Outside 46

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Moon-lit Moor]

That voice is so irritating. That false calmness, those misleading words...

"Lead on then, I guesss." Damon hisses irritably, letting himself be engulfed in flames once more as he vanishes in a burst of black fire and reappears further along the trail, repeating the process of spreading fire and bamfing his way along it to keep pace with the hound.

[Shadowcaller]

[Moon-lit Moor==> Mountain Temple]

The dragon simple nods as she takes the lead, moving after the fleeing demon with her extremely long body.
If Daemon tags along, they will eventually reach a small mountain pass. As they pass through it, they see a small valley nestled in between the mountains. In the middle of it, hidden in-between the mountains is a huge floating temple that at first glance might be mistaken for simply a floating ornate rock.
There are no windows and just a single gigantic door with a ramp down to the ground. There are patterns carved into the rock that are glowing with what daemon might recognize as demonic magic. While he likely can't tell what sort of magic, he can easily tell that this place is heavily enchanted with runes. More so than any other demonic fortress Daemon been to which makes it likely that the runes have some other purpose than simply protection.

In addition, they are definitely being watched, there are glowing eyes all over the mountains watching them approach.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Well...

Damon may be a little foolhardy and single-minded in his dealings with demons at times (okay, basically always), but mountains covered in glowing eyes are still concerning enough for him to come to a halt and hiss angrily up at the dragon. "Thiss? Thiss iss what you wanted to find? Unlesss you have one hell of a trick in thosse wingss of yourss, approaching all of that iss sssuicide!"

Better one dead demon, surely, than a dead dragon and zern for being foolish enough to approach this place, right?

Damon slows and raises his hands to spread black fire out around him, shrouding him in darkness and hopefully giving him a quick escape route if all of those glowing eyes decide they want to do something about this. "Well? Got sssome handy way to blow up that temple, maybe?"

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

"No. I want to talk to their leader. I know them." The dragon replies. "The demons will let us through." Then she simply continues forward. "So are you coming or not? There are plenty of demons to murder out here otherwise."

The demons show no signs of attacking. Simply watching.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

The dragon receives a venomous glare from somewhere inside the fire surrounding Damon.

"You could try explaining yoursself, you know. Ssure. I'll come along. I'll lisssten to you talk to their leader. And when it all provess to be a wasste of time, I'll ssslit their neck before we both die for thiss."

Angry zern, wreathed in flames, grumpily following after the dragon. Hey, if he's going to die here then he can at least get them all to bunch up in the temple or something and go down in a literal blaze of glory.

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

"They will just regain another body. It's a spirit, not a physical being. It simply uses empty armors to get around. Destroy one armor, and there are plenty more." The dragon explains. "It might give you some demons to kill, but attempting to slit its throat would be a exercise in futility. However, I believe there are things to be learned here and I am a scholar foremost. Not a killer."

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Well that's bothersome - although if the spirit still needs armour to inhabit, then plan "Blow up the temple" isn't without merit.

Sadly Damon forgot to stock up on explosives before setting out on this trip.

Also he probably doesn't know how to use explosives. Or where to buy them. Or that being on fire near explosives is a bad idea.

"Then I jusst need to find out how to burn sspiritss. Ssimple." The rather monotonous hissing speech of Damon's makes it kind of hard to tell if that was serious or not. "A sscholar who letss demonss live. What a sstrange dragon you are."

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

Poor Damon, he would have made such a great, but short lived, terrorist.

"Sometimes finding out the most simple things in life is the most difficult." The dragon muses as Damon will find himself having to go up the ramp to the temple if he wants to continue on this path. The dragon is simply floating along the side of the ramp. "But I could say the same for you. Going around murdering dangerous creatures with little thought for self-preservation."
The massive door is starting to open as soon as they approach. Seems like they're being let inside...

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Damon shrugs as he makes his way up the temple ramp. "If more of your kind were willing to be murderouss, perhapss there would not be a demon infessted temple here at all. It sshould not fall on the likess of me to pick up your sslack."

Damon follows along as far as he's allowed to go before encountering resistance - though he keeps himself coated in flames just in case. He's not trusting any demons.

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

"Oh, it's not like not enough of my kin is murderous. My research suggests that plenty are. Rather, the problem is that they're also often glutenous and greedy, or simply just lazy. They care little for the struggles of other races. But the same thing can also be said for other powerful beings." The dragon argues as she floats into the foyer of the temple.

