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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Nov 18, 2008 22:03:35 GMT -5
Kefka stared in abject horror as the sorceress, having failed in her magic attack, took up her provisional staff and shield and began wailing on the unfortunate creatures. Surely she knew. Surely she knew that each blow she delivered brought the bombs closer and closer to exploding. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short. Why should he care if that foul woman blew her self up? It would save him the trouble. The mage shook his head and backed further into the cave, grinning all the while. Even if she managed to kill one, the other would explode, taking her along with it, and Kefka could quietly slip out and be on his merry way.
Adel's voice startled him as he backed into the darkness; had she finally figured it out? One glance at the creature she was jumping away from told him what he'd suspected, and he watched, wide-eyed as the blast lit up the cave. It tore through the space with a percussive clap that shoved Kefka back into a wall, effectively winding him and snuffing the cackle that threatened to tear out of his throat at the sight. There was something about the volume of the blast that set him on edge, however— could two bombs really make that much noise?
The dust settled slowly in the minutes that followed the the blast, and in the escaping haze Kefka could just make out what had made such a racket; the entire entrance of the cave had been sealed off by rubble. Adel had landed in a pile just feet away from him, and Kefka couldn't decide what to feel at that point. On one hand, his only sure entrance had been sealed. On the other hand... Adel wasn't moving. At least that was a good thing, right?
Kefka stood with a ragged cough, breath hitching slightly when he jostled his bruised shoulder. He stumbled for the blocked entrance, past the sorceress and past the still blazing fire, a wild grin still clinging to his lips. It was as he thought— totally blocked. He delivered a sharp kick to one of the small boulders blocking the his exit, stumbling back at the sting in his foot. Another rock was caught underfoot, sending the mage flat on his hind end, where he gave in to the fatigue nagging at the back of his mind. He slumped back, blissfully unaware of the steady sound of the sorceress' breath.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Nov 20, 2008 2:10:46 GMT -5
Adel coughed violently as she awoke with, as predicted, a horrible headache. The air was dusty, the explosion having kicked dirt up into it, and the sorceress noticed a distinct lack of light in the cave. Her eyes focusing, Adel shifted slightly to test herself for any pain or disturbing lack thereof. While Kefka’s coat was almost completely ruined, her back hurt like hell, and her face was moderately burned, Adel was relieved to find that—besides a vaguely concerning ringing in her ears—she had not been permanently injured in any way she could perceive.
Looking around and wondering just how much time had passed, she saw the fire still lit, Kefka unconscious and snoring, and the entrance thoroughly blocked by rubble. At least the bombs were dead, anyways. Slowly standing to her feet, Adel wobbled slightly before straightening herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before walking toward the rocks blocking the opening, preparing to smash the entrance open. Rearing her weapon back, Adel smashed at the rocks as hard as she could. The rock she struck merely cracked into many smaller pieces and crumbled through the cracks in the rubble, not seriously affecting the wall of boulders. Adel attempted this three more times before achieving anything of significance. On her fourth time, she heard a familiar rumble as the cave began to shake and many more rocks poured off the mountain to block their path.
“…Shit.” Adel cursed as she turned to Kefka. If he had just helped her with the bombs then they could have killed the other one before it exploded. How could he be saving her from rockslides one minute and running from a fight the next? Stupid lunatic didn’t know what he wanted, she could have sworn. “Get up.” She spoke forcefully whilst swiftly kicking the harlequin twice in the ribs. “This is your fault.” Adel offered matter-of-factly without an accompanying explanation, picking a fair sized log up out of the fire and holding it by an end that didn’t threaten to melt her hand to the wood. Walking toward the tunnel, she could only hope it would lead to an exit.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Nov 20, 2008 3:15:41 GMT -5
Kefka's eyes opened to slits at the resounding thwak ringing through the cavern. The sound vaguely resembled a shattered bell, a fact that elicited a tiny smirk from the still-snoring mage. It wasn't the stinging rock shards biting at his skin that truly woke him. It was, instead, the sensation of something digging into the space between his ribs and the shock of pain that accompanied the gesture. Kefka snarled, breath coming in short, strained gasps as he swiped angrily at his attacker. Vengeful bitch.
