04-16-2015, 09:54 AM
With a scowl on his face, Shang retreated from the alley and back to the main street. Much to his frustration, the available light had shrunken when the world slipped back into whatever living Hell the city turned into when the sirens rang. The flickering yellow street lights now gave off only a fleeting amount of red light that only served to highlight how rusted and decayed the surrounding buildings now appeared. A few minutes ago, he could see all the way to the next intersection, but as he stood in the street now, he could barely see more than three yards in any direction.
The only solace that the sorcerer had was that his tarkatan warriors remained in the same position, although it was clear that they had become somewhat unnerved by the town’s transformation. Their blades stood ready to pop forth at the slightest indication that some monster was going to come twitching or shrieking out of the surrounding darkness. With the Spartan gone and Argento more of a liability than an ally, Shang Tsung was pleased to have the half-demon killing machines guarding his flanks.
The paladin heard the wail of the air raid siren, but he was further removed from the district than he had been the previous time. As he looked back at what he now knew to be ‘central’ Silent Hill, and if what his map told him was correct, he was passing through the ‘resort’ part of the spread-out town. To someone who had lived much of his life in a rural farming community, Argento knew little of what the terms and figures on the map meant. All he knew was that he needed to continue his search to find Omni, and if Shang intended to search that part of town in more depth, the paladin figured it best he venture to a different locale. He was driven by a need to know that the sacrifices of his friends and associates would wind up meaning something.
For better or for worse, Argento noted that the surroundings remained unchanged. With the map clenched in his gauntleted fist, he continued on his path. The monster had been all but nonexistent since his last conversation with the sorcerer, but the paladin was unable to relax. Up ahead, there was another bridge, and to his left, the river flowed into Toluca Lake. Despite the perpetual fog and dreariness that consumed the region, the lake was quite beautiful—its crystal blue waters were still enough to allow Argento to glimpse a few fish.
The fact that the fish he saw weren’t covered in spikes or glowing with devil fire led the paladin to believe that the stories of this town once being close to utopia probably had some truth to them. What had befallen this place to leave it in such a bizarre state?
With a sigh, Argento placed a hand over the sun emblem on his chest plate and started across the wide bridge.
They were close to Alchemilla Hospital. Even with how thick and inhospitable the area had become, Shang and his entourage had remained unmolested as they continued north on Canyon Street. If the map was to be believed, they’d soon approach the entrance to a little courtyard part on the east side of the hospital. At this point, he wasn’t even sure what he’d been looking for in the hospital, since it was pretty clear at the Sanitarium that he was chasing the trail of something that had been quite hastily covered up by people in nice suits.
That said… Shang wanted to get to the bottom of the trail of breadcrumbs he had found amongst the computer terminal in the old medical facility. If the Hospital yielded no results, he’d just turn his attention to something else. In a city of this scale, there had to be more than just one or two secrets waiting for a prying eye to find them. Despite the fact that the city was still seething red around him, Shang was starting to feel a little better about the situation. Even though he still needed a few viable souls to remove some of the ill effects of his curse, he had a little spring in his step as he spotted the gates up ahead.
Unfortunately, the sorcerer should have known that there was always a lull before the fury of the storm fell upon you once more.
“You!”
Shang spun just in time to watch a man drop down to the street near the intersection. The impact with which the lightly armored man hit the ground was enough to cause the pavement to buckle and fissure beneath him.
Just like the Spartan, this new arrival had a translucent white aura that burned fiercely around a body covered in a suit of armor that could best be described as a fusion of samurai and science fiction. Although the warriors gloves and greaves were clearly influenced by Eastern cultures, the breast plate, epaulets, thigh, and crotch guards were too different to have been originally paired with the rest. They were designed from a different material and somewhat molded to the man’s chest and abdomen.
Beneath a head of wildly unkempt black hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail, but it wasn’t the hair or the armor that drew the sorcerer’s attention. It was the man’s eyes. They were eyes that he’d seen before—the same ones that had glared at him through the keyhole at the Riverside Motel. This was the same man who had been ‘physically engaged’ with the young woman from the alley, and just like earlier, he didn’t sound any happier.
