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Like an irritable child, Corbin knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he pushed Roan to be quicker, though it showed that he was in some kind of hurry, as he idly wiped the small amount of blood from his palm on his opposite sleeve. Followed by brushing the bit welling at his tear duct away.

Turning to regard the new guy, he couldn't quite recall if he'd met him yet. Then again, he couldn't care less for the time being.

"Oh it's broke pretty good, but that's fine. Oooook with me. Find what I need in there."

"Jan'll get it fixed for you. He's good at software issues. Should be working again by the time we get you kitted out."

Peeling out of the kitchens, she walked unhurriedly down the stairs towards the armoury access point. She could see the animated energy in Corbin, but passed it off as a combat high from whatever sim he'd been running, rather than anything else.

"So what made you choose warlocks to fight today? Something you read?"



Back in the kitchen, Jan didn't notice Dagoth's shaking at first. His eyes were glued to his wrist unit, tapping hurried commands into it and swearing frequently as error messages kept flashing up.

Looking up as he was about to tear the unit off and throw it, he noted Dagoth staring at his hand, and frowned.

"Sir? Are you SURE you don't need me to look at that for you?"

"Not your choice? I hope you're not listening to the thing inside you. Believe me, symbiotes can be useful, but their advice is not universally applicable or helpful. Quite often... its just plain wrong."

Pushing her hand onto the plate under the stairs, a hefty clunk indicated machinery in motion. Something moved within the walls, giving Roan the time to turn and answer his question.

"That was Dagoth. Used to be a pirate, now works for me. Well, sort of. Like you, he's another stray I seem to have picked up and enjoy having around. Try not to start world war three inside the house, ok? I believe you bumped into him at the bar once."

Casting his eye upward for a moment, he smirked, at Roan and gestured with his thumb pointed above.

"Sounds like I aint the only one with a temper. Dun worry, I'll try and not hurt the Nigel's feelings too bad. As fer the nutters in our 'eads they 'ave their uses but whine too much fer my liking lately."

Watching as the wall started to shift, Corbin animated energy was almost keeping him from waiting, as he idly stroked the grip of his gunblade, knuckles in his other hand popping as he wriggled his fingers.

Wasting no time Corbin entered the room, snarling, hand gripping his gunblade now, tightly and ready to draw. Surely, something strange to see as he entered a sealed armoury.

Eye scanning the room, he marched in deeper with a mission in his gait, tail flicking with ire behind him.

"Alright where are you, where the ******** are you."

He expected the witchy bugger to be waiting, out in the open. Already glaring back at him with those bloody abyssal eyes.

I'd turn around, if I were you kid. We don't want to find him again.

"Shut up Magra, you cowardly p***k."

Sniffing at the air now, almost comically, though more feral than anything, Corbin was looking for any trace of the witch's energy while he audibly spoke to Magra, rather than inside his own head.

"Wha-......."

Roan has just opened her mouth to ask Corbin what the hell he was on about, when many things happened all at once.


First, a blinding pain flashed through her head. This was two fold. Initially it was caused by a psychic lash out from a sword on the back wall of the armoury.
The sword was edged in black, its pommel wrapped in purple and red, and it was quivering visibly inside it carefully locked case, the runic wards on it blistering.

Then Také exploded into her thoughts, full of rage and venom against what he now sensed, that the creature Corbin had seen tonight had so far carefully hidden. As such, she staggered for a second, hearing Dagoth's shouted warning through a haze of pain.


Corbin had preceeded her into the armoury, and as such was stood in the middle of it when the voice returned, when Roan staggered, when Dagoth shouted. But they may as well have been silent, for all he would hear from them.


All there was was the sword on the wall. All around, the disconcerting red, purple, black and white scenery returned, leaving the sword the only constant. Of course this visual pattern was discernible to Corbin only, but the sword was commanding, demanding his attention, and only his. When the voice spoke again, only Corbin would hear it.

"Pick it up. Take the sword and you will see me. Shear open the case and claim the most deadly weapon on this continent, and then just prehaps you will be ready to truly deal with me."



Behind him, Roan grabbed Dagoth's wrist as she pushed herself up.

"Get him away from the sword! DON'T let him touch it!"

That damnable acid trip again, and it hit like a freight train in comparison to the last time only minutes ago in the TR. Here, it truly transported him into a whirling abyss, where as in the TR, it was an already empty room so the force of it in here was entirely more profound to him.

All else was made suddenly irrelevant and could no longer be heard. Eye fixated on the sword in question, his hand trembled with might around the grip of his gunblade and his free hand clenched so tightly it'd be no surprise if he fractured his own hand.

"I don't need some fancy ******** sword to take you on witch-man, but if that's what it takes to get your a** out 'ere, dandy!"

He'd march with perfect determination, as though he intended to walk through a brick wall, holstering his gunblade he'd reach out for the sword.

"I'll use it to gouge out those fish eyes o' you-"

Something hit him from the right, and hard. Unable to percieve the others around him at all he had no idea it was the pirate Dagoth, nor that he was doing Roan's bidding for the best. All he could see, was the acid trip of a whirling void around him. Which left the force hitting and hold him, as exactly that, nothing but an unseen force. Not something to show mercy. If anything, Corbin believed it to be his target, toying with him. Though Magra's roaring in protest was ignored.

"Stop MESSING WITH ME!"

Slamming on the breaks with Potence and Fortitude Corbin dug his boot toes in and pivoted his hips, attempting to let the locomotive unseen force be thrown away on it's own trajectory and power, as his tail whipped out to grab the sword and rip it from the wall.