"Well…I suppose it could be worse." I mused to myself, taking in the massive stone archway that held the wooden and wrought-iron doors that led inside the dilapidated, crumbling fortress that I was being 'so very generously' given. The Stronghold itself wasn't very tall, but what it lacked in height, it more than made up for in stature: thick walls of stone and brick covered who knew how many internal layers, while wooden planks lay crisscrossed about halfway up the Stronghold's face: hinting that it was under repairs before the current 'residents' moved in.
Shaking my head as my migraine threatened to creep up on me again at the mere thought of my new 'roommates', I decided to put the thought of the whole lot of them on hold for now and stepped through the doorway: taking in the crumbled tower that no longer had a ceiling, with a spiral stone staircase to my left that had collapsed not much further than the floor above me. With a tired sigh, I slowly made my way up the stairs: testing the strength of each, making sure none were about to give way under the sudden additional weight.
When none of them did, I followed the linear pathway and through another, shorter stone archway to my immediate left: taking note that the path sloped downwards in another staircase and was filled with the echoes of what had to be dozens of additional Lycans lurking within the ancient labyrinth. "Okay 'Dark Souls', who lit the candles?" I mused to myself, raising a hidden eyebrow at the multiple candles and their quivering, little flames as they sat innocently inside the many decorative nooks carved into the walls: reminding me very much of a game that I was rather fond of playing long ago. Shaking my head to chase the memories away, I followed the stone walkway into a large, square-shaped room that was just as crumbled and worn as the ramparts and pillars outside: only the damaged and aged pillars and walls were sparsely-decorated with thick, thorny vines that reached from the floor to the ceiling: their sources disappearing through the exposed, pointed framework of wooden beams that vaguely reminded me of the steeple of an old cathedral.
Glancing down, I leaned over what little remained of the short wall that served as a railing and counted at least fifteen Lycans idling around on the ground floor: a few observant ones glancing up at me, only to turn their attention away without hardly a second thought. 'Huh. Guess I actually do owe Heisenberg a 'thank you' for calling the mutts to heel.' I thought, still confused as to how he actually pulled that off, as well as other things, but wasn't going to bother with it any further today: my brain felt enough of a sore, throbbing mess as it was. Scowling at the fact that even inside the Stronghold, I still didn't see any female Lycans, but ultimately shrugged it off and continued through the wooden and stone maze that made up the dilapidated fortress: passing over the remains of a bridge and under torches that lit the path ahead and seemed to come to a stop a few floors above where I stood.
Wrinkling my nose as I saw that the bridge crumbled away a few feet ahead of me: I saw that the Lycans that resided in this room used the large, cylinder pillars as springboards to leap from one to the next, or swung from the vines in order to cross the gaps in the walkways: yet another sign of their intelligence. 'Yeah, no thanks.' I thought, rolling my eyes at the thought of having to follow their example just to get across a collapsed bridge: too annoyed and tired to indulge the thought of being a gymnast at the moment. Glancing around for an alternative route, I spotted a clear section of railing that had fallen away above a wooden platform: giving me a spot to reach and hopefully make a shortcut that didn't involve a tedious amount of parkour.
Climbing the pair of short, wooden staircases: I took another look at my target before pushing a wooden barrel out of the way. With minimal effort, I shoved the brittle thing into the corner and cleared the space I needed, tensed my legs in a half-crouch, and jumped: the virus' enhancements allowing me to make short work of the eight-foot-high wall and landed on the top floor of the honeycomb-like room without a sound. Hearing several 'snarls' behind me, I turned around and spotted another dozen or so Lycans making their way over to where I stood from the wooden platform across from me: one that I knew I would've had to cross if I had followed their example and took the long way around.
"Thought Heisenberg told you lot to fuck off?" I questioned the creatures, narrowing my eyes into a glare as they advanced: the lack of motion towards their weapons and loud 'snuffling' told me that their actions were curiosity-driven, but that still didn't excuse them from being an annoyance in my personal space. Even though I knew they would never be able to verbally answer me in a way that I understood, I figured mentioning the familiar name would at least get them to scatter and leave me to my business: which caused the majority to hesitate, while a few brave ones ignored me and continued to advance.
