Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Part 26 – Binds for the Dead
You try to back away and swiftly remove your coat, but you underestimate the time it takes to do so. While you are holding it in front of you, Loyalty presses the advantage and lunges, perforating the coat.
You feel a pinprick as the hairpin's tip reaches your flesh. You draw back, still holding the useless article of clothing in front of you, which all but disintegrates after a dozen of thrusts. Throwing the useless rag away, you prepare to counter-attack with your dagger.
The wild-eyed heraldress is still pressing her offensive, however, forcing you to back away. You don't realize that you have already crossed much of the room until you walk backwards into your bed, tripping and falling on your back. Her mouth twists into a smile as she goes in for a killing blow.
You twist to your side, shielding your torso, so her stiletto punches into your left shoulder, which goes numb with pain. You roar and jump to your feet, slashing with your dagger madly, causing Loyalty to back away.
If she was an experienced killer, you would already be dead...
You go after her, but she is smart enough to know that she will lose the fight the second you manage to get your hands on her. Now she is the one backing up, dodging your blows, her loose nightgown doing nothing to restrict her movements.
The bitch starts laughing, probably enjoying the sight of your bleeding body.
“What is somebody like you going to do with the vault's contents?” she spits out between heavy breaths. “What are you going to do with your share of the compensation?”
Is this what this whole thing is about, then? Greed?
She must know that she is being too loud, and taking too long, because she suddenly dashes towards you. You raise your dagger to parry her weapon, but she punches you in the left shoulder instead, stunning you with pain. She buries her stiletto in your right thigh as she passes you.
You cry out, knees trembling with the sudden explosion of pain. Black dots dance around at the edge of your vision. No. Not like this. Out of all the ways to die...
You somehow manage to stay on your feet and spin around, facing her.
“I'm a Builder!” she exclaims, voice breaking with hysteria, “I am the one who decides what to do with wealth, not a fucking suicide like you!”
Despite her posturing, Loyalty must know that she must finish you quickly if she wants to have a chance to get away. When she leaps at you, you are ready for her.
You boldly try to dodge an incoming high thrust while simultaneously leaning towards her so that you may grab her. You throw your head back as her stiletto comes awfully close and blink, hard. Sudden pain erupts from your face. You try to open your left eye but you can't.
It doesn't matter. The pain – doesn't matter. You have her now.
Her expression changes to one of fear as you grab her shoulders and run her into the wall while screaming like mad. She yelps as her head hits the wall, hard. You hear her weapon clatter to the floor.
You throw the murderous whore on the bed and pin her down, your left hand firmly around her neck. She looks up at you with pleading eyes, croaking as you throttle her. Her wig had fallen off, revealing her bald, bulbous head. Meanwhile, her hands try to claw at you.
She is still dangerous. In pain and rage, you blindly thrust your dagger into her lower body while watching the lights in her eyes go out. It finds her belly, or perhaps her groin, so you pull upwards, disemboweling her.
Blood sprays out of her mouth, splashing across your face. Her legs thrash about wildly. You punch your blade into her again and again, only stopping when your arm tires.
The heraldress, eviscerated from cunt to ribs, looks at you with her dying, glassy eyes, somehow still struggling with you. A long nail finds your left eye socket and presses into it. You scream and squirm as the remnant of your eye drips down, joining the mix of gore staining the both of you. You snap your jaw and find her finger trapped within it. It gives way with a sickly crunch.
The bloody bitch still lives. You let go of her throat and sink your dagger directly into the top of her head. She sputters blood as her entire body convulses, then finally goes still.
You fall on top of her ruined body, feeling utterly spent, taking deep, ragged breaths. The smell of gore and shit from her cut-up bowels is strong, but it doesn't bother you. Numbness rules your mind now. It is in that numbness that you eventually notice that the window curtains are drawn open, exposing the room to the rear grounds.