Instead of respond right away, Shang Tsung took a long series of moments to glance back and forth at the clearly abandoned street before turning his focus back to the glaring stranger. “You mean me?” He asked, choking back the usual sneer he’d use to punctuate such a snide retort. “Or do you mean one of these fine gentlemen?” At that, the three tarkata stepped forward, and their arm blades popped out with a succession of snikts.
The display of aggression only served to elicit a tooth sneer from the man. “I know that it’s you from the motel, Old Man. You can change your appearance, but you can’t change your ki.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shang replied as he let his arms slip down to his sides. As they did, his sleeves fell over them, which would cover up the subtle shift that would occur to let him use his own tarkatan arm blades.
“I know you were watching… And I know that you were talking with the Mistress before the siren.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he eyed up the quartet that stood opposed to him. “I don’t take too kindly to filth trying to make moves on my wife,” he added as Shang noticed that little droplets of what seemed to be gray blood were dripping from the man’s very clearly armored hands.
“Your wife?” Shang inquired; fighting back a laugh that he knew would tip the man over the edge. “She didn’t mention a husband, just that she was sick of the same old piece of meat.”
At that, the sorcerer saw the man tense up—a clear indication that Shang had ruffled his feathers. Why not? Men always fought their worst when anger took over. “I will murder you,” the armored warrior seethed as he took a single step forward and clenched one of his fists. “This is my town!”
Just like that, the flung his squeezed hand forward, and when it reached the extent of his arm, his fingers flung open, releasing what appeared to be a large crossbow bolt. The projectile, still dripping with liquid metal, zipped through the air and hit one of the tarkata hard in the chest, throwing the half-demon monster off his feet. Shang didn’t need to look back to know that his creature had suffered a mortal wound.
Now, at least, he knew what oozed and dripped from his adversary’s hands.
Without hesitation, the two surviving tarkata charged the metal-wielding warrior, who stood his ground despite the pair of snarling monsters. For his part, Shang just watched as his trained dogs rushed his would-be attacker. As the tarkata approached, their foe moved forward to meet them as liquid metal poured down over his hands. By the time his punch would have connected with the side of one of the tarkata’s necks, the man’s gauntleted fist had vanished beneath a three-foot serrated blade.
With relatively ease, the newly formed sword-arm cleaved down through the half-demon from neck to waist, and the two chunks smacked wetly on the pavement around the warrior. The surviving tarkata wasn’t able to finish its attack before the wild-eyed fighter’s second blade punched up through its gut and out of its back. The creature flailed for a few moments before slumping forward. A beat later, it was ceremoniously hurtled back at the sorcerer.
“You should have put a leash on your dogs,” the sneering man responded as Shang lifted his hands up into the air. The three corpses of the tarkatan warriors shuddered on the ground for a few moments before—following a flash of rainbow light—they faded into green clouds.
“They served their purpose,” the sorcerer replied callously as he gestured with his hands, causing the three clouds to return to their owner. As they vanished into Shang’s body, he let out a soft sigh as he felt the dead creature’s strength return to him. He didn’t expand on that thought, but the sorcerer was glad that the tarkata had been so bold, because it had forced the strange, angry warrior to reveal many of his skills.
“How very callous of you,” the other man sneered as the blades around his hands bubbled and hissed as they receded—vanishing into his gauntlets within a matter of moments. “You won’t be that way when I’m peeling the flesh from your bones with my bare hands.”
“Heh,” Shang snickered. “I don’t think we’re acquainted… I’m Shang Tsung.”
The man shook his head. “I’m a killer. That is what I am.”
His response made the sorcerer recall the remark made by his ‘wife’ in the alleyway. ‘I was someone.’ For the first time, Shang found himself interested in learning more about these people he met who had no names. Was this what happened when someone became trapped in this place for a long period of time? Would he himself start to forget who he was and become some sort of walking vessel of overactive emotions?
