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[Karnewarrior]

I suspect what we seek is forward, at the center of Dread (or perhaps, he IS Dread).

That said, the typical RPG strategy should hold well here. Left-most path, maybe we'll find a mook who can tell us what's going on here.

[Silleh Boy]

((I figured the best way to take the uncertainty (maybe I read it wrong, being tired and all!) over the direction was to go onwards
also:

I suspect what we seek is forward, at the center of Dread (or perhaps, he IS Dread).

If I didn't have other plans i'd have pinched that idea - even though Dread, would be a more Enlightened themed name - though I do vaguely recall Ego being nicknamed dread by someone, as he had a habit of being shot up.

Some writing critique: Good, but a bit wordy in the middle. Also, mentions of pressing onwards into moist holes to the sound of soft groans distracted a bit and ruined the mood :p

Fffffff- Now I see it, too.
Also, I wasn't really happy with it (or this one!) as I felt my writing to be a little weak, but, I am rather rusty, so I have my excuse!))

---

"We should check-" you started as you gestured with your torch towards the lefthand passage, only for Anne's voice to ring out behind you in a frustrated manner as she interrupted you.

"I smell decay from that direction, we won't find anything there but the dead!"

"I understand that you're none too keen to be in the presence of those that have been slain, but, I might be able to learn something-"

"You don't understand. Dead. Long enough so that we're dealing with partially exposed skeletons. Can't you smell the decay?"

"I can't, my senses aren't as keen as your own, all I can smell is blood."

Anne paused to give you what you assumed to be a look of disapproval as she stepped forwards, moving to the junction in the tunnel as she cautiously started to scent the air. You could see the manner in what this had her shiver, drawing her free arm closer to herself as she clutched the shotgun she had been given to her chest.

You could see it all, the conflicted thoughts she was having as she fought to control the manner she was instinctively reacting to the scent of decay. There was confusion, disgust and hunger all burning away beneath the surface, all betrayed by her body language.

"You're right, i've been trying so hard to block this out, that I never took note of the blood. The old blood's accompanied by something more recently spilled, maybe... Two days old?" she paused to bring her arm up to cover her nose and mouth. "If you want to go that way, I'm not following you. I won't be able to think straight, let alone control myself."

"Okay, lets press on then. I can check it out when we're heading back out, I'm also certain that Joy will be a little less affected by it than you," you responded, doing your best to give a comforting smile as you shifted to ensure the torch wouldn't obscure your face. There was little point to offering some small measure of comfort in this manner, if that measure of comfort was not seen after all.

With that you once more pressed onward, shuffling along the rough hewn floor that lead you deeper into the depths of the earth. Footfall after footfall echoed about you as the torches crackled and spat.

The sound of water steadily became a dull roar in your ears, while the faintest hint of light ahead told you that you were coming up to something noteworthy.

That wasn't torchlight, it was daylight.

The dim light of day flooded the tunnel ahead as it steadily opened up, exposing a cavern deep within the mine to you.

From above daylight, in addition to water, flooded down through a hole in the caverns roof, illuminating the stalactites and stalagmites that decorated the ceiling and floor with dull hues. Columns of stone dotted the cavern in a chaotic manner where closer to you, the ceiling was lower.

The water that came from above neatly divided the cavern into two as it cut through the middle of it, before vanishing deeper into the caverns through a hole opposite the side it had entered from.

What was most striking about this however was that the far end of the cavern where the dim light failed to fully illuminate things, appeared to be clear of the natural structures that had formed over time.

It was clear, as the ground there appeared to have been paved over.

"Here, take my torch and wait here Anne, I'm going to take a closer look at the other side of this place," you whispered as you held your torch out to the woman accompanying you. Her expression fast became a scowl as she took the torch from you, though you could tell from it that she knew that if she tried to complain, that you would fast be able to justify what you were going to do to her.

She just wanted to belong, to feel needed, useful.

You knew that well enough, yet you knew that your best option was to check this out yourself before you involved her in whatever plan came from it.