Squaring my shoulders at the bravest few, I prepared to send them off the balcony as punishment for not getting the hint that I wanted to be left the hell alone: only to pause as another noise caught my attention from my immediate left, directly across from my current company. Shifting my stance, I tilted my hood in such a way that allowed me to keep an eye on the curious Lycans to my right, while keeping an eye out for the source of the noise to my left: which also allowed me to see the tarnished, metal doors set into another archway in the wall to the left. Apparently, the noise also caught the attention of the advancing Lycans: which caused them to come to a stop a safe distance from me and the door, though I could clearly see that they were anxious to get a closer look at their 'visitor' that they weren't allowed to eat.
Glaring in the direction of the noise, the scowl suddenly vanished from my face as the source jumped down from a shadowed ledge above my head and landed in front of the door with a solid 'thud'. 'Well…hello there.' I thought, taking a step back in order to avoid the present company: and the five additional Lycans that joined him. He was large, easily twice the size of the others, but nowhere near as massive as Urias. But that wasn't what held my attention: resting on his head, was an intimidating, metal helmet that reminded me of Sauron's design in the 'Lord of the Rings' novels, as well as a pair of gauntlets with rusted blades protruding from the backs of his wrists: giving him the illusion of walking on his knuckles like some kind of nightmarish gorilla. Taking notice of me, the armored Lycan puffed his chest out and 'snarled': causing the lesser Lycans to back off and quietly observe from out of their larger brethren's reach.
'Looks like a Beta, or at least a higher rank than the others, the way they behave: too bad I'm not easily intimidated.' I thought, straightening my stance and bared my teeth: making sure he could see the light of the torches reflecting off the fang-like canines, silently challenging him into taking a swing if he was foolish enough. With a low, rumbling 'growl', the armored Lycan took a lumbering step forward: trying to use his superior height and build to intimidate me, making the light of the torches reflect off his hidden eyes like a pair of dying embers. As the chilly air exposed his foggy breath, the prolonged exposure made me wrinkle my nose at the horrid 'dog-breath' that made its way through the gaps in his helmet. When I didn't cower, he dragged the blades along the wooden platform and shoved his forearms into me, trying to knock me over as he circled around me: sniffling and grunting the whole way.
With a short, dry 'bark': he shoved his helmet into the side of my head: causing me to let out a low 'growl' of my own, puffing up my shoulders and shoved him back: causing him to stumble back a few feet and 'snarl' at me again. Apparently, doing so was the right choice, as the armored Lycan paused in his attempted 'bullying' and 'sniffed' at me again: clearly taking notice that I stood with a purpose and wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest. "You done? Or do I need to knock you on your ass too?" I questioned, flexing my hands and glared from under my hood at him: getting very close to saying 'fuck it' and sending him through the wall: Heisenberg's assurance be damned.
Apparently, this one was smart enough to know that I was not something to mess with, as the armored Lycan appraised me for several more seconds, before ultimately deciding that I wasn't worth it: and turned away with a low 'grumble' from somewhere deep in his chest. Taking that as some sort of cue, the rest of the Lycans followed their armored companion's example and wandered off and finally let me have access to the doors: a few curious ones tilting their heads and sniffing in my direction before leaving me to my business. With an aggravated 'huff', I placed my hands on the cold metal doors and gave them a shove: gritting my teeth at their 'squealing' for a second before stepping into the next room. Glancing around, I noticed it was pretty barren: save for a few barrels sitting against the few cylinder support pillars and old crates against the far wall to the left. Trying not to trip over the uneven and crumbling floor, I nearly jumped out of my skin as the suit of armor that I didn't see suddenly showed up in my peripherals.
