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Post by relentless on Dec 14, 2017 17:35:53 GMT -8
Braund merely stared at the brand for a moment as it formed in his palm, watching as the red gem dissipated and melted into his hand. After a few seconds passed, the cultists hand trembled and closed slowly, brand disappearing as a clenched fist formed. Soon enough, his right forearm began to tremble with a dim rage forming, brass barbute swaying toward the creature, head cocking from left to right, his neck audibly popping from tension.
"I am not SHACKLED to the likes of sheep!"
Braund yelled at the gargoyle, gripping him by the horn and hoisting him up with unnatural strength, leveling the gargoyle to his visor. Harsh breathing could be heard through the mans visor, heated breathes cooling against the stone of the gargoyles snout.
"Sheep do not deserve my attention."
Braund hissed at the gargoyle, maintaining eye contact with the gargoyles glossy red eyes, before he threw the gargoyle to the ground with a release of his horn, walking off with tempered strides toward the Ruins with or without the gargoyle to spectate.
"Only good for slaughter, and example."
Braund added onto his quote in a rather loud, and biting fashion as he dragged the blade through the dirt toward the exit of the ruins.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 14, 2017 17:53:02 GMT -8
The gargoyle let out something akin to a cry as it was picked up and thrown about like a ragdoll. It landed on the ground with a thud, itself angry and growling now at Braund. It picked itself ups and speeded up to get in front of Braund before he moved any farther. It stood up, going to it's full height which almost rivaled Braund's own, only 3 inches shorter. It raised its clawed stone hand up to reveal a P of exact nature to the brand on the cultist's hand. It stares him down with utmost anger, trying to convey to the Champion that he wasn't the only one under a contract.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 15, 2017 14:57:02 GMT -8
/Dominic/
"I am but kindling to the flame, Aria." He assured her; neither accepting nor rebuking her thank as he gingerly patted her back, sighing with due relief. His motions were stiff, though they were practiced and precise. Perhaps more accustomed to comrades of thicker mettle.
Regardless, he cleared his throat and rose, nodding to each of his comrades before rolling his shoulders; his blade being taken up by his hand out of habit, his fingers flexed about the blade, before he looked back to their entrance.
Mallilie, however, he tended to now as he motioned for her to rise;
"We will regroup, recover. We've scored blows against The Dark, slaying his apostles." He nodded, agreeing with Aria's assent.
Though Mallilie and Dominic himself were rather untouched by damages as severe as Aria or Grom, there was a cumulative decline in the party as a whole that even Dominic found distressing.
Naturally, he silenced these thoughts with a mutter and a shift of his blade; taking steps past the two women to presume the lead up the slippery slope they'd descended down.
"We've delved deep..." He grumbled to himself, sighing as he looked about them; motioning to the party as a whole.
"... We require a torch to illuminate our path. We've only yet cloven some respite with our deeds of faith.", he implored for a torch; looking to any member, in hopes of obtaining one...
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 15, 2017 17:35:49 GMT -8
Oddly enough, Grom would find nothing useful on the Priests body. No paper, no keepsakes, just his weapons and his clothing, along with what was apparently toes and fingers in some makeshift pockets, a light snack for him one would assume. While he searched, he would begin to see the body itself start to decay, rather rapidly in fact, already bone was staring to show on the Priest's torso, otherworldly for sure, disturbing to say the least. It might be best to move away, as the longer Grom would stay close to the body, he would feel himself start to become hungry, hungry for flesh, the feeling growing the longer he stayed.
Aria, and Mal would find themselves better off, however despite the gruesome atmosphere they would feel the strings of hunger plucking at their stomachs. Thankfully it would be for normal food, and their thoughts would be filled with a comforting warmth. Too bad it was all a facade to cover what was to come.
Then there was Dominic, with the head on his belt that was slowly decaying into nothing but bone. Any flesh or the like completely gone and his side would be all the lighter for it. He would feel hunger, but not the one Grom or the women felt, but a hunger for battle, for power. It would burn deep into his soul and fill him with the might of a thousand men, or that of a specific Cultist Champion. Yet, he would feel sluggish in his powerful movements and would find it harder to dodge attacks for now.
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Post by black379 on Dec 16, 2017 17:59:36 GMT -8
Mallilie's trembling was stifled as she saw the crusader perform his miracle. That he could mend the gruesome wound, even if Mal was presently unscarred herself, was a great relief. She rubbed her palms off on her pantlegs, though it only served to smear red streaks on her trousers, more than clean her hands any.
She wished to be clean, free from the sticky bloodstains on her skin and clothes. Escaping the gore-drenched room was the first step. The musketeer leaned her weapon on one shoulder, so the thing itself wouldn't sink into blood, while she scoured for a torch.
