FINAL TRIAL

[strangerpeople]

FINAL TRIAL

[The doors at the other end of the city do not open for the Titled. However, whatever is going on in there still brings forth bright lights from within, and ultimately, it is to the steps of the entrance that everyone is drawn to. It's not the most formal setting for figuring out the truth of the matter before them.

Eric's brought the snacks, at least.

The Dragonborn sits at the top of the stairs, looking down as everyone congregates.]

...Having this key...I am certain I can open the door with little difficulty. But before I do we must make certain we know and understand exactly what we will be facing. What we are facing. These people...they are doing something and we must ensure we can somehow stop it.


[The end is near. The objectives of this quest are simple:

Who is the Mastermind? What is going on in this world? And...of course...why did the Mastermind want to kill 15 strangers?

Good luck, Titled.]

Comments

[poorlovefool]

Y-You're just trying to distract us all from fighting you!

[Listen, he'll do exposition when he's not running from flames.]

How about I tell them about how you blackmailed me! "Irreparable damage to your beloved." That's what your damn note said!

[strangerpeople]

[The arrow slices her chin, though with a glow, the cheek is healed.]

It was your choice to believe what you wanted to believe.

[poorlovefool]

Wait...

[Eric glows too, though it's an involuntary reaction. Light crackles around him with anger.]

Are you saying even that was a lie?!

[strangerpeople]

I never said it was a lie. Simply that you chose to believe whatever you wanted to believe.

Your beloved's fate is no longer of any concern to me. They are likely dead, now, in any case.

[More fireballs.]

[poorlovefool]

Aaagh- no!

[He was afraid of that. He's been worried about that since the moment they didn't vote for Maglor. No, since the moment he got that letter, and the next motive was an item for reviving the dead, and he was reassured that he would get to keep it.]

Damn you...

[He's not that good of a sprinter, though. A fireball catches him on the shoulder.]

SHIT!

[carries_war]

Dammit...

[He moves in front of Eric and fires off another bolt.]

I hope you kept those healing potions I gave you.

[poorlovefool]

[He will use them when he is done PUTTING OUT THE FIRE!! yes. Just keep covering him, he will be grateful in a second]

[strangerpeople]

[Oh, you want that fire put out? Time for a freezing storm!]

[poorlovefool]

[Well.... that did put the fire out, but the cold deep within his bones matches his primal terror better. Chills like this permeate his darkest memories. Perhaps that woman knows that.

But. With what she just said to him, there's no reason to fear any longer. His shaking hands force the healing potion to his lips, swinging it back like a shot as he struggles to his feet.]

If that's how it is... I don't have anything left to lose.

[He sounds detached... well, he is. A world without Mira isn't worth living in anymore. He turns back, nods to Jr. as he raises his crossbow behind his support.]

Thanks, man. Now let's kill all of these motherfuckers!

[HE IS JUST GOING TO START SHOOTING LIKE CRAZY NOW AND GIVE NO FUCKS ABOUT ANY DAMAGE HE TAKES....]

[carries_war]

You got it. No mercy!

[If only they had repeating crossbows. OH WELL. One bolt at a time can still mess people up, especially when you're aiming for the throat.

He. Doesn't even really register how messed up Eric's behavior is. It's not like self-preservation is his strong suit, either.]

[poorlovefool]

[Crossbow bolts aside, anyone who comes near them is getting punched with all of Eric's strength, and he's going to continue with the eye lasers whenever he gets an opening. Though with how amped up he is, a flurry of crackling sparkles also surround his entire body whenever he does - it looks like he's blinking on and off as he screams bloody murder at the armies. His aim isn't perfect, though - he's not always getting these perfect neck shots. But that's fine. They're getting blinded in addition, and who cares about giving them a quick death anyway?]

[bythewaves]

You are wasting your strength and arrows.

[ a gentle hand on his shoulder, but a voice that commanded armies in his ears, steady as the sea ]

Breathe. Pick your shots. You are angry, but do not let it consume you. Use that anger, rather than let it use you.

[poorlovefool]

[He doesn't know how to do that. Control his anger. He doesn't really want to, either. The sooner he stops being consumed by rage, the sooner he'll be consumed by grief instead. So he just growls.]

Don't try to stop me!

[bythewaves]

I do not stop you, only advise [ a hand at his elbow, guiding his aim ]

Coming up on your left....now then up. Breathe. Two on your right. Stop wasting your shots.