Demigod Quest :: Page 2

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[x] Dromichaites
[x] Ares
[x] Wretch

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Renowned (115)
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Voting closed. The final vote is Dromichaites, son of Ares, a Wretch.

I'll type up the next bit when school's over.

Renowned (112)
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I apologize for the wait. There was a family emergency, and I could not access my computer (and my story files) for a bit.

The Character Creation vote has been replaced with a character sheet.

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You were dreaming.

As far as dreams go, you liked this one. You were free. You don't remember much else.

You were awoken by a sudden tink of metal.

You open your eyes. To your astonishment, you see the glimmer of a key at your feet.

You turn your head around to see where it might have came from. Aside from the minuscule hole in the ceiling that brought some light into your cell and the barred door in front, you see nothing but aged, moss-encrusted brick, with a small bucket in the corner. You have no idea how a key could have just appeared in your cell, but you aren't going to complain.

You move to the door and peer through the keyhole. You see a well-lit hallway lined with other doors that cuts off into a corner a few meters beyond your cell, which is at the end of the row. Most importantly, it's empty.

With some maneuvering, you manage to unlock your manacled hands.

But before you can do more than remove your shackles, you hear the crunch of boots on the ground, and you barely manage to toss the key in the bucket and slip your hands back before a panel slides in the door, opening a tiny hatch where you can see the warden glaring at you.

"Right, you," he said disdainfully. "Away from the door." His voice had the casual, sneering confidence of a man who knew you were completely helpless, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Or so he thought. Your hands are still cuffed, but you're sure the man doesn't know that you're freed. And that gave you options...

[x] Take him by surprise, attack him, then run for it.

[x] It's too early and risky to make a decision. Feign compliance, for now.

[x] Write-in...

Renowned (112)
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~~[x] Pull out your AK and blow him away!~~

I kid, i kid.

[x] Take him by surprise, attack him, then run for it.

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Distinguished (70)
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[x] It's too early and risky to make a decision. Feign compliance, for now

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Distinguished (58)
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[x] It's too early and risky to make a decision. Feign compliance, for now.

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Voting ends in aprox six hours.

Renowned (112)
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[x] It's too early and risky to make a decision. Feign compliance, for now.

The warden doesn't wait around. He pulls you out of your cell and shoves you roughly toward the end of the corridor.

You're tempted to run, but you've committed yourself. The temptation becomes stronger as the warden directs you with more shoves, kicks, and the occasional insult.

You are led - in a manner of speaking - through a maze of corridors and hallways, until you arrive at a small, empty courtyard. You're in what looks like a very large villa.

You pause. What kind of villa has its own prisons? But before you can think for too long, the warden kicks you again, nearly tripping you.

You're led across the courtyard, go up a flight of stairs, and you find youself in one of the largest rooms you've seen in your life.

A few scroll-lined shelves lie along the walls and a bench sits next to what looks like an apothecary cabinet in the far end of the room. You could swear some of the scrolls are glowing.

Four marble pillars hold up the ceiling. A desk lies foursquare between them. A man is standing behind it, his face almost as wooden as the desk. He looked middle-aged and had a pointy little beard, and.

The warden leaves, quickly replaced by two other heavily-armed men, armed with crossbows. They move to either side of the desk, with identically stoic faces.

"Do you know why I've bought you here?" says the man.

You're not in a mood to play games. So you just stare at him blankly.

The man continued. "I am here to offer you a deal. I have some concerns that I do not wish to be connected to, and a man of your talents would be quite useful to me."

"Do you have a name? Surely you must." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me be frank, boy. You are alone. You have no family name to shield you. You are not the citizen of any state or any other government. I can have you permanently imprisoned. Or executed. You are a very little man."

He leans in, eyes flickering over your face. "You have not said a word since you have entered this room. I do not believe you are taking me seriously." He stepped back and snapped his fingers. "Sergeant. Shoot him."

One of them men rose to attention. "Sir?"

"Let us capture his attention. Shoot him. In the left foot, please."

The sergeant moved his crossbow toward your leg, while the other man pointed his crossbow squarely at your chest.

Instinct took over.

As you see the sergeant pull the trigger, you twist your body into a spin that kicks the crossbow out of the other guard's hands. The bolt thuds harmlessly into the floor, and before they can react, you slam the point of your elbow into the second guard's face. He spits out something incoherent, and you hurl him bodily at the other guard, who is bowled over in the middle of drawing his sword. You turn to the bearded man-

Who nodded with satisfaction.

"That, boy, is why you are here. You are a man of rare abilities. I will use you...or I will make sure no one else will."

He claps, once, and the door opens again. You turn, and you can see a half a dozen guards standing in the doorway. "We're done here, sergeant. Take him to the infirmary to have his nose rest. Oh, and pick that up. Over there. You see the tooth, yes? Good. Dismissed."

He turns to you, rubbing his jaw. "Let me be clear. You can work for me, or I will have you thrown in your cell and the door bricked in. Will you work for me?"

[x] Accept
[x] Refuse
[x] Write-in...

Renowned (112)
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[X] Refuse
Cause, well, **** him

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