"Got it. I-I've got it." She ignited the torch and held it up, between herself and Dominic. Already, the woman could feel her nerves calming. Though more than anything, she would have liked to be someplace safe, and someplace with food.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 16, 2017 18:20:13 GMT -8
/Dominic/
The onset of battle, of such zeal, both turned his guts and muscles into tense cords; his shoulders squared like a wall of faith, he reached out and clasped Mal's hand over the torch.
The force of which undoubtedly hurt, at first, but it softened and he cleared his throat, sighing with such intensity, it looked as though smoke wafted out from his helm.
"Thank you... Little Thunder." He affirmed with utter seriousness as he took the torch from her.
"I will bear the torch, so you might still aim and fire..." He paused as he turned away, taking one moment to look at her again,
"... Drink some water, your flame it is... Exuberant, and shaking." Dominic elaborated, he raised his sword emphatically, as he looked to the rest of his Warband with a nod.
"Let us depart." He ordered, confident, proud, as he started the difficult march up the slope they'd descended down...
\\
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Post by rumsztyk on Dec 22, 2017 19:02:07 GMT -8
Wordlessly, Grom recoiled in fear from the rapidly decaying body, completely giving up on the search. Staring in dumb awe for a moment, he turned to the group. Despite the wound, he found himself quite quick on his feet.
"Y-yeah, let's go." He blurted out quickly, his speech quite in contrast to the usual cold demeanor. After a few more hurried steps, he slowed down. His face, unseen to the group, tensed back.
"Ain't getting nothing from this but a gut wound. Great." He growled, mostly to himself, and pushed on.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 22, 2017 20:40:34 GMT -8
Now the group sent onward, filled with a zealous pace lead by Dominc, followed by the new faith filled Aria, then by the roaring disturbed Thunder Mal, and last but not least Grom who had been too close to eating human flesh while also being scarred for another time in his life!
An exciting adventure for sure, and as they traveled back, they would find the room with all the dead bodies also decaying unnaturally fast, the Priest having kept all of them fresh for his next meal by using a certain type of magic on the two rooms.
Now as they climbed up the incline they would find the room filled with liquid.....empty. There was nothing, no mirror, no cauldron, just....nothing, and the sense of foreboding would increase in time as they traveled. Aria was at the moment looking over the list of creatures the group had to kill for their job to be done, a manic for money as always. She was crossing them off in her head, until she came onto the last one, which sent whatever expectance of money to disappear.
Gargoyle. The word was filling her entire mind so much that she literally stopped in her tracks, her face pale once more and her body was visibly shaking again.
"We haven't finished it, there's one last thing we haven't found.......a gargoyle. Has anyone of you seen a fucking gargoyle, because I haven't. Let's hope....once we lie about it the Heir doesn't find out. As far as I know he makes sure when a job has or hasn't been completed, he somehow is able to just...know if a job hasn't been completed. The stories about him, I don't want to get on his bad side." She spoke, shivering at the thought of some of the things she's heard.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 23, 2017 14:53:33 GMT -8
/Dominic/
The Crusader nodded grimly, offering some slight acknowledgement over his shoulder as he ascended, minding the bloody path he'd barrelled down with some glorified retrospect.
"We've done enough for today... We will return to slay this... Gargoyle later." He affirmed with a nod, his grip on the torch tightening as he felt his guts roar in protest.
"Re-arm. Sharpen our Steel, feed our Fire..."
"The strongest Blade is nothing without a strong Soul, and Body. Zanzibarrus 1:18" He recited, both to himself, as much as his composed Crusade party.
He took a sharp breath, and pulled his sword closer to his core, glancing down to the skull of the priest, the bascinet of the Fallen Knight both with a dissatisfied, mournful, hum before setting his slitted gaze to the peak of the sloped decline incline...
\\
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Post by black379 on Dec 27, 2017 9:41:19 GMT -8
Mal paced quickly behind Dominic. She didn't stop with Aria, and quickly caught up with the crusader, adamant to escape. The musketeer reached forward to hold his arm, an anchor and a crutch to make the way back home.
The mention of the stone beast did nothing to soothe her nerves. She could hardly care about fulfilling the mission and would rather skip gargoyle hunting altogether.
"Thank you." Mallilie whispered shakily.
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Post by rumsztyk on Jan 19, 2018 17:56:51 GMT -8
No words came from Grom at first as he silently continued at the group's rear. Only occasional painful hisses.
"Let's just get this over with, one way or another. I don't care." He finally spoke, resignedly. "How do you even kill a bloody statue?"
