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Post by Mike/Rolaka on Mar 7, 2022 21:35:23 GMT -6
Mike and Anaius fought their way out to the serving floor once more. What was once a full house of reverie and merriment had been turned into a den of decaying death and destruction. Mike could not see it, but he could smell it, and feel it in his walk, the floor had been coated with a thick veneer of congealed viscera. The fog had thickened so much so that breathing was growing more difficult, exacerbated by his encroaching fatigue. But if his life full of conflict and strife has imbued Mike with any attribute, it was perseverance. He did not care if his muscles had split, if his bones had snapped, or if his hearing had gone the way of his vision, Mike would not allow these innocent people to die nor Clock Town along with it. Indeed, if this witch had summoned every deceased citizen of Termina and set them all on this lone tavern, Mike would fight them all.
And fight he did, with a tenacity he did not know he was still capable of. Mike wasted no breath on battle cries or useless banter with these monsters, he let his Gilded Swords do all the talking. Through bone, through sinew, through heads and necks and limbs, Mike's blades elegantly dispatched the ReDeads. But for every one felled, two more approached him, and two more after that. Mike and Anaius battled on and on, a bloodbath if ReDeads had any blood left in them.
Adrenaline flowed through Mike's mind like oil to a machine, all four senses on high alert. The moment he hear a moan, he silenced it; a naked foot fall, he stopped it. In this sensory frenzy, his sense of time fell by the wayside. However, countless more ReDeads piled up, and the limits of his own exceptional ability had peaked. There was a brief pause in the undead onslaught, and a thought invaded his mind.
How long had he been fighting? What time was it now? Was it close to dawn? Would dawn even come given this fog? As these pangs of misery entered his consciousness, they gradually began to take over his senses--and his functions. His sword swings slowed, his balance was uneasy, the enemy began to surprise him from angles he would have caught them otherwise. Mike was being overwhelmed, for the first time in a long time. His heart rate spiked, his sweat created a waterfall, and his muscles started ceasing up. His hearing became mute, his smell failed, and lost feeling in his limbs.
Fatigue gave way to panic. "I got to get out of here! I have to- to..." His stress-strained mind painted him a horrid picture in his "vision". Mike could see the shape of a demonic figure...
"No!"
That scream, it was Anaius! The image faded away and Mike's senses came roaring back. But just in time to feel putrid teeth plunge into his shoulder, and vine-like appendages wrap around him. With a strength borrowed from Din, he broke free from the ReDead's foul caress and his sword streaked through its torso. Anaius' cry was close by, but down low. He was pinned! Mike moved in the general direction of Anaius, but his abrupt stupor prevented Mike from pinpointing his location.
A spine-chilling shriek offered exact guidance, Anaius was paralyzed.
"Get the hell off of him!" Mike screamed as he charged toward Anaius' aggressors. In a full, unmitigated slash of his blades, Mike cut through all three ReDeads trapping Anaius, bisecting each one at the torso. He lightly tapped against the body beneath him with his boot. Mike could feel the full resistance of Anaius' person, he found him! However, his friend was still petrified by the gaze.
Mike planted his feet around Anaius, ready to take on the whole of this undead army to protect his fast friend. He raised his Gilded Swords once more and-- they fell, clanging onto the floor on either side of them. Mike's arms went limp, his stance broke and he collapsed to a knee--it was the last of his energy. The groans of endless undead surround them, the damned footsteps marched closer and closer. With one hand Mike palmed the pasty floor for his blades. He found only one, and struggled to lift it back up.
"By the grace of Farore, I will not give in. With but one sword in hand, and on one knee to stand, I will not give in," Mike prayed. The swarm descended upon them--the witch's wrath be done.
"I WON'T!"
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Mar 16, 2022 19:38:02 GMT -6
Hopeless and despairing, Anaius awaited death as he lay paralyzed on the tavern floor. His body succumbed to the draining bites of the redeads atop him, and he knew in a matter of moments his remaining vitality would be siphoned away. Yet it did not come. For Mike, bellowing through the gloom, dismembered the redead in a flash of steel. As soon as they fell from his body, Anaius felt the depletion of his lifeforce subside. A renewed sense of vigor washed through him, as well as significant gratitude at Mike for saving his life. He propped himself up on his elbows, hissing from the pain of his wounds, and found Mike standing before him. A smile touched Aniaus's lips, and his spirits rose. Until he saw a worrying new foe gleam through the fog. Golden red patches of light glowed here and there in places around the bar, confirming Anaius's previous fear of the burning bodies spreading to the establishment. Smoke and fire now threatened their lives as much as the undead. Even if they managed to fight through the horde, could they survive the tavern burning down? And what of the patrons locked beneath them? They'd burn alive...
