Escape from Ironheart

[Inspectre]

/ooc Your right shoulder. ooc/

[Dunin Hemm]

Faruk looks up as the door opens and narrows his eyes at the ruckus. The man is a beast, thrashing and snarling, proving a difficulty even for four men to handle. The Southron pulls back at the smell of the man's stench as he is lead by, revolted by the creature. Then again, the past months have introduced Faruk to many new kinds of odours, so he fights down the nausea and instead turns his attention to the next man brought in. It becomes evident just what kind of creature this madman is, if the guard's chatter isn't enough to tell.

Faruk frowns as the guards unchain him and tell him what is about to happen. The time to fight comes sooner than he would have thought, evidently. Strange, he has fought many, but as he is brought out onto the Arena, his stomach clenches up in nervousness. Calm yourself, he whispers. You slew an elephant, this is nothing compared to that. He takes a deep breath of the warm air and tries to focus.

As he is introduced to the Pit, he snorts in disappointment. This arena will benefit his opponent more than him; this will take a lot of effort to get out of alive. "Pick a weapon and get down there," the guard orders him with a crossbow pointed at him. Faruk glances at the man before striding over to the rack. Low quality galore. He carefully looks through the sortiment, deciding at last upon something looking like a hoplite sword. Short and heavy: Perfect for a close-combat duel.

He approaches the Pit, looking down at his enemy with both apprehention and contempt. The rage ravaging the man's body pulsates from almost tangibly. Sighing, Faruk moves over to the ladder and begins to climb down. The Animal is waiting by the end of it, and Faruk hesitates. Then, suddenly, he leaps away from the ropes and right down upon his opponent, one heel first, aiming at the man's face.

/ooc: Feel free to resolve this match by yourself: No need to draw it out over several DMs while others are waiting to use the Pit.

[Fluffie]

...bitches like it rough.

Tristram was beaten up. Again. The how manieth time was this? Probably too much. Even though Olbaid had tried, oh how hard that old chap had tried, the man played with respect. These worthless ****s here, however... Heh, he'd be damn well suprised if they even knew what respect was.

OH YES! These bitches like it rough.

Somewhere along the line, say, right about now, Tristram was pretty sure he felt like vomitting. Throwing up in a real big and messy way, spraying his goo all across this forsaken planet, melting the skin of these shitheads' corpses with it. He could do that, he was pretty sure of that, if only they would be kind enough to take off this bloody gag.

Aawwww **** this..

That last one really hurt. Hitting a soft spot that had already been beaten a gazillion times before... Even if these guys played unfair, that bloody well was just foul play. But these bitches'd pay. Oh yes, one day, hopefully soon enough, they would be on the receivin' end, wearing either their own hides as imminent doom introduced itself... or they would serve to live out some of Tristram's own sick fantasies.

Maybe he could dial Olbaid's number...

No, wait..

Red crystal..

Oh, looks like they weren't finished after all.

Fu.. FUC..

A blow on the head disturbed his train of thoughts, something important knocked out of his mind, just like that. But at least the beating had stopped, which counted as a good thing for the very least.

Glaring angry at one of the guards, but doing so in very secret, he stands in line and walks along. The guards, oh yes, would pay, but right now, Tristram had some rocks to deal with. Everyone knew the rocks were the real bad guys around here......

[Kal'rek]

Originally Posted by Inspectre

Kal’rek

Dazed by impact of your head against the cell door, you simply curl up on the floor and wait for the guards to come drag you away. You can see them currently working on your “savior”, manacling his hands together before dragging him away to the Arena. A few moments later, you hear the door to your cell shriek open. “Wakey wakey.” The guard snarled. Reaching down, he grabs the collar of your tunic, and hauls you up onto your feet that way. You can then see it’s the same guard who has been mistreating you all along. He smiles at you, then swings you around and throws you out of the cell, causing you to land rather awkwardly and painfully on the hard floor (you were getting awfully sick of being thrown around and slammed into things, but for now your God had told you to hold back on your retribution, and so you would . . . for now). “On your feet, elf! You wanted to go to the Arena, so to the Arena you go!” The guard barks, as two other guards roughly drag you back up onto your feet. Once back on your feet, the two guards shove you in front of them, and follow you out of the Torture Chamber, while the first guard leads after shutting your cell door again. As he leaves, the guard grabs a torch off of the wall, using it to light your way through the dark corridors of the Third Floor. Eventually, the four of you make you way up to the Arena section, and the guards direct you into some sort of waiting room. In this room are a number of long benches, with all sorts of prisoners chained to them, all of them likely waiting for their chance to be sent in the Arena, or judging by the looks of some of them, having just come from there. Seeing an empty spot right next to your new “friend”, the guards prod you over to the seat right next to him, seat apparently being the guard’s operative word for the metal rings bolted into the benches at regular lengths. From the looks of it, the guards secured most of the prisoners by sitting them down over the rings, uncuffing one of their manacles, passing it through the ring, and then reattaching it to their wrist. The guards attempted to do the same thing with you, although they quickly discovered that your apparently custom-fit manacles didn’t have a long enough chain to allow that. Exasperated, one of the guards puts all the blame on you, back-handing you and calling you the ever-familiar moniker “filthy elf b*tch”. The other two guards are a bit more constructive, leaving to return a minute later with a set of regular manacles. It then takes them only a minute to switch the manacles and have you chained to the bench like the other prisoners, finally leaving you in relative peace. There are several other prisoners nearby, other than your “savior” chained right next to you, but all of these are human, and most of them are looking at both of you with a look of pure hatred.

