02-20-2015, 10:16 PM
Moving forward, Shang drilled one of his arm-blades through the back of a man trying to rip open the door. With a gurgling scream, the priest thudded against the door and gave up the ghost. The sorcerer wrenched the blade out in time to spin and grab the on-coming fist of a young squire. A fire burned in the man’s youthful eyes as he struggled to free his hand from the grip of the older warrior. Before he could succeed, Shang buried three feet of organic steel up into his ribcage, skewering his foe’s vital organs.
“You won’t get away with this!” One of the priests screamed as he pulled out one of his religious icons and held it menacingly toward the sorcerer. “You will burn for this, Heretic!”
Shang responded by slashing apart the icon with one swing and using the next swing the cleave away the holy man’s outstretched hand. As the man fell into a screaming, blood-squirting heap, the sorcerer turned to see that Ruby and the last member of their group—some knight with a foreign name—had backed themselves into the corner of the room. Unlike the rest of their now dead comrades, neither of them lacked the resolve to face the sorcerer who now blocked their path to the exit.
“Was this your game all along, Tsung?” Ruby inquired as she rubbed a gauntleted hand down the side of her mace. Shang noted that the surface of the weapon glistened wherever her fingers touched. “What do you gain from murdering a bunch of priests and young priests?”
“Power, of course.” The sorcerer replied as he threw a hand forward and released a screaming, burning skull at the pair. Ruby had enough battle tact to duck and dive, but Sir What’s-His-Face took a moment too long to react. When the fireball hit his chest, it exploded, rending apart his chest in a dazzling display of gore.
Before Shang could readjust his focus, the mace came veering in at him from his right. Throwing up one of his blade-arms, the sorcerer intercepted the blow just before it could find its mark on the side of his face. “You have nice reflexes,” he muttered as he turned his faze to the woman.
“I have a lot more than reflexes!” She screamed as her mace suddenly fired a ray of condensed light right into the sorcerer’s chest. The impact didn’t penetrate the flesh, but the heat burned his clothes and bubbled the flesh above his heart. With a growl, Shang shoved hard with his pinned arm and brought the other swinging toward her skull. Ruby dipped beneath the arch of the blade and popped back up, drilling her helmeted cranium into her foe’s jaw.
Shang staggered, but worse than that, he tasted blood in his mouth, which was far more infuriating than anything else. Reacting swiftly, he brought his knee up into her armor-reinforced chest. The maneuver did little more than buy him a few inches of separation, but it was more than enough to summon in a fireball from right behind the woman. Even though the concussive force threw her right into Shang, he relished at the glassy look in her eyes as she slammed into him and drove him through the wooden door.
The two warriors crashed to the tiled floor of the hallway outside the storage room. Shang felt the air driven from his lungs as the bulk of the armored woman crushed down onto him, but little could dislodge the sneer from his face. “Your back must hurt,” the sorcerer whispered as he sat up with the female warrior and shoved her back into the storage room. She stumbled a few steps before twisting and crashing to the floor. Shang got a nice look at the spot on her lower back where the fireball had compromised her armor and blown apart a piece of her spine.
“Now what was I saying earlier?” He inquired as held out his hands and called out their souls. Ruby, her life ebbing away as the blood pooled around her, grit her teeth and struggled, even as the bodies around her relinquished their prizes. Unfortunately for her, Shang had all the time in the world, and in the end, she let out a frail whimper as her already pale flesh faded to a green-gray shade. Up from her open mouth, her soul floated, flashing all the colors of the rainbow before settling on that green shade that the sorcerer appreciated so much.
With a smile, Shang willed Ruby’s and the others’ souls to him, and the opaque clouds rushed at him, vanishing into his chest.
The sorcerer closed his eyes and smiled as he felt the fresh power flush over him. Memories washed over him as the dead members of the retinue joined the growing vault of souls that was Shang Tsung. Once the sensation left him, Shang took a moment to adjust his clothes and turned back to face the hallway. As he made his way toward the darkness at the other end of the hallway, the Tarkatan-inspired arm-blades slid back up into his arms until a time when he would need them.
Reaching for the door, Shang pushed down the handle and pulled it open, revealing yet another hallway that forked. At the forks, he found two more hallways beyond secured double doors which someone had left unlocked. Beyond both chambers were identical passages, but these were lined with upwards of a dozen metal doors. Each of them bore a number and two small openings—the first to allow someone to see inside and the larger one to allow food to be slipped into the chamber. A quick glanced confirmed his guess that these were holding cells for the patients in the sanitarium. Based on the lack of upkeep and the stench of piss and shit, there hadn’t been someone to keep the place clean in a long time.
Where are the patients, though? The smells that hung in the air were too fresh to be years or even months old. No… the blood and excrement stench couldn’t be older than a few days, which meant that someone had to have released or otherwise removed most of the patients and staff. But to where? Making his way passed the glorified cellblock; Shang entered another hallway and found his attention immediately drawn to the door to his right.
