Virtual Conquest Drome 2: Monster Asylum

[Lordxana0]

Created by: Lordxana0

Here stay the nightmares of ages gone by, locked in a prison of human design. Trapped here forever to guard the world from their fury. Or they were at least. now they are free, wandering the Asylum without rest looking for their targets. And their targets happen to be you and your enemy. Survive the monsters and your assailant, if you can do this than you have proved yourself worthy to carry your character to the next battle. The Asylum looks like you would imagine a madhouse the size of a prison to look like, with various rooms full of equipment that is suppose to...’help’ with various therapies. Trap your enemy in the electric shock room and hit the switch at full power, or trap them in a room of screams ghosts who died of starvation. Can your sanity survive the nightmare?

Current Champion:
Current Battle: Narra vs. Mimsy

[Lordxana0]

Well folks we have an exciting match for you today. Narra vs. Mimsy in a battle of capture the flag. Who will fall? Who will Rise? The Wheel of Fate is turning friends, so lets see some BLOODSHED~!

[AMimsyBorogove]

Footsteps echoed through the silent halls of the asylum as the masked magus eyed the area around him, his dark eyes settling on a tattered banner of the same hue as his cloak, situation upon a podium that formed the centerpiece of the crumbling room he was in. The light of the scarlet full moon shone gloomily down through a hole in the ceiling, painting this standard with its eerie light, and bringing into sharp relief that cadre of guardians surrounding it. A dragon, its red scales reflecting the equally blood-tinted light of the moon, coiled itself around the pedestal, smoke rolling slowly from its nostrils as it bowed its head in submission to its new master. Schelt patted the beast on the nose, turning to face the five other occupants of the room. The first to meet his gaze were a pair of lordly Vampires, their pale bodies clad in regal garments of royal purple, shining gold, and bloody crimson, and each armed with both a small, ornate buckler shield and a long, cross-shaped spear, and both of whom knelt before the magician. He smiled upon his new minions, and then swept down his hand wordlessly. The twin vampires nodded silently, and dissipated in a cloud of smoke.

Schelt turned toward the room's only door, and made his way out into a long, ruined corridor, lined with the cells of long deceased inmates, their skeletons the only memorial to their deaths. As he stepped out, three dark shadows rose up to follow him. A giant, humanoid wolf, covered entirely in jet black fur padded along on each side, their eyes bloodshot and their noses turned up to the air. The third figure brought up the rear: a pathetic, humanoid form marked by protruding bones and a generally pitiful appearance. Schelt hadn't much use for this third underling save as a meat shield, but at the very least, he might prove an apt distraction whilst the mage dealt with his goals.

It was rather odd, Schelt mused contentedly as he made his way down the corridor. Normally, a talentless magician like him, capable only of one simple trick, would never have been able to support so many familiars at once, let alone to control them so flawlessly to his will. Whatever magic it was that fueled this place, it certainly was potent.

The strategy he would employ was quite simple. The Vampires and his Dragon - his star players - would remain behind at his flag, the Vampires remaining in their mist forms several hundred feet above the room, only descending and returning to their physical forms just long enough for one of them to heal the dragon should it become injured, while the other would stay out of range and heal the first vampire should it, in turn, be attacked. Thusly, neither of his healers could be targeted by the enemy for any significant range of time, and even if a hit was landed on one of them, the other could restore it with impunity. Meanwhile, the dragon could easily incinerate any enemy who entered the room long before they could get close enough to reach the flag, forcing them to take out the dragon before they would have a chance of taking the flag. And, with the dragon constantly regenerating thanks to the vampires, that would prove close to impossible.

Schelt himself, meanwhile, having no reason to fear dying, could thus move with impunity, taking a fast-moving squadron of quick and deadly units directly to the enemy base. Using the wolves' keen senses to discern the locations of the enemy guardians, he could then use his shielding powers to keep them from sustaining any damage while they methodically tore apart whatever resistance they met. The remaining unit, the feeble Igor, would serve as support until such time as it died, at which point one or the other of the wolves could consume it to grow stronger. If either wolf died, he could always have the remaining beast do the same. But it hardly mattered. Even if all three of his remaining troops died, they were only meant to provide a distraction whilst slaying as many enemies as possible. That would buy him time to fully incant his aria, at which point he'd be able to tear through the enemy's defenses like paper.