/occ Feel free to chat it up with Zappa, or attempt to communicate with one of the other nearby prisoners, while I finish up the current Arena match of Dunin vs. The Animal. Shouldn’t take long. ooc/

The guards stupidity with her cuffs brought a sly smile to Seliina’s lips. They were truly incompetent though, strong. She remembered a time a while ago when it was a good trait to be light and nimble, but now it only makes it easier for the guards to throw her around.
It was easy to see the hatred in her fellow prisoners as she was ‘sat down.’ There were various curses and mutterings oozing from dry lips and a few seamed to be talking at the elf that had been in the torture chamber with her.
“Well done, you may as well have just collapsed or fainted again, I would have done better without your help.” Seliina muttered to (zappa) Beside her.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

*yawns*

oh? what? oh, you're here too... heheh... naah, trust me, I have a plan

[flapjack]

Flapjack immediatly took his chance, trying to use his feet to get the keys from the guard, and if he didn't carry any keys, to get 1 of the sleeker daggers.
Flapjack then swung his feet up, literally doubling up while using 1 hand to hold the collar and keep it from strangling himself, at the same time grabbing the keys/dagger with his other hand and setting to work on the locks, starting with his little necklace (I don't know if that can be unlocked, or if it'll have to be broken, if it has to be broken, I'll just get the chain holding me to the wall lose), then moving on to his manacles

Now with both feet firmly on the ground, Flapjack looted a couple of extra daggers and stepped towards the door, trying to see if he could see some of the guards from here, and more importantly, how big the chance was they'd see him if he tried to leave his temporary quarters

[Hawk101]

"Rite skinni, iam getin bored, got anyone 'o want to die ?" Hawk grins brightly eying the coughing man in front of him,
"Oy, Gardies, just a weed like 'im eh ?"

[Bakan]

Listening to Dr. Krankov talk to his notetaker about how the better living conditions would be harmful to his experiments, Bakan sighed to himself. When he first was taken prisoner, he attempted to make a case to the Doctor how they were meddling with forces beyond his control. The response was Dr. Krankov seeing how long it took for Bakan’s vocal cords to heal themselves after having them severed by one of the Malevolent Seven. These thoughts promted Harvey to come out of the hole that Bakan attempted to keep him in most of the time.

It’s inevitable, you know . . . hissed Harvey. Piece by piece, bit by bit, you are turning into me. Its not all bad . . . human flesh tastes quite sweet, once you get used to it . . . especially off of females.

Looking at the notetaker, Bakan felt his stomach grumble almost painfully. When he first arrived, the killing of rats disgusted him at first, but very quickly he learned that he simply had to eat. And since the guards took perverse pleasure in rationing his food to as little as possible, anything that had protein and was edible tasted so sweet, even the blood that one time…..

Hearing Dr. Krankov mention something about showing him something, and gesturing him to the chair, Bakan complied, under the watchful eye of the Malevolent Seven, whom had their crossbows out and aimed at him constantly. As two of them painfully strapped him in, Bakan remembered the other times he was strapped into a similar chair. Usually it was due to Dr. Krankov being bored with physical torture, and sometimes it was more effective. The times that Harvey managed to gain control was due to Bakan being weakened, either through drugs or torture, and Harvey taking the chance and gaining control. In a way, Harvey wanted Bakan to live, which made Bakan wonder most of the time what would happened if he died, would Harvey die as well? Hearing Dr. Krankov mentions something about his family, Bakan’s thoughts returned to the present. When he went “missing”, he had just gotten word that his oldest son was killed serving the King, and his youngest was of a tender age of 10. Hearing that his wife died due to his disappearance, he wondered how much truth was in Dr. Krankov’s words, but looking at him, Bakan saw that Dr. Krankov was not lying in the part that his wife was dead. Hearing about his son, and how he was nothing more than a petty lowlife made him start feeling anger. Normally Bakan forced himself to be emotionless, for it seemed that Harvey gained strength with strong emotions, in particular anger.

Still listened, he felt along with anger a deep rooted fear when Dr. Krankov mentioned that his son had children. Envisioning tearing out the Doctor tongue, ”along with eating it raw, with a light sprinkle of blood” added Harvey, Bakan turned to face the door as some of the Malevolent Seven opened it and shoved in someone. Obviously female, obviously very young, what made Bakan suck in a surprised breath were her eyes. Her eyes looked like those that he had looked into any mirror, piercing green that seemed to dive right into ones soul. Her face as well, Bakan could clear see where she took after her grandmother, and with that thought knew that Dr. Krankov was not lying when she was his granddaughter, and started to fear for her safety. Listening to Dr. Krankov say how Bakan was an interesting person, Bakan knew what was going to happen. His fears were confirmed when Dr. Krankov hit his granddaughter with a powerful blow, sending her spinning into the clubs of the Malevolent Seven.

I’ll be here when you want me. Harvey hissed as Bakan watched Luther strike his granddaughter across the face, sending blood and teeth flying. Bakan hissed, and started straining against his bonds, which despite being in a normal human form, were designed to hold him in place. Pretty please added Harvey as his granddaughter fell to her knees, her face a mass of bruises and cuts, clutching her stomach and sobbing uncontrollably. Bakan started to growl, and felt Harvey grow larger, coming more and more out. Closing his eyes, Bakan wished for a second that this was all just a bad dream, that he would awaken, and the past several years never happened. Opening his eyes again, he saw his granddaughter being held up, now unconscious, with another member of the Malevolent Seven aimed his crossbow at her. With sugar on top Harvey finished as the crossbow fired. Bakan knew at that instant his granddaughter would die, and watched with wide open eyes, mouth open in a screamless shout at the bolt traveled through air, easily tearing through his granddaughter, splattering blood over the area and onto Bakan’s face. Feeling the warm liquid as the shock of the crossbow bolt tearing into her brought his granddaughter out of her beaten unconsciousness, and she screamed while being tossed onto the Bakan’s lap. Looking at her, Bakan saw her blink slowly, and then her eyes glazed over. Bending his head down a little, Bakan closed his eyes, letting a single tear escape, which fell all so slowly onto the head of his granddaughter, wishing to die next to her.

