UAC Expedition Results

[untilitisdone]

Who: The Slayer, and others
What: Some explorers bring back a big, omnious, stone sarcophagus
When: A day or two after the Walpurgisnacht Ball
Where: A secure chamber at Daybreak Academy
Warnings: Probably some violence

When a group of enterprising Outland explorers found a massive stone sarcophagus in a particularly desolate corner of the wasteland, they decided to take it. They did, but half of them died under furious daemon attacks. The survivors of the expedition described the attacks not so much as furious but as...desperate. Whatever was in the sarcophagus, it clearly was very important to these daemons that it not be set loose.

They brought their prize to Daybreak Academy, because in Earth's supernatural community, Daybreak is well known as a safe place to bring cursed shit you end up with.

-1-

The Sarcophagus now lies in a secure chamber, along with a few other artifacts: A stylized sword hilt, carved of stone. A suit of mastercraft plate mail. A double barreled shotgun, with some sort of grappling hook affixed under the barrels.

The Sarcophagus itself commands most onlooker's attention. Crudely crafted from stone, wrapped with bands of spell inscribed iron, and covered in runes of binding. The only part that isn't dedicated to keeping this thing shut is an inscription in the center of the lid, which reads as such, in the tongue of daemons:

Here lies the Slayer of Doom, The Hellwalker, The Beast who broke our armies. The terror within must never be freed. There he lies still, and evermore, in silent suffering.

-2-

If daemons don't like it, it must be something good, right? Eventually, someone decided to break it open. Inside is a man. It's impossible that someone could survive being entombed for centuries in solid stone, and he doesn't look terribly healthy at the moment, but he is undeniably alive, dressed in rags and in bad need of a shave and a shower.

He woke up almost immediately. After testing the chains that bound him, he looked around at his rescuers with a strange calm, but said nothing. In truth, he wasn't sure he could remember how to speak.

-3-

Should and daemons be among the people in the room when he is set loose, his calm immediately shatters. A horrible light entered his eyes as he struggled against the chains that bound him, with a strength that was causing the metal to warp before your eyes.

He was going to break free any second now, and from the murderous look he was giving, his plans for what to do NEXT were not a mystery.

Comments

1 (OTA) and 3 (Slayer)

[arcadianvampire]

[1]

Being a daemon himself, and rather, being an expert on many things daemonic, it made perfect sense to call on Professor Valvatorez's expertise when some new, doubtlessly cursed artifact got brought in. Val's eyes widened a bit upon seeing the sarcophagus, not immediately recognizing it for what it was, but rather, the sheer amount of power and warnings around it. He took a look around the artifacts brought in... the sword hilt, the armor. His eyebrow raised at the armor, a look of concern creeping onto the daemon's face. ...In a way few of his peers had probably ever seen.

"...D'Nurian work? It's impeccable..."

And then he arrived at the shotgun, and he stared at it intently, its fine design, and that dire looking hook affixed as an underbarrel attachment. He slowly glanced over to the sarcophagus and its many, many warnings written in many daemonic tongues, and then back to the shotgun.

"...The Diabolical Musket, the Bane of Lucifer?" He almost whispered to himself, in awe and disbelief. It couldn't be. And then he walked over to the coffin itself, and read the epitaph on it.

If it were possible for Valvatorez to look even paler than he normally did, this was it. A few beads of sweat formed on his brow, for even the King of Fear knew better than anyone what it felt like, and when to be cautious.

"...It can't be. Where the hell did they find this...?" He looked over to someone nearby, a little too close to the sarcophagus. "Do not open it! Not yet!"

Oh god, it was going to be a long day.

[3]

After his appraisal, Valvatorez had left the room to compose himself. That was not something he ever expected to see; and on more levels than not, he was actually happy the mythical Slayer had been found. It meant humanity had another powerful ally against the Nightfall; assuming, of course, that he could still see reason. But stories of the Slayer had not escaped him, and over the past thirty or so Earth years, he'd been constantly hearing rumors about him. That daemonic legions fell in droves to one man, who was nothing short of a fear-causing mythical figure throughout the Outlands. He hadn't doubted the Slayer had existed, but... to actually know he was here... well. That was another thing entirely.

