LeavesThe Cap'n: Searching the City
Captain Bartholomew K. Runch's confusion could be matched only by his sense or sheer wonder at the amazing things around him. He and his sharpshooter Joanna were two of the last ones to show up, so he didn't get that good of a look at the competition, but what caught his eye in the small amount of time could only be described as mindblowing. Some sort of giant man-like beast was the first to catch his eye, yet it wasn't an actual giant. Then there was the fishman with metal and guns all over its body. Truly a might warrior, as all fishmen were. There was also a woman that had features of a dragon and that was truly frightening. Some sort of big machine on legs, like a walking tank. Runch figured somebody had to be inside piloting the device. He couldn't make heads or tails of anything, or anyone, else before the college officials addressed them to take some kind of large pendants that resembled hearts. The cap'n did so, of course, figuring this was that phylactery thing the way-too-serious man and his excited woman counterpart spoke of. He looked it over a little more closely, disliking the overall design and aesthetic. A bit too morbid for his tastes. Smith and Doctor Kens would probably like it, he mused.
Before the good captain could ponder any more, another fog erupted from the floor beneath them. Figuring this meant they would all be transported again, just like last time, he quickly jammed the phylactery into his inside coat pocket. Coughing a bit as he inhaled whateer this fog-substance was, all things went black and then... There was nothing. To say he existed in darkness would have been a fallacy, for even darkness itself was absent. Runch felt as though, for one fleeting moment, he was all that existed. Thankfully the sensation came to an end before he had the opportunity to ponder the ramifications of such an event. Light returned to his world, a bright light as though opened by a door, and an urging to follow from a mechanized arm. Runch wasted no time, eager for the contest to begin.
Dizzied, the pirate captain fell over on his back. Everything around him spun, and to make matters worse he had to listen to puns as he reoriented and stood up. Well ok, the puns weren't so bad. Hell, his own jokes and puns were way worse than what this... Uh... What was this thing, anyway? It looked like one of those college people, but if he were flat and on a floating hunk of metal. Dumbfounded, he could only watch as it lifted up just enough to show some kind of box secured to its underside. So he'd win that if he took out his first opponent, eh? Consider it done!
"Omnomnom! Good jokes, my friend! I shall take down my first opponent to win your treasure, then move on until I get to the wishing machine! Omnomnom! I don't know who my first opponent is, but there's no way they can withstand explosive flavor of this magnitude!" To emphasize his point, Runch drew his spoonsaber, pointed toward the night sky. With that bit of dramatic flair out of the way, he sheathed the weapon once more and took a look around to gain an awareness of his surroundings.
It definitely looked like some kind of holy grounds, just as the man in the box said. All around the pirate were churches, chapels, mosques, and other religious buildings as far as he could see. Some appeared rather plain, but others were grand indeed, with marble and golden inlay and jewels. He had to laugh at the irony of a pirate being dropped into such a place, and yet he had absolutely no intention of taking any such valuables. After all, what he and his crew sought wasn't money, but something much more.
The good captain took a single step forward, then paused. He had no idea who his first opponent was or what they could do. If he went exploring the buildings, could the ambush him? Did they already setup an ambush? Were they here right now? *Gasp* Could they be invisible?! It was possible, he hadn't seen everybody that was in that room. He definitely wouldn't have noticed if they were invisible! Runch spun around on his feet, getting a good 360 look all around him. Nobody. Well, that settled that, then. If they were invisible, then he wouldn't be able to do anything about it until after they already made their move. Might as well enjoy his time exploring these ruins while he can!
That one stepped turned into a run, which turned into surfing a wave of cereal pouring from his feet like a jet engine, which turned into a happy skip through the front doors of a particularly gothic looking cathedral, made up of many pointed spires. Inside was quite extravagant, it was clear that whichever religious group made this place was extremely concerned about appearances and showing off material wealth. In other words, it was a pirate's dream. Just not this pirate's dream. Still, the cereal man strolled through the halls enamored with the artistic value of the place. Near the entrance he saw a collection plate, but the words above it were quite telling. "Admissions."