How and when did this happen? The storm is the most likely culprit, but you suppose that it doesn't really matter. You get up, still panting, and press yourself against the window, offering a wicked smile to the shard and the void. You spot the silhouette of your old friend, that mysterious spying beholder, and wave at him. The beholder hastily retreats to one of the sheds, running as fast as his tentacles can take him.
You put your fist through the window with a crash, shouting at the fleeing beholder. Go on, then – run! Tell whoever sent you that you saw two deaths tonight, you fucking eye-bastard!!
“The murderer is in this room!” a voice shouts from behind you.
The guards are at your door. You spin around and throw your spare blades at them. Then the oil lamp, which starts a small fire. Then the chair. Then...a hammerite's head collides with your own, and the world goes dark.
---
The first thing you do after your senses return is throw up. You've had to kill before, but this was...bad. Really bad.
Afterwards you examine yourself. Someone went through the trouble of stitching you together and wrapping your wounds in clean bandages, but what for? Binds for the dead...this shit is almost funny.
You are in a dark, spare small room, probably on the first or third floor. Eventually your eyes adjust to the darkness. The room is bare and the door you don't even try – if it ain't closed, you will sell yourself to the Trickster.
Demiurge-knows how much time passes until the door creaks open and someone shoves Step-There into the room. Step-There, for whatever reason, is holding the unconscious Quiet in his arms. You are not even surprised.
The door closes once more. Step-There curses under his breath and gingerly braces Quiet against the wall, then sits down himself.
You ask him what the fuck is going on. He replies by shrieking and jumping to his feet.
“Oh, Strider, you are here, too?” he says after collecting himself. “Forgive me, I had no idea. These bastards, they said I was the killer! Can you believe that? I had Quiet in my room, you know, to watch over, so they decided to take us both here.”
Huh. The guards had reason to believe you were the killer, but Step-There? Perhaps they think you are working together...
First, you ask the manus how Quiet is doing.
“Her fever broke and she went to sleep. She should be fine soon, or so that buzzer said.”
To that you say nothing, lost in thought. Is this a set up?
Step-There presses his back against the wall and slowly sits back down.
“Demiurge save us,” he breaths out, “are they going to kill us?”
You stay silent.
“Strider,” he continues, a tinge of shame in his voice, “oh shit, Strider...”
Don't say it.
“I lied to you...”
You hang your head. Then you begin to laugh. Of course...
“Steel gave me the same deal as he gave you and Look-It-Up: accompany him to the party and see what happens. He also said...he said that I'd get three hundred coin if cut Look-It-Up's throat and planted Belt's handkerchief in the room.
“But I didn't! I mean, I couldn't...I spent the better part of the day talking to the manus, Strider. I talked my way into the library with promises of telling him all about the shards I've walked...he was like a child, Strider, curious and innocent. When I got up to, you know, do it, I...I couldn't. My hands and arms, they were shaking, I felt so sick. I went to the latrine to collect myself, and when I got back, someone else was in there with Look-It-Up, just like I said. I was so anxious that I absentmindedly shoved the handkerchief under the carpet and left – Trickster's tail, that was stupid! - but I suppose it worked out in Steel's favor at the end...”
Minutes pass before you speak up. You want to know why he would ever agree to do something like this. You've had to kill in your career as a freebooter – you get it. But to be hired as an assassin...?
“Why I did it? Because I was sleeping in the gutter and eating shit!” Anger breaks out in his voice: “That failed journey to the Cold Shard – it ruined you, Strider, yes – but it finished me! The Seekers Guild, freebooter captains, they wanted nothing to do with me! The Officials? Bah! I was an unknown quantity to them, or worse, dangerous...no one would have me as a shardwalker, Strider.”
He goes on about how, when his savings ran out, he was evicted from the place he was renting. He describes being beaten on the first day in the streets, mugged for the few possessions he still had on the fourth, and stabbed on the ninth. Eventually, he used the very skills that allowed him to survive on unexplored shards in order to survive in the City – the “most dangerous shard”, he says. He stole. He ate vermin. He cultivated mold and fungi, experimenting to see which were save to eat.
