Oh boi a fat one.
Thank you my darling reviewers. You really make my day :)
I love to see your theories for how things will proceed, and when you start predicting what I will do next with startling accuracy, I'm so damn humbled that you read my work so closely. I love you all. :)
Armour: Molten Armour (Vanity - Standard)
Weapon: Uzi (High-Velocity Bullet); Molten Bow (Ichor Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(12/12): Charm of Myths, Ankh Shield, Terraspark Boots, Luxor's Gift, Deific Amulet, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, MOAB, Harpy Ring, Aero Stone, Skyline Wings, Warrior Emblem, Sniper Scope
Health: (400/400)
The air was tinted red.
Dry and ominous in the dim light of dusk.
Every sound that rang out was far too loud and the scent of blood caused each of them to primally understand they were in the lair of a dangerous predator. The whistle of the breeze roared like the crashing of the ocean, filling their ears and grinding on their nerves. Every footstep boomed. Every noise made them jump. The Pirate Captain's armed guards were bunched together, pressed tightly against each other as they moved from cover to cover, approaching the bullet riddled warehouse with clear reluctance.
*...scratch... clank...*
Beside him, The Pirate Captain had lost all his bravado. During their trip across the city, he had lambasted on and on about how well he had guarded 'Dead-Eyes', how he had assigned thirty of his best soldiers to his cage, and how there was scarcely a chance he'd be stolen, much less escape. Of course, The Guide simply sat there and nodded along, knowing full well that The Monster Knight had likely killed everyone on sight the moment he woke up. He hadn't seen the almost-man in combat yet, but considering he'd butchered and army of Goblin soldiers several weeks ago - The Guide was reasonably sure nobody in that warehouse was alive.
*scraaapeee...*
And even though The Guide was quite certain he'd built enough camaraderie with The Monster Knight that he wouldn't be killed, he still couldn't help but taste the terror in the air. After all, he wanted The Monster Knight dead too - and clearly these thirty highly trained soldiers were not enough. What could he do? Poison him? Drug him? Perhaps trap him in The University basement (which had an entrance to the underground jungle temple built in honor of The King) and allow him to be torn apart by spikes and dart traps? Maybe all three? In any case, The Guide did his best to breathe evenly and keep his hands steady as he stood outside The Armoured Van and watched the soldiers wrap tentatively around the building to peek in. A long moment, then - they all retreated. The commander of the guard hurried to The Pirate Captain's side and whispered into his ear. The Guide took a deep breath and gathered his words.
"(mutter... mutter)"
"... All o' them? Can't be!"
"(...)"
The shock on The Pirate Captain's face was enough to tell The Guide exactly what had happened in that ominous warehouse. He took advantage of a lull in the conversation to interject. He made his voice stern, authoritative, and knowing - speaking loudly so that even The Monster Knight (who was surely inside that warehouse) would hear him clearly.
"Well Captain, it appears I have overestimated The Thieves' Guild. I was terribly afraid when I heard you were able to contain 'Dead-Eyes' since, he is so dreadfully strong, but it appears the tables have turned, have they not? I- Ah-ah!"
The Pirate Captain bared his gold studded teeth and seized his pistol to level it at The Guide's forehead. The Guards nearby mimicked him, doing the same so The Guide had the barrels of five guns pressed against varying places on his head. To some extent, The Guide had expected this sort of reaction, and had steeled himself for it (if he hadn't, he might have wet himself) - but staring down the barrel of a gun in theory was far different from doing it in practice. He felt his heart rate spike so dramatically, he briefly feared he'd suffered a momentary heart-attack.
Thankfully, he didn't keel over. Instead, he gulped and made himself laugh, inflating himself with confidence he didn't have. He was speaking too quickly. He hoped The Pirate Captain didn't notice.
"Haha! I wouldn't do that if you want to live. The man you call Dead-Eyes, did you know we used to call him?... 'The Monster Knight'. It's not a name given as some sort of joke, no - he earned that name. Nothing can stand against him in battle. He's slaughtered entire armies on his own... a-and he's my very cherished friend. So before he steps out and sees this, I recommend you holster your weapons. I don't do deals with a gun pointed at my head."
The Guide ended his sentence with a gasp for air, only then realized he'd said all of that in a single breath. Still, he had proposed a deal, he was willing to do business, to negotiate, and thankfully The Pirate Captain seemed equally as eager. He called off his guards and grabbed The Guide by the front of his shirt to assault him with the rank stench of tobacco and rotting teeth. Yet the glimmer of greed was clear as day in The Captain's eye.
"Alright then, scallywag... what kind o' deal do ye wanna make? Your lass, right? Your pink-haired fiance?"
The Guide nodded. He made his demeanor hard.
"She is worth her weight in gold... and just that, do you understand? I'll give you half the sum now, the other half when she is safely returned. I won't be giving you The Knight, but something tells me you'd rather not deal with him anyways."
A long silence. The Pirate Captain grinned. He let got of his collar and patted his lapels flat for him.
"Right y'are laddie. But about yer woman... hmm..."
