The Sky Is Broken (conditionally open)

[Ter-Thok]

Very few people knew about the enormous Lost Temple Beneath Radasanth. This is, of course, because it is lost. One of the many people who was ignorant of the temple's existance, a group which includes the vast majority of Radasanth's population, was Roscoe Takestuff.

It was a rainy, starless night in the city when the hereditary thief found the City Guard at his heels. All he had done, after all, was break into Mel's Magickal Emporiume in the Bazaar and take a Staff of Invincibility. Hell, it wasn't like the thing actually worked, anyways...whenever Roscoe said the activation phrase, it just made it so no-one could see him.

Note that Roscoe was not to go down as one of history's great intellects.

The pounding of leather boots drew closer, and there was no more alley left to run into. Roscoe turned a corner, saved only from smashing his nose on a brick wall by the fact that he slipped in a puddle. Panicking, the thief ducked into the only route of escape left; an open cellar window.

Roscoe collapsed against the cold cellar wall with relief, sighing, "Oy, 'tis lucky fer me that summun left 'dis 'ere winder op'n."

However, out in the alley, a guard cried, "Come on, lads! He's ducked into this cellar!"

"Shit," the thief muttered. Panic, poison, and gall swelled in his heart, liver, and gallbladder respectively. Running towards a closet on the opposite wall, Roscoe tripped again. Oddly enough, his moleskin galoshes wild kicking elicited a jangle. He reached his scabrous hands towards his scabrous toes, and took hold of a shiny steel ring. Roscoe stood, tugging the ring upwards.

"Cor!" he shouted, in a rather folksy manner, "Is'a trapdoor, what luck!"

Those physicists who argue that the dimensional aspect of time branches at any point a choice is made would, at this stage, begin opining that this event created two universes. In one, the guards managed to break through to the cellar and grab Roscoe before he could dash down the trapdoor and lock it behind him.

However, this is not how it happened.

Roscoe grinned as he slid the bolts back. He wasn't entirely certain why there were seven shiny iron deadbolts on this trapdoor, but Roscoe was never one to question any event that left guards cursing wildly on the other side of six inches of mahogany. His grin faded rapidly, however. Now what? He was in the basement of a cellar, with only a pair of flickering safety lanterns for light, and...stairs? Roscoe's rotten, widely-spaced teeth were twisted into a smile once again as he capered over to the staircase.

It was an old-fashioned stone affair, complete with guttering torches, and it spiraled steeply downwards. The dust and cobwebs were almost impossibly thick; clearly no-one had been down these stairs for generations. Roscoe shrugged, tapping his useless Invincibility Staff against his forehead; it was either mysterious staircase, or a few weeks in the lockup. After what seemed like hours, the thief by genetic misfortune found himself stepping into a cavernous expanse.

It was entirely empty, save for what had to be hundreds of torches, expanding outwards, little points of light revealing a perfectly circular room that seemed to have no floor. It was as if Roscoe was standing on the lip of an enormous funnel; several small staircases in much the same style as the previous one led down the funnel to a large altar, sparkling in gold and gems.
In deference to his vocation, Roscoe's pair of brain cells began clicking together rapidly.

The thief nearly scampered down the staircase closest to him; Roscoe may not have been able to spell, but he could certainly handle math, insomuch as it pertained to cash in his pocket. His teeth chattered with financial passion as the thief's cadaverous fingers caressed rubies embedded into the massive sacrificial stone. The invisibility staff clutched in his other hand tapped gently against the altar, and Roscoe felt it writhe in his hands. It began dissolving, turning to dust. Startled, the thief dropped the staff, only to have it hang in the air where he had held it. The dust began spiralling towards a small drainage hole on the altar-stone.

Terror filled Roscoe's heart once again as the sacrificial slab began sliding off the altar of it's own accord. The thief tried in vain to pull his eyes from the lightless abyss beneath.

Then the eye opened.

