halo
Armour: Brimflame
Weapon: Winter's Fury(Unusable), Stormfront Razor
Acc(11/11): The Bee, Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Celestial Emblem, Ankh Shield, Deific Amulet, FrostSpark Boots, Grand Gelatin, Amalgamated Brain, Evasion Scarf. (Unlimited Buffs)
Health: (250/500)
Armour: Victide Armour (Ranger)
Weapon: Tendon Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (400/400)
The stones were breathing.
Wheezing out putrid air through miniscule pores and spiderweb veins.
The walls of the passage were dry and rough, much like sandstone, but of a much more gruesome origin. It squelched and gave beneath their feet as they slowly descended into the bloody depths. What was the cave made of? The Guide didn't want to dwell on it, but from what little he could see by The Slayer's torchlight he deduced they were inside some deep persistent wound.
Yuck...
Unfortunately, he was forced to become far more intimate with the pit than he was comfortable with. In some places they could walk upright. In other places, they needed to crawl, on their hands and knees, and even on their bellies. The Guide had never really been jealous of The Slayer's head-to-toe steely battle regalia, but neither could he ever recall wanting a suit of armour quite so badly... Because whatever this was, it was under his fingernails. It was smeared on his cheeks. It was staining through his shirt. It tasted like copper and vomit...
tch...
But he kept pushing forward. They continued to descend. The Guide could tell The Terrarian was growing skittish. He kept looking back at him, as if questioning whether they should really continue. He must be sensing the danger of this place... but no matter the danger, The Guide could not afford to retreat. He had no time. He was well aware he was running low on 'emotional capital' with his companion. As of right now, The Slayer would still do as he ordered... but such loyalty would not last. In fact, they had hardly spoken since they left The Dryad's grave yesterday morning. Clearly, The Terrarian was re-thinking their relationship, and not for the better. Thankfully, The Terrarian had proven slow to make decisions. Hopefully The Guide could cause him to slay The Brain, the Worms and The Wall before he came to any actionable conclusion.
*huff... huff...*
And so, contrary to his normally careful and cautious demeanor, The Guide was rushing headlong into danger. Although he didn't necessarily need to be here (he wasn't going to do any of the fighting), at this point, he was almost certain The Terrarian wouldn't do anything he asked unless he was present. He needed to ensure his mission was complete. These were the thoughts that ran through his head as he crawled through the filth. He panted and gritted his teeth, doing his best not to dwell in the horrid smell of the place. His gloves were nearly worn through to the lining, his elbows and knees skinned against the bleeding organic structures. He was tired. This place was dreadful... but despite every part of him screaming at him to leave, he motioned for The Terrarian to continue.
"..."
And so they did. They descended into the stinking pits by torchlight until the air grew warm and musty, and the darkness was all-consuming. The Guide was certain they had literally descended into the belly of a beast, and when they stumbled upon a large, cavernous chamber - he must be forgiven for assuming it was The Crimson's stomach. What a horrible place! The Slayer halted and raised his torch. The Guide clung to the pulsing walls to peer into the fleshy vacuole.
This place... Its alive...
The air was hot and wet - filled with stinging sulfur that caused his skin to burn and his eyes to water. The moistness was not like steam, but organic - like breath. It seeped through his clothes and stuck to his skin in the most unpleasant fashion. The walls had shed their rigid scabs and beat the the drum of a massive, slow heartbeat. Perhaps it was a blessing the torchlight was not powerful enough to reach the far ends of the cavern, for what he saw was already enough to make his stomach do somersaults in his belly. The walls were made of quivering, jelly-like flesh. It was shot through with globules of fat, sacs of fluid, streaks of muscle and even yellowed bone. The bottom of the chamber was filled with a bloody fluid. Yellowish plasma floated to the top, dark red platelets milled in grotesque patterns near the bottom. There was - one, no, two ... enormous ruptured hearts weakly pumping fluids from the shores of the pool. Between them was a heart that - although covered in diseased sores, looked to be whole. They were terrifying things, as tall as he was, and their innards pulsing erratically to wayward electrical pulses. Everything about this place screamed pain and injury...