Eventually he even joined a gang, working as something like a guide, but even then he refused to even consider the possibility of becoming a freebooter. “Freebooters,” he used to think, “are the scum of the shards – even worse than us, Seekers. Wretched criminals, most of them living hand-to-mouth, putting a very low price on their own lives. The Demiurge gives everyone a chance, gives everyone a life, yet they choose not to spend theirs on faith or love or duty, but to throw them away for a pouch of coin...”
It wasn't long before Step-There realized that he had been describing himself. Whatever chance he had, he missed. The life the Demiurge gave him, he lost. The old Step-There, the enthusiastic Shardwalker with many a journey under his belt, waiting for “just one successful voyage” that would let him join the Seekers Guild as a member – that Step-There is dead. The new Step-There became a freebooter before he chose to be one.
He explains that he started his career with the gangs. Eventually he was renting a bed in the Facade Ghetto, where he found work for well-connected group of buzzer criminals. He was almost certain that they were Void Cultists, but they paid well, so he asked no questions. When he had enough coin to buy a hovel in the Voidship Yards, he immediately did so. He continued to meet queer employers: a veiled stranger, a manic herald in rotting rags, and, eventually, a well-spoken lurk that took heads...
At some point Step-There starts sobbing, as if re-experiencing several months of painful struggle. You understand how he feels. You didn't have it as bad as him, but you sure did go through a lot in the months between your separation with Whisper and now. Do you have the right to blame Step-There for becoming a would-be assassin? Hardly.
That is how you spent your time in the dark room. Two washed-up freebooters, trading stories of their old pain...and Quiet. Quiet, who simply slept through it.
---
There is commotion outside the door, then a muffled scream, and finally the clanking of metal keys.
“Greetings,” Head-Taker says in his gravely voice after throwing the door open.
“Rest is over,” you hear Deadliest behind him say, “we've work to do.”
This, for whatever reason, finally wakes Quiet up, who mutters: “Wh-wait...what is happening? Where am I?” Step-There reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder, saying: “Among friends...I think. Do you remember anything?”
“I...I went to see the Lady-Scribe. In the garden, my lady said we'd meet at the garden. No – I actually saw Lady Loyalty, saw her before she reached out and I felt a pin-prick, and...”
“Alright, that's enough,” Deadliest barks, “get the fuck out of there. Quiet should stay – she will be safer that way.”
Your entire body aches as you get up and step into the hallway. Step-There does the same. Three people are standing around the entrance: Head-Taker, Deadliest Vile, and an unfamiliar beholder in a servant's uniform. The first two are bristling with bloodstained weapons which had been confiscated from them days prior, while the latter backs away as soon as he recognizes you, but Deadliest shoves a gun in his face and tells him to stay put.
“I heard about Loyalty,” Vile says with a cruel smile, “nice work. That a thing you are into? Cutting up whores, I mean.”
You tell him to shut the fuck up. He shrugs, and hands you an expensive-looking smallsword with a bloodstained hilt. “You will get more use out of this,” he says, then shoves a brace of knives into Step-There's hands. Your gaze wanders and you spot the corpse of the smallsword's previous owner on the floor; Silver is lying dead, split from shoulder to mid-section. As your eyes adjust to the light, you notice that Head-Taker and Deadliest are similarly covered in blood and reeking of death.
“Good freebooters, please keep an eye on the beholder while I talk business with Quiet,” Head-Taker says and, despite Step-There's protests, disappears into the dark room and closes the door behind him.
He emerges soon after.
“The girl has agreed to cooperate. Upstairs, then,” he says matter-of-factly, then locks the unfamiliar freebooter in with Quiet and takes the lead.