Oh well, looks like it’s a bit too late for her went Harvey, as Bakan watched Luther taunt him. All Bakan heard was the rushing sound of his blood pumping, feeling it heat up with rage, with anger. Anger about being treated like a lab rat, for all that he did for this nation, anger about his life being stolen, anger about the tortures, anger about Harvey, and a deep loathing anger for Dr. Krankov for arranging the death of his granddaughter. Watching Luther reload his crossbow, to Bakan’s eyes time seemed to slow. He saw in perfect detail drops from the wound on his granddaughter fall to the ground, each drop wavering as it fell. He saw the blood drip from the clubs of the Malevolent Seven. Finally, he saw Dr. Krankov, standing there, looking as smug as could be, yet somewhat disappointed that Bakan didn’t transform yet.

Harvey spoke Bakan inside his head, knowing that the dragon would be there. I no longer care. I tried to protect these fools long enough from you. For all I care, they now deserve what they are about to get. Give it to me, give it all to me now!” Rather than give him a straight out answer, Bakan sensed Harvey smile, and started to feel life in his muscles, strength, power, along with his mind slowly slipping into the background.

I’ll let you have a passenger-side view of this, to show you the power you will be sharing. went Harvey as Bakan’s vision started to go red.

Just wait…… one minute….. let me…… say something……to Dr Krankov…. Feeling Harvey nod, Bakan looked right into Dr. Krankov eyes.

“Dr. Krankov, do you really want to see it? The thing you’ve been torturing my ass for? Torturing me, my granddaughter, killing her? Do you want to see it?”

Dr. Krankov looked at Bakan startled, for normally the only words Bakan had for him were screams of agony.

“Yes.”

“Then say please”

“Please”

“Pretty please.”

“Pretty please.”

“With a cherry on top.”

“With a cherry on top.”

“Happy birthday. Now get out of my sight.”

Blinking in surprise, Dr. Krankov took a step back as Bakan’s head fell forward. Thinking fast, he gestured to Luther, who obediently raised his crossbow. Bakan meanwhile started growling, a sound that started as barely audible, slowly deepening in depth and gaining volume. The scales along his back started to grow out, expanding as new scales started to form, covering more and more of his body. His hands clutched into tight fists, the knuckles popping loudly, then his head raised up in the blink of a eye, the formerly sharp green eyes, now the whites turned into blacks, and the pupils, a bright fiery red as scales formed around them.

“Can the Doctor come out and play? spoke Harvey, now piloting Bakan’s body.

“SHOOT HIM!!!” screamed Dr. Krankov, to which Luther pulled the trigger to the crossbow, sending the poison-tipped bolt towards Bakan’s torso. The bolt flies true , piercing the front of Bakan’s chest and into him. The only response is a grunt, that is followed by a loud roar that no human throat should be capable of making. Pulling out his sword, Mathers rushed forward, only to stop as Bakan’s left arm tears free from the straps and grabs onto his throat. Harvey then tears through the rest of the straps, moving in the blink of a eye, his head next to Luther, his teeth, elongating and sharpening, brushed against Mathers ‘sear.

”First mistake, last mistake.” whispered Harvey, before biting down. Mathers ‘s screams then fill the chamber as his ear is easily bitten off. Harvey, chewing quickly, swallows the ears, enjoying the taste of human flesh, for it has been so long, oh so long ago. Still holding onto Mathers, it seems Mathers finally got the smart idea to try swinging his sword. His right hand, holding the sword rushes forward, only to be caught by Harvey’s right arm, stretched across his stomach, holding it from his stomach.

”Time to reap the sow.” whispered Harvey, though he doubt that Mathers could hear through the ruins of his ear. Harvey’s hands were starting to become more scaly, claws forming instead of fingers, claws that started to draw blood from Mathers. Looking up and past him, Harvey watched the six other member of the Malevolent Seven. While the tortures were designed to bring him out from the pathetic fool Bakan, they still freaking HURT!!! And since his stomach is rumbling, Harvey feels the need to feed.

Showtime

Clutching his left hand, Harvey’s tears open Mathers’s throat, sending sprouts of blood spraying around. Catching it with his tongue, he smiles as he feels it making him stronger. Lifting up Mathers on-handed, Harvey throws him at Dr. Krankov, and roars again as he continues the transformation. Now completely covered in thick red scales, with two giant wings forming behind him. Horns start appearing from his forehead and lower jaw, stretching out. Grabbing into the crossbow bolt still in his chest, Harvey breaks it off with a claws hand, and tosses it to the side, shaking his head as he feels the poison swimming around. Thanks to Bakan not resisting him, Harvey is easily able to overcome it, and smiles as he smells fear. The rest of the Malevolent Seven, now Malevolent Six look at Mathers corpse, then at Harvey, then come forward with their clubs. Smiling, which is a sick looking smile through the rows of teeth, Harvey nods slightly, and rushes them.