The jester scrambled painfully to his feet, shooting her a dangerous look. "What is wrong with you?" he grit out through his teeth, still fighting to gain his bearings. The singed coat and distantly pained look told him just what he needed to know, garnering a grin from the madman. "Oh, that. I thought you knew." Adel ignored him and when she picked out a piece of fire wood that could very well have been meant for his head, he flinched. Much to Kefka's relief, and without so much as a word, she ventured further into the cave.
Glad to be rid of the wench—if only for a moment—he carefully picked through the rubble, grabbing a stick from the fire and what appeared to be the remains of one of the explosive creatures. "Never tango with a Bomb— it'll sweep you off your feet." Kefka giggled, admiring his handiwork as he fastened a bit of the flesh to the end of the stick. He jabbed it into the fire once again, where it promptly caught fire, glowing a bright yellow. Groaning as he straightened, the mage strolled off after Adel, whistling a dismal tune all the way. At least he was well rested.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Nov 22, 2008 4:24:46 GMT -5
((I couldn't think of anything, but I said I would post, so here's my post. Let it never be said that I am a liar. I suppose it could be said that I am a filthy double-talker, but let's ignore that part. I'll have a post tomorrow. Srsly. Srsly srs. It will have bats attack them and Adel will yell "Goddamn bats, man!"
...No it won't, but I really wish I could get away with that and still be in character.))
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Post by Vivi Orunitia on Nov 22, 2008 8:16:00 GMT -5
((You could be attacked by red bats...))
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Nov 23, 2008 6:27:01 GMT -5
((Nah. Good idea, though.))
Adel ignored the retarded puns of the man as she walked slowly into the depths of the cave. One of these days he was going to say something useful and she was going to ignore it, but until that day came she was content to filter out everything he said that wasn’t yelled in a panic. She figured that if the day came where he whispered some secret to survival and she ignored what he said, at least she would die without a headache. Adel might have had a tendency to exaggerate.
As Kefka caught up, she noticed an odd burning substance on the end of his torch. Of course the bombs were flammable. Of course they were. Now Kefka had a better torch than her and she was going to need him to see eventually. That was just perfect. She thought about taking it from him, but had a brief visualization of a torchless Kefka sneaking off into the darkness to get away from her; a scenario she could not tolerate.
After an hour of walking, another hour of backtracking from a dead end, and two more hours of walking in another direction, Adel began to feel waves of fatigue hit her as she remembered that the two of them had intended to go to sleep before the bombs had attacked. Well, she claimed they attacked when they were attracted to Kefka’s fuss over the fire, anyways. Kefka, on the other hand, claimed that they merely wandered uncomfortably close before Adel rushed them in a mad bloodlust. Adel stopped to argue over this point on three separate occasions for a period of roughly fifteen minutes a piece. What time was it, anyways?
Shambling slowly and lost in thought by this point, Adel failed to notice a thin rope strung across the width of the tunnel about a foot above the ground, and promptly tripped over it. She didn’t fall to the ground, but she did stumble rather embarrassingly for a moment. This probably would have been the source of much mockery from Kefka, except that the rope was apparently a trip wire. No sooner did she trip than a very large, very heavy log fell from a fixed position above the two, swinging by a rope toward them with an assortment of punji sticks fixed to it. Instinctively, Adel raised her hands to stop it from colliding with her face. She was able to do so—the wood audibly cracking when caught between Adel’s magically enhanced might and its own inertia—at the cost of her left wrist. While her right hand managed only to graze one of the sparsely placed sticks, resulting in a small gash on her right thumb, her left hand had gone clean over one only to have it puncture her wrist, going clean through it in the process.
Adel was silent for a moment, contemplating in an instant everything that had just happened to her. Her first instinct was to, well, scream. She held back, though, partially out of shock and partially to save face. Instead, she managed a pained grunt, followed by a strange wheezing noise and labored sigh. Her second instinct was to remove the spike from her wrist, which she also did not act on. Due to the pain she felt in her to attempt to remove it, as well as the realization that it would cause her to bleed heavily, Adel merely pulled her wrist off far enough to allow her grab the spike’s base with her right hand and snap it off. This jerked the spike in her wrist, however, and finally elicited a short, but quite loud, cry from the sorceress.
Turning to Kefka, she wondered briefly if he would attempt to take advantage of the situation and kill her while she was in a crippled state. She dropped the train of thought after remembering his earlier heroism, and instead focused on blocking out the pain enough to appear unshakable. It wasn’t working, she know, but she could at least appear unnaturally tenacious by attempting to act as normal despite the pain. “Booby traps.” She stated angrily through gritted teeth, ignoring the fact that the existence of the traps were probably obvious by now. “Now you go first.” She ordered as she gripped her arm, attempting to stem blood flow to it. “I did my part.”
