Back at last! Sorry for the little hiatus with this, my schedule's been completely fucked as of late, so finding the time has just been a hassle. I'm confident in saying that I think it was well worth the wait, though. This update is fairly long, action-packed(really, damn near everyone in the group has some moment of badassery at one point), and gives the potential for plenty of awesome decisions/suggestions. I'm going to try putting a little more effort into getting updates out earlier, but with a life as varied and unpredictable as mine, nothing is certain.
Now, read on and enjoy the epic:
Sock puppet man leaps into the air to kung-fu fight the air, he goes over to pet your should with his bare hand but his sock puppet begins to speak. "Let it go, nobody here needs you. Hehe, all you are is a waste of space." Sock Puppet man, looks to the sock puppet and hits it over the head once. "Bad man. Dirt man is nice man aren't you dirt man?" The dirtied and still somewhat drunk Sock Puppet man sits next to you. Rocking back and fort a little, playing a rhythm on his legs with his one bare hand.
As I lay in the smoke-filled mountain hall, moments from death and entranced by the relaxing sounds of the storm, the Sock Puppet Man leaps through the air, while preforming a brilliant array of martial arts techniques, before landing beside me. My state of acceptance and inner peace is then disrupted when I overhear him having a small dispute about me with his sock puppet. Goddamn it, now I'm pissed again. Even during my last seconds of life, I can't enjoy a minuscule moment of bliss. And what's more, instead of actually doing anything to help me, he decides to sit down and have a little drumming session on his legs. Fantastic.
As angered as I am right now, I do have to admit that he has a nice beat going.
>shout your lungs out (literally)!
Fan head: out of nowhere, leap at the weremandrill and grind its head into nothingness, then, leap out of the fort and fight the zombies
Spiritual Fan head: "why dont you stay still?!"
Bronze dwarf: go raeg outside fighting those zombies
Engraver: the engravings become live beings! He was a drawmancer all along!
>shout your lungs out (literally)!
Alduin: Arrive near DZA and burn out/distract weremandrill Ezio, fixing the plot. Then go after DZA.
DZA: Run away, shout everywhere to make rubble fall, possibly on Alduin's head.
Now exceedingly enraged at my current situation, I look directly into the eyes of the vampiric, undead, nightcreature assassin, as he wraps his hands around my neck, and prepares to sink his teeth into my head like it were a succulent Thanksgiving roast. Focusing, I take a deep breath, in order to say what may very well be the last words I ever speak...
"FUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-", I shout with every last bit of power I can muster. The entire mountain begins to quake, and sections of the mountain hall can be heard collapsing in the distance. Unluckily, I am only able to shout for a fraction of the time I had planned to. As it turns out, the force of my ferocious shouting was so great, it caused my lungs to turn inside out, and tear away from their respective places in my thoracic cavity, before flying out of my body via my mouth, and into the face of my would-be murderer. Ow. Not the most enjoyable experience in the world, I can assure you.
As my throat quickly starts to fill with blood, the assassin, still keeping me firmly held down, is distracted from his bloodlust, and begins to simply look around awkwardly, unsure about how to react to being pelted in the face by a pair of inverted lungs.
The awkward pause lasts for what seems like ages, before the uncomfortable silence is suddenly broken by the sound of whirling metal blades. And subsequently, the sound of brain and bone being ground into a fine mist. Blood now flowing from my mouth, I momentarily stop focusing on my inability to breath, and watch as the now headless body of the vampiric, undead, nightcreature assassin(I think I'll just refer to him as VUNA, from now on. Much simpler, and has a nice sort of ring to it) lifelessly falls over, while the bloodied blades of the fan headed raptor's fan head slow to a halt.
Before I can offer any kind of thankful gesture to raptor, it leaps up toward the ceiling, and, using its powerful fan head to tunnel its way through the stone, bursts out of the mountainside, before charging down into the gathering horde of undead elephants that have begun breaking out from the mass of cooled magma that now blankets the landscape. Just a few moments later, the raptor's more etheric counterpart speeds upward through the tunnel as well, in pursuit of its physical body.
Pushing the headless corpse off of me, I stand up, displeased by the amount of blood I'm getting on my nice outfit, only to realize that the flaming zombie dwarf horde is now only several seconds away from closing in on me, or at least that's my best guess. The smoke makes it difficult for me to tell exact distances.