Schelt smiled. Overall, he was very happy with this strategy. It had no glaring flaws, and played to his strengths quite well. Now all that was left to be done was to see what move his opponent would make.

"Let the games begin," The magus said, smirking beneath his mask as his voice began to resound, echoing up and down the corridor, and into the night beyond. Extending his gloved hand as he chanted, he opened his, taking hold of the sturdy wood of a long staff adorned with a metal head in the shape of a maple leaf.

"I am the boundary of the Eternal World..."

With those words, the game had officially begun...

[narrativedilettante]

Snowflake's base was surprisingly large. She wondered if it had been a meeting room, or a dormitory with room for multiple beds. It was impossible to say, now. All furniture was gone, and any markings on the walls that might help to determine what purpose the room had served were now impossible to make out, probably even in strong light, but definitely in the dim illumination that now graced the decrepit building.

Her minions were evenly spaced, set around her flag. Four vampires stood in each of the cardinal directions, with two werewolves filling each of the gaps between them. They wouldn't stay in place for the duration of the contest, but Snowflake wanted to be able to move freely at first, and having a werewolf guard would only slow her down. They were hampered by obstacles and couldn't fit through small gaps or move on the z-axis as freely as their mistress.

Until Snowflake located her opponent's base, she intended to keep herself as mobile as possible and explore as much of the asylum as she could as quickly as she could. She would be vulnerable, but as long as her flag remained intact and she could respawn, that wasn't much of a concern.

Once she located the other flag, she'd be able to see whether she could sneak in and get it out on her own, or whether she'd need to return with an entourage.

A scream sounded from down a darkened and apparently deserted corridor. A ghost? A wild monster, loose and rampaging through what was once its prison? Something less expected and more terrifying? Snowflake brandished her rapier, more for reassurance than practicality. She hoped the enemy base would be easy to find.

[AMimsyBorogove]

Schelt advanced slowly down the empty hall, listening closely to the echoing cries of monsters in the distance. Whether those sounds came from his opponent's familiars, or from similar, but unmastered beasts lurking within the ruins, the magus could not have said for sure. However, inexperienced though he was, he did have one means of discerning the direction in which his enemy's base lay. Channeling power through his eye, he scanned the asylum, searching for prominent sources of magical energy. Given that each flag served as an anchor for its owner's soul, and constructs of that sort were his own specialty, it did not take him long to locate a massive nexus of arcane power, befitting an object with such an overwhelming nature. Directing his minions in the proper way, he released the enchantment on his eye, and, blinking back a momentary fog across his vision, began to move along with them straight for the enemy base. He made no pretense of concealing his presence, since drawing out the enemy was, in a way, what he wanted, as doing so would give him a chance to eliminate some of the opponent's familiars, if not all of them, making his job much easier.

His staff echoed dully with each step he took as it struck the stone floor, sending an empty thud reverberating up and down the corridor. The magus was getting close to the enemy now. No doubt, they had already noticed his presence. It was only a matter of time until the inevitable engagement...

[narrativedilettante]

Snowflake flitted down the corridor, around a corner, and up a dilapidated stairwell. Her base proved to be near one end of the building, so it fit to reason that she would find her opponent's base by going toward the other end.

Though the sounds of resident monsters were evident, Snowflake didn't yet see any. Perhaps they preferred to stay out of view. The noises were chaotic, disordered. A snarl and responding whimper here, a yelp there, a quick shuffling out of the way as she passed this door. Maybe these creatures were as frightened as they were frightening.

Ahead, she heard quieter sounds, though their nature was different enough from the other ambient noises that they caught her attention. A group moved towards her, just a room or two ahead. They moved more steadily than the other creatures in this asylum.

Snowflake must have found her opponent.

Based on the direction they were traveling, she could extrapolate backwards and narrow her search for the enemy base. If they noticed her now, well, in a direct confrontation she couldn't expect to survive. From the sounds, it was clear her opponent had brought an entourage. There was a chance, though, that she could slip past unnoticed. She stuck close to the ceiling and kept the flapping of her wings as quiet as she could, hoping that her opponent wouldn't think to keep an eye pointing up.

