The Forgotten Ring

Knosis

Knosis

Grumpy Badger
Moderator
Benefactor
Ruins from an 'incident' several years ago. No one likes talking about what happened here, and the government has not issued clean up to the area yet. A few buildings still stand, although mostly boarded up and ransacked. Great place to lay low for a small time.
 
The group was brought to the ruins at the end of the the third rings where total chaos had happened once upon a time. Some cleaning had been done, and some of the land around was flat and the rubble cleared away, but it would take decades more to even get this area remotely back to where it was useful. And Morrigan hated it. She hated it with a passion. It reminded her why she had to be a handler. This is why they needed to be collared. This was the kind of mass destruction they were capable of. She wouldn't let it happen again.

Never. Again.

Darius remembered what had happened at the very least, he had been a younger lad when the world turned on its head.

Morrigan pulled over when she deemed them significantly far enough in the once grand fourth ring. "Keep sharp. Even if we don't find what we're looking for, there is usually someone out here hiding something." She grumbled, getting out of the car. Darius and Zieg followed suit, Darius heading to the back to open up the trunk. Back there were his weapons of choosing, a short shot gun and several throwing knives he kept sharp as well as a taser or two. There were a few odds and ends, but mostly he got by simply living on pure luck it seemed. Morrigan pulled her bag out the trunk, large enough to be considered a messenger bag, and slung it over her shoulders.

"The other teams will be circling the area clockwise until they meet our vehicle. We'll be doing the same. Let's move out and start searching for anything out of the ordinary.

The moon had already risen a significant amount, casting long shadows where buildings' rubble stood now.
 
To Orion, the entire trip was incredibly awkward and took a million years. While it wasn't that long, it might as well have been. His fingers ran through his red locks and he stared out the window as Morrigan drove. The notion of being put with her was nerve wracking and he didn't understand why he just wasn't put with Beck. That way, she could keep Alaska and only one collared would be displaced. Thankful when they arrived, he scrambled out of the car once it was parked and just stood nearby it, glancing around cautiously.

Why the hell are we doing this at night? He mused, but knew better than to question outloud his thoughts. Exhaling deeply, he didn't turn to face Kerrigan as she spoke, but did manage to pay attention to her instructions. One false move out here could mean death and not just from her.

"Understood." With that, Orion moved forward, assuming Morrigan would just follow him or tell him which way to go. The quicker they found whatever, the quicker he could be away from her.
 
The transition from the Inner Circle to their destination was a drudging, checkpoint-filled diorama was the development of civilization in reverse. The checkpoint leaving the Inner Circle itself was the longest delay in the entire process. Alaska was a collared. Leaving the Inner Circle as a collared wasn’t something done without a laundry list of regulations and procedures to be followed. Leaving without the assigned and registered handler wasn’t one of those procedures. It didn’t take someone with the powers to sense the emotion of others to pick up on the ass-chewing the guard must have received when calling in the question for authorization before he waved their vehicle through with a red face of embarrassment and anger.

The Second Ring was the shining beacon of Rayvale, the one true splash of color and light in the city standing out from the crowd. An impressive array of distractions for the populace. One could spend hours, days in the Second Ring and not see all there was to offer – but it would take on a fraction of that time to burn a life’s savings on the goods and wares to be found.

The Third Ring was what you made of it. For some, there were lavish buildings supporting lifestyles made of dreams. For others, worn and weathered tenement buildings designed to support the bare minimum of living standards for as many people as could cram inside. Most fell somewhere between.

If the checkpoint from the Inner Circle was suspicious as to why a collared was allowed to leave, the checkpoint from the Third Ring was suspicious as to why anyone would want to leave the residential district at all. The structure of that area and the focus of the personnel there seemed more concerned about what might be trying to come in rather than leave.

“Welcome to the real world,” Beck spoke, breaking what had marked over an hour of long silence in the vehicle. He’d been lost in his thoughts for most of the drive, seemingly completely unaware that he wasn’t the only one lost in his own head as they transitioned from the center of Rayvale to what was left of the outside. The road quickly deteriorated, interspersed with large pieces of rubble once serving as cornerstones of buildings lost to whatever horrors ravaged this place before the government and military turned their back on the Ring.