The Pirate Captain ran his grubby fingers through his scraggly black beard. He appeared to be doing a great number of calculations in his head. The Guide fidgeted in the interim, stealing glances at The Warehouse and trying to imagine what The Monster Knight was doing in there. Was he eating the bodies or something? Why hasn't he come out yet? The Guide's introspections were interrupted by The Captain.
"Now... it ain't often I ask this o' couples, but I need to know - 'ow much does yer woman weigh? I, fer one, am hopin' she be as heavy as a whale - or at least large enuf' she can't walk on 'er own two feet."
The Guide was so startled by such a question, that he couldn't help but stare for a long moment - thunderstruck - before bursting into a nervous laughter. The Pirate Captain joined in, and even The Guards offered a few snickers to the chorus. The Guide stuttered through his response, glad to see the present danger was already gone. It appeared The Pirate Captain was far more interested in lining his pockets than avenging the poor sods he'd sent to babysit The Knight.
"W-well, Captain, perhaps not a whale...(phew) but heavy enough that even my dear Monster Knight refused to carry her when asked. She was in tears for days after that. I... don't think you'll be disappointed in any way, good sir."
The Captain guffawed once more and spat into his hand. He held it out to initiate a handshake. The Guide hesitated before doing the same, wincing then their palms squelched together in a most unpleasant manner. The Pirate Captain grinned, his gold encrusted teeth twinkling in the pale moonlight. High above, Draedon's Eyes - the twin mechanical surveillance moons - hung lower in the sky than usual.
"Well then, Guide... Cheers to the Fat Lady, eh?"
The Guide grimaced at their clasped hands and repeated the sentiment, albeit with much less enthusiasm.
"Cheers to my beautiful fiance."
He was getting worse.
He could see it in his eyes, those flat pale eyes - an unhingedness of one who had relinquished his hold on reality. There was a jitter in his previously smooth movements. His gaze shifted back and forth, focusing and unfocusing on things that weren't there as he methodically worked on the bodies laid neatly beside each other on the concrete floor. A quarter of them were completely naked, the remaining still wore their weapons and Kevlar.
"Knight..."
Thirty bodies, each sporting injuries of increasingly brutality were stretched out in a row, their blood mixing together and draining sluggishly in a trail down toward the south entrance. The fresh corpses filled the air with the smell of iron and fever, the jarring shiver of violence still lingered in the air like a stain, and The Monster Knight - that terrifying creature - was the center of it all.
*scrape... crush*
The almost-man. The Monster Knight. That base, dull creature who knew only to splatter in blood and loot the bodies of his slain. When The Guide approached the open doorway, he was hunched over the sixth corpse in line- his body bowing low and contorting in a way that made The Guide's spine ache. There was no sense of shame in his movements as he stripped the poor butchered soldier of all his prior possessions. The Knight would take everything they had. Their lives, their items, their very dignity.
And...
And there was a certain joy in him as he did it.
The Guide could not see The Knight's face, but the flash of his eyes behind the blood-splattered visor were telling enough. There was a frenzied excitement about him, a bounce and a jitter, a delusional triumph, the unhinged exultation of one slowly coming off of bloodlust and adrenaline.
All of this made The Guide terribly uncomfortable.
He stood there in the doorway, counting his breaths and eyes transfixed on the one he'd spent the whole day arm in arm with. Something cold filled the inside of his head. The heat of searing bile lurched up his throat as he nearly recoiled in shock and revulsion. The Guide 'knew' The Monster Knight was a killer. He had seen the bloodstain in The Compound where 'The Mechanic' has supposedly been killed. He had nearly been killed himself! Of course The Knight had killed before- but knowing and seeing were so, so different.
D-disgusting...
The Guide felt as if he were rooted to the ground. He didn't know if he wanted to cry, or scream, or just run away and throw himself into the peace of unconsciousness...
But he did know this:
Starting now, he despised The Monster Knight.
*... scratch-scrick-*
It was as if a switch had gone off somewhere in the recesses of The Guide's brain. Suddenly, everything about The Knight was loathsome. The way he walked was too smooth, inhuman and robotic and The Guide hated it. How his voice lacked modulation and emotion, how annoying that it could not be drowned out by other noises. How stupidly stubborn he was. How stupid he was. A vile, pathetic creature that knew nothing but to swing his sword and stack bodies atop each other. Was he a curse? Some sort of plague? It was best for him to stay forever in that little circle in The Crimson, playing house by himself until he eventually curled up and died.
"Ah!... Guide!"
It wasn't until The Knight straightened to crush a SWAT Helmet between his palms, that he caught sight of The Guide. He seemed undeterred by the expression on The Guide's face and immediately began trotting towards him, heedlessly stepping on the bodies of his slain as he moved. The Guide barely had time to take a half step back before The Knight threw himself into his arms, wrapping him in that too-tight embrace which bruised his ribs and punched the breath out of his lungs. The Guide gasped and gagged, scrabbling at The Knight's woven cloak until he managed to draw breath.
"You came back!"
