Strunkriidiisk
THE LEGEND
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[x] Check out that building at the top of the hill
Need to fill up our geriatric-murdering quota.
Need to fill up our geriatric-murdering quota.
Anderson Quest: Killing Vampires and Werewolves and Leprechauns (Hellsing/Bloodborne)
- Thread starter Tricia
- Start date
- Location
- Poland
That was a nice man. Did we offer him a bible?
Malaquez
[MUFFLED EUROBEAT]
- Location
- Singapore
Knew we forgot to do something.
Boss Battle: vs. The Witches of Hemwick
From your vantage point, the only other paths you see lead to a wide stone structure and a sheer drop into the lake, respectively. Seeing as you left your trunks in your other sleeves, your path is clear. You walk across the clearing, pausing only to grab another wispy sickle-wielder that decided to accost you and smash its face into the ground a couple dozen times to the tune of "Whiskey in the Jar."
The Dubliners' version, obviously.
The massive doorway opens into a room filled with mummified bodies, strewn about haphazardly on the floor and on broken bed frames. Since you see no tools, chemicals, or any other object the mummification process involves, you're forced to assume this is either a storage warehouse, the world's shittiest pyramid, or the home of someone with a bizarrely specific hoarding issue. A steep stairway carves its way through the earth and you mosey on down it with blades in hand. You've spent way too much time in Yharnam not to recognize the scent of impending violence.
The room below lends credence to the warehouse hypothesis. Cavernous and oblong, it features a pair of wooden ramps that hug the left and right walls, nearly joined by a broken arch. Barrels litter the arena, empty if the sounds of your knocking are to be trusted, and more mummies dangle from roof on chains like fucked-up cocoons. The well-made statues that dot the upper portions of the walls stand at odds with the ramshackle aesthetic.
"Come on, come on," you say, scraping your bayonets together. "You and I both know somethin's gonna pop out the second I let my guard down. I ain't lettin' it down anytime soon, so let's just get on with it."
You can almost swear you hear a series of hushed whispers, after which a swirling mass of blood-red light rises from the center of the room and coalesces into a sicklebitch. Unlike the others, this one meanders towards you at a sedate pace. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you hurl a bayonet at its face, anticipating the inevitable dodge or unexpected resistance to high-speed impalement.
It takes the blade flush to the noggin and goes down in a heap before dissolving. You wait a few moments for it to rise more powerful than ever, but there's just silence.
"So what's the gimmick?" you ask the air. "There gonna be more of them? Steadily fillin' the room until I'm overwhelmed by numbers or some shit?"
You definitely hear an embarrassed cough this time, although you can't quite pinpoint the location. The acoustics in here are surprisingly good.
Three more of the lanky fucks shine into being and you crack your neck. If that's how they want to play it, you're more than happy to oblige.
As the light fades away, you catch sight of a glint on the left-hand ramp that fades along with it. Now that you're paying attention, you can make out the sound of someone trying very hard to breathe very quietly. You dispatch the trio with casual throws and leap towards the spot with knee extended.
A lumpy form slides into the visible spectrum as soon as your flying knee makes an utter mess of its ribcage. The thing is preposterously stooped, what appears to be the world's gnarliest case of scoliosis giving it a near-ninety-degree angle between hipbone and backbone. Its robe is crusted with eyes, clustered together like barnacles, and hair so filthy and matted it probably has its own ecosystem covers its face. All in all, the thing comes up to about your belly button and, judging by how fast it made the voyage from the tip of your knee to a dent in the wall, weighs about thirty-five kilos soaking wet.
You pick up the twitching heap, thankful for your gloves, and dangle it in front of you by the collar.
"Ye summonin' these things?"
Nod.
"They've been tryin' ta kill me, ye know."
Nod.
"Can't say I appreciate that."
Sad nod.
"Now I'm gonna have ta squish ye."
Frantic, ultimately futile shakes of the head.
As you scrape bits of old lady off your club, you're mildly surprised to see another handful of sicklethings sauntering towards you in vaguely menacing fashion. You're less surprised when, after you smash them to bits and the next group queues up, you see another glint on the far wall. This one actually tries to scramble away before you lift its newly-visible body into the air with one hand. Identical to its sibling, it attempts to cast some sort of spell that, to its misfortune, is slower than your uppercut.
As you wind up to club it into paste, you pause.
"Hang on. Mind if I ask ye a question?"
Dazed shrug.
"You two summoned these things."
Nod.
"And ye can summon a bunch."
Nod.
"Why didja stay in here with 'em? Why didn't ye just sit upstairs, wait for me to go down 'em, then block the doorway and summon a billion of 'em ta kill me at yer leisure?"
Raised finger, lowered finger, pondering pose, slump of defeat.
You almost feel bad when you toss the thing up, rear back, and smear it across the opposite wall.
After lighting the commemorative lantern that just cropped up, you walk through the opposite door into a small office. A man sits slumped on a chair, long dead but well-preserved by your estimation. On his lap sits a curious metal brand that you pocket. Gehrman'll probably want to take a look at it at some point.
It's a dead end beyond that. Simon really didn't miss out on much loot, all things considered.
[] Go to the crossing
[] Find some other way to procrastinate on that
[] Write in...
The Dubliners' version, obviously.
The massive doorway opens into a room filled with mummified bodies, strewn about haphazardly on the floor and on broken bed frames. Since you see no tools, chemicals, or any other object the mummification process involves, you're forced to assume this is either a storage warehouse, the world's shittiest pyramid, or the home of someone with a bizarrely specific hoarding issue. A steep stairway carves its way through the earth and you mosey on down it with blades in hand. You've spent way too much time in Yharnam not to recognize the scent of impending violence.