Just like The Wall...
But The Guide could not retreat. For the sake of his soul, he would bear any temporary hardships. The pain he would suffer now was nothing compared to the pain he would be subject to inside The Wall. He hardened his heart. He took courage. He issued his commands through clenched teeth.
"Slayer, give me a torch. Drink a water-walking potion. Scatter Glowsticks into the water."
"..."
A brief moment of hesitation. The Slayer twisted his neck further than was possible to meet The Guide's gaze, as if sizing him up to challenge him. The Guide lifted his chin and met that look evenly, not wavering for fear The Terrarian would sense his weakness and turn on him. For if The Terrarian truly wanted to, he could easily grab him and teleport them both back to The Compound. Perhaps he would even act on The late Dryad's advice and prohibit him from leaving to fight The Wall? Perhaps he would simply leave, and allow The Guide to crawl his way back up to the surface to be torn apart by beasts.
He must not allow such a thing to come to pass. The Guide repeated his instructions.
"Now, Slayer. The Torch. The Potion. Glowsticks."
"..."
Not a word. The Terrarian stared him down for a moment longer, those flat, inhuman eyes boring into him with a dangerous intensity. The Guide's heart began to quail, but he controlled his face carefully. A sudden swell of frustration swept away his fear. He raised his voice. He bared his teeth.
"What are you waiting for?"
"Fine."
The Terrarian responded in his signature flat, emotionless voice - the first words he spoke since yesterday. There was tension there, but more resignation than aggression. He passed over the torch, downed the potion and tossed a handful of glowing green sticks into the disgusting fluid below. He watched as they sank to the bottom before leaping - unprovoked -down into the cavern. He hit the water's surface with a strange blobbing noise to stand atop the water tension like a strider. The green glow from beneath reflected harshly off of his armour, lighting the bottoms of his feet and the point of his chin in a eerie luminous gleam. He drew his bow and looked around.
The Guide called from above.
"Okay, Amidas said The Brain will be summoned after three hearts are broken. Look to your left, do you see-"
*thud-thud-thud*
The Guide twisted his lip as instead of waiting for instructions, The Terrarian nocked several shining jester arrows and began shooting randomly about the chamber. The arrows embedded in the walls, and exploded into a glowing dust. What is he doing?! Shedding light? Well, it didn't matter. The Guide knew The Terrarian, much like an animal, was a slave to his instincts. He could not help but to kill monsters - and so long as The Guide summoned one in The Terrarian's vicinity - he would have no choice but to fight it. The man sighed, quickly downed an invisibility potion and pulled his bow from across his back. He didn't like the fact he was taking advantage of his companion in this manner... but what choice did he have? If The Terrarian refused to obey happily, he would do so begrudgingly. The Guide called out once more.
"Hey! There's going to be a massive brain monster! I need you to kill it!"
*thud-thud-thud*
The Terrarian gave no indication he had heard him. He continued to scatter the shining dust until the grotesque chamber was entirely lighted. It wasn't until then that The Guide noticed The Terrarian was trembling as he erratically looked around. His motions were jerky and electric, as if in anticipation of something to come. Did he smell the Brain? Did he know what was coming?
In either case, you better not die...
The Guide pulled an arrow and a small explosive from his rucksack. In a quick motion, he bound one to the other, the bomb's bulbous shape threaded through the arrow like a bead on a string. He sucked a deep breath, lit the bomb, and drew his arm back to take careful aim at the remaining heart. ...Okay.
*thwang*
The arrow flew true, lodging deep into the flesh of the tremendous heart. The explosive hung there, pinned to the surface of The Bomb. The spark on the bomb's fuse was quickly zipping towards the bright red explosive when-
*Boom...splat*
The great organ exploded.