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Nov 24, 2008 2:33:50 GMT -5
((Ow. Owww. OW. o.o; Ow. Ouch. Yeesh.))
Kefka quickly grew tired of the frequent stops to argue a moot point. It was simple; if she hadn't attacked the bombs, they wouldn't have fought back. It was no fault of his if the brutish woman had gotten herself hurt fighting the things off, and it certainly wasn't his duty to go about protecting her. He knew better. With a bitter glower leveled at the back of Adel's head, Kefka trudged along behind her, prepared not to jump when she turned around to complain this time.
The walls of the cave this far in took on a slightly different appearance, as if, perhaps, it had been widened by the hands of man at some time. It made him uneasy to think that those who had hollowed out this cavern could still be here. They could be outnumbered, and in their current state, overpowered. The mage frowned at this; to have come all this way, only to be killed by some cave-dwelling thing? He was beginning to think it would be better to die at the hand of that damned sorceress; as much as he hated her, she wasn't all that bad. At least... at least she would be as cold and ruthless and— not that bad? What am I thinking?
A quiet noise shook him from his thoughts and he nearly ran into Adel as she stumbled forward with some unseen force. Kefka reeled back, landing again on his backside, where he watched as a very large, dangerous looking log swung down from the cave ceiling and straight into Adel. He let out a yelp, surprised when all the sorceress afforded was a pained grunt. The sound of wood—or was it bone—cracking and splintering echoed through the cavern, though the woman barely seemed to move with the impact. The mage rose slowly to his feet, gathering his torch and nearly dropping it at the sharp cry from the sorceress.
It startled him; not once had the woman shown weakness since they had met. Not that the countenance he met when she turned to him showed much in the way of pain, but it was undeniable with the quiver in her voice. Kefka stared wide-eyed at her damaged wrist, visibly sickened by the wound the trap had wrought. Had it gone all the way through her wrist? Ugh, yes. Yes it had. "Ow," he mouthed, barely tearing his eyes away when she motioned for him to go ahead. After that, he certainly didn't want to.
Of course, Kefka hadn't expected to feel this way about the wound, either. Injury made him uneasy. Death no longer bothered him, if it ever had, but injury... he felt sick. With some mild and somewhat unsettling curiosity, the mage reached out as if to touch the wound, brows furrowing when Adel shied away, her expression unfaltering. He moved again, grabbing hold of her arm this time to get a good look at the damage. He had no healing magic, and as bad as it was, she could easily bleed to death. Not that he cared; it would certainly make life easier for him in the long run. Despite this, Kefka found himself ripping a strip of fabric from the coat that had once been his, tying it in a tight knot just above the wound. She flinched away once more, but the mage held fast, sending her a pointed scowl. "That would have killed me," he grumbled, taking up his torch and turning to pick through the cavern ahead. He still wasn't sure why he had done that, but something told him that she could be useful later. "I guess you're not so useless, either."
((Let me know if this is okay, dahling.))
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Nov 26, 2008 5:28:55 GMT -5
While Adel had initially recoiled at the prospect of being touched by Kefka, half out of instinct, and half out of worry that he would purposely cause her more pain, something about his expression seemed to indicate he wanted to assess it rather than look at it for the sake of seeing a wound. Indeed, Kefka seemed mildly sickened by her wound, which didn’t seem promising at all. When he reached out again, quicker this time, Adel made no move to stop him. He grabbed her arm, which struck something of a nerve even if it might have been necessary, and began looking at it. She’d hoped for a moment that he might heal it, but—as would be expected from such a man—he apparently had no curative spells.
Surprising Adel, Kefka reached out for the coat wrapped around her top. For a fraction of a second she’d gotten the wrong idea from the action, and shot the clown a look that very well could have killed if she’d been at full capacity for magic. She’d quickly realized what he was doing, though, when he tore a strip of fabric from the coat and began tying a tourniquet around her arm. He was attempting to save her, she realized. Again his heroic nature shone forth, and again, Adel could wretch if it didn’t benefit her so damn much. Now she had to keep him around. Great.