As they enter they can hear a metallic voice echo through the temple. Just walk straight forward until you reach the elevator. I will take you the rest of the way.

Huh.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

That causes Damon to come to a halt pretty sharply. He's not generally in favour of obeying the directions of unseen voices. "Would our guide perhapss be willing to reveal themssselvess to uss firssst?"

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

"I'm afraid that I can't leave the laboratory at the moment. Indeed, I don't think there has ever been a time where I could leave my laboratory... but enough chit-chat. I'll be waiting for you." The voice replies.

"That is Jaccalish, the demon sovereign I mentioned earlier. I am trying to learn more about these 'demons' through him, which could be useful for people such as yourself." The dragon remarks as Jaccalish finished.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Damon sighs and shakes his head, disturbed by the sheer naivety of this dragon. But, hey, still a dragon. At this point he's kind of committed when his choice is between being inside with a dragon and being outside with many many demons and no dragon. On towards the elevator he goes.

"You could perhapss have sshared that information earlier. Not that the name meanss anything to me, asss it happenss. But it might. I guesss it might be worth knowing the name of you, my pacifisstic dragon friend, too?"

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

As they approach the elevator, the dragon appears to shrink in size until it fits into the small stone room that the voice suggested is the elevator with ease, even leaving space for Damon. "I have many names, but you may use Menggshi for now if you wish." The dragon replies as the room starts to rumble and they might get the feeling that they're moving downwards.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Polite conversation between a fireball and a philosophical dragon is hard.

Damon nods, but otherwise spends the elevator ride standing in awkward silence, tapping his foot and staring at the wall.

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

The "elevator" continues downwards for a bit until eventually stops and the doors open before them.
Behind them is a huge hall that looks very much like a bomb-shelter in structure. The entire hall is furnished with tables where at each one at least three metallic beings are seated. Each one preoccupied manipulating some kind of cube which is floating a few centimeters above each stone table.

As they enter, one of these beings suddenly stops what it is doing and walks up to them. "You're here, excellent." It does not have any apparent eyes, its face triangular with only the vaguest hints of humanoid features.

It turns to Damon. "And you must be that demon slayer, Damon was it? Have you come to eat a few? I have not had the chance to observe such a process..."

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Strange place. Strange creatures. Not really Damon's cup of tea. He'd much rather they'd walked into a room full of demons with nice big targets labelled as "Burn here".

"Your wordss...are concerning. I am never ssure to be proud or concerned when otherss know of me asss a demon sslayer. But I am not in the habit of leaving demonss alive to tell otherss of my tendency to eat them. You are ssome ssort of demon, I asssume. How iss it that you know so much about me?"

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

"Have no fear, my purpose is simply to know things such as that." There is a pause as the construct taps its 'chin'. "But that is not quite true, my domain is knowledge of more important things. None the less, I have heard of you from a college of mine. Not that it should matter. What does matter is that I am no 'demon' considering what that term is associated with. I am a simple construct really, a lot of souls, like yours, made into one for the purpose of researching the reality which we live in." The metal being gestures at what is going on behind it.

One of the other constructs even stops long enough to wave at Damon.

"But they are a 'demon' of course, at least as some of you are concerned. But I thought that people within the nexus didn't judge others character simply by the virtue of their race." Menggshi remarks. "However, I won't deny that most of them are quite violent which is partly why I am here now."

"More war? Tsk, I came here to escape that, not getting more involved in it. I am not taking sides in your 'demon war'."

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Damon hisses irritably and shakes his head, "A ssimple consstruct you ssay. One with a temple hidden in the mountainss, ssurrounded by glowing demonic eyess. One who ssendss and receivess messssagess by demon dogss. Tell me, why would you need all that if you were jusst here for ressearch?"

One hand rests on his sword as he hisses out his doubts, flames flickering over his hands and dimming the light around him. Damon is a little paranoid at the best of times, but demons historically have proven themselves worth judging at face value in the past for him - why listen to reason when it just lets them get the drop on you?

Still...philosopher dragon. Makes it hard to go all pyromaniac on this temple as long as there's a dragon there. Bothersome.

"I wonder. How ssturdy are your bodiess? How well do they burn? It might be an interessting addition to my lisst, to conssume one. If you wanted a demonsstration, I mean. Though I'd want to know about thiss colleague of yourss asss well, of coursse. And why refrain from taking sssidess? Ssseemss like you have your own little army out here."