A roar resounded from everywhere at once.
The cavern began to tremble.
And The Slayer leapt into action.
When the thundering noises in the neighboring Jungle Chamber finally died down, The Steampunker was among the first to leap to her feet and run to see what had happened. Her immediate reaction might have been attributed to her natural curiosity, or her uncanny boldness... but the truth was she didn't see Faze anywhere and despite the fact he had killed a Queen Bee in a single strike, she still had the audacity to worry for his well being.
"Bandit?! Oh no!"
Because... he was human. Right? Could humans really move like that? Could humans fly through the air with such fearlessness, could they face down a monstrosity ten times their size with such an expression on their faces? Frankly, The Steampunker was now finding herself with a tremendous problem on her hands. Maybe Faze was human... but probably not. If he wasn't human, what was he? Draedon's CC agent? That was probably the most likely answer. Was Faze Yharim's spy? Because she couldn't date Yharim's spy...
"Bandit!"
But the moment she cleared the mossy bluff and hopped into the larger chamber, all the romantic thoughts vanished from her head, for laying afore her in a puddle of her own blood was The Bandit. She was trembling there in a crater in the moss - as if she had been thrown there by some great force, and clinging tightly to her leg. There was a large, wickedly serrated thorn jutting out from her thigh, causing her ankle to twitch and flail oddly. With a cry, The Steampunker leapt off the ledge to tend to her.
"Bandit, hang in there! Hey! Does anyone have bandages? I need Medical!"
She raised her voice to holler over the general din, but there was no response. The Queen Bee had killed two and injured a few more. The party's scant medical supplies was already mostly used up. Frankly, they hadn't expected to treat any more victims. This wasn't supposed to be a combat mission. It was just a resource excursion. The Steampunker gritted her teeth, stripped off her jacket, and... and...
What am I supposed to do?
She bit her lip. She fretted. The Steampunker fixed machines, not humans, and certainly not the humans she cared deeply for. The Bandit was in no position to give any advice. She was in terrible pain as she pressed down on her own wound in a unsuccessful attempt to stymie the blood flow. She looked quite on the verge of passing out. Was that just because of the puncture wound, or perhaps the blood loss, or perhaps the poison in the Thorn? Clearly the thorn had something in it, but should she remove it? There were supposed to be some arteries in the leg, right? And The Bandit was already bleeding a lot... maybe taking out the thorn would cau-
"Ah! Mr. Tavernkeep! Help! Over here!"
What a relief! She saw the gleam of the team captain's shiny bald head from beneath a tangle of mahogany roots. What was he doing over there? Had he also been injured? The Steampunker couldn't see much from where she stood, so she gave The Bandit a squeeze of encouragement before running off as quickly as her feet would carry her.
"Mr. Tavernkeep! Sir! The Bandit is injured! I need hel-"
Her plea stuck in her throat as she crested the bluff and looked down upon the carnage below. The air was perfumed with the strong scent of flowers, a smell that was so sweet, it was almost rotten. In the middle of the battlefield was what appeared to be the withered remains of... some plant creature. The thing, even torn to pieces, was terrifying! What was that? It was tremendous and covered in all sorts of vicious looking thorns, vines and teeth. Its flesh wasn't that of a normal plant, but of fibres, fungi, insect's claws and aloe flesh. A glowing pink fluid leaked from the monster's wounds, causing the ground around it to spring up with moonglows.
"F-faze? Is that you...wh-" She paled as the gravity of the situation dawned on her, "what... what have you done..."
But the plant monster wasn't the only creature to meet their end in this place.
Oh no... oh no...
The Tavernkeep was dead, his corpse pinned to the mahogany roots by a very familiar shortblade. His eyes were gouged out, leaving bloody recesses in his skull. His mouth was frozen open in terror. Embedded deep in his chest was The Stormfront Razor... and the owner of that weapon was squatting nearby, happily filling vials with Plantera's pink blood.
