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Assault on the Keep Posted by: Rael Scion at 01-29-2016 16:28 PM, Last Modified 01-29-2016 16:28 PM
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While searching the base of the frost-rimed keep for a means of ingress, Rael spotted movement ahead. Crouching down and putting a hand on the haft of the diamond-bladed scythe strapped across his back, the explorer crept forward. Just in front of him was a humanoid figure with empty blue eyes, clad in ornate gold armor, bearing a sword and a shield with an unknown emblem blazed across its surface. Raising his free hand in a hail, he was surprised when the figure raised its blade and charged! Forced to defend himself, Rael brought down the gold-armored assailant with a few arcing cuts. "What was THAT?!"
Making his way around the exterior wall via a precarious ledge, Rael finally found a way into the keep. Unfortunately, it was guarded by a large number of those blue-eyed demons. He let out a low hiss of displeasure and readied his scythe, using his grappling hook to pull them in one by one, at least until they noticed his tactic and rushed him! He slashed and raked with his scythe, dodging arrows from the archers waiting in the back. Finally, the courtyard was empty, allowing him to explore the small barracks buildings. In one was a low iron basin filled with stagnant water. "Ew. EW." Backpedaling out of the building, Rael decided to explore elsewhere.

Slumping down momentarily against the large leaded-glass window to rest, Rael looked at the number of corpses strewn on the floor, their now-sightless blue eyes staring at nothing. Twenty at least. It was difficult to get a real count the way they were draped across one another and piled up. The feline explorer closed his eyes, catching his breath after the horrendous fight. It had cost him a large portion of the magical fire grenades he'd brought along for just such an occasion.

Stepping onto the ramparts, Rael breathed in the mountain air to clear his nose of the rank, mildewy scent of the castle and the cold, dry, dead scent of its inhabitants. Another twenty or so lay strewn behind him and his freshly-forged Kreknorite meteor-metal armor was dented, and even beginning to crack in some places. His scythe still held true though, at least. How ironic. He'd picked up a spare weapon, an icy Frezarite meteor-metal sword, but no spare armor.

Cautiously, Rael moved into the room at the top of the stairs. There were no Walkers, though he could hear them somewhere nearby. Ahead of him was a narrow glass-floored corridor. A trap? Or just a defensive measure? The intrepid explorer pressed on, treading carefully on the fragile footing.

Just past the glass-corridor level of the keep, Rael happened upon a guard tower with a single guard at the top. Rushing in with his scythe, Rael battered the blue-eyed creature to the edge of the battlements and, with a mighty shove, sent him tumbling to his demise. The blue-eyed thing was silent as it fell, landing with an almost-inaudible crunch on the snowy stone so many hundreds of feet down. Strangely, no red stained the pristine white around it.

Fighting his way along the highest ramparts of the keep, the wind whistling in his helm and making him glad for the permanent dull heat of his Kreknorite armor, Rael sent more of the blue-eyed beasts plummeting to their silent demise on the stone below. A particularly tenacious one clung grimly on and climbed back over the battlements to shoot arrows at him from behind. It didn't cling on its second plunge, Rael made deathly sure of that. Soon, the ramparts stood empty, except for one other being and the explorer. This one wore a strange black helm modeled after a demonic leering skull. Its blue eyes shone through the narrow eye slits, staring down the adventurer, who prepared his scythe, determined not to send this foe over the edge, but instead face it down man to beast.

"Let us begin this," Rael intoned, striding forward with a boldness he scarcely felt. His cloaked opponent nodded grimly and the conflict began. Back and forth across the ramparts they dueled, keen sword and sturdy shield against hooking, sweeping scythe. A lucky parry from his opponent sent Rael plunging over the battlements. His grappling hook saved him, fired in haste as he fell, allowing him to reel himself into a lower window, just in time to hear the hurrying armored footfalls of his blue-eyed nemesis descending the stairs above him. Showing an honor the adventurer did not expect, the other allowed Rael to regain his footing and his balance before engaging combat again.

On a more sure platform now, Rael was able to put more force behind each swing. A lucky high sweep took the skull helm from his foe's head and dented it to uselessness against the wall. A second stroke rent a deep gash in the blue-eyed creature's diamond-accented cuirass. This was all the advantage Rael needed. Thrusting with the steel-capped butt of his scythe, he stunned the blue-eyed foe, then drove the diamond-edged blade into its chest. This one, at least, made some sound as its eyes faded; a throaty, rasping cry. It struggled a moment longer before its grip on its blade slipped, allowing Rael to take the weapon as a trophy. "You fought well and honorably," he told the lifeless, staring corpse.

Atop the keep, where his foe had first stood, Rael felt a moment of serene peace. Of achievement. Of having done something worthy. He closed his eyes, breathing in the cool mountain air. His armor was dented, scarred and cracked, his scythe dulled, but he had won out. Through a legion of demon-spawn, he had won out. A shooting star crossed the sky and his eyes opened momentarily to follow it, watching it disappear, burning up in the atmosphere. He had won out. ......


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