Prison Faction

[Dysole]

So they had done it. Some of them had managed to overpower the guards and escape. The Marro chuckled to itself. For how long though? As impressive as these other lifeforms thought they were they were still sacks of flesh built upon bone or in the soulborgs case sack of metal built upon more metal. All easily killed. Disposed of. That was what they were.

And now one of them was danging a pair of keys a chance at escape three feet from it. It could have taken that opportunity right now. That was boring though. Remaining where it was would provide more entertainment and more opportunites for well death.

It looked at Larco, fed him a glare of hatred with a side of distrust and then turned away. If they escaped, good for them even though it felt more likely their deaths or recapture were more likely. If they didn't they'd be in the same predicament or worse. It decided to take the devil it knew because at least that devil was familiar. It was used to choosing between two devils. Few marros weren't. This one was just especially suited for that job.

[bumper15]

Orin watches as Larco dangles the keys in front of everyone.
He comes to the bars and holds out as much of his hand as he could. He smiles, "Kyrie toss those keys to me!"
By some miracle he catches the keys with the chains on and opens the cell.
"Finally out of that rat-hole!" he flips the keys to Ian, "Whenever you're ready Cross, we have work to get done. Don't forget the dwarf."
He laughs, ecstatic at the thought of soon being outside. To feel the breeze rushing through his body, and the safety of his trees. The others needed him if they stood any chance against what was left of the undead hordes. But first he had to get out of this pit of death. He pulls a knife out of his boot and proceeds to pick the lock on the chains.
"Always carry an extra knife!" he says to no one in particular.
He smiles as the lock opens and all the chains clatter to the floor.
His smile fades as he looks at the marro. This creature was an abomination to everything the gods put in this world. A cruel joke played by one of the lower gods. A beast that ruins all of nature's glory for their sole of conquering and subjugating others. Orin goes up to the cell, looks in and turns away.
"Not today." He mutters.
The marro will die, he thinks to himself, but this one may prove different from the rest. He wished he could tell from the marro's face.
He turns to the door to wait for everyone and to keep the guards out. He needed them for one major break attempt before they themselves left.
They still had two more to find, the elf-boy and the one who called himself Bond.

[dragonfire9788]

Sitting in his cell, Iain observed everyone else trying to make their escape attempt. "Do you all honestly think this will work? We are a small band of people, unarmed, up against an entire prison filled with guards armed to the teeth. The alarm will be raised in a few seconds and everyone out of their cells will be killed. You have lost surprise and they are prepared now. Stay out and die, be my guest. I'm staying here, remaining the only intelligent one in this cell block."
He smiles slowly while leaning back against the wall of his cell. These people were too jumpy. They needed to learn to buy their time until the opportune moment to strike came. This, right now, was not the opportune moment. The warden would be overpowered and probably executed. If not, he'd be shipped off to solitary and when the time to escape came, he would not be involved. He also wondered how people smuggled weapons into the jail when they guards had all searched them thoroughly.

[flameslayer93]

"Foolish Iain, was it not you who stated that these guards are armed with multiple weapons? Well we have a corpse who was kind enough to bring us some trinkets and you wanna turn them down? I'm leaving, who's with me?" Larco began raising his ewly aquired blade and checking over the the guard for salves and other handy items.

[bumper15]

Orin glanced between Ian and Larco. he had come to trust the soldier's judgment. But the opening to escape would probably not come again. He looked back out the doorway, he saw cameras lining the corridor. They already knew he had escaped.
In a whisper, so the cameras wouldn't pick up, he said, "I'm not leaving, but they saw me escape. I'm dead if I stay. Ian, they saw me toss you the keys, you're as dead as the rest of us."
He moved to the side of the doorway. Out of sight of the camera, he continued, "I've seen my way around this place, I'll find somewhere to hole up until you and the dwarf escape," he paused, the next was said with total finality, "Ian you're dead if you stay, this suicidal plan is all you got. I need to find my bow and sword."
He walked out. He turned back and said, "I'll see you all either on the other side of these walls or on the way to Hades. This is our day of salvation, only a fool would miss it."
With that he melted into the shadows and vanished to everyone in and out of the room.