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jan 20, 2018 17:10:48 GMT -8
"Do you really have to ask? We've seen my arm be healed by holy flame, dead walking, I mean last time we were in that room it was being filled to the brim from a magic fucking mirror!" Aria retorted, skeptical Grom hadn't seemed to realize this place wasn't normal. She was still very terrified but the reassurance of her arm kept her moving again.
-----
As the group continued, they would finally find themselves out in the open again. The courtyard was still scattered wth debri but it seems to have somehow been cleared off to the sides, so that there was a direct path towards the exit of this accursed area. Although, along that path there was probably the worst thing they could've had to encounter.
The gargoyle in question, horns and thorns protruding from its head all the way down its back. It's eyes aglow with a devilish red hue, with clawed hands a heart shaped tail. The stone it was made of was grey as the surroundings, and it's mouth was open revealing makeshift stone teeth, sharp and dangerous considering the material they were made of. It's entire body seemed to shift and move as fluid as if it was flesh and it turned to the adventures with bloodlust in his eyes.
Then there was Braund, a rather imposing cultist figure, daunting, and appearing like a war machine with his attire. His height matched and perhaps even rivaled Dominic's. There was that dark energy that seemed to leak off the pair that forebode pain and misery. IIt was clear the two we're working together, as they hadn't killed each other off already. Now it was the fear of a fight that might end the group given two were heavily that would now plague some of not all of the party members.
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Post by relentless on Jan 21, 2018 15:05:17 GMT -8
"Move, cretin."
Braund grumbled on as he pushed the gargoyle aside, shaking his head with blade hefting over his pauldron. His glare burrowed to the entrance ahead as he approached, heavy breathing apparent.
"-This master of yours, who is..."
His question would be interupted as he heard the sprinkle of dirt tumbling down the hill, and the figures that would soon follow. Another fight, potentially. Letting out an exhausted sigh, Braund turned to the Gargoyle, lowering his blade to the ground.
"...Shut it."
Braund bit at the stone figure with malice in his voice, before he turned back around, placing the sword in between his feet into the dirt, and relaxing his arms on the handguard.
"Evening, Sheep."
Braund greeted with a not-so enthusiastic sigh, exhaling heavily through his nose as his hands relaxed in the air. With his weight leaning down on his blade, it would be pushed down slightly into the earth, giving it a firm foothold. After his greeting, he simply waited idly as they made their way out, making no move whatsoever. Just staring with that soulless visor glowering at them with unknown intention.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jan 27, 2018 11:52:22 GMT -8
/Dominic/
"Simple : You crush the stone. Everything can be broken..." Dominic began, feeling the onset of a battle coming but a moment before spying Braund and the Gargoyle. The two imposing creatures were enough to make him halt his step for a moment, though nothing more as he pressed on; slower, combative, as he took greater strides to place himself more poignantly before the two enemies.
The Gargoyle and Man both sent an heretical shiver up Dominic's spine. His faith was unshakeable, but his bones, his flesh and corporeal body... The Instrument of The Light's will...
He had no doubt that he faced demons of The Dark which would see such an instrument broken.
By that fact, he brought his sword about as he stood boldly, statuesque in his fortitude, before them both.
"... Hello. Will you let us pass?" He asked simply, his sword rested at his mid-center, the tip just pressing into the cobblestones and grey earth; held in place with his left, his right hand, bearing the torch, motioned towards the exit of the Dungeon.
That right hand arced back protectively to his comrades, Dominic's helm twisting to look behind him;
"Stay behind me... Get out when you see the opportunity. Be wary of the Gargoyle."
He warned, the Torch raising high above his head as he stood, stalwart before the Gargoyle and Braund, whom his attention returned to.
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Post by relentless on Jan 27, 2018 12:04:46 GMT -8
Braund took a moment to scan the group that came out of the ruins, battered and bent, similar to Dominics Faith, or at least how he perceived it. Likewise would a 'heretical' rage seem to bubble inside Braund, but it was muffled for the moment, his tiredness had already been spent finishing off most of another adventuring party intruding on his grounds. Now he was tired, mentally that is. His time was for meditation, not more slaughter.
So he shuffled his grip upon his large sword. Though impractical, and clumsy in common hands, it was devastating in those that could effectively wield it. That being Braund, a frankenstein human torn between eldritch manipulation and human birth. An interesting combination, apparently.
"... Answer me this, Shepherd."
Braund announced to the party, though his emotionless words were mainly directed toward Dominic who he found quite interesting, though infuriating at the same time. After a few seconds passed for his words to sink in, would his branded hand raise upward to be shown to the party, the ghastly brand of a 'P' prominent on his palm.
"This stone sheep has inflicted me with a... brand. Pray tell, do you know anyone who goes by... 'P'?"
Braund inquired, letting his hand droop down to his sword, relaxing on the handguard.
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