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Snippet #1705404

located in The Nexus, a part of Revelation: The Cure, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Nexus

The central hub of the city.

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Loki bent backwards to a void a swipe of Gilgameshā€™s hidden blade, noting the incoming Garbiel but not giving it away to the prime minister, which resulted in very bodily contact between the two a few seconds afterward. Hit by the much larger smith, the politician sprawled to the ground. Loki, whoā€™d seen it coming, did not waste time and brought her left-hand knife down on the manā€™s neck, expecting some kind of visceral satisfaction in the act but finding nothing of the sort.

The fight was far from over, and she nodded tersely to Forgefire before entering the fray once again, ducking under an incoming axe-blow and flowing up under the womanā€™s guard, burying her right-hand blade hilt-deep in her neck. Over the dead soldierā€™s shoulder, she watched Caelin fall to the ground and swore rather nastily. The noblemanā€™s epieu had landed a few feet away, and she made a break for that direction, intending to deal with the man standing over him first.

Recklessness had never been a friend of the careful princess, and she was reminded why in rather short order: so focused on crossing the room was she that the crossbow bolt headed right in her direction didnā€™t even register until it was a blooming pain in her upper arm. Gritting her teeth against the scream that threatened, she grasped the bolt in her opposite hand and yanked, hissing a sharp intake of breath, but throwing the bolt off to the side. Yes, it was going to bleed more this way; she knew enough of medicine to say that much, but if she left it in it would be more of a restriction on her mobility and she couldnā€™t deal with that right now.

Speaking of things she really didnā€™t want to seeā€¦ had her delay cost her too much? A glance brought some relief; Eos had appeared and gone to the rescue himself, and her gore-spattered face acquired a most peculiar expression; relief. There was actually a smile involved, too, but sheā€™d swear up and down that no such thing had ever occurred. Scooping the hand-spear up off the ground, she passed Eos on his way elsewhere and sniffed. ā€œYouā€™re late.ā€

The epieu, she held out to Caelin. ā€œFunny how this sort of thing always happens, isnā€™t it?ā€ She was trying for a bit of levity, but ended up saying it like there was a bad taste in her mouth instead. Not that this wasnā€™t true; as much as she should have grown to expect this sort of thing by now, she still did not enjoy dragging her friends into it. Especially those who were more gentle of disposition, as Caelin was.

Turning back to the goings-on, she kept a decent radius between them so as not to get in his way, but all the same, she wasnā€™t about to risk a situation like the one sheā€™d almost found herself in a few moments ago. Eos knew what he was doing; Forgefire seemed to be a berserker in a rage, if his use of such unconventional weaponry as a chair was anything to go by, butā€¦ well, she thought it best to stay here for now.

Resounding cracks and pops from outside, along with the screams of those soldiers who still had not made it indoors, signaled Carlisleā€™s use of Etzelā€™s invention, though Loki didnā€™t know it. It was in the process of disarming and hip-checking a man who had to be at least twice her size that she felt the first tremor in the ground itself, followed by a second, associated, shaking of the building. It was slight, but definitely enough to notice, and the already alabaster-colored princess paled. That had to have been-

Scowling, she was brought back to the present by a wound to her side. Tch. Careless. Wheeling around and backhanding the responsible party, she followed up with a thrust to his ribcage, her knife sliding between two of the bones and puncturing a lung. She was, by this point, panting rather heavily, and beginning to feel dizzy from the blood loss, but there was far too much left to be done to pass out quite yet. Of course, oneā€™s body did not always agree with oneā€™s mind, but sheā€™d just have to deal with that for the moment.



District Gamma, Sewers

Amon and Durwald had downed seven of the remaining twelve between them when Durwald fell, clutching at his stomach but unable to keep his entrails from spilling out. With one half the defensive unit gone, a third man joined the two approaching Victoria, Zade, and the technician. Fortunately in some respect, the man finished diffusing the bomb then, and turned to Zade. ā€œNothingā€™s going to explode-ā€ he began, but was cut off by a deafening boom that reverberated through the sewer tunnels. It came from what was effectively ninety degrees from their location on the circle that constituted the Beta-Gamma border, but it was definitely close enough for them to hear and feel in their bones, seeping up from the ground.

He considered rephrasing, but shot a worried glance in the direction of the explosion instead. One of the groups had clearly not been successful. Each of the assassinsā€™ groups had been assigned one target location to deal with, but this raised the possibility of more complications. They had to get moving and see about finding the rest of those bombs, just in case. ā€œWhatever weā€™re doing, weā€™d better make it fast,ā€ he mumbled; as calm as he was trained to be in situations like this, he didnā€™t really want to be within a blast radius.

Amon moved through his remaining opponents like a fish through water, though truly he suspected fish did not bleed quite so much on a daily basis. Yes, he was perhaps the best at his craft, but he was no longer young, and nobody escapes so many consecutive (and when space permitted them, simultaneous) confrontations unscathed, and he was beginning to slow under the onslaught. Still, the speed reduction was his choice, and he saved his precision because of it, never taking more than two hits to end a life. There was only one left now, but he would not be able to provide any assistance to the two young women in dealing with the other three simply due to the timing of it.



District Gamma

The explosion rocked the streets above the sewers where it had detonated, spewing debris, turbid water, and ash into the air and taking out a good half of the combatants on both sides. The observant, unfortunate souls, would be able to notice body parts, chunks of charred human flesh, and a fine mist of blood mingling with the rest of the unholy cocktail as well. Those men and women that Pandora had sent to sleep dies quickly, being almost directly above the bomb. Still others were less fortunate; catching large fragments of jagged shrapnel in their too-soft bodies, or in armor that dented and restricted their breathing to a painful minimum.

For a long moment, there was naught but silence as everyone present digested what had happened. It was clear that the soldiers had not known what was to occur here. It was equally clear that even if the magi had, they had most certainly not thought they would end up caught in it. Many turned pale, limbs taking on tremulous uncertainty when they realized that had they been standing where their now-broken comrades were, then they too would have perished.

In that confusion, there was perhaps a chance for someone to bring some order into the chaos, but Aram Azazel had been caught in the blast himself and exsanguinated from a wound brought about by a flying shard of metal shortly afterwards. The magi were leaderless, the militia betrayed, and none of them were really sure what to do. A few hands tightened around weapons reflexively, ready to embrace what seemed a determined end, but many more still hesitated, and their inability to resolve themselves was for the moment enough to keep the others at bay.

When everything you had expected turns upon its head, what do you do?