility. It seemed to once have a coat of arms on it, but aside from its blue coloration its almost impossible to make out what it actually was. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
Ancient War-Hammer Roughly two feet in length, not the comically heavy looking kind in some fantasy media from your time. Rather simple in construction, its essentially a metal bar with a large elongated head on one end and a flat surface perfect for smashing armor with a pick on the opposite end for more direct strikes. Works best on armored opponents for piercing or beating into submission. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
As for Leannah - Item received: Ancient Spear
Ancient Spear A spear of fine make, if somewhat mundane looking. Its shaft is made of wood, its finishing having eroded away and leaving the wood beneath visible. It is surprisingly heavy in her hands despite her strength, but perfectly balanced. The tip is fairly long, at least a foot in length of sharpened metal. A small groove runs alongside the bottom of the blade towards the tip. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
Now that they had armed themselves, what would they do? They still had a fourth party on the third floor.
A well kept small journal barely the size of a normal human hand. Easily hidden and concealed, within its first page is a cryptic message
"The moon shall writhe and cry silver, the stars swallowed by an inescapable void. The blackened sky shall descend, and devour the ancient shell."
Despite its age, its well preserved. Its leather is still supple and flexible, the pages crisp and still have that new book smell. As you hold it in your hands, you can feel faint energy from every page within, as though this was some sort of tome of secret magic. Perhaps it is, but even if it was you could not tell what it was.
Or maybe its just a normal journal you could write in yourself.
The pixies wings strained under the weight of the book, but ultimately she was able to carry it. Thankfully it was a lightweight journal of some sort, at least seemingly. So along she went, flying out of the cell and into the hallway, careful to remain unseen by the others she had joined with. From the look of things, they seemed perfectly friendly...but since when had that ever helped Alice?
She just better hope the gift the goddess gave her made those things not hostile to her.
Down the corridor she moved. She was faintly aware of more noises and if she stopped to look in some cells, she would notice several more of those twisted creatures within. They seemed passive for the most part. The ones that weren't still shackled to the wall, simply huddled in corners of the cells, or were wandering aimlessly in whatever room they seemed to be in. In whatever case, she could pass them without issue, it seemed.
Eventually the corridor would end, a half destroyed doorway the only thing greeting her at the end. A large metal door with large iron bars and locks had been twisted on the hinges, the door laying almost in a crumpled heap yet still connected to the hinges. The wall itself it was connected too however, seemed to have been damaged - the only sign of wear and tear even noticeable on the smooth black stone the place was made of. It was difficult to tell what had done it, the best she could tell whatever happened, happened from the other side of this room.
The room itself was fairly small and circular in construction, the walls arcing upwards into a dome shaped ceiling. Taking a brief look around the room might have given her pause. In the center of the room was a large slab of rectangular stone raised roughly three feet from the ground. At its base, smooth grooves and more of those flowing carvings were etched into the stone, rising from its base to the edge of top layer. Worn leathers straps were scattered on the floor around it, with only a few still remaining attached.
The rest of the room was filled with cabinets, tables, and desks upon which set many glass containers. Most were filled with seemingly unknown liquids, some having been knocked over and spilled their contents. As she entered the room properly, her nose would involuntarily scrunch in discomfort. The room smelled an unpleasant mix of rancid and chemicals. The only source of light and ventilation was a few windows about halfway up, smaller than any human could get through but just the right size for a pixie to escape through - likely her only choice of exit.
There didn't seem to be anything of too much importance here, but maybe a brief look around the room might reveal something of note.
Narkissa let out a gasp, sputtering foreign fluid as she was unceremoniously ejected from the strange pod. Temporarily blinded, she thought it was quite strange that she was choking on water. Sure, the submersible had sprung a leak, but after hitting the bottom of the sea floor, it subsequently rolled off the coastal shelf and into the abyss of the deep Atlantic. By all rights, there shouldn’t be a chance to drown.
