Pathfinder: Act II, Hellfire and Brimstone

[Skylez 870]

 

Pathfinder
Act II: Hellfire and Brimstone

♬ ♪ ♫ ♪

 

((Credit to David Chodrishvili))

 

The shunter struggled to get his breath as he braced on a knee, wobbling as coughs and airy rasps rattled through him. The incantation worked, without a doubt, there he was, a stranger in a strange world. After the aged mechanic collected himself, he looked out to survey the foreign, fiery landscape. He was on a rocky plateau, charred and withered trees dotted the scene, along with ruined structures; he believed a settlement of some sort lingered not to far from his plateau, or rather the remnants of one.

 

Realization soon came to the foreigner: the foul winged beasts that he could barely spot in the far distance, the faint, malformed figures on the hillsides, the hellscape he found himself in, it was all cruel irony. For a man so once involved with the occult, to now be sent to this twisted realm. An unintentional laugh left him at this, perhaps to cope with the unsettling fate that was placed upon him. A hand reached around for the modified slurbow on his back, surveying the mechanism briefly as he took to a stand. Breathing in harshly he set out in an unhurried, yet cautious pace, visored view trailing from left and then right in a gradual search. Soon he descended down the plateau, shifting and weaving down the incline that led towards the ruined place.

 

 

 

As he neared he could make out the nature of the crumbled buildings, human architecture it appeared. How odd, he thought, to have a hamlet here of all places, in a malign realm of demonkind: Inferni.

 

“Raku kalkoth!” 

 

The shouted words forced him to veer. A vile, black tongue that he vaguely remembered, yet caused him to grimace regardless. Not even seconds later and more pursuers announced themselves; the twisted barks and loud snarls of what he presumed to be zekul, lesser demonkin. He pulled aside, hunkering against what was once a cobbled wall. A hand fell to the side of his slurbow, grunting as he pulled back the small goat’s foot mechanism to pull the cord back within the barrel. A drawn bolt was quickly chambered, one without fletchings. The dreaded sounds of slurred Ilzakarn and feverish canines only closed in, reaching within a pouch at his side, a handful of caltrops were chucked where he believed his hunters would round the corner to meet him.

 

“Nirhk kalkoth kaaga!”

 

((Credit to Vladyslava))

 

He tenses at the spouted dialect, even if he did not fully understand whatever the hunter yelled. Kaevryn caught a glimpse of one of his pursuers, a dog-like thing with a charred hide and jagged bony protrusions along its body. It’s snout was dug in the ground near another destroyed building, no doubt trying to continue on his trail, the hunted presumed. The marksman shifts, propping the barrel against the ruined cobble. With a swift depression the bolt shoots off, digging hard into the inferni’s outstretched neck. It howls out before falling onto the charred ground with a whimper, black fluid flowing in the place of lifeblood. He dips back, already at work reloading the slurbow, gradually yielding back the lever that guided the cord within.

 

“DIIZM!”

 

A new cacophony of alarmed barks and black tongue erupt. Another four-legged zakul charges on as the machinist reloaded, rounding the corner before it came tumbling onto the ruined brickwork below, having rushed right into the caltrops laid earlier. It let out a short series of pained snarls and growls, though silenced as a sole came crashing down upon its skull, finishing off the impaired hound. Deeming his position compromised, he pushes on from there, sprinting for another ruined alcove to obscure himself as he pushes another bolt in the barrel.

The third demon-hound caught up in little time as the man pressed for cover, leaping over the ruined wall where he was once posted. A set of twisted teeth clamp down upon a boot, right at the lower calf. They prick at his skin underneath, staggering to a knee. His own teeth grit, the hound’s maw violently shaking to and from as the beast tried to wrangle the heavier man. Shakily, a hatchet was ripped from its holder as he awkwardly twisted to get a better view on the zakul. A wild swing was sent out for the thing’s head, connecting. With a throaty whine it fell aside, letting free its foreign quarry. As quickly as he came to, the loaded slurbow discharged, lodging its bolt within the cranium of the dazed hellhound. With a slight limp he pulled himself into cover, back pressed against the blackened stones that once made a home’s foundation. A hand went for the loader as the times before, even despite the clatter of heavy footfalls against the ground beyond.

 

 

((Credit to Isaac Belt))

 

A Zar’ei crashed into the crude wall, flinging cobble, debris, and Kaevryn aside. The one who corralled the hounds. He felt for the ground in his throbbing daze, disarmed of his slurbow. A deep bout of laughter emitted from the olog-sized demonspawn, as it seemed to simply watch the discombobulated foreigner scramble upon the ground. He managed to hoist himself up, spying his shooter a brief sprint away. Even still the horned Zar’ei just spectated as the man did so. It did not seem to move a muscle until the moment the weapon was within the invader’s hands. The hunter broke into a sprint, chasing after the armed man with its oversized polearm in tow. Sweat rolled down his face as he fumbled with the lever, jerking it back and forth, jammed from the earlier collison. Luckily, the demon missed his swipe, carving into the ground nearby right after the engineer flung himself aside to avoid the swing. Finally he yielded back the lever, the cord finding its grove with the distinct click. He looked up, trying to keep sight on the fiendish pursuer. It was turning back, closing the distance between the two in hurried strides rather than a full on charge. A shaky hand felt for another bolt, twitching as he slotted it into the chamber and lined the stock up to take aim. The projectile hit center mass, though it did not halt the Zar’ei in its tracks. A maddened houndmaster swung out, smashing the flat of his polearm into the side of his quarry.

 

His vision blurred after colliding into a destroyed foundation, sluggishly keeping sight on the encroaching demonspawn. A crude chain was pulled from it’s waist, and only an incoherent word was given instead of finishing off the foreign invader.

“Vorhz”

 

His vision gave way.

 

End of Act II, Act III coming soon.

Act I:

[Zacho 2177]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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