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The Lie We Seek (M)

Started by Valtxr, May 22, 2017, 03:45:53 PM

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Valtxr

   Laython listened to their answers, analyzed every word.
   Otto was cagey. Had something to hide about his past or present. But he cared for someone: a friend, a lover perhaps. Someone who had given him the scarf. Someone who could be found and used as leverage, if necessary. Given if he or she were still alive.
   Not much history between the two, only a shared profession as mercenaries. Volkhard potentially had a drinking problem, as did many men who had seen too much and had the misfortune of staying alive for far too long, harboring all those nasty memories. Having "nothing much better to do" hinted at a lack of drive, of purpose. Perhaps they were just in it for the coin. Volkhard more so than Otto, if that were the case. Volkhard seemed to cleanly fit the profile of a washed-up fighter of some sort, merely surviving his last days. Otto, likely a vigilante, or on some personal quest for vengeance of a sort, or perhaps he just secretly enjoyed killing; either way, money would be a base yet necessary component of his life.
   Potentially non-native to Connlaoth, either one or both of them.
   And Volkhard had "an old friend".
   Ah. His "marching days". Perhaps this old friend was a fellow veteran. And he cared about him enough to seek him out, spend time with him. This friend could have been with Volkhard during one of those skirmishes, perhaps the very same in which he was cursed. Strong bonds are forged on the battlefield. Volkhard would do anything for this friend, wouldn't he?
   Wouldn't he?
   Laython smiled.
   To Otto, he said, "No back entrances, but Strathus' room qualifies as a secret room. There is a trap door somewhere inside in the shop; Fallah knows where. This trap door will lead you down to a small underground landing, where you will see a heavy iron door. This door is enchanted, and will open only in response to the touch of Fallah, Strathus, and a few other individuals. The living touch, mind you, so I'd advise keeping her alive at least long enough to get the door open if she proves to be uncooperative. Oh. And peanuts. The big bad frightening sorcerer is deathly allergic to peanuts. Much to his chagrin, he has not been able to develop a magical remedy for this malady. Not an ideal one, in any case."
   To Volkhard, he said, "You'll find Fallah, an assistant apothecary of little importance, and Strathus himself on the premises. Perhaps one or two shop-goers from the street browsing inside the store. That's all. No guards. No men. A quiet hideaway. Fallah and the assistant will be in the store proper, conducting business as usual. Strathus, naturally, will be sealed away in his underground room."
   When he was finished, some parting words for Merissa, "Good luck. Don't let the old sorcerer mar that beautiful face of yours."
   Her eyes shifted momentarily to Volkhard and Otto. "I should be fine, Elliot. Take care."
   As Merissa and Sharon made for the door, Sharon hazarded one look back to Laython.
   And he smirked.
   "Do come back."
   Sharon frowned. And followed Merissa out of the room.

   Back down in the main lounge, Sharon put her hands on her hips and took a moment to recuperate.
   "Merissa...how do you do it?"
   "Do what, dear?"
   "Talk with someone like Laython. I just...ugh."
   Merissa smiled. "It's simple, dear. Laython is a man, and men usually just want one of two things at any given moment. Sex or status. You'll know which with one look. And once you see it, you just wrap them around your finger by playing into their fantasies but never letting them come true." With a glance to Volkhard, she said, "No offense, sweetheart."
   Sharon's eyes narrowed as she thought about it. "And...which did Laython want?"
   "In reference to you or myself?"
   "Actually, nevermind. Don't answer. I don't want to know."

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

One can assume a lot of things of another man, but of course, mere assumptions do not replace the facts about the man.

Otto simply turned to leave, while the veteran nodded and followed.

Once outside, Volkhard shrugged at Merissa's comment. "That may be true for most men, but don't lump us all into the same category as the man back there.. We all have our own reasons for what we do. Ain't that right Otto?"

Otto just gave a slight nod, but otherwise said nothing.

"Now." Said Volkhard. "What is the plan of action?"