Normally, I wasn't very jumpy: but given how this day went and how exhausted I was, it wasn't much of a surprise that my nerves were shot and was more on edge than usual. Tilting my head in curiosity, I walked over to inspect the armor: finding it fascinating that something so old was still intact, let alone undamaged. 'Huh, no chainmail. And the plates are thinner and seemingly lighter than the suits from The States: however, you, sir: would've been too large for jousting.' I noted, reaching a hand out and giving the armor a respectful hand on one of the pauldrons: acknowledging its long-dead owner, before turning around and headed towards the downward spiral staircase that I had spotted directly behind me.
Repeating my careful testing of the stairs' sturdiness: I tried not to trip over my own boots as I made my way down: peeking through the gap in the wall and noticed the stairs led into an underground labyrinth that was so dark, even my enhanced vision was having trouble seeing the bottom from where I stood. However, because the lights of the torches made it hard to make out what was in the darkened corners, didn't mean I was deaf to the sounds of countless Lycans as they went about their business who-knows-where. Ignoring them, I continued down the stairs and around a few abandoned crates that had been left on the landings: though I was too tired at the moment to bother with seeing what was in them.
Furrowing my eyebrows, I came to a stop in front of a collapsed section of the staircase: one that had at some point became barricaded by one of the support pillars that had collapsed, preventing me from following the staircase any further. However, to my chagrin: there was a very short escape tunnel of sorts with a sizeable crack in the wall directly to my left that seemed to serve as a sort of shortcut around my current 'problem'. "Well…that's convenient." I sighed, because of course I would have to squeeze my way through the very walls themselves in order to get to where I was apparently 'supposed' to be. Before I could even flatten myself and follow the darkened tunnel, the walls of the Stronghold echoed with a loud, reverberating bellow of a 'roar': signaling that Urias had woken up, and was understandably not in a pleasant mood.
"Looks like someone's awake." I mused, before shaking my head and moving on: determined to find a spot that I could deal with my 'other' issue, without being interrupted by anyone or anything else. Grabbing up my fabric tail and coattails, I flattened myself to the bricks and ducked inside the crack: careful not to touch the small candles that had been placed in the gap and were illuminating the small, cramped space. 'Whoever the hell lit the candles…go dive in an empty pool.' I thought, rolling my eyes at the irony of it all: yet had nobody to complain about all the bullshit to, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to get annoyed at the absurdity of it all.
Appreciative of the face that the combination of the virus and my active lifestyle rendered my form to be slim and muscular: I was able to snugly squeeze between the bricks and stone without having to struggle with being able to fit in the claustrophobic tunnel. However, as I shimmied my way through, I came across a section that had several chunks of stone missing: allowing me to see the pitch-dark, circular room beyond…and the dozen or so Lycans 'snarling' and feasting on the corpses hanging from the ceiling like fresh beef on a hook. Curling my lip at their disgusting table manners, I found that I honestly didn't care much about the corpses themselves or how they got there: too used to violence at this point to be bothered by the sight anymore.
Did that make me heartless? Maybe. But at one point or another, everything died: it was just the manner in which something did or didn't that made something horrendous or not. And in all honesty, I was glad the people being munched on had died by something other than me: because if it came down to me ending someone, I wasn't known for walking away 'spotless' afterwards. Shaking the thoughts away, I tore my gaze from the feasting Lycans and continued on my way: paying no mind to the few that used the vines that grew along the walls as ladders and scurried past my face and up into the darkness above.
Peeking from my hood, I was relieved to see that the tunnel's exit was only a few feet ahead: however, the surprising part was the fact that the brick and stone of the Stronghold's walls had faded away, becoming the organic, naturally-formed walls of a cave. Taking a closer look, I saw that while the walls were natural: they were still smoothed and carved to be part of the fortress. 'Did they run out of materials during construction?' I wondered, squeezing out of the crack and took in the details of the room, and while there wasn't much to see: the lack of stone and brick that made up the rest of the fortress told me that either this was some sort of secret armory, was built as an escape route, or was here long before the Stronghold was even built.