---

Ter-Thok, two-foot-eight-inch demon from space, stood in front of the mirror in his starship's bathroom. Yawning slightly, he picked up the belt-sander resting on the sink. The demon scrutinized his visage sleepily for a moment, then shrugged and clicked the power switch on the sander, beginning to run it gently over his right horn. Dust fell into the sink, and after it lightly coated the bottom, was rinsed away. Ter-Thok set the belt-sander down, turned his head slightly to the left, then the right, and smiled at the results of his grooming. Just then came a knock on the airlock door.

Tugging a shirt on over his newly-polished horns, the demon stumbled towards the door; finally getting both arms through the sleeves, he hit the opening switch, revealing the form of an eleven year-old boy, bending down to see through the doorway. "Um, Mr. Thok, I...uhh...I have your paper,"

"Ah, thank you, young...whatever the hell your name is. Now go ride away on your donkey. That bit always cracks me up."

"It's a MULE," the kid said sulkily as he descended the staircase, hopping back on his donkey and galloping on to the next newspaper customer whose residence was outside the city limits by a considerable margin.

"Heheh. Donkey," the demon chuckled, unfurling his paper, "What the shit is this, exactly?"

The headline read "THE SKY IS BROKEN!", with a crude woodcut of clouds with cracks in them. Ter-Thok skimmed the story, then groaned. "Hans! I'm going out to avert a catastrophe. Try not to blow the ship up!"

The seven-foot crimson ooze peeked around the corridor, shouting after his employer, "BOSS BE BACK FOR DINNER! HANS MAKING WHATEVER DA HELL HANS FIND CRUSHED UNNER LANDIN' GEAR AU GRATIN!"

---

The streets of Radasanth were packed tight, as usual. However, now there was a central locus to the bizarrely still crowd. Ter-Thok shoved his way through, a feisty little ball of jabbing elbows and crushing hooves, not to mention crotch-height horns. "Alright," he shouted, "What's all this then, come on now, let me through you bunch of retards...oh."

Having finally pushed through the crowd, Ter-Thok was resigned to staring directly upwards, as were all those around him. For above them all was a circle approximately fifteen feet across where the blue of the sky receded and the unchecked majesty of the universe was visible as constellations twinkled softly in the ether beyond.

"Sweet shit," the demon whispered, completely failing to notice the lone asphyxiated corpse lying on the ground directly beneath the ring.

(See recruitment thread - http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=33741#post33741 - if you're interested! And who wouldn't be with this...COMPELLING SERIES OF EVENTS!)

[Breaker]