No. Anaius repelled this thought like an incoming missile. He refused to give in! If Mike could hold out long enough for him to return to his feet, there may yet be a chance to successfully defend themselves. The chances of them defeating the redeads in time before the bar succumbed to the flames (or they choked on the smoke) were slim to none, but Anaius would not back down.
And then his heart sank as Mike's Gilded Swords clattered to the floor and he dropped to one knee. It seemed exhaustion had finally overtaken him. The enemy was closing in all around them; perhaps in ten seconds they'd be completely swarmed.
I will not die on my back! he thought furiously. With immense effort and much straining, Anaius pushed himself into a standing position.
"By the grace of Farore, I will not give in. With but one sword in hand, and on one knee to stand, I will not give in. I WON'T"
"I have your back, brother! Let's give em all we've got!" Anaius replied. He raised his fists before him in a battle stance. He wobbled slightly from the accumulated fatigue and sustained injuries, but his determination was steadfast. He and Mike would fight until they were dead, and that was that.
The enemy shuffled in all around them, now so close their ghastly dead faces could be seen through the fog. Anaius steeled himself one last time, knowing this tavern would most likely be his final resting place.
And then the front of the bar exploded.
A shockwave followed by a gale of wind nearly knocked Anaius over. He stumbled on wobbly legs almost right into the embrace of a redead, but stopped just short of its decrepit arms. The sound was deafening, and his eardrums felt like they may have ruptured. Offal and severed limbs rained upon them from the direction of the door. The force of the explosion significantly improved visibility inside the bar as it blew most of the fog out through the shattered windows. Anaius, utterly stunned, looked back in the direction of the door and witnessed their salvation enter in a flurry of arrows. A warrior whom he'd never seen before rained death upon the redead that surrounded him and Mike. An eager, sadistic smile plastered across his face the entire time he did so. But as he drew closer Anaius realized he wasn't merely smiling, the man was positively laughing in delight.
"Clear out the bar, boys! And look for any more survivors! I've got these two." The man called out as he walked toward him and Mike. He never ceased shooting arrows into redead as he did so. From behind him came a flood of Clock Town guards. They, too, methodically struck down every redead they came across. The bar was now clearing out of both the fog and the undead. Anaius also noticed the ominous melody of the obsidian ocarina had stopped playing. Curious, he thought, has she given up?
Anaius's heart soared at their rescue. The goddesses were indeed on their side this night. Their rescuer dropped several more redead that slowly crept their way toward Mike and Anaius, then lowered his bow. He approached them still smiling. When he was close enough for a good look at them, it widened even more. His face beamed recognition and happiness.
"Mike? Is that you?"
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Post by Mike/Rolaka on Mar 16, 2022 21:04:18 GMT -6
The explosion of fire caught Mike completely off-guard. An intense ringing jolted through his ears, and Mike pressed his palms firmly against them. With his hands clutching his head, Mike could only make out the low muffling of voices and footsteps. Of course, he thought, an undead incursion of this scale could not be concealed by its perpetrator, nor ignored by the people of Clock Town. This had to be the Termina Guard coming to their rescue, or at least he hoped it was.
As the clanging on his eardrums subsided, Mike could hear a voice barking orders. A familiar voice in both tone and cadence, but he could not discern their identity. It certainly wasn't Anaius, as he was standing right next to him. It was the sound of a grown man, so it wasn't Maximus, or Kadina or Iona. It held an air of authority to it, so it wasn't Eldrin, or Mathayus. Was it Garen? Was it Blade?...
"Mike? Is that you?"
What... impossible... If this was some divine prank, Mike was not in the mood for jokes.
It was Argoth! Alive in the flesh!
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ReDeads were cut down where they stood as the guardsmen stormed the backrooms. The sound of battle cries and swinging weapons raised a cacophony the likes of which the tavern had not experienced since the night began. The guards swept the corridors for any survivors, they searched closets, corners, and crate stacks in hopes of discovering just one living soul and quickly before the fires spread. But the backrooms were cramped and comparatively small next to the serving floor. The only people they found was themselves.