Valtxr

   Merissa smiled. Said to Volkhard, "Oh I wouldn't dare do a thing like that. You can trust me, dear."
   Sharon took in a huff of air, almost tasting the aromas of the lounge as she did, and put her hands on her hips. Time to go and face one of her worst nightmares. Time to go and trap herself in an underground room with a powerful mage. Again.
   "Well, I don't know if either of you know where this Fallah's Remedies shop is located," she said. "If not, we can ask around. That shouldn't be a problem. Laython said Fallah might be a bit uncooperative, so it would probably be best if one of you did the talking. You're...you know...scary looking. Tough guys."
   A small chuckle from Merissa. "Yes, Sharon and I certainly do lack an air of menace. You're both far more suited for intimidation, aren't you?"
   "My point exactly. So, I don't know. Volkhard, you're bigger. Otto, you're...actually probably the best bet, now that I think about it."
   Seemed like a good enough strategy. Those people who hushed up at the bar back at Reajh's Finest were solid evidence that Otto had that 'air of menace' Merissa was talking about. If anybody was going to scare Fallah into being more pliable, why not the most intense guy of the group?
   Sharon crossed her arms. Looked to Otto. "What do you think?"

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"I suppose it's worth a shot." said Volkhard  "What say you Otto?"

Otto just gave a shrug, then a few minutes later he just nodded.

"Splendid." The big man chuckled as he placed his shield hand on his hip. "Now, about this apothecary, I might have an idea where it is..."

He took a minute to think, before somthing hit him. He looked over to Sharon, as if he thought of somthing, and asked. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what exactly is this little "curse' you need breaking? Especially if your seeking a mage of all people. Not that it isn't reasonable, it's just most people around these parts aren't exactly reasonable with magic."

Valtxr

   Otto took a while to come around to the idea, but come around he did. Sharon gave him a nod of approval. He could probably get Fallah to cooperate, and then some. Maybe even convince her to talk Strathus into standing down, if she had enough pull with the old sorcerer. Could get this done without a big mess if they were so lucky.
   Then Volkhard asked his question, and Sharon was taken aback for a moment. She briefly considered outright saying that she didn't want to talk about it. But then, both Volkhard and Otto had already heard everything she had said upstairs in Laython's office. They had plenty of pieces, just not the entire puzzle.
   Sharon glanced around the main lounge. At the staircase. At the two closed doors that led to other hallways and rooms on the ground floor.
   And it was just the four of them. For the moment.
   Back to Volkhard and Otto. They deserved to know.
   "I'll be honest with you. Jessos and I...aren't exactly friends." Sharon's eyes trailed down and away. "She actually hates me right now. For something I did."
   She took in a breath. Thought. And raised her eyes back up to meet Volkhard's. "I'll start with the curse. I was with Jessos in her home when we were attacked. A mage, named Aven Alveron, trapped us in a room with him. This...Aven..." she said the name with disgust, "had infiltrated some army unit called Ansgar's Hand, and he had been stalking me under that guise. I didn't know what he was truly capable of until he had us locked in that room. The sick bastard...he knew what we were going to do. And he just couldn't let a good thing happen in this world."
   Sharon shook her head. "Mages. Aven knew that Jessos was planning to get her just revenge on a man named Deegan, a criminal boss based in Cerenis. And do you know what Deegan did to Jessos? He killed her parents when she was only six years old, kept her locked in a dungeon and raped her repeatedly for seven years, murdered her newborn daughter when she was thirteen, and then forced her to become his second-in-command. Aven knew Jessos was planning to kill Deegan, to finally get her revenge."
   Sharon scowled. "And do you know what he did? Hmm? He put a curse on her, that if she killed anyone, some kind of black magic would eat her alive. What kind of a sadistic move is that? Jessos finally, finally has the means to get her revenge on one of the most evil men I personally have ever seen, and Aven just..."
   Sharon turned away from them. Her hands on her hips. Her breathing fierce and heavy.
   After a long moment, she turned back around, her voice still trembling with anger. "She was still going to do it. Still going to kill Deegan, curse or no curse. She was that dedicated. And...after I saw Deegan's dungeon for myself...the three starving little girls he had in there that day...I just...I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't allow Jessos to die. Not like that. Not in that vile way. So I shot Deegan myself."
   Sharon sighed. "She hates me for it. And I...I can't blame her."
   And Sharon took another moment to glance around the lounge. Still just the four of them. Regardless, she lowered her voice. "All I can do ask for forgiveness, get that foul curse off of her, and offer her the chance to help me. To help me establish some semblance of order in this goddamn world. To help me expose and kill the men like Deegan that litter Reajh's criminal underground. And stop any more of them from rising up."
   Merissa said nothing. Only smiled cordially.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"Ansgar Hand. eh?" Volkhard snorted when he heard about the Ansgar hand. Volkhard wasn't phycic, but he had a pretty good idea what Otto was thinking, in fact he could see it in the corner of his eyes. Otto was staring at Sharon, and he had he'd seen those eyes one night when they were camping and he, well, told him a few things about his past. Normally his eyes looked empty, hell, you couldn't make them out even in good light. But with those few seconds as Sharon speaking he saw emotion in those eyes, of anger, but mostly sadness.

