Through the Living Wrath

Guys I had a wonderful idea. WE MAKE A GAME code It would be a command line dungeon crawler And we would design Save, Map, Combat, etc. We would either divvy up the different things or take coding shifts Sign up here (This is so that a coding project can be better time optimized) Consider that you'll need to handle file read/write/parse

“Great. So we need to overthrow a sovereign power to get what we want safely. Cool. What exactly can I do with this cube?”

Cor frowned. “We need to move.” He turns to @IcedOutPenguin. “Where would you say the stronghold is?”

@Spark of Hope @IcedOutPenguin @KaladinsSenseOfHumourSpren The figure raised an arm… and then another… and then another… and then another… and then another. A glowing light emanated from each arm, and Finn knew his life was to end. And then it didn’t. Light flashed, and a crater was left where the cyborg once was. Another figure, cleanly and smiling, descended. “I apologize.” Its voice was strained. “You are to be audited, not executed.” Each of you lost vision. … When you awoke, you were alone, in a cell. A voice sounded. “Wait please. Your trial will begin shortly.”

He grunted. “A name. Who’s Neigan?” Patch looked around. “I agree.”

He nodded, then turned to the newly freed prisoner. “What do you know about the knight?”

“Yeah… though I don’t know where ‘here’ is.”

Cor hadn’t slept. He hadn’t slept in a long time.

“No… it is… a part of me. Without, I die.” He looked down. “He’s a really good fighter. I’m not sure how, but I know he is.” Cor was ready for the time skip!

“You misunderstand me.” He hesitated, and nodded. “As you wish.” The shadow retreated, and Cor returned, wide-eyed. “You’re alive!”

“Cor is a victim of the Ceramist. The Ceramist is for death at my hands. My imminent goal is to find worthy souls for my final Vessels.”

"I am a puppet of the Ceramist, the architect of destruction. This thing, of which you speak, involves much death. Much more than I can incur on my own."

"I am called End. I have taken interest in your actions, to kill the tyrant."

"You can trust that it hasn't yet attacked you." He places a finger on the plate at his neck, and darkness runs along Cor's hand from the crude clay. It was absorbed into his skin, and he seemed to carry himself different. End blinked as he regarded Wit. "Greetings, usurper."

Patch nods, then looks to the other group. “You?”

He sighed, and concentrated vaguely on removing the bars.

“…thanks, that helps so much.”

He frowned. “Apparently so.”

“The other one takes control? Maybe? It usually attacks everything, but it spared your group.” He shivered, a hand straying to his neck. “But it is… a very good fighter. I can… let you talk with it, if you wish. I advise caution.”

He sighed, closing the hand and looking back. Patch stepped back to the tunnel. ”I found it. What do I do?”

He blinked. That was… different. Different was a good word for it.

@CoderDrag0n8

Once out of sight, Patch begins to study the green cube. “What… are you?” The murmur was low.

“I am willing to help you find your friend. I know that this is where End wanted me. Just know that… it will not be me, doing the fighting. If it gets hairy.”