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... )
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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