Night 56: Entry Room
[ From here. ]
Deserted.
Regardless, Lightning took several steps into the large room, looking about and listening intently. Most importantly though, she was also trying to get a feel for the air there. She remembered quite clearly how it had seemed her first and second nights, how someone else going through ahead of her had caused the oppressive ( Read more... )
Deserted.
Regardless, Lightning took several steps into the large room, looking about and listening intently. Most importantly though, she was also trying to get a feel for the air there. She remembered quite clearly how it had seemed her first and second nights, how someone else going through ahead of her had caused the oppressive ( Read more... )
"I don't know what this 'miasma'"--cue the air quotes with her non-sword hand--"stuff is, but I do know that you're still standing between us and the door. And that makes getting you out of my way just one more thing on my to-do list. En garde!"
With that, Morgan slashed her sword out in what was intended to be a sharp downward arc just a hair to the girl's right. Since she wasn't going for the kill here, the move was mostly designed to get their opponent to start moving (not to mention that the best defense was a good offense). Clearing the path would keep their options open. Morgan might not have superhuman voodoo powers like LeChuck, but someone used to fighting would probably recognize agility and an experienced sword arm as the bite that backed up her bark.
She still wasn't expecting much of a challenge, but at least her sword was doing something other than getting rusty--a nice change of pace for this place, in Morgan's book.
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However, it didn't seem like anyone had found Landel yet and survived and/or came back from the dead to tell the tale, so Landel having his evil doctor mojo released on the institute via blundered attack didn't sound very plausible. That didn't even include the whole Aguilar Takeover twist. Signs were pointing more to the girl being brainwashed and delusional, like Scott. Or maybe she was just plain nuts- there were bound to be a few genuine cases.
Either way, she was still blocking their way to possible freedom. As Guybrush was about to ask about the miasma and its effects, Morgan took charge and made the first attack. He considered joining the fight for half a second: "Nah. I should check to see if if this miasma stuff really is out there. Besides, I already learned my lesson with trying to interrupt lady fights." While Morgan handled the guard, he tip-toed around the fight and headed for the door.
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She was, after all, the product of Major Legretta's training.
A pattern of light appeared beneath The Melodist and her assailant as focus coalesced to a fine point. Another set of movements from the man barely fazed her; the action Tear was about to undertake would be more than enough to throw off both bodies. She spoke, words flowing quickly and evenly: "O divine spear, run my enemy through." The light blinked out, and without warning, Tear somersaulted to the side, staff raised high. "Holy Lance."
Six spears made of pure white light hovered above the pair, their points aimed at the female. There was little warning before they flew toward her, all in hopes of running her through. Though they would leave no marks on her body, the resulting pain should be the same as any normal spear.
Meanwhile, the male was dealt with in a similar but less exaggerated method. From her new position, blue eyes met the man's, and Tear called forth a familiar ability: "Pow Hammer!"
A single red mallet fell from the ceiling, aiming for a particularly tender spot on the top of his head.
[For reference, Holy Lance can be seen here. Pow Hammer can be seen here. Also, if Guybrush gets hit, he'll be seeing pretty birdies for one round. :3]
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She didn't stop to look up; her instinctive sense of Oh man, that can't be good sent her into a midair somersault without her even having to think about it. She'd flipped fast enough to avoid getting caught right in the middle of them, but not fast enough to get out unscathed; the blows caught her in the back and seared painfully into her flesh.
She managed to stick the landing, but as she whipped around to see how badly she'd been stabbed (what? Not at all?), she realized her bandaged thigh was bleeding again. Not good. Seeping stab wounds kind of made the acrobatics a little more difficult, plus her back stung like heck. Pathetic, Morgan!
Now she was faced with a tough problem: she was hurt, Guybrush was probably about to be hurt, and they were fighting a freaky voodoo priestess (or whatever) she really didn't want to dismember. On the other hand, they were fighting. What kind of Mighty Pirate™ (let alone Mighty Pirate Hunter™) turned tail and fled from a fight before the job was done?
Morgan's common sense warred with her pride for about a second while the girl's attention was elsewhere. Pride won. She still wasn't committed enough for a fight to the death, but no way was she just going to cower back into the hallway like--uuggh, like that sissypants DeSinge or someone. At least one good hit, and then even if Guybrush ran for it and she felt compelled to chase after him, she still wouldn't feel like she'd lost.
