I Run in and Start Tearing apart the place looking for the Alchemists, If I fail to Find 'em I grab my companion, Toss him out, Light my Firebomb, and Toss it in, Who knows How Explosive that stuff Could be?
John runs into the deeper storage, rummaging through various containers and checking behind various obstructions for the fleeing alchemists. Eventually John finds both of them standing over some sort of hastily-drawn sigil. A handful of yellow dust, a bowl of silver fluid and roughly a pound of viscera are arranged within the circle. One of the alchemists mutters a few words and sets the circle alight- the resulting reaction creates a blast of concussive force and a burst of light that dazes everyone in the storage room. When the smoke settles, a muscular humanoid about 7 feet tall with reddish skin stands where the circle once was. The two alchemists pull their hands off their ears and draw their firearms and dash behind some crates for cover.
This bizarre life-form dashes right for John, swinging a hammer-like haymaker aimed right for his face. In spite of the freight-train worth of force behind the blow, John catches it one-handedly.
Ckaeyod must be lending him temporary strength. The Steelborn retaliates with a slice of his chainblade, but the homunculus catches the blade. The chains rev excitedly at contact with skin and chew open its palm. Nonetheless, the damage is entirely superficial.
Murder the drunks. There can be no witnesses. If the tavern happens to burn down, get out. Also, ask Akashir if he can give me the power to inflict severe necrosis on living creatures.
Erescal quickly slits the throats of every last drunk at the bar- 4 kills in Akashir's name.
The fire he spread burnt for 3 turns before being extinguished by a third party. Nonetheless, it was still a glory to Akashir. The murders of the drunks bring him up to a rather favored status- his request for a Necrotic Touch magick is granted without hesitation. Erescal's palms glow a sickly green for a moment before reverting to normal."Oh I'm gonna get some good shit for this!"
Set the alcohol alight.
Mortecia lights the two matches before flicking them into the pools of alcohol.
The entire tavern storage is up in flames!Mortecia flees out the front door, knowing the fire will spread very quickly.
Erescal smells the fire and vacates the building shortly after Mortecia.
"Akashir has come for you!"
Feint to the right, then attack his left side. Use my powers if I can.
Siri makes a somewhat clumsy feint to the right after yelling her battlecry. The wizened man falls for it, though, and actually drops his gun when attempting to dodge to the left.
He actually ends up aligning himself just right- Siri's dagger lodges in his guts and he gasps in pained shock. As a coup-de-grace, Siri places her free hand on his throat and uses Siphon Moisture. His skin shrivels tighter and peels off in many places while Siri feels the revitalizing tickle of drained hydration flood through her body. The defeated old man falls to the ground, mouth agape in horror. While his gushing wound darkens his already crimson robe, he reaches for his pistol and fires a last hurrah right for Siri. The shot almost misses but still ends up grazing her hip. Finally succumbing to shock, the aristocrat drops his sidearm with a clatter.
Yeeeaaah, Azur keeps a safe distance between himself and anything that seems liable to catch fire. If it's safe to go in after the firebombing, take a look around and ensure that there aren't any survivors.
Azur hears (and sees, to a degree) the commotion inside the lab's storage. Firebombing did not occur, so it is by his definition 'safe' to enter.
Azur tries to dive behind a barrel containing some form of white powder when he notices one of the alchemists taking aim at him, but slips on a little puddle of luminescent green liquid and falls right on his ass. The alchemist who fired the shot in question suffers a major weapon malfunction- his revolving pistol detonates and takes off his left hand while also setting a crate full of some flammable colloid nearby off and coating him in the fiery gel.
One alchemist down.Welp... too late to do anything to clean up this scene for any onlookers outside, on account of the huge, gaping hole in the wall. Shaking his head, Valith proceeds through said hole after his companions, gun drawn and ready. I judiciously fire a shot point-blank into the chest of any dead hermetics I find -- bullets in their bodies could give the impression that there was some internal strife and someone got trigger-happy, after all. Also see if I can loot any more of these weapons off the corpses.
Aside from that, Valith moves to cover his allies and help them root out the remaining hermetics, and also keeps a lookout for a back door which may lead to the outside. They may try to escape through there, and we CANNOT have that, no sir.
Valith the Handsome sprints into the passage and emerges in the lab's primary chamber. While he does come across the rather gory remains of a bisected Hermetic, there isn't much of a chest cavity left to plant a bullet into. The particular alchemist was equipped with a near identical model of pistol that Valith already possesses. He must have been too frightened by the Steelborn's berserk rush to think of drawing it. Valith liberates the corpse of its firearm and now wields akimbo revolvers.
Valith then remembers what he came here for- the Hermetics. Dashing into the storage after Azur and John, he finds himself sharing the room with an armed alchemist taking cover behind a huge wooden crate and some sort of artificial life-form created by the alchemists that is locked in combat with John.
While the remaining alchemist cowers behind his crate, Valith decides to assist John by taking a shot or two at the homunculus. His first shot misses wildly, but the second connects with the beast's head and blows its jaw clean off. Yellow ichor drips from the wound onto the floor below, bubbling like boiling water and rotting the wooden boards.
The homonculus' throat momentarily contracts as if it is trying to spit something up, but nothing ever exits its newly carved facial orifice.
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Topic: Roll To Heresy: A Minimalist RTD About Cults [DEFUNCT] (Read 16319 times)