The first guard, Luther seems to be a nice target, for he was as stupid as his brother, but hopefully just as tasty. Grabbing the outstretched arm with the club, Harvey clutches tightly, crushing the bones into splinters. The result is most painful obviously, and slashes with his free hand, opening up Luther stomach cavity. As he tries to comically, in Harvey’s eyes, hold in his rapidly exiting intestines, Harvey drops him and moves on to the next one, Smith. Smith, a big, tall, treebarrel image of a man tries to swing at Harvey. Firsthand experience led to Harvey knowing that Smith’s blows were powerful indeed, but this time, he simply catches the first blow, and then catches the next, holding Smith in place. Smiling at his, Harvey squeezed, crushing the bones in Smith’s hands, feeling himself become even stronger as his fingers met his palms, with ruined bone, skin, muscle and blood acting as a glove. Letting go, Harvey stretched out his hands flat, then thrust forward, stabbing them both into Smith’s chest. Seeing Arguile come up to his side, Harvey shifts his weight over, and swings out one of his wings, catching Arguile across the chest with bone-breaking force. Flying backwards, Arguile lands on top of Dr. Krankov, who was trying to make his way to the door.

OH NO YOU DON’T!!! taunted Harvey to Dr. Krankov, and yanked back, tearing out Smith’s rib cage. Raising it like a shield, Harvey slams it into the face of Xaviar, who screams at the bones of Smith, who now is doing a nice act of looking in shocked at his exposed chest, at the internal organs, still beating and quivering as they slid out of his body, before he feel forward. Harvey then pulls back the ribcage, and slashes with it, cutting open Xavier’s forehead, before seeing Dr. Krankov trying to escape. Winding up, Harvey’s let’s fly the ribcage, and it strikes Dr. Krankov’s left shoulder, the force obviously dislocating it. Sprinting to him with supernatural speed, Harvey grabs the weakened limb, and tears and swings, sending Dr. Krankov’s left arm to the left, with the rest of the good doctor traveling the other way.

You like that bitch! yelled Harvey, who, still holding the severed arm, takes a large, meaty bite out of it, swallowing and smiling. ”You should have eaten more, you are a little…. Ugh”

The ugh came from Carson and William firing their crossbows into Harvey’s back. His scales, almost fully formed, slowed them down before their pieced to deeply, but the poison was like fire to his veins. Turning back to them, dropping Dr. Krankov’s arm, as they frantically tried to reload, Harvey reached behind him and grabbed the two bolts, and sprints forward. Swing out, he stabs both William and Carson in their stomachs, and keeps pushing, driving the bolts out of their bodies, and into the other. Letting go and standing back, Harvey laughs as William and Carson clutched the bolts, which now hold the two of them together. Looking at Xavier, who has managed to pull himself up, he hissed, inhales, and exhales flame. Catching Xavier full force with the flames from this mouth, Xavier catches fire instantly. Screaming, he runs around in circles, and out the door, where Harvey’s realized that Dr. Krankov managed to make it out, though the trail of blood from the ruined stump would serve as a nice trail. Turning back to the last uninjured person, the notetaker, whom Dr. Krankov called Eleanor. Her face was bloodless, her eyes wide open at the slaughter in front of her. Hearing duel screams of pain, Harvey turns to see that Carson and William managed to free themselves, but were wavering. While most of the poison was within him, there was enough on the bolts to kill them slowly. Watching them stumble around, Carson looks at Harvey and pulls out a dagger, aiming to die fighting it seems. Smiling even more, Harvey swings out, punching Carson with enough force to send his jaw flying across the room, with the rest of Carson not looking good as he falls, dead. William to stumbles towards Harvey with blind rage. Sighing now as to how boring this was, Harvey extends his hands like he was about to catch a ball, and shoves through William’s chest. Clutching William’s heart, Harvey yanks it out, pulling blood vessels, bone and skin with it.

Turning back to Eleanor, munching on the heart as if it was a apple, Harvey spies Xavier, blood covering his forehead, holding out a crossbow. Firing it, the bolt flies true, and strikes Harvey’s where a heart would be. Looking at the bolt, Harvey grabs the dagger from Carson’s hand, and throws it into Xavier’s eye. Turning to Eleanor, Harvey leans in close, smelling her. Oh how sweet was the scent of a frightened female, one that looked to have enough meat on her to be a good meal. Her mouth moved trying to form words, probably something along the lines of ‘please spare her’, etc etc. Feeling his stomach desiring more meat, Harvey reaches out, and bites down on Eleanor’s throat, taking in a large bite.

Throughout all of this, Bakan watched with a detached sense of unreality as the violence and death. None of the Malevolent Seven deserved life, nor especially Dr. Krankov. Yet now was Eleanor, whom was a collaborator, and who was now screaming as she was being eaten alive. Stuggling against the mental bonds that held him in place, Bakan cursed himself for letting Harvey go.

”But this is what you wanted, for their blood to rain from the ceiling, for them to die in agony. Is this not what you wanted, for I was trying to show you how we could work together here.”

Not like this….. not like this, she could have been a prisoner, a victim, or…..

What she was was one who stood by as WE were tortured. And I’m hungry. Don’t worry, you still have time to act, for this one time is not enough for me to take full control, if such a thing was possible. Still, if you find this disturbing,, I’ll grant you some peace.

Bakan then felt what was like a five-ton block falling on top of him.

Short time later….