Keeping low, you started on your way towards the cleared section of the cavern that lay ahead, knowing that it was best to keep out of sight as best you could until you had a better idea of what you'd stumbled across. You knew that there was something down here, something ancient, something familiar.

Something you had encountered long ago, yet you couldn't put your finger on it just yet.

Every time you inched closer to this part of the caverns, more of it revealed itself through the gloom, showing that the floor had not only been paved off, but that it lead towards walls. Walls, that arched inwards in a great, sweeping semi-circle. Walls, that like the paving slabs had not been hewn into the rock, but constructed from blocks of it.

Beyond the lip of this wall however, you couldn't make out anything more than the faintest of glows, one that did little to illuminate whatever was above it.

It have been the remains of a fire, giving out the faintest hint of light from the dying embers, or it could have been something else.

Closer still you edged to this curious structure that had been unearthed, closer to the stream that had ensured that there was light enough for you to do this, closer still as the structure revealed a heavy iron portcullis set into its middle. Rust pitted the aged surface of the metal gate, that had once sat proud in the center of this underground structures outer walls, a structure that you could only fathom a guess at the purpose of.

A fortress of some manner?

No, that was silly.

With your head raised above one of the rocky shelfs you skulked behind, you observed this curious structure for a long moment, doing your best to drink in the few details that you were able from it, when-

Clink!

From the gloom, a projectile hurtled over the upper lip of the wall, landing a good fifteen feet from the shelf that you hid behind as it skidded to a halt. The projectile was familiar, a form of spear, one that you were certain as you pressed your head down to get out of sight, was one of many that could fly your way.

It wouldn't make sense to throw your sole weapon away, unless you had more after all.

That initial projectile however was quickly followed once you were out of sight - not by additional spears being used to try and flush you out of cover, but by words.

"Pater iacet!" came one guttural voice as it dawned upon you that the spear had been a warning shot to get your attention.

"Perfidia rex!" came another as you slowly leaned up to peek over the rim of the rock, watching as a dancing light ran the length of the wall.

"Castellum deus!" came yet another voice as the sound of marching feet filled the air, as the light dancing on the wall set braziers aflame to illuminate a sight you would never have expected to see again.

Atop the walls of the structure you realised now was half way between a fortress and a colosseum was an army of emaciated figures that bore the rotting, tattered remains of leather and cloth. Figured protected by rust pitted armour that stood atop the walls, figures that stood proud despite the state of their attire.

Figures, who you could feel even from this distance watched you with hate burning in their beady black eyes.

While these figures made no move yet, you knew that it wouldn't be long before they did. There was malice in their eyes, yet despite their superior numbers - numbers you esimated to be in the hundreds, they made no further move to assault you.

They could have easily opened up with a barrage of projectiles, hitting you before you escaped with the numbers they had, yet they waited.

They waited, while in the gloom at the top of the structures center stairs, a figure dressed in black slowly shuffled forwards.

What was your course of action to be?

[cerapa]

Wait for the figure dressed in black.

Look for possible escape paths in case they do decide to attack.

[RAM]

Try to remember.

[Armok]

How good was Annes flying now again?

Also, I recommend you RUN.

Guessing this is an undead roman legion and the shadowy figure is a necromancer who happened upon the ruins.

[Silleh Boy]

You were outnumbered and thus outmatched, you knew in this moment of reprieve that you needed to make the most of the moment, to assess what the best courses of action were from what was available to you.

Just because these mockeries of life were not marching upon you, did not mean that you were safe from them. It did not mean that you could simply wait for them to come up, to shake your hand and ask you to come inside for tea and crumpets as one would expect of civilised men.

It merely meant that you had a moment to breathe, a chance in what to safely assess their intent before you were pressed to act upon whatever plans you came up with to counter whatever they planned upon.

You needed to start with the facts, to be analytical about what you knew and what you suspected to be the case.

You had become accustomed enough to the gloom to assess what you could see of them with confidence.

The armour and attire that clung to the emaciated frames of these men was the tattered and rust pitted remains of that what had once been vibrant and proud. That what had been brilliant hues of red, plumed helmets and sweeping cloaks on the officers, and modest protection for the foot troops.

