(This will take forever if we wait too much, so I will be posting per the old 24 hour rule if I feel it's not a huge impact to a missing player. Miro, lemme know if that's a problem.)
Bella sized up the door, seemingly critiquing it's construction. She ran her hand over it, took a long look at the handle and the lock and after a moment, adjusted where Argent had his spear pointed to lend her some light. She gave him a smile for his trouble.
Settling on a knee, she produced a set of picks from her bustier and set a couple to perch on her lip. She worked the lock with a pair and patiently tried to trip the mechanism, but after one of her picks snapped, she sighed and cursed under her breath. She packed away her tools and stood once more, looking defeated.
(Not at all. Dont let me slow it down. I apologize for my sudden lack of hasty postings. I will try to get one up at least every 24 hours.)
Miroslaw followed the instructions Argent gave and kept an eye on the back of the party. The job of the last person in the line was just as important as the first. An ambush from the back was never a pretty outcome for those being ambushed. After Bella's failed attempt, Miroslaw figured Zarr wasnt likely to break down a metal door and spoke up, "Guess twelve wont be last after all. Shall we head back that way? After checking the end of this corridor that is."
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
He let out a sigh that was both part annoyance, and part relief. This solved the issue of having a door at their back, but left them with an area that would be harder to explore, should their quarry be hiding in there.
He flashed a smile in return at Bella, to let her know his frustration could not POSSIBLY have been with her and turned to face the hall that led off to the side from where they were standing. The map had it marked as a dead end, but best to be safe...
"One of you stay here, just to be sure."
Without waiting to see which would follow and which would stay, he stepped into the hall with the intent of following it around to the deadend and see what, if anything, was there.
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
((If Miro may be gone for the next few days, this wouldn't be a bad idea for him))
Zarr took another look at the metal door, and he knew it would be a bad idea to try and break it down. Something that strong must be hiding something very important behind it. They would have to either wait for someone on the other side to open the door or find the key in one of the other rooms if they were lucky. He turned to look at Miro.
(Will probably only be a moment. An eventless deadend. )
Miroslaw turned to face the direction they came. "I got it." He stared into the darkness, completely alert. Truly, he did not know what may come out of room twelve while they meandered this direction. He began to picture horrible things lurking where he couldn't see. He was spooking himself. On many occasions he thought he actually saw movement in the darkness. Each time, he attributed it to his wild imagination.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Well Argent, along with their only realized light source and along with one of the two bigger people present, wandered away from the door to investigate the corridor shows on the map. They round the corner, the slow trickle of water now around their ankles suggesting some sort of flow-off in this tunnel, likely another grate.
But another noise burbles forth from the darkness, a ragged, torn gurble, a distorted and vaguely human, nightmarish gasp for air that lingers, then twists into a whine. A shuffling accompanies it, then a splash, a dragging, and another horrible whine which then quickly shatters the dark as a moan erupts from the terrifying visage of something vaguely human...
... the twisted abomination, the sadistic and inaccurate reconstruction of a person, or rather people, lunges from the dark and thrashes an arm much too long, snatches with talons not at all natural at Argent, it's eyes black and filled with either pain, pity or rage. Teeth gnash and spew a pustular custard from it's torn lips and quickly, sickly, it shoves off the wall and follows through on it's first assault, closing the gap all too quickly...
He calls out as the appearance of the unnatrual creatures causes him to take a few steps back before he is able to collect himself enough to react.
He steps to one side against the wall, both to open as much of the tunnel for his companion to join in the attack, and to place a solid surface at his flank for what small protection it may provide.
He raises his shield, placing an edge against the wall for added support from what looked to be a powerful blow coming and thrust out with his spear at what seemed to be the head of the creature.
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
The old Soren was slowly walking away from his friend when he heard Argent's call. He rushed over to his aid to spot the abominable creature. It caught him off guard by just watching how ugly and scary it was that he stopped right behind Argent.
By the gods! What is that thing?!
He held both of his axes tight on each hand, but did not act yet. Something that foul gave him a cold feeling on his spine.
Miroslaw remained on guard as his fellows moved to check the dead end. He did not expect much to be there, much like the previous one. The darkness continued to play with his mind. His back was beginning to ache from slouching so long. He just hoped it didn't take his comrades too long to get back.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.