Closed Storehouse Massacre: The Possession

[Shimoje]

Emotionally Distraught: Night 82nd of Spring 516 A.V.

Just as fast as the Jamouran had appeared it had also disappeared. He was the controlling factor for a number of the other distraught spirits within the storehouse, and his overall intent was to corrupt those who stood in his way. The lively individuals that were aught so lured into the storehouse now became a part of his game, with a victory in mind. The Jamouran spirit had intentions that were only naturalized with his hatred for Humanity, but now that hatred turned to almost all living things.

Shimoje, Hwyn, Aranta, Jade, and Ferrin all a victim of part of a much larger scheme. For whatever reason all of the ghosts in the storehouse now remained mostly inactive, aside from the random scream and sound of gurgling as if something was being choked.

The thunder once again ravaged through city. The storehouse quickly being absorbed by a lightning strike which energized the stones around it. The place practically vibrated from the strike.

Shimoje fell once again to the ground, his pathetic and sheer emotions tearing at every fiber of his core, laying by the feet of Jade. His eyes finally filled with tears, and overwhelming sensations tingled at his arms, legs, and gut. Crawling slowly towards the door, he placed one hand after another keeping his body to the floor. The sight was almost pathetic, but given everything that Shimoje has been through, not too unnatural.

He was under the belief that none of this was real. A cruel joke, or perhaps a dream. He now scratched at the closed door, pulling his body up as if his legs didn’t work and attempted to open the door. In the process Shimoje fell, and continued to roll down the stairs. His body clashing onto the floor. Looking up he saw a winged beast he knew to be a Zith. In his confusion he yelled at it. “No! Get away!”

Taking out his daggers Shimoje flailed them back and forth ontop of him, as he lay on his back tears still rolling through his eyes. Then everything went black, as black as his soul. He dropped his arms to his side and almost at the point of giving up. “Just kill me.” He said to the two figures by him. He couldn’t even recognize who or what they were. He just wanted his emotional pain to end.

"My Speech." "Other Speech."

[Hwyn]

Hwyn Alone in the dark Hwyn waited, salvation or damnation either, he didn't know which to expect but he knew that he wouldn't give in so easily. Something was here with him the sounds in the darkness where enough to prove to him that he was not alone. Holding his blade tightly in his left hand and Shimojes bag in his still bleeding right hand Hwyn waited silently listening for something that might dare and approach him. He could feel his body begin to perspire, not from heat but from stress and adrenaline swimming freely in his body. it was not a pleasant experience by any means but he would not fall weak as long as he knew that his freind was still trapped here. If Shimoje really wasn't down here though not moving was not going to help him find him, He would have to search for him himself. "If anyone is out there and listening, B-be warned, I-i'll show no m-mercy to anyone who crosses me. So you'd better tell me where Shimoje is, Y-your burnt corpses and sad deaths don't mean you have to hide from me! So... Uhm please give me my friend back. If you d-do, I-i'll make sure to, help you too." Hwyn hoped the offer would help him find his friend, he didn't like the smell or the sight of the ghosts but maybe if they didn't think he found them revolting they would be more keen to help him. At least that was the hope, the the realities of such situations almost never matched the ideals but that was a fact of living. Hwyn would not be able to forgive himself is he didn't try to save his friend, and he felt a little pity for the spirits that lay within this morbid tomb, maybe he could help them too, but they came second to his desire to see those he cared about out safely first. Thus did the boy wait in the dark using his compassion to shield his heart from fear. As long as he thought he could protect someone else the fear of his own doom was a little less scary by comparison.

