Eliminate Specimens (Syril)

[The Judicator]

Mission Name: Eliminate Specimens

Suggested Level: Apprentice-Spell Caster

Format: Turns

Sign-Up
1.Syril

Scenario:
A small lab that was experimenting with genetic mutations experienced a breakout, and four of their creations are loose in the city. They asked the Academy for help, and as usual, Halsephea was eager to give out the task.

Mission:
Destroy the specimens.

= = = = = = = = =
Begin your mission in the city, following a map Halsephea gave you to find the lab. (It's underground. It's accessed by using a "broken down" elevator in the movie theater. Enter the code 277654 on the panel to decend to the lab floor. Remember, they had a break out of genetic creatures.)

[Syril Ænari]

Syril inhaled deeply, enjoying the cool air despite the inevitable pollution which was present in every major city on earth--even this one, high above the clouds. It was a mere week since Syril had arrived upon the floating island of Babylos, and yet here he was now, trotting happily but noiselessly down an abandoned street in the dead of night, on his first solo mission as a student of the Arcane Academy.

Truly, the faculty were too kind.

Syril had been summoned by one of the teachers, a large demon by the name of Halsephea, earlier that day. Syril had been initially taken aback by his superior's appearance--he had never met a demon before--but he adjusted quickly, and was briefed on the mission's details. Apparently, a secret underground laboratory had been experimenting with genetic mutation, and had quickly discovered that their security measures were inadequate. Hence, the duty of eliminating those threats which had escaped containment now fell to the Academy, and in turn was passed down to Syril. The green eyed boy of 19 was more than happy to oblige; what could be more fun than searching and destroying?

Halting briefly at the next corner, Syril glanced about to make sure he was truly alone, before reaching into one of his flared sleeves and producing a neatly rolled piece of paper. Unrolling it, Syril glanced down at the now exposed map, illuminated by the glow of a nearby street lamp. Eyes quickly scanning the paper, before rising once more to meet the large sign of the movie theater across the street. His destination.

Crossing quietly, Syril made his way up to the twin sets of double doors, reaching out and trying the knob of the nearest. Locked. Well, that was to be expected. Looking about, Syril considered his options. The doors were glass, but breaking in would cause unwanted commotion. He would have to pick the lock, but he hadn't brought a hairpin or anything that could be used to accomplish this task--or had he? Sighing contentedly, Syril placed a single finger upon the lock, closed his eyes, and concentrated, whispering a single word.

"Valdi."

At the tip of that finger, a crackling orb of emerald mana flared into life. Then, Syril's eyes snapped open, and the mana dissipated into the air with a soft puff, imbuing the surrounding air molecules and leaving no trace but the very slight glow of mana emanating from Syril's body. Concentrating once again, Syril focused upon the minute volume of air contained within the lock, coalescing it into a solid mold of its container, before rotating the makeshift key and disengaging the lock with a soft click. Syril grinned to himself; most of his techniques had established properties, but that didn't mean he couldn't improvise when he wanted to. Relaxing and releasing his Valdi, Syril turned the knob and entered the building.

Walking past the abandoned ticket counter and darkened snack bar, Syril glanced down at the map again, confirming his target; the elevators up ahead, specifically the one decorated with a prominent "Out of Order" sign. Smiling as usual, Syril gently removed the sign, before pressing the up arrow on the panel nearby. It was the only option; supposedly, this was the bottom floor. As expected, the elevator door opened. Stepping inside, Syril turned around to face the panel containing the numbered keys which correlated with the different floors of the movie theater. There were seven altogether; it was quite a large place, actually. Wasting no time, Syril glanced down at his map one last time to confirm the code before punching in the numbers in order; 2, 7, 7, 6, 5, 4.

The elevator whirred into life once more, the doors closed, and it began it's descent. Syril's smile widened; his information had not been faulty. For what seemed a very long time, the elevator descended; then finally, the car came to a stop, and the doors opened once again. Syril had to blink several times as the elevator was flooded with light, a drastic change from the dimly lit theater up above. Once he regained his sight, Syril surveyed his surroundings, revealing a pristine white room, presumably the laboratory's entryway. So this was where it had all happened. Stepping out of the elevator, Syril chanced a low call, testing whether or not the lab was occupied:

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

[The Judicator]

*The lab is in extremely bad shape. It is small, only about the size of an apartment room. There are large fluid filled tubes for keeping specimens, but at the moment, four of the five are broken open. There are three lab technicians who are busy cleaning, but stop when you enter. You see that they are moping up blood.

One approaches you.*

"Thank goodness. Are you from The Academy? Did Halsephea send you?" He asked hurridly, his balding head showing enormous amounts of sweat.

