It takes a village to raise a child.
It takes a small band of mercenaries to scale the decaying bonkers-huge castle of an ancient cult that once tried to bring destruction to the planet.
Don't worry. They hadn't succeeded.
They had, however, according to tales, acquired powerful artefacts that were designed to locate the natural leylines within the planet for ritualistic purposes. Of course, since they were an evil cult, their plan was to utilize these artefacts in order to not only locate the leylines but take control of the energy flowing through them in an eventual attempt to overload them and erupt the planet from within. The ultimate goal of the cult was, in their own words, to use the very magic that powered the planet in order to bring ruin to those that had suckled at its magical teat. Honestly, their manifesto included the word 'teat'.
Also, it was vital to the mission to mention that this cult had relied on piles and piles of gold in order to repair, alter and overcharge the artifact. When the cult was stopped by the legendary band of heroes that had taken them to task, the residuum left behind was lost to the ages. The mercenaries were of course not interested in the broken old magical item or any of the bits of ruined magic that lie within, but the piles and piles of gold were pretty interesting.
The mercenaries weren't an established guild or a group of wizards, simply gunhands who had decided to go in on a potential jackpot. Whoever had put them together probably had done so quickly, as there wasn't a huge manner of coordination built into the team. There was a mixture of experience, from retired soldiers covered in scars and brandishing bandoliers filled with bullets to new meat with way too many guns that were shaking at the sight of the castle. They had all been brought together and bankrolled by a mysterious man in a classy suit that called himself The Fence. He was known for, well, fencing things. It was he who wanted the old magic item, and was willing to pay the mercenaries in the remaining gold for it.
And so, like wild dogs to the scent of a fat child covered in wieners, the mercenaries lined up at the door. Among them was a young woman in thick glasses, hair mangled and slightly greasy. She wore a red and white track suit which was ill-fitting to the situation and, indeed, quite ill-fitting on her, looking as though it was the last one in the locker room. One that had belonged to a previously graduated senior that would not be missed. Around her shoulder was a bag with the out-facing flap almost entirely covered in what looked to be tin badges covered in plastic. Each one of them carried an artistic rendering of a different monster, as though she was a fan of some kind of fictional monster collectible game. A huge fan, judging by the sheer number of them.
As the group clambered up the steps, one of the Younger mercenaries tapped one of the older ones on the shoulder and gestured to the girl, who was currently stumbling on the perfectly normal sized, entirely not crumbled steps. "What do you suppose the Fence saw in her?" His voice was squeaky and quiet, as though gossiping about the new kid but almost not wanting them to hear.
The older mercenary turned his head, exposing a series of scars that dug into his face as though he had survived an attack with a mountain cat. He eyed the girl up and down and let out a dissatisfied grunt, "Something for us to do during break time." He reasoned. His voice was thick and low, matching the low rumble of thunder in the clouds. A gnarly grin spread across his face as he patted the young blood on the shoulder, causing the younger merc to lurch forward while laughing weakly. Sexual assault is hilarious.
The full group made it to the top of the stairs where the old wooden doors were partially pulled open, a gash missing where the handle had been. Whoever had raided this place in the olden days clearly hadn't seen fit to clean up after themselves. The Sexual Assault Merc stepped forward and examined the door. "What in the hell did this…?" He murmured to himself, but also to everyone else, because what's the point of being cool if no one else can hear you, "We're lookin' at some kind of big… bear? Someone in there had a trained bear?"
"Werewolf," Said a voice in the back. It was so quiet that the thunder almost gobbled it up. Still, it was enough for the entire mercenary group to look back at the owner, who had her hands wrapped tight around the strap of her bag, and was staring up at the castle. She hadn't said anything in the five hour trip to the castle, so when she opened her mouth all eyes turned to her. Her voice was even toned and almost disinterested in her own speech. "To rip the door of this size fully off its hinges would take about 2500 pounds per square inch of brute force, which the breaker didn't have, judging by the slight chipping around the hinges, it was enough to pull it but not off. However the handle would have been bolted in, meaning the thing that it would have been connected to most is itself. It would only take about 800 pounds of force to tear it from the rest of the wood, less if some damage had been done to the door before. Looking closely you can see an arrow stuck thirty three inches above the door handle and scorch marks from a weaker fire spell curtaining the ground below your feet. Someone was trying to open the door without wasting their most powerful tools to do so. They knew the greater challenges lie ahead. And what is easier to utilize without weakening than magical strength. Once some small amount of damage had been done around the edges, likely by the same creature that finished the job, the door handle would've come off with little effort, making it simple to unfasten the drawbar. A trained bear or full shapeshifter would have the strength necessary to charge through without incident. A smaller hybrid creature would require weakening the handle before tearing it off."
There was a silence so loud even the incoming storm felt uncomfortable.
"Werewolf," She repeated. When no one else moved, she stepped through the crowd, twisting her body so as to not touch anyone, until she reached the door. She pushed at the door, receiving considerable resistance until the Sexual Assault Merc easily pushed the door open behind her. She gave no thanks but continued inward. Wandering, misaligned eyes took everything in with all the hunger and instinctual preparation of a pre-hibernation bear. The others clambered in as well, some of them setting up equipment and others getting a lay of the land as well.
The castle would easily be described as a fixer-upper by the shadiest of realtors, but there was in actuality very little up to be fixer'd. The castle had seen its heyday when the original battle against the cult had taken place, and the skeletal remains showed the story of what had happened to anyone who cared to look. The mercs did not care to look, but you do, don't you? So I'll tell you. The battle had been fierce but quick. The heretics took the castle with unmatched strength and although the faith of the cultists was strong, it became clear in their darkest hour that their leaders had used them as fodder. Too many were too proud to beg for forgiveness or surrender, and thus their ruinous magic had brought portions of the castle down. Others, lunatics under a full moon, had sought to protect their surely grateful leaders by tearing down staircases and crumbling entire turrets in on themselves. They created nearly naught but their own graves, although looking closely one would see the rotted remains of some kind of makeshift clump of dirt set to represent a grave. A hero had fallen amidst the rubble.
