04-29-2015, 09:19 PM
The sorcerer fell back as the warrior rocketed through the air at him. Before those blade hands could find their mark on Shang’s flesh, his tarkatan blades punched out through his forearm to intercept the oncoming attacks. Flash-formed metal struck organic steel as Shang tried to stand his ground against a foe that was clearly physically dominant. The pavement behind the sorcerer’s boots started to buckle up behind him as he was driven down and back into what should have been an unyielding surface.
Rather than try and win a fight of brute strength, Shang opened his palm and released a blast of fire that caught the Killer across his armored chest. Upon impact, the ball exploded with enough concussive force to kill the other fighter’s momentum, although it didn’t seem to have any other real effect other than singing the both of them.
Even so, Shang managed to pivot and throw his foe away from him. The armored warrior hit the ground with a harsh thud but was quick to roll up to his feet. Before the sorcerer could react, his adversary threw a hand forward and released a shimmering crossbow bolt. A fireball caught the projectile before it could find a mark, but Shang was unable to regain his bearings before the Killer came stampeding across the street. With a thud, the black-haired man tackled the sorcerer to the ground and started to bash him with his armored forearms.
Three blows came and went before Shang was able to properly defend himself, and by then, he could already feel the fresh blood on his skin and taste it throughout his mouth. The delay was enough of a window for the pinned sorcerer to summon a fireball from the wall of a nearby building. His opponent let out a scream as the blast crashed into the side of his head and toppled him over. As the Killer fell away, Shang popped up to his feet and moved to bury his pair of blades into the chest of his angry-eyed adversary.
With a grunt, the sorcerer’s adversary rolled away, avoiding the tarkatan blades as they slammed into the pavement. By the time Shang wrenched them free from the asphalt, he had to twist and throw them up in an ‘X’ to block against the on-coming pair of blades. After the initial block, the Killer grabbed onto his foes weapons and tried to rip them out of Shang’s arms. Feeling stabs of pain as his bones started to splinter under the duress; the sorcerer leaned forward and smashed his boot against his opponent’s shin.
The grip of the Killer relaxed enough for Shang to pull his arms free. As the blades retracted back up into his forearms, he grabbed his longsword and slid it out of its scabbard.
“That won’t save you either,” the other man sneered. He took a step forward and lifted a hand to fire another attack when a gunshot shattered the otherwise still air of the street. With a growl, the Killer hopped backwards as the spot in the street where he’d been standing moments before exploded upward. Ignoring Shang, the black-haired man glared as he looked up at all of the nearby buildings. “What the hell are you doing?” He roared into silence before a second shot clipped the side of his face, causing him to slap a palm against his cheek. His eyes then fell to the bloodied sorcerer, who was just as confused. “I will kill you. She can’t protect you all the time.”
Just like that, the Killer turned around and slipped into an alley, probably intending to avoid being caught in anyone else’s crosshairs.
What the hell is going on?
Before he could respond, a voice issued forth from his walkie-talkie. “You can thank me later.” Shang knew the voice from earlier. It was the same woman who had radioed him at the motel. The sorcerer grabbed the device from his belt and brought it up to his face.
“Want to explain to me what’s going on?”
“Relax. The hospital is up the street.”
The line went dead before Shang had a chance to hurtle more questions at the shooter. With a groan, Shang tucked away the communication device, and although he probably should have taken some time to clean up his face, he set out directly for Alchemilla Hospital.
From the other side of the bridge, the paladin had ventured down Sanford Street to what appeared to be a small marina built for both tourists and for the purpose of loading and unloading goods being transferred across the lake or up the river. An assortment of visually pleasing homes lined the north side of the street, and while none of them appeared to be currently inhabited, the paladin did note that most of them didn’t seem to be in a state of advanced neglect.
On the south side of the wide street was a large, two-part building that seemed to be a spot where they would repair equipment or stow any of the goods being taken to and from the lake. As Argento approached the buildings, he spotted the words ‘East and West Garages’ on a metal sign on a pole between the two structures. Prior to the Omniverse, the paladin wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what a ‘garage’ was, but this new world had taught him many strange and fascinating things. As he walked toward the old structure, he knew it was a spot where engineers and laborers fixed ‘machines,’ which mobile pieces of steel and fabric that ran off of sources of fire.
Making his way over to the East Garage, Argento twisted the doorknob and smiled when it opened for him. Once he was over the threshold, he found himself in a large room filled with a bunch of strange equipment he didn’t understand and a vast collection of seemingly dissembled machines. They were the same machines that lined the streets of Silent Hill and came in various shapes and sizes—cars. People in other verses used them for transportation, and while he saw the benefit in the armored boxes, Argento would never want to trade in his horse for one of the strange contraptions. There was no soul in these machines. They didn’t feel… they just existed to do a bunch of mundane purposes. With Maximus at his side in battle or on the field, Argento knew he had a third set of eyes watching out for him (the Sun was an eternal set of second eyes). He’d never feel that way in one of these contraptions of ‘technology’ and ‘science.’
