Hide and Seek
Hide and Seek
Continued from here.
The three unusual allies broke past the guards. Praetorum the ithecal, Anos the mortalborn, and Amaris the fairly ordinary individual who was easily overshadowed by the heights of the former.
Except for the biqaj who was closer to their diminutive figure. Coated in fresh blood, the biqaj held the short sword in one hand and a newly acquired dagger in the other. They grinned. While Anos and Praetorum had been content to tackle and move past without much else, and Amaris had quickly followed, the biqaj had lingered to swiftly take the lives of the guards near the open door.
They hurried past, now, down a long narrow corridor that had no doors. Only torches set against the walls. At the far end, a spiral staircase loomed.
“Come on,” the biqaj shouted at the other three. “They’ll be on us soon enough if you don’t pick up those big slow feet of your’s!”
A pair of guards appeared from the upward portion of the stairs. They drew their weapons upon seeing the group. Going back wasn’t an option. Blood pooled at the threshold but the door had slammed shut to block any more prisoners getting through.
Rather than leave it to the ithecal to figure out tactics in the incredibly narrow hallway, the unnamed biqaj rushed forward alone. Their petite form maneuvered in the narrow space with ease. A swipe of the sword, a stab of the dagger, and the helm rolled off one of the guards. He gurgled blood that bubbled out of his mouth and torn throat.
The other guard lifted a medium battle-hammer and swung at the nimble killer. The biqaj dodged. The hammer fell onto the dying guard instead.
“Oh Ymir, oh Myrkvior, I'm sorry!” swore the wielder of the hammer, lifting it back up but obviously rattled by having accidentally hit his wounded buddy.
The biqaj kicked forward, knocked the guard slightly off balance then used the fleeting opening to slide the sword through the back of the guard’s neck as the helm lifted just enough to do so. The guard fell forward, sword impaled in the neck, instantly dying from the strike.
“Don’t just stand there,” snapped the biqaj. They twirled the dagger with a grin, then grabbed a second dagger from the dead guard’s belt. They left the impaled sword sticking out the neck. “There’s going to be more coming, let’s go!”
The white-haired biqaj headed down the spiral staircase in a sprint.
Past three doors, the biqaj pivoted and stopped at a fourth. They knelt in front of it, set the two daggers to the side, then took out a few thin metal implements from a narrow string that’d been hidden on their thigh like a garter belt of charms. With two of the thin sticks, the biqaj started to pick the lock of the door.
The biqaj said, “Keep an eye out and watch my back! Shouldn't take me long.”
The sound of armor echoed off the staircase walls. Shouts could be heard. As the biqaj attended to the door, a trio of guards appeared on the stairwell: sword, spear, and axe.
They moved into a triangular formation with Sword at the front arrowhead point.
“To your knees, prisoners, hands behind your head,” snapped Sword behind his helm. “Now!”
You may do, say, behave, act however you like.
- play to the level of your skills (if you want a chance of success).
- you do not have access to...
- any domain magic.
- any marked abilities.
- any mortalborn abilities.
- dreamwalkers: you are unable to access Emea.
- some passive visual mutations will show, more active mutations will not.
- some Blessed markings will show, but the abilities remain inaccessible.
- you do not have any of your original clothes or belongings on you.
- you are unable to dream, thus when you are asleep, you are blacked-out unconscious.
- Praetorum: Your wrists are still shackled to the collar.
- There are three guards at the ready to fight.
- You cannot go back the way you came (it is a dead-end).
- You are on a stone spiral staircase with an up and a down available.
- The trio of guards are on the upper part of the stairs.
- The biqaj is trying to pick the lock of an unknown door.