@Space Communist
Hey, now, I will have you know that if Nod hates Zaphesto's suit and hat, it's only out of sheer jealousy!
Hey, now, I will have you know that if Nod hates Zaphesto's suit and hat, it's only out of sheer jealousy!
Cayce Member
coolhunter
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Welp, I requested that my character be moved directly into the reserves, but good luck to everyone else. Had a ton of fun reading the CS's.
This many characters in one location, ranging in size from humanoid to titanic, yeah, there's gonna be a lot of confusion, which is why I think a lot of characters are trying to get as far away from the prison as quickly as possible.
Go nuts. It can't possibly get more confusing than it already is.
I think this is as literal an interpretation of "the inmates are running the asylum" as you can get.
Nod was not a creature given to irony. Had he been, he would have appreciated the fact that, for one who needed no help fighting his battles, there was no dearth of people willing to pledge themselves to him. Indeed, for most mortals, the choice between serving the demigod warrior or getting in his way was often no choice at all. So had it been for his people, the Golgoth, at the dawn of time, and so it was now, deep within the Republic. Once he ascended the Spire and breached the lower level of the prison fortress that sat atop the Pit, it was simplicity itself to intimidate more than a few of the guards into forswearing their oaths and bend their knees to him. They were common infantrymen, after all, not the honored Pit Guard. They held no fanatical loyalty to Eyra or the Etruscan Republic. They only wished to live, and at the moment, their best chance of that was in the service of the Great Beast.
The fortress prison was in chaos. Loyal guardsmen found themselves locked in sudden and brutal battle against Nod's new soldiers, their ranks bolstered by the freed prisoners. Most of these convicts were but rabble: cutthroats and thieves, bandits and blasphemers. Few fighters among them, but their numbers were vast, and their anger a force to be harnessed. The grand melee swelled throughout the keep, and it would only be a matter of time before the outer gates were thrown asunder, and the Children's escape completed.
Nod stalked through the corridors of the prison, a great tapestry draped across his enormous shoulders like a mantle. It was emblazoned with the colors of Etruscia, and it gave Nod pleasure to reduce the symbol of Eyra's dominion into something with which to wipe his arse. Already the wounds he had sustained in the fight against the Pit Guard were stitching themselves shut, though at a much slower rate than he would have liked.
He growled. Much of his power was gone from him, spread across the vast multitudes of the little squeaking apes that fell like wheat before him. How could the Seer have allowed such ruin to come to the Children? And for what? To protect these weaklings? These frail and rather tasteless mortals, whose brief lives were the very definition of pointlessness and impermanence?
"MadNeSS."
And his brethren. It disgusted him to consider himself akin to them. Even as he clawed his way to the surface, even as he turned the prison fortress upside down, he could still feel them down in the Pit, waiting, talking, planning. His hands shook with rage at their impotence, their uncertainty. Even now, after a thousand years of betrayal and imprisonment, they would rather wring their hands and cow their heads and wait for someone else to make the first move. The cowards. He would have torn into them, all of them, then and there, but there was nothing to be gained. They would only have joined together against him, and even he could not stand against all of his brethren. He would have been destroyed, and his vengeance on Eyra would be delayed by a lengthy reincarnation.
Let them remain where they were, chained by nothing but their own dithering lack of conviction. It only gave him the time he needed to claim this prison for himself. Once the last of Eyra's loyalists had been gutted and burned, the castle would make a mighty redoubt from which to marshal his strength, a stronghold that would form the seat of his new empire on earth.
They took away his power. He would take it back, if he had to personally tear every scrap of its essence from the broken body of every man, woman, and mewling child in existence.
The fortress prison was in chaos. Loyal guardsmen found themselves locked in sudden and brutal battle against Nod's new soldiers, their ranks bolstered by the freed prisoners. Most of these convicts were but rabble: cutthroats and thieves, bandits and blasphemers. Few fighters among them, but their numbers were vast, and their anger a force to be harnessed. The grand melee swelled throughout the keep, and it would only be a matter of time before the outer gates were thrown asunder, and the Children's escape completed.
Nod stalked through the corridors of the prison, a great tapestry draped across his enormous shoulders like a mantle. It was emblazoned with the colors of Etruscia, and it gave Nod pleasure to reduce the symbol of Eyra's dominion into something with which to wipe his arse. Already the wounds he had sustained in the fight against the Pit Guard were stitching themselves shut, though at a much slower rate than he would have liked.
He growled. Much of his power was gone from him, spread across the vast multitudes of the little squeaking apes that fell like wheat before him. How could the Seer have allowed such ruin to come to the Children? And for what? To protect these weaklings? These frail and rather tasteless mortals, whose brief lives were the very definition of pointlessness and impermanence?
"MadNeSS."