Next to the bar, there was a brewery.
It was a convenient arrangement for both parties. A thick steel pipe flowed from the latter to the former, depositing a steady, cheap quantity of ale straight into the bar's draft kegs. But a bar could not possibly operate on ale alone. There was also imported ale, brought in massive barrels on wheels towed by teams of mules from everywhere in Althanas. There were expensive wines, made by the elves in Raiaera from grapes and fruit. There were the highly potent dwarf spirits couriered from the great mining town of Kachuk. There were even rumors of strange flying machines delivering bottles of a strange green, glowing liquid from the dark elves in Alerar. And of course, there was a sufficient supply of moonshine delivered from the moonshiners on the outskirts of Radasanth every fourth day of the month, just for Originality's sake. It was a fine bar, with many regular customers and employees. Many were the days when the interior would be crowded with passerby, seeking to wet their proverbial whistles with a drop of this or that, while escaping the dust and bustle of the streets. On the day the sky was broken, there was a stranger from another planet occupying the bar. This stranger, in an amazing display of drinking, had put to serious use all of the aforementioned brands of alcohol.

~~~~~~~~~~

Joshua Cronen was seated on a barstool with a half full mug of cheap ale in front of him, willing himself to finish the coarse beverage. Originality himself, the owner of Originality's Tavern, was about five meters away, polishing a glass and keeping two equally wary eyes on the earthman who had already consumed a Herculean amount of alcohol. A short moment later, the glass he was polishing was added to a shining stack atop the sleek polished oak counter. It ran nearly half the length of the bar, contrasting the dull grey floor tiles below in a pleasant way. Behind the bar was a versatile array of bottles, each containing a different liquid. Directly opposite and parallel to the grey floor tiles was the bar's ceiling, which was lined with dusty mirrors, in which patrons might catch a blurry glimpse of themselves. Whether the blurriness was due to the dust on the mirrors or the alcohol in the patrons was anyone's guess, but most of them were too drunk to care anyway. The red brick walls were covered in large dangling lanterns and barred-glass windows, allowing for decent lighting during the day and night. Although most of the booths and tables were occupied by well-paying customers, the line of barstools was empty, with the exception of the one at the far left end, which had a fireproofed gore-tex backpack on it. On the floor next to the stool with the backpack lay Joshua Cronen. He was fully conscious, but presently unaware that he had overbalanced while trying to scratch the small of his back, and thus fallen from his stool. Two seconds later, he realized his predicament, and commented on it.

"Ouchsch."
"Alright you... that's it. Get out of my bar and get some fresh air, or go home and sleep it off. Y'know what? I don't even care. Just get out of my bar."

Josh rolled onto his back and stared fixedly at his blurry reflection. Next to it, he could see the bartender Originality, who was equally angry and blurry. Whether this was due to the dust on the mirror or his drunkenness was beyond Josh, and frankly, he didn't care. It seems unlikely, however, that the dust on the mirror would have caused anyone to become as angry as Originality plainly was. With one big, meaty hand, he grabbed the collar of Josh's shirt and lifted the intoxicated earthman to his feet. Once he was there, Josh balanced fairly well, probably due to the approximate symmetry of the left and right sides of his body. The bartender then put the gore-tex backpack in Josh's hand, and watched the Special Agent slide it onto his shoulder out of habit. A gentle shove got Josh going in the right direction, and eleven seconds later, he was out of the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~

For Originality's sake, Josh decided to be a docile drunk and headed away from the Tavern. His steps were of uneven length, and he staggered and weaved at complete random. Small depressions in the road which he normally would not have noticed caused him to overbalance and nearly fall constantly, and in his foggy mind he thought he must look something like a tightrope walker. He didn't. Instead, he looked like a wilting, pathetic drunk.

"Hey Mommy, look! A wilting pathetic drunk!" A small boy pointed and called from the edge of large, shady looking building.
"Andrew, that's terrible! Have I taught you nothing about pointing? Your form is way off, not to mention that you're pointing with the wrong finger and your elbow is bent. Here, let me show you."