Opening his eyes, Bakan groaned painfully, fealing sore and stiff, yet alive and strong. Pushing himself up, the pain almost instantly vanshies. Looking at his hands, Bakan sees that they are fully scaled still, yet appear to be mostly human shaped still, well, with the fingernails sharped to a lethal edge. Looking at the rest of his body, he sees that it is mostly scaled as well, his clothing in even more tatters. He then sees the rest of the chamber. It reminded Bakan of a kitchen after a large feast, except this time the food was the Malevolent Seven and Eleanor, all of them mauled, to one degree or another. Even Xaviar, whom apparently was dragged back into the chamber was eaten, despite being extra crispy. But sitting in the chair, was the body of his granddaughter, untouched and intact. Blood was all over the chamber, still damp and fresh. Looking at his hands again, Bakan sees that they are covered with blood. Tasting his lips, he tastes even more blood. He then realizes that his stomach is no longer protesting about hunger, but instead, about being full.

Oh yes, you are quite full, we really needed a good meal, get some of the old muscle back, the kick and pizzazz. Don’t worry, raw meat is not fatal to us like it is for others of your kind. In any case, the door is open, and the poor Dr. Krankov is probably screaming about his missing arm, which was very tasty by the by. Finally, your granddaughter there, I knew you would get all pissed if I ate her, and well..... think of it as a present for you for letting me come out and play. We should do this more often.”

Seeing the chance for escape in front of him, Bakan wonders for a second if it was worth the price he just paid.

[Mad cat]

ooc- am I allowed to make a late entry? -ooc

[Inspectre]

/ooc Hmmm . . . . alright, well I suppose I can try a DMing from this old, yet reliable, computer. Thread will be DM'd tomorrow, in the hopes that I won't have to think up extra special "rewards" for those who havn't posted yet (flirting with disaster, ND, tsk tsk. ) Plus, it takes a d*mn long time to DM all of you sods. Time to start killing you all off! ooc/

Mad Cat

You can make a character, but expect there to be some sort of . . . "punishment" for your lateness in joinning.

[Bakan]

Originally Posted by Inspectre

/ooc Hmmm . . . . alright, well I suppose I can try a DMing from this old, yet reliable, computer. Thread will be DM'd tomorrow, in the hopes that I won't have to think up extra special "rewards" for those who havn't posted yet (flirting with disaster, ND, tsk tsk. ) Plus, it takes a d*mn long time to DM all of you sods. Time to start killing you all off! ooc/

*Points up.*

Enough insurance to prevent killage on my end?

[Inspectre]

/ooc In the interest of speeding events, and my DMing along, I am going to do group posts where I can. While I, too, prefer individual DMs, this thread has been tiring me out from writing so much. Writing so much leads to burnout, and burnout leads to this thread dying fast. Hopefully I'll regain my willingness to write more again sometime soon. ooc/

Flaag/Zappa/Kal'rek

You all sit through several more minutes of insults from your fellow prisoners, until it finally appears that it was your turn to fight. First, the door at the far end of the "Waiting Room", as it were, burst open, and a half-conscious man was dragged through (Dunin Hemm). His face was badly scratched and bruised, and it seemed likely that he was also suffering a mild concussion as well. Judging by the grumbling of the guards as they passed, this man had lost, and the guards were none too happy with him. A moment later, a second prisoner was dragged through the doorway as well, another human, if he could be called that. He snarled and howled like an animal, and was putting up a good fight against the four guards dragging him over to a bench, despite the heavy chains wrapped about his body. Eventually, the guards manage to force him down onto a bench despite his contortions, and chain him down. "Well, The Animal strikes again . . . another win for the madman!!" One of the four guards announces loudly, slightly out of breath. "And now, it's time for an extra special event!" The guard announces, waving at several of the guards closest to him around the room. These guards get the signal, unchainning you all from the bench and hoisting you up to your feet. The guards lead you out into the Arena, and there remove all of your restraints. They also annouce with a smile, "Andre's killed plenty of giants in his time . . . I doubt a trio of elves will be much effort for him." Overhead, balcony upon balcony of guards booed and jeered at you, although they began to quiet down as another guard, an Elite by the look of him, gestured for silence. "Here's the next match, my friends!! Once again, your champion, Andre, will defend us all from the foul swarm of elves that are choking the very life out of this land!!" The Elite annouced, as he motioned for the three of you to be thrown into the pit in the center of the Arena. Approaching the edge, you can see that already down in The Pit was easily the largest human you had ever seen: although unarmed, the large mounds of rippling muscle suggested that this human would have no trouble beating all three of you to death with his barehands. Just before you were all thrown in, the Elite continued, "But let it not be said that the Arena does not have a sense of fairness!" He presses a knife that could only be called a letter openner into the right hand of Kal'rek, prompting a snicker from the nearby guards. In a louder voice, the Elite called, "Let the fight begin!!" This was evidently the moment that the guards behind you had been waiting for, and a moment later you were all thrown unceremoniously down into The Pit.

Dunin Hemm

You awaken with a start to find yourself back on the bench in the Arena's Waiting Room. Shaking your head, you wince in pain, starting to feel the wounds and bruises covering your face and body. Slowly, the memory of the fight comes back to you, as you realize you must have sustained a concussion along with your other wounds.

The man had nimbly leaped aside as you dropped toward the floor, and then was all over you before you had even regained your balance. It quickly became clear that at one time, the man known as the Animal had had some trainning in the martial arts. Still, you had fought many skilled opponents over the years, and had beaten many of them. You were able to back up enough to use your sword, and swung at the man, hoping to sweep his legs out from under him as he continued to press you. Again, the man despite his nimbleness and trainning as he backflipped over your blade, kicking you in the face. This scene was to be repeated numerous times throughout the battle, and although you had managed to inflict several shallow wounds on the man's body, you were clearly getting the worse end of the fight. Finally, the man threw you to the ground and leapt upon you, using one hand to pin your sword arm to the ground with impressive strength. Leaning in close, the man suddenly whispered to you in between his loud snarls, "My apologies: it is sometimes necessary for the sane to pretend madness. But the guards tend to ignore the mad . . . salvation is close at hand. The signal will be back in the Waiting Room . . . watch me, and when I begin to fight the guards, prepare yourself, and do what you can to stop the guards." The apparently not-so insane man had then bounced your head off the ground, knocking you out cold.