The room below lends credence to the warehouse hypothesis. Cavernous and oblong, it features a pair of wooden ramps that hug the left and right walls, nearly joined by a broken arch. Barrels litter the arena, empty if the sounds of your knocking are to be trusted, and more mummies dangle from roof on chains like fucked-up cocoons. The well-made statues that dot the upper portions of the walls stand at odds with the ramshackle aesthetic.
"Come on, come on," you say, scraping your bayonets together. "You and I both know somethin's gonna pop out the second I let my guard down. I ain't lettin' it down anytime soon, so let's just get on with it."
You can almost swear you hear a series of hushed whispers, after which a swirling mass of blood-red light rises from the center of the room and coalesces into a sicklebitch. Unlike the others, this one meanders towards you at a sedate pace. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you hurl a bayonet at its face, anticipating the inevitable dodge or unexpected resistance to high-speed impalement.
It takes the blade flush to the noggin and goes down in a heap before dissolving. You wait a few moments for it to rise more powerful than ever, but there's just silence.
"So what's the gimmick?" you ask the air. "There gonna be more of them? Steadily fillin' the room until I'm overwhelmed by numbers or some shit?"
You definitely hear an embarrassed cough this time, although you can't quite pinpoint the location. The acoustics in here are surprisingly good.
Three more of the lanky fucks shine into being and you crack your neck. If that's how they want to play it, you're more than happy to oblige.
As the light fades away, you catch sight of a glint on the left-hand ramp that fades along with it. Now that you're paying attention, you can make out the sound of someone trying very hard to breathe very quietly. You dispatch the trio with casual throws and leap towards the spot with knee extended.
A lumpy form slides into the visible spectrum as soon as your flying knee makes an utter mess of its ribcage. The thing is preposterously stooped, what appears to be the world's gnarliest case of scoliosis giving it a near-ninety-degree angle between hipbone and backbone. Its robe is crusted with eyes, clustered together like barnacles, and hair so filthy and matted it probably has its own ecosystem covers its face. All in all, the thing comes up to about your belly button and, judging by how fast it made the voyage from the tip of your knee to a dent in the wall, weighs about thirty-five kilos soaking wet.
You pick up the twitching heap, thankful for your gloves, and dangle it in front of you by the collar.
"Ye summonin' these things?"
Nod.
"They've been tryin' ta kill me, ye know."
Nod.
"Can't say I appreciate that."
Sad nod.
"Now I'm gonna have ta squish ye."
Frantic, ultimately futile shakes of the head.
As you scrape bits of old lady off your club, you're mildly surprised to see another handful of sicklethings sauntering towards you in vaguely menacing fashion. You're less surprised when, after you smash them to bits and the next group queues up, you see another glint on the far wall. This one actually tries to scramble away before you lift its newly-visible body into the air with one hand. Identical to its sibling, it attempts to cast some sort of spell that, to its misfortune, is slower than your uppercut.
As you wind up to club it into paste, you pause.
"Hang on. Mind if I ask ye a question?"
Dazed shrug.
"You two summoned these things."
Nod.
"And ye can summon a bunch."
Nod.
"Why didja stay in here with 'em? Why didn't ye just sit upstairs, wait for me to go down 'em, then block the doorway and summon a billion of 'em ta kill me at yer leisure?"
Raised finger, lowered finger, pondering pose, slump of defeat.
You almost feel bad when you toss the thing up, rear back, and smear it across the opposite wall.
PREY SLAUGHTERED
After lighting the commemorative lantern that just cropped up, you walk through the opposite door into a small office. A man sits slumped on a chair, long dead but well-preserved by your estimation. On his lap sits a curious metal brand that you pocket. Gehrman'll probably want to take a look at it at some point.
It's a dead end beyond that. Simon really didn't miss out on much loot, all things considered.
[] Go to the crossing
[] Find some other way to procrastinate on that
[] Write in...
Last edited:
KnightIcarus
Snark Knight
- Location
- New York
[X] Find some other way to procrastinate on that
burningclaw2
The Power of the Tomato!
[X] See if you can find Alfred, maybe see if he has a message for any of his old pals that might possibly still be alive before you go to Cainhurst Manor.
You are a poet, Tricia.
[x] Go to the crossing
Sinsystems
Patron Librarian
[x] Go to the crossing
- Location
- Pittsburgh, PA
[X] Go to the crossing.
SpiritualSlacker
Nurse God of Mischief
- Location
- Grandma's attic
[X] Go to the crossing.
We can always come back afterwards if we need to get another Vigorous Stroll out of our system. Also, and this might just be the old RPG-paranoia talking, I kind of get the feeling our honorable QM is trying to lead us astray and will throw something bad at us if we give them the time,,,
Just kidding. Tricia, you're great. You make me laugh and, occasionally, cry.
We can always come back afterwards if we need to get another Vigorous Stroll out of our system. Also, and this might just be the old RPG-paranoia talking, I kind of get the feeling our honorable QM is trying to lead us astray and will throw something bad at us if we give them the time,,,
Just kidding. Tricia, you're great. You make me laugh and, occasionally, cry.
- Location
- the Netherworld Dood
[x] Go to the crossing
[X] Go to the crossing.
[x] Go to the crossing
Last edited:
AnonymousRabbit
Rabbit Faced
[x] Go to the crossing
Daniel Estacado
ZA WARUDO
[X] Find some other way to procrastinate on that
-[X] Go show Gehrman the weird metal brand you found.
Ah, the Witches of Hemwick an easy boss fight that gets even easier if you have zero Insight on your second encounter as they won't use any of their spells.
-[X] Go show Gehrman the weird metal brand you found.
Ah, the Witches of Hemwick an easy boss fight that gets even easier if you have zero Insight on your second encounter as they won't use any of their spells.