And his brethren. It disgusted him to consider himself akin to them. Even as he clawed his way to the surface, even as he turned the prison fortress upside down, he could still feel them down in the Pit, waiting, talking, planning. His hands shook with rage at their impotence, their uncertainty. Even now, after a thousand years of betrayal and imprisonment, they would rather wring their hands and cow their heads and wait for someone else to make the first move. The cowards. He would have torn into them, all of them, then and there, but there was nothing to be gained. They would only have joined together against him, and even he could not stand against all of his brethren. He would have been destroyed, and his vengeance on Eyra would be delayed by a lengthy reincarnation.
Let them remain where they were, chained by nothing but their own dithering lack of conviction. It only gave him the time he needed to claim this prison for himself. Once the last of Eyra's loyalists had been gutted and burned, the castle would make a mighty redoubt from which to marshal his strength, a stronghold that would form the seat of his new empire on earth.
They took away his power. He would take it back, if he had to personally tear every scrap of its essence from the broken body of every man, woman, and mewling child in existence.
<Snipped quote by Cayce>
I get the impression that even more Guards are likely to show up in short order, and aren't they as hostile to the angels as they are to the demons? They would have to get through the hall where the demons are kept/breaking free before they could get to the Chamber of the Gods, @dragonmancer
I think dragonmancer's character is talking to the guards who were already in the Chamber. There were a couple stationed there, standing watch. The guards I'm, uh, "interacting with" came from the Spire-side of the Pit, the opposite way. I don't know if they would necessarily be hostile to the angels, since it's not their job to keep them in, only other mortals out.
So just to clarify: each of the 'Demons' was sealed in an individual, customized prison built solely for them? And is the Pit a physical place, or a metal physical place. Because if its the former....
A physical place. A single location. The "angels" are kept in a circular chamber in the far end of the Pit. In front of the chamber is a large hall, lined with large cells in which the demons are kept separated. The Pit is located beneath a large prison, housing the worst criminals. A large spiral staircase separates the Pit from the prison and the outside world. At least, that's what I'm able to make out.
So, yeah, it's gonna be a party.
@Cayce my bad, thought he was factioned with angels, I had some things mixed up so ill fix that post immediately.
Not really factioned with anyone, but because he didn't side with the angels he was imprisoned with the demons.
Cursed profiling. It's getting so a ten-foot tall lion can't even eat an entire village without being branded a demon anymore.
@dragonmancer
Would you even be able to see Nod? I had thought the layout of the pit separated the demons from the angels. I think the angels are in the Chamber of the Gods, while the demons were kept in cells in the hall outside.
Would you even be able to see Nod? I had thought the layout of the pit separated the demons from the angels. I think the angels are in the Chamber of the Gods, while the demons were kept in cells in the hall outside.
Steel crashed into stone like lovers reunited after a long war, a thick cloud of dust rising upwards in an unseen ballet. The sound carried throughout the lightless tunnels, so alien in this place of impenetrable silence. Alarmed, several of the hallowed Pit Guard rushed towards the source, weapons drawn. Half a dozen of them congregated in the hallway beyond the Chamber of the Gods, and they raised their torches to illuminate the darkness.
Like vermin, the dark retreated at the advance of the flames, revealing a twisted mound lying on the stone floor in front of one of the alcoves. It was not until the Guard were a few feet from the object did they identify it for what it was: a cell door, the heavy steel warped and crumpled like paper.
It was but a moment before one of them spoke, but a moment that seemingly stretched into infinity, in which entire civilizations could rise and fall.
"That," said the first Guard to recover from his shock, "is really not good."
"Eyra's eye," said another. "What do we do? We were never told something like this could happen."
"What happened?" said the youngest of them, waving his torch wildly as he backed away from the gate. "What did this? What did this?"
"HelLO."
The voice was glass ground into gravel, the voice of something that had not spoken in a very long time, and directly behind the young Pit Guard. He spun around, and in his last few moments dearly wished he had not. It was his light that revealed the hulking leonine horror: hungry, furious, and free.
The bestial giant, standing taller than their longest spears, lashed out with a speed that belied its thousand-year imprisonment, and the young Guard flew through the chill air, rent and ruined, the life struck from his body, and disappeared into the darkness of the now empty cell. His comrades, doused in his blood, stared at the beast as if frozen. But they were not frozen. Mortal men though they were, they were also the Pit Guard, Eyra's elite, and though all of them felt fear, none of them would allow that fear to fell them. Shock turned to grim determination. Their white-knuckled hands gripped the hafts of their spears and swords tightly. It would be death and death alone that would pry their weapons from their grasp.
"PIT GUARD," they cried, charging the demon. "In Eyra's name! Attack! ATTACK!"
The beast welcomed their charge, relished at the bite of their steel against his flesh. It had been so long. So long. The pain sang to him. He had not been dead these long and lonely years, but neither had he been alive until this moment. He grinned as a sword sank into his naked thigh. These were strong warriors, and he was weaker now than he had ever been, but still he was a Child of Aton. He hungered, and that hunger would not be denied.