[Aranta]

Aranta briefly recognized the newcomer, who had come rolling down the stairs, as another human, and not a... a spirit, or whatever was controlling the night's events, but the Zith dismissed him; he sounded weak, and with the quickness with which he gave up, Aranta figured that he would be no danger. The Zith did not recognize him, either, and so continued his search for his friend. He could hear another person moving about the warehouse, close now, and Aranta moved towards the footsteps. "Ferrin?" he called again; the footsteps were closer, and when he finally encountered the grasping hands, scent memory told Aranta that he had found his friend. "Ferrin!" he cried, relieved, as he took the human's hand. "I'm here, I found you. What is going on? Did you see who is doing this?" he demanded; now that he knew he was not alone, trapped in a building with strangers, his anger was beginning to come back, replacing the fear that had nearly overwhelmed him earlier. An angry Zith was not a creature to be trifled with, and while Aranta knew nothing about spirits or whatever else may be behind the events of the night so far, he knew that even if something were to happen to him, he would not go down without a fight; adrenaline was beginning to course through him, sharpening both senses and reflexes. Should something attack again, the Zith would be ready for it, to the best of his ability. Aranta glanced about the storehouse, but there was still not enough light for him to see beyond an arm's length away. "There were others here," he said, turning back to Ferrin. "Did you see them? Did you recognize them?" Perhaps if they could figure out who else was in the storehouse with them, then they could figure out what was going on.

[Jade Laken]

DATE, YEAR, LOCATION

Jade heard something fall down a set out stairs while whimpering. She was so done with being afraid and she will not let anyone else give up. Making her way over to the stairs the blonde slowly took each step making sure her feet were planted before continuing down the stairs. Once she made it to the foot of the stairs Jade could hear Shim whimpering. Finally her blood boiled over as she marched over. Standing before him the woman grabbed his shirt and jerked him up.

"ENOUGH! YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A BABY! Wake up! IF WE DON'T KEEP OUR PETCHING HEADS THEN WE ARE DEAD! MAN UP AND STOP THIS CHILDISH WHIMPERING! WHAT KNIGHT DO YOU KNOW HAS JUST GIVEN UP! Use this hell hole to prove yourself Shimoje or curl up back on the ground! Either way there are others here ALIVE that need to be found and a plan made," Jade growled and let him go.

She panted as adrenaline coursed through her veins as it did on a hunt. Only this was not an excited adrenaline, but a survival adrenaline. Backing up some the woman spotted another door knob. Walking over she turned the knob and looked down what the blond assumed was stairs. Hearing a small child call out she took a deep breath and slowly started down the stairs.

"Hello?" Jade called looking around while taking small precise steps.

Suddenly the door slammed shut behind her causing the blonde to turn and growl. Quickly she managed to get down the stairs. Something about this room made her extremely uneasy.

"My name is Jade Laken of the Emerald Clan. Who ever is in here please tell me your name," Jade called formally introducing herself to any spirits and the one young child in the room.

[Ferrin Al'Mandrikan]

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Ferrin half walked half stumbled over to what he thought was Aranta. His voice was froggy and his throat had hurt inside, as if glass was cutting through and slowly tearing it apart. His feet echoed through the dark and dank room. His eyesight was obstruct from the darkness. It was fully obscured, these spirits whoever they were, Ferrin couldn't take much more of this nonsense. Well, he can actually, but it's not a game. It really isn't, it's life versus death, literally. Ferrin almost chuckled at that though, but held it back as he remembered if the string that shown up with the bright light earlier. Figured it might be one of them watching him... Watching.

Ferrin stumbled over something as he had just regained his composure. His sword nearly fell out of his hands, but if it weren't for... claws grasped around his open hand that was held out as he free called almost. Ferrin grasped tightly around the Ziths' half furry half rubbery like hand. "Aranta!" He choked out as blood trailed from his chin.

The two greeted each other and it was for a split second as the Zith rapidly fired questions at him. Ferrin could barely understand what was going on, it was almost to much for the Kenashian to handle at this moment. Surely. "I do not know what is going on, nor I do not know who is doing this." Ferrin cleared his throat. "But, I do know, this place is not safe, and as you said their might be others here. We need to save them." Said Ferrin encouragingly.