For some reason, however, their advance comes to a sudden halt, as an enraged shout, nearly rivaling my own moments ago, is heard echoing thoughout the mountain hall. From the sounds of it, whatever it is originating from is approaching at quite a rapid pace.
Just then, the bronze-clad dwarf charges through the flaming zombie dwarf horde like a stocky little football player, knocking them out of the way without the slightest effort. Leaving a path of broken and trampled flaming zombie dwarves behind him, the bronze-clad dwarf runs toward the sealed off entrance of the mountain hall. Oddly enough, though, instead of slowing down moments before colliding with the wall of igneous rock, he actually seems to speed up. Much to my disbelief, rather than splattering himself upon it like some overly ripe, bearded tomato, he manages to crash straight
through it, creating a long, dwarf sized tunnel through the igneous rock.
During this fit of anger-fueled tunneling, the bronze-clad dwarf runs into one of the still-encased undead elephants, and freezes in his tracks. Gazing upon the the large, decomposed mammal, his mind is uncontrollably flooded with the painful memories and emotions of his past. Before long, the flashbacks begin to feel unquestionably real, and it is as if he is reliving the horrors of Boatmurdered all over again. Then, he snaps.
The bronze-clad dwarf has gone berserk!The bronze-clad dwarf breaks through to the surface, and begins to tear the undead elephants limb from limb. Limbs which then reanimate, and continue to fight. The bronze-clad dwarf's response to this is to tear them into even smaller chunks, creating a cycle that continues until the bits of elephant are simply too small to do anything. This is good news for the fan headed raptor, who was starting to get worn out fighting them all off on his own.
As the bronze-clad dwarf's rampage continues, the power held within the rain is absorbed into his body, unlocking an ability of tremendous force to be unleashed at will.
The bronze-clad dwarf has gained the ability: FUS RO DAH! If he wasn't blinded by his berserk rage, he might have noticed it by now.
(technically, I guess the fan headed raptor and undead elephants have gained this new ability as well. But, due to being unable to pronounce the required phrase to activate it, it seems they're just a tad out of luck)
Back within the brewery-esque room, chaos ensues. It would seem that the other Boatmurdered surviving dwarf is not just your run-of-the-mill, mentally scarred, death obsessed engraver. Perhaps it was something deep inside him channeled through his rage, or perhaps he was simply waiting for the right time to use it, one way or another, his hateful engravings suddenly became imbued with life, causing them to no longer be bound to the cold walls of stone.
Deafening screams fill the air, chanting curses, swears, and other generally offensive language in the dwarven tongue, almost as if the mountain hall itself is damning all who dwell within. Racist, stereotypical depictions of various beings peel themselves from the walls, transforming from simple etchings into living, breathing entities. The room begins to fill with blood, gore, and many other things of an unpleasant nature, as engravings of war, torture, rape, famine, and total insanity(and not uncommonly, various combinations of them all) become just as real as the dwarf who created them. Armok cackles with joy at the sight of such loathing and bloodshed.
Meanwhile, I find myself busy fighting off the reanimated(and now headless)VUNA corpse, along with the horde of flaming zombie dwarves, and the various flaming appendages that I continue to liberate from their bodies. Despite feeling absolutely shitty health-wise, I'm actually doing an alright job at holding them off. Must be some sort of instinctual 'Final Stand' response to the current situation, considering how close I am to falling unconscious again. Apparently lack of oxygen, combined with massive internal bleeding, can make you feel pretty light-headed.
Due to the tunnels made by the bronze-clad dwarf and the fan headed raptor, the smoke isn't quite as thick anymore, and coughing hasn't been nearly as much of a problem after the loss of my lungs. I still wouldn't call the situation ideal, though. Eh, at least I now know, without a doubt, that there is no possible way for things to get any worse than they are n- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?!?
Alduin the World Eater out of fucking nowhere!Suddenly, a great dragon crashes through the mountainside and into the mountain hall, causing stone and dust to fly everywhere. The flaming zombie dwarves are violently blown back by the dragon's entry, yet me and my headless opponent are able to hold our ground. The fan headed raptor and the bronze-clad dwarf begin to dodge the flurry of rock that rains down upon them, as they continue to do battle with the remaining undead elephants.