The two of them now seemed to have a thing or two in common.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" said Volkhard. "I think I know where this apothecary might be...yeah, follow me."

He moved for the street, before stopping at the entrance of the alleyway, gesturing for the group to follow.

Otto took a minute to collect himself, blinking a few times as if he was somehow shocked, before looking back at Volkhard and followed.

Valtxr

   Not much of a reaction from Volkhard, Sharon noted. That was either an intensely good thing, or just the opposite. Or perhaps the old veteran was really just unflappable. Still, he did seem to take an interest in her mention of Ansgar's Hand, and presumably Aven. She wouldn't mind exposing him and any other mages who happened to be hiding within the ranks, even if it meant her going to prison. Thus far, she didn't really have anybody she could turn to on this. Who knew how far Aven's corruption had gotten within the Ansgar's Hand unit? Volkhard was a veteran; he certainly had to know some people still on active duty, maybe even had a little pull himself. The right sort of man to get an organized effort by the military in motion to uncover Aven and who knows how many other infiltrated mages.
   But that was something for another day. More important matters were pressing.
   "Alright, dear," Merissa said. "We'll follow you then."
   Merissa started after Volkhard.
   Sharon took a step. Stopped. Glanced back to Otto. The man actually seemed...shaken, or something.
   A look and voice of concern. "Hey," she said. "You okay?"
   But Otto blinked. Came around, or so it appeared. He started walking, and Sharon walked beside him.

* * * * *

   Fallah stood behind the counter in her apothecary shop. Her assistant, a young man, behind her at the table, mixing up a new batch of potions. Another army unit put in another order for these potions. Dysentery, apparently, was becoming a huge problem out somewhere on the front of the civil war.
   It only slightly concerned Fallah what side the unit was on; she hadn't bothered to ask. Money was money, and she needed it to fund her business...and her various rebel causes.
   An old man was in the shop. Browsing. The same old man who came in every week. And it was almost every other week that he actually bought something.
   Fallah stood behind the counter. Her hands entwined. Smiling cordially.
   The old man browsed and browsed.
   But this wasn't one of those weeks. So he left without buying anything.
   Fallah glanced down to her hands on the counter. A huff of air from her nose. And she went into the back room and pulled out another crate of ingredients for the dysentery-relief potion and walked back out to the table with her assistant and set the crate down and started helping with the batch.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

When they reached a little before the apothecary, Volkhard stopped them.

"You lass wait for our signal to come in, Otto, your with me." Volkhard said in a commanding voice before moving for the apothecary. Otto simply nodded and followed.

Just before they entered, Volkhard stopped Otto again, looked like he was whispering somthing...