But despite being drenched, water really wasn’t entering her lungs. In fact, she was coughing it out, and a moment later, she thought to clear her eyes and blink. Expecting darkness, she was surprised to find herself in an unknown location. It was far from the watery coffin that she had expected… but then she recalled a fleeting dream, what she thought were hallucinations in the milliseconds before her instant death.
What that actually… real? Did she actually speak to a god? Rubbing her eyes, she hastily took in her surroundings. She was in sparse, ancient room. Aside from the strange, test tube-like pod that was still slowly emptying out into the room, there was what appeared to be remnants of furniture scattered about, and a few intact shelves along the walls. More curiously, they still seemed to hold some of their contents.
Looking down at herself, she was surprised to find that she was not wearing the comfortable oversized t-shirt and jeans for her underwater trip, but something else entirely. Although they were soaked, there was no denying that the clothes she now wore would be better described as ‘dapper.’ A dark vest with pockets covered the simple white button shirt she was wearing, and a pleated skirt that matched her vest clung to her lower thighs. The uncomfortable wet feeling made her want to strip and dry off, but in want of more information, she held off.
If this was still part of a hallucinatory dream, it felt very realistic.
She wracked her memories for whatever she remembered of her interaction with the goddess. If everything she remembered was true, then she really had died in that tiny pressure can. Then… was she in another world? Looking at the pod behind her, she felt more like the was the unwilling participant in some strange, unethical, illegal experiment. As she checked her own body, she was beginning to feel it really was like that.
While she had been in her late thirties and considered herself pretty fit for her age, as she began to stretch out her cramped body, there was no denying the newfound spryness in her body, nor the strange white color of her hair in the corners of her eyes. If she really was given a new body, then why was her hair already white? Even so, her hair was soft and lush to the touch, nothing like the hard, scraggly strands of old age.
No matter what she thought, the evidence really pointed to divine intervention. There had been no saving her down in the depth, and her current circumstances were strange at best. To drive the nail into the coffin on the matter, she had found her good-luck charm in her new vest’s pockets –a golden pocket watch and a family heirloom from two centuries past. The body was warped and the face of the timepiece was shattered from the pressure of external forces, frozen at 10:51, indisputably the moment she had met her end.
It might have been destroyed, but apparently it was enough of a charm to bring the intervention of a god in her favor. Recalling the blessing bestowed upon her, she let out a chuckle to herself.
It was destiny, wasn’t it? With what she knew and what she could do, it was fated for her to restore the British Empire in a broken world.
In the meantime, though, there were some more pressing concerns. For example, the ancient books on the bookshelves, just waiting to be inspected by an archaeologist like her, but probably more importantly, the voices she could hear calling out to her from below. There was no way to get downstairs though, at least, not without a faith-testing leap, and in fact, if she was hearing right, it sounded almost like there was a scuffle downstairs. She peeked her head out from above, and did so in time to witness a man being assaulted by another person.
She had been tempted to call out to see why other individuals might be in this forsaken place, but thought better of it and ducked back down. She was probably better served checking out those books on the wall, and so she did.
Well...it would be up to Malphas to accept the bow or not perhaps. Irregardless of if the man accepted the bow and Donovan's wisdom or not, or at least the other man's seeming attempt to make peace in her eyes, her attention returned to the higher floor above the broken stairs. She knew she'd heard the thunk of another person up there, though the lack of any return call after she'd shouted up there before was concerning. Frowning, the catgirl walked over towards the back of the second floor 'shelf' and put a hand to her mouth to try to call up there again.
Well, shout just loud enough for whomever was up there to hear. Wouldn't take much, and she really didn't want to draw attention to them. Time was wasting as it was.
"Hey, you up there! If you're alive, let us know so we can send someone to come help you down! It won't be safe here for long, and we need to get moving while the Guardian is moving away from our location! Unless you wanna stay stuck up there and eventually get caught if anything else less-than-friendly might be wandering around here!"