"Hello!" a guardsmen cried out. "Is there anyone back here? We must evacuate the building and swiftly! Please come out now!"
A low metallic clanking rose from the floor beneath them. Before they could locate its origin, one of the Guards felt something push his foot up. He yelped and doubled back, his comrades gathered around him to find a trapdoor had opened. A composed man, if a bit grimy, emerged from below--the bartender.
"We are all down here. Thank the Goddesses you have come. Though I had confidence you always would," the barkeep bluffed.
"No time to talk! Your tavern has been set aflame," a guard interjected. One by one the survivors were escorted out of their hole. Tears fell from their eyes in sheer relief that they had been rescued from this forsaken place and spared a terrible fate. Others remained stone-faced, either by necessity to remain calm, or immense trauma. Back into formation, the group left the backroom for the last time, and regrouped with the three heroes.
"Argoth, sir! We found all of the remaining citizens. We're ready to move!"
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Mar 30, 2022 20:39:54 GMT -6
Anaius glanced at Mike after the newcomer addressed him by name. He was expecting a warm welcome by the sound of his voice, but Mike merely stared at him, dumbfounded. A few uncomfortable seconds passed between them before a guard yelled out from behind them, "Argoth, sir! We found all of the remaining citizens! We're ready to move!"
The words cut through the tension and brought the three of them back to their surroundings. "Good," Argoth said, "let's get everyone out. This building is about to be an inferno."
Argoth then looked at Mike once more and grasped him by the shoulder. With a smile he said, "It's so good to see you again, Mike. Come on, let's talk outside."
Anaius, Mike, and Argoth rushed out of the rapidly burning building followed by the guards and remaining patrons. Once they were a safe distance away, Anaius stared back at the tavern. What felt like only moments ago, he and Mike were happily drinking with bar full of merry souls. Now it burned and billowed, and a figurative sea of dismembered redead stained its wooden floors. Anaius's heart broke for the people they couldn't save, their bodies now presumably engulfed in flames along the tavern floor, never to receive a proper burial.
Then the wispy and hollow female voice slithered into their minds once more, "Do not be deceived by this small victory, 'brave ones.'" she said derisively. "Clock Town is doomed no matter what you do. The redead horde was a single flame in the hell I shall bring upon this wretched city and its people! Ready yourselves, if you dare. For in two hours I will besiege all of Clock town, and then raze it to the ground."
Her voice faded from them, and Anaius heard several civilians behind him cry out in fear and anguish. He looked about him and saw the grim faces of the guards, they, too, had heard her vengeful threat. All around them, civilians grouped together, reuniting with friends or family that had presumably been in other parts of the city during the attack. Relief adorned the faces of those who managed to find their loved ones, loss and despair on those who did not. Anaius watched all this in a kind of slow motion, each grief-stricken face adding to his already heavy heart. The witch would pay dearly for this suffering.
"Two hours, huh? Well that's awfully generous of her." Argoth chuckled. "We'll make her pay for every minute of it. Commander Tallow! Begin boarding up all the entrances to the city. And get a few soldiers to lead the people into shelter. Then come back to me for further orders."
"Yes, sir!" Commander Tallow replied, and quickly began shouting orders to nearby troops.
"Now then," Argoth said, looking back at Mike, "where were we?" His face changed from joy to confusion. "Say, what's with the cloth over your eyes?"
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Post by Mike/Rolaka on Mar 30, 2022 21:06:58 GMT -6
Even with the fatigue and exhaustion wearing on Mike's mind, the utter shock of meeting his long-thought-dead friend trounced it all. It was Argoth, and no mistaking it. The sound of his voice, his nonchalant demeanor in the face of danger, the authority he commanded, it was all there. But only one question remained...
"Argoth... how? How is it you? I- I watched you die. I was there when you were entombed in the mausoleum..." Mike seized up when he remembered what happened afterward; with Syrus... and what happened to Maximus. "Surely Max told you? When he was fully possessed..." he brought a hand up to his shrouded eyes. "Did this to me. I can't see anymore. And it cost my position in the Hyrule Guard and..." He took a deep breath to compose himself. Mike was speaking a mile a minute, and was likely confusing his friend.
