Aaaaa okay fine the reason I've been late on chapters is because I was doing a Calamity Playthrough in Multi. don't at me.
Armour:
Victide (Ranger)
Weapon: Mandible Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Amidas Pendant, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (400/400)
The Compound seemed to breathe a sigh of relief the moment those heavy gates closed shut, cutting them off from the eyes of their captors. His nerves had been as taut as garrote wire as he watched those two figures recede into the forest, their footsteps muffled in the gloom until they disappeared into the darkness… the darkness from whence they came.
In the west, the sun hurried over the horizon like a man fleeing in disgust. The moon watched them from the east with a solemn and harrowing eye, casting it's pale light against the rustling trees.
There'll be blood tonight… I can feel it in the air…
The night was silent and cold and still… yet beneath the veneer of peace, everything trembled. The ground churned motionlessly into itself, ready to accept blood from their hands. The trees leaned in upon them, pensive and bloodthirsty like spectators at a gladiator's arena. The air moaned and stirred, whipping about it's foul and fleshy stench in eager anticipation for the show.
This was the silence before the battle, the respite before calamity. Which of them would fall prey to disaster? Whose blood would the grave open it's maw to receive? There was no longer any uncertainty. The battle had already been won. Carefully staged, planned and orchestrated, the trap was laid. Their victory was assured, for Amidas was on their side… and between The Sea King's 600 year old intellect, and The Guide's comparatively infantile mind, there was simply no contest.
Especially, if each of them did their part to deprive The Guide of information. Just as Amidas had predicted, The Guide had wandered about, watching them, listening to them, attempting to engage them in conversation for the purpose of gathering data. It was very clear he suspected something, but in the end could not discover their plans. Now, he was taking his Monster Knight away without ever knowing Big Betty would be primed to greet their return.
Alright girlie, it's time to show off.
The wind moaned over the treetops, rattling the dry branches against each other and rustling the leaves. The glaring white flood lights which surrounded the compound beat down on him as he knelt there, expertly soldering and weaving Big Betty's wires together. She was a beautiful thing, this bomb. The finest The Demolitionist had ever created. A great amalgamation of plastics, wires, junctions and TNT which, one properly triggered, output enough raw power to obliterate anything caught within its blast radius. He drew a deep breath as he stood back to admire his handiwork, careful not to jostle the pressure plate which would trigger the explosive. He checked the location once more, made a couple of last minute adjustments, and satisfied, smirked and nodded. This was gonna be good.
"... Y-you're sure this is… okay?"
"...?"
The Terrarian paused from his task and turned to look questioningly at him. Although his face was entirely covered, it was clear from his poise and posture that he was irritatingly confused with the interruption. Why was he confused? Well, The Terrarian had spent the past half hour securely fastening meter long wooden platforms against absolutely nothing, and could not fathom why The Guide was hesitant to commit his entire body weight to the flimsy shelves. The fact they were nearly a hundred feet above the treeline was of no object.
The almost-man had the audacity to emit a slightly exasperated sigh before answering as if he were a school teacher stating the obvious.
"It's secure, Guide."
"Yeah?"
The Guide grimaced as he carefully transferred himself from the rope (similarly attached to nothing) to the thin, foot-wide platform. The Terrarian was watching him from several metres away where he had just placed a live campfire directly on the flimsy plywood shelf. It took every ounce of The Guide's willpower to ignore the obvious danger and not immediately jump for the rope and slide his way down to the ground.
Phew… stay strong...
The platform creaked sickenly beneath his feet as they bowed beneath his weight. His hands had become slick with sweat and he wiped them roughly against his pants leg, keeping his eyes fixed firmly away from the dizzying drop beneath. He gulped and called out, his voice going high as it carried in the moaning, nighttime wind.
"Slayer…What was it that you needed to ask me? Do we really need to be up here?"
"..."
He was feigning ignorance, of course, faking cheerfulness to cover his fatalistic intentions. The Guide had a fairly good idea what the contents of any serious conversation between them would be. It was only this morning when The Sea King had seemingly convinced The Terrarian to his side, proposing he, with his greater knowledge and experience, was to chaperone The Slayer in his future adventures. Much to The Guide's silent horror, The Terrarian had responded positively to these advances and appeared so thoroughly convinced, he even returned The Sea King's looted burial treasure in a gesture of solidarity.