Being given no choice, you follow. The familiar hallways of the first floor soon turn into nightmarish tunnels splattered with viscera. Corpses of servants are strewn about, bearing marks of heavy weapons.
Suddenly, a door that you are passing bursts open, beholder tentacles emerging from within the room. One lashes around Step-There's foot, pulling him towards the doorway.
Step-There retains his footing and slashes at the beholder wildly.
Slimy beholder blood paints the walls as Step-There's desperate attacks succeed in putting out several of his eyes.
“Get down!” the lurk roars and rears up on his hindquarters, brandishing the longaxe.
Step-There obliges him by falling on his ass while crying out for help.
The axe splits Master Flagellant's spherical body in two. A shattered white mask falls to the floor.
“That should be all of the guests and servants taken care of,” Deadliest Vile comments, “now we just worry about the guards.”
Head-Taker remains on his hoofs for as long as it takes him to help Step-There to his feet, then proceeds to lead the party.
You exchange a few worried looks with the shaken manus, but don't do much else but follow. With Head-Taker ahead and Deadliest Vile behind, there isn't much room to run.
As the party reaches the staircase by the entrance hall, Deadliest Vile suddenly stops.
“You hear that?” he says, and no one responds. “They are banging on the front door. The spearmen, probably. I will take care of it.”
Without another word the beholder rushes into the entrance hall. Head-Taker gives you a look that makes it clear that he will kill you if you try to run, then orders you to climb the stairs to the third floor. After you make it there, he flies up the staircase, shepherding you onward.
The hallways of the third floor look like nothing in particular, which is to say that they look exactly the same as all the other hallways in this strange fucking building. Shortly after passing the stairs you hear muffled bangs from below.
Head-Taker leads the two of you to a large set of double doors and tells you that Sees-It's study is beyond. You ask him what you are supposed to do, and as you do that, the remaining four of the interior guard round the corner and run at the three of you.
“Shit! They took the other set of stairs!” the hammerite leading them exclaims.
“Just burst through the door and be ready to duck and cower,” Head-Taker growls in response to your question, then leaps forward.
He lands between the doors and the useless guards, cutting them off.
“You are outnumbered! Just drop the axe, and, uhm...” the hammerite stammers.
“What is my name?” the Head-Taker replies.
He jumps as high as the ceiling allows, then dives down axe-first.
The hammerite raises his smallsword in a futile attempt to knock the axe away, but the weapon shatters the frail sword and continues to travel downward, bisecting the poor guard.
The remaining White Cloaks rush Head-Taker desperately, who swings his massive axe around in a single fluid motion.
Heads roll and limbs fly, some making it as far as the doorway. You reach the door with Step-There, but he seems hesitant about going inside.
What do you do?
a) Take the lead and rush in, ready to “duck and cower”
b) Tell Step-There to stop being a craven and to get into the room already. It is the least he can do after lying to you
c) Open the door and push Step-There into the room, so that he ends up taking the lead
d) Take advantage of this situation and try to escape the manse
e) Do something else, please specify what
I should mention that I will probably slow the fuck down and not update until after the weekend, which should hopefully give you guys enough time to...process this update.
...the Die of Fate
Result: 2! You got unlucky!
Result: 2! You got unlucky!
You try to back away and swiftly remove your coat, but you underestimate the time it takes to do so. While you are holding it in front of you, Loyalty presses the advantage and lunges, perforating the coat.
...2d6 Damage, discarding the highest result
Armour: 0
Result: 1; You lose 1 hit point!
Armour: 0
Result: 1; You lose 1 hit point!
You feel a pinprick as the hairpin's tip reaches your flesh. You draw back, still holding the useless article of clothing in front of you, which all but disintegrates after a dozen of thrusts. Throwing the useless rag away, you prepare to counter-attack with your dagger.
...2d6+Dexterity
Result: 6; Failure!
Result: 6; Failure!