Stepping into the room, my eyes caught sight of a piece of paper laying on the floor next to some positively ancient-looking barrels sitting against the wall next to the room's single burning torch. Deciding not to question how any of the candles or torches remained lit, I managed to get a closer look at the paper and realized it was actually made from parchment: which meant that this yellowed scrap might have been here during the time the Stronghold was intact. Trying not to damage the thin, fragile thing: I carefully picked it up and held it towards my face in order to read it, not surprised to find it written in Romanian. However, because of the virus'…'adaptability', foreign languages weren't a problem, and even though the ink had faded: I was still able to read the rushed scrawl without too much of an issue.
'The King's orders finally arrived…"Withdraw." It is most vexing that we must abandon the border Stronghold to those Heretics! I know that if I had but a little more time, I know I might be able to turn the tides of this battle. Nay…I should not put on airs. It is my curiosity that ties me to this place. There are a number of ruins in the vicinity that the locals say are very ancient. 'The Ceremony Site' with four giant statues. The caves with murals carved on the walls. The stone plinth they call 'The Giant's Chalice'. Where did the people who built them come from? Where did they go? It irks me that we must abandon this place without knowing.' I read, struggling to make out some of the fainter words and smudges, but what I could read fascinated me: as this simple note showed just how long it's been since actual people stepped foot in this place, and told me that this fortress had been here for who knew how much longer than that. Carefully storing the letter on top of one of the barrels, I made sure to keep it out of the light: preserving the history a simple piece of paper had to the best of my current ability.
Stifling a yawn, I turned away from the dusty barrels and stepped through the archway carved into the wall next to the torch: trying not to slip as the pathway sloped downwards and seemingly spilled out into a wide, open room several meters away from where I was. Tilting my hood away from the burning torch next to my head, I took a look at the room the tunnel had left me in: and I was once-again vaguely reminded of an arena where I would fight a boss in a videogame. The room itself was half-moon shaped, but not overly large, with a single large platform resting against the wall in the middle and six broken pillars flanking it. Resting in several places against the wall, and within several decorative nooks in the walls: were more candles, already lit and helping the rising moon illuminate the ominous-looking chamber.
Taking a glance at the silvery moonbeam, I noted that it entered through a large hole above the platform: proving that the cave continued on for a short distance in that direction before revealing an exit to the cold, mountain air outside. To the right of the platform, was another pair of doors that led god-knows-where: but if I was going to have any peace and quiet, I was probably going to have to head through them in order to find a section where the Lycans couldn't annoy the shit out of me. 'Actually…those pillars look pretty tempting.' I thought, sparing the broken and weathered cylinders of stone another appraising glance: filing their potential usefulness to the back of my noisy mind for later as I tensed my legs and hopped down from the ledge, landing on the lower floor with an echoing 'thud'.
As soon as my boots made contact with the floor, the sound of loud, purposeful footsteps scrapping across stone caught my immediate attention: causing me to look up in the direction of the cavern above the platform. Scowling as the ominous, hairy form of Urias lumbered in through the hole: I bared my teeth and shifted into a defensive stance as he jumped from his position and landed in the center of the platform: making it crystal clear to me that this room was his space, and judging by the savage-yet-intelligent glare in his beady silver eyes: I was not welcome in it.
"Yeah yeah, I get it. Just keep that hammer of yours away from me, and we'll get along fine." I called, rolling my eyes as another deep 'growl' sounded from the behemoth: but thankfully, he didn't move towards me as I left him to the space he'd clearly claimed for himself and headed for the metal doors I had spotted earlier. Giving them a shove, my eyebrows immediately jumped to my hairline as I took in the massive crystals that were growing like spikes throughout the entirety of the floor, walls and ceiling of the next hallway: the hidden industrial lights that had been used to illuminate the cave had long-since been consumed, yet still shined through the cloudy minerals giving them an almost ethereal glow. Looking closer at the clusters, at first, I thought they were some sort of quartz: but I've never heard of them growing this large, especially not in such an odd place.