… this is my last chance to change things. I can't let this go on…
This was the turning point. This was the moment of reckoning. He was locked in a battle of wits with The Sea King Amidas, and this was his last opportunity to turn the tides in his favour. He had no plan. He couldn't navigate around that 600 year old intellect. He… contrary to his nature, all he could do was wing it and hope for the best.
Phew… okay.
The Terrarian was watching him carefully from where he stood, his cloak billowing precariously, sail-like in the blustering wind. He didn't seem bothered by the narrow walkway nor the deadly drop not six inches to each side. He walked as firmly and weightlessly as he did on solid ground, even leaping and bounding from one edge of the walkway to the other without the slightest bit of hesitance in his gait.
He was The Slayer. A creature born to fulfill the duty his name implied. His physical abilities were unmatched. He had killed innumerable monsters, large and small, suffering a sociopathic compulsion to fight and slay larger and stronger beasts. What would stop him from turning his blade against men? He had few, if any morals. From the beginning, he had made it abundantly clear that 'uselessness' was the greatest sin, and the wages of such an offense was a swift and brutal execution.
The Sea King is my replacement… I've become obsolete.
This… was the only reasonable conclusion. This was the statement The Terrarian had agreed to in Amidas' castle. The Sea King was old and wise, much older and much wiser than The Guide could ever dream of becoming… and he was offering to replace his inferior. Surely The Terrarian would make the logical decision and oust The Guide from his current role. In the past, The Terrarian had demonstrated exactly what he wished to do with the supposably useless Travelling Merchant. Even now, he was waiting for The Merchant's return so he could kill him. If The Terrarian remained true to this doctrine, The Guide would certainly fall to the same fate.
And perhaps he'd fall tonight.
Because he couldn't run. He had spent all afternoon going mad testing the boundaries of his invisible prison; it was foolproof. He couldn't hide. The compound was small and the Terrarian might as well be a bloodhound. He wouldn't be able to evade his captor for long. Fighting was out of the question, he'd die immediately without even an opportunity to say his piece.
I… I could have trapped him… somehow lay an ambush, but… tch.
Besides, he was never a great fighter. He was keen with a bow, but what good would a few arrows be against the man who had single handedly butchered The Desert Scourge? He could have laid a trap, perhaps somehow orchestrate a small disaster to kill or dismember The Terrarian, but he knew himself well enough. He knew he couldn't do it. If he couldn't kill The Terrarian that first night - standing there in the ashes of his hometown - then he certainly couldn't do it now. The Terrarian had not only grown exponentially stronger, but had become someone more precious to him. He had raised the man from infancy, for goodness sake, and although The Terrarian wasn't his child, he'd most embarrassingly caught himself pondering suspiciously parental things.
Pull yourself together… don't attribute emotions to him…
The Guide exhaled hard. Oh, how his heart ached to see The Terrarian turning away from him. It left a deep hole in his stomach, a sadness that meshed with the fatalistic dread that always seemed to border on his consciousness. Everyone was leaving him. They were dying. They were fleeing. They were abandoning him coldly; disposing of him the moment a superior replacement wsa found. In the end, there'd be nobody left… He'd be alone, just him and his nightmares.
Me, myself and The Wall.
Dreadful. Dreadful. He'd much rather take this risk - to risk death, then subject himself to the possibility of a lonely, miserable existence. He would play along with The Terrarian's charade, follow him about as if not suspecting a thing. Then, he would confront him with an appeal. He'd try to win back his friend. If The Terrarian refused, he'd beg to be allowed to flee…
And… if that doesn't work… then…
No. Surely… surely it wouldn't come to that. At the very least The Terrarian would let him run. He'd promise The Terrarian would never see him again. He'd promise to disappear. That would surely be enough. Ah, he dearly hoped so. Time was short. He called out into the wind, his voice thin and tinny.
"Slayer… we're quite high up. Are we collecting lenses? Or…"
The platforms creaked beneath his feet as he advanced carefully along the lighted pathways. He forced a false confidence into his footsteps, trying to square up as best he could whilst balancing on the terrifyingly thin platforms. He swallowed hard and set his face like flint as he met The Terrarian's gaze. They were standing face to face now, the wind howling between them. He dropped the facade. His voice went cold.