The wild-eyed heraldress is still pressing her offensive, however, forcing you to back away. You don't realize that you have already crossed much of the room until you walk backwards into your bed, tripping and falling on your back. Her mouth twists into a smile as she goes in for a killing blow.
...2d6 Damage, discarding the highest result
Armour: 0
Result: 2; You lose 2 hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: 2; You lose 2 hit points!
You twist to your side, shielding your torso, so her stiletto punches into your left shoulder, which goes numb with pain. You roar and jump to your feet, slashing with your dagger madly, causing Loyalty to back away.
If she was an experienced killer, you would already be dead...
...2d6+Dexterity
Result: 6; Failure!
Result: 6; Failure!
You go after her, but she is smart enough to know that she will lose the fight the second you manage to get your hands on her. Now she is the one backing up, dodging your blows, her loose nightgown doing nothing to restrict her movements.
The bitch starts laughing, probably enjoying the sight of your bleeding body.
“What is somebody like you going to do with the vault's contents?” she spits out between heavy breaths. “What are you going to do with your share of the compensation?”
Is this what this whole thing is about, then? Greed?
...2d6 Damage, discarding the highest result
Armour: 0
Result: 3; You lose 3 hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: 3; You lose 3 hit points!
She must know that she is being too loud, and taking too long, because she suddenly dashes towards you. You raise your dagger to parry her weapon, but she punches you in the left shoulder instead, stunning you with pain. She buries her stiletto in your right thigh as she passes you.
You cry out, knees trembling with the sudden explosion of pain. Black dots dance around at the edge of your vision. No. Not like this. Out of all the ways to die...
You somehow manage to stay on your feet and spin around, facing her.
...2d6+Dexterity
Result: 5; Failure!
Result: 5; Failure!
“I'm a Builder!” she exclaims, voice breaking with hysteria, “I am the one who decides what to do with wealth, not a fucking suicide like you!”
Despite her posturing, Loyalty must know that she must finish you quickly if she wants to have a chance to get away. When she leaps at you, you are ready for her.
You boldly try to dodge an incoming high thrust while simultaneously leaning towards her so that you may grab her. You throw your head back as her stiletto comes awfully close and blink, hard. Sudden pain erupts from your face. You try to open your left eye but you can't.
It doesn't matter. The pain – doesn't matter. You have her now.
Her expression changes to one of fear as you grab her shoulders and run her into the wall while screaming like mad. She yelps as her head hits the wall, hard. You hear her weapon clatter to the floor.
You throw the murderous whore on the bed and pin her down, your left hand firmly around her neck. She looks up at you with pleading eyes, croaking as you throttle her. Her wig had fallen off, revealing her bald, bulbous head. Meanwhile, her hands try to claw at you.
She is still dangerous. In pain and rage, you blindly thrust your dagger into her lower body while watching the lights in her eyes go out. It finds her belly, or perhaps her groin, so you pull upwards, disemboweling her.
Blood sprays out of her mouth, splashing across your face. Her legs thrash about wildly. You punch your blade into her again and again, only stopping when your arm tires.
The heraldress, eviscerated from cunt to ribs, looks at you with her dying, glassy eyes, somehow still struggling with you. A long nail finds your left eye socket and presses into it. You scream and squirm as the remnant of your eye drips down, joining the mix of gore staining the both of you. You snap your jaw and find her finger trapped within it. It gives way with a sickly crunch.
The bloody bitch still lives. You let go of her throat and sink your dagger directly into the top of her head. She sputters blood as her entire body convulses, then finally goes still.
You fall on top of her ruined body, feeling utterly spent, taking deep, ragged breaths. The smell of gore and shit from her cut-up bowels is strong, but it doesn't bother you. Numbness rules your mind now. It is in that numbness that you eventually notice that the window curtains are drawn open, exposing the room to the rear grounds.