They were without any shadow of a doubt the remains of a regiment of roman soldiers, yet why they were underground, why they had became ghouls of all things, you couldn' yet put your finger upon.

The spears that they held, the pilums that made up their ranged capability would be deadly if you attempted to close in upon them as they had the advantage of a forecourt that held no cover for you. They had walls to duck behind for partial cover if you were to return fire, that made your own options of assaulting them non-existant unless they came down to fight upon your terms. Your terms would quickly result in you being overwhelmed however, as you knew that even if you were to disable one with every shot, you would be out of ammunition before they were out of men.

The weight of their armour was something they were used to moving under, yet you knew that it would still give you a slight edge if you were to flee from them. Negligable as it was, the reduction in range of motion and the additional weight would give you the edge over rougher terrain, over vaulting over the rocky shelves that you'd have to traverse to escape them.

You were going to need a major adrenaline high to do this while injured as you were, however.

At least you knew vaulting over the rocky shelves that had been formed by the passage of time, by the mineral deposit and the erosion of water, would be your best choice of escape.

You didn't want to leave unless they started pouring out of the main gate, at least not until the figure that made his slow approach to what you assumed to be a podium above the gate refreshed your memory on just who they were.

As that figure shuffled slowly into sight, you could see the flowing black robe like overcoat that garbed them hanging heavily. A coat that had too like the armour of the soldiers that surrounded them, been treated unkindly by age.

Atop the figures head was a flat topped hat that bore a moderate rim that sat atop the robe like overcoat's hood, a hood that helped to emphasise the most striking aspect of their costume.

A porcelain mask, as pristine now as it would have been back when it was created, a mask that's long beaked nose stretched out before it, a mask that's eyes reflected the light from the braziers about it. A mask, that identified this figure as something that the very name of sent a feeling of dread through your body.

A plague doctor.

"Stay yourself, weary soul," called out a voice heavy with age, a voice that echoed about you as the legion about it ceased all movement. It was as if in this moment there was no more than you and the figure that stood so far away, yet closer than you ever wanted to be to them. "Do not flee, do not panic. Lower your arms, arise, come forth and speak with me."

You could feel those words worming their way into your thoughts in a familiar manner, soothing your doubts, telling you that you should trust this figure, that you should approach with open arms. It was a power that you were familiar with, for the very nature of it was one that you felt in your own words at times, when you needed to believe in yourself as much as others needed to believe in you. This figure was ancient and in their words was a power immortal, a power akin to your own.

"Your time grows short millenial soul, why do you dawdle when the one that supresses you trails at such close proximity?" came the figures voice once more as they held out a hand in an inviting gesture. "Come, all past transgressions you have committed have been forgiven. Lower your arms, so that you may approach as a friend, so that you may be saved from the dreadful cycle that you are caught within."

You found it hard to ignore the manner in what this figures voice worked its way into your thoughts, yet you couldn't detect any hint of malice nor deceit in the weary voice that called out to you. That age heavy voice that beckoned to you was one that touched upon your own sense of exaustion from having been alive for so many centuries.

You were weary.

So very weary.

Dread slowly gave way to weariness as you considered the figures words, words that made you question the wisdom of fight or flight in this matter. Words that made you wonder if there was hope for you, if your ancient enemy was one that you had opposed for all the wrong reasons.

The plague doctors had caused the plague however.

The plague doctors were the embodiment of the taint.

Yet Anne and Joy were examples of the Enlightened, those who had embraced that nature and came out of it stronger, while the Clockworkers had used you for a gambit for power. They had used you, they had used the fear over the taint, they had taken power.

Anne, Joy, Bill and Bob, they were victims, yet they had all shown that there was hope for those that bore the taint, that the change it brought to others was...

Was...

"Don't listen to him, Eurochkoles, you awkward named bastard!" screamed a voice from nearby. It seemed that in your reverie that Anne had managed to creep up upon you. Anne, who stood atop one of the rock formations, shotgun slung over her shoulder, one hand on a column of rock, while the other held a silver pin threateningly. "I swear to You, that if you listen to him, I will stab you in the neck so hard that your next incarnation will be born dead!"