“Now we have the matter,” the Killer responded as he held out his hands. As Shang watched, the serrated blades reformed over his would-be murderer’s hands. “Of me drinking your blood.” With an animalistic scream, the other man launched himself forward, kicking off the ground with such force that chunks of pavement were ripped up in his wake.
The only solace that the sorcerer had was that his tarkatan warriors remained in the same position, although it was clear that they had become somewhat unnerved by the town’s transformation. Their blades stood ready to pop forth at the slightest indication that some monster was going to come twitching or shrieking out of the surrounding darkness. With the Spartan gone and Argento more of a liability than an ally, Shang Tsung was pleased to have the half-demon killing machines guarding his flanks.
***
The paladin heard the wail of the air raid siren, but he was further removed from the district than he had been the previous time. As he looked back at what he now knew to be ‘central’ Silent Hill, and if what his map told him was correct, he was passing through the ‘resort’ part of the spread-out town. To someone who had lived much of his life in a rural farming community, Argento knew little of what the terms and figures on the map meant. All he knew was that he needed to continue his search to find Omni, and if Shang intended to search that part of town in more depth, the paladin figured it best he venture to a different locale. He was driven by a need to know that the sacrifices of his friends and associates would wind up meaning something.
For better or for worse, Argento noted that the surroundings remained unchanged. With the map clenched in his gauntleted fist, he continued on his path. The monster had been all but nonexistent since his last conversation with the sorcerer, but the paladin was unable to relax. Up ahead, there was another bridge, and to his left, the river flowed into Toluca Lake. Despite the perpetual fog and dreariness that consumed the region, the lake was quite beautiful—its crystal blue waters were still enough to allow Argento to glimpse a few fish.
The fact that the fish he saw weren’t covered in spikes or glowing with devil fire led the paladin to believe that the stories of this town once being close to utopia probably had some truth to them. What had befallen this place to leave it in such a bizarre state?
With a sigh, Argento placed a hand over the sun emblem on his chest plate and started across the wide bridge.
***
They were close to Alchemilla Hospital. Even with how thick and inhospitable the area had become, Shang and his entourage had remained unmolested as they continued north on Canyon Street. If the map was to be believed, they’d soon approach the entrance to a little courtyard part on the east side of the hospital. At this point, he wasn’t even sure what he’d been looking for in the hospital, since it was pretty clear at the Sanitarium that he was chasing the trail of something that had been quite hastily covered up by people in nice suits.
That said… Shang wanted to get to the bottom of the trail of breadcrumbs he had found amongst the computer terminal in the old medical facility. If the Hospital yielded no results, he’d just turn his attention to something else. In a city of this scale, there had to be more than just one or two secrets waiting for a prying eye to find them. Despite the fact that the city was still seething red around him, Shang was starting to feel a little better about the situation. Even though he still needed a few viable souls to remove some of the ill effects of his curse, he had a little spring in his step as he spotted the gates up ahead.
Unfortunately, the sorcerer should have known that there was always a lull before the fury of the storm fell upon you once more.
“You!”
Shang spun just in time to watch a man drop down to the street near the intersection. The impact with which the lightly armored man hit the ground was enough to cause the pavement to buckle and fissure beneath him.
Just like the Spartan, this new arrival had a translucent white aura that burned fiercely around a body covered in a suit of armor that could best be described as a fusion of samurai and science fiction. Although the warriors gloves and greaves were clearly influenced by Eastern cultures, the breast plate, epaulets, thigh, and crotch guards were too different to have been originally paired with the rest. They were designed from a different material and somewhat molded to the man’s chest and abdomen.
Beneath a head of wildly unkempt black hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail, but it wasn’t the hair or the armor that drew the sorcerer’s attention. It was the man’s eyes. They were eyes that he’d seen before—the same ones that had glared at him through the keyhole at the Riverside Motel. This was the same man who had been ‘physically engaged’ with the young woman from the alley, and just like earlier, he didn’t sound any happier.