Looking around the Waiting Room, you can see the man known as the Animal sitting on the bench, looking deceptively peaceful. When a wandering guard came too close, however, the Animal lashed out, kicking the guard off-balance and sending him careening into a group of prisoners on the bench opposite of him. Seeing this, a guard walking the aisle between your bench and another shouts a warning, and begins running your way, clearing planning on passing you and reaching the site of the disturbance.

Fluffie/No Dachi/Hawk101

Along with the other prisoners, you toil in the mines for only about an hour or so, although it seems like days. Then, a group of heavily armed guards come by, informing you all that your group had been elected to go explore a new side passage that had been discovered. A mining crew had been working at a relatively old rock face when suddenly it crumbled, revealing a passageway leading further down into the darkness. It was assumed that the mining crew had discovered an old passage down into the Catacombs that had been sealed off for whatever reason, but the Foreman wanted to be sure. The reason you were coming along was so that the guards wouldn't have to dig, should the other end of the passageway be sealed as well. And so, without further ado, you all found yourselves marching down into the Catacombs, the dark and dangerous place below the Mines that no one wanted to be in. You manage to reach the end of the unexplored passageway without incident, and find that the end was, indeed, sealed off as well. This seal was apparently much thinner and weaker than the one above, however, as with only a few swift blows from your picks and shovels, the wall collapses, revealing a corridor crossing perpendicular to the passage that you were currently in. Albeit reluctantly, the guards decide to explore this new passage a bit further, just to make sure that this was, indeed, the Catacombs. A few minutes later, the torchlight of the guards reveals a figure standing at the edge of the light, clad in prison garb. "Prisoner, identify yourself!!" One of the guards called, leveling his crossbow at the figure. In response, the figure turned, revealing a partially decayed face, and moaned loudly before starting to shamble towards your group. "Sh*t!!" the guard cried, firing his crossbow with very little effect into the chest of the evidently walking-dead prisoner. Several more dead joinned the first one in the torchlight, as they all started to shamble forward . . .

flapjack

Using one of the guard's slimmer daggers, you are able to pick the padlock, but it seems like the collar and manacles would have to wait. You were even sure if the collar could come off, as you couldn't feel a keyhole anywhere. The manacles also had small keyholes that you could probably pick open with the slim knife if you were given enough time, and willing to take the chance that the knife could slip while you awkward held it into the keyhole, and possibly slit your wrist. In any case, arming yourself with some of the man's daggers, you move over towards the door, and press your ear against it, trying to hear if anyone was out there. To your disappointment, there were: two guards, from the sounds of it. Looking through your mind to try to remember the shape of the room before you were led in here, you recall that there was a small table with several chairs in the room, about halfway between this door and the exit.

Bakan

As you stand there gazing around at the charnage you had inflicted, you realize that Dr. Krankov had escaped: and, undoubtedly, even now was screaming for more guards to come in and subdue you. Before you could move, however, you hear Harvey say, Ooops . . . missed one.
A moment later, you feel a searing pain along your back as a short sword bites into it. Collapsing to your knees, you shoot a glance over your shoulder, seeing Arguile standing there, his short sword tightly held in his one hand. The other was wrapped around his chest, no doubt craddling the dozen or so broken ribs he had recieved. "I'll kill you freak." Arguile grunted, painfully limping forward and bringing his short sword down towards your head. This blow you manage to avoid, rolling to one side and leaving Arguile's short sword to bite into one armrest of the chair that your granddaughter was sitting in peacefully. Well, perhaps not so much missed as left one for you . . . I already softened him up for you: surely you don't need me to do all the killing for you, do you?

[Dunin Hemm]

First there is the ceiling. Then comes the rest of the word, in the shape of movements in the corners of his eyes. Soon, Faruk's mind clears and the recent events unfold as he groans in pain. His vision is slightly ascew, credit to a hit over his right eye causing the lids to swell up. Slowly he pushes himself up and fights down a sudden urge to throw up as the world spins for a moment. He looks around carefully, taking in the sorry bunch of people he's been left with, before his memory singles out the words of the Animal, just before everything went black.

Stop the guards? are the words that pop into his mind most clearly and his gaze falls upon the Animal; quiet and calm it would seem. He furrows his brow, wondering if the man was serious, and just then the Animal makes his move, kicking away one of the guards who is subsequently caught and beaten by a group of chained prisoners.

Another guard, down the aisle behind the now sitting Faruk, shouts and comes running. The still slow Faruk is a bit unclear in the head, but with an almost reflexive movement, he elbows the guard in his throat when he runs past him. The guard falls, out cold from the blow to his adam's apple, and he just happens to be equiped with a set of keys. Faruk leans down and quickly frees the keys from the guard's belt and begins trying them out on his manacles. It is only a question of time before he is free and he throw the keys to the next prisoner.

The place is in an uproar and Faruk swiftly confiscates the fallen guard's sword and now gets ready for some serious battle. He could be in better physical condition, but the desperate hope of escape earns him sudden vitality.

[flapjack]

Flapjack stopped for a few moments, altering someone's mind when you could see him was an easy feat, something a novice could achieve if the modifications where not to great. Doing the same without eye contact however, made things a lot more difficult.

