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| == History == | | == History == |
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| The Blood Roads
| | http://www.sigil-planarlegends.com/forum/m/10910028/viewthread/11562695-blood-roads |
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| The walls, their silence is palpable, as I watch the lone light hanging from the ceiling emerging from a candle, surrounded by a metal container suspended by a chain leading towards a grate in the ceiling twenty feet above the floor, that's the exit. I'm fed through there and never see my captor's faces. I landed with a thump and lost consciousness, everything faded to black, the unyeilding floor, cold and solid steel, hurt with a sharp trembling pain through me. I awoke with my shoulder aching, but I rubbed it and looked up as blood was poured through the grate. If there's enough of that, I'll either drown or swim to the top. The possibilities are endless, and it does not appeal to me, being buried in waste, blood and death. Simply because it's not me that's tearing these bastards apart. As they pour it in, it hits my face and I smell terrible things, and look about to the walls.
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| It's right then that the preaching starts and I realize that my damnation isn't far away. "And here we have, the strength, the pride of the orcish race, the heathens, the lost souls, the inbred defilers!" And he just prattles on and on, but the blood doesn't stop pouring. The walls, and I start pounding with my metal fist. They don't sound hollow, but one of them, gives just a little. That's enough for me.
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| My metal fist slams into the metal wall, leaving dents, and I continue bashing against it. The noise is loud, echoing through the chamber, and I only kind of hear their voices getting louder, but what they're saying makes no sense to me. The dents are large, now, and I break through, slamming against stone behind it. The blocks give way, and I smell water, waste and moving air. Behind the stone though, I swear I hear a tapping sound, like a hammer hitting it. I see the floating figure, hammer in hand, and symbols in my head. Shit, I could never read what these bastards were saying, but I'm sure as hells not staying here. Lady of Pain or not.
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| I brush through, but it backs right away from me, without hesitating at all. The blood pours through and it just floats above it, watching it and listening to the crazed deluded voices above us. The new chamber, a hallway, with rushing water, sludge, pours into a reservoir somewhere down a shaft at one end of the hall, and at the other end, there's a way up. I grin and my eyes have long since dimmed upon escaping. The Dabus floats above the blood and continues hammering away at what remains of the wall and I turned to watch. Wait, the hammering, it's trying to remove parts of the wall, or the entire wall. It chinks away at the foundations here, and I'm thinking he wasn't building a wall, he was tearing it down.
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| Hey, I did a good deed, and I look at the empty space around the hold. Something tells me though assisting or getting in a Dabus' way lands me in the Dead Book for sure. Having disregarded me entirely, the Dabus continues to work, and I look towards the stairway up. Time to leave, and let him work down here, poor sot has to deal with this stink. At least, it ain't me. My axes are gone, but all I need is someone to throw around like a mace.
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| The stairway leads to a set of large tunnels, like the sewers underneath the weird shop full of stuffed dead creatures. The thought of a stuffed Vrock made me laugh so hard. Tunnels, sewers, mmm but now their secret's out and I sniff the air, beyond the blood, the waste, strange scents, dabus maybe, jellies too, rats, and I sniff some more, human... I grin and follow the scent.
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| I come to a door set ajar in the stonework of the tunnel and grasp upon the metal handle and tear the thing out with hinges shattering. The sheer force is loud, and I hear footfalls rushing towards the sounds, you'd think they'd be running after what just happened. But casting, that's expected. And weapons clanging against one another, good i could use them. I rush up the new set of stairs, and the staircase creaks and cracks under my weight revealing a network of pipes underneath it. I fall through and managed to find footing on the pipes, as I leap upwards and grasp into the staircase and the wall hauling myself up with a long groan. My muscles hurt and the emerging visage of dark steel and reddish radiating weapons is all that propels me forwards.
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| The violence, the cracking bones, the screams and the great sword in my hand, wrested free from someone's trembling hands, as they grasped at dead air, bulging eyes going dim, still and staring straight ahead. The blade is large and it reminds me of the Hunger Knife I used to wield. Big black ugly thing, that would make those pesky drow pricks turn white, and then they'd fall limp. I leap, large legs propel me up from the wooden floor, as the wood creaks and cracks under my weight, there's a release of air that I swear is a sigh of relief. The sword, raised high over my head, as it comes angled down into a man with a long sword and a shield, he's about 5'5" with blonde hair. His eyes, huge with fright, strike forward with his sword. It fails to strike though my thick hide, as it scrapes against my skin, ripping through the leather. My sword however, it crashes down, impaling my foe, with a sickening crack as I wrest it free from his fallen body.