[Syril Ænari]

Now that his eyes had adjusted fully to the sudden brightness, Syril could make out what bad condition the room he had entered was really in; equipment cracked and broken, floor awash with preservative slime and gore. Syril trod gingerly through the shallow muck, making his way quickly to the main room of the lab to be greeted with a scene one might expect from an old-fashioned horror film. On the far wall, five large cylindrical glass tanks stood, four of them shattered and leaking their contents onto the floor. At least that explained the mess, Syril thought to himself grimly; but his face retained the usual smile, the perfect picture of calm and confidence.

Among the rubble three lab technicians worked busily with mops, scrubbing the floor free of an all-too-familiar viscous red liquid. One of them, the nearest, had looked up at Syril's call, and now approached him hurriedly, looking as if he'd seen the devil himself and babbling questions at breakneck pace. Syril, being of rather slight stature, smiled coolly back up at him, attempting to project a calming presence and put the nervous man at ease. After all, he was the figure of authority now.

"Yes and yes, good sir. I hear you've been having a spot of trouble with some errant experiments; let me assure you that I am here to assist in any way possible."

Syril responded in his usual florid manner, graciously extending a hand. The scientist who had spoken was clearly nearing a state of panic, and Syril was doing everything in his power to keep him coherent. He would need the information this man had to provide if he was to carry out his duties as a representative of the Academy.

[The Judicator]

*The scientist eyed you with a skeptical look. With a sigh, he turned and rejoined the others, his hurried attitude faded away.*

"I hope Halsephea knew what he was doing when he signed you on to this job..." The man began. "This is not going to be easy for you...*

*He approached the last intact tube and looked inside, a creature suspended in the fluid. It was human-like, but had hands of long, bone blades instead of fingers. It's face had no mouth, and it's eyes were squinted shut. It's feet resembled those of a lizard more than a man, and the skin of the creature was leathery.*

"It's called a Kraokin... We were making them as city defence incase of powerful wizards and such. But, the breakout happened in their weakened stage... At least we were lucky in that respect. The four broke out, killed two scientists, and escaped through the vents, and outside. All we know is that they are still in the theater... So please, try and deal with these things away from civilians..." He finished, turning back to you. "We have a spare 9mm... Do you need it?" He asked, offering you a 9mm pistol.

[Syril Ænari]

Syril dropped his unaccepted arm without a second thought and listened to the scientist's words with rapt attention, pleasantly surprised at the man's sudden change of demeanor, following behind him and observing the fifth remaining specimen with a careful eye. The creature was reptilian in appearance, but retained a number of distinctly humanoid characteristics; it made one wonder as to what the nature of these experiments was, but it was not Syril's place to inquire. Rather, he was here to clean up after the scientists' mistakes.

At any rate, the form of the specimen's mutations indicated a creature best suited for close combat, if the blades affixed to its arms were anything to judge by. Syril could probably deal with that, but nothing was certain when it came to genetic mutation. At the offer of a gun, Syril laughed and shook his head, waving the scientist off with a casual flick of the wrist.

"I thank thee, but that shan't be necessary; I am... unaccustomed to the use of such modern firearms. Nonetheless, you needn't worry for my sake--I'm quite capable of looking out for myself."

It was not stated with any contempt or condescension, but as simple fact; Syril honestly didn't know how to use a gun, but he was certain he would be able to make do. A few questions came to mind concerning the nature of the beasts though, and Syril was quick to voice them:

"Have you any other information of which I should be aware? How they fight? What their weaknesses are, what sorts of locations they prefer?"

[The Judicator]

*The scientist sighed inwardly, and pocketed the gun. He eyed the creature in the vat, then turned to you.*

"Their skin is leathery, and hard to pierce. Those blades aren't attached... Those ARE it's arm bones, jutting out from the skin. Their legs are powerful, able to send them leaping quite high and far. One good thing though... The liquid in the vats is flammable. Since they're still covered in it, they will burn easily." He turns to you. "Also, the creatures like the dark. Since it's day, and the theater lights are still running, they will find a dark place until night. Try the storeroom. This elevator can reach it by going up to the top level. Be careful though..."

[Syril Ænari]

Syril listened closely, and nodded, mentally recording every piece of information the scientist divulged. He was going to have to make careful note of everything if he expected to emerge victorious from the upcoming battle; a major component of combat was intelligence, after all. Syril wasn't sure how he was going to take advantage of the creatures' weakness to fire, however; perhaps he would think of something...

As the scientist finished speaking, Syril grinned once more and gave an elegant bow, bolstering the scientists' morales with one last show of confidence.