***************************************************************************
The door to the apothecary creaked open, as a well groomed mustached man with a eyepatch on his face peaked his head in.

Scanning the room, he nodded to the lady at the counter.He slowly entered, looking around as if he was a customer, before his eye fell upon the old man. He moved his towards where the old man was looking, before looking back at the door.

"Are you looking for somthing to cure foot fungus." the big man said, keeping his eyes on the door.

A minute later a man in the overcoat entered, glancing around the room, before heading stright for the counter.

When he got there, he was glancing around the room, before he leaned against the counter. His eyes were empty when he began to stare at Fallah.

"There so one I would like to see, I have a problem that...only he may have the remedy have." The man in the overcoat said in a raspy and gravely voice, he gave the women a dead stare.

Valtxr

   The sun was almost at its apex for the day. Close to noon. And though clouds still dominated the sky, a break in them. A brief shining down on Reajh.
   Fallah's Remedies. This was the place.
   Sharon nodded in response to Volkhard. And Merissa said, "We'll be waiting."
   And they stood at the edge of the street, close to Fallah's and the adjacent building, but not too close. Merissa struck up a topic. Idle conversation. Just two women having a little chat.
   Sharon occasionally glanced at the random passersby on the street.

   The mustached man caught the old man before he left the shop.
   "Oh no. Back pain," said the old man in a quiet voice. He looked to be pushing seventy years old. "Been a ship builder for forty-five years, lad. Always lifting and heaving things. Surprised I made it as long as I did."
   Fallah stood up from the table and let her assistant continue fulfilling the military order of potions once she heard chatter in the shop. She went back to the counter and entwined her hands and smiled as she should smile and eyed the regular old man and the mustached man with the eyepatch.
   Then another man entered. Passed by the two having the conversation. A man in an overcoat. And he came straight up to the counter.
   "How can I help you today?" Fallah asked.
   Then he spoke. And there was something about this man, something in his voice or in his appearance or in the sinister combination of both, that sent a cold shiver down her spine.
   She wet her lips. Said, "Well, perhaps I have the remedy you seek. I have quite the wide selection of potions, tonics, salves, you name it. And if I don't have it ready made in the shop, you can place an order and I'll get started on crafting any specialized potions for you. Please, just let me know, I'd be happy to assist."

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"Your going need some pain killers." the big man said as he kept his eyes fixed on the door.

"I am looking for a man... a man you hide in this shop." The man in the overcoat said, his tone never changing, his icy stare seemed to shoot icicles stright through the women. "We both know who I am talking about. I need somthing from him, and I do not intend to harm him or you to achieve it but if you are to prove difficult then I have no other choice." THe man spoke in his tone, but his dialogue was also smooth and he never stuttered. He was here for business and it was as plain as white bread.

Valtxr

   The old man reached up and scratched his beard. "Hmm...I usually take tonics made with Apoxien. Hasn't been so effective as of late. Any recommendations?"
   He either didn't hear or didn't care about the increasingly tense conversation behind him, with the shopkeeper and the overcoated man.

   Fallah struggled to maintain her smile.
   Who was this man? Did he...did he know about Strathus? Was he part of some other rebel cell? She couldn't be sure. He wasn't part of hers. He hadn't mentioned the blue mortar and pestle either.
   Maybe this was a mistake? Some sort of misunderstanding? Possibly. Maybe he was looking for a man, someone other than Strathus, and he just got some bad intel.
   One thing was for certain. Whether or not it was actually Strathus that this mystery man was looking for, he believed she was harboring someone.
   Still, her first instinct was to continue her feigned ignorance. Perhaps if he started causing too much of a scene, the fellow with the mustache and the eyepatch would intervene. The old man could even call for help outside.
   "I believe you may be mistaken, sir," Fallah said. She gestured back to her assistant at the table behind the counter. The young man glanced up and gave a little wave. "It's just my assistant and I here. We sell potions. Tonics. Remedies of a natural variety. That's all. If someone's told you otherwise, I'm...well, I'm afraid that you have been misled."
   Behind the wooden counter, Fallah's right foot tapped the floor nervously.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"Try the one where they mix a frog foot in it." said Volkhard, glancing at the counter for a moment before back to the door. "It smells terrible but it's plenty strong, plus it's much more abundant then Apoxien. Still, I hear there's this fella in town who does this thing called "acupuncture" where they stick needles into ya. But I hear it's relatively painless, and it can ease much of the pain anywhere on the body.