“Not useless?” She responded, speaking with arrogant pride while clearly no longer putting her heart into arguing. “Humph.” She offered, saying nothing else. A million insults had all leapt from her throat only to die on her tongue, and she began to feel vaguely tired after some more walking. She wondered if they would die in such a silly place, and thought of how meaningless a death that would be. She had no heir, and even if she had one then the heir would inherit nothing but her weakened powers. She had no kingdom to offer her legacy. She had to live through this and get her revenge, and she had to reclaim what was hers. She had to.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Nov 27, 2008 3:05:22 GMT -5
"Don't like it?" Kefka chuckled quietly, eyes trained on the ground ahead. "Fine, fine, I take it back," he mumbled in as lighthearted a manner as was possible for him. What he had done just then, it made him uncomfortable. Unspeakably so, which was admittedly all for the better, as he certainly didn't want Adel to know. What he had done, he had done on purpose, and— he shrugged and thrust his torch out in front of him to get a better view. He really didn't want some slapdash booby trap to do him in. Although, that last one seemed particularly well thought out.
They made it through a relative long stretch of cavern, passing easily avoidable traps and those already sprung by unsuspecting animals. Kefka glanced momentarily back at Adel, curious about her condition. She was pale—paler than she had been before, at least—and that was all he could really tell in the short backward glance he had allowed himself. Something about the surrounding cave commanded him to be at attention. He was so absorbed in the cave floor just ahead that he did not see the network of cables running along the ceiling above.
They came upon what appeared to be another trip wire, and with a lazy wave to notify Adel, Kefka stepped carefully over the wire, taking pains to lift each leg high enough to carry him over safely. "I," Kefka started, cutting off with a startled look when another rope snapped around his leg. There was a noise up above, almost like slithering, and the rope around his ankle pulled taut, a little tighter than he had expected. The force literally pulled his feet out from under him, and he hit the floor, only to be dragged up again, upside down, by his ankle. With a snap, whatever mechanism that had snared him had him dangling from the ceiling by an ankle, a stunned look on his face.
In the time that it took the mage to come to his senses about what had just happened, the blood rush was already clouding his sight and dulling his hearing. He blinked at the Sorceress, unsure of whether that was shock or amusement plastered across her face, and frowned. "Of all the undignified," he trailed off, somehow grateful that it hadn't been another log of death. He strained to reach the rope that held him, but it was no good. He was too dizzy; he would just have to trust her. He really didn't want to trust her.
After a moments thought, Kefka sighed and glared at Adel, trying hard to look imposing despite his current situation. Was she laughing? "You... ugh," he mumbled, crossing his arms. "Get me down from here." At this rate it would be a miracle if he didn't pass out before she got around to cutting him down. "Soon," He breathed; he was already developing a headache.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Nov 29, 2008 2:06:51 GMT -5
Adel’s first reaction to Kefka’s predicament had been shock, if only because it happened so quickly. Followed by this had been wariness, as if Kefka had been trapped, that could mean more traps were close by. After scanning the ground, walls, and ceiling for traps, Adel found none and felt more at ease. Her third reaction was to watch Kefka swing helplessly upside-down for a few moments before starting into tired laughter. She would have laughed harder, but with the horrid pain and the blood loss, the humor she found in the misfortune of people she hated could only do so much to lighten Adel’s mood. Combined with Kefka’s unusual attitude toward her wound, and Adel was feeling less and less inclined to leave him up there.
Her mirth coming to a quick end after only around thirty seconds of laughter, Adel took notice of the fact that Kefka had, at some point in the last thirty seconds, asked her to get him down. Well, he had ordered her, but with her blood still slowly seeping out of her wound, with her stomach rumbling, and with fatigue tugging at her eyelids, Adel figured now wasn’t really the time to be indignant. Raising her good hand in the air, the sorceress pointed her index finger at the top of the rope and shot forth a small ray of fire until the rope caught fire. She realized it might make its way down to Kefka if left alone, but assumed the clod weighed enough that the rope would snap before he started ablaze.
Still, Adel couldn’t risk Kefka breaking his brittle neck in the relatively short fall he would take. Walking up to the hanging man, she waited a few moments before grabbing his leg and tugging on it, snapping the burning rope. Slowly she set him down without actually flipping him rightside-up, making sure not to appear too kind. She wanted to help the guy, if only because she had nobody else, but she wasn’t about to give off the impression that she care whether or not he was uncomfortable. She didn’t. Not at all.