In the back corner of the room, a dying light bulb caught Argento’s attention after a few moments of glancing around the garage floor. The flickering yellow light was behind a stained window labeled ‘Office.’ Striding across the room and maneuvering around all of the abandoned equipment and machine parts, Argento reached the door and slipped inside. The interior of the office was filled with a great deal of clutter, and although the stack of papers on the desk had the appearance of being recently sorted through, the rest of the room was covered in a layer of dust. The shelves were decorated with old books, yellowed magazines, and an assortment of metal statues for something called ‘bowling.’ Whoever the owner was, he was clearly some sort of star athlete in the local leagues.
While the faded, dusted decorates were interesting to look at, Argento couldn’t pry his attention away from the desk for too long. Walking over, the paladin took a seat in the padded chair, which whined as it sank a little to support his armored frame. He wasn’t an academic by any means, but the former farmer could tell that someone had rifled through the contents of this room in the recent past. Many of the papers were newspapers and torn papers from magazines, but what drew Argento’s interest were the half-crumbled documents that detailed what was coming in and out of the docks. Most of it seemed rather pedestrian—food, commercial products, and the occasional piece of machinery.
What eventually drew Argento’s attention was the number of lines that someone had written over with a thick black pen. For some reason, the man in charge of this location didn’t want to leave a legibile record of whatever goods he had received that were destined for a place called ‘Alchemilla Hospital.’
…Wait. The paladin furrowed his brow as he tried to recall his last conversation with the sorcerer. Hadn’t Shang Tsung mentioned something about a hospital before they went their separate ways? With a scowl, Argento reached for the communications device and fumbled with it for a few moments until all the settings were correct. After his finger from the appropriate button, he cleared his throat. “Shang, are you there? This is Argento!” He released the button and listened to the jarring yet somewhat soothing noise that sprayed out of the device. He was about to try once again when the calm, cool voice of his associate sounded through.
“Yes, you are the only one with this frequency… What is it?”
Oblivious to the subtle jabs taken at him, the paladin picked up one of the papers and glanced again for clarity. “Did you say something about traveling to Alchemilla Hospital?”
“Correct, I’m standing outside of it, actually. Where are you?”
“I am outside of town at a spot where that river hits the lake. It’s like a merchant wharf combined with a drydock… I found some papers in the building office, and it appears that whoever ran this place didn’t want anyone to know what was being delivered to your hospital.”
The sorcerer was silent for a few moments. When he finally spoke, there was something almost like joy in his words. “That confirms my suspicions about this place, Argento. There’s definitely something hidden in this place… I know it.”
“Then you should wait for me to return, and we can scour that fel installation side-by-side!”
“I can’t waste any more time… I’ll be fine on my own.” With that, the device went silent—Shang had turned off his walkie-talkie, leaving the paladin with a decision of his own to make.
Fortunately for Argento, he didn’t need longer than three seconds to know that he had to return to help his new associate.
Rather than try and win a fight of brute strength, Shang opened his palm and released a blast of fire that caught the Killer across his armored chest. Upon impact, the ball exploded with enough concussive force to kill the other fighter’s momentum, although it didn’t seem to have any other real effect other than singing the both of them.
Even so, Shang managed to pivot and throw his foe away from him. The armored warrior hit the ground with a harsh thud but was quick to roll up to his feet. Before the sorcerer could react, his adversary threw a hand forward and released a shimmering crossbow bolt. A fireball caught the projectile before it could find a mark, but Shang was unable to regain his bearings before the Killer came stampeding across the street. With a thud, the black-haired man tackled the sorcerer to the ground and started to bash him with his armored forearms.
Three blows came and went before Shang was able to properly defend himself, and by then, he could already feel the fresh blood on his skin and taste it throughout his mouth. The delay was enough of a window for the pinned sorcerer to summon a fireball from the wall of a nearby building. His opponent let out a scream as the blast crashed into the side of his head and toppled him over. As the Killer fell away, Shang popped up to his feet and moved to bury his pair of blades into the chest of his angry-eyed adversary.
With a grunt, the sorcerer’s adversary rolled away, avoiding the tarkatan blades as they slammed into the pavement. By the time Shang wrenched them free from the asphalt, he had to twist and throw them up in an ‘X’ to block against the on-coming pair of blades. After the initial block, the Killer grabbed onto his foes weapons and tried to rip them out of Shang’s arms. Feeling stabs of pain as his bones started to splinter under the duress; the sorcerer leaned forward and smashed his boot against his opponent’s shin.
The grip of the Killer relaxed enough for Shang to pull his arms free. As the blades retracted back up into his forearms, he grabbed his longsword and slid it out of its scabbard.
“That won’t save you either,” the other man sneered. He took a step forward and lifted a hand to fire another attack when a gunshot shattered the otherwise still air of the street. With a growl, the Killer hopped backwards as the spot in the street where he’d been standing moments before exploded upward. Ignoring Shang, the black-haired man glared as he looked up at all of the nearby buildings. “What the hell are you doing?” He roared into silence before a second shot clipped the side of his face, causing him to slap a palm against his cheek. His eyes then fell to the bloodied sorcerer, who was just as confused. “I will kill you. She can’t protect you all the time.”