Anne's voice was frantic, fearful, tears streamed from her eyes as she held the pin aloft, her hands trembling as if she knew that she was gambling on the sole thing that could potentially have intimidated you.

Yet...

Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to feel intimidated in the slightest, you were weary and all that pin could do was disrupt your corporeal form, induce the next cycle you were to be trapped within. If anything, you were suprised you could even bring yourself to feel tired about it by now.

"Demi-mortal, do not threaten Him in this manner. Does He not deserve to escape the entrapment that has been forced upon him?"

"Silence! Only He is allowed to talk to me with such sweet words!" Anne snapped as her body trembled with barely contained rage, her fingers turning white as she gripped the pin all the more firmly.

"Come, weary soul. Leave her behind, escape your prison so that you may save her and all you care about."

"Shut up! Don't listen to him, just... Just... Come with me. I promise I won't hurt... Hurt you... I'll... I'll give you this and we can... We can leave, and we can... We can fix Joy and you can tell me how pretty I am and how useful I am. I am... I am useful, right?"

It was about now that you wanted to take a gun to your head and shoot yourself once more, yet there had to be a better course of action than that.
The question was, what was it?

[Armok]

> Cower behind Anne.

[RAM]

Command the legionnaires to leave. Hopefully the doctor will have to deal with it, which will give you a chance to clear your mind.

[Karnewarrior]

Go with Anne. She's already proven herself.

[Singularity125]

W...wow. Coming upon this story a couple days ago, and reading through it, enthralled... was really something. Especially as I worried that it was dead, only to be reassured that it had started once again.  I've just now caught up, and I have to say, bravo. Your skills with the written word are amazing.

That being said, this seems almost like the grand climax of the story, although I doubt it would end so quickly. I can't say as I trust this guy, but... while backing away and generally siding with Anne, ask the figure how escaping the cycle would enable you to save everyone. It's in-character to ask such a thing, and as a reader, well, you just have to know. Even if it's likely that his words are deceitful.

[Silleh Boy]

((Sorry the updates are slow, finding the time for them here and there's been difficult - Hopefully that'll change soon though!

W...wow. Coming upon this story a couple days ago, and reading through it, enthralled... was really something. Especially as I worried that it was dead, only to be reassured that it had started once again.  I've just now caught up, and I have to say, bravo. Your skills with the written word are amazing.

Thanks! It's always nice to know that others enjoy my writing.))

---

With infinite patience that figure stood poised upon his podium, waiting for you to pick, to choose, no doubt confident that because he had the same eternal presence that you did, that he would be chosen over Anne. He had underestimated you however, he had assumed that you would be too drawn to whatever he was promising to forget that you opposed things with good reason.

You had gaps in your memories, you knew that the damage you had done yourself in the past had taken its toll, that memories external to those physically stored still existed. It was those fleeting memories that you were willing to place your faith in, those memories in what even as a monster, you believed entirely within your cause.

A monster, but less of one than this man.

Logic, tempered by wisdom, that was what you needed to use now.

Anne, you knew needed you more than you needed her by this point, yet that was because she was a victim of her own nature, that she was fighting a losing battle against the beast within. If you were to turn your back upon her, she would lose her mind before she was able to find stable ground, she would descend into the depths of the feral rage that came with the territory. Without you she was doomed, without you she would never amount to all she could ever hope to be.

She needeed you, she needed you to save her from herself.

That wasn't to say that you could do without her however, as you knew that without her you would merely have to rely upon Joy for things that had to be done, that there would be little reason to hold onto your own fleeting humanity.

Your own...

Fleeting...

Humanity.

As you had promised Joy that you would help her, that you would save her from what you had done to her as form of repentance, Anne too, required you to save her. Anne needed you, Joy needed you and you needed your cause, your reason to fight, your reason to live. Without a cause, without a reason to fight, a goal, something to believe in, you knew you would eventually just sit and wait for the end to come.

An end, that was rapidly approaching by this point.

You still had a battle to fight, a cause to champion, people to save.