Josh stagger-skipped away from the pointing parent and boy duo towards a large crowd of people who had gathered in the middle of the street. Josh had begun drinking that day in order to attempt to forget that he was stranded on an Alien planet, surrounded by strangers and primitive life. In his current state, though, he fit in with the average Radasanthian remarkably well. The Agent intended to stop at the edge of the crowd, but found it difficult to stop his forward momentum. He was fairly tall, broad shouldered and well muscled, with the result that he easily (although accidentally) moved through the tightly packed people. He was beginning to enjoy the sensation of bouncing off others, when suddenly he found himself in the small clearing in the middle of the crowd. An instant later, he was falling. Just before he hit the ground, he was aware that the reason he had fallen was a strange pain in his leg. Once, while climbing over a fence, he had grazed his thigh on a piece of barbed wire. This pain felt exactly like that one had, but why anyone would build a barbed wire fence on top of a small red demon's head was beyond him. At that moment, he hit the ground, and upon rolling slightly, found that he was not the only one on the ground. Remarking upon the fact that TWO people had fallen in the exact same place, Josh tapped the prone form next to him on the face in order to begin discussing this new phenomenon. When the tap received no reaction, Josh leaned over and looked into the corpse's eyes. They were cold and staring, which brought sudden realization to the Special Agent that it was, in fact, a corpse. He got up and tried to stagger away from it, but fell down and settled for recoiling slightly. Looking up at the people around him, he mumbled;

"Shomebody callde cops... I think thish guy ish dead!"

[Sheex]

Sheex moaned in pain as he stumbled out of the shower for what must have been the third time this morning. It was a pity that after every previous shower Sheex had opted to fall back asleep rather than face the world, but the aching pain in his head had put up a rather persuasive argument. Not this time though. This time Sheex swore he’d face the world and actually leave this dirty little hotel room. However, by the time Sheex had dressed himself and combed his hair, he promptly collapsed on his bed. Well, he tried to collapse on his bed. Instead, he missed and ended up on the floor moaning in pain.

Hangovers were such a pain in the ass.

“This so isn’t fair! I didn’t even drink that much! At least, I think I didn’t drink that much. It’s all kinda hazy right now.” Sheex said to himself as he grabbed the edge of the bed and yanked himself up, which had the added affect of intensifying the pain in his head. Woozily, Sheex looked over at the sole small table that occupied the room and noticed there was still a half filled bottle of whiskey sitting there.

“It’s your fault you know. Why do you have to taste so good?” Sheex asked the bottle with a frown on his face as he took a small sip of the drink. Sheex’s face quickly contorted into a look of pain as he dropped the bottle, spit out the whiskey, and once again collapsed to the floor.

“Man! You taste like crap! I can’t believe I drank that stuff!” Sheex cursed as he got back up and stumbled over to the window. At this moment the window was closed, but due to the rather poor setting of the room Sheex could still here the murmurs of the crowd outside the small inn. When he opened the window in order to air out the alcohol smelling room, the noise only intensified, as did the man’s headache.

“Shut up, shut up, and shut up! Certain drunks are trying to recover from a hangover!” He screamed out the window to no avail. The crowd simply ignored him and continued to talk about something that was just out of Sheex’s eyesight. Irritated and intrigued at the same time, Sheex yanked his coat off the only chair in the entire room and quickly donned the piece of clothing as he began to head outside. He was fairly certain a little fresh air would help his current predicament.

“Another drunk with another hangover. I told you we should have stayed at the other inn.” A snobbish woman whispered to her husband as Sheex stumbled to the inn’s exit. Never one to pass up a challenge, Sheex shot the couple a cool grin and ran a hand through his hair.

“Lady, I may have a hangover today, but in a day or so I will be fine. In a day or so, however, you will still be ugly.” Sheex spat as the woman gasped and the man muttered something about Sheex’s level of class. Having proved his point, Sheex decided to ignore the two and headed outside.

Clutching his head, which was sadly not doing any better, Sheex made his way through the rather large crowd that had gathered together. However, it wasn’t exactly very easy to find a path through the group of people, which was a lesson Sheex had finally managed to learn after about three elbows to his ribs and one slap in the face. Sheex had thought the slap rather unnecessary. In his current condition Sheex didn’t feel that it was fair to blame him for where his hands found themselves.