Just like that, the Killer turned around and slipped into an alley, probably intending to avoid being caught in anyone else’s crosshairs.
What the hell is going on?
Before he could respond, a voice issued forth from his walkie-talkie. “You can thank me later.” Shang knew the voice from earlier. It was the same woman who had radioed him at the motel. The sorcerer grabbed the device from his belt and brought it up to his face.
“Want to explain to me what’s going on?”
“Relax. The hospital is up the street.”
The line went dead before Shang had a chance to hurtle more questions at the shooter. With a groan, Shang tucked away the communication device, and although he probably should have taken some time to clean up his face, he set out directly for Alchemilla Hospital.
***
From the other side of the bridge, the paladin had ventured down Sanford Street to what appeared to be a small marina built for both tourists and for the purpose of loading and unloading goods being transferred across the lake or up the river. An assortment of visually pleasing homes lined the north side of the street, and while none of them appeared to be currently inhabited, the paladin did note that most of them didn’t seem to be in a state of advanced neglect.
On the south side of the wide street was a large, two-part building that seemed to be a spot where they would repair equipment or stow any of the goods being taken to and from the lake. As Argento approached the buildings, he spotted the words ‘East and West Garages’ on a metal sign on a pole between the two structures. Prior to the Omniverse, the paladin wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what a ‘garage’ was, but this new world had taught him many strange and fascinating things. As he walked toward the old structure, he knew it was a spot where engineers and laborers fixed ‘machines,’ which mobile pieces of steel and fabric that ran off of sources of fire.
Making his way over to the East Garage, Argento twisted the doorknob and smiled when it opened for him. Once he was over the threshold, he found himself in a large room filled with a bunch of strange equipment he didn’t understand and a vast collection of seemingly dissembled machines. They were the same machines that lined the streets of Silent Hill and came in various shapes and sizes—cars. People in other verses used them for transportation, and while he saw the benefit in the armored boxes, Argento would never want to trade in his horse for one of the strange contraptions. There was no soul in these machines. They didn’t feel… they just existed to do a bunch of mundane purposes. With Maximus at his side in battle or on the field, Argento knew he had a third set of eyes watching out for him (the Sun was an eternal set of second eyes). He’d never feel that way in one of these contraptions of ‘technology’ and ‘science.’
In the back corner of the room, a dying light bulb caught Argento’s attention after a few moments of glancing around the garage floor. The flickering yellow light was behind a stained window labeled ‘Office.’ Striding across the room and maneuvering around all of the abandoned equipment and machine parts, Argento reached the door and slipped inside. The interior of the office was filled with a great deal of clutter, and although the stack of papers on the desk had the appearance of being recently sorted through, the rest of the room was covered in a layer of dust. The shelves were decorated with old books, yellowed magazines, and an assortment of metal statues for something called ‘bowling.’ Whoever the owner was, he was clearly some sort of star athlete in the local leagues.
While the faded, dusted decorates were interesting to look at, Argento couldn’t pry his attention away from the desk for too long. Walking over, the paladin took a seat in the padded chair, which whined as it sank a little to support his armored frame. He wasn’t an academic by any means, but the former farmer could tell that someone had rifled through the contents of this room in the recent past. Many of the papers were newspapers and torn papers from magazines, but what drew Argento’s interest were the half-crumbled documents that detailed what was coming in and out of the docks. Most of it seemed rather pedestrian—food, commercial products, and the occasional piece of machinery.
What eventually drew Argento’s attention was the number of lines that someone had written over with a thick black pen. For some reason, the man in charge of this location didn’t want to leave a legibile record of whatever goods he had received that were destined for a place called ‘Alchemilla Hospital.’
…Wait. The paladin furrowed his brow as he tried to recall his last conversation with the sorcerer. Hadn’t Shang Tsung mentioned something about a hospital before they went their separate ways? With a scowl, Argento reached for the communications device and fumbled with it for a few moments until all the settings were correct. After his finger from the appropriate button, he cleared his throat. “Shang, are you there? This is Argento!” He released the button and listened to the jarring yet somewhat soothing noise that sprayed out of the device. He was about to try once again when the calm, cool voice of his associate sounded through.
“Yes, you are the only one with this frequency… What is it?”
Oblivious to the subtle jabs taken at him, the paladin picked up one of the papers and glanced again for clarity. “Did you say something about traveling to Alchemilla Hospital?”
“Correct, I’m standing outside of it, actually. Where are you?”
“I am outside of town at a spot where that river hits the lake. It’s like a merchant wharf combined with a drydock… I found some papers in the building office, and it appears that whoever ran this place didn’t want anyone to know what was being delivered to your hospital.”
The sorcerer was silent for a few moments. When he finally spoke, there was something almost like joy in his words. “That confirms my suspicions about this place, Argento. There’s definitely something hidden in this place… I know it.”
“Then you should wait for me to return, and we can scour that fel installation side-by-side!”
“I can’t waste any more time… I’ll be fine on my own.” With that, the device went silent—Shang had turned off his walkie-talkie, leaving the paladin with a decision of his own to make.
Fortunately for Argento, he didn’t need longer than three seconds to know that he had to return to help his new associate.
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)