One hand reached out slowly towards Anne's as you allowed a smile to cross your lips, a brief breath drawn inwards as you let out a tired sigh. "Anne, without you I just wouldn't feel alive," you stated as you waited for her to take your hand. "I am weary from a lifetime beyond anything you can comprehend just yet, but you give me hope. You give me a reason to hold on just that little longer. You give me reason to fight, just once more for something worth believing in."

She could end it all here right here, right now, she could push the cycle once more to its start as you knew it was approaching that time, yet, you trusted her not to. You believed that she was prepared to fight against that destiny just a little longer to allow you to accomplish something worthy of your attention once more.

"I... You're damn right you need me to stop you turning into Joy the second, but we can talk about this-"

"I need answers, I promise you though, the moment they come down from that fort, we'll start running. Just wait here a second, I need to learn from him, what I may never have a chance to learn again. If you think I'm in danger of losing my senses to him... Something that I admit is a very real danger given that I can feel the same intoxicating nature that many immortals possess, I'll need you to save me."

"How will I do that?" she asked as she carefully tucked the silver pin into the strap of the shotgun, leaving it clearly on display as a reminder to you that she was still as much a danger to you as this man.

"Shock me back to my senses."

"I... Okay. But if you abandon me, I promise you, I will kill you."

With that you carefully rose from behind the rocky shelf, breathing deeply as you told yourself that you had to resist the nature of this mans words, that you had to believe in yourself. You had to be a better man than you had been so far, you had to be a hero, you had to be a saviour, you had to be more than a mere man could ever be.

You had to be true to yourself.

"Weary one, have you decided to listen to sense and permit me to save you from the cycle that imprisons you?" came that figures words as he leaned over the podium to gaze down at you, that porcelain mask he wore doing little to allow you to see the face behind it. With the gloom pierced by the flickering light of braziers, you knew you couldn't even hope to see his eyes behind the lenses that he peered from.

Eyes, the window to the soul, as it had been said.

Eyes, that would have permitted you to see something, anything of this figure, to better ascertain just whom this specific enemy of yours was. You wanted a face to put to the voice, something to make him more than a dehumanised figure that stood in opposition to you. It was easy to think of people as anything less than a person when you couldn't identify them readily as such, after all.

"I am unconvinced," you started as you stood atop that rocky shelf, clutching the nearby natural column as you drew a deep breath. You had to block out everything, you had to focus on resisting the sound of his voice, a voice that was as much a weapon as your own. "That is why I wish to ask you to sate my curiosity before I decide."

"Very well, ask your questions, so that you may better see that the path I offer is the one you must walk."

"The thousand year cycle, just what is the purpose of it?"

"Hrm. You do not know why you are kept in this loop, interesting, though not unexpected. Had to awareness of its purpose, you would no doubt have broken it long ago," the figure stated, pausing as he gestured towards the courtyard "Come, closer, so that we may speak more personally."

"There is a stream of water between us."

"I fail to see how such is of importance, as you are not of a nature that would discorporate upon passage over a body of water."

"It marks the boundry of your territory, of your world. If you wish for me to step into your world, then answer my questions, convince me that it is worth making a run for it from the one with the means to discorporate me."

"Very well. The cycle, as you took such interest in its nature, is to keep you in a state of... Pre-Ascension."

Those words didn't betray any lack of truth to you, yet, you didn't know if you could trust them. You could feel them worming their way into your consciousness once more, you could feel them telling you to believe in them, to give yourself to them.

"How would breaking the cycle permit me to save everyone, how would preventing my ascension benefit those that keep me within this cycle?" you asked, watching the motionless soldiers that lined the walls, thankful that they hadn't been ordered forward. Had they been asked to advance, you wouldn't have hesitated to run.

Well, maybe you would have hesitated, if only long enough to try and put a bullet in this figures skull.

"An immortal deprived of the peak of his potential, trapped in a state in what he is unable to truly change. How does that not benefit those that desire that no other may challenge their power?" the figure paused. "As for breaking the cycle, it would permit you to reach your full potential instead of echoing it, yet... Most importantly, it would allow you to finally discard the static purity that prevents you embracing and harnessing the essence of change. It would allow you to see the world from the eyes of those creatures, to guide the way that gift develops as few others possess the strength of will to do."

