Alistair (Theirin) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fatherlesskind) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-04-17 07:53 pm
fatherlesskind) wrote in entrancelogs2016-04-17 07:53 pm
Have mercy. Oh, have mercy.
Who: Alistair & Open | Alistair & Robyn
Where: Throughout the mansion
When: April 16th to 20th
Rating: PG-13 to start with, may be upped later
Summary: A Warden and some monsters that spread infection wherever they go. Business as usual really.
The Story:
April 16 to 18: Some people have no sense of personal space
These... things - Infected or whatever they were called - are enough like darkspawn that Alistair can't just hide out somewhere safe and hope everything will be OK. Even without that similarity he wouldn't feel right just sitting back while others might be in danger. Add to that the fact that he's not a hoarder by nature and has only what scraps of food the closet provides? He has no choice but to venture out sooner or later.
The important difference is, unlike darkspawn, he can't sense these. Hence, his current situation.
The deformed faces of the things that had ambushed him loom closer as he struggles to push them both off. His shield is keeping them off him for the moment but, off-balance and pinned against a wall, the weight of his own armour working against him, he can't easily force them back. His sword lays on the ground, just out of reach, where it had fallen when the creatures jumped him.
More worrying than his present situation - which really, he'll have completely in hand in just a second - is the sound of movement coming closer. If more are coming he... could be in trouble. Gritting his teeth he shoves harder against the snarling pair with designs on his nose. He just needs to get free before their friends arrive. If he can please manage that he'll be a good boy from now on and pray every day like he's supposed to. Just so long as he gets to keep his face.
Closed to Robyn: You are not the boss of me. She is.
Wardens on the whole are bad at staying home and avoiding danger. Maybe that's why they all have such shortened lives and it in fact has nothing to do with the taint. It's something to think about. Later. When there's not a pack of the creatures closing in on them with every clumsy step.
They haven't been detected yet but it's surely only a matter of time. Alistair has both sword and shield at the ready, peering around the corner to size up their opponents as they wander about the hall up ahead. Glancing over at Robyn questioningly he tilts his head towards them and asks softly, "Well? What do you think?"
She's by far the stealthier of them and knows what he's capable of while he's never seen her fight. If she thinks they should try to sneak around and avoid a fight then he'll be Mr Stealthy. Or he'll try. He makes no promises of success so if they are sneaking she's going first.
April 19: Nothing like a brush with death to make you... not like death much.
Once he'd recognised the infection for what it was and what it meant there had really only been one choice. He couldn't kill himself and it would be too much to ask anyone he knew to do so for him. Besides, he'd known since shortly after his Joining that sooner or later he'd succumb to the corruption in his veins and would become a monster if he didn't die first. This was just a different kind of monster with a different cause. But his course of action remained the same.
Alistair had shouldered his weapons and set out for the basement, searching out any of the creatures between him and it. If he runs into anyone fighting the things he throws himself into the fray, putting himself between them and danger with a blatant disregard for his own life or safety. On his own he engages the creatures without fear, slamming into one of the blind, deformed ones with a snarl, struggling to drive his blade into it as it forces him back.
(OOC: If he's not killed first Alistair will be turning on the last day so if anyone wants to run into him as one of the Infected feel free to throw something up or prod me for a starter. Prose or brackets are both fine, I'll match format.)
Where: Throughout the mansion
When: April 16th to 20th
Rating: PG-13 to start with, may be upped later
Summary: A Warden and some monsters that spread infection wherever they go. Business as usual really.
The Story:
April 16 to 18: Some people have no sense of personal space
These... things - Infected or whatever they were called - are enough like darkspawn that Alistair can't just hide out somewhere safe and hope everything will be OK. Even without that similarity he wouldn't feel right just sitting back while others might be in danger. Add to that the fact that he's not a hoarder by nature and has only what scraps of food the closet provides? He has no choice but to venture out sooner or later.
The important difference is, unlike darkspawn, he can't sense these. Hence, his current situation.
The deformed faces of the things that had ambushed him loom closer as he struggles to push them both off. His shield is keeping them off him for the moment but, off-balance and pinned against a wall, the weight of his own armour working against him, he can't easily force them back. His sword lays on the ground, just out of reach, where it had fallen when the creatures jumped him.