After a quick look around, the dragon sets its sights on the VUNA, and breathes a powerful wave of fire that travels all throughout the main hall. The flaming zombie dwarves caught in the attack are instantly turned to ash, as the heat of the dragonfire far exceeds that of the normal flames they have grown accustomed to being engulfed in. Most of the flesh on the VUNA's body is incinerated, leaving little more than charred bones held together by the dark forces of the land, yet he still stands. Lacking any suitable place to take cover, all I can do is turn away as the dragonfire rushes through the hall. Besides some singed beard hairs, and the added discomfort of the intense heat, I am for the most part unaffected by the dragon's fire. Man, this armor is amazing.
The dragon then runs down the hall toward me and my headless(and now mostly skeletal) foe, with the intent of finishing us both off. Creating cracks the walls and ceiling with every monstrous step. The dragon's movements cause a huge avalanche, sending even more large chunks of rock down the mountainside and toward the undead elephant fighting duo. I don't think this place is going to be able to take much more destruction...
I try to bolt down the hall and away from the charging dragon, but fail to get very far before collapsing, my adrenaline seems to have finally run out. My lack of air and loss of blood is finally taking it's toll on my body. Somewhat fortunately, the VUNA is less willing to retreat, and instead uses his masterful agility to hop onto the dragon's head as it approaches, furiously clawing at various parts of its face.
The relentless scratching of his bony little fingers agitates the dragon, who begins flailing around in an attempt to shake him off, slamming into the walls of the mountain hall. Though try as he might, the charred, headless assassin refuses to let go.
Admiring engravings of cheese, drinking an incredible amount of booze... isn't it obvious yet? You're a weredwarf!
> King DZA looses a roaring laughter, fell and terrible!
> King DZA has claimed a butcher's shop!
I begin to cringe as I lay half-conscious on the floor. Something doesn't feel right....Well, lots of things don't feel right at the moment, but this feels especially unright. My beard begins to tingle, I feel my bones shrinking and compressing, and all of a sudden, my hangover completely disappears. In fact, I feel like I actually need even more to drink. For some strange reason, I also feel like I have developed a sudden fondness and appreciation for industry.
What an excruciating yet badass transformation...I don't know what's happening to me, but I feel miserable. I was attacked recently, I've sustained major injuries, I've witnessed death, I slept on the floor recently, I was unable to die peacefully due to noise, the smell of miasma and burning flesh in this place is disgusting, and that fucking dragon destroyed the goddamn cheese engravings!
At that very moment, I am overcome with the desire to create something...Beautiful. However, if my vision is to be brought to life, something will need to die. A sinister smile spreads across my face, if I still had the ability to laugh, I would most certainly be doing so in a fell and terrible manner. It's strange, I don't ever recall encountering a butchery anywhere in the mountain hall, yet I somehow know that one is here. Stranger yet, I know exactly where it is.
Suddenly unfazed by the fact that I could drop dead at any moment, I begin to make my way toward the butcher's shop, unable to think of anything other than my creation's completion.
>The Priest mutters a prayer to Armok, while smashing zombies with his staff.
>The Dreadlords prepare to leave, making a portal while fighting off wilddeath. Anyone familiar with the world of Azeroth would recognize the site beyond the portal. The Blasted Lands. Specifically, the Dark Portal.
I had to do at least one more thing with these guys. And look! Transportation if we need it.
Escaping the horrors of the brewery-esque room, Tasrak, something something blood god priest, has fled into the living quarters section of the ancient mountain hall. Though I guess "living" quarters would be kind of a ironic name now, considering that it's filled with zombies. Feeling pity for his undead brethren, forever trapped between the border of life and death, he kneels down, and asks Armok for assistance in liberating these lost souls.
"Huh? oh, sure. Whatever.", answers the blood god. And just in time, too. As it seems the priest's prayers have caught the attention of his undead kin. They dash toward him like a pack of starved wild dogs, and as one of the smoldering, undead dwaves jumps at him, its foul mouth stretched open and ready to tear into his holy flesh, the priest whacks it out of the air, watching as the zombie crumbles to dust upon contact with his staff.