Eventually, he came back into the room to continue studying the artifacts, only to see the top lid of the sarcophagus on the floor, and he looked in horror as the man inside looked directly at him. A horrible stare that pierced to the very core of his vile, dark soul.

"...Why did you open it and not tell me?! I didn't want to be within a hundred miles of here when this came to pass!"

...For the first time in centuries, Valvatorez got the urge to just. Run.

"Right! Call me with how this turns out. I'm cashing in my vacation days, like right now! I'm out!"

And he turned on his foot and quickly dashed out the door, hoping the Slayer wouldn't break free, and that someone, anyone, might be able to calm that infernal rage in his eyes.

3

[untilitisdone]

The last chain snapped. One might expect someone who had been imprisoned for as long as him to need a moment to build up momentum, but he did not. He exploded out of his prison and made straight for his pile of gear lying off to the side. The Praetor suit could wait. By the time he had it on the daemon would be gone. It was spooked. He grabbed the sword and the shotgun as he ran by.

As Valvatorez fled the room, a hook jammed into the wall by his head, followed by high speed clinking of a chain being retracted as the Slayer flew across the room, dragged by the grappling hook on his gun. It didn't have any ammo in it, so his fists would have to do for now.

There were always more daemons to kill. His crusade was eternal.

[spelleton]

Ekkehardt is, surprisingly, not involved in the excavation and examination of the Mystery Sarcophagus, though from what he's heard he's probably going to have to get involved eventually, at least on the health checkup side.

Then Valvatorez runs past him and there's the sound of property damage, and Ekkehardt pinches his mask where a nose would be, if he still had one underneath his glamour, and sighs. He evaluates the situation at a glance and, rather than waste his bandages on trying to tangle the man up, he yanks him back with a chain reaction of pull spells to stop him from beating one of the coworkers he actually likes to death.

"I don't know what you got taught in the Outlands," he grinds out, concentrating on maintaining his spells to keep yanking the man back, "but this is a school and you're going to have to learn some manners, like not killing people on sight, thank you."

[untilitisdone]

Binding magic looped around him, but compared to the multiple layers of spells he'd been under in the prison, this was nothing. He strained against Ekkehardt's magic and, through sheer physical strength, took a step after the fleeing daemon. And then another.

He wasn't making GOOD time, and Valvatorez wouldn't have any trouble escaping at this rate, but he wasn't stopping either.

[spelleton]

Warriors. They're all the same, and this one seems like no exception to the 'doesn't know when to stop' rule. He doesn't try to fire off another layer - regardless of how the man feels about his own body, it's probably been under tremendous strain and he can't do that to a potential patient - but he does keep reapplying the spell.

"You need medical attention and bed rest and I am not letting you go-" and here he readjusts his position with a hiss of effort, "-and beat someone to death with your bare hands in front of children, so you can either keep wasting your time and mine or you can stop for once in your life."

[untilitisdone]

At full strength, the Slayer was sure he would be able to deal with this little well dressed magician. But unfortunately, he was right. A quick binding spell like this had him all but locked down.

He took another step, to prove that he could, because "Warriors, they're all the same" was actually a pretty accurate criticism at the moment, but the fact was he needed time to recover from his long imprisonment.

The daemon wasn't going anywhere he couldn't track it down, later. The Slayer would allow this to stand. For now.

[spelleton]

He keeps the spell active a moment longer while he makes certain the man isn't going to charge off the moment he lets him go, and then finally relaxes. What he'll get up to once he has recovered is something he'll have to save for later.

"Good. Thank you." He rubs the back of his neck, a habit he's never completely gotten rid of. "I'll need to assess your condition, but I won't do anything invasive without your permission. Are you capable of articulating any boundaries you might have through speech, or do I need to get you something else to communicate with?" The man hasn't talked this whole time, so it's entirely possible he's incapable or unwilling.

[untilitisdone]

He grunted, then managed to grumble, in a raspy voice, "Bad at words. But. Can talk."

His fists clenched again. "Why protect it?"