[AMimsyBorogove]

The Fairy's plan was a solid one. Under normal circumstances, such a creature would easily be able to escape notice in the darkness of the hall, especially considering the magus' single-minded movement in the direction of the fairy's base. However, Schelt had predicted that his enemy might employ stealth, and had already made preparations to counter such an attempt. Before the fairy even reached the small group, the two werewolves, their keen noses raised to the air, had already sniffed out her presence long before she reached them. Giving a warning howl, the two beasts began to search the hallway frantically, trying to identify the scent they had detected. This, in turn, tipped off Schelt, who, without delay, once again enhanced his eye, scanning the hallway for motion. The fluttering of the fairy's tiny wings was more than fast enough to immediately catch his attention.

Smirking, he pointed his staff straight towards the fairy, mentally commanding the most useless of his three familiars to make its move. The Igor was all too happy to oblige, giving a wild shriek as it leaped into the air, its bony hands flailing about as it tried to catch the tiny enemy. At the same moment, Schelt de-activated his vision enhancement, and began to concentrate power quickly through his staff, creating a barrier without warning directly behind the fairy, projecting its force precisely in a single direction: straight towards his own oncoming familiar. Hopefully, this would take the fairy by surprise, abruptly pushing it with pseudo-telekinesis right into the grasp of his own ally. And, so long as the Igor didn't kill the small creature immediately, the enemy couldn't respawn - and would thus be powerless to stop him: all according to his plan.

[narrativedilettante]

Retreat, though not ideal, seemed the only option. It was clear as soon as the opponent came into view that Snowflake had been detected. Seeing an Igor jumping toward her, hands outstretched, she immediately sped backwards.

Or at least, she tried to. Something, something invisible and intangible, pushed her forward, into the creature's grasp.

Despite the clumsy, large hands holding her, Snowflake was not crushed. Her opponent was smart enough to realize that death would not be as significant of a setback as imprisonment. She turned her mind to escape. Either the monster would have to loosen its grip, or tighten it enough to send Snowflake back to her own base.

Snowflake pulled an arm free, brandishing her rapier, and dug it into one of the fingers that held her fast. The sudden pain might just cause the Igor's grip to tighten, but if not, then the poison would eventually do its work, and perhaps its fingers would relax enough that she could wriggle free.

[AMimsyBorogove]

The fairy's plan was solid. The creature was weak and clumsy enough that its grasp would be easily broken by a momentary surge of pain, and, although its skeletal hands would do little to convey poison to the rest of its body, that didn't matter so long as the fairy freed herself. Consequently, as the Igor howled angrily and waved its wounded hand about, the fairy would find herself able to slip from its grasp. However, there was a factor she hadn't considered. Schelt was an amateur, very unskilled at directly controlling Familiars to obey his orders. Even with the assistance of the drome in giving him complete control of the creatures he'd chosen to summon, he still was having a hard time keeping his minions doing exactly what he wanted them to. The rage and pain the Igor now felt was enough to momentarily overcome that fragile tether, and so the beast moved solely on its own instincts, leaping wildly once again, this time aiming to kill.

Schelt sighed. It seemed this one wouldn't be much use save as fodder. Still, he'd at least let it finish trying to kill his small, fragile opponent before he simply commanded his wolves to devour it so as to use what little strength it possessed for a more useful purpose. Ordering his two bodyguards, who were much more obeisant than the skeletal creature with which he'd made his first move, to move in from the sides, he aimed to finish his opponent off before she could make it to his base and get a good view of what his defenses were. Although he was confident in the dragon and the vampires' ability to hold her off, it would be better to keep her on the defensive for now rather than risk her finding a way around his defenses. Although, now that he thought about it, how was it that she intended to even capture his flag? It was several times the size of her body, making carrying it impossible unless she had a minion do the work for her, or had some sort of trick up her sleeve. Telekinesis, maybe? He didn't know, but immediately resolved himself nonetheless to eliminate all of her familiars, if possible. Should he do that, she'd lose her most likely chance of winning.

The wolves, heeding their master's orders, darted out to either side, rushing along the edges of the corridor to swiftly encircle the fleeing fairy, then leaping inward just as the Igor lunged from the front. Schelt merely stood back, smiling calmly beneath his facemask.

"I suppose it's rude not to introduce myself before I kill you," He said quietly. "Schelt Mythriven, magus. I'll be your opponent."