"YEs. ThaT's IT. DO yoUR duTy," the beast spoke, even as his claws cleaved one of the warriors in half. He could taste his own blood in his mouth. A familiar lightness creeped into his brain. He felt his senses sharpen, expand. His heart beat with a maddened, rabid joy. This was what he was put on this earth to do.
"TRy to FIGHT ME. Try tO HURT ME."
The beast's massive paw gripped one of the soldiers by his legs and swung him about like a club, laying two of the poor bastard's fellows out before slamming him heavily against the unyielding stone wall. His body burst in his armor like overripe fruit. With a flick of his powerful, sinuous tail, the beast swept the last Guard's legs out from beneath him. He fell on his back, his spear flying from his hand. The man's training took over as he bravely moved to draw his sword from its scabbard, but the monster was on him in an instant, massive jaws closing around his arm, crimson-stained fangs tearing it off the shoulder. The man's scream echoed throughout the Pit.
"TRy aLl yOU LIke," said the lion, its muzzle inches from the man's face, its breath washing over him in a cloud of hatred. "I hAve LOSt coUNt of hoW ManY sWorDS have BROKen aGaiNSt my hIDE. How MANY spEARS have sPlinterED betwEEN my TEEth. CaLL for moRe meN. CalL for ALL of thEm. It won'T MATTER. I am NOD, BRiNGER of WAR to this enTIre fEstEring PLAnEt, and I will sWalloW yoUr feTid GodmoTheR's HEART, rIght aFTER I AM DONE sWalLowIng YOURS."
Like vermin, the dark retreated at the advance of the flames, revealing a twisted mound lying on the stone floor in front of one of the alcoves. It was not until the Guard were a few feet from the object did they identify it for what it was: a cell door, the heavy steel warped and crumpled like paper.
It was but a moment before one of them spoke, but a moment that seemingly stretched into infinity, in which entire civilizations could rise and fall.
"That," said the first Guard to recover from his shock, "is really not good."
"Eyra's eye," said another. "What do we do? We were never told something like this could happen."
"What happened?" said the youngest of them, waving his torch wildly as he backed away from the gate. "What did this? What did this?"
"HelLO."
The voice was glass ground into gravel, the voice of something that had not spoken in a very long time, and directly behind the young Pit Guard. He spun around, and in his last few moments dearly wished he had not. It was his light that revealed the hulking leonine horror: hungry, furious, and free.
The bestial giant, standing taller than their longest spears, lashed out with a speed that belied its thousand-year imprisonment, and the young Guard flew through the chill air, rent and ruined, the life struck from his body, and disappeared into the darkness of the now empty cell. His comrades, doused in his blood, stared at the beast as if frozen. But they were not frozen. Mortal men though they were, they were also the Pit Guard, Eyra's elite, and though all of them felt fear, none of them would allow that fear to fell them. Shock turned to grim determination. Their white-knuckled hands gripped the hafts of their spears and swords tightly. It would be death and death alone that would pry their weapons from their grasp.
"PIT GUARD," they cried, charging the demon. "In Eyra's name! Attack! ATTACK!"
The beast welcomed their charge, relished at the bite of their steel against his flesh. It had been so long. So long. The pain sang to him. He had not been dead these long and lonely years, but neither had he been alive until this moment. He grinned as a sword sank into his naked thigh. These were strong warriors, and he was weaker now than he had ever been, but still he was a Child of Aton. He hungered, and that hunger would not be denied.
"YEs. ThaT's IT. DO yoUR duTy," the beast spoke, even as his claws cleaved one of the warriors in half. He could taste his own blood in his mouth. A familiar lightness creeped into his brain. He felt his senses sharpen, expand. His heart beat with a maddened, rabid joy. This was what he was put on this earth to do.
"TRy to FIGHT ME. Try tO HURT ME."
The beast's massive paw gripped one of the soldiers by his legs and swung him about like a club, laying two of the poor bastard's fellows out before slamming him heavily against the unyielding stone wall. His body burst in his armor like overripe fruit. With a flick of his powerful, sinuous tail, the beast swept the last Guard's legs out from beneath him. He fell on his back, his spear flying from his hand. The man's training took over as he bravely moved to draw his sword from its scabbard, but the monster was on him in an instant, massive jaws closing around his arm, crimson-stained fangs tearing it off the shoulder. The man's scream echoed throughout the Pit.
"TRy aLl yOU LIke," said the lion, its muzzle inches from the man's face, its breath washing over him in a cloud of hatred. "I hAve LOSt coUNt of hoW ManY sWorDS have BROKen aGaiNSt my hIDE. How MANY spEARS have sPlinterED betwEEN my TEEth. CaLL for moRe meN. CalL for ALL of thEm. It won'T MATTER. I am NOD, BRiNGER of WAR to this enTIre fEstEring PLAnEt, and I will sWalloW yoUr feTid GodmoTheR's HEART, rIght aFTER I AM DONE sWalLowIng YOURS."
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