Concentrating on himself, Flapjack checks himself for any injuries he might have sustained, even the slighest lapse in concentration could mess this 1 up, especially since he'd have to fight as well. Finding himself free from anything serious, Flapjack reached out with his mind again, guessing where the guard was and concentrating his thoughts there, finding the first guard after a few straining moments.

He could affect just the 1 guard, make him believe the other was a prisoner, but doing so would undoubtedly attract more guards and thus lower his chance of escaping, instead he anchored his mind into the first guard, then started looking for the second. Again he thought in himself, 1 man without eyecontact was hard enough, he'd have to affect 2 at the same time, he'd have to stick to general effects, not to mention his invisibility trick would be useless if the collar went off.

Flapjack needed a distraction that would make both guards miss him opening the door and give him a headstart in taking both of them down, but he also had to make sure the guards wouldn't attract more attention.

Finding the second guard, Flapjack thought of what to do, an old trick he had once used to kill a sick, old, man but that would hopefully trick the guards into silence at the very least, tapping into both of their minds at once, Flapjack headed straight for his target, slowly thickening the air in their perception, making it like water and what the mind believed, the body acted for.

Immediatly he could hear their breathing becoming heavier, his spell was having some effect, next was to eliminate their hearing, it didn't seem likely the guards would be looking towards the door but it was almost certain it would creak when he opened it, it had creaked when he was thrown in as well. Sticking the slick dagger into the door's lock, Flapjack easily found the pins that kept it locked and with only a tiny bit of effort he heard the sweet clicking of the lock, followed by the door swaying towards him a little.

Another victory in that the door opened inwards, Flapjack grabbed 2 of the larger, grooved, daggers. His first hit would have to be right, straight through the guard's windpipe to disable him. With the speed and agility of an elf, Flapjack lept out of the small cell, his concentration suddenly leaping from 1 thing to the next and the guards almost instantly released from their illusion, further adding to the confusion because of what they percieved as a sudden change in environment.

Striking out with his right hand, Flapjack felt the various pieces of material he stabbed through, first a layer of muscle and skin, followed by a short bit of elastic material and then solid bone. He didn't have to wait for any effect as Flapjack turned with the second dagger flying into his right hand, an almost perfect catch followed by a much practiced stab caused the second guard to drop before he had even managed to utter a sound, Flapjack quickly reached for the guard's weapons, leaving the daggers where they are to prevent the dieing guards from talking.

[Hewitt]

Originally Posted by Inspectre

Hewitt

You can’t really see a way out of this terrible, horrifying situation, until you remember the flame shield. If that couldn’t get you out of this situation, nothing could. Settling back onto the table, you momentarily relax, looking inward and connecting with the dragon deep within you. You hear, as if from far away, one of the guards holding you down say, “I think she fainted sir.” The good doctor doesn’t have a chance to respond, as suddenly a flash of flame forms around you. Screaming in pain, all six of the guards release you and jump back, their hands and faces already blistering from the intense heat. The chains holding you down to the table also feel the heat, starting to soften and melt. The small amount of molten metal running down over your arms and legs didn’t do much to better your mood, although it was only a small part of the montage of pain as you struggled to free yourself from your weakened bonds. The chains, however, were only made out of untreated iron, instead of hardened steel, and so between the heat and the incredible stress being put on them, suddenly broke, leaving you free, free at last. Your first act of freedom was to plant both of your feet into the jaw of a shocked Dr. Vladimir, sending both him and his d*mned saw flying away from the table. Slipping off of the table, your next action was to deal with guards, who had by now had somewhat recovered and were once again closing in on you in an attempt to bring you back under control. You weren’t about to be so easy for them to beat half to death a second time, and with a large number of sharp implements close at hand, make short work of all the guards. Looking around the room, you can see that Dr. Vladimir was no where to be found: evidently, he had crept away like the animal he was while you dealt with the guards. Unfortunately, this was bad news for you: no doubt the doctor would return with quite a good number of guards to try to recapture you again. Before that, however, you needed to buy some time to get this stupid muzzle off. Putting the last fatally wounded guard out of his misery, you pile a bunch of shelves in front of the door that presumably led out into the rest of the labs, instead of your cell, and go back to the shelves full of tools. You quickly find a narrow blade, and use it to pick the lock on your muzzle. After what seems like ages, the muzzle’s lock finally pops open, and you tear it free and throw it across the room. At the clatter of the muzzle against the wall, you hear a terrified yelp, and a woman in a rather skimpy dress jumps out of the shadows, her hands held above her head. “I-I . . . t-took n-notes f-f-for the d-doctor, b-b-b-but I’m a prisoner too!!! I-I’m sorry, please d-don’t kill me!!” Evidently, this woman was busy writing down whatever the doctor was saying while he was contemplating cutting you open like a fish. Although you suppose she could have been a prisoner, and had been simply forced to do it, something didn’t quite seem right with that story. Then you realized what wasn’t fitting: her cheeks were too full, and whatever sores and scars she had had while in prison, had started to fade. A prisoner allright, and yet not a prisoner at the same time . . . collaborator.

*Jasmine seethed with anger at the escape of Dr Vladimir as she stared into the other prisoners face. When she had discovered that it was this whelp she had threatened and not the good doctor, her first action had been to whip her around and pull her into the light. She now held the woman's face up to her own, trying to sus the prisoner out. She doesn't like what she sees.*

"You look well taken care of wench, far too well for a place with a reputation such as this... shithole. *Jasmine sneers.* You don't honestly expect me to believe you're just another another helpless prisoner now do you?"