There was still nothing that you could pick up as deceit in this mans voice, nothing that made you doubt the truth of his words. Nothing that you could say made it clear that what he said was a lie, that was why you didn't know if you could trust anything he said.

Everyone had an agenda and he was hiding his lies so well, that you couldn't even sense a motive for him to be sharing these things with you, not even the one that he claimed to be pressing for.

There was no way for you to tell how much of what he had said was truth, how much of it was a lie, though some aspects of it echoed as familiar. Aspects, such as the purity of soul you possed were ones that you knew to be true, as you were an untainted immortal, unlike this figure who was no doubt twisted by the same corrupt taint that had made the Enlightened what they were.

The same taint that had created the accursed creatures that assaulted London nightly.

Was there more you desired to get answers to, despite your lack of a means to seperate truth from falsehood, or was it time for you take advantage of the headstart you had, to flee from this place before you fell to the charm of that tempting voice?

[cerapa]

He too seems to be an immortal, which brings up the question.

Why has he not ascended? He seems like the sort to do so if he could. So what is the reason that he cant, he has no cycle preventing him? The most obvious cause is that which has tainted him and other immortals we know. Thus embracing the change might work harshly against us, tainting our soul and stopping all hope of ascension, even if we escape from the cycle.

He is an immortal, and yet sits in this fortress. Ask him why this is and why he needs to hide his face and his words.

[Silleh Boy]

With his words ringing in your mind, demanding that they were listened to, obeyed and given reverence, you found yourself hard pressed to think for yourself. You knew that your own words had a similar effect on others, yet your own voice lacked the same insidious spark that this mans did. Your own voice was one that swayed opinions, won arguments, bore the weight of eternity, where as this one was almost irresistably sweet yet tainted with dark power.

The association of power with such a term was one that you didn't like to make, yet it made it easier for you to resist it when you were able to give it an objectionable nature.

Through the honeyed haze that voice brought, your thoughts continued to sluggishly rebel, picking at the little details that stood out, that you were supposed to take without question. Those details, that you shouldn't have cared about that stood out in your mind, details that you knew would allow you to learn more, to remember more, to recall what it was that this entity really was.

To remember who you really were.

Glancing back towards Anne, you found yourself met with eyes that burned with nothing but contempt coupled with a stern expression. For one who lapped up everything you said, to so easily seem to resist this mans voice made you wonder if she resisted what you said and simply followed you as she believed in you and not your words.

The hand not supporting you against the collumn reached out awkwardly towards her, seeking out her own as you let out a weary sigh. "We'll leave soon, I just have to ask one more thing. It... It is important to me to know who I am, yet, I cannot do this without you. I find it hard to resist the call of his voice, so please, hold onto me, be my lifeline." you whispered, doing your best to ensure that she would be the sole one to hear what you had said.

A slight nod was all that you garnered in response to those words, yet there was the faintest hint of a smile creeping over the corner of her lips as her hand sought out your own.

No sooner had her fingers entwined with yours and squeezed your hand reassuringly, did you turn back towards the figure, taking a deep breath as you spoke once more. This time your voice was powerful, confident, this time your words echoed with their usual authority.

"Your words may sound tempting, yet without the full picture behind them, they are hollow assurances. What is to say that if I were to accept your help, that you would not simply imprison me in a new manner?" came your words as you drew in a deep breath. You could feel the dull ache of your ribs protesting as you levelled your gaze with the figures. It was almost as if you were trying to pierce the mask that he wore, to strip him of all disguises in your presence.

Who was he to command you?

Who was he to believe that he was greater than you?

"You hide down here, within a fortified positon held by the soldiers of a bygone era, you conceal your face behind a mask. You address me from the safety of your territory, from the stone walls that... That..." you paused, laughing briefly as something worked its way through your thoughts. Realisation, an undeniable truth that had been brought to the surface. "You are afraid of me, you call me your enemy for good reason. I have toppled the walls of your fortresses before, I have marched upon your armies. I have driven you back and now... Now, you insult me for you do not have the decency to show your face when you address me, you do not have the spine to speak with me without your walls to hide behind."