Sneaking around the sharpened edges, I ducked around the largest of the spires and continued along the pathway: spotting different colored crystals scattered among the cloudy-white of the masses, but ultimately decided to take a closer look at them when I didn't have more important things to do. Glad I didn't have to break through the clusters in order to duck into the next room, I gave the crystals a last, sparring glance before continuing on: noticing that the material of this section had returned to the original brick and stone: making me furrow my eyebrows in confusion as to why they would need to use anything else at all, only to figure out that they had probably wanted to spare as much of the materials as possible in case of emergencies. Tilting my hood away from the torch, I wrinkled my nose as the damp smell of stone, fire and dust tickled my nose as I steeled myself and followed the tunnel: hoping I didn't have to deal with something worse than Urias or his Lycan pack at the bottom of the next staircase. "Honestly, how deep is this Stronghold? Feels like I've been wandering in this maze for hours!" I griped, feeling my wonder and patience running dangerously thin: along with my already shitty mood.
Growling out a 'sigh', I stomped down the steep staircase, ignoring the 'magic candles' that had been placed in the decorative nooks on either side: hoping that whatever was at the bottom would at least let me pass without further getting in my way…or there was going to be some 'added décor' that wasn't going to be pleasant to clean up afterwards. Trying not to sneeze at the scent of stagnant air and dust, I suddenly felt a nearly-exhausting amount of relief as I found the room that seemed to be the very bottom of the Stronghold. From the dank, damp air, different kind of stone in the floor, and oddly-placed wooden tables: it reminded me more of a secret lair that would've called for 'nefarious deeds'.
But what caught my attention more than the room itself: was the small T.V sitting on the desk across from the solid wrought-iron gate that led who-knows-where, its rabbit-ears twisted and adjusted to apparently catch what little frequency that could reach a place like this: if any at all. "The hell? How does a place like this even have electricity? I don't hear a generator and there's no wires anywhere." I noted, ignoring the fact that I was talking to myself in favor of trying to figure out just how a fortress as old and crumbling as the Stronghold had any kind of electricity: even the room with the crystals in it had to have at least something, as candles wouldn't make them glow as brilliantly nearly as well as an industrial light.
Ignoring the lit lantern behind me, I knelt on the damp, cold floor and tried to see any outlets hidden under the table: not surprised to come up empty in that search. Shaking my head, I opted to ignore all further forms of weird, out-of-place shit for the remainder of the day before I truly lost what was left of my mind. Stifling another yawn, I ignored the barrels and crates scattered around the small room and picked up another note I had spotted sitting on the table. At first, I thought this one was as old as the other one I had found: but as soon as my eyes identified the graphite of a pencil, I knew this had to have been placed here within hours ago. 'Return to the castle church when the bell tolls.' I read, scowling at the instructions and had half a mind to-you know what?
"Fuck it." I finished aloud, grabbing the note, crumbled it in a gloved fist, and fed it to the torch burning against the wall: feeling a tiny sliver of satisfaction as the smoldering embers and ash became nothing more than a pile of dust on the floor. With a satisfied smirk, I hoped whoever thought that they could order me around and expect me to actually comply with their bullshit would choke on a bone with their next meal: only pause in my 'daydream' as the parasite around my neck decided to shift positions again with a distorted 'squeak'. "Right…you. Guess this is a good of a place as any." I sighed, voice lacking any bite as the events of the day weathered down my actual desire to give a shit: but that still didn't mean that this disgusting thing wasn't in for one hell of a rude awakening, the first clue that Miranda was playing a very stupid game…and will win one hell of a stupid prize as a result. Once I got this thing off, that woman will have nothing: which will make our next encounter…very interesting, and whoever decided to get in my way…well, there's always room in hell for one more: and if they were that eager to pay the place a visit, who was I to deny them?