“Anyone who makes a life of it out here,” he mused aloud, “high price to pay to stay out of someone’s sights.”

Eventually, they reached an abandoned – presumably – building that stretched several stories into the sky. Structurally sound, it seemed, but most windows long gone and surrendered to howling winds and the pervasive return of nature to what was once an urban sprawl.

“You’re going to need this,” Beck said, reaching down into a utility console between them and retrieving a box-style, handle-equipped flashlight. The thing had enough heft that it would make for a decent club if swung hard enough. “Don’t think anyone here has paid the light bill in a while,” he offered while pushing it across the seat at Alaska.

“There’s other things you might need, too,” he said, opening the door and stepping out of the vehicle, reaching behind the small of his back with something of a wince before producing a pistol, chambering a round, then clicking on the safety. “But I don’t think we’re quite there yet."
 
It was always fun to see those without a collar get their ass chewed out while she's waved on out. This is her first outing without Kerrigan, and it's interesting to see the process. Alaska pays careful attention, though she spends most of the time looking like she's fiddling with whatever her hands can reach -- seatbelt, window settings, etc. -- She does lean in at one point to try and catch the nametag on the guard's face before they're waved on by.

Once they were out and her trance was over, Alaska pressed her nose up to the glass, peering out. She missed her life from before she was collared. It's not like she would see anyone that she would know, but the captive was desperate for a glance at a normal life. The Second and Third rings were gone far too quickly for Alaska's liking, but she supposed they weren't here for that anyway.

"For some, the price might be worth it," she muttered. If she ever escaped, Alaska supposed she would have to figure a way to make a life out here. If she could. Otherwise, she was risking being captured (or much worse) again.

The flashlight she took without trouble, flicking it on and up at her face for a moment to make sure it worked before flipping it off again. Wouldn't that be just her luck? Thankfully it did come on, so that was nice. "Thanks."

Beck's weapon, however, she eyed with great distaste. Sure, there was a werewolf running around, but it still made her uncomfortable. A lot could go wrong with a pistol shot. Morrigan dares to view her as something like a monster because of something that was beyond her control, but she doesn't seem to have a problem with her colleagues carrying around violent weaponry. Hypocrisy. The world was built upon it. "Like what?" Alaska wasn't naive enough to think that they would give her a pistol, even out in the field, but she was curious to see what they would give the POA. As Beck prepared to move out, Alaska glanced around. She could feel the familiar tendrils of Morrigan's irritation. Zieg's deep-seated anger was likewise easy to pick out.

There were others, though. It wasn't unsurprising, considering that they had just been talking about those who made a life out here. But it made her uncomfortable to know that they could be nearby, watching. Nearby, someone was afraid; she just couldn't say if they were afraid of her and Beck or of something else. Frowning, she turned her attention back to her handler.
 
“Twist the handle,” Beck instructed as he opened the back of the vehicle and retrieved the rifle, running a hand slowly down the barrel like a lost lover rekindling the flames of youth. If Alaska were so inclined, she would find the handle to twist quickly and pop the edges of a kickout panel at the back of the box-style light, revealed a serrated-edge knife, a six-inch blade.

Jagged shadows punctured the world courtesy of dying sunlight as the two prowled around the outskirts of the building before finally finding a doorway boarded over with cheap particle wood. It wouldn’t take more than a tug or two before it would give way to the inside of the building and a utility stairway. And darkness.

“We’ve got maybe an hour before the others are in position. Gives us long enough to get a good vantage point,” he explained, pointed up the first bend of the stairs. “If we’re lucky, we’re the only ones here. If not…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Praetor Beck was a survivor, but he sure as hell wasn’t lucky.
 
Morrigan followed close behind her new temporary ward, her very presence like that of a very hungry hawk staring down her food- Dangerous. Zieg's form seemed to shift from time to time as he moved in and out of shadowed areas. Well, that wasn't the right way to explain it. It was as if he was part of the shadow he passed but chose not to sink into them. To remain the 3D version of shadow.

A shadow with piercing red eyes.

Darius sighed and started in line with the rest.

Morrigan pointed to one of the buildings that stood still, it looked like it was once a small grocery store. "Orion and I will search in here. You and Zieg remain outside and stay close, but continue searching for signs of life."

