Not even sure if I'm on time anymore lmao. But I have three sections today because I want to move faster. I did a lot of procrastination lmao - but in my defense I was hashing out story for the next ten or so chapters.
enjoi
Armour: Broken Victide Armour (Ranger)
Weapon: [UNUSABLE]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: (30/400)
Travelling was her second favorite activity. She loved striding down those cobblestone throughways as the sun beat down on her pitch black robes. Men and women, child and beast, all parted before her as she passed. She relished the gazes that were cast her way, the fear in their eyes made her feel powerful; their terror made her secure. She was a servant of The King, The high and mighty Jungle Tyrant, and she wore her lord's insignia proudly.
(look at that… you see that?)
Of course she was proud! Why wouldn't she be? There was not a soul that showed her any semblance of dignity before The King chose her, accepted her. Without her King, she would have died a starving orphan, sniveling in the streets. Her parents had abandoned her at a young age, casting her into the cold with nothing but a loaf of bread and the clothes on her back. She had cried then, barely a toddler - she clung to her loaf until it was soaked through with tears. How long did she wait there on the street corner, a shivering and sickly beggar? A month? A year? She clung to life, even as she yearned for death. At six years old, she had already resigned herself to the grave's icy grip.
(Shit… Clandestine Corps? Are you kidding me?)
Yet, it was not to be. That man in glorious golden armour - her King had rescued her. As she laid eyes on him, her spirit was revived. She saw him pass by from her miserable corner, a figure of wrath walking through the village, desolation blooming in his wake. He was a behemoth, and he mercilessly crushed everything that stood before him. He razed down the village which had scorned and spit upon her.
Oh, how enamored she was as she watched him slaughter. Her heart leapt within her tiny chest, and joyful tears welled behind her eyes. As if possessed, she stood to her feet and tottered behind him him. Her pale knees knocked together as she walked amongst the soldiers; her arms were as thin as twigs and her rags were rotting off her skeletal frame, yet still she picked up a fallen knife and followed…
And to this day, she continued to follow. Her loyalty would not die… for her life was no longer hers. Even through the pain of her training, through the nights where she suffered under Draedon's experiments, she willed herself to live. She wished to serve her King, to pour herself out for his sake. Whoever he loved, she loved. Whoever he hated, she hated.
(One of those Yharim scum. Boys… c'mon. Let's do the Resistance a favour)
...And those who would dare slander her lord, she would crush without mercy. Travelling was her second favorite activity. Killing Resistance members, tearing out their blasphemous tongues, was her favorite. The King had never asked the Clandestine Corps to defend his name. It was simply something they were expected to do - and it was her pleasure to enforce respect in this pathetic country's peoples.
"You!"
Ah. Finally. She had been waiting for this. Only the citizens of tiny backwater towns would dare challenge a member of King Yharim's secret service in this day and age. It had been a long, long while since she was given the opportunity to put her strength on display in such a public setting. She craned her neck to look up at the aggressor. Her fingers grasped involuntarily; she could barely contain her excitement.
"You've got so nerve walking 'round these parts wearing that Damn Tyrant's crest, lil lady."
Today's victim was a burly looking man with an impressive beard. He had stalked up to her and was glaring down his nose. His frame was much larger than hers, nigh blotting the sun from her comparatively slight body; she felt his disgusting breath ruffling the tops of her bright pink locks - which poked from beneath her cowl. He couldn't see the wicked smile that had turned the corners of her mouth. If he had, he might have thought twice about challenging her.
"You best leave, scum."
"Ya don't wanna get hurt now… gimme that crest. Hands in the air!"
Two more men approached from behind; one had a crowbar slung over his shoulder, the other was brashly polishing a shotgun. Clearly none of them have seen a member of Yharim's Clandestine Corps in action. They didn't know the power that, after much painful experimentation, now ran through her veins. She had torn a warhorse asunder with her bare hands.
And she was going to do the same, right here. Right now. In front of all the spectators which were peeking from the darkened windows of their homes. They were all cheering against her, and she would do her duty and slay their hope.
She knew she had a mission, to research the strange phenomenon at the Crimson Border... but she could always make time to put the fear of her god into the hearts of these worms!