“So much trouble just to see what everyone is staring at. I swear, somebody better have died or something.” Sheex muttered to himself as he pushed his way through the ever-increasing crowd. When he finally reached a point where he could see what all the talk was about (a process which only earned him more elbows to the rib), Sheex cursed violently and shook his hand towards the sky.

“Oh come on! If I had said a beautiful, half-naked woman with a sex-drive of a nymphomaniac would you have granted me that?” Sheex asked whichever God was watching from above, although he had to stop shaking his fist when he caught a glimpse of what he was actually yelling at. It seemed like a big part of the sky was missing. Even in Sheex’s current state he was able to realize such a drastic change in his surroundings.

“Damn it. I knew I should’ve stayed in bed this morning.” Was all Sheex could say.

[Ter-Thok]

Ter-Thok grunted, pulling a scrap of fabric off of his horn; he'd never understand why, exactly, when humans found out that ethanol would make them stumble around like hairy, lobotomized weevils, they immediately resolved to consume as much as possible. Whatever. The demon pushed aside a baker, who was rather uncharacteristically thin, and reached down to poke the body. Ignoring the drunken moron, he held his hand over the corpse, flexing his fingers for a few moments. Something in the texture felt...different.

Ter-Thok muttered something, then clapped his hands over the dead body; there was no sound. "Listen, Drinky Dreyfuss, you're awful damn lucky you moved away from this dead guy. There's no...er...there's no air. In this circle thing. It's just a big vacuum; and if ANYONE makes a joke about cleaning apparatuses, I will break every bone in their body. Not that any of you would, seeing as how you all clean with...like...bones with feathers tied to them," The demon shrugged, nudged the body again, and knelt down. His fingers scrabbled at the cobblestones, trying to find a seam that would reveal some kind of machine creating this pillar of emptiness.

Finally, Ter-Thok stood, perplexed. There wasn't a machine. It was just...there. It, of course, being nothing. He stepped back, remarking, "This...is scientifically impossible. I mean, you could use like, a gravity thingy, but it wouldn't work through the ground, and if you did it from orbit, then you'd crack the landmass in two..." The crowd had actually begun to disperse a bit; people gave the circle in the sky hand signs meant to ward off evil, then slunk away. The demon took no notice of this, however, as he examined the rip in the sky.

"Anybody have the slightest idea what could damage the very nature of physics?" he inquired, with just a twinkle of hopelessness, "...Anyone?"

[Breaker]

"How did he know my nickname was drinky dreyfuss?"
It's not, stupid. He called you that because you're drunk.
"How did I get so drunk?"
Drinking too much, I imagine.
"How did that little red furbie learn to talk?"
Umm...

As Ter-Thok examined the predictably lifeless corpse on the ground, Josh pursued a swift but meaningful argument between his extremely intoxicated conscious mind, and his sarcastic subconscious. Eventually, the subconscious got fed up and left, leaving Josh swaying slightly and wondering why exactly he was standing in the middle of a large group of people. His knees buckled, but superior muscle buildup and well honed reflexes kept him up, staggering silghtly. "I guess I'd better sit down before I fall down." He thought, finally summoning a practical piece of advice. It was at that moment, however, that he realized he was already sitting down, about two feet from where the horned red demon was busy mumbling over the body.

With his head spinning restlessly and his stomach pirhouetting in the opposite direction, Josh struggled to maintain clear vision, to see what was in front of him. He focused on the demon's well groomed horns, clinging to the simple objects until finally his eyes managed to dispell the black dots which had been gathering in front of them. After taking several deep breaths, and then several more, he decided his vision was doing OK, so made an attempt at hearing. At first, everything was just a distorted buzz, but eventually he sorted through the various sounds, just in time to hear Ter-Thok mention physics.

Perking up as much as was possible in his present condition at the mention of something at least slightly related to technology, Josh leaned forward and reached out to tap the demon on the shoulder. His hand missed by several inches, and he insteady contented himself with calling out his help.

"I... ..." Having been about to introduce himself, Josh decided that his name was somewhat irrelevant to the situation, and instead offered his expertise.

"I... know some... physics."

[Sheex]

Maybe it was the alcohol running through Sheex's system, maybe it was the aching pain in his head. But, Sheex was pretty sure the little demon was onto something. A vacuum eh? If, per say, I created a cleaning apparatus that instead of using feathers stored all the dirt into a bag of sorts...I could be rich! Yes, I could call it Sheex's New And Improved Cleaning Utensil! Why, it would clean ten, no, twenty times faster than a dust broom! Sheex gently stroked his chin as he continued to plot his get rich quick scheme, but eventually shook his head.