[ABOMINATION]

The hag glared at the guard, gnashing her teeth in fury. The guard backed away from the kyrie, glancing to the sides, as if to find a glimmer of escape.

"How many escaped, guard?" She yelled at the unfortunate soul in front of her.

"N..not many. Two...three...possibly four. Should I order a search?"

She sat down and nodded, huffing under her breath.

"He will not be pleased at this broach of security. How in Valhalla did those prisoners smuggle in weapons?"

The guard shrugged while searching for an answer.

"An small riot in the kitchens at the time of the processing might have disracted the guards. It took us almost an hour to settle the damn thing."

The hag covered her eyes and moaned.

"Get every free man in this building. I want some to take the remaining prisoners to the arena. The rest will comb this blasted dungeon from rooftop to the lowest cell. Find. Those. Prisoners."

Nodding profusely, the guard edged his way out of the room.



Warden watched as the crowds of creatures gather in the stands of the arena. Perhaps he should join them. Surprisingly, the alarm had not yet been raised. Casually, he stowed his Evisceraxe under his coat, then covered his head with the large leather hood on the coat. A guard walked past, but Warden walked on as if nothing had happened. The best way to be hidden was not to hide, the saying went.



In the dungeon, the prisoners sat silently. Some wondering if they'd made the right choice by staying behind with Iain, while a select few of their comrades had decided to brave the dangers of the outside. Iain sat on a small, grimy stool, smoking one of his few remaining cigarettes.

Suddenly, whistles blew and shouts could be heard.

Iain nodded.

"Let's see if those idiots survive the next few hours," he muttered.

The stomp of a myriad of boots filled the passage ways and rooms.

"They're comin'."

In a few minutes, 20 armed guards were in the room, hustling the prisoners out of their cells, all the while barking commands for them to stand still and shut up.

Then, the march began. Through the dank, dark halls they marched, the only light coming from a few sputtering torches that revealed how truly desolate this place was. Here and there, a ragged and lean face could be seen in the light, gazing up at the ceiling.

"W--water! Water!"

The prisoners shuddered, but kept marching.

Eventually, a slow, rythmic drumming could be heard.

"Death...death...death....death....death...."

Over and over the word was repeated by a thousand tongues. A large gate opened, and the prisoners were shoved into the glaring sun, scorching their hands as they fell into the roasting hot sand.

Multiple melee weapons lay around, and Iain picked up one.

"Well, at least we have our weapons, lads."

A loud voiced boomed over the arena.

"ATTENTION....LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. TODAY, WE PRESENT YOU WITH THE SOLDIERS OF THE WELLSPRING WAR!!! SOLDIERS WHO HAVE KNOWN NOTHING BUT PAIN AND DEATH FOR YEARS!!! WE BRING THEM TO YOU NOW, TO WATCH THEM FIGHT THE BEASTS THAT WE HAVE CAPTURED FROM AFAR!!!! LET THE GAMES....BEGIN!!!!!!!


At the end of the arena, another gate opened. Red eyes appeared from the inky blackness. Roars could be heard. So, this was their fate.


In the stands, Warden watched over the proceedings, huddled between a fat old man and a few young brats, not but 17 years of age.

He smiled. It would be a good show, wouldn't it?


(OOC: Feel free to fight the monsters, and make up any type you want.)

[Claws of Death]

Nightmare wanders the dark halls of the fortress, his skill with seeing in the dark allowing him to see with no trouble. In his hand, he was carrying the blade of the guard he had just killed. He scans the area quietly, his red eyes glowing brightly. Luckily, no guards had sounded an alarm. However, he knew that they were searching for him and the Warden. Suddenly, a sound of thundering voices, follwoed by a parade of Guards towards the colosseum. Luckily, Nightmare had taken cover behind a wall before the guards came.

"Hmmm.... it appears that the games have begun," Nightmare grumbles in his head. Moving strangely quiet for a being of his size, Nightmare heads towards the arena's stands, the sword hidden in his tasset.........

[bumper15]

Orin loved hiding. Playing cat and mouse with his quarry was a favorite pasttime of his. However the roles were reversed this time, he was the mouse. He was almost caught twice, and by Providence's good graces they never saw him. He hadn't killed anyone yet, something he was grateful for.