How and when did this happen? The storm is the most likely culprit, but you suppose that it doesn't really matter. You get up, still panting, and press yourself against the window, offering a wicked smile to the shard and the void. You spot the silhouette of your old friend, that mysterious spying beholder, and wave at him. The beholder hastily retreats to one of the sheds, running as fast as his tentacles can take him.
You put your fist through the window with a crash, shouting at the fleeing beholder. Go on, then – run! Tell whoever sent you that you saw two deaths tonight, you fucking eye-bastard!!
“The murderer is in this room!” a voice shouts from behind you.
The guards are at your door. You spin around and throw your spare blades at them. Then the oil lamp, which starts a small fire. Then the chair. Then...a hammerite's head collides with your own, and the world goes dark.
---
The first thing you do after your senses return is throw up. You've had to kill before, but this was...bad. Really bad.
Afterwards you examine yourself. Someone went through the trouble of stitching you together and wrapping your wounds in clean bandages, but what for? Binds for the dead...this shit is almost funny.
You are in a dark, spare small room, probably on the first or third floor. Eventually your eyes adjust to the darkness. The room is bare and the door you don't even try – if it ain't closed, you will sell yourself to the Trickster.
Demiurge-knows how much time passes until the door creaks open and someone shoves Step-There into the room. Step-There, for whatever reason, is holding the unconscious Quiet in his arms. You are not even surprised.
The door closes once more. Step-There curses under his breath and gingerly braces Quiet against the wall, then sits down himself.
You ask him what the fuck is going on. He replies by shrieking and jumping to his feet.
“Oh, Strider, you are here, too?” he says after collecting himself. “Forgive me, I had no idea. These bastards, they said I was the killer! Can you believe that? I had Quiet in my room, you know, to watch over, so they decided to take us both here.”
Huh. The guards had reason to believe you were the killer, but Step-There? Perhaps they think you are working together...
First, you ask the manus how Quiet is doing.
“Her fever broke and she went to sleep. She should be fine soon, or so that buzzer said.”
To that you say nothing, lost in thought. Is this a set up?
Step-There presses his back against the wall and slowly sits back down.
“Demiurge save us,” he breaths out, “are they going to kill us?”
You stay silent.
“Strider,” he continues, a tinge of shame in his voice, “oh shit, Strider...”
Don't say it.
“I lied to you...”
You hang your head. Then you begin to laugh. Of course...
“Steel gave me the same deal as he gave you and Look-It-Up: accompany him to the party and see what happens. He also said...he said that I'd get three hundred coin if cut Look-It-Up's throat and planted Belt's handkerchief in the room.
“But I didn't! I mean, I couldn't...I spent the better part of the day talking to the manus, Strider. I talked my way into the library with promises of telling him all about the shards I've walked...he was like a child, Strider, curious and innocent. When I got up to, you know, do it, I...I couldn't. My hands and arms, they were shaking, I felt so sick. I went to the latrine to collect myself, and when I got back, someone else was in there with Look-It-Up, just like I said. I was so anxious that I absentmindedly shoved the handkerchief under the carpet and left – Trickster's tail, that was stupid! - but I suppose it worked out in Steel's favor at the end...”
Minutes pass before you speak up. You want to know why he would ever agree to do something like this. You've had to kill in your career as a freebooter – you get it. But to be hired as an assassin...?
“Why I did it? Because I was sleeping in the gutter and eating shit!” Anger breaks out in his voice: “That failed journey to the Cold Shard – it ruined you, Strider, yes – but it finished me! The Seekers Guild, freebooter captains, they wanted nothing to do with me! The Officials? Bah! I was an unknown quantity to them, or worse, dangerous...no one would have me as a shardwalker, Strider.”
He goes on about how, when his savings ran out, he was evicted from the place he was renting. He describes being beaten on the first day in the streets, mugged for the few possessions he still had on the fourth, and stabbed on the ninth. Eventually, he used the very skills that allowed him to survive on unexplored shards in order to survive in the City – the “most dangerous shard”, he says. He stole. He ate vermin. He cultivated mold and fungi, experimenting to see which were save to eat.