“Ah, who am I kidding? A cleaning utensil that vacuums up dirt would never catch on. Besides, I’d probably just spend the money on booze anyway.” Said Sheex in a soft voice. Adjusting his coat, Sheex turned his attention back towards the dead body, and apparently a section of the planet with a huge gaping void (for a lack of a better word).

“Physics you say my little horned friend? Well it just so happens that I know…nothing at all about such things.” Sheex said with a slight chuckle as he quickly swished his right hand back and forth over the dead body. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to accomplish, but it wasn’t as if the body before him could have much worse happen to it. Sighing as absolutely nothing changed, Sheex stuck his hands back into his pockets as he stared upwards.

“Well, I suppose it could be magic. I hear there’s some freaky wizards running about nowadays. Ultimate doomsday spells and what not. Or maybe it's some sort of evil curse over a horde of treasure. I hear those are popular nowadays as well.” As he finished speaking Sheex gently kicked a pebble over towards the dead body, managing to expertly land it right next to the dead man’s head. Investigating mysteries was not exactly Sheex’s favorite past time, but he figured he needed something to keep his mind off his current headache.

“Guess the next logical move is to search the body. If you’re really interested about finding out just what happened here.” As Sheex reached forward he noticed the pale look of death that eventually appeared over every dead body and he slowly pulled his hand back.

“But, uh, I’m not big on disturbing the dead. You wanna go first, my little demonic pal?”

[Ter-Thok]

"Once again," Ter-Thok lamented, "I roll the dice, and they come up douchebags. Thanks, guys. Glad I've got a couple of porkbellied rumjobs who're too wasted to stagger away here to help me," The demon scratched the back of his head irritably, trying to think. This kind of thing was always annoying for him; he could face down monsters, Celestials, mad space pirates, even the shambling undead. But put Ter-Thok in front of a more passive metaphysical or supernatural phenomenon, and he tended to get pissed off.

The demon finally shrugged; whatever. He'd go with it. Obviously, no-one else was interested in doing anything about this...hole in the sky besides himself, the sloshed semi-scientist, and the moron who'd suggested searching the body. Hm...well, maybe there would be a reward involved in "fixing the sky". It could work out. "Okay, here's the deal, douchebags. If you're interested in a life of adventure and heroism, y'know, a life you can be proud of, then help me figure out how this...collossal cosmic clusterfuck occured,"

With a shrug, Ter-Thok reached down and picked up a loose cobblestone. He hefted it in his hand for a few moments, then tossed it into the vacuum. It fell soundlessly to the ground within the perimeter. "See, that's also impossible," the demon complained, "Even if the first thing was possible, it should at least, like...launch whatever's in there out into space. Geez," Ter-Thok took a deep breath, his chest puffing slightly as his trio of lungs filled with air. The demon leapt into the circle of emptiness, pulling the corpse's legs over his shoulders and dragging him slowly, too slowly, out of the ring. Ter-Thok collapsed, panting like a whipped walrus; his face had paled slightly, and he had begun punching himself in the stomach to get the diaphragm moving again.

"Okay, you, the first, drunk guy," he managed at last, "Rifle through his pockets. I think he was, like, a banker or something. He has the moustache,"

[Breaker]

"Josh! Damn it, you damn alcoholic!"
At the sound of his name, Josh twisted around awkwardly on the ground, and saw the extremely blurry figures of his only two friends on Althanas rushing towards him. Shard, a short man who always carried a variety of daggers which he could throw with incredible accuracy was slightly ahead of Ash, a young enchantress who specialized in healing magic. Josh tried to smile, but wasn't sure if he succeeded, because he couldn't feel his face. In another instant they were at his side, and Ash's small, cool hands cupped his face, perhaps more roughly than necessary, but he didn't midn, because his face was numb. Through a coarse buzzing sound, Josh heard Ash say;
"Hold him up... I can fix this." Her hands tightened on the Agent's head momentarily, and for a moment, he felt blissfully at peace with the world. Then all traces of the alcohol he had consumed vanished; without dehydration or hangover. However, he also came down from a fantastic buzz to being dead sobre. The emotional result was something like being told your mother and grandmother just killed each other in a fight to the death.
"I want to die." Josh stated.