"I do not suppose you also sell blue motars or pestles either." The man said, never losing his cool as he kept staring daggers at the lady.

Valtxr

   The old man waved his hand. "Ah. Not a big fan of needles, I fear. One too many collisions with spiny bushes as a lad."

   Sharon stole a glance at the shop. She saw a bit of Volkhard, though the door blocked most of her sight of the man. The glare from the sun made it difficult to make out Otto and Fallah.
   What was taking so long? Something go wrong?
   Her hand rested idly on her reserve pistol.

   Fallah blinked.
   Oh. So he did know the code. Hard to say how he might have come about the knowledge of it. But the chances of him being a friendly outweighed those of him being hostile, despite however brusque his attitude may be. If he knew it, that meant somebody in the rebel cell trusted him; cell members would rather die than expose their harbored mages to Reajh authorities.
   She eyed the other two customers: the old man and the mustached man.
   Careful. Don't draw attention. This is no big deal.
   "Oh, most certainly. I do offer some apothecary crafting supplies and tools in addition to my remedies. Please, follow me." Then, to her assistant, "Lenius, please watch the front for me."
   "Yes, ma'am." The young man put aside his work on the next potion and stood from the table and moved to the counter.
   Fallah walked over to the door leading to the back room of the shop. Opened it. Smiled. Gestured for the overcoated man to enter with her.
   "Let's see if we can find something you like."

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"Hold on for a bit." said Otto, not moving from his spot. "THere's more then just me."

Volkhard caught a glimpse of a gesture from Otto hand, right now hidden from the view of the two over the counter.

He put his hands on the old man and said. "Ah, I see, then I think you should get a message instead, I know the perfect place."

He more or less forced the old man to follow him. Once he was outside with him, two the two women it seemed that he was giving directions to the old man, before gently pushing him into the crowed.

Once Volkhard was sure he was gone, he looked over to where the women were at, and gave them a gesture to come over.

Valtxr

   That had to be it. The signal.
   Sharon finished her sentence, gave a slight nod to Merissa—whose back was to Volkhard—and started toward the shop. Merissa followed.
   Here goes nothing.
   Down into another cage. Down into another monster's den.
   All to make a deal with one form of evil in order to fight another.
   Sharon swallowed. Pushed open the door to the shop. Entered with Merissa.

   Fallah stood by the door to the back room of the shop. Eyed the two new women with no small amount of anxiety. It also appeared that the mustached man was part of this group.
   Each new person, a risk. Each new person, a potential leak. Each new person, a danger to herself and her fellow rebels and the innocent mages and magical creatures they harbored.
   She looked to the woman with the reddish-orange hair. The one with the double pistols on her belt. The one with a hand resting idly on one of her guns.
   The woman looked back at her.
   It was as if they both shared the same apprehension.
   Fallah glanced back to the overcoated man. Said, "Is this it?"

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

Volkhard let the two entered before backing into the room himself and closed the door.

Turning back, he could see Otto, still leaning against the table but now nodding his head at Fallah. "Just the four of us, no more."