"Or did Amidas ask you to get rid of me."
"...What."
The Terrarian had frozen and cocked his head in a true gesture of confusion. The Guide continued through the interruption. He needed to make sure he voiced his entire appeal - lest he be thrown to his death before he finished. He curled his lip and spilled his words urgently.
"Haven't I been with you since the beginning, Slayer? Was it not I who taught you everything you know? Haven't I saved your life many times? What does it take to earn your loyalty… are you loyal to anyone at all? Tell me!"
Silence between them. Just the whistling of wind. The Guide continued, his words echoing loudly in his ears as they jumbled from atop his tongue.
"We fish Amidas out from the bottom of the ocean. I put on some theatrics, you build him a house, and now that he's demonstrated he knows more than I do you're keen on replacing me? Is that it? Slayer have you no shame?!"
He… he didn't intend to express so much anger, but he couldn't help but to go off script. He was flustered. He was desperate. His anger was born of sadness and disappointment, and The Terrarian wasn't receiving it well. His posture went from neutrally confused to openly hostile. The Guide could see the expression behind the slatted visor change, the shadows shifting into something wrathful. The Terrarian interrupted him again. His voice raw and guttural.
"Stop."
The Guide scoffed and barked over him.
"... ho, Stop?"
Uneasiness turned to incredulity. How could he stop? He was appealing for not only his own life, but the souls of his loved ones as well! Suddenly aflame, he gritted his teeth and seized The Terrarian by the collar of his cuirass. He snarled, punctuating his words with a solid shake.
"Stop what, Slayer? Should I stand here silently and smile while you cut me down? Are you beginning to feel guilty for what you're about to do? These words are making you uncomfortable aren't th-gack!"
An armoured hand shot out to grab his wrist, tearing his hand off The Terrarian's breastplate. His elbow made a worrying crack; pain bloomed down his arm and up his shoulder. He uttered a shocked noise and attempted to wrench away, but couldn't dislodge The Slayer's vice-like grip on his wrist. He raised his eyes in terror to behold the armoured visage of the one who might easily become his murderer.
Oh no, oh no no no no no!
The Terrarian yanked him close, nearly headbutting him before hissing his response. Strangely, although his stance was aggressive, his tone was that of pleading.
"Guide… stop this."
"..."
The wind moaned. The trees rustled beneath their feet. The Guide had pulled back as far as he was able, teeth clenched and silent, waiting for The Terrarian to elaborate. He… he hadn't expected this. A doubt fluttered through his mind. Had he misjudged everything? Couldn't be…
The Terrarian released his hold on The Guide's wrist, withdrawing his hands to his sides. He spoke slowly and with a sigh, yet was a certain violence in his tone.
"Don't test me any more. I hate it."
"...test?"
"Amidas. You sent him to me. I would have killed him for everything he said, but you were listening. Why?"
The Guide blinked.
"And this. Why? You know I need you. I would never betray you."
The Terrarian shook his head and exhaled audibly. He looked genuinely distressed, and - frankly - very tired. The Guide felt a thrill of confused guilt run between his eyes.
"Guide, I'm tired of being tested. I have no more patience for schemes. Not yours, not anyone's. Speak plainly to me… because my home is full of strangers. There are too many people. I… I don't know what to do…"
The Terrarian turned to glance into the distance, toward The small cluster of lights cradled amidst the dark forest. After a moment he shook his head and resumed. His tone had changed, becoming more brisk and succinct.
"I will soon kill your monster… per our agreement. I have not forgotten it, and I expect you to uphold your end." He nodded to himself, voicing his words aloud. " Yes, I will kill your monster. Then I will kill all of those strangers. They're useless to me. Extraneous. Tell me, Guide, who is essential to you that I must spare them?"
"..."
The Guide's mind spun. He blinked and pursed his lips as he processed this new information. How… incredibly flattering that The Terrarian thought he had the foresight and resources to plan everything that had happened with Amidas. The Terrarian had likewise revealed he was aware The Guide was listening in on the conversation in The Castle (he must have not been using his air filter and smelled me), and as a result, The Terrarian had treated Amidas with an uncharacteristic acceptance. Not because he necessarily liked what Amidas was saying, although The Guide suspected he quite did, but because he was aware The Guide expected him to 'be nice'.