The Compound was cold and silent, yet not one resident slept that night. Each of them wondered, fearful, of what would come next now that they had made The Monster Knight (and by extension The Tyrant King) their enemy. How close they had been to victory, yet freedom had slipped from their grasps. It was imperative they plan their next steps carefully for their situation was growing increasingly dire. The lives of 7 people rested on his shoulders, so although he was tired from the day's activities, The Demolitionist blinked the sleep from his eyes and continued to pore over his collection of maps.
"Ah, a safehouse here… twenty miles north from this place. I can call a Resistance escort for us once we reach it. I can also request a med team for our injured - the pink-haired lady certainly needs some more serious attention. Yer Majesty, I know you don't like to travel on land much, but I must impose on you."
A deep voice responded, carrying distorted from the watery throne.
"Don't mind me, Dwarf. The twenty miles is not an issue. It is the first hundred metres you should be concerned about."
"Hm."
The Demolitionist nodded and sighed. He was holed up in the dry portion of Amidas' castle and was busy hashing out his 'survival' plan with the Sea King. Thus far, they had few options. Based on the information they had collected, Nobody had since been able to leave the compound unaccompanied by The Monster Knight. This included The Guide, whom The Arms Dealer had reported seeing wandering, confused about the border. Killing the brat would do them no good.
What a mess… phew. I know Yharim'll surely be here soon to interrogate me for Resistance trade routes. I'm sure he will also want to kill Amidas as well… time is short…
The Demolitionist pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered to himself, voicing his thoughts aloud in an attempt to find a solution.
"So the only way out is to either kill the Knight, or get escorted by the bastard… could we trick it?"
The Sea King's voice reverberated through the water, and then the retaining glass, in response.
"Perhaps it would have entertained a pretense before you attacked it. But certainly not now. Terrarians are notoriously vengeful and this one is prone to violence. Your Monster Knight will be back, and soon. I assure you it will not be happy."
"True... tru-huh?"
The Demolitionist froze and looked up to stare at The Sea King's watery form. Had he misheard? No. His voice was incredulous.
"...Terrarian? Yer Majesty, did ya just say 'Terrarian'?"
A slight pause. The Sea King's speech was emphatic.
"I did, Dwarf."
"What!? We're fighting a fooking Terrarian?!"
"Indeed. Worry not-"
The Demolitionist was struck by an uncharacteristic bolt of terror. Perhaps the long day of stress had weakened his mental state to the point where he interrupted The Sea King with a rather hysterical rant.
"'Worry not'?! Are you kidding me?! Those bastards are invincible! Why the fuck didn't ya tell us! Have you heard what The Resistance is saying about our 'Hero'?! He's a Terrarian that doesn't die no matter how many times ya kill 'em! How are we supposed to fight tha-!"
"Silence."
The command hit him like a physical blow. The Demolitionist instinctively shut his mouth and pressed his lips together as he glared through the glass. He had heard stories of Amidas being a brilliant tactician… but perhaps he had gone senile after all these years? The Sea King hadn't stopped them from attacking Terrarian, and that's why they were now stuck in this situation. What cause could possibly justify The Sea King allowing them to make such a blunder?
The Sea King seemed to read the thoughts out of his mind. He responded with cold scorn.
"Perhaps you think I've gone senile, Dwarf, but I assure you 600 years is merely middle aged for my species. I did not make any blunders. I send you conduct an execution, but you managed to fail. Now, you dare raise your voice before me?"
"..."
The Sea King's language was fierce, but voice and face remained rigid, calm and unchanged. The Demolitionist was unsure if he had truly angered the Sea King or not, but decided it was best to stay silent. The Sea King continued to speak, his tone made it clear he was not to be questioned any further.
"The Monster Knight is not a true Terrarian. It's a magical abomination - either an abandoned experiment or a summoning gone wrong. An unstable, violent creature who boasts incredible offensive capability - but as you can see, is maimed and bleeds like any normal man. If killed, it most likely cannot revive. If the war were not already underway, I would most certainly have trained The Monster Knight up as an asset to The Resistance - but it already belongs to The Guide. Winning it over will take a great deal of time and energy, of which I have neither. Listen Dwarf."
