Thread: The Fate of the world is in our hands (Max and I)

Fight. Henri sure as hell wanted the same, thinking about each one of his comrades that had no doubt fallen to some beastly, putrid orc that got a buzz from splitting open a human skull and watching brain matter splatter on the floor or walls. It infuriated him. Pulled at his heart as he had made the decision to flee. Henri was no stranger to battling a demon, having felled a handful in his time as the Vagabond or traveling between settlements within the Devil's Maw. They were cruel and sinister, merciless and ready to devour not only a human's soul, but their flesh as well. Such sights were grotesque and gruesome, no matter how many times he witnessed freshly killed corpses being devoured by the hungry demons in the wastelands around. To think that he was letting those brutes just tear away at his friends, and the only family he ever knew, it made Henri's blood boil. When he heard Lucia and Evelynn speak, he sighed lightly and gave them a reassuring smile. There was something odd about Henri, and it was that he seemed to always grin or smile. If he was in thought, he would give a rather contemplative kind of grin. He never wore a frown or pensive glare. His reasons were his own. Now, ladies, please. A hand came upon one shoulder of both women with a gentle squeeze to get their attention. We get through this, and we're home free. Considering what's going on, well, you may win out on this little deal, no? Henri didn't seem to want to dwell on the terms of their agreement right now, which was odd considering he would be one to speak or mention it all the time. Instead, he walked along with them, making sure to keep close by them. The symbol Lucia found was exactly what they were looking for, leading them in the right direction. Excellent, follow that mark. We'll wind up home free in no time. He explained to her. Their pace though would be a bit variable. There were often times where they could walk briskly or even break into a light sprint. Then there were others where the path was slippery or slick. Sometimes they'd have to hop over from one side of the tunnel to the other due to their current path crumbling away. Not to mention that they just barely underneath the streets. They actually passed beneath gratings in a street, watching as the Western Market criminals shout and call for everyone to regroup. Henri briefly wondered what the rest of Metro looked like right now. Was it just as chaotic? Eventually, their path came to an end, but a single column of light shined through a single hole in the ceiling of the tunnel. Allow me. Henri told them as he went up ahead, peeking through the peephole. He listened for a moment, even holding his breath to keep the noise to a minimum. The rushing water already made it worse. Yet, he didn't hear a thing. To some, that was a good sign. To Henri, the leader of the Theives' Guild, that was bad news. Without a moment to lose, he began working the secret door open, flinging it open and quickly climbing up. The latch that swung inward to the guild slammed loudly against the ground, and the Vagabond was in the room in a heartbeat. Eveylnn and Lucia would surely follow, and what they saw was distressing... Located now in the common room where previously most of the members of the Thieves' Guild were working and meeting, it was as if a tornado swept through. Documents were scattered about the place with books torn or overturned, a bookcase even completely thrown on to the floor where part of its shelves shattered against the center round table. Silverware, utensils, and other knick knacks were either in pieces, bent, or shattered. The air was fresh with blood, which could only explain the multiple and varying sizes of blood stains along the walls and floor, splatter even upon the ceiling. A particularly large pool of blood, still fresh and reflective, was near the his workshop, the room he immediately bolted too without saying a word, and once he entered, this room was not any better. Worse, there were three members of the Thieves' Guild, dead upon the cold floor with blood pooling around their bodies. Each had a slit throat whilst their hands were tied behind their backs. Henri immediately recognized one as Louise, the man he spoke with before they left. He, especially, appeared to have been tortured. A fate that the man didn't deserve whatsoever. Henri leaned against the door frame and just stared at them, then gazed about the room with the shelves, cabinets, chests, and lockers in various states of disarray or destruction. Most of the items that were considered valuable were destroyed and in pieces. Some, particularly the weapons he forged, were stolen and missing. Several impacts against the desk and tables or walls showed beings of great strength. It had to be the orcs as well. Were they planning this from the start? Were they going to betray him and then butcher them all? At this rate, Henri feared the worst, that only he survived. That he was alone now. Again. The Vagabond continued to remain silent, at a loss for words as he had to turn away and just look at something else. Anything else. Something reassuring or promising. He even looked to both Evelynn and Lucia. Both. His eyes seemed to seek shelter in them, but alas, the cruel reality of what was happening reminded him that not only was this truly taking place, that his guild family was now gone and murdered, but that he could not grieve or even pay them respects. Apologize or wish them a safe trip to their destination in the afterlife. A place where the heavens had not forsaken them. A place where they would truly be alive. Henri simply made his way to a chair in the common room and just sat in it, shaking his head and rubbing his face. The Vagabond always had a plan, even if it was on the spot... he didn't have the slightest clue of what to do now, but something told him that the orcs were looking for them, considering that the rooms were completely ransacked, not a single nook or cranny left uninspected. They had something important, whatever this Chieftan Baronk was searching for. And it was the revolver. But why? Henri couldn't make heads or tails of it at all. Orcs never used guns, their brutish ancestry favoring primitive or crude weapons such as swords and lances. The only ranged weapon an orc used was a javelin, or so he at least thought. It was further perplexing, and with his current state of mind, Henri couldn't think straight or of any leads at all.