Infirmary. How pleasant. Stepping over to the door, the sorcerer sneered as he pushed it open… and stepped right into the path of an oncoming scalpel blade.
“You won’t get away with this!” One of the priests screamed as he pulled out one of his religious icons and held it menacingly toward the sorcerer. “You will burn for this, Heretic!”
Shang responded by slashing apart the icon with one swing and using the next swing the cleave away the holy man’s outstretched hand. As the man fell into a screaming, blood-squirting heap, the sorcerer turned to see that Ruby and the last member of their group—some knight with a foreign name—had backed themselves into the corner of the room. Unlike the rest of their now dead comrades, neither of them lacked the resolve to face the sorcerer who now blocked their path to the exit.
“Was this your game all along, Tsung?” Ruby inquired as she rubbed a gauntleted hand down the side of her mace. Shang noted that the surface of the weapon glistened wherever her fingers touched. “What do you gain from murdering a bunch of priests and young priests?”
“Power, of course.” The sorcerer replied as he threw a hand forward and released a screaming, burning skull at the pair. Ruby had enough battle tact to duck and dive, but Sir What’s-His-Face took a moment too long to react. When the fireball hit his chest, it exploded, rending apart his chest in a dazzling display of gore.
Before Shang could readjust his focus, the mace came veering in at him from his right. Throwing up one of his blade-arms, the sorcerer intercepted the blow just before it could find its mark on the side of his face. “You have nice reflexes,” he muttered as he turned his faze to the woman.
“I have a lot more than reflexes!” She screamed as her mace suddenly fired a ray of condensed light right into the sorcerer’s chest. The impact didn’t penetrate the flesh, but the heat burned his clothes and bubbled the flesh above his heart. With a growl, Shang shoved hard with his pinned arm and brought the other swinging toward her skull. Ruby dipped beneath the arch of the blade and popped back up, drilling her helmeted cranium into her foe’s jaw.
Shang staggered, but worse than that, he tasted blood in his mouth, which was far more infuriating than anything else. Reacting swiftly, he brought his knee up into her armor-reinforced chest. The maneuver did little more than buy him a few inches of separation, but it was more than enough to summon in a fireball from right behind the woman. Even though the concussive force threw her right into Shang, he relished at the glassy look in her eyes as she slammed into him and drove him through the wooden door.
The two warriors crashed to the tiled floor of the hallway outside the storage room. Shang felt the air driven from his lungs as the bulk of the armored woman crushed down onto him, but little could dislodge the sneer from his face. “Your back must hurt,” the sorcerer whispered as he sat up with the female warrior and shoved her back into the storage room. She stumbled a few steps before twisting and crashing to the floor. Shang got a nice look at the spot on her lower back where the fireball had compromised her armor and blown apart a piece of her spine.
“Now what was I saying earlier?” He inquired as held out his hands and called out their souls. Ruby, her life ebbing away as the blood pooled around her, grit her teeth and struggled, even as the bodies around her relinquished their prizes. Unfortunately for her, Shang had all the time in the world, and in the end, she let out a frail whimper as her already pale flesh faded to a green-gray shade. Up from her open mouth, her soul floated, flashing all the colors of the rainbow before settling on that green shade that the sorcerer appreciated so much.
With a smile, Shang willed Ruby’s and the others’ souls to him, and the opaque clouds rushed at him, vanishing into his chest.
The sorcerer closed his eyes and smiled as he felt the fresh power flush over him. Memories washed over him as the dead members of the retinue joined the growing vault of souls that was Shang Tsung. Once the sensation left him, Shang took a moment to adjust his clothes and turned back to face the hallway. As he made his way toward the darkness at the other end of the hallway, the Tarkatan-inspired arm-blades slid back up into his arms until a time when he would need them.
Reaching for the door, Shang pushed down the handle and pulled it open, revealing yet another hallway that forked. At the forks, he found two more hallways beyond secured double doors which someone had left unlocked. Beyond both chambers were identical passages, but these were lined with upwards of a dozen metal doors. Each of them bore a number and two small openings—the first to allow someone to see inside and the larger one to allow food to be slipped into the chamber. A quick glanced confirmed his guess that these were holding cells for the patients in the sanitarium. Based on the lack of upkeep and the stench of piss and shit, there hadn’t been someone to keep the place clean in a long time.
Where are the patients, though? The smells that hung in the air were too fresh to be years or even months old. No… the blood and excrement stench couldn’t be older than a few days, which meant that someone had to have released or otherwise removed most of the patients and staff. But to where? Making his way passed the glorified cellblock; Shang entered another hallway and found his attention immediately drawn to the door to his right.
Infirmary. How pleasant. Stepping over to the door, the sorcerer sneered as he pushed it open… and stepped right into the path of an oncoming scalpel blade.
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)