He… was putting on a show for me? Really…?
The Guide could hardly believe it, but then again - he didn't think The Terrarian was such a good liar. The Terrarian had never lied to him before, but he had learned to lie. He had lied to The Sea King when asked if anyone else was listening. Had he lied about much else? No. The Guide couldn't let this opportunity slip away. He would need to trust the man he had placed his hopes in… and that man was once more plainly sharing his thoughts, and not just his thoughts - but his plans as well. How much The Terrarian had grown in such a short time. A week ago he needed to be taught the functional differences between liquids and solids. Today he was plotting a mass murder.
What a monster.
Which, although impressive, really shouldn't be anyone's first major undertaking. Still, the Terrarian's sudden urge to clean house conveniently coincided with The Guide's own power struggle with Amidas. If The Slayer just… did away with the merchant's crew - then Amidas would find himself lacking his men and his support. Given they were all trapped together within the compound, once The Sea King was sufficiently weakened, The Guide was once again free to establish his control over his home. After that, he would direct their collective efforts toward eradicating The Crimson.
And hopefully this 'Dryad' comes to assist us soon… we must stop The Crimson before it overruns The Compound.
How fortunate, yet his relief was tinged with guilt. If he agreed to this, if he let His Slayer murder three people in cold blood, was he not an accomplice? No. This was just another stepping stone in his path to firstly free his family, and then, revenge. He couldn't remain the innocent bookworm he had been for the past twenty-six years. No… he had to become something more, something darker if he wished to accomplish anything. The Guide drew a sharp breath and hardened his resolve. He nodded as he spoke.
"Amidas and The Nurse are essential. Kill the rest. Those three men: The Merchant, The Arms Dealer, The Demolitionist."
There was a slight pause. The Terrarian interjected.
"...and the Pink-haired woman."
Silence. The Guide blinked and stuttered.
"W-what? Wait, Slayer she… " The Guide gritted his teeth as his mind supplied an image of the poor, battered young lady. He couldn't help but pity her. Against his better judgement, he plead her case.
"Slayer, she's innocent. She hasn't done anything. Didn't you try to save her? Why kill her now?"
The almost-man furrowed his brow beneath his visor then gave the faintest of shrugs. There wasn't a drop of empathy in him, not that The Guide expected him to have any.
"Yes. She hasn't done anything. Worthless."
Worthless… the Terrarian's logic was quite foolproof. It was true, out of all the current residents of the compound, the pink-haired woman was the most burdensome. There was no real argument The Guide could front to protect her, yet still have his three enemies killed. With a bitter taste in his mouth, he nodded once more and felt a little bit of himself die off.
"Very well… the pink-haired woman as well. But Slayer, a question,"
"...?"
The Terrarian focused his attention. The Guide drew his breath sharply, knowing he would regret allowing his insecurity to get the better of him. The wind howled. The platforms creaked. The Guide's guts churned; he gritted his teeth as he uttered the words.
"If the time comes that I become useless... What would you do, Slayer? Will you kill me too?"
"..."
The Terrarian didn't move. He simply stared through The Guide with his iconic faraway gaze. His face hidden, indecipherable in the deep shadows of his visor. The Guide gnawed the inside of his cheek through the pregnant silence, dearly hoping for any shred of humanity in his almost-human companion. Alas, it wasn't to be. The Terrarian averted his eyes and turned away. His tone became snipped. The air became cold.
"I tire of this. I will not renegotiate our agreement now. Go to the ground, Guide. Summon The Eye. Let me fight the monster."
Demolitionist: Lads, ya ever feel like something's watchin' you?
Merchant: It's that damn Sorcerer again! Quick, out of the hideout!
Arms Dealer: Guys...
Demo: Ya mean the hideout was useless the whole time?!
EOC HAS ENTERED THE CHAT
Notes: oml this was long in coming.
1) tbh, Slayer is pretty damn emotionless. He's still learning how to be a decent human. well, first he needs to learn how to be human lol. 2) So Slayer vs EOC, then Slayer vs Big Betty. Tbh the EOC fight is always easy, but I need to actually do the figth in my playthrough so I can update weapons. 3) Guidey is becoming evil. oh no. :fear:
phew, ok ok. love you all. leave me a note. ty