[Shadowcaller]

[Mountain Temple]

"That is a part of their 'demonic army', yes. I took it when I abandoned their doomed cause. I found it quite useful in dissuading attackers from either faction." The construct replies. "I'm afraid that my bodies are all too valuable to destroy in such a experiment, but I'm more than willing to lend out one of the demons for science."

The construct gestures behind it and Damon will recognize the sudden flash of orange energies as a demon gating just where Jaccalish indicated.

A big hollow hound appears, it isn't the same one that Damon was chasing, but it looks similar. "It will of course resist if you're planning to kill it so I would prefer you not doing it in here."

"I suppose that's what you came for..." The dragon does not sound particularly impressed.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Mountain Temple]

Damon gives a dismissive hiss, ignoring the hound. "I came here becausse a sstrangely pacifissstic dragon told me not to kill a demon. I'm here now, Menggsssshi-" There's a rather drawn out, disdainful hiss added to the dragon's name, "Becausse you think there iss value in letting thiss demon massquerading asss a sscientisst live. I'm waiting to ssee thiss...value."

With a flick of his wrist, Damon draws his sword and points it at the hollow hound. The gleaming blade is long and thin, with a curved hook just above the tip, as if designed to pierce and then rend through the victim's innards as the blade is withdrawn. The hilt is elegantly designed with a black finish, like curves of black flame around Damon's hand. As he speaks, black fire swirls along its length. "If I wass looking for a fight, thiss creature would not ssatissfy me. Itss form iss of no value to me. The demonss outsside would not ssatissfy me. I'm ssure I've killed and conssumed them all before. Sshow me, dragon, why thiss place iss worth leaving intact, or ssso help me, I will burn it all to asshess."

[Earl of Purple]

Ruined Motorway

This shattered expanse of tarmac is marred by wrecked cars and fallen, rusty signs to nowhere. Racing down it at pretty high speed is a convoy of mismatched vehicles. In the lead is a battered motor-home, a beefy engine erupting from beneath a far-too-small bonnet. The rear cab has been replaced with a steel shed, reinforced with added metal plating and bars, and a large home-made crossbow powered by leaf springs is on a pintle-mount, operated by a man wearing a pair of swimming goggles, a black wool hat and a dirty white shirt. He's shooting at the following vehicles, which occasionally fire back.

The next vehicle is an ambulance, its bright colours a faded memory. A hefty plough made from an old metal fence has been welded to the front. Steel darts and small-calibre bullet holes score the improvised ram, and three people are shooting at the vehicle in front of them, though their aim is terrible. One, a heavily tattooed man wearing an old parachute harness, ripped jeans and odd trainers has a battered lever-action rifle; he's leaning from where the side door used to be, held in position through the high-speed turns and bad driving by several chains and ropes linked from his harness to the side of the bus. The next is wearing a judge's wig and a faded Hawaiian shirt, brandishing a garden fork and screaming obscenities from a hole cut in the roof. The third has a sawn-off shotgun he pokes from the windscreen whenever he thinks he can hit the tyres of their prey, though he's not firing often, concerned with his ammunition.

Behind the ambulance is an old navy blue sedan car, long in the boot and bonnet, and missing the lids to both. Spikes and blades have been welded to the wings and bumper, chicken wire is stretched across the shattered windows and a collection of humanoid bones bounce along behind, tied to the rear. There's a girl with long auburn hair standing in the boot gripping onto a bar bolted to the roof as she fires a semi-automatic pistol when she has a clear shot at the motor-home. She's wearing a gas mask without a filter, a stained and ripped green skirt and a black shirt held together with safety pins. Skirt, shirt and hair are all streaming back with the wind.

The final vehicle in the madcap race is an original style Volkswagen Beetle, the front bonnet missing and an old brown leather armchair fitted into the space. An enlarged engine sticks out the other end. Sat in the armchair is a man wearing black motorbike trousers, a camouflage-patterned jacket under a bulletproof vest bearing the letters PO C and a plastic crown glued to a white hard-hat, with a red bandanna tied about his face. He holds across his lap a cut-down assault rifle, the stock removed, and a staff made from a metal broom handle, a human skull and a pair of cracked sunglasses. A bloody and shapeless corpse is dragged along behind, handcuffed to the bumper; the rigours of the road has stripped a lot of flesh from the body, and it's barely recognisable as human.