Forget about the shield. The citizens are more important, and whoever else is down here, they need to find a way out, or else they'll be dead. That isn't going to happen on Ferrins watxlch, never as long as he lives. Ferrin once again regained his posture and his confidence, he coughed out all of the malice that swelled up within him. "Where and what do we do though? Do Ziths have the ability to see in the dark... Like er the bats?" Ferrin didn't know much of Ziths, though they way they were birthed their shapes looked like bats in a way. Maybe, they can gain some sort of advantage???

My Words Others Words My Thoughts

[Shimoje]

Shimoje was on the verge of breaking. Just the other day he had been in an interesting predicament that made him look at life in a different perspective. Life could have no meaning, only to solely exist like Shimoje had philosophized, and here were some people that he knew, and some he didn’t. Shimoje gathered his resolve and closed his eyes. Everything went blank. His tingling sensations of fear and adrenaline finally reached a point where it snapped. His mind ant clear as his eyes remained closed. The images that passed through him earlier replayed themselves. With a few deep breaths he stood up, staggering from a few remnants of shaking.

After turning to Jade with a few gasps of air he knew she was right, and he was willing to do whatever was necessary. Soon enough the whimpering tattooed bald headed Zeltivian was beginning to speak with a new sense of clarity and order.
He began by explaining some vital information. “Now I remember. This storehouse was used in the beginning of the season to place some extra and accumulated merchandise for the Tipsy Wench. We received some personal merchandise from River fall here.” Shimoje recalled the stockers from when he first arrived to Syliras.

“I think I was possessed while upstairs. I got lured in here by a ghost I think that has a hatred for humanity or rather all that lives” Shimoje tore off a piece of wood from the staircase and rifled through his tool belt which had various gadgeteering, surgeons, crafters, and woodworking tools, but this time he reached for Flint and steel. Soon enough Shimoje worked on starting a fire on the piece of wood to make a torch. His attempts seemed to disturb the spirits.

Due to their death by murder and fire some spirits hated the sight of fire, though this time it seemed something was on his side. Mother and daughter soon appeared before the fire and somehow it mysteriously started faster. Holding up the torch the spiritist mother smiled and Shimoje immediately guarded her saying she was a good spirit and helped him. Shimoje went on to describe some of his visions when the woman spirit sounded off with a chilling bit of words. “possession, willing – Spiritmist, dust.” Suddenly the woman spirit and daughter was thrown up into the ceiling and dragged across the top of it, them both sounding off with a charade of loud screams.

Shimoje just stood there torch in hand observing with a blank face. By now he felt he had seen and dealt with it all. While standing there Shimoje asked the three before him “I know a little bit of what we are dealing with. I need to fund a grain. Wouldn’t be hard seeing as how our ship trades beer and alcohol as well.” Shimoje’s bright green eyes reflected from the glare of the torch as he looked over to the Zith. “you might be of some use. Ferrin here is right. We need to get downstairs. Aside from locking us in here we don’t know these ghosts true intention. I have a feeling we all could try and make something called spiritmist to both prevent betting possessed and to lay these ghosts to rest. If they appear physical in form I also think you can weaken them physically.”

Shimoje took his tamo daggers and turned then into a club. With club and torch on hand he banged it against the door heading downstairs very loudly then creaked it open with his spare fingers. Looking back to Jade, the Zith, and Ferrin and taking a deep breath of corpse ridden air he asked if they were ready. His visage now clear to be covered in blood and guts.

[Hwyn]

Something was coming and from the looks of it it wasn't a ghost. sounds came from above as a series of thumps and light? Hwyn wasn't sure but he was none to keen on whatever it was, especially if it was someone who was hostile. Pointing his sword towards the source of the sounds which came from the top of the stairs Hwyn peered into the darkness ready for a fight.

He had been looking for the ghost of the child he had heard while in the basement but had yet to find them, if their was anyone beyond Shimoje that he wanted to find that would be the person. But in the darkness Hwyn's judgement was tainted with unease, he needed to start moving, he couldn't just hide any longer, but at the same time he couldn't see where he was going.