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| Two large hands pull it up, and out of the body with a jerk, and I see the spells weaved that I had heard casted before, magic; I hate magic. I charge, as fast as I can across the six strides of floor before the spells hit me. I launch my sword forward, hoping to impale someone before my claws reach them. The spells, my head warps, and I'm seeing enemies everywhere. Everyone's angry and coming after me, and I strike at the closest one. They all must die, so many, surrounded.
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| Everything inside is burning, every thought is aflame, boiling, as I burn the sword moves and strikes, as I'm pelted with magical balls from every direction. Bruises, broken skin, so much fire, flames, everywhere... the blood, the spilling red sea, I see it spew out of someone's neck. Blood, so much, and they're yelling but I can't understand a word. I leap, I move, so many hands grasping at me, white hands in black robes. Trying to get me, contain me, the red hot furnace within me is all I can think of. All I can see is the blood soaked floor, and I'm bashing someone to pieces, bashing.. the man, his chest, his head, his arms... and I keep hitting him, slamming the blade against his black robed body, again, again, and again!
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| The meat packing sound of broken bones, breaking flesh, and splattering liquid is all I can see, until a voice catches my ear, something that echoes in the room. "Infidel!" I hit the dead body a few more times before looking up, the red in my eyes is still red hot, I feel it. The cauldron of flame that never extinguishes. I turn my head, he's large, a huge hulking creature with an orcish face. Good, someone fun and destructive.
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| Dressed in dark shining armor, with a great sword of his own, he stands like a statue of stone, but with a piercing glare in my direction. As the bloody violent scene played itself out, as I heave my breaths out from the many wounds. But I'm not through yet, because he stands in my way to freedom. I wrench the sword free from the dead body, with a thump, the remains of the bald guy is on the floor in pieces.
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| Stride towards him on both of my huge feet, clanking on the floor, as the spell ends my mind clears. The fire's over now, at least, until I stoke the embers and the churning oven within me cranks up the heat once more. "You kill them! Everyone?!" He shouts, angry, trying to scare. I respond in orcish, the harsh guttural sounds, are thoroughly angry. "Run or die you orcish worm! I come, I slay, these bastards all gonna pay!" I even rhyme. His voice is full of the righteous anger of our shared blood, but he's hesitating before striking. How odd, maybe he expects me to run off? He's phased, so I bring my blood soaked great sword with both hands towards him and charge. His face changes, as my eyes burn deep red. He's backing away, but not nearly fast enough.
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| My feet lunge forwards, as I bring the sword to my side again, and prepare for a swipe. My feet leave the air in a sudden rush, as my sword swings, he reacts put on the defensive at first. It clangs heavily against his sword, but then his eyes are frightened. Something about this isn't working out the way he planned, something's deeply wrong but what that is, he can't quite place it. His face is fearful, as I scream in some indecipherable tongue, the sound echoes off the walls and into his wilting ears.
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| He runs like the smart coward he is. And I just let out the biggest laugh, I'm hurting all over and just laugh even more. Heck, the pain is keeping the beast at bay. I look around, blood soaked room, broken limbs everywhere, broken furniture, and now I'm lost. Do I exit through the sewers or? I take a look around the room, doorways open into bedrooms, but I don't see any windows out, or any boards covering windows. I see another into a room of steel, and there I see a grate covered in blood with a pail beside it.
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| Mm... guess it's back out to chase down the lone idiot half orc. I turn and walk back down the stairs towards the tunnel, and the water running towards the reservoir with a sigh. I smell crap, waste, blood and sewage. If only there was another door out of here, since I hardly want to expose my many wounds to numerous infections. Yes, see, I care about this because it's the small things that get you. I search the bedroom for my twin axes and my stuff is there, stashed away. I get my stuff on, at least, only to break open my potion collection. Enough to heal the wounds I've sustained and enough for a few other surprises. Looks as though I'm going down and I pass the Dabus who again completely ignores me, as he hammers away. What he's hammering makes no sense to me, but I reach the end of the tunnel and I spy a pool of... stuff down below me.
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| I won't go into detail here, there's no point. Suffice to say, I itch and ache all over and smell even worse. And I never saw that ugly half orc again. Another thing escaped my notice, what those black robed bastards were actually doing? Who they were, what they worshiped, if anything. And also how to get back to that spot, secluded and cut off. How'd they get all that stuff without some sort of ... alternate exit. I had to wonder.
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| I ended up just killing a whole room full of people chanting away, terrified of me. And I had no idea who or what they were on about. It doesn't particularly shock me, as surprise me. Consequences from this, I can imagine. Some half orc is telling tales of a crazed creature with glowing red eyes. Further thought about him was tinged with regret, I should not have let him go. But it was so damn funny at the time to see a half orc lose his nerve and scamper off like a rat fleeing a sinking ship. I make a mental note not to let laughter get the better of me next time. Murder feels far better, I agree.
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| [[Category:Character_Profiles]] | | [[Category:Character_Profiles]] |