He turned a corner and saw an iron door staring him in the face. He walked to it, somehow knowing that this was what he was looking for.He tried the door, but as he expected, it was locked.

He heard footsteps coming down where he had come. He hid in the shadows and saw a guard coming towards the door. He watches as the guard unlocks and opens the door.

Orin wastes no time, in a dash he's inside just as the door closes. He waits for the guard to notice, knife, as always, ready in his hand. There was no sound, again luck smiled on him, he managed to sneak in without the guard noticing.
He waits for the guard to leave, and when he did, he leaves the shadows and looks around.

All over the walls, on shelves were all the prisoner's weapons. The guard took many of the weapons, but thankfully Orin's were still there.

He grabbed his bow and rapier and turned to leave. As Orin turns around, he jumps in shock.

Staring him in the face is a huge, ghastly sword. Orin laughs

"So this must be Nightmare's beloved Soul Edge!!" He reaches out to touch it and jumps back in pain as screams go rattling through his head.

He stares it up and down. There was no way he was taking it out of there so he marked the area in his mind and ran out.

The next thing Orin knows is chanting in the distance, steadily growing louder and louder. And then he hears a booming voice echoing across the corridors.

"ATTENTION....LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. TODAY, WE PRESENT YOU WITH THE SOLDIERS OF THE WELLSPRING WAR!!! SOLDIERS WHO HAVE KNOWN NOTHING BUT PAIN AND DEATH FOR YEARS!!! WE BRING THEM TO YOU NOW, TO WATCH THEM FIGHT THE BEASTS THAT WE HAVE CAPTURED FROM AFAR!!!! LET THE GAMES....BEGIN!!!!!!!"

He realizes why the guard took those weapons. He races down the corridors, trying to make it to the colosseum. He knows several of the others are there, and he's going to have to help.

[flameslayer93]

Flying around the prison in guard's armor made it pretty simple for Larco to look the place over. It took him no time to study the actions of the guards so that he seemed to be one of them. The biggest problem was that the games had just began and his fellow jailbreakers were still down in there ready to fight and die.
"Hey I'm new and could you point me in the direction of the monster's pens?" Larco asked a nearby almost half asleep guard.
"Hmm, it's down the hall through the "D" stairway," the guard replied as he fell back in his seat. "Woah, that wasn't fun."
After he was out of the guards sight, Larco soon began to fly like a maniac to the pen.
"Those guards are the ones who have to release the beasts, so if I can kill them the rest of us can survive. I have heard of the beasts that enter the arena. I remember I saw a match once. The monster breathed fire and whenever the gladiators got too close, it's large hand would swat them into the ground. I'm glad I'm not down there." Larco mutters to himself now aware that there are guards around.
They look to be terrified of something. When Larco sees what it is, he know it. A foul 3-headed creature was chomping down guards left and right. It stunk badly too as though the rotted bodies were never digested from it's insides.
"The prisoners have to fight that? Oh boy I have my work cut out for me." Larco thinks to himself.

[dragonfire9788]