"Watch him, Shard." As the knife thrower helped Josh to his feet and consoled him, Ash approached Ter-Thok. She crouched down with him, next to the body, and stared at it intently.

"I can feel some sort of power radiating from this spot. That's how we found the place... I figured Josh would be wherever the disturbance was. Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Ash. My friend over there is Shard, and the big drunken idiot is Josh. He's not normally like this... but anyway, in a few minutes he should have calmed down enough to help. He knows lots of strange... things." Ash held out her hand to shake, still examining the corpse with a look of mild distaste.

Josh was feeling better by the second, and estimated that in another minute or two, he would be able to stand without Shard's help. He had given up trying to snatch one of his friend's daggers to slash his own throat, and was now just leaning on the shorter man, watching Ash at work. It amazed him that she could adjust to any situation so well, taking a dead body killed by some unseen power, as well as the strange little red creature, all in stride like it happened every day.

[Sheex]

“I’ll have you know, I’m more of a jackass than a douchebag, thank you very much. And I’m not wasted. It’s a mild hangover. Well, maybe a bit more than mild, but I’m far from wasted. Sadly.” Sheex responded to the demon as the horned beast dashed into the small void within the planet. Sheex watched with mild amusement as the demon returned out of breath dragging the corpse behind him.

“Hope you didn’t tire yourself out there Spikey. It’s important not to over-exert yourself nowadays. Wouldn’t want you to drop dead. Nope. No way. Don’t, in anyway, collapse in pain and agony.” Sheex said sarcastically as he turned his attention towards the other man, who was completely wasted. Or at least the man hand had been. Now some lady was waving his hand over him, apparently making the drunk sober by the second. Well that’s not very fun. Now if that magic could be used to get rid of a hangover, then that broad would be onto something!

“You know Spikey, I’m not big on the whole hero thing, but I’ll admit you’ve got my interest. It’s not every day a demon, a drunk, a drunk who has now moved onto the hangover stage, and a babe all have the fortune to meet next to a hole in the sky. Let’s see what we got here.” Sheex said as he walked towards the corpse and quickly yanked out the contents of the man’s pockets.

“Ugh. Rifling through the pockets of a dead guy. This was so not what I wanted to be doing today. Well, here’s his wallet. Guess that’s the best place to start.” Sheex muttered as several objects left the man’s pockets and scattered across the dirt below. Sheex quickly snatched up the rather large leather object that he had assumed was a wallet and tossed it towards the demon, who at this point was talking towards the woman who had shown up. Sheex figured if he was lucky, he could land the wallet right between the demon’s horns and on his forehead.

“Heads up Spikey!” Sheex shouted as he took careful aim and let the wallet fly through the air.

[Ter-Thok]

The demon, having recovered his ability to process oxygen and keep himself alive, gladly shook the woman's proferred hand. "Nice to meet you...Ash," Ter-Thok responded, resisting the urge to replace the shush with a double-s, "I'm Ter-Thok. Demon from space, not wherever the hell you people think demons come from. Usually I don't go in for this...
'solving mysteries' thing, but this is...y'know. Impossible. And I know science, so yeah, there ya go,"

The demon stood up, and was about to begin shouting at the man he had instructed to rummage through the dead man's pockets, when something leathery hit him in the face with an upsetting, wet noise. It slid down his face slower than a robot down a waterslide, then squelched onto the ground. "I'm pretty sure this isn't a wallet, amigo," he muttered as he nudged the object with a hoof, "Looks more like a...like some kind of bladder. Plus, it's leaking...did you pull this out of a wound?"

Pushing aside his disgust, Ter-Thok grabbed the leathery thing, feeling the unusually dry surface. Some kind of milky, orange-hued fluid dripped from an enormous seam along the side. With a shrug, the demon opened the sac, and a cloud of some kind of steam emerged, and along with it, the Smell.

The only way to possibly describe it was with a capital 's'. The Smell expanded outwards. "Oh sweet shit, it's horrible!" Ter-Thok shouted, automatically tossing the bag of vaguely organic horrors towards the woman he had so recently shaken hands with.

-------

Far below the city, in darkness pock-marked only by the ring of torches along it's perimeter, something stirred. There was a sound heard by no-one, a sort of scratchy, leathery sound which seemed to imply that whatever it was was moving back toward the center of the enormous chamber, back toward the enshrined sarcophagus. There was a popping sound; something wet and terrible rubbed against the crypt.

Another eye opened.

[Breaker]