Leannah sighed after speaking, putting her hands (including the one holding her spear) on her hips and lightly shaking her head. Maybe they'd been spooked by them or something? She had no idea regardless. She wasn't sure if Donovan was the type to leave such a person behind if they refused to cooperate, but based on his patience and interactions with Malphas so far she felt she at least had some vague-ish idea somewhat. Maybe. Not much to go on right now, since they'd all just woken up and all of this.
She just didn't want them all to die if they kept getting stalled like this, especially if Mr. or Ms. Third Shelf turned out to be stubborn...hopefully they weren't like that though. Though this in mind, she walked back over to the other two men to speak to them once more.
"Er, not to be an ass here but we have one last thing to solve before we get moving. We've killed enough time as it is.
Donovan, can you get back to helping us get whoever is on that third floor down? Just tell me if i need to do anything as well. We need to get them fast if we're getting out of here, not sure if whatever drew attention out there will keep that attention for much longer. We'll lose our advantage if we dawdle too long."
Politeness was giving way to survival right now, as they really needed to get moving as soon as possible. It was a matter of time, and for all she knew that time was close to running out.
The ringing in her ears very slowly fading, Nobunaga didn't spare any further attention to the bird she had already crippled and left to bleed out. Taking notice of the other fowl's stunned state, the petite girl didn't waste a single moment in sprinting towards the creature and swinging her katana down in a flash of steel. It parted flesh and bone cleanly, and left the bird's head sailing through the air away from its twitching body.
She straightened, and flicked the blood from her sword before sheathing it cleanly. Her hearing was beginning to return in full.
"... A shame there isn't a cooking fire, at least these wretched fowl could have served a purpose in death," she commented, glancing towards the others...
... Ah... Misaki... it was no small wonder she had taken that piercing shriek more poorly then anyone else. She had the ears of a fox, after all. Given the kitsune's nature as her chief source of information, and someone who originated from her homeland...
The petite girl approached. The thuds from beyond their room already indicated that they should not linger any longer then they had already.
She placed a hand on the other girl's shoulder, and then offered one to her. She could not be sure if Misaki's hearing had returned, but her wordless actions had to be enough to understand.
She had no intention of leaving behind her clearest source of information, but they had to move quickly.
Despite Isidore's warning, Augusta watched the sight. It was a modern world they use to live in. She was not stranger to the odd video of someone being shot. Admittedly though, a melee kill such as the young man performed was a slight bit more gruesome. Still. It felt like movie more than real life. Yes, that thing, the poor wretch, was definitely real to her senses. It wasn't some CG monster in a movie. It looked and sounded real. When it seemed Isidore had the situation under control, she moved from her spot behind cover. She closed distance as Isidore delivered the final strike to the monster. "Good work." Augusta praised, looking to the sword in the creature's hand. Yes. They should take that with them.
If Isidore performed the kill, then she should at least remove the weapon from the creature's hand. She knelt down, rubbing the odd but beautiful dress, that she just noticed she wore, against the floor. She hesitated touching the creature for a second but bite her lip and, perhaps easier than expected, released the weapon from it's grasp. When she saw that they were in peak physical condition, she wasn't expecting how much easier of a time she had prying the creature's fingers from it's weapon than she would in her prior life. Pushing that discomforting thought and any others to the back of her head for now, she took the weapon and stood. She gave it a practice swing as if she was a profession in swordplay. It seemed lighter than expected. That goddess was something else. "Right then, gentlemen, shall we make our way out and to somewhere safe?" There was an obvious way out from where they were. "Of course, we could always scout the rest of this place out but... We could always just come back. This place gives me the creeps but... Well, Isidore, Nick? What do you two think? Oh, and do either of you want to use this?"
It's not that she was leaving the heavy thinking to Nick and Isidore but Isidore was the one leading them physically and really, it didn't hurt to get everyone's opinions. Of course, she wouldn't be adverse to leaving but there was some merit in trying to find an actual weapon for everyone. "I wouldn't mind using this but if either of you have actual skill with this weapon, that would be best." Despite appearances, she wasn't just some dainty princess. It was survival now. She came back after being stabbed to death. There was no way in hell she was going to sit down and die.
Alice Sicilly : Seeking Descent