Ignoring literally all of this, as history is a gift only to the observant, Sexual Assault Merc took control of the situation since it seemed like no one else was going to. And sure as hell no one was going to wait for the little squawking girl to take command. As he hauled his massive form onto a shattered piece of stone, he began to bark orders, "Alright, it looks like we're gonna need two teams to go up. Intel says the final fight happened up on the parapet there, and there's no stairs to it. Gold's gonna be up there as well, and since it was harvested fresh, it's gonna be in thick chunks instead of spendable coin. So the guys that go up there are gonna be responsible for bringing the gold down. Gonna take two teams on rotation to go up and down."
"Why don't we just throw it down?" Another merc asked.
"Oh and shatter it all to bits?" A third, Loud one shouted, "You eat raw stupid for breakfast?"
"Gold dents, it doesn't shatter." The tiny voice said. "Throwing it from a great height would likely cause the gold to change shape but if it is, in fact, real gold that has been located, it will not break or change structural integrity." Standing apart from the others, the young woman had walked over to one of the far walls and was very slowly climbing up the remains of the staircase. There were steps missing, but the remaining stairs were still fashioned out of the same stone as the wall, so they really weren't going anywhere. If she was very, very careful, it would get her to the third floor of the five story building.
"What do you think you're doing?" Sexual Assault Merc asked. Again, all eyes were on the one that stood out in several, several ways.
"I'm going after the artefact." She responded matter-of-factly. There was no sarcasm or shift of tone in her voice, and that was probably why it was so irritating. She was, however, slightly out of breath just from hopping from broken step to broken step.
"Why-why you?" The Younger mercenary said. He still hadn't really started to do anything, and was watching his more experienced colleagues get to work first.
"It's all I care about." She responded. Getting to the top of the stairs, she looked to the next highest area to grab and, finding it too
"Yeah well… whatever." Sexual Assault Merc said, "Then we'll send four of us up to get the gold." He gestured to four that looked more experience, scars and all. They started to set up climbing gear to get up to the top floor. "Rest of ya'll set up that magical teleport thing to get us out of here. Remember the Fence gave us specific instructions so don't mess up nothin' with the runes. And remember, the weirdos that lived here before set up some kind of deadman's switch. If we disturb the wrong stuff, we might wake the dead. So don't touch nothin' you ain't gotta."
Dropping to silence he motioned to two of the mercenaries, the Youngest one and the Loud one. He then gestured to them and himself and pointed towards the retreating form of the young girl. His face seemed to be twisted into something resembling anger, for reasons passing easy understanding. He hopped down from the makeshift stone pedestal and headed to the shattered stairs.
With greater ease than the young girl, Sexual Assault Merc, Loud Merc and Young Merc shambled their way up the remains of the stairs and reached what remained of the third floor. There was a low rumble as they reached the stable floor, and as they stepped within the hallway in the direction in which the young girl had headed. Sexual Assault Merc gestured for Loud Merc and Young Merc to step up first, following after them because god forbid you head into the coal mine before the canaries. The two stepped forward gingerly, the rumble increasing as they continued forward.
The Young Merc spoke up, “Hey do you think the floor above us is unsta—“ He was cut off because, yeah it was, and the ceiling above them began to collapse. A large chunk of stone dropped suddenly, clearing the thirty feet towards them with all the speed of a falling chunk of rock. While the other two stood frozen in indecision, Sexual Assault Merc used their still forms to push off of them and jumped backwards, rolling to the edge of the stairs and gripping the ledge for safety.
“Fusilis Custos Novus Golem!” A familiar voice whisper-shouted from just beyond the far corner. There came a bolt of thick red and black energy, almost like a sludge, which rocketed towards the pair in the blink of an eye. It rose and portions solidified into a stony magma armored exterior, while the rest remained flowing, perpetual lava as though trapped within a single moment in time. The massive creature that resulted caught the falling stone, its wide hand spreading outward to form a sturdy base and ensure that other portions which were falling fell onto the largest platform rather than bouncing off and hitting the other mercenaries.
Young Merc and Loud Merc, both of whom had fallen to the ground amidst the half second of chaos, stared up at the lava behemoth for a moment, transfixed by the size of this suddenly manifesting creature. They both slowly scrambled backwards as the golem stared at them with unblinking judgement. Stepping from around the corner came the girl with greasy hair and huge glasses. The golem tilted the platform to the side so that she could clamber on. The golem itself slumped down, melting more into further lava so that she could step instead of climb onto the stone.
“Consider that your partner used you to push off instead of just as simply grabbing you and pulling you back with him. The decision was therefore not instinctual to forfeit your lives at the cost of his own. Do with that information what you will.” With that, the golem stabilized the leveled stone and lifted it up onto the next floor, raising the young girl there as well. When the floor found itself stabilized, the golem merged back into magma and seeped up through the cracks, melting the stone roughly back into place as it did.
Young Merc and Loud Merc looked back at Sexual Assault Merc, the hero of his own story, who had gotten to his feet and clasped them each on the shoulder, “Y’alright? I tried to grab both of you but that damn monster shoved me away. We can head up there and make sure she doesn’t try to make off with the gold. If she can summon that monster who knows what else she’s capable of making. ”
Last edited by Iroha Ikegami on 13th October 2022, 7:06 am; edited 5 times in total