Deciding that patience would be his best option when it came to what was coming down the stairs Hwyn decided that whatever was coming down the stairs was either going to be friend, or fiend. But either way he was going to ascend them and find Shimoje no matter who came down those stairs next.

Even with a clear resolve and goal in mind, Hwyn still quaked in his boots, both from nerves and adrenaline that was coursing through him.

"Who's their? If you're looking for a fight your not gonna like what y-you f-find"

Peering up the stairs Hwyn held his sword at the ready and waited on his foe to appear.

Their wasn't much more he could do beyond wait but in his head he began to make a plan, he had the disadvantage of lower ground but of he could take his opponents legs out from under them he would be well off, if it was a ghost he could in theory just run right through them, so either way he had a plan. Then he would need to stick to the right, if he could keep a hand to the right wall he could circle and find his way in the building.

He still had Shimoje's pack maybe something in there he could use. Though the menagerie of tools usually left him feeling quite confused

[Shimoje]

Unconcsiousness

The entire storehouse began to shake with unsettling roars. “Others!” Scoffed a whisper within the Zith’s ears. Cold began to form around the base of the stairs, and all those nearby would feel an immense chill as the blood and guts from the previous carnage began to almost coagulate and freeze over. A violent push of emotion soon began to fill the air and it was if every aspect of the darkness seemed to engulf just the Zith.

He would be the first to feel a large arm grab hold of both of his wings and flay them outward. With a shove the Zith was dragged to the ground pinned down by his previously held in wing. During the encounter the wings would surely scrap against those nearby which was Shimoje and Ferrin.

The force would knock out the Zith from the extreme cold and overwhelming sense of malicious tendencies. The Jamouran spirit materialize standing above the Zith and slowly turned his face towards Shimoje and Ferrin letting out a smile that showed his grisly teeth then disappeared as he flailed the unconscious body towards them on the ground. During the process the body seemed to slip down the stairs from the force of the throw and in result pushed Shimoje down the stairs causing him to fall and topple into the room below which contained Hwyn and Jade.

[Jade Laken]

DATE, YEAR, LOCATION

Jade yelped when a body came flying towards her. Jumping out of the way the blonde landed on the ground as the Zith landed where she had previously been standing at. With a soft growl the woman stood up looking around.

"Come out you cowards!" Jade shouted looking around the dark room ignoring both Ferrin and Shim as they came downstairs.

The normally level headed woman had become sick and tired of the ghosts and their antics. She would find a way to get her friends out of the warehouse unharmed if possible. Jade was ready for anything the monsters had to throw at her.

[Shimoje]

Suspended Attack

The group within the Storehouse hadn’t responded well to their situation. Some were freaking out, others unconscious, and the more temperamental ones were trying to poke fights with the spirits. So far there has been lots of negativity going around within the Storehouse, and the spirits were just feeding off it. The Jamouran had just finished tossing the Zith around like a rag doll, but now… now he heard himself be called a coward.

Fully surrounding himself in soulmist the Jamouran and his burnt victims fully made themselves open. The materialized in the basement which stood Hwyn, Shimoje, Jade, and more than likely soon to follow Ferrin. Not standing was the Zith near the entrance to the room below the Storehouse. They all appeared inside of the room and let out a flurry of different ear wrenching sounds. Two of the burnt victims headed towards Hwyn and another two towards Shimoje. The rest seemed to huddle next eachother behind the Jamouran who rushed towards Jade.

The Jamouran spirits practically tackled Jade with his large arm, lifting her body up towards the ceiling by her waist. He continued to walk and carried her to a far corner within the basement, keeping her pressed up against the ceiling. His cold grasp was starting to penetrate through her clothing and soon the cold burning sensation would start to torture her if she didn’t do something soon.

The burnt victims laughed at their prey and a few in their demonic state pushed Ferrin into the stairwell as the door locked behind him with some great thuds.

What possible hope would the group have to get out of this situation now?