Amidas floated off his throne and, with a powerful flick of his tail, approached the glass barrier to stare coldly down at The Demolitionist. While The Sea King ambulated on land with his tail scrunched up beneath him, he was easily six to seven feet tall (depending on how much effort he put into remaining upright) - but underwater, one saw the entirety of his twenty foot length. He was truly an imposing figure, and although The Demolitionist was himself a soldier, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit intimidated.
Amidas boomed at him.
"Yharim is my goal, and I am not afraid to make sacrifices to kill the Tyrant. Time is of essence, so this is what must happen. You must deliver me to Statis and Braelor as soon as possible that I may assist in their stratagems. Do not worry about the rest of the people here, and especially not the ill and crippled. You have one goal. Accomplishing it will do more for The Resistance than all of your past achievements combined. Do you understand me? No matter how ruthless you are, no matter how many innocent lives you take - as long as you bring me to The Resistance everything is justified."
"..."
The Demolitionist blinked, then sucked in a breath. He would never have guessed The Sea King to be so merciless - but then again, a king and a commander could only be compassionate during peace and prosperity. There were times where a king would send their soldiers to die - to sacrifice them necessarily for the greater good. The Demolitionist had received orders like this before, and he knew how dirty things could get when morals flew out of the window.
But things are already incredibly dirty…
"Dwarf, listen."
The Demolitionist startled to attention. The Sea King had fixed him in that cold, deep gaze. His voice was sharp.
"The first order of business is to find a method for the two of us to escape this compound alive. Ideally, assign somebody to search for a way for us to leave without having to kill The Slayer. Otherwise, you must set another trap with The Guide as bait and kill The Slayer for good. The Guide is our greatest asset at this time; he must remain alive so long as his Knight remains a threat. Understood?"
"Yes Sir."
"I recommend you begin rigging The Guide's residence."
"Yes Sir."
"He'll try to interfere. Break an arm or two."
"Yes Sir."
"Nurse?"
It was already well past midnight, and having tired of standing vigil at the border The Arms Dealer had come to check on The Nurse. She had exploded at him earlier for trying to kill her science experiment (her nickname for The Monster Knight), but her tantrums were always short lived. She was a temperamental woman, but a scientist at heart. She could always be reasoned with. Normally The Arms Dealer wouldn't have bothered her so late at night, but the lights and noise in her house indicated she was awake and likely in need of assistance. He was about to raise a hand to rap at the door when a loud crash, followed by colorful profanity, resounded throughout the building.
"Nurse?!"
Panicked, The Arms Dealer set aside formalities and shoved the door open to rush inside, halfway expecting to see The Nurse squashed beneath a bookcase. Instead, she was standing atop it in her signature red stilettos and waving about a pair of handcuffs like a battle standard. (The Arms Dealer briefly wondered why she had handcuffs so readily available, but banished the thought). She pointed at the floor - at some scuttling something - and screeched.
"Deeaaaler! Grab it!"
"Uwah!?"
Now, The Arms Dealer was a well traveled man. He had seen his fair share of strange things in his day, and it took a great deal to leave him flabbergasted. However, when he saw a severed arm scampering at him like an armoured spider, he could only stare dumbly at it until it vaulted up and punched him in the kneecaps, hard.
"Dealer! Catch that fucking thing!"
"Ow! Fuc- Nurse! What the hell! Why is it alive!"
"I don't know! Grab it, damn you!"
At The Nurse's frantic prompting, The Arms Dealer sighed and made a grab for the rapidly scurrying hand. It was still dressed in remnants of The Monster Knight's (rather sharp) armour, and jumped and leapt about with an unnaturally mobility - as if attached to an invisible body. It likewise struck with much more weight than its size merited, and the fact it was essentially wearing brass knuckles meant this little creature was going to be quite troublesome. Thoroughly disgusted, The Arms Dealer braced himself, dove for the arm, seized it by its stump (which had thankfully healed over and was no longer a bloody mess) and took a solid blow to the jaw for his troubles.
"Gah! Damn!"