"I've been laying low in Snowhead, and trained myself to fight again, in spite of my debilitation," Mike suddenly remembered it was not but him and Argoth, there was a third. "Oh, Anaius, this is Argoth. He and I worked together for... well, you've seen my memories. You ought to recognize him."
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Mar 30, 2022 21:34:15 GMT -6
Argoth smiled, "About that...maybe a month or so after my death good ol' HMS brought me back. Goddesses knows what for, bastard wouldn't give me much more than cryptic words and creepy smiles. I guess that's part of my journey now." Argoth shrugged, "Gotta find out what I was brought back for. Helps to have a horde of undead to keep me busy while I search though."
When Mike asked about Max, Argoth raised his eyebrows, "No, he never mentioned it to me..." Argoth's voice took on a somber tone, "Poor kid's probably never forgiven himself. No doubt Syrus's doing if he did it while hulked out. The day we kill that bastard will be a day of celebration, let me tell you."
Mike introduced Argoth to Anaius, already suspecting him to have seen him from his memories. This was true, if only partially. Argoth did look familiar to Anaius after a while, but he couldn't quite place their first encounter. But after Mike brought up the search of his memories, Anaius knew just where to look. That was the trouble of ingesting a plethora of other people's memories, it cluttered the mind. Sometimes Anaius couldn't quite tell which memories were his and which he had taken from others. Sometimes he'd have to spend several minutes shuffling through a broad catalogue just to find the relevant ones. It was quite tedious at times and Anaius had never quite found a solution to this problem. He'd work on it someday, when there was time.
He witnessed Mike's memory of the day he lost his vision to the demon boy as if he were there. The suffering on that day was immense for all involved. This 'Syrus' was a formidable and malicious character. Also in Mike's stolen memories Anaius saw (and felt) the friendship shared between the two of them. He experienced their many adventures. It made him smile.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Argoth" Anaius said, holding out his hand. Argoth took it with a smile and the two shook firmly.
"Pleasure is mine, Anaius. Well, we've got a lot of work to do, boys. In a little less than two hours this town will be swarming with undead. We need a plan."
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Post by Faro/Blade on Apr 12, 2022 21:11:33 GMT -6
Around the city, Redead stragglers continued trying to tear down doors and break through windows, driven by instinct. Scattered civilians cowered in fear of the undead horde's inevitable return. A black-clad figure moved almost soundlessly through an otherwise deserted alleyway, leaving a row of charred corpses in its wake. A crouching Redead rose from its feast upon the corpse of a dog, spurred by the otherworldly detection that allowed their decaying kind to hunt. Turning to face the disturbance, it saw only a man's extended palm before abruptly catching flame and collapsing onto the street in a smoldering heap. Hazel eyes glared at the creature for only a moment, before taking notice of a flickering light off in the distance.
The inferno that consumed the once-bustling bar shone out like a beacon, and Faro made his way towards it. Somehow, he knew it would lead him to what he was seeking. The few extra Redeads that lined the path were no match for Faro, and he noticed that the closer he got, the thinner their numbers became until they disappeared entirely. His opinion of the holdouts grew fonder as he entered the bar, the blaze around him posing no more discomfort than a light breeze would to anyone else. The number of Redeads strewn about was nothing short of impressive, and a sense of satisfaction flowed over him as the flames began to swirl around him and be absorbed. He'd found who he was looking for. A familiar voice pierced his focus and confirmed his suspicions.
"Pleasure is mine, Anaius. Well, we've got a lot of work to do, boys. In a little less than two hours this town will be swarming with undead. We need a plan." As the man spoke, the flames of the bar flickered inward as if being pulled towards a single point. The speed of the flickering grew as the flames began to quickly be snuffed out. Faro emerged from the front door of the bar as the last cinder flickered out. Not a single hot coal left to smolder.
"I knew I would find you here," The young man shook his head upon seeing Argoth. The two of them were of similar height and build, but the newcomer's equipment set him apart. He was by all appearances unarmed, and a tailored black coat hung to his knees. A simple red shirt was visible underneath, black pants and boots with matching armored gloves completing his simple attire. His eyes were focused, and possessed a piercing quality as he focused his attention to the hooded Argoth. "Trying to make a liar out of that mask peddler."
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