"Omnomnom. Looks like a church for people that worship money." He strolled past tall, ornately designed support pillars, brushing his hand along them as he did so. The place was quite large, and he intended to take in every bit of it. The captain's explorations to and fro took nearly a full half hour. Finally he reached the podium, no doubt where the religious leader would address his captive audience. Like everything else in the place it showed off status and capital, yet also felt dreary. He couldn't place why it felt that way, only that... It did. Still, something caught his eye. Sitting on the podium was some sort of pendant fashioned into the same symbol as emblazoned upon the church floor and the walls.
"Well, no harm in a souvenir at least," he said, picking up the pendant and observing how the light struck it. With a shrug, the captain decided to place the chain around his neck. "Never know what might come in handy. Omnomnomnom!"
Meanwhile, another figure moved through the shadows of the Holy Grounds. Somewhere in all this religious mess was a target, and no target was ever left alive. The master assassin wasted no time with the churches of heretics and blasphemers, for this one was single-minded. Find the other contestant, and end him. Painfully. Stick to the shadows just in case the target can see me. Observe him from a safe location. Set up the battlefield to my advantage. If all goes as it should, they shouldn't know I was ever here. Not until it is too late and their blood stains the ground.
The Bashibozuk darted from alley to alley, sticking to the shadows even under the night sky. With expert grace he made little to no sound, but listened very closely for any trace of the target. Coming to a halt, something grabbed the hitman's ears. A low rumbling, moving quickly. Carefully he peeked from around his corner to see the man that had to be his mark. The pirate that had arrived as one of the final competitors, he was riding a wave of something... It appeared to be made of thousands of small pellets of something multi-colored. Sufficiently hidden from view, the Bashibozuk observed as the pirate ceased his wave of whatever it was and casually strolled through hte doors of a large cathedral. Fool, he was wasting his time.
Serhan moved quickly and deftly, stopping a little ways from the cathedral door. There he kneeled down in order to inspect the substance left behind by the pirate. A single blue sphere found itself lifted into the air, which he then scrutinized. ... Cereal? No, it cannot be. This is... This is beyond silly! Yet cereal it was, this he had to confirm. Fine then. The target did not only look like a breakfast mascot from the heretical lands, he had the abilities of one too. The killer recovered from this bizarre turn of events rather quickly, moving swiftly to the doors.
Once in place, he observed the pirate skipping about the inside of the building like some manner of school girl. Pathetic. He would never see Serhan coming. First thing was first, he pulled out thin razor wire and set it up at the doors. Should the pirate somehow be able to flee, he would decapitate himself on this trap. Carefully he moved inside, removing his shoes. This was not a sign of respect, far from it, but a method to ensure his footfalls could not echo throughout the building and warn his mark. Moving from column to column, just out of sight, he began laying his traps. A bit of garrote here, a crossbow attached to a tripwire there, this pirate was positively blind!
Finally, the time to instigate the kill was now. It would be a simple matter to simply slip behind this oblivious fool and slit his throat, but no. No, The Bashibozuk did not do simple. Instead he placed a small alarm clock between two columns, then took to climbing one, just out of sight. Once he was up high enough it was time to put the plan into action. Down below he had fashioned a tripwire attached to two handheld crossbows, hidden behind the columns. The pirate would bumble into the trap, get skewered, then the Hajji would descend upon him from above, yataghan in hand. Surprised and injured, the pirate's instincts should be to flee. He will propel himself with that bizarre cereal power of his and fly directly into the garrote traps. Then Serhan will finish him off, slowly as he carves the man's heart out. Yes, this will work. All it needs now is the clock to go off, triggering all the events into motion.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
"BOPPIN' BLUEBERRIES!" K. Runch practically jumped out of his coat when startled by some bizarre ringing sensation. The sound was only amplified throughout the halls of the great cathedral. As he caught his breath, his eyes scanned for the source of the disturbance. Quickly spotting the clock, he begins to slowly approach it with a quizzical look.
