sa-hareth | arrival (mingle log)

[groundrules]

WHO: Everyone ever + the local Sa-hareth squad.
WHEN: Arc I: Sa-Hareth arrival.
WHERE: Sa-Hareth citadel, salt mine, the old jailhouse,
WHAT: Our intrepid heroes get commandeered into the frosty unknown.
WARNINGS: the glorious undead, background House of Dew mentions, at least one person's terrible sense of humour.

Comments

[jeoha]

“This place will be a death pit, even after we are gone,” he replied grimly, looking in the direction that Mingyu has indicated and slowly edging that way.

“Those that don’t escape will take the punishment for us. And everyone we free becomes another sword at our side.”

He sidled up to the door, spinning the bar a couple more times to ensure he knew it’s weight, before pressing himself to the stone.

“Besides,” he continued with a wry, dry tone, just above a hushed whisper. “We’re the sorry bastards. May as well collect a few more.”

Before Mingyu could reply, Lee Chang raises a hand to indicate silence, and then murmured, “Wait twenty seconds, then follow,” before he darted through the door. Immediately there were cries of Please! Please help us! and the unearthly guttural cry of one of the undead guards.

Lee Chang didn’t hesitate. He ran right up to the creature and with one smooth strike buried the hook of his rusted bar into it’s skull, pushing the creature down to the floor with his momentum, then wrenched the thing backwards with a horrific cracking noise as he took half the head off with it.

[descendency]

Another point for 'big, stupid heroic gesture'. Mingyu sighed in defeat, then nodded.

"We are in fact. Don't know about you, but I'd find if fair enough if someone found me in a cell and decided to let me rot," he pointed out. And then Lee Chang was onto the next thing, awful wet squelching noises and the crack of bones reaching Mingyu's ears as he strolled leisurely after the other man rather than stand around counting.

Wrinkling his nose, he stepped delicately over some fleshy mound that was probably part of the guard's skull, still oozing ichor.

"Disgusting," he commented mildly.

[jeoha]

This isn't even on the scale for heoric gestures, Mingyu. There isn't even a lake involved. This is just Tuesday.

He stood up, checking down the hall again before shaking the bits of rotting brains and skull off his hook. "You unfortunately grow used to it," he said grimly. He kicked the thing over by it's shoulder. The face was destroyed (woops) but it was still very obvious.

"Infected. Using infected as guards." It wasn't completely unheard of to him. Not anymore. Not when he knew what had happened during the invasion. But still, being able to control them so well--

"There must be something different about the plague, here." He crouched down, quickly pawing through rotted fabric, and finally found a rusted old set of keys. In the cell near him, the voices were getting more desperate. Please! Let us out! Don't leave us here!

"The infected back home could not be trained like this."

[descendency]

No, no. Mingyu was simply scoring the likelihood of Lee Chang being the big heroic gesture type. Things didn't look good for Lee Chang here, honestly. All evidence pointed to being exactly that kind of sucker.

Mingyu himself let Lee Chang fuss with his self-declared mission, trying not to step in anything gross and keeping an eye out for any approaching guards.

"It might not be the same plague," he offered conversationally, giving a shrug. He'd seen enough zombie movies to know they came in all types.

[jeoha]

"It may not. But the symptoms read the same. And how many plagues can carry these symptoms? How many diseases raise the dead?"

He stood back up, brushing off his hands, looking back towards the dimly lit cells, squinting in the low light before he tossed the keys in their direction.

"Free the rest, then make haste," he instructed them, before turning to Mingyu and nodding at him to follow before he started jogging back towards the mythical kitchens.

He wasn't sure what made him turn his head as the metal of the opened door screeched behind them. Wasn't sure why he had to look back, just before they turned out of sight. Perhaps it was fate, warning him, or perhaps he had simply wanted to assure himself of a completed deed. But as he turned, he watched them pour out of the darkened cells into the flickering light of the hall, saw them fall like a savage mass upon the body of the guard he had slain. Saw the bright tattoos inking up their arms like a sleeve.

The blood drained from his face, his footsteps stuttering to a halt as the shock drew him up short.

"No--"

[descendency]

Mingyu noticed their mistake in the same moment but was not carrying the same recent traumas as Lee Chang so he did not hesitate to grip the man by the arm and take off running, dragging Lee Chang along if necessary. The monsters they'd set loose looked hungry, and Mingyu wasn't sticking around to find out if the guard's corpse alone would sate them.

He didn't stop until they were in the kitchens, until he found a door to lock behind them once they'd entered.

Breathing hard, he glanced over at his companion to see how Lee Chang was holding up.

[jeoha]

Lee Chang's body, at least, remembered well how to flee - and as soon as Mingyu started pulling him along, he made good example of it, not even breathing very hard by the time they arrived. (He was too used to long runs away from zombies.) His mind, on the other hand, was somewhere else entirely, his brow furrowed tightly.

"No," he murmured to himself, "It's not right, they can't-- they can't speak--"

[descendency]

"Different plague," Mingyu suggested once again, but didn't elaborate because who wanted to admit his source was mostly zombie movies? Lee Chang definitely didn't know what a movie was.

"You couldn't have known," he went on. "I couldn't tell there was anything wrong until it was very wrong either."

As he spoke, he looked around the kitchen for something to arm himself with.

[jeoha]

Lee Chang stood there, looking back towards the way they'd come, still covered in the blood and gore of the last zombie attack he had dealt with.

A different plague.

"Or a changed one," He breathed, more to himself than to Mingyu. "Where under the sky are we...?"

He managed to shake himself out of it a second later, joining Mingyu on his quest, pulling open foreign-looking cupboards and draws in his search. He finally found what looked like a cleaver - a large butcher knife - and looked back at the door.

"I have to go back. If they get loose--"

[descendency]

Mingyu immediately stepped in, caught Lee Chang's arm by the wrist. He was deeply inconvenienced by his lack of magic in this moment, as there was nothing he could do about a reckless man with a knife except try to talk him out of it.

That was what magic did, he supposed. Corroded at all else until there was nothing left. Talk was all Mingyu had before, and it got him by just fine. Now—

He took in a deep breath.

"They are loose. This place had problems before you, it'll have problems after. You'll, what? Go back? Die so you don't have to look your mistake in the eye? Leave me here to fend for myself? What did I say about big heroic gestures?"

[jeoha]

Lee Chang looked at a horrific loss, breathing hard as he stared a thousand yards past the door toward the damage he knew he'd now caused. But he didn't pull at Mingyu's grip around his wrist, didn't step forward. Instead, his grit his teeth and hissed in a breath.

"Damn it," he swore, the Korean translating thanks to the crystals they now had, but still delivered in a way that would make Mu-Yeong blush.

"Damn it!" He turned back around, aggressively searching the rest of the kitchens, hoping the others would find them.