The Arms Dealer held the severed limb aloft as it flailed wildly, grasping, squirming and striking blindly at whatever it could reach. The Nurse quickly hopped up and fastened one end of the handcuff about it's wrist. The other end was attached to a long chain which had been slung over one of the rafters. With a quick tug, the misbehaving arm became a misbehaving - but harmless- ceiling ornament.
The pair of them watched the flailing limb for a few moments longer before addressing each other. The Nurse wiped the sweat from her forehead and offered him a triumphant grin. He rolled his eyes in response, and massaged his sore chin.
"Phew, Good work Dealer. Hehe, I've never owned a pet before. This is gonna be my first."
"...You're not serious, are you?"
She laughed, bright and cheery.
"Of course not. I'm going to dissect it."
He rolled his eyes again and huffed. Although he wasn't particularly happy getting beaten up by a severed arm, he was glad that he had taken the blows instead of The Nurse (her frame was far more fragile than his). He stooped down to pick up a broken chair's leg and poked the arm. It whipped around and seized it out of his grasp before crushing it into woodchips.
"Dissect it? Figures. Well, you best… sedate it first. But Nurse - why is it alive?"
The Nurse was more than happy to explain her speculations. Her response rapidly devolved into incomprehensible jargon.
"It's medically impossible as the arm has neither a source of oxygenated blood nor any neural input, however since it can fucking see and run around like a little rat, I can only assume it is somehow attached to The Slayer's main body via metaphysical means. This could also be magic, but I'm pretty sure that Science Experiment doesn't have enough brainpower to toast a slice of bread, much less learn any high level summoning spells. It also seems to have some of my specimen's regeneration ability, as it healed up its stump wound over the past few hours - but as you can see - it's missing its four and fifth fingers, which are also alive. They're not nearly as active; I'm keeping them in little worm jars on my windowsill-... (etc)"
The Arms Dealer stared blankly at her. He initially dismissed her rambling as a medical professional's lecture, but after a moment, he began to think. He recalled watching The Guide wander about the border, seemingly shocked with his entrapment. Evidently he had never encountered this barrier before; he was nearly always accompanied by his Knight. The Monster Knight was the 'key' to leaving the prison...
And we already tried to kill him, so he certainly won't escort us out… but perhaps-
The Arms Dealer tilted his head and carefully observed the flailing arm. Would such a thing work? It wasn't technically The Monster Knight, bit it was worth a shot. He turned his attention to The Nurse who was still attempting to explain her various theories concerning the severed limb.
"Interestingly enough, the fingers seem to possess much less vigor than this larger chunk of him, but I haven't gotten around to trying to re-attach the fingers. I was considering trying something with my current patient- "
"Nurse."
"who's doing better but still catatonic, thanks for aski- hm?"
"Nurse, let's take a walk in the woods… with your new pet."
Nurse: "The fuck do you want?"
Arms Dealer: "I need to talk to you..."
*glass breaks*
N: "Again?!"
AD: ?!
Severed Arm: *on top of a shelf, above a shattered vase*
Nurse: "You're worse than a cat! Get back in your kennel."
SA: *miserably flops off the shelf and inches away*
AD: "You have that thing in your house?!"
(Thank RevenantSaint for this funni idea)
Notes: Soooo, uh. More Slayer next chapter. It's gonna focus a tad bit more on the escape attempt over the next few chaps though. Imagine you're a Terraria NPC trying to fight the player character at this point? RIP. Let me just write a little chart to make it clear who is where. hopefully it'll help you keep stuff straight.
*Guide: KO tied to his dining room chair. Demo is gonna torture him pretty soon because he thinks he's Yharim's prison warden. He's also a hostage. Good luck bby!
*Slayer: Crawling around in the crimson feeling like shit. got his leg (its better behaved than his arm lmao)
* Ammy: In his castle, planning the death of The Slayer, but is not actually in any danger if Slayer comes back and kills the ppl who tried to kill him. Knows The Guide will not let him die. Really wants to head to Resistance.
*Demo: Simps for Ammy, taking orders. Will abandon his buds if nescessary to get Ammy to Resistance.
*Merchant: Standing Guard over The Guide, and isn't gonna let him out this time
*Nurse & Arms Dealer: Walking the Arm
*Stylist: KO
*Dryad: on her way
*Yharim's Spy: on her way
*Travelling Merchant: on his way