She sprang forward on her good leg and took a long jump to try to pass her opponent, aiming a low slash at the girl's calf as she made a painful landing. The staff was sturdy enough to be a good defense against a direct hit, but it'd be harder to bring a weapon like that down fast and steadily enough to protect your lower legs well. At least, that was what Morgan was gonna have to bank on if she didn't want Guybrush to have to carry her out of here.
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His excuse was cut off as their attacker, who had been chattering to herself only a second before, called out the final words of what was presumably some sort of voodoo incantation, conjuring spears of light and sending them after her target. Though Morgan nailed her usual graceful landing, it didn't seem she'd made it out unscathed. "Morgan! You're okay, right?"
The guard turned to him, her eyes sharply meeting his own; Guybrush froze as she called for her next attack without the dramatic chanting buildup: "Pow Hammer!"
"Pow hammer? What's a pow- "
There was a faint light from above him as said hammer appeared out from the ceiling, spinning as it tumbled toward him. He had just enough time to see it coming to know it was probably going to live up to its name. " ... Hammer?"
POW! The hammer connected with Guybrush's head, sending the room, Morgan, their attacker, and all the little birdies that had suddenly appeared before his eyes spinning.
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The Pow Hammer connected with the man's skull. Leaving him to disorientation, Tear shifted to the woman, her free hand sliding down her side. Unfortunately, her attention moved a split second too late, and the other's sword cut across her calf, tearing through material to touch skin. Blood trailed and a hollow pain registered in the younger's mind, but ultimately, the fact was ignored. Her hand had already found the knives strapped against her garter, and as the opponent landed, two of the weapons were already flying in the woman's direction.
Once again, focus turned, and the incantation rose: "O healing power... First Aid!" A green light flashed from her form, the fonons working down to fix what had been undone. In less time than it had taken for the damage itself, Tear was made whole, the wound disappearing as though it had never been.
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What she saw was bad. Guybrush had been hit by the hammer and was dazed, not to mention possibly seriously injured--in other words, even less likely to be any help here than he'd been a minute ago. What was worse, the girl was calling out some weird incantation, and as Morgan watched, the wound in her opponent's calf disappeared completely.
"Oh my God," Morgan burst out. Part of her still wanted to look at this as an even better challenge, but even she knew when it was time to cut her losses; they weren't going to accomplish anything by fighting except getting themselves hurt even worse. They needed to bail.
The best bet she could think of for getting past the voodoo light-and-hammer attacks of death was to keep moving and make themselves harder to target. She threw herself into action immediately, darting and jumping an uneven path across to Guybrush and grabbing his hand with her free one to drag him along if she had to. "Then again, sometimes your way works too!" she shouted as she tried to make a beeline for the door to the outside.
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As Morgan and the guard exchanged blows, Guybrush swatted at the birdies whirling around his head, trying to get a view of the fight. "Shoo! Go away!" Even worse than the room spinning was the part where he was imagining things: one second, he was sure that Morgan had landed a blow; the next, there was a light and the guard was completely uninjured. Bracing his head between his flashlight and hook, he gave up on his batting attempts and waited for the birds to disappear. There were still a few fluttering weakly in front of his eyes as his hand was grabbed- thankfully, it was Morgan pulling him toward the door and not their attacker preparing to fling him into the wall.
The door, however, wasn't as unlocked as he was hoping. After a missed swing (stupid birds), he managed to get his hook on the knob, only to find it locked. He glanced at Morgan- wounded, bleeding, odds not good- then behind them to the guard. With the room finally settling, he drew his sword, swatting the last stray bird from in front of his face. "Mo, get the door open," he said in a whisper, his tone serious. "I'll keep her busy."
Guybrush stepped away from the door, putting himself between Morgan and the guard. Giving his sword a swing, he was ready for anything she threw at him; he was not expecting insults. "Let's see your hammer save you now!"
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There existed limits to fighting two at once, particularly two with swords. Fortunately, she held a particular hymn that might slow both down, assuming that there was a need. A part of her still couldn't follow through. At the end of the day, these people were patients, languishing minds requiring treatment.
Therefore, when the man spoke, she did not brush him aside immediately. The light patterns subsided, and Tear frowned, expression heavy. "Don't be a fool," she threw back. Her attention fixed on him; the other was set to the background at least for the moment. "You may not come back if you go out there!"
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And one thing she said was interesting. You may not come back. "Seriously?" Morgan turned around again just long enough to stare at the girl with an expression halfway between a gape and a grin. "That's the best news I've heard since I got here." Energized by the thought, she landed one last vicious kick on the lock and broke it. The strain of bearing all her weight on the injured leg sent her stumbling forward into the door, but the door swung open, and Morgan barreled through into the night air.
[to here]
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