"Y-you-"
The Guide narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he unsuccessfully tried to wrench The Knight off of him. After a fair bit of flapping, The Guide set his face like stone and reluctantly made himself endure. He side-eyed the man clutching him about the shoulders and glared. What did that mean, 'you came back?'. Why did The Knight think it appropriate to hug him? For indeed, The Monster Knight was not a touchy person at all. He would not show affection in words, much less physically unless-
"We can g-go home... I can rebuild The Compound here. I won't make the same mistakes as last time. We'll kill anyone who steps foot inside the gates. We can go find The Vulture Headed Mage! There won't be problems... I missed you."
"..."
The Guide blinked. He curled his lip up into a sneer.
Pathetic.
Was that cruel of him? Was he being snobbish, or merciless, or lacking sympathy? The Guide didn't care anymore. This thing had put him through much pain and misery, and he no longer had a single iota of patience left for it. Had The Knight succumbed to some delusion? Was his mind so weak, his willpower so fragile, that he escaped to a fantasy to avoid his reality?! Did he imagine The Guide was his parent? Did he want to be coddled? To be comforted? Be reassured and told everything would be fine?
"Hah!"
What a mockery. There he was, clinging to him, white wings outstretched and beautiful armor glimmering in the watery moonlight, casting an ethereal glow upon the dirty floor. He looked otherworldly, yet - at the same time - base and bestial. Not a fallen angel, but rather a lowly creature who sought to imitate one. In the past, perhaps blinded by curiosity and the sense of adventure, The Guide might have believed it, but now...
Now he saw things plainly.
The Knight was a bloodstained monster.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And no amount of armour polishing was going to change that.
Truly curious.
Curious indeed.
The houses... they are certainly of wood and stone, are they not? Yet they crumble not. They do not burn like the trees surrounding The Compound, or the foliage outside its walls. Beneath the crushing winds and blazing dragon's breath, the windowpanes don't even rattle in their places - much less shatter as he'd expected them to. The Jungle Dragon's scything claws - each as long as the lamp poles which surround The Compound's perimeter - do not even scratch the roof of the little wooden gondola. The floating platforms easily bear full weight of the hundred tonne dragon-phoenix without even the slightest straing upon the plywood.
Of course, Yharon comments on it. The King, similarly intrigued, entertains him
(*Rumble*)
"I've never seen anything like it either... what do you think, my friend?"
(*Grumble*)
"The Resistance Terrarian?! Pray tell, what is your reasoning?
(*Rumble*)
"'What they build cannot be destroyed.' Haha. I interpreted that metaphorically. Now that you mention it, there was a memo one of the agents sent concerning strange happenings at The Crimson Border."
The King sighs and looked about the small compound, stepping off his draconian companion's back and into the charred and blackened grass. He regards the ground with momentary interest. It's perfectly flat, as if the dirt had been compacted and leveled. Each blade of grass, even blackened and smoking, is exactly the same length as every other. How very odd. This place does not follow the typical laws of nature. Perhaps it really is The Resistance Terrarian's doing after all.
How amusing. That The Hero is currently carousing about The Capitol whilst he, the lord of said Capitol, is here, standing in The Terrarian's home. The King smirks wryly beneath his helmet. He draws his ultisword and faces one of the buildings.
(*Rumble*)
"I'm just testing. Let us see how true that rumor is. I've yet to find something I could not break."
...
The King holds his blade aloft. It's a terrifying thing, a blade of bronze and obsidian, steeped in poison and magma. The symbol of The Empire's might and the battle standard of The King. The small tumblers and diodes in his suit begin to spin and whir as they spool up and gather tension. A long silence, then-
*Boooom*
(crumble)
The house is split in two, the house and the retaining wall behind it - crumbling in upon themselves as if the spell holding them together had been broken by the strike's overwhelming force. But something else was crumbling as well. Something barely visible, not a spell, not some incantation... but some sort of natural rule. There is the sound of something vast shattering. The sky fluctuates and cracks appear in it like spiderwebs as - above their heads - a great overarching dome is split in two. The two ethereal halves fall away to nothing.
The air becomes freer.
"... ho."
The King watches and gloats. He turns and climbs back atop his companion, directing him towards the sky with the gesture of his gauntleted hands, chuckling all the way.
"My friend, clearly you underestimate me. I appreciate your concern, but I am at least as powerful as these creatures you seem to fear so much. Frankly, I'm a bit wounded that you think this Terrarian can destroy me so easily..."
(*Rumble*)
"Enough of that. Come, let us return. Rest easy now, for our opponent is found to be sorely lacking."
Yharon: *desperately trying to destroy MK's Gondola*
Yharim: Do you want to know the secret to doing it? Here, lean in, I'll tell you.
Yharon: *leans in*
Yharim: (whispering) ya just gotta git gud.
OoOoOoOo
Idk if yall remember but MK is about... 70-75% Terrarian, and the rest is like dirt and whatever else got caught in the initial summoning spell. Some trees, some rocks, some animals and whole bunch of Dryad Creation Magic (hence the ability to duplicate items). He's kind of a mutt.
Faze is 100% Terrarian.
LOVE YOUALL