“Are you okay?” She asked in a monotonous voice, looking the clown over to make sure he hadn’t hit his head or anything on the way up. Too overcome with various discomforts to mock the man, Adel merely extended her good hand to help him up. The sooner they were out of here, the sooner she could sleep without fear of whoever set those traps.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Dec 3, 2008 2:12:40 GMT -5
Overwhelmed with with a wave dizziness as he attempted to sit up, Kefka nearly slumped back to the floor where he had been placed. It took a moment for the room around the mage to stop sinking, and when it did, he righted managed to take the proffered hand and right himself. "Am I okay," he muttered, a deep frown set on his face as he bent to examine the ankle he had been hauled up by. "It's a wonder my leg wasn't pulled out of socket!" In checking, he found that, other than a band of dark red bruising around his ankle, he wasn't feeling much pain. Still, he removed the rope and straightene, scuffing his feet against the ground just to make sure. "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating."
He straightened slowly, stopping to grab his lost torch—which was still glowing brightly as ever—on the way. Kefka hadn't so much as glanced at the sorceress since she had freed him, and he wasn't keen on receiving the smug grin she surely had waiting for him. As such, he was surprised to find her looking disinterested, if not perhaps a touch curious. He shrugged and offered impassively, "I suppose we're even." The mage could care less about who owes whom at this point, but perhaps it was needed to keep things civil. Ugh, civility. How quaint.
Kefka turned a few times to reorient himself, deciding after a moment that they had been heading that way, and that was the direction in which they would continue. He motioned to Adel as he trudged forward once more, confident that she would still refuse to take the lead. He was simply going to have to be more careful. "I think that realigned my spine," he mumbled to no one in particular, suddenly uncomfortable with the deafening quiet of the cavern. He fought off the urge to scream out loud, just to hear how far the echo would carry. Just to further break the silence. How much longer did these tunnels carry on, anyway?
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Dec 17, 2008 6:32:39 GMT -5
These tunnels went on forever. Adel’s arm was killing her, and with her eyelids tugging themselves closed, she began to wonder if she would pass out while walking. She couldn’t sleep now, though. If she did, Kefka might leave her to be eaten while she was unconscious, or she might fall over on some trap. No, Adel would have to press on, and occasionally she would brush her wound to keep herself alert. So focused on staying alert was Adel that by the time torches began appearing, hammered into the walls with metal spikes and staying alight with the same fluid on Kefka’s torch, she hadn’t even noticed.
No, it wasn’t until she saw the rug that she realized something was amiss. It was right past a particularly clever trap Kefka had spotted, something involving a series of roots and a pitfall onto some jagged rocks, that her feet met something soft. When she’d looked down, she had been met with a rug of simple design that stretched about five feet. She looked curiously at Kefka, when she saw this, and didn’t know whether to grow excited or wary at the prospect of cave-dwelling people who set up traps and had the technology to at least whip together a rug.
It wasn’t until the tunnel ended at an open area, roughly the size of a small house, that Adel had any inclination what was going on. There was a fire pit with small number of cooking utensils in the corner, a few chairs sitting around a couple small tables, some of which even had tablecloths, and there were a number of other tunnels leading out of the main cavern. This was some kind of eating area and kitchen, it seemed. Unless the caves were more elaborate than they seemed, it also seemed to serve as a main hall between the other rooms of whatever this place was.
Small signs were hung next to each tunnel leading out that seemed to denote what the caves were being used for. Three were in blue paint, two were in red, and one was in black next to a collapsed tunnel. The blue signs listed off an armory, a supply den, and barracks. In parentheses on the barracks sign was written ‘captain’s quarters’. They were in some sort of makeshift military outpost? Adel’s heart rate began to increase as she wondered why it was that any modern military in the world would be forced to use such crude booby traps. Had the war been raging since her imprisonment, and this was now standard living arrangements for military personnel? Ridiculous. It must have been a rogue unit, or perhaps simply one hiding out in the mountains waiting for a chance to strike. No sense setting up a permanent outpost in Centra, after all.
One of the red signs was next to the tunnel the two had entered from, and read ‘the field’ along with a list of all the traps the two had encountered along the way. The other red sign, next to the tunnel across from the one they’d entered in, read ‘the ocean/forest’ along with a list of what she assumed were more traps. The black sign simply read ‘MONSTERS’, which was entirely too unnerving. Turning to Kefka, her mind first told her to ask him to look for supplies. Then it told her to ask him to check for the residents of this place. What she said, however, was a result of her mind telling her not to let Kefka off the hook for getting her here on a fluke.