((Sorry it took me so long to post. Thokky, if you don't like what I write here, tell and I'll change it... just trying to move the plot a little.))

Under the kind counsel of his good friend Shard, Josh soon managed to find his way around the suicidal tendencies which had appeared along with his sobriety. In under a minute he regained the ability to stand unassisted, and began to feel extremely foolish. He could not remember most of what had happened since he had started drinking, but figured it was safe to assume he had done some very stupid, embarassing things. Having come to this conclusion, he tried to look sheepish, so that anyone watching would think he felt bad about doing whatever he had forgotten he had done.

What little he could remember about the corpse was extremely troubling. Kneeling, he edged towards the body, noticed the total lack of air and retreated, gasping. After bobbing around a bit, he found that he could examine the corpse at arm's length. He did a thorough head to toe examination, searching the body for any distinguishing marks or other injuries. There were none, aside from the normal cuts and bruises the average Althanian might have, and the man's fingernails and hands did not show any signs of defensive wounds. Stumped, Josh looked to Ash to see if she had figured anything out. As he glanced up, Ter-Thok tossed the pouch.

Catching the scent on a slight zephyr, Josh winced and turned his face away, watching Ash in facination out of the corner of his eye. The enchantress examined the putrid purse without the slightest indication of discomfort. Opening it up wider, she glanced inside, and then did the seemingly impossible, wafting the air slightly and inhaling deep through her nose. Immediately, her mouth dropped open in shock, and her eyes rolled back in her head. As if possesed her head lolled back, uttering gutteral sounds, and her feet rose several inches off the ground as though some invisible giant had lifted her by the head. The bag dropped from her hand and landed open upon the ground. Josh hastily stepped on it, trapping it shut so that no more of the horrific smell could escape. Ash had risen off the ground just enough so her head was about level with his. Utterly confused, he reached out and gently tried to push her back down, slapping her cheek lightly. Neither had any effect. She continued her odd levitation, the sun shining off the whites of her eyes and satanic mumbling rising from her throat.

"Ash! NO!"

Shard had rushed forward as soon as the bag hit the ground, and gripped the woman around the waist, trying to pull her to the earth. Finding he could not. Frantically, the blade slinger gestured towards Ter-Thok

"You, demon guy... can you do anything to help her?"

((Feel free to take this wherever you want, if it inspires you. Just don't kill my NPCs, I need them :P))

[Sheex]

(Sorry it took so long. My computer isn't exactly healthy at the moment.

Ha. Two points. Sheex thought to himself as his projectile hit it’s target dead on. Sheex was tempted to laugh loudly, but you could never be sure of demons. For all he knew, the little horned demoned that stood before him could for all intensive purposes be a soulless beast whose sole purpose was to claim the souls of anyone who dared to cross its path. Sheex felt it was a better idea to simply play it safe and smile at the situation.

That was until the demon pointed out that what Sheex had just touched may have very well been an organ. Instantly Sheex looked down at his hands, only to find them covered with a thin coat of…something. Whatever it was, it was slimy and Sheex instantly decided he would feel much better with his hands clean. Cursing, he wiped the slime off on the dead man’s pants.

“Note to self, check where you take objects from next time. Can’t believe I just did that.” Sheex muttered to himself as he scanned his hands. When he was satisfied, he turned back towards the group only to immediately wrinkle his nose as the demon opened whatever Sheex had handed him, only to release one of the most foul-smelling clouds of gas Sheex had ever smelt. Instantly Sheex was on the floor gagging.

“Oh for Christ sake! It smells like some sort of burnt…well, there’s a lady present so I’d better not say. Use your imagination.” Sheex muttered as he turned to look at previously mentioned lady, who at this point had her head rolled back and was slightly levitating.

“And as if today wasn’t weird enough, now I’m staring at a floating chick. Great. Just freaking great. Well demon dude, looks like you’re up. This one’s beyond my skills.” Sheex muttered as he picked up a small rock and casually tossed it up and down.

“Course, if your methods fail, we could always just try to smack her out of her daze. Worked on you, didn’t it?” Sheex said as he continued to stare at the floating woman. He had seen many different things as he had crossed the vast plains of Althanas, and a floating woman wasn’t exactly that out of the ordinary. Of course, it wasn’t exactly completely ordinary either.

“Your up my little horn friend. Knock ‘em dead.”