Instead of respond right away, Shang Tsung took a long series of moments to glance back and forth at the clearly abandoned street before turning his focus back to the glaring stranger. “You mean me?” He asked, choking back the usual sneer he’d use to punctuate such a snide retort. “Or do you mean one of these fine gentlemen?” At that, the three tarkata stepped forward, and their arm blades popped out with a succession of snikts.
The display of aggression only served to elicit a tooth sneer from the man. “I know that it’s you from the motel, Old Man. You can change your appearance, but you can’t change your ki.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shang replied as he let his arms slip down to his sides. As they did, his sleeves fell over them, which would cover up the subtle shift that would occur to let him use his own tarkatan arm blades.
“I know you were watching… And I know that you were talking with the Mistress before the siren.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he eyed up the quartet that stood opposed to him. “I don’t take too kindly to filth trying to make moves on my wife,” he added as Shang noticed that little droplets of what seemed to be gray blood were dripping from the man’s very clearly armored hands.
“Your wife?” Shang inquired; fighting back a laugh that he knew would tip the man over the edge. “She didn’t mention a husband, just that she was sick of the same old piece of meat.”
At that, the sorcerer saw the man tense up—a clear indication that Shang had ruffled his feathers. Why not? Men always fought their worst when anger took over. “I will murder you,” the armored warrior seethed as he took a single step forward and clenched one of his fists. “This is my town!”
Just like that, the flung his squeezed hand forward, and when it reached the extent of his arm, his fingers flung open, releasing what appeared to be a large crossbow bolt. The projectile, still dripping with liquid metal, zipped through the air and hit one of the tarkata hard in the chest, throwing the half-demon monster off his feet. Shang didn’t need to look back to know that his creature had suffered a mortal wound.
Now, at least, he knew what oozed and dripped from his adversary’s hands.
Without hesitation, the two surviving tarkata charged the metal-wielding warrior, who stood his ground despite the pair of snarling monsters. For his part, Shang just watched as his trained dogs rushed his would-be attacker. As the tarkata approached, their foe moved forward to meet them as liquid metal poured down over his hands. By the time his punch would have connected with the side of one of the tarkata’s necks, the man’s gauntleted fist had vanished beneath a three-foot serrated blade.
With relatively ease, the newly formed sword-arm cleaved down through the half-demon from neck to waist, and the two chunks smacked wetly on the pavement around the warrior. The surviving tarkata wasn’t able to finish its attack before the wild-eyed fighter’s second blade punched up through its gut and out of its back. The creature flailed for a few moments before slumping forward. A beat later, it was ceremoniously hurtled back at the sorcerer.
“You should have put a leash on your dogs,” the sneering man responded as Shang lifted his hands up into the air. The three corpses of the tarkatan warriors shuddered on the ground for a few moments before—following a flash of rainbow light—they faded into green clouds.
“They served their purpose,” the sorcerer replied callously as he gestured with his hands, causing the three clouds to return to their owner. As they vanished into Shang’s body, he let out a soft sigh as he felt the dead creature’s strength return to him. He didn’t expand on that thought, but the sorcerer was glad that the tarkata had been so bold, because it had forced the strange, angry warrior to reveal many of his skills.
“How very callous of you,” the other man sneered as the blades around his hands bubbled and hissed as they receded—vanishing into his gauntlets within a matter of moments. “You won’t be that way when I’m peeling the flesh from your bones with my bare hands.”
“Heh,” Shang snickered. “I don’t think we’re acquainted… I’m Shang Tsung.”
The man shook his head. “I’m a killer. That is what I am.”
His response made the sorcerer recall the remark made by his ‘wife’ in the alleyway. ‘I was someone.’ For the first time, Shang found himself interested in learning more about these people he met who had no names. Was this what happened when someone became trapped in this place for a long period of time? Would he himself start to forget who he was and become some sort of walking vessel of overactive emotions?
“Now we have the matter,” the Killer responded as he held out his hands. As Shang watched, the serrated blades reformed over his would-be murderer’s hands. “Of me drinking your blood.” With an animalistic scream, the other man launched himself forward, kicking off the ground with such force that chunks of pavement were ripped up in his wake.
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)