“This does not count as taking me to civilization.”
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Dec 18, 2008 22:55:14 GMT -5
Kefka was still riding on the adrenaline that came from nearly taking the earlier pitfall—he had led Adel to believe that he'd merely discovered it through careful observation—and it took passing the fourth wall-mounted torch for him to finally catch on. The mage could hardly contain a smile as they passed over a rug of familiar design. A feeling of ease washed over him for a moment, waxing away as soon as they came across a rather small den. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that overcame him; the area—his surroundings were familiar, alright. Too familiar, and certainly unfriendly.
"No," he whispered, wheeling around Adel just as she turned to speak. "Oh, I know, I know, but this is... is this what I think it is?" He could think of only one militant group that made a habit of setting up post in caves—the Returners. Had they survived the Ruin? If so, why were they still around? Had they expected, even prepared for his return? Kefka might have afforded a smile at the thought, but somehow it didn't seem appropriate. Those rebels could be anywhere.
It didn't take long for the mage to decide to explore the supply den first; at least they could take what they needed and beat a hasty retreat if need be. It was apparent as soon as he entered the small room, however, that it hadn't been touched in quite some time. What supplies remained were stored in crates, many of which lay strewn across the floor. Regardless, the little shelter was pretty well stocked, albeit devoid of fresher food with the exception of a few preserved jars and cans. Had this outpost been deserted? A fine layer of dust covering the supplies appeared to attest to that idea.
Kefka glanced back at the sorceress as began quietly moving boxes. "Keep an eye out," he mumbled softly, setting aside a box of medical supplies, "I don't think we should expect trouble, but I can't be sure. For all I know, there could be a barrack full of 'em sleeping in the next room." Of course, there was an easy solution for that, if there was. Torch 'em. They would be none the wiser and he had a nifty new spell up his sleeve that he was just itching to use.
The mage pushed the box of medical supplies toward Adel, shuffling around a few more boxes to hide the gesture. It wasn't that he was at all concerned for her health, but that he was tired of seeing that wound. It hadn't even occurred to him that the sorceress hadn't once complained about her condition. Satisfied in knowing just what they had at their disposal, shoved a potion bottle in his pocket as he straightened.
Without so much as informing Adel of his plan, Kefka slipped past her into the open cavern, and made off towards the barracks. Heart pounding as he stepped into the cavern, the mage pondered briefly on just what he hoped was waiting for him in the room ahead. He wouldn't begrudge the chance to cause some pain, though he couldn't be sure if he was up for a fight in his condition. Then again, what chance would a simple human have against a magic user like himself? Now, several, that was a different story.
So it was in finding nothing, that Kefka felt both relief and disappointment at once. Still, there was no shaking the feeling that came with passing through the cot-filled room, finding nothing but the long abandoned personal effects of missing soldiers. In fact, he found delight in the prospect that these men had left the caves for battle, never to return. So much so that, as he passed into the smaller den just past the barracks, a genuine, if not a bit unnerving, smile was plastered across his lips. There was a more personal touch decorating what Kefka took to be the leader's quarters. A picture here, a letter there, and a journal that felt weighty and real in the mage's hands. With a contented sigh, he settled down onto a cot that once belonged to the enemy, reading a particularly riveting depiction of his favorite moment in history.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Dec 28, 2008 5:58:48 GMT -5
Adel had ignored the box Kefka had pushed toward her until after he’d left, and she had done so entirely out of a pride so treasured that is could successfully mount an attack against every survival instinct in her body. As he left without a word, she waited a moment to see if he’d return before opening the box quickly and finding exactly what she’d been hoping for. In the midst of the more traditional supplies sat a small case of Hi-Potions: a brand of potion potent enough to make all but the most grievous wounds seem trivial.
Opening a Hi-Potion as quickly as she could with one working hand, Adel downed about half the bottle before pouring the other half on her arm. She didn’t know whether she was supposed to drink it or apply it to the effected area, but it wasn’t marked poisonous so she figured she’d try both. After several seconds and a feeling of mild relaxation, Adel’s arm began to knit itself back together. She felt a sharp pain as her newly healing body rejected the spike in her wrist, and kicked the nuisance away as it clattered to the ground. Adel proceeded to perform the same actions with a second potion for good measure, and promptly decided she needed to carry as many of these with her as possible.