--

Beck would not be lucky this time. There was someone up the stairs he wished to travel. A silent unfeeling thing that lingered there...
 
As he walked, Orion tried to think what the sensation of Morrigan's eyes boring into the back of his head reminded him of. All at once it hit him and he scowled deeply, fists clinching at his sides. It was like he was in school all over again and the bullies were staring him down like prey. He loathed it then and now was even worse because he couldn't even escape.

Fucking bossy bitch.

Glad he wasn't facing Morrigan, Orion rolled his eyes at her command and switched direction, heading for the building that she pointed out. He shot a look towards Darius and then towards Zieg, watching how the Vampire effortlessly moved between the shadows. Exhaling, he moved to the building, tugging open the door before cautiously stepping inside.
 
Alaska twisted the handle and peeked inside. "Wicked." Not that she was super talented with a knife or any form of up-close combat, but it was nice to have some sort of protection on hand. She closed it up, content to let the knife stay hidden for now. With her luck, she'd take it, trip over something, and stab herself in the chest.

She wanted out, of course, but not like that.

It might impress Beck, maybe, that Alaska was utterly silent as she followed him around the building. Sneaking was something she'd become quite good at, and her steps didn't make a sound as they wandered around. She may not be military trained, but at least she wasn't loudly stomping around.

Luck had very little to do with success, and that was the problem with this venture, wasn't it? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as the adrenaline continued to pump. She listened for any sign of Someone or Something. More importantly, though, she felt for anything that indicated there was someone nearby.

Nothing registered.
 
Faint traces of light drifted down the stairwell thanks to the ravages of time capitalizing on the ravages of man. Steps to the left once led down to a basement or some other underground section of the building, but rubble of what had once been the original doorway and surrounding structure blocked anyone from venturing below without serious equipment. At any rate, the pair had business up above.

Structurally, the building and its interior seems intact and solid, simply abandoned. The stairwell was bereft of personality and spoke of a back utility space rather than one be traveled by anyone of importance or in need of impression. Adjusting the rifle strap thrown over his shoulder, Beck produced his own flashlight, a very small cylinder fitting comfortable in the palm of his hand. If this one held its own secret blade, it would scarcely serve much better than to open the mail. Instead, he lifted the flashlight-holding hand and formed a cradle in which his other arm, hand gripping the pistol retrieved earlier, rested within, both pointing at the ready as he stepped over the rubble and began making his first steps upward.

Sounds were rare other than the ones they made. Beck’s footsteps, though balanced and engrained with training to never leave his center of balance in precarious position, fell harder than those of his graceful partner. The perfect hiding place from the sun mixed with the upward breeze created by the now-open entrance made for a chilling effect.

Beck and Alaska reached the first floor landing, finding the door somehow barred from the other side. Didn’t matter, wouldn’t have yielded a decent nest anyhow. Up they went.

The door the second floor was jarred open and inside Beck ducked, beckoning Alaska to follow with two forward dips to follow with his own light. The building revealed its purpose as some of business, generic offices splitting off from a main hallway with a large reception area and open front desk. The light from earlier was apparent as large windows, most of them with glass broken and missing, allowed light inside.

Beck switched off his light for a moment. The place hadn’t been the site of some battle, hadn’t been ravaged. It had simply, again, been abandoned. Left to time. Nature, what of it was to be found here, was slowly creeping in again.

“They should have levelled all of these years ago,” he remarked coolly, apparently unable to appreciate the irony that he was advocating for the destruction of the very thing his preferred tactics required.
 
Morrigan stayed close behind Orion, using a flashlight to illuminate the dark building. Rats scurried from the bright light, and at a feral cat hissed and ran away. The short woman clicked her tongue in disgust.

"Disgusting.. Should have finished bulldozing this ages ago.." She grumbled. The air seemed to grow a tad colder, or was it just her? She breathed a breath, and a curling mist left her lips. ".. There is could be a cryomancer near here.." She murmured to Orion. "Careful."

Zieg hummed quietly to himself, which was strange for the vampire. Darius felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, but he ignored it right this moment. Zieg would act if they were in danger. As odd as the vampire was, he could see and hear things much better than any human could. Plus, his 'tingling' senses weren't.. Well. Ya know. Tingling.