*With a measure of disgust, Jas throws the woman back roughly towards the wall as she turns away to begin methodically searching the unconscious bodies littering the floor. She continues to speak to the collaborator as she does this.*

"Here's what's gonna happen wench. *Jasmine pauses as she briefly looks over a crossbow.* You are going to help me escape. If you do not, I will kill you then escape anyway. *Slits the throat of the searched guard and moves onto the next one.* If you try to run from me I will hunt you down and kill you. *Kills this guard then proceeds to the next.* If you try to cause me harm, I'll kill you. *Finishes with the third guard, kills him, moves to the fourth.* If at any time I think you are leading me astray I'll break both you're legs... then kill you. *Search done, throat silt, two guards left.* Call out for help... kill you. *Fifth guard done, last one.* And if you ever, EVER make fun of my ass while I have to share company with your piss weak ass or do anything else that just really pisses me off- *Jasmine raises the small blade up high and while staring coldly into the eyes of the collaborator, suddenly and heavily stabs it down hard through the last guards sternum.* ...well, I'm certain you can imagine what I might just do to you..."

*Having now searched all the now dead bodies and presumably made this little tramp shit her pants, all that was left to do before the 'cavalry' arrived was to go over the pile of stuff she had taken from the guards. Crouching down beside the pile she started picking away as the mental clock continued to tick down in her mind.*

Not long now...

"Now... you will start increasing your life expectancy by telling me of another way out of here, then leading the way. Do you understand?"

[Fluffie]

But I thought I hadn't rung the old fellow up yet...

If possible, Tristram was staring at the zombie, or at least, at what appeared to be a zombie. People walking around with half decayed faces usually meant that they had died, but had undied too, thus becoming the undead... And yes, from his [Tristram's] point of view, this really looked like a zombie.

But if I haven't rung him...

Those damn guards didn't know how to beat up a zombie. A zombie was nothing like a human, even an extraordinary specimen such as Mr. Tristram himself. You had to kill zombies good, kill'em real good. That was because they had died already, so you'd have to make them die extra much, to make up, for like, being dead-but-not-so-dead. Rolling his eyes at the above train of thoughts, he sighed. He muttered a bit, asking to have his chains and gags and other sick playthings removed.

"Hmpfff! Pff pff ffffffffff." [I can kill these ****s, y'know. Kill'em real good! Like crazed Wookiees spanking a Rancor on a sunday afternoon!]

Nobody seemed to be responding though. All preoccupied with being suprised, afraid, screaming, tugging the damn chains and what not. Or at least, that is what some voice in the back of Tristram's head was telling him. He wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings, not at a time like this. He was focussing, y'know. Slowly moving his fingers around, trying to speed up the time with which his chains and gags were aging. Make them decay, rust, fall apart, maybe just disappear. He hoped they just disappeared... The gag turning to dust inside his mouth didn't sound like much fun.

Ack! Hot!

The damn jewelry they had given him was acting up again. It always did when he was trying to do fun things... He hadn't done much of it, so Tristram didn't really know it was that particular thing that stopped him from doing any magic. He thought the warmth was just some kind of sick, random thing. Nobody had ever told him and if they had, they had probably been too busy unleashing their sick fantasies onto his corpse to make sure he heard and understood them.

Damn bitches.

As the power of his magic increased, he wondered if it actually would work. Messing with the streams of time always had been a tricky thing to do. The bloody thing nearly boiling his throat away wasn't helping... Oh if he could just have shouted out a couple of commands, shattering the necklace, entering some party lights and a sixpack of beer. His fingers slowly started forming more complex patterns, moving as good as they could in their kind of limited position.

But he was trying.

Soon...

He hadn't rung Diablo. Undead were never a good sight. This meant he was either back to do nasty things again, or someone else, more nasty, was in or beneath these catacombs. He had lost the crystal, but there was a new quest ahead of him again now. Search, and, destroy.

Continueing to ignore what was happening around him, the effects of the spell (if working at all) begin showing visual effects, sparks and small jolts of an electricity-like-energy running through his chains, gag and other sick attributes. He felt the intense heat on his throat, but he could manage. He could destroy the necklace later on, heal his throat. He focussed on the task of releasing himself first...

There was a job to be done, little else mattered.

[Kal'rek]

Get up.

"Wh... what?"Seliina mumbled and stirred on the dusty ground. Her eyes half open and fluttering.

Get up now.
A wash of memories came back. Seliina remembered lunging first at the terribly large monster and being brushed aside and landing heavily kicking up a cloud of dust. She had jumped up to try and get the beast in the head through the ear but the beast had seen her less than elegant lung with the "knife" that she had had pressed into her hand.
She squirmed on the ground trying to suck in a breath and managed to flip herself over onto her back.
Stay down. Wait until it's back is turned, use the others as a distraction. Seliina coughed as she sucked in particles of dust in the struggle to draw breath but then went limp trying to feign unconsciousness.
"Where's the knife?" she Said to herself. She could see it clearly, sticking deep into the beasts fleshy left shoulder.

[Zappa Tenderlea]

it had been mere seconds, but it had been enough, as the guards freed him from the manacles 'n' stuff, he made his move. the first guard was simply shoulderbashed into the pit, as the next was swung in while Zappa turned about, grabbing his arm and pulling him over the pit in the progress. a jump and a flip followed, kicking the third guard on the back of the head as he had come running towards him.

tensing his muscles, Zappa looked about, grinning slightly, and heading back to the waitingroom

[ooc: to others near me, might want to edit your posts, might not want to, dunno]

[Bakan]

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