More worrying than his present situation - which really, he'll have completely in hand in just a second - is the sound of movement coming closer. If more are coming he... could be in trouble. Gritting his teeth he shoves harder against the snarling pair with designs on his nose. He just needs to get free before their friends arrive. If he can please manage that he'll be a good boy from now on and pray every day like he's supposed to. Just so long as he gets to keep his face.
Closed to Robyn: You are not the boss of me. She is.
Wardens on the whole are bad at staying home and avoiding danger. Maybe that's why they all have such shortened lives and it in fact has nothing to do with the taint. It's something to think about. Later. When there's not a pack of the creatures closing in on them with every clumsy step.
They haven't been detected yet but it's surely only a matter of time. Alistair has both sword and shield at the ready, peering around the corner to size up their opponents as they wander about the hall up ahead. Glancing over at Robyn questioningly he tilts his head towards them and asks softly, "Well? What do you think?"
She's by far the stealthier of them and knows what he's capable of while he's never seen her fight. If she thinks they should try to sneak around and avoid a fight then he'll be Mr Stealthy. Or he'll try. He makes no promises of success so if they are sneaking she's going first.
April 19: Nothing like a brush with death to make you... not like death much.
Once he'd recognised the infection for what it was and what it meant there had really only been one choice. He couldn't kill himself and it would be too much to ask anyone he knew to do so for him. Besides, he'd known since shortly after his Joining that sooner or later he'd succumb to the corruption in his veins and would become a monster if he didn't die first. This was just a different kind of monster with a different cause. But his course of action remained the same.
Alistair had shouldered his weapons and set out for the basement, searching out any of the creatures between him and it. If he runs into anyone fighting the things he throws himself into the fray, putting himself between them and danger with a blatant disregard for his own life or safety. On his own he engages the creatures without fear, slamming into one of the blind, deformed ones with a snarl, struggling to drive his blade into it as it forces him back.
(OOC: If he's not killed first Alistair will be turning on the last day so if anyone wants to run into him as one of the Infected feel free to throw something up or prod me for a starter. Prose or brackets are both fine, I'll match format.)
no subject
"It doesn't have to show the end of the mansion - you don't really think it goes on forever, do you? Is that even possible?" Even magic can only do so much. In the real world. Which he has doubts about this actually being part of instead of something more like the Fade. Which could go on forever. Not the point. "It would just have to show where people live. No one is going to take a room that's several days trek from the rest of the mansion." That would just be absurd and impractical. They'd need camping supplies just to get to bed.
no subject
"Check in with the person making the handy brochures," he says instead with the whisper of a smile in his voice. Down here where the spore clusters are worse, the grim atmosphere of the mansion sits too heavy for much more than that. "Maybe they'll make you one. I seem to have misplaced mine--must have left it in my other robes."
Spotting a splintered door handle that looks like it's been recently pried at, he moves to investigate, signalling Alistair to be ready with a nod before pushing the door open with the end of his staff.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
Silence. A quick check around the room and a glance in the bathroom turns up nothing except a towel thrown haphazardly over the bedroom mirror as if someone had started to make themselves comfortable and thought better of it.
"Hm, all clear." Giving the room one last sweep with his eyes, he picks up the dropped thread of conversation. "I picked a direction and walked for twenty minutes once. I wouldn't have even known Alice's bedroom, that one down at 865, was there if not for those visions we had scattered all over the place. Who knows what's hiding in this maze that we haven't turned up yet."
no subject
Following Anders to the damaged door Alistair stands guard as the other Warden checks inside, peering down the hall as he waits. None of the rest of the doors look to have been broken or anything and they're all firmly closed, the area silent. And again, they can only search so far.
Once Anders emerges again he turns back towards the stairs so they can check the next floor down. The quiet, empty halls do a wonderful job of keeping him on edge and Anders seems determined not to help.
"Did you have to put it like that? I'm going to have trouble sleeping now. Even when things are back to normal." Normal for Wonderland. Which included seemingly endless hallways down which anything could be hiding. Great. Now he was going to be paranoid every time he looked down one and saw it stretching away as far as the eye could see.... Not that that wasn't a little off-putting all on its own. But now he was going to think about what could be down there as well.
Like fungus monsters. Or worse.
no subject
The hallway is still when he steps back out. Not a single peep. The quiet doesn't seem right to him, either; he has the discomforting feeling the guillotine blade is ready to come down on his head and he just has yet to look up and notice it.
"I don't like how quiet it is. You'd think it'd be crawling with them."