"I thank thee once again. I shall hence forth, and exterminate these pests; worry not, for I shall prove true to my word. I bid thee adieu, and I shall return once this task is accomplished."

Turning on his heel, Syril made his way quickly but carefully across the slippery ground to the elevator, the skirt of his robe fluttering in his wake. Approaching the metal doors, Syril punched the button to open the door, stepped inside, and sought the panel upon which the other controls were located. The scientist had recommended the store room, and stated that it was located on the "top level;" thus, Syril pressed the button marked 7, and leaned back with a smile as the elevator whirred into life. Much combat was in store for him, and Syril intended to enjoy it as much as possible.

[The Judicator]

*When the doors open, you see a great deal of darkness. The room seems vast, but your view of a lot of it is obstructed by boxes upon boxes. There is very little light, but enough to see a trail of the flammable liquid going off into the dark. You don't hear anything.*

[Syril Ænari]

Servos whirred and metal clunked as the twin elevator doors opened upon the darkened seventh story. Without immediately leaving the car, Syril peered out into the darkness, listening intently but hearing nothing, and observing only the vague outlines of wooden crates stacked in haphazard piles. Those, and the telltale droplets of viscous liquid extending away into the darkness from a nearby ventilation shaft.

Eyes narrowing, yet with sly smile still firmly affixed to his face, Syril stepped lightly out of the elevator and allowed the doors to close behind him. Quickly formulating a plan, Syril stepped sideways--not directly following the trail as was the obvious thing to do, but skirting around the edge of the room, stepping over boxes where necessary, taking pains so as not to expose his back to an opponent of unknown location while still keeping an eye on the clue he had been presented with. In this fashion, Syril would follow the trail of slime to wherever it led; unless of course, he met with adversity before then. In which case he would be prepared.

[The Judicator]

*As you slowly walk and hug the wall, you eventually come to the doorway which the liquid trail passed through. You hear a faint, clicking sound, the kind of sound something living makes. Whatever is making that sound is in the next room.*

[Syril Ænari]

Continuing on his path around the perimeter of the room, Syril eventually came across a doorway leading into an adjoining room, through which the trail led. Taking a few steps closer, Syril suddenly froze as a distinctive sound became audible; a sort of clicking, skittering sound, akin to that of a large insect. Evidently, the first of his targets was located in the next room.

Syril took a moment to weigh his options. Given the circumstances, there were very few; The exact location of his target relative to himself was not known, and he was still unsure of whether the creature in the next room really was his target at all; there was always the chance that some poor custodian was fiddling with some piece of machinery at this late hour, however slim it was. Syril would require visual evidence before taking any drastic action. However, there was one thing he could do to ensure that the being in the next room remained unaware of his presence.

Concentrating, Syril channeled his mana and released it into the air, activating his field of influence. This made no noise and resulted in only the faintest of glows, so it shouldn't draw any attention upon activation. Once this was done, Syril subtly manipulated the air beneath his feet to lift him upward, floating him gracefully forward and eliminating contact between the ground and Syril's shoes, which might alert his target. Ira Fluta: The third art, flight. In this manner, Syril moved over to the doorframe, then levitated himself slightly higher, leaning over to peer in from above. Just to be safe.

[The Judicator]

*As you peer, you see the next room long enough to see something skitter into the darkness. It's clicking ceases. However, now from behind you, an inhuman shreik.

The creature lunges, swiping at you with it's massive, bone claw.*

Creature Stats:
Str- 8
Dex- 16
End- 10
Int- 6
Wis- 5
Eng- 0

[Syril Ænari]

Several things went through Syril's mind as two things happened in quick succession; one, a vague outline was seen creeping about in the dark storeroom ahead, and two, another specimen--this one far more distinct--leaping through the air toward him. Syril's first thought was of self-preservation, a deep-rooted human instinct not even Syril had been able to completely shake. Several possibilities flashed through his head--escape, defense, preemptive offense, and the various means by which these goals might be accomplished. In a split-second weighing of the possibilities, Syril decided on escape, implementing the already active Ira Fluta in addition to a forward redistribution of air pressure which Syril called Ira Atri, the first art, air movement, speeding him along his chosen path; diving downward, underneath his adversary to skim along the ground back the direction in which he came.

Why escape? The answer lay in Syril's second thought: that there were obviously two creatures in the near vicinity, and Syril was only one mage. Syril was nothing if not honest about his own capability, and odds were not good against two angry kraokin--at least with only the Valdi. Better to attempt to separate the two, and take them down one at a time, if at all possible. If not, Syril might well end up being forced to take drastic measures, regardless of what he preferred.

[The Corrector]

Nicely done on the size and quality of your posts Syril.

Rewards: +3 exp.