Eventually he even joined a gang, working as something like a guide, but even then he refused to even consider the possibility of becoming a freebooter. “Freebooters,” he used to think, “are the scum of the shards – even worse than us, Seekers. Wretched criminals, most of them living hand-to-mouth, putting a very low price on their own lives. The Demiurge gives everyone a chance, gives everyone a life, yet they choose not to spend theirs on faith or love or duty, but to throw them away for a pouch of coin...”
It wasn't long before Step-There realized that he had been describing himself. Whatever chance he had, he missed. The life the Demiurge gave him, he lost. The old Step-There, the enthusiastic Shardwalker with many a journey under his belt, waiting for “just one successful voyage” that would let him join the Seekers Guild as a member – that Step-There is dead. The new Step-There became a freebooter before he chose to be one.
He explains that he started his career with the gangs. Eventually he was renting a bed in the Facade Ghetto, where he found work for well-connected group of buzzer criminals. He was almost certain that they were Void Cultists, but they paid well, so he asked no questions. When he had enough coin to buy a hovel in the Voidship Yards, he immediately did so. He continued to meet queer employers: a veiled stranger, a manic herald in rotting rags, and, eventually, a well-spoken lurk that took heads...
At some point Step-There starts sobbing, as if re-experiencing several months of painful struggle. You understand how he feels. You didn't have it as bad as him, but you sure did go through a lot in the months between your separation with Whisper and now. Do you have the right to blame Step-There for becoming a would-be assassin? Hardly.
That is how you spent your time in the dark room. Two washed-up freebooters, trading stories of their old pain...and Quiet. Quiet, who simply slept through it.
---
There is commotion outside the door, then a muffled scream, and finally the clanking of metal keys.
“Greetings,” Head-Taker says in his gravely voice after throwing the door open.
“Rest is over,” you hear Deadliest behind him say, “we've work to do.”
This, for whatever reason, finally wakes Quiet up, who mutters: “Wh-wait...what is happening? Where am I?” Step-There reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder, saying: “Among friends...I think. Do you remember anything?”
“I...I went to see the Lady-Scribe. In the garden, my lady said we'd meet at the garden. No – I actually saw Lady Loyalty, saw her before she reached out and I felt a pin-prick, and...”
“Alright, that's enough,” Deadliest barks, “get the fuck out of there. Quiet should stay – she will be safer that way.”
Your entire body aches as you get up and step into the hallway. Step-There does the same. Three people are standing around the entrance: Head-Taker, Deadliest Vile, and an unfamiliar beholder in a servant's uniform. The first two are bristling with bloodstained weapons which had been confiscated from them days prior, while the latter backs away as soon as he recognizes you, but Deadliest shoves a gun in his face and tells him to stay put.
“I heard about Loyalty,” Vile says with a cruel smile, “nice work. That a thing you are into? Cutting up whores, I mean.”
You tell him to shut the fuck up. He shrugs, and hands you an expensive-looking smallsword with a bloodstained hilt. “You will get more use out of this,” he says, then shoves a brace of knives into Step-There's hands. Your gaze wanders and you spot the corpse of the smallsword's previous owner on the floor; Silver is lying dead, split from shoulder to mid-section. As your eyes adjust to the light, you notice that Head-Taker and Deadliest are similarly covered in blood and reeking of death.
“Good freebooters, please keep an eye on the beholder while I talk business with Quiet,” Head-Taker says and, despite Step-There's protests, disappears into the dark room and closes the door behind him.
He emerges soon after.
“The girl has agreed to cooperate. Upstairs, then,” he says matter-of-factly, then locks the unfamiliar freebooter in with Quiet and takes the lead.
Being given no choice, you follow. The familiar hallways of the first floor soon turn into nightmarish tunnels splattered with viscera. Corpses of servants are strewn about, bearing marks of heavy weapons.