You smiled, confidence flooding you as your chest swelled with pride.

"Answer me this," you continued as your gaze remained unflinchingly upon the figure. "Why have you not ascended?"

"Ah, there is the worthy and ever confident foe that we have had our... Differences with, over the centuries. I worried, I must admit, to see that this cycle seems ever more a shadow of your former glory, for you would... For you still would, require a great deal of nurturing back to your former glory, before you are once more fit to face the world."

The figures response wasn't what you had expected, nor was it an answer to your question. It was evasive, meant to distract you with further details, further promises. It was meant to prevent you from keeping focused on that what you desired to know at this point.

"Answer the question, you know as well as I that my time is limited. Evading the question merely makes me suspect that the cycle that I am trapped within, benefits you more to sustain despite your words to the contrary."

"Very well, I shall answer that question, though I must ask you first, what name does this incarnation go by?"

"Eurochkoles," you responded, without thought.

"Very well, Eurochkoles, I am one of many, we are, fittingly, I suppose you may say given the soldiers that I have surrounded myself with... We are Legion."

"Lame," Anne piped up from behind you as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Despite being rendered off balance as he was by the casual manner that Anne had dismissed him in, the figure continued with little pause. "The Enlightened are the... Child, I suppose would be the most befitting term, of one of our number. The one you knew as Pride, was their greatest work of art, though without the guiding touch of Pride that kept them all in check, they shall eventually all become little more than... That what goes bump in the night."

The figure paused to carefully peel the hood he was wearing back, to remove the mask that he was wearing as flawless yet pale skin came into view from behind it. Flawless skin, coupled with familiar, piercing blue eyes, eyes that gazed upon you listless with age as they seemed to glow faintly in the gloom. "As for the nature of the taint and its touch upon my ascension, yes, it is true that I am too tainted to ascend at this time, yet this is a choice I have made. Like you, I remain here an architecht, unlike you, I remain here of my own free will."

"Come on, lets go before he claims he's your son or something," Anne hissed as she moved closer to you, promoting you to glance at her, squeezing her hand as you nodded imperceptibly.

"I'm with you, I get the feeling I won't get a straight answer from him after all," you responded, glancing back towards the figure as you called out to him once more. "I would rather take my chances, than resign myself to your designs."

"This is unfortunate. If you will not co-operate willingly, then you must be made to co-operate," the figure stated as he swung one arm forwards, giving the order to attack with little more than a gesture. No sooner had he done so, than the ghoulish figures atop the walls started the pour from atop them, leaping into the paved courtyard with shields raised and swords drawn.

With Anne tugging on your hand, you prepared to turn, to run from the swarm of soldiers, knowing that at best all you could hope to do was take a few potshots to slow them down. That, or deliver a final insult to their master, in the form of cranial trauma.

Releasing the collumn, you reached for your belt, plucking the revolver from it as you carefully took aim, yet...

Yet, something was wrong.

Everything seemed to be moving at a snails pace as you felt pressure building in your head, as you felt a familiar sensation of pain focused upon your neck.

Voices, a cacophony of voices arguing with each other.

Every one of them your own.

A deep breath was taken as you tried to quell them, as you tried to focus, knowing that now wasn't the time for something of this nature to take root. "I am..." you started, briefly moving to brush your shoulder against your neck as paranoia told you to ensure that you hadn't been jabbed with that pin. There was no blood, it was just your mind playing tricks on you, or...

Or...

You weren't sure what else it could be, yet those voices grew louder, threatening to overwhelm you, threatening to be the one that called out now.

You were Eurochkoles, you were Eurochkoles, you were...

Eurochkoles, the thousand year soul?
Bastion, destroyer of empires?
Isaac, the rage of the oceans?
The Aspect of Heka, magic incarnate?

[Armok]

> Heka

[cerapa]

> Heka

Seconded.

EDIT: Im just thinking...wasnt there a game of this with multiple players? I remember myself being an alchemist or somesuch.