Snippet #2777642

located in Sanctuary of Chains, a part of Melody of Ruin, one of the many universes on RPG.

Sanctuary of Chains

The halls echo into the unknown, creaks and groans seem to emerge from the depths, along with the sound of the creatures that now populate it.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Judith Frost Character Portrait: Karma Kura Character Portrait: No Eyes - "Jack" Character Portrait: Editus Rayn
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Anselm stared at the front doors, observing the movements of every monster surrounding the doors. In his own head he had to admit that this was far more than he could handle alone, but stubbornly he wasn't ready to give up. He scanned the walls of the castle, and found its structure infuriatingly resilient against infiltration, windows, what few that were, were barred, likely difficult to remove, and there was little signs of an alternate entry from this side. He was assigned to slay Yam Suph, and rescue the captives, but a burning thought kept itself in his mind, and it made his arm itch more. She's gotta be here.

It was then he picked up a slight sound like the rustling of leaves, and another, a voice nearby.

"So, this is the sanctuary I've heard tell of? Sounds to me like a pleasant romp."

He heard a woman speak. He turned, looking over in her direction, a disgruntled look on his face. "I told em I dun need backup," he grumbled, itching the back of his head. "Th'hell ya supposed t'be anyway? A secretary? Eh, whatever, I'm handlin' this, so you can just-"

As he began to wave his arm to shoo off the woman a strong breeze like a wave rushed through the trees and over them both, his hair and clothes blew violently against the rush and the gates rattled and groaned. All the monsters in the front of the castle were alerted, some of their hair going on ends, and even Anselm's body tingled. Instinct was telling him to move but instead he turned to the woods as they were suddenly lit with floating blue sprites of some sort, a hollow chirping heard in a slowly rising crescendo, heralding a lone figure. What appeared was something that seemed to be a man, black hair, head down, wounded and limping, but aside from the running of blood from his dangling right arm were black feathers molting from him.

"M-me," he hoarsely muttered as he dragged himself by a perplexed Anselm, paying him no mind at all as he went straight to the gate. The man raised his head, grunting as he did so, and opened his mouth like he was readying to scream. There was a strange crackling, as his jaw extended further, the skin of his cheeks seeming to rip in a jagged pattern and the chirping got even louder as the crescendo increased, ghostly blue light gathering around the figure. Anselm, as if by instinct leapt back, moments before a loud sound erupted, and a surge of blue light erupted from the figure's mouth, ripping open the gates and mercilessly plowing through the monsters unfortunate enough to be in the way of the blast, and it slammed into the door cracking it open and causing the structure to shudder under the sheer force. As the beam dissipated, a blue fire lingered on the door, bits of various creatures littered at its steps. The figure continued forward, dragging himself, the various monsters watching him with bated anticipation. "Should have been me," he muttered, as he continued to limp in through the door, the monsters that survived followed him in and soon the front area was cleared.

"Th'ell was that!?" Anselm yelled when things had turned dead quiet, clasping his human hand over his mouth. Noticing the silence, he crept towards the door and looked inside to find no lasting trace of the figure or the hoard. Well, whatever, never look a gift horse in the mouth, I guess, he thought, as he snuck in through the door, arm ready to take on anything that lingered.