The Slayer needed to understand his situation. Was this some new kind of daemon that didn't need to be killed? Was he in a corrupted city like Argent D'Nur that he needed to escape? How dangerous were his captors?

[spelleton]

Well, he's willing to listen. That's something.

"Well, first of all, he's reformed, so the only killing he's doing is against people who are trying to cause the apocalypse. Secondly, you're in a school, for children, and murdering people on school grounds is discouraged, to say the least. Thirdly..."

He thinks about what he should say next, assessing the man's current condition. Bound up and sealed away by daemons, probably with a great deal of combat trauma...

"...you are no longer in a hostile environment. While your skills will certainly be needed, this isn't a place where you'll need to constantly defend yourself. You're free to roam as you wish, though I'd ask that you limit yourself for the first week or so, so it's easy to monitor your condition."

[untilitisdone]

He stared at Ekkehardt for several more seconds with that piercing glare of his, processing this.

Without saying anything else, he turned away and continued down the hallway towards the rest of campus. He didn't have any LESS tension about him, but it was a different KIND of tension, now. The tension of someone who is always expecting to be attacked, but not the tension of someone who is planning to go and cause some mayhem just this instant.

A reformed daemon. What a ridiculous concept. He'd pretend to play nice for now, but the moment it showed it's true colors, he'd be ready to deal with it the same way he had dealt with all the others.

For now, he wanted to see where he was.

[hatesdragons]

As a naturally curious scientist, Emille has been interested in the sarcophagus since its arrival at Daybreak. When it is finally opened she is surprised to see a living man inside, but what really catches her attention is how the man reacts upon seeing Professor Valvatorez. That's when the murmuring reaches her ears: this man is a daemon slayer. As her eternal nemeses are a breed of daemon, she could find a great use ally in this man.

Hence why, a few minutes after all the commotion dies down and Slayer is all alone, a four-foot-tall woman follows him down the hallway. He may have to look down and around for the source of the voice that suddenly speaks to him: "It seems that you hate daemons. I do as well." Which is not the entire truth -- non-Dragon daemons who are willing to work against the coming of Nightfall are perfectly fine to her -- but she decides it's best to start slow and simple with this stranger.

[untilitisdone]

Hypervigilance resulting from years of danger left him fully aware that someone was following him. He was content to ignore her beyond keeping track of where she was until she opened her mouth. When she did, the Slayer turned around to actually size her up.

She said she hated daemons. That was good, a point of common interest. But anyone who OPENED with that usually had an ulterior motive. He paused, looking down at her and waiting for her to continue. Maybe it would be worth listening to.

[hatesdragons]

Though small, Emille remains fierce and unafraid as she looks up to Slayer. She considers a handful of questions to ask him, but she decides more on appealing to his base instincts for the time being. This may be the only chance she gets to speak with him, after all.

"My hatred burns the brightest towards the daemons known as the Dragons. They are extremely powerful creatures that subsist on consuming those weaker than they. They destroyed my future in the span of a few hours, and now they all deserve to die." By now, she has a bit of a growl to her voice. "I merely wish to urge you to slaughter any Dragons you come across in your struggles. You will know the daemons you are facing are Dragons if they are surrounded by poisonous orange flowers. Beware their pollen, as it causes a crippling illness if you let it get into your system. Otherwise, show them no mercy."

She continues to stand there, unflinching, hoping to see him react favorably to her request.

1

[stavros]

As was probably expected, Kokoro was wide-eyed in the crowd, one hand on her bag because she was just Like That.

"Wait, is that... I thought he might be real, but here? I've heard about him!"

[arcadianvampire]

Valvatorez looked over the coffin some more, careful not even to put his hands on it. He didn't want to risk tripping anything.

"...I have little doubt that it's him. The Hellwalker, sealed away and still." He turned to Kokoro, after sparing one final look at the suit of armor standing upright nearby. "So you've heard stories about him. What have you heard, Kokoro?"

[stavros]

"Not much," she admitted. "That he's very scary, very single-minded, but he's more powerful than most any human. A man clinging to life with hate, but truly dedicated to slaying all evil. ...is that a 'keep out' sign?"

