Carnage in the Caves

[etcircenses]

Who| Participants in the bloodbath
What| Murder and mayhem ensue after the jabberjays chase people into the caves.
Where| Deep within the caves. This area of the caves cannot be broken into or escaped from until 24 hours have passed.
When| Over a twenty-four hour period beginning now.
Warnings/Notes| Violence, death, gore, etc. You have been assigned a target to kill, but you may run into other characters in the caves as well.

The jabber jays begin their screaming, driving you deep into the caves in an attempt to escape the cries of your loved ones being tortured, beaten, or killed. When the maddening sounds finally cease, you will find yourself trapped in a series of corridors and caves, sealed tight with no chance for escape. Luckily there are plenty of weapons and supplies at hand (machetes, axes, hunting knifes, swords, maces, spears, clubs, hammers, scythes, bows & arrows, food, water, clean clothes), but any delusions of good fortune are soon squashed when an announcer assigns each person a target and gleefully informs you that you must kill your target within 24 hours or else you will run out of oxygen and die.

Over the next 24 hours, you will be tasked with killing this person in any manner you can. You may also happen upon other unfortunate souls trapped in the caves, but be wary of befriending them down here. They're on a mission too, and there's no rules against collateral damage.  

Good luck, and don't forget to put on a show.

Comments

II

[hereliestheabyss]

Marian Hawke has no problem with murder.

Some people just deserve to die. Others don’t, but if their death serves a purpose, she has no qualms delivering a swift end. It’s too ingrained in her lifestyle to raise a fuss without other conditions at play, and unless her target is a small child the likelihood of said conditions raising an issue is doubtful at best.

Even so, the events that led her to the cave have left her worse for the wear. Her usual mental fortitude is rendered useless against the threat of everyone she knows being tortured and killed. The fact that this is a trap doesn’t even register. The prize… That has to be safety of her loved ones, right? And the target— It doesn’t matter if they’re responsible or a simple pawn. Someone has to pay, and it might as well be them.

Hawke loads up on supplies and takes as many knives as she’s able, adding a spear for good measure. She can wield it like a staff, after all, and it should serve her well if she needs more force than the knives can offer or a large weapon to parry blows. Magic or no magic, she is not helpless. She can fight tooth and nail if she has to. Kirkwall has taught her that.

She doesn’t know who her mark is, however, so she settles on trying to kill anyone she meets. It’s a cruel approach, one Hawke doesn’t so much as think twice about as she finds a corner she can hide behind. As soon as she hears footsteps approach she can use the labyrinth to her advantage, strike out with a knife thrown to the leg, and once they’re on the ground it should be easy to finish the job.

So that’s the first thing she does when the warning signs to announce Albert’s arrival echo throughout the narrow passage. No chance to talk, no witty one-liners, no coy smile to ease the delivery. The time for jokes has passed. She sticks to the shadows, winds around the corner low to the ground and throws a knife aimed directly at his upper thigh.

[silberfuchs]

Albert doesn't notice Hawke. It's an odd thing that he doesn't considering how careful he is normally, but between the birds and the announcement, he's too wound up to notice much of anything out of the ordinary until there's a loud clang as the knife hits his thigh and bounces away, sticking itself in the ice-covered base of a wall.

He whirls 'round left and right, searching for his assailant as he raises his machete in a defensive gesture. It doesn't take him long to spot her as he considers the trajectory of the weapon.

"I don't want a fight," he rumbles, low and tired, clearly willing to overlook her attack. "I just want to find a way out. Let me pass and I won't hurt you."

[hereliestheabyss]

“What—?” Surprise audibly escapes her before she can stop herself, her eyes going wide as she recoils at the immediate failure of the ambush. Throwing knives aren’t practical, she’s told herself time and time again— But in such close quarters… Hawke had a clear shot. It wasn’t nerves that set her aim askew. It was something else entirely, something that clanged and rang aloud like metal against metal. Like armor, she thinks, though there’s none in sight. Armor is bulky, not form-fitting or easily hidden. Another trick of the Capitol, then?

She’ll have to hope the rest of him isn’t so resistant to injury. Only one way to find out.

While she took a small step back from the initial shock of the encounter, the mage is quick to adjust on her feet, brandishing the spear instead and thrusting it forward. There’s no move made to run him through, however, not yet. It’s a tactic to herd him backwards, keep him on the defensive.

“What’s your name?” The question comes out as a snarl with bared teeth, a demand, accented by another lunge of the spear. Her rage is too far gone, and lying is as likely to incite action as honesty is, at this point. At least she’s asking. A courtesy accompanied by a defiant stare and hostile body language, more feral than tame.

[silberfuchs]

The spear only forces him back a step the first time, instead side-stepping the second lunge to avoid a shot to his unprotected middle. He keeps his side towards the spear, allowing him to remain facing his opponent but still ready to block the spear if necessary.

"Albert Heinrich," he regards her coolly, no fear showing on his face, just a sort of hollow realization that dawns looking into her rage-soaked gaze. "You're Marian Hawke, aren't you."

It's not a question but more of a statement to the universe at just his luck. Or the Gamemakers' foresight. Of course they would have driven the Tributes they wanted to lock in combat close together so they'd have a better chance of finding each other.

If she moves with the spear again, he'll break it right off the wooden handle, but for now he keeps trying to talk even knowing it's dangerous. He's more than a weapon, and more than just entertainment. "Don't play their game, Marian. Don't give them the satisfaction."

[hereliestheabyss]

Hawke’s not thinking clearly. How can she, when all she can see is red? His calm only makes her own fury burn brighter, her frustration at her own lack of control evident. She’s been pushed past the breaking point, and her usual approach to combat is gone, swept away in her desperation. “I am. And you’re dead.”

The next move is predictable, her intentions practically announced, and Albert breaking the spear has her staggering. His attempt at brokering peace elicits a bark of laughter, at least— but it’s bitter, mocking. “A game? You think letting the lives of everyone I know hang on the line is a game? I didn’t sacrifice myself to a demon for a blasted game. I did it to save them, and I’m not going to let this place take that away from me. Not you, not anyone.”

Her eyes flash, her grip on what’s left of the broken spear readjusts, and she charges. “And don’t— call— me— Marian!” Hawke doesn’t expect to earn a kill or even draw blood with the wooden remains, just the chance to knock the wind out of him with the blunt end, take him by surprise. As much surprise as acting so brashly can warrant, anyway.

[silberfuchs]

She shoves the broken end of the spear at him but he expects the move and turns his side towards it, blocking with his left arm and causing the wooden shaft to glance off the metal limb. Unfortunately, what he didn't expect was for it to slide straight into his midsection.

His parka is thick, but it's no armor and Hawke's thrust has the strength and precision of a trained soldier. It more than knocks the wind out of him; he feels something twinge sharply and immediately goes pale. Something, he has no idea what, but something doesn't feel right.

Albert fights a wave of nausea and backs up towards the wall, pulling his own knife out in the realization that his escape will be hard won, if he can secure it at all. "I don't know what you're talking about but I'm not the enemy!"

It's a last effort, and not a very good one when he's wavering a little on his feet.