On that note, Adel went looking for any sort of carrying device she could find. After a short search she managed to find five knapsacks placed conveniently by the door, probably for just such a situation. Well, they were probably meant for a similar situation, anyways. The bags were likely not meant for thieves, but were no doubt for carrying supplies out of the base. Loading a knapsack roughly three quarters full of food and potions, Adel figured she would save the last quarter for bullets. She filled Kefka’s bag in a similar fashion and made her way to the weapons as her eyes lulled closed for a moment. She’d sleep after packing, she told herself.
Once she got to the armoury, Adel came to the conclusion that either the world was in worse shape than she’d thought, or that this military was in pathetic shape. The cave was smaller than the supply cave, with most of the weapons strewn about carelessly. There were perhaps a dozen or so spears propped up against one of the less jagged walls, as well as roughly half as many swords; two without their scabbards and one actually broken. For every sword there was a shield, and for every shield there was some flaw that kept the Estharian woman from taking it. Knives lay strewn about on the ground by the larger weapons, none of which were especially fancy looking. All of the armor remaining appeared to be made of iron; rusty, clunky, and not in the sorceress’ size. On a small crate off in the corner lay two crossbows, at which Adel couldn’t help but chuckle.
The swords all appeared to be made of some kind of steel, but upon picking one up the sorceress found it curiously light. Adel struck the wall with it a number of times to test its durability, and it didn’t seem to so much as dull; not that it was especially sharp to begin with. It was a curious thing, she thought, but then if all any army has to rely on is melee weapons then they may as well be made from some sort of super metal. Strapping one of the larger ones around her waist by one of the belts lying around for such things, Adel figured she may as well be armed with something she hadn’t fashioned out of ruins. A vaguely dull, unremarkable weapon was better than an improvised rod, she figured, although no sword would protect her from the sun. Luckily, the sword’s weight combined with her own strength meant Adel likely wouldn’t even feel the extra burden of carrying both that hideous umbrella and a sword.
Adel then proceeded to tie a dagger around her boot’s ankle, and place another next to the sword on the belt. She had no idea how long she was going to be in the wild, so she figured she couldn’t be too armed. Passing right by the spears, the sorceress unwilling to wield anything that might break in her time outside civilization, Adel approached the crossbows with a smirk. She laughed aloud as she held one in her hand, realizing only now that not a single firearm could be found in the entire armoury. Pointing it at the wall, she squeezed the trigger only to have bolts spray from it at an unusually rapid speed. It appeared to be stuck, as the trigger would not depress even when she released it. As it shot bolt after bolt at everything in the room, Adel figured it best to simply point it away from her until it ran out of ammunition.
Placing the hellish contraption back on the crate, Adel promptly decided she was done searching for weapons, and that rudimentary firearms were unstable at best. Turning closer attention to the armour, Adel proved correct that the majority of the armour was not in her size. Most of the helmets seemed as though they would fit, but Adel refused to wear one. She refused to appear as rank-and-file as the soldiers she’d seen in the war. Each and every soldier became a faceless nobody the moment they put on their headgear, and they knew it. They only wore it to begin with out of concern for their precious skull, but Adel’s pride superseded said concern, and so she opted to remain vulnerable.
The breastplates were all designed for men, of course, much to Adel’s dismay. She didn’t care about the design, oh no. The problem lay with the fact that Adel could not wear them now that her form had changed. She couldn’t have worn them before out of sheer size related issues, but now that her chest had taken on feminine qualities she couldn’t comfortably fit the armor on. It was just as well considering how clunky it all was. Turning to leave after a few frustrating minutes looking for something that fit, the rather large woman spotted a pair of gauntlets that actually looked as though they might be worth a second look. Adel then slipped on the hand armour to find they were a remarkably good fit. Making a fist to test them, Adel nodded in satisfaction before taking her leave of the bolt-riddled cavern.