[narrativedilettante]

Freedom! But only brief-lived. Flying directly away from the monster that had held her, or to either side, was made impractical by the advancing werewolves. Snowflake settled for getting up as high as she could, but the ceiling was still within reach of the creatures, and the Igor had recovered from the shock of pain and was reaching towards her. She searched for a crack in the ceiling, a vent or a hole that she could use for escape, but there was nothing within her reach.

Her opponent, with the arrogance that comes with the luxury of the upper hand, introduced himself. Snowflake did not spare him many glances, keeping most of her attention focused on the creatures converging around her.

With a slight nod, she said, "Snowflake," responding to the introduction but sparing no more attention to it than was absolutely necessary.

And then she prepared to satisfy her curiosity about what it would be like to experience a temporary sort of death.

[AMimsyBorogove]

Within a few moments the enemy combatant had been struck from three sides. Schelt gazed up at the fairy as it shattered into dust, much like a breaking pane of glass swept away on a mighty wind. It mattered not. The enemy would return in moments, and now, she would have the chance to bring her own minions to bear. He needed to get as close to her base as possible before then. Nodding to his familiars, he resumed his previous formation, the lightly wounded Igor bringing up the lead - useless though it was, it could still serve as a means of locating enemy traps up ahead, which meant Schelt would allow it to live a little longer - while his two werewolf bodyguards stood on either side of him, ready to deal with any threats that might have sought to ambush him from behind or the sides.

In any case, now was the most critical part of his plan. If he fell here, his minions, too, would surely be wiped out, making the task of taking the enemy's flag much, much more difficult. That meant he would have to start getting serious, or else run the risk of losing himself and his familiars.

And so, with his followers in tow, he set off hastily down the corridor, now using the wolves' keen noses instead of wasting one of his charms on enhancing his own eyes. He would arrive at the enemy base soon enough. The only question was what would be waiting for him there.

"My eyes gaze upon the heavens," He recited, his voice resounding up and down the hallway as the footsteps of himself and his companions echoed along the passageway. The enemy would be returning soon, but Schelt, amateur magus though he was, felt confident that he was more than ready for whatever this Snowflake might have been able to throw at him.

[narrativedilettante]

The feeling was... strange. Snowflake's skin tingled; her vision faded into being, blurry shapes and vague colors slowly gaining definition; the sounds that met her ears were at first unintelligible, but resolved into the shuffling of her minions and the distant shrieks of loose monsters.

She wondered if death always felt like it had, or if a true death would be a notably different experience. But there was no time for that. Her enemy, the magus named Schelt, was approaching. She would have to meet him before he reached this room.

Summoning four of the werewolves and one of the vampires to assemble around her, snowflake burst out the door. Schelt was not yet visible, which gave her time to anticipate his attack. She chose a section of hallway with a collapsed stairwell, where she could place herself out of harm's way while still directing the battle. She could not afford to fall while her minions were engaged in the fight. The werewolves formed a diamond, ready to face the attacking force with the advantage of superior numbers. The vampire remained behind, where it would be less vulnerable but be close enough to provide quick healing.

In position, Snowflake waited for the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

[AMimsyBorogove]

The werewolves smelled the enemy long before any of the party saw them. One of them gave a low growl, while the other nudged its master in a gesture of warning. The magus nodded, using the increased strength of his connection to his magic to momentarily reinforce his eye, a faint gleam of purple light emerging from beneath his mask as he surveyed the corridor before him. It seemed to widen, far in the distance, and in that place, he could sense... three... no, it was four enemy minions. And, of course, the enemy herself, the tiny, clever commander behind the force that awaited him.

Stopping for a moment, Schelt went over what he knew. With so many of her minions assembled to stop him, it was doubtful that she had many remaining to protect her flag. That meant that if he could push through here, now would be his best chance to claim it. Still, he couldn't easily risk losing his vanguard in a head on assault. He could recover if he died. They could not.

Considering that at least a few of his enemies would be werewolves, giving them extra fodder in the form of his useless Igor would only undermine his goals. Nodding to the wolves, he spoke quietly.

"Devour that creature, and then come after me. I will take the lead."

The familiar in question gave a cry of surprise and fright - one that was quickly silenced as his wolves pounced upon it, tearing out its throat. It had outlived its usefulness to him, which meant that it would only serve a purpose by increasing the power of his more important henchmen.