After a few minutes, the rambulance makes contact with the rear of the motor-home, smashing into the vehicle with not a lot of force, as they're travelling in the same direction at nearly the same speed, but it's enough. The driver of the first vehicle loses control momentarily, and they veer to one side, smashing into a crumbling concrete road block. The barricade is turned to gravel, but the motor-home's front axle is broken and it's uncontrollable, bumping into several wrecks and knocking over the last road sign before crashing into a ditch and rolling onto its side. The pursuers whoop and cheer as they slow to a stop nearby, the drivers climbing out as the gunners unbuckle themselves, all eager to start looting their prey. The Beetle's driver is a woman wearing a tattered wedding dress and carrying an axe made from a tyre iron. The rambulance driver is a large man wearing a mask made from a hexagonal STOP sign with two holes punched into it and bent roughly into shape and a pair of torn blue police trousers, carrying a sledge hammer with a shortened handle. The final driver is a shaven-headed woman wearing a poncho made from a black bin-bag and carrying a rifle converted into a crossbow.

((Interaction Wanted, raiders to be fought.))

[Devixer]

Ruined Motorway

With all the excitement happening on the ground, none of the vehicles' occupants are too likely to notice the shadow passing by them, from a figure high up in the sky.

Around 50 meters above the road, a small wyvern, not much larger than a horse, flies above the convoy. Atop the beast is a young woman in plate armour, trying to see the scene in as much detail as she can without attracting attention. While these horseless vehicles and tiny weapons that sounded like cannons were strange to her, she knew bandits when she saw them, even if they dressed in clothes not remotely suited for battle. She made a few quick calculations in her head, before urging the wyvern to dive. She pulls a bardiche from her saddle, and takes it in both of her hands as she prepares to make her first pass.

The man in the parachute harness may want to duck, as the woman lets out an indistinguishable battle cry and aims her swing straight at his neck, trying to take his head off in one blow. Regardless of whether or not she succeeds, she passes right by, not even touching the ground until the wyvern lands in front of the toppled motor-home. "Villains and fools! Come face Faudre, dragon knight of Whiteford, if you wish for death!" The wyvern beats his wings and lifts himself up once more.

[Earl of Purple]

Ruined Motorway

The rambulance's side-gunner is decapitated, before he's finished unhooking himself from the complex assemblage of ropes and string that kept him on the vehicle during its pursuit. His rifle drops to the floor, and his body sags slightly to the left, but doesn't fall completely.

The man with the former police vest and the assault rifle passes his staff to the bride beside him as he checks the weapon is ready for use. "A woman with a flying mutie lizard could find work, if she's smart. I find meself with a vacancy, miss. I'm King Jalopy, Lord of the Roads, Master of Mayhem and Looter of Peacehaven. Payment's in alcohol, water, food, bullets if you need 'em and all you can claim from the dead. They don't need it. What say you?" His mix of eclectic raiders gather behind him, reloading weapons that need it and drawing the ones that don't. The girl with the pistol pushes it into her waistband and takes up the dead man's rifle, quickly checking it to ensure it's ready. STOP-mask is laughing, deep and threatening.

Out of the motor home's gaping windscreen crawls the driver, a man wearing old dungarees and a fireman's helmet, pushing a spear ahead of him.

[Devixer]

Ruined Motorway

Faudre narrows her eyes. She had just killed one of these men! She'd called them into combat! And now their leader wanted her to work for him? She briefly considers just flying straight at them and swinging everywhere she could. But she could make a plan with the seconds she had before they attacked.

She takes one hand from her bardiche and lowers it, slowly reaching for another pouch on her saddle. "I say..." Rather than continue, she raises her hand again, which is now holding a throwing ax. She hurls it at the girl that just took the dead man's rifle. At the same time, she brushes her occupied hand downward to push the faceplate of her helmet down. "Xolotal take you who prey on the weak!" As she says this, she urges the wyvern to swing around again, keeping near the fallen vehicle.

[Earl of Purple]

Ruined Motorway

Lever-action rifle girl, formerly known as pistol-girl, takes an axe to the chest. It cleaves in through her shirt, into her collarbone, and she drops the rifle and falls over. She's still alive, though she's bleeding heavily into her lungs.