After restocking the remaining quarter of the knapsacks with food, Adel left Kefka’s by the armoury entrance in case he wanted to have a look at the hilariously low-tech weapons available. As she reached the cots of the barracks, Adel heard Kefka laughing to himself off in what she assumed to be the captain’s quarters. Ignoring the madman’s cackling, Adel looked among the belongings of the soldiers for anything of use and found nothing. Nothing of utilitarian use, anyways. What she did find was a white dress shirt, which she quickly donned under Kefka’s coat. She had hopped to find some pants as well, but Adel was apparently still too tall to fit in the trousers of anyone who served in this army. Sighing as she contented herself with the increasingly uncomfortable skirt, Adel sat on the cot and slumped over onto the pillow unceremoniously. Her legs hung over the bottom uncomfortably, but it was the closest thing to a bed she’d felt in years. For the first time since the day before her freezing, Adel fell asleep of her own volition.
((Obtained a backpack, a bunch of food, more Hi-Potions than we’re gonna need, two Mythril Knives, a Great Sword, a pair of leather gloves with mythril gauntlets over them, and a shirt.))
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Jan 2, 2009 0:24:50 GMT -5
Kefka yawned as he thumbed though the pages of the weathered little book, chuckling now and then when he ran across a particularly amusing entry. "...no casualties this time? Well, I'll just have to make up for that! Hah! Beautiful." The mage soon found, however, that heavy lids and watery eyes were not conducive to continuing story time; so it was with a sigh of resignation that he rose from the creaking cot, tucking the little leather-bound book into his belt for later. Perhaps it could serve as a later subject on which to gloat, though Kefka wasn't sure if it was wise to share the pending fate of the world with Adel.
It had occurred to the mage to stop and take a careful look around the captain room, for while of course personal items were few and far between in this cavernous bunker, it would be more likely for the captain to have something that caught his eye. In particular, a selection of rather fine weapons stacked neatly in a corner, some more for ceremony than functionality, could hold some interest. Of course, Kefka was never really a man for a sword, although a dagger was perfectly poetic. Still, within the pile of otherwise useless toys was a prize for the taking, that when found brought a sly smile to the madman's lips. It was a cane, or perhaps what could have been a small staff, topped with a sizable chunk of some valuable-looking stone. The body of the staff, which appeared to be made of a fine, dark wood, was painted with red and gold enamel. If what he suspected was true, then—"Ah." With a satisfying click, the body of the cane separated from the top, revealing a short and surprisingly well-kept blade. This would do nicely.
When Kefka finally pried himself from the goodies littering the captain's quarters, he emerged exactly one cane sword, a pair of shiny boots and a journal richer. The large form on one of the beds made him stop, wary at first, until he recognized Adel. It was no surprise to find the sorceress passed out on a cot in the barracks. She had lost a rather large amount of blood—even for a rather large woman—it was a wonder she hadn't keeled over sooner. He slipped quietly past the sleeping woman, not caring whether he bothered her or not, yet not really wanting to wake her, either. He had been enjoying his alone time, and he certainly wasn't going to allow her to dampen his mood.
The mage nearly tripped over the full knapsack left at the entrance of the armory; was she trying to kill him? Oh, right. Still, he might have been grateful if there didn't seem to be a barbed insult behind every gesture that the sorceress made. And why had she filled the bag so full? He could hardly lift, let alone carry the thing! He knelt down, picking through the pack and pulling out a can or a bottle here or there, leaving in the bag what would likely last him alone over a week. "There you have it," he grumbled, certain that Adel was making a statement on her distrust of him, or perhaps his lack of physical strength.
"Bitch," Kefka sighed, standing to survey the room... which had been sprayed with crossbow bolts. "What in the world?" Each bolt lead to another and another in an uneven line around the room, punctuated by a spray of bolts stuck in crates and stone alike. The mage shook his head and let out a short bark of a laugh; it was enough to restore his good mood. "Auto-crossbow," he said with a whistle, eyes wandering from the outright carnage Adel had wrought to the weapons and armor stacked about the room. Nothing there piqued his interest, of course, but he couldn't resist the chance to take a peek.
Kefka yawned as he turned and hefted the pack up over his shoulder. He was determined to get a full night's rest, this time of his own volition. He slipped through the barracks again, right past Adel and into the captain's room, where the cot looked comfier than the rest. In his good mood, the mage had forgotten his aching shoulder; he didn't even want to think about what it looked like. Stretching out on the cot, he produced the earlier pocketed bottle of potion and downed it, pulling a face at the taste. How old were those things, anyway. A sort of calm fell over him as the potion did its work, healing his bruised skin and dulling the ache in his muscles, and it wasn't long before the madman settled into an easy sleep.
((Aquired pack (with food, potions, etc) shiny boots, sword cane and one journal. Sweet.))
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