"Steampunker. Hello."
Faze heard her voice and briefly turned from his task to look at her. He had a great number of glass vials lined up on the ground and was filling each in turn before vanishing them before her eyes. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong, even as he was standing only a few metres from the corpse of The Tavernkeep. There was no remorse on his face. No guilt in those fiery eyes. He offered a half smile.
"I'm making Restoration potions. The blood of these sorts of creatures is so filled with magic, they can easily be repurposed into healing concoctions. Its a really simple procedure, simply mix...(etc)"
He continued to prattle on as he harvested the remains of his kills. The Steampunker stared at him, halfway in terror and halfway in rage. What sort of person could kill somebody so nonchalantly? What sort of person could kill monsters so easily? Indeed, was not that person be a monster himself?!
"..."
But what should she do? Faze was either CC or something worse. If she outed him now, there was no doubt in her mind she would find herself lined up right beside The Tavernkeep - with that Stormfront razor jammed through her sternum. No. First, she needed to protect herself and those close to her. Now was not the time for accusations. There would be ample time for that when they returned to the midst of The Resistance Stronghold.
But first... The Bandit.
She plastered on a fake smile and made her voice high, honeyed and girlish. She trotted down to where he was and did her best not to retch as she passed The Tavernkeep's corpse. She was never good at deception, but Faze had proven to be shockingly naive. She would put on a front. She would trick him with the guise of friendliness to preserve her life, and the lives of those she held dear.
"Aww, Faze! Why are you keeping your weapon in that guy? That's gross... put it away before anyone sees. Also," she made herself whine, "Can I have one of the potions? The Bandit got smacked and she needs one. You'll give it to me, won't you?... Thaanks. Hurry up. Let's go back."
"The Goblins gave a report like that?!"
Amidas narrowed his eyes as he rumbled into the communications equipment. It was nearly useless for them to use an encrypted line, as there were hardly any fluent speakers of R'lyean - but they did so regardless. It was best to be safe.
*Indeed sire, I have the witness in prison as we speak. They had claimed this report was meant for you, but were unable to reach you for delivery. There was just a single opponent who took down The Goblin Army, so I flew down to see if I might have been The Hero. I was greeted by some drunken woman, so I highly doubt it - but will follow up regardless. Have you any idea what this might be, Your Majesty?*
Amidas sighed and tapped his clawed hands on the submerged marble throne carved out for him. Daylight filtered in through the slit-like windows and cast eerie patters on the surface of his pool. He huffed out a lungful of bubbles before booming out his response to the microphone positioned at the pool's edge.
"You should not have been so hasty, Cultist. You are a powerful mage, but that boldness might very well be your undoing. The place you visited was my prison for many weeks. The owner of The Compound - as they liked to call it - is a man who controls a Pseudo-Terrarian. He isn't like The Hero, as I suspect he can be killed through traditional means, but nevertheless is a potent offensive threat. Had he been there, even you might have died."
Silence over the line. The Lunatic Cultist pondered for a moment before speaking once more.
*Pseudo-Terrarian? Perhaps Draedon has finally found a way to mimic my magic?! If so, our situation is dire!*
"Dradeon? No. It's doubtful. More likely you had made a miscalculation, creating two Terrarians instead of one."
*Impossible.*
"Perhaps. Regardless, search for your Hero... If you have not found him in three days time, then go to The Compound and fetch the fake - but be cautious as you do so. I cannot afford to lose you for the sake of reviving The Dreaming God."
*Understood your Majesty. Thank you for your concern.*
"Best of luck, Cultist."
Guide: Give me the torch, Slayer.
Slayer: *throwing a tantrum like a baby*
Guide: I'm not even your real dad!
LC: ...keep me out of this.
Plantera looking an awful much like The Dryad :eyes: :eyes:
Boc Next.
say hello to me in rev love