--

Somewhere within the same floor, a door squeaked softly. But in the quietness of the building itself, it was a rather obvious sound. It had to be at a short distance though.
 
Thankful for the light source coming from Morrigan, Orion ignoring her comment, figuring it wasn’t anything worth responding to. Not only that, she apparently thought she was holier than though and he was scum, so it’s not like she would even give a crap about what he had to say. It was sad though, a building that probably was once very nice turned to a dilapidated piece of shit. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end at the clear change in temperature. Great, a cryomancer. That was just fabulous.

Nodding towards his temporary handler, the redhead opted to stay focused on the task at hand and put his hatred away for the moment. He definitely didn’t need his mind unfocused at this stage in the game. Pausing just a little as he glanced around, Orion peered back towards Kerrigan, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“Should I send myself off to peek around elsewhere?” His attention shifted from her over towards Zieg and Darius and then back towards Kerrigan. However, at the sound of the squeaking, his gaze snapped around the room as he fought to determine which way it came from.
 
Beck slowly approached one of the broken windows, the sill and bottom pane rising somewhere between his knee and hips. Easing the rifle from its slung position over his shoulder and resting barrel-up on the inset of the window, crouching down while doing so. Not much to see outside, at least not yet.

“Before they get here, I want you to—” a slight sound nearby silenced Beck as his pivoted in his crouched position, wheeling immediately grabbing for the pistol that had found its way to a leg holster a moment before. The companion flashlight returned and began to scan back into the darker recesses of the building.

Not alone.

“Pss,” he hissed at Alaska in the distance created between them, jerking violently with his head in a not-so-subtle suggestion for her to get lower to the ground.
 
"Why spend money cleaning up the area, when you can just ignore it." Alaska shook her head, but was silent after that, following Beck around. While he situated himself at the window, she turned her back to him, eyeing their surroundings. She liked Beck a hell of a lot more than Morrigan, but it was also in her best interest to make sure that he didn't die.

Clicking off the flashlight, she glanced around as her eyes tried to adjust to the dark. Alaska obeyed, lowering herself, but she was already reaching feelers out, concentrating less on what was happening there in the moment and more on trying to get a read. There were still the emotions in the distance, but inside? Whatever it was, it didn't feel. Or she couldn't feel it.

Quietly the ex-thief unscrewed the back of the flashlight to retrieve her weapon. Who knew she'd need it so soon?
 
"Yes." Morrigan some how made a snapping whisper drip with hatred. "Go over there! It's colder from that direction." She grumbled, pointing with her flashlight before handing it to him. "Take it."

She slowly unholstered her gun and made her way around so she could get a better angle. Orion would find where several open doors where the freezer section of the store used to be and an open area in the freezer. However, they hadn't worked for years as the power was no longer on. It did, indeed, get colder in the area though. He'd feel a prickling sensation the closer he got as if he was being watched.

--

There was no feeling coming from the room that had creaked near Alaska and Beck, but there were definitely sounds. Scraping could be heard as it slowly crept its way through the halls. Strange clicking and popping could be heard resonating through the nearly empty building.

And then what seemed to be a long silence. WHAM!

A door across the hall slammed open, and then silence once more before the strange scraping, pops and clicks could be heard. Whatever it was, it was searching for them.
 
Tactics. Decisions designed in a classroom based on a perfect combination of factors and unlimited time to parcel out the ramifications of each individual outcome to create the ideal outcome. Tactics were wonderful for instruction or generals of old sitting miles behind the frontlines where each life was nothing more than a designation on a map. Worked wonders for a game of chess as well. In this moment, however, tactics were a snap decision that would make the difference between coming home with a war story or becoming one told over drinks by the bastards luckily enough to limp back to safety.

Tactics in this moment called for force. Enclosed space, unknown aggressive force in an area devoid of any possibly friendly casualties. Beck should have hurled a grenade into the room after the door slammed open, allowing the concussive blast to resonate within the walls therein and exponentially increase the damage to whoever, or whatever, was waiting on the other side.

There were just two problems with that plan. First, the state of the building was unknown. A blast of that impact could very well impact a structure-bearing load within the walls and cause at least a partial collapse of the building, putting he and Alaska in just as much danger.