Suddenly, a door that you are passing bursts open, beholder tentacles emerging from within the room. One lashes around Step-There's foot, pulling him towards the doorway.
...1d6-2 Damage
Armour: 0
Result: -1; Step-There loses no hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: -1; Step-There loses no hit points!
Step-There retains his footing and slashes at the beholder wildly.
...1d6 Damage
Armour: 0
Result: 4; Master Flagellant loses 4 hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: 4; Master Flagellant loses 4 hit points!
Slimy beholder blood paints the walls as Step-There's desperate attacks succeed in putting out several of his eyes.
“Get down!” the lurk roars and rears up on his hindquarters, brandishing the longaxe.
Step-There obliges him by falling on his ass while crying out for help.
...2[d6+2] Damage, discarding the lowest result
Armour: 0
Result: 4; Master Flagellant loses 4 hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: 4; Master Flagellant loses 4 hit points!
The axe splits Master Flagellant's spherical body in two. A shattered white mask falls to the floor.
“That should be all of the guests and servants taken care of,” Deadliest Vile comments, “now we just worry about the guards.”
Head-Taker remains on his hoofs for as long as it takes him to help Step-There to his feet, then proceeds to lead the party.
You exchange a few worried looks with the shaken manus, but don't do much else but follow. With Head-Taker ahead and Deadliest Vile behind, there isn't much room to run.
As the party reaches the staircase by the entrance hall, Deadliest Vile suddenly stops.
“You hear that?” he says, and no one responds. “They are banging on the front door. The spearmen, probably. I will take care of it.”
Without another word the beholder rushes into the entrance hall. Head-Taker gives you a look that makes it clear that he will kill you if you try to run, then orders you to climb the stairs to the third floor. After you make it there, he flies up the staircase, shepherding you onward.
The hallways of the third floor look like nothing in particular, which is to say that they look exactly the same as all the other hallways in this strange fucking building. Shortly after passing the stairs you hear muffled bangs from below.
Head-Taker leads the two of you to a large set of double doors and tells you that Sees-It's study is beyond. You ask him what you are supposed to do, and as you do that, the remaining four of the interior guard round the corner and run at the three of you.
“Shit! They took the other set of stairs!” the hammerite leading them exclaims.
“Just burst through the door and be ready to duck and cower,” Head-Taker growls in response to your question, then leaps forward.
He lands between the doors and the useless guards, cutting them off.
“You are outnumbered! Just drop the axe, and, uhm...” the hammerite stammers.
“What is my name?” the Head-Taker replies.
He jumps as high as the ceiling allows, then dives down axe-first.
...2[d6+2] Damage, discarding the lowest result
Armour: 0
Result: 8; the Silver Cloak guard loses 8 hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: 8; the Silver Cloak guard loses 8 hit points!
The hammerite raises his smallsword in a futile attempt to knock the axe away, but the weapon shatters the frail sword and continues to travel downward, bisecting the poor guard.
The remaining White Cloaks rush Head-Taker desperately, who swings his massive axe around in a single fluid motion.
...2[d6+2] Damage, discarding the lowest result
Armour: 0
Result: 8; the Silver Cloak guards lose 8 hit points!
Armour: 0
Result: 8; the Silver Cloak guards lose 8 hit points!
Heads roll and limbs fly, some making it as far as the doorway. You reach the door with Step-There, but he seems hesitant about going inside.
What do you do?
a) Take the lead and rush in, ready to “duck and cower”
b) Tell Step-There to stop being a craven and to get into the room already. It is the least he can do after lying to you
c) Open the door and push Step-There into the room, so that he ends up taking the lead
d) Take advantage of this situation and try to escape the manse
e) Do something else, please specify what
I should mention that I will probably slow the fuck down and not update until after the weekend, which should hopefully give you guys enough time to...process this update.