[arcadianvampire]

"All of that is true, based on stories and reports I've heard in the Outlands. I briefly looked into it when I heard stories of a human felling a Titan Daemon on the Umbral Plains." The daemon shifted uncomfortably, relating the story with a mix of apprehension and yet, brutal honesty. "Titan Daemons are... well. For lack of a better word, badass. Sure enough, there was a dead Titan there, and carved lamentations depicting its loss at the hands of The Slayer."

He cast a glance back over to the coffin, eyes narrowing.

"If everything I've seen is true... he's slaughtered countless of the most vile, evil, and terrible Daemons the Outlands has to offer. Single-minded and scary barely cover it."

Still, as serious and almost reverent as he sounded in recounting the tales, he nodded, his tone becoming a little... lighter.

"Yes, it is. ...Not sure where the daemons who imprisoned him found it, though."

[stavros]

She scratched her head. "What are we going to do now? I'm sure we can't just leave him that way."

[arcadianvampire]

"Nor should we," he agreed, albeit a touch of reluctance in his tone. It was hard to miss, given Valvatorez's normally fully confident tone.

"This man, if he even still is one anymore, may be one of the most powerful allies humankind can hope for."

He moved away from the coffin, putting space between it and himself, and moving away from the other relics unearthed with him.

"And yet, I cannot shake a bad feeling about releasing him. I think we must, but..."

The calculus wasn't hard to figure out: he's a daemon, and inside the box is an unstoppable daemon killer.

[stavros]

She nods, a little hollow. Ruadh was one thing, but someone like this...

"I have faith in the school and its people. Yet I would not speak against you in this manner, particularly as you're the one who knows better. We shall see what or who he truly is past the stories."

[arcadianvampire]

"Indeed we shall. But I think it would be for the best if I was nowhere near him when he woke up. No telling how he'd react to a daemon being in his presence when he finally arises from containment."

And this statement was born not out of fear for himself, but actual thoughtful deliberation. ...And common sense, really. With that, the vampire walked over toward the green armor on display, and looked it over once more.

"...Nevertheless, this individual seems fascinating. I've heard he was human, but he seems to have armor styled after the Sentinels of Argent D'Nur. A warrior race from deep in the Outlands. They are notoriously insular and secretive; I do not know much about them, but they're feared among many daemons. I wonder how he came about possessing it. Perhaps he could shed some light on it.

...But I probably shouldn't be the one asking him questions."

[stavros]

"They stored him with his gun, too. Perhaps they were afraid of it, as they were of him?" She looks it all over. "And if the armour looks that well-made, it must be genuine, however that came to be. ...Though I must say he probably wouldn't be happy to be an academic curiosity."

[arcadianvampire]

"I have little doubt of it. Daemonic texts about The Slayer referred to it as Lucifer's Bane, or the Diabolical Musket, and many more accursed names not fit for conversation. ...Some of them don't even translate into Earth language, and I'd be loathe to say them even if they did."

Daemons from Hell had a lot of colorful ways to curse, as it happened.

"Probably not. The good thing is, I don't believe the Academy has any intention of keeping him or his equipment as some kind of relic. Better that they be wielded by their rightful owner on the field of battle."

[stavros]

Nod. "My apologies for all the questions. Surely they ought to be saved for the man himself, but we know not what condition he's in. I hope it's all right."

[arcadianvampire]

"Honestly, it's quite all right. I am still a teacher, and that's why I was asked to be here today. Answering questions is not only part of my job, it's something I quite enjoy doing."

Even if it's about something as macabre and unnerving as... well, this whole thing.

"Indeed. Not only do we have no knowledge of his condition, we have no knowledge of what sort of person he may be either. He may not be the sort who likes answering questions, for all we know. Perhaps against my better judgement, I also hope he as well as he can be.

...I must confess, it feels strange, feeling this sort of anxiety. It's been quite some time since I've felt uncomfortable like this." He mused on it a little, strangely comfortable in discussing it with Kokoro, of all people. "I still sometimes think of myself as the King of Fear, but that doesn't mean I am immune to it either. It's a good, humbling reminder that no one is above fear, even if there were scant few things I've ever been afraid of."