Sunlight hit Iain's face as he and his fellow prisoners were brought out into the sweltering heat. The arena had about three rows of stands with the front having about a ten foot drop into the arena. They might be able to scale the walls, but that would probably lead to instant retaliation from the guards. He noticed that there were a few of them guarding the stairs that lead down from the top level and into the stands.
These guards were different. They wore more armor and carried large automatic rifles. Escape from the arena wasn't the best idea. He was glad he had called Nightmare out on that aspect. He wondered how he was faring out in the prison. Nightmare wasn't exactly the stealthiest guy ever. It was a real pity. He would have been a genuine tool to Iain's plan.
Kneeling down in the sand of the arena, he picked up a Roman short sword. It was lighter than he thought, but heavier than it looked. He had seen the warriors of Einar use it with great skill. Iain was not very good with swords, but this one just looked like a larger knife, which he was more familiar with. All he would have to go off of would be the people he had seen use a sword before. He couldn't get into sword fight with a someone who had more experience. If he did, high-tailing it would be the best tactic. Surprise would be the best element. Surprise and good flexibility.
The gate's at the opposite side of the arena began to rise as prisoners wearing tunics with green dots on their chest cranked the winch on the other side of the gate. These were probably prisoners who had been here awhile. The guards used them to do things they didn't want to do. That showed Iain that those things that were coming out of the gate were something bad. Something that well-armed soldiers didn't want to come face to face with.
Twisting his head, Iain looked out at his allies. From the numbers, he saw that there were more people than just those of his cell block. He only saw familiar faces among one third of the prisoners, that probably meant that there were three cell blocks worth of prisoners. Numbers. He had numbers on his side. That was a good sign. Some had gotten a clue and had armed themselves with the arms given to them, but some remained ignorant and wandered around their side of the arena with a profound look of confusion upon their faces.
One of these was Kyntela Gwyn. She wasn't one that had been used to fighting with weapons. He hoped that prisoners like this were in short supply. He needed more people proficient in the given weapons. Why didn't all people join the army instead of going to college and obtaining liberal arts degrees?
A shirtless African American prisoner approached Iain from behind. He was smarter as he carried a rusty mace he had found on the ground. There were three long spikes coming from the business end of the mace. He wouldn't want to be on that side of the weapon.
"Hello, friend," His speech was slurred and in French. Luckily Iain spoke French. Thank God for WWII experience.
"Hello," He returned, turning only half of his attention to this new face. "My name is Iain Cross."
"I am Ni. I do not recognize you."
"Same here. You from a different cell block?"
"Solitary." That was good. That meant he had done something to get into solitary confinement. He could dish out pain and take it, as he hadn't collapsed from mental fatigue. "They want us to fight."
"I know." Iain turned away and looked at the gate, gesturing with the sword.
"You won't want that weapon," He said.
"I think I'll take what I'm given."
"You don't know what we're up against. I'm a survivor here. The favored prisoners are our enemies and they have a massive advantage against us."
Iain's interest was piqued. "How massive?"
Foot falls resounded throughout the arena and everything went quiet. The people in the stands gasped in their seats as the sound grew louder and louder. The gate had risen up to the highest it could go and the two prisoners with the green dots had disappeared.
A platoon of soldiers stepped from the gate and into the arena. They were armor. Steel armor. They carried large rectangular shields like the ones Iain had seen used by the Einarian soldiers. They all carried large spears and long swords tied to their belts. There were about twenty of them and they held tight formation around a woman wearing robes emblazoned with crescent moons. A wizard no doubt.
"That's a good advantage."
The other prisoner tapped Iain's shoulder and pointed at another gate, with red eyes staring out into the arena. So, a platoon of heavily armed prisoners and some unknown monster. He'd better go find a better weapon. Ni had been correct.

[Claws of Death]

Suddenly, a cry breaks out in the arena before the guards from within the castle show up in the stands. The people move aside from the way of the guards. In the grasp in them, his arms being held by 4 each, is none other than Nightmare. He had been tricked into the open when the guards had appeared to be transporting Soul Edge. However, it was actually a trap. The guards tackled him to the ground and, outnumbered, was captured and led to the arena.

"Get out there, dog," The guards snickered before pushing him out into the arena. All Nightmare had on him was the longsword he had stolen from the guard. He may have lost his blade, and the amulet weakened his normally terrifying strength, he had to settle with only incredible strength. He draws his blade and walks alongside Iain.

"It appears we are back side by side again, unfortunately.........."

He holds the sword in his normal hand, waiting for the horde to approach..........

[flameslayer93]

After the last gate opened, a monster with an armored kyrie rode in. The crowd were amazed at this unusual predicament. Kyrie generally don't need to be riding a land creature.
"To war my beast. Charge!!!" Larco began to yell. Not even the wizard's attempted fire stream could stop the three-headed beast from charging in and devouring 3 men at a time while Larco used a "borrowed" machine gun to shoot at the guards, half aiming at the guests too to drive them a away in a hurry.
"Iain, take this rifle I got from a friendly guard," Larco yelled as he winked. Throwing the rifle would be the easy part, keeping the beast on the enemies would be the hard part.
As the guard fired endless bullets at the beast and Larco, the guests ran screaming out of the arena knocking many down back into the pit.