Somewhat surprised by the blood god's gift, he gives thanks to Armok once more, before charging fearlessly into the mob of dwarven undead.
Meanwhile, due to a number of recent events, the Dreadlords that had made their home in the mountain hall are, for lack of a better term, freaking the fuck out. They struggle to divide their efforts between opening up a portal to escape into another realm, and battling against a mysterious enemy. With the mountain crumbling more and more every second, time is running thin.
As soon as the portal is complete, they rush through it without hesitation. They're in such a hurry to get away, that they don't even bother closing the newly created gateway.
>Miner: Appear all of a sudden in the sky
High above the mountain peak, the well rested miner awakes to find himself soaking wet due to the heavy rainfall in the area. It's not all that bad, though. It's actually quite refreshing. Powerfully refreshing.
The miner has has gained the ability: FUS RO DAH! He also finds himself miraculously suspended thousands of feet above ground level. At least until he realizes that he is suspended thousands of feet above ground level, after which he begins to plummet down into the chaos below. Luck is on his side, however, as the mountain is there to break his fall! Instead of falling straight down and meeting a very painful and messy end, the miner tumbles uncontrollably down the cracked and broken mountainside, before dropping through the hole created by the dragon's entrance into the mountain hall. It was still pretty painful, and the miner is definitely more messy now than before his little tumble, but it wasn't the end. In fact, this could even be considered a new beginning! A very rough, frightening, and dangerous beginning.
>Suddenly from behind the man in the golden cloak appears, and lays his hand upon the zombie flipping it over and around in a move that can only be described as pure awesomeness, then using the momentum from the flip, leaps up into the air and with a wave of his hand sends the wave of magma flying backwards.
He then lands on Alduin's back and executes finishing move WITH HIS BARE HANDS.
The dragon and the VUNA continue their duel, as the ceiling begins to show signs that it will soon give way. Having finally managed to get the scorched little bugger off his face, the dragon is having trouble being able to kill him off. His size is working against him, as it is difficult for him to move about in the cramped hall. The assassin, though much less graceful after the loss of his head, is swift enough to avoid most of the dragon's attacks. Even when the dragon
does land a successful attack, it only takes moments before he is reanimated and able to continue irritating the World Eater with his insistent scratching.
After reanimating for what has to be at least the twelfth time now, the VUNA is interrupted from his scratching by a hand placed on his shoulder. A hand belonging to the now much more badass golden cloaked man. Using surprisingly little effort, the golden cloaked man grabs the VUNA, and spins him around with the skills of a professional ribbon dancer, except his ribbon is a naked, headless, vampiric, skeletal, undead, nightcreature assassin from Italy.
After spinning his victim around at a dizzying speed, he slams the VUNA into the ground, while simultaneously jumping into the air. As the golden cloaked man concentrates, time seems to slow down. Then, with the a single hand motion, he creates an immense force that cracks and shatters the cooled magma as it's blasted hundreds of feet away. Along with the few remaining undead elephants, the fan headed raptor, the bronze-clad dwarf, and the newly arrived miner. They're probably not going to appreciate that. The monumental force leaves a gaping hole in the mountainside, many more times the size of the original entrance.
The dragon watches, bewildered by how such a scrawny(by dragon standards)being could have such great power. The golden cloaked man doesn't doesn't give the dragon much time to ponder this before landing on his back, running up his neck, and faintly tapping him on the head,
causing the skull to implode!The golden cloaked man preforms a flawless triple flip off of the dragon(who suffers a short yet agonizing demise), before realizing that he probably has a good three minutes left before the entire mountain comes down. I guess blowing a giant fucking hole in the base of it didn't really help with its stability.
So here I am. I've just located the butcher's shop, and I can at last get to work on my wondrous creation! My heart has just gotten to the point where I can't tell whether it's still beating or not, soon everyone and everything in here will be crushed under the weight of an entire mountain, and the fact my outfit is incredibly baggy now is pretty annoying, but none of that matters now, time to get started!
Name: D.Z.A.
Sex: Male.
Age: ??
Badassery Level: Epic.
Location: Fortress of Boatmurdered, realm of Xoroth.
Inventory: Ezio Auditore's assassin gear.
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Topic: You are Me, Chapter IV: Into Lands Unknown (Read 130821 times)