Valtxr

   "Good," Fallah said. "Come with me."
   She led the way into the back room, and Sharon and Merissa followed. Lenius, the assistant, stayed up at the counter and idly watched the front door of the shop.
   Sharon glanced around the back room. Barrels, crates, racks of bottles and corks and bowls and spoons and knives and tongs and all sorts of other equipment. Fallah had to light the lantern once she closed the door behind them. Then she stood by one particular barrel, no different from the others stacked up around it.
   "Let me talk first," she said. "Introduce the four of you to him. Names. Now."
   "Sharon." Then she pointed to the others. "Merissa. Volkhard. Otto."
   Fallah nodded. "Good enough. I'll introduce you, then leave, and you can have your word with him. Don't make any sudden movements. No fires while you're down there. Just be direct and say what you need to say only. Now then."
   Fallah opened the top of the barrel. Reached inside. Pressed or touched something out of sight.
   And the center of the back room's floor seemed to shift. The wood becoming hazy and out of focus, much like the distant heat distortions of a hot day. Where once there was a smooth floor, straight boards of wood, now a large square trap door.
   A cold chill ran down Sharon's spine. She could never get used to the sight of magic.
   Fallah kneeled down and reached her hand into the small slit of the trap door and pulled it up, revealing a short ladder down to a small room. A few dark blue runes etched on the walls.
   Then Fallah blew out the lantern, extinguishing its flame. Nothing but the magical light of the runes from below. A meager light.
   Fallah and Sharon and Merissa all climbed down the ladder. Cramped into the small landing.
   And the iron door Laython spoke of was right in front of them.
   Sharon watched Fallah step forward and place her hand on the door with no small amount of trepidation. Sharon tried her best to calm herself. Or to at least appear so on the outside.
   The door shuddered at Fallah's touch.
   Runes lit up on the iron.
   A loud, metallic ker-chunk.
   And the door swung itself open.

   The smell was the first thing that hit Sharon. Like the Pit, but far worse. Old, musty, sour air, permeated with the smothering scent of the volatile drugs in the walls.
   More of the blue runes scattered along the walls, the floor, the ceiling. The only sources of light. Still, the haze and the overall dimness of the room made it difficult to see. A few tables, here and there, large piles and messes of parchments and books and orbs made of a glass-like material on them.
   An altar, or what appeared to be an altar, at the far end of the room. A yellow light coming from it, the brightest in the room. Two pedestals were a part of it, each with a human skull on top.
   And Strathus stood between the pedestals, facing the altar. His back to them. His long, gray, unkempt hair reaching down below his shoulders. A dark, sleeveless robe.
   A noise. Coming from him. A sharp hiss of air. Followed by a long, drawn out release, like a strained wind. Rhythmic.
   Fallah spoke quickly, "Strathus, this is Sharon, Volkhard, Otto, and Merissa. They'd like to speak with you. They are guests."
   And with that, Fallah left as quickly as she had spoken.
   Strathus said nothing. Only straightened out his back. The hiss and flow of air from him.
   And the iron door swung shut on its own.
   Merissa spoke next, smiling even though he couldn't see it. "My dear Strathus, how have you been? A pleasure to speak with you again. Surely you remember me?"
   Strathus said nothing.
   "I'd love to have a little chat with you. We never did have that cup of tea together. Perhaps you'd like that?"
   Finally, the sorcerer spoke. His voice distorted. Muffled and enhanced at the same time by something. "I once knew a woman. Named Merissa. But I've seen her death. A knife plunged into her back. A tragedy. This Merissa then, who speaks now, only waits to become a ghost. Or time has slipped from me yet again. And I am speaking to an illusion."
   Strathus turned around.
   And Sharon reflexively grabbed the handle of her holstered pistol. Forced herself to let it go.
   The flesh was melted over Strathus' right eye. His face, old and ragged and pale. And he wore a black mask over his mouth and nose, resembling a muzzle. A faint blue glow emanated from underneath the metal of the mask, mostly hidden. A rush of air from the valve on the right side of the mask. A slow release of it from the valve on the left.
   The fingers of his right hand flexed. "Shall I purge these illusions?"
   Merissa, still smiling, slowly backed away and stood behind Volkhard.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

The two bodyguards followed them down to the lair, while Otto had an easier time squeezing through Volkhard struggled just a bit to not hit his head. Otto was glancing around the darkness once his eyes were adjust with the dim like, spying for any surprises.