Leaving the sounds of tearing flesh and gnashing teeth behind him, the magus strode calmly down the hallway, his leaf-headed staff clicking against the ground as he walked, and his voice echoing off the walls as he came into view, as though challenging his enemies to come and face him.

"...While my hands struggle against the earth."

[narrativedilettante]

Schelt came into view first, his wolves behind him. The Igor that had crushed Snowflake was nowhere in sight. They must have consumed him, Snowflake realized. That was... problematic.

Snowflake's werewolves outnumbered Schelt's, but they were not bolstered by the strength of a recent meal. She spent a moment, before contact was inevitable, adjusting her strategy to incorporate this new information.

Schelt was nearest. It only made sense to attack him first; if her werewolves stormed past he'd have an opportunity to get them as they ran forward. The head werewolf would meet the opponent head-on.

This left three, an unfortunately odd number. Snowflake directed the rearmost werewolf to join its companion on the left, giving them an advantage when they took on one werewolf between them. Invigorated by meat or not, Snowflake felt confident that if she was careful, two of her werewolves could take one down.

The remaining werewolf on her side would be outmatched, but hopefully her vampire could keep it from dying until the other two had taken care of their task and could rejoin it.

Snowflake's lead werewolf waited until it could lock eyes with Schelt, then lunged forward, and the battle began.

[AMimsyBorogove]

Schelt stood his ground, returning the gaze of the beast with emerald eyes narrowed beneath his concealing facemask. His right eye flashed momentarily with a purple light as he activated his Vision, its pupil morphing into an arcane glyph as he analyzed the enemy down to the very last detail. The werewolves were four in number, with two moving in from his right, and a third circling around from the left, while the foremost creature moved to engage him. He wasn't sure what his adversary's plan was, but he could venture a guess. Either she was trying to encircle him and eliminate him quickly with all of her minions, or she was aiming to keep him busy while her own forces, which outnumbered his wolves, could eliminate his vanguard. Well, in either case, the solution was obvious. His magic excelled in a supportive capacity, but he was more than capable of using certain tricks to get the best of his foes.

The werewolf tensed ever so slightly - a motion normally imperceptible to the Human eye. It was going to pounce at him. But Schelt had been prepared for this, having activated his eye's ability in advance, and using the time that the creature hesitated to reinforce his muscle structure. It was for this purpose that he had recited the third line of his aria prior to coming into view. Now, with his physical abilities boosted both by his aria and his powers, his vision optimized so that he could react quickly enough to counter the creature's attack, and his favored weapon, the Mirror Tower Staff, already in his hand, he was more that prepared to deal with the threat.

The black creature lunged, its speed overwhelming, even to his greatly enhanced perceptions. As he thought, even with his boosted speed and agility, he couldn't have hoped to outrun this creature, making evasion impossible. But Schelt, the barrier-magus, didn't have to dodge. No, it was better that he didn't.

The moment he had seen the beast begin bracing itself to attack, Schelt had lowered his staff like a lance, taking it with both hands and lunging forward, the dull metal head plunging towards the incoming creature even as a faint gold light took shape at the very center tip of the leaf-shaped head. The barrier was circular in shape, and barely three centimeters across. But he didn't need a large shield. His staff gave him a much longer reach than the creature's clawed arm, and with all of the power of a full size barrier compressed into such a small area, it would be all the more effective at serving its purpose.

The staff he had chosen to wield was the Mirror Tower Staff: a weapon which reversed both physical force and magical power when barriers channeled through it came into contact with them. And the wolf, with its blinding speed, was coming on with the force of a freight train. At that velocity, changing its course would be problematic to say the least, especially considering the miniscule distance between them, and the length of Schelt's weapon. Most likely, the creature would run itself right into the magus' fully extended staff before it even realized he had counterattacked, and then, its own momentum would be reversed, concentrated upon a single location, and released into its body with more than enough force to rip a large, gory hole in its torso. Even if it managed to slow itself to the point at which the impact wouldn't be lethal to it, Schelt was confident that the creature would still collide with his shield, and be knocked backward, its attack negated. That bought him time to leap backward, landing between his familiars and preparing to take up the defensive, minimizing the chance that his vanguard might be wounded or incapacitated so early on. In any case, even if it had meant revealing his powers to the enemy, Schelt had hopefully managed to even the odds - a tradeoff he was more than comfortable with.