Second, Beck didn’t have any grenades.

The next tactic would be to pincer the door, luring out the enemy and forcing it to defend an attack from both sides. In an instant, Beck knew there was no way to communicate a strategy to Alaska and he doubted she had the slightest understanding of how to pull it off anyway. He tempted the synapse firing that suggested she would made excellent bait. A few steps in the right direction, exposing her to whatever waited, allowing him to line up a shot at a vulnerable target.

The thought of having to answer to Morrigan and his own commander at potentially sacrificing on their precious powereds chilled the idea. As, as the poor bastards went, this one wasn’t half bad. For a powered.

That left one tactic.

Run.

“Stairwell. Truck,” Beck’s voice spoke in a growling whisper. “Move. Your. Ass.”

As the words hissed, the soldier reached behind him, slowly grasping the rifle and pulling it back to him, eyes never leaving the dark frame of the door.
 
Lord help him, he wanted to flip off Morrigan so badly. How long had it been since he wanted to do such a simple action? A hell of a long time. Instead, Orion just nodded towards her and slowly and cautiously moved the direction she had pointed, only after taking the flashlight, of course. Stupid bitch, hope you die. Maybe if she had given him a flashlight, to begin with, she could have kept hers. Rolling his eyes as he crept towards the area that seemed to get colder the closer he got, the redhead found himself gripping the flashlight more like a weapon than an actual useful thing.

The room was impeccably cold, which made little sense since there was no power to the place. What was a freezer at one time, no longer was able to freeze, so it was clear someone was nearby. Fingers ran through his locks, and he couldn’t help the slight prickling that went up to his neck at the sensation of being watched. Someone knew they were there, and he wondered if Beck and Alaska were being spied on too. So much for the watcher doing the watching.

“You might as well come out. We know you’re there.” He spoke up calmly, almost soothingly, but not quite. Kerrigan didn’t say to keep quiet, and he wasn’t one to just dick around and wait for someone to show up. He wanted this done so he could get away from her and back to his standard handler.
 
A thief always knows her exits.

Unfortunately, she didn't have the opportunity to case the place before they came in, so her options were limited to the window and the door they'd come in through.

The window probably wasn't an option, which meant...

Alaska didn't need to be told twice. As soon as Beck instructed, she and her knife headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. She stumbled on the last one, catching herself on the railing as she aimed for the door.
 
Orion would find no response to his statement. Well, no person responding to his statement. Instead, huge ice spikes began shooting from the ground in his direction from the freezer's direction. Morgan's delayed 'Look out!' could be heard barely over the blasting of tiled floor as each spike, sharp as blades, jutted out and threatened to spear Orion from below.

--

As soon as Alaska made the move, the scraping sound raced towards her. The.. thing.. that followed her looked partly human. Part something else. It had a head of a human, but its elbows and knees bent more like a very large dog's. It's eyes was milky white and stared blankly in her direction. It's jaw opened up wide into many many rows of needle like teeth. Black claws scraped the ground and then dug into the walls as, instead of taking the stairs, used the walls to climb down around. The only other noticeable physical appearance was that it's skin was dotted with what looked like matte black scales, and a large cat-like tail made from those very scales that flicked in much the manner a cat's would.

It felt nothing. But now hunger had driven instincts to hunt. It opened its hideous mouth and let out a loud ear-piercing screech.
 
“Motherf—”

Beck’s utterance clashed with a peculiar corkscrew sensation twisting down his spine at the sight of the creature. It didn’t take longer than the flashing instant of its visible chase for its lethality to become entirely apparent. If the thing was aware of Beck’s presence still, or if it even had the mental capacity to think on that level, was beyond the moment. It chased Alaska and now Beck chased them both.

Sprinting back in the direction they came, he soon lost sight of both targets in the narrow doorway leading into the stairwell. His momentum slammed his waist and hip into the railing, upper body bending and eyes locking down into the trailing light at the forms. One thing was immediately clear – no way Alaska was going to make the door before the thing caught up with her.

No time for a shot. Instincts instead.

With a grunt the old soldier gripped the railing and rolled his hips, throwing his body over into the open drop. With one more twist, Praetor Beck become a human gravity missile, launching himself feet first toward the charging form of the creature.
 
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