"Looks like she's not smart. Whoever kills her first, gets her axe." He raises his own rifle and fires off a short burst of three shots, aiming for Faudre's chest. Plate armour fell out of fashion due to the proliferation of firearms far cruder than this, though if it's enchanted or made of something unusual it may fare better. Bin-Bag Poncho also raises her crossbow-rifle and looses a shot, far faster and smoother than her boss- she doesn't have anywhere near as much recoil to worry about, but her bolt has far less power and, being made of improvised materials, is far less likely to penetrate the plate.

STOP-mask hefts his shortened hammer and charges the wyvern, eager to smash its brains out and find out if it's edible. He's quickly joined by Hawaiian Shirt Judge, using his garden fork as a short spear. Bride is staying back, holding King Jalopy's broom sceptre in one hand and her own tyre-iron axe in the other. If Jalopy kills Faudre, he'll likely give her the bardiche, and she has no intention of either fighting the mutant lizard or walking into the line of fire. Even if she doesn't get the polearm, she can always have the axe in lever-action rifle girl.

Motor-home driver slowly stands, listening to the sounds of conflict, and waits to catch his breath. He might move next post; he might not.

[Devixer]

Ruined Motorway

Faudre and her wyvern move as Jalopy raises his rifle, but the shots still burrow into her plate, at her ribs. While neither her plate or the mail underneath can completely stop modern rifle rounds, they are built with materials tempered to at least partially protect the wearer from magic bolts. In short, his shot is stopped, but there is a clear dent in the armor, likely causing a bruised rib or two. The crossrifle bolt, however, is stopped by her armor.

She cries out when she's hit by the rounds. Whatever these strange weapons were, they hurt. If she was going to win this, she would have to do so quickly. She shouts to the wyvern, who flies straight for Hawaiian Shirt Judge before pulling up, and trying to grab his shoulders using the claws in its hind legs. If it's successful, they fly upward several meters before dropping the man. And if they aren't, they still fly upward, and take an arcing path towards Bin-Bag Poncho to take another swing with her bardiche.

[Earl of Purple]

Ruined Motorway

Hawaiian Shirt Judge is grabbed and pulled upwards, screaming and trying to stab the wyvern's belly from his new, closer position. He's sharpened the garden fork to aid in its use as a weapon, but the fact remains it wasn't designed with violence in mind. It can cause serious damage to unarmoured humans, but probably not so much to a wyvern. This lasts until he's dropped, where he screams in fright and lands on his back, winded. His fork falls from his hands, and he tries to pull himself up to catch his breath.

Bin-Bag Poncho ducks under the bardiche, a slight cut opening on the back of her scalp. She hurries to reload her weapon before Faudre comes back. It's either her riflebow or a serrated kitchen knife, and that has nowhere near enough reach to deal with the polearm.

King Jalopy aims another burst of rounds at the wyvern, since Faudre's armour is too tough for his assault rifle to seriously harm.

[Devixer]

Ruined Motorway

Hawaiian Shirt Judge's garden fork isn't terribly effective against the wyvern's hide, although it is able to break its skin. Although wyvern hides are significantly tougher than human skin, they certainly aren't impenetrable- if they were, then the wyvern wouldn't have any scales.

Faudre notices King Jalopy taking aim again, and calls out to her companion. "Haar! Korkea pudotus!" The words carry some meaning to the wyvern, who quickly takes off straight upward, narrowly avoiding the rifle shots. But instead of the wyvern coming back down, it's Faudre, who dismounts from the beast and takes a fall, aiming straight for Hawaiian Shirt Judge - with her bardiche pointed downward.

[Earl of Purple]

Ruined Motorway

Hawaiian Shirt Judge can't even scream as he sees the plate-clad figure descending rapidly towards him. The bardiche thunks solidly into his torso, cracking several ribs and severing his left arm just shy of the shoulder. He dies pretty instantly, of internal organ damage.

King Jalopy flicks a switch on the side of his rifle and fires a large barrage of bullets at Faudre, no longer caring about conserving ammunition; he wants her dead, before he finds himself without a gang at all. STOP-Mask runs to the rambulance, seeking the shotgun he left inside. Bride takes a few steps back, headed to the Beetle, but not to take a weapon. She's getting nervous and only her fear of King Jalopy is stopping her from running.

The driver peers round his wrecked motor-home to see what's going on. Lots of bodies, all raiders, but... Surely it's not just the one plate-clad figure?