Once they entered the room, Otto brought his shield to his chest and gripped his great mace a bit tighter. Otto stood feet apart, his hands were crossed and he was still looking around the room.

It's mages like him that give all the mages a bad name. Volkhard thought to himself. Still, let's see what he can do.

As Volkhard watched Merissa step behind him, looking at the old man, shield ever ready. He glanced at Otto, who seemed unfazed about this entire ordeal, then at Sharon

"Is this time to be asking questions?" He whispered to Merissa as he looked back at the mage.

Valtxr

   "Oh, certainly," Merissa whispered back. "I merely thought old Strathus would've still fancied that cup of tea."
   Sharon took a cautious step forward. Her right hand up in a calming gesture. "Easy. We've just come to talk. That's all. I just want to ask something of you."
   Strathus dragged his gaze from Merissa to Sharon. Looked her up and down. "And thus the illusion speaks. But I will not be fooled, for I have mastered these magicks. Now let us see if you truly are real."
   Strathus whipped his left hand up. Aimed his palm at the group. And a brilliant flash of red light burst forth.
   Both Sharon and Merissa were looking right at it, and the spell took hold on them. Clawed its way deep into their minds to expose their greatest fears.

   Blackness all around Merissa.
   And there. There was Charles. Standing. Looking at her and Niko.
   He couldn't see it. The monster. Right behind him. Merissa ran forward, calling out to him.
   And Charles turned. His back to her. His eyes on the monster. Said something. He knew this was coming.
   The gunshot tore through his chest. A spray of blood. His body falling down. Betrayed.
   Merissa clutched Niko. Yelled at the monster to back away.
   But Niko slipped from her grasp. Cried out to her. The monster had him. Her son, her precious son. Within her sight, but beyond her reach.
   The pistol. To Niko's head. The gunshot.
   Merissa shouted his name as the life fled from his eyes.

   Blackness all around Sharon.
   Her stomach rumbled.
   She was alone. No Siro. No one.
   But not for long. Faceless people approached. Surrounded her. Stood there. Stared. Looked down on her.
   And Sharon was small. And growing smaller. Insignificant. Nothing. Worthless.
   She pleaded with them. No. Don't do this. Please.
   Unheeded words. Deaf ears. And her stomach rumbled painfully.
   Someone pushed her. As did another. Then someone shoved her to the ground. The people towered over her. Sharon curled into a ball. Shielding herself.
   It did no good. The people raised their feet and stomped on her. Kicked her. Spit on her. Their feet driving her further into the ground.
   Sharon tried to scream. But a foot smashed into her mouth. Slid down her throat. Choked her. Violated her.
   And her stomach rumbled as it began to eat itself.


   It only lasted a few seconds, in real time. But it seemed an eternity in their minds.
   Both Sharon and Merissa had fallen to the ground. Both screaming in fear. Both clutching their own bodies.
   Strathus tilted his head as he observed them. Breathed through the mask's apparatus.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"RIGHT HAND!" Volkhard yelled, but it could be compared to a roar, as he brought his shield hand up to his face. 

When the two women fell to the floor screaming in pain, Volkhard gritted his teeth. He had seen many spells and tricks mages used on during his days on the campaign trail, though they were not exactly like this spell, he would assume that the spells he had seen were similar in nature. Some sort of spell that played with the victims mind, most likely.

Volkhard glanced over to Otto, who had was shielding his eyes with his arm and looking away from the light. Seemed he had assume the same thing of the light, and in his other hand he held a knife at the ready, with the blade facing up.

Volkhard was now gripping his mace tighter. He roared again. "I'M GIVIN' YA ONE CHANCE TA BACK DOWN! OR YOUR GOING TO BE TURNED FROM A SAD SACK OF FLESH INTO A PILE OF DUST!"

(If you want to invade there minds go ahead, got somthing planned for that.)

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