Double or Nothing: One in a Million

Possible Solution(s)

Books flew off the shelves and crashed into the pile of books in the center of the tainted black library. Back and forth the heroes ran, tossing papers and scrolls to and fro in their efforts to locate a sustainable document to aid their friends in the sky. Shrap removed four at once, skimming their pages before tossing all but one, stashing the other one beneath the crook of his bottom right elbow. "Anything yet?!" He shouted from the floor above. Down below there, Crow was assisted by one of Azazel's fiery wardens, an unsettling, magma creature with tattered flesh and ancient leather armor.

His blood stained fingers locked over one book, tearing the novel from its shelf and flipping through the books, fixing his steamy goggles. "Nothing yet!" He replied, pitching the book over the handrail where the magma being's blank, glazed eyes drifted after it, following it to and over the ledge before turning slowly back to face the Plague Infector. After tens more books and scrolls fell into piles beyond the shelves, the mechanical voice of Wrench rose above the group. "STOP!! You found zhat-" and then a cut.

Everybody turned inward to face the distraught and enraged Wrench, his mechanical and natural shoulders rising and falling with the sound of hissing steam. "You just threw zhe document ve needed into zhat pile! Dumkopfs!" He growled, climbing the guardrail in front of his section and leaping from the third floor of the library into the sea of books below. Amazingly, the bundles of scrolls and paper saved him from an all too gritty fall. Although the Nazi Engineer did hail a fair warning to steer toward patches with more parchment and paper than leather and spines.

Crow bid farewell to the magma warden, then leapt over the banister and crashed into a pile of scattered papers and parchments. Shrap, however, unfolded his large, leathery wings and took flight from his position, soaring downward and digging through the pile of books and papers with a pair of odd spectacles seated in the slots of his mask. "No time to waste, gents! With every second our folks are up there battling the beast, they have less time to find a chance at victory! Get digging, boys!" Wrench removed his head from a pile of papers, his mechanical limbs covered in ancient scrolls of blood and paper.

"Pfft!" He spat, blowing a piece of parchment off of his shoulder. "Easy for you to say. Leaping down here has scattered zhe papers in such a bizarre configuration zhat ve may never find it again!" Crow wriggled his way out of the pile of leather and book covers, flopping out onto the floor in a shower of dust and debris. His beak twisted into a crumpled mess as he sneezed violently, sitting himself upright from the force. "Oog," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. The Plague Infector flopped over, crawling to his feet as a book tumbled off of the pile, striking him on the shoulder.

It stung, and Crow leapt around for a moment, cursing through gritted teeth. "Oh, you stupid-" he hissed, winding up to strike the book with a kick when he stopped mid motion, his goggles resting on the book. On the front cover of the ancient parcel was a large, fiery beast much like the decayed, ancient fossil in the sky above them. His goggles flashed from anger to excitement as he dove for the book, scooping it up from the floor and holding the book to the air above his head. "Guys! I found the book! And after all that trouble, too. Talk about a hay bale in a haystack."

Minutes later, the group assembled in the courtyard of the prison, with Avery hunched over the book in silent intent while Crow, Shrap, Wrench and their two bodyguards stood patiently to the side, awaiting an answer from their fiery host. Avery, to their relief and anticipation, was the only person in the group who could possibly decipher the text, and although it was ancient text, even for his native tongue, Avery reported that he had read all that he could, and the rest would be of no use to them. Clapping the book shut, Avery set it beside a fountain of magma in the corner of the courtyard.

"Well, great news. I know how we can kill that thing in the sky." Crow stepped forward, unfolding his arms. "And that is?" He asked. Avery shook in his chains, fiddling with the braided chains connecting his dual handed ax to his back. "Well, that's the bad news. We're gonna have to dig deep for it." Avery reached back for the book, flipping open to a page he had saved and showing the papers to the group. All three men pressed together to see the photo, an ancient text carved into obsidian. It was rough and nearly impossible to read.

"That is a Ventrocian fighting alongside one of my boss' people. Long ago, both of these people ruled the ancient world, but the Ventrocians were more easily picked off for their starry skin and pale white eyes. However, they weren't without their genius." Crow scratched a hand beneath his beak and goggles, recalling his own starry skin. Avery's finger drew the group's attention across the diagram to an ancient photograph of a carving depicting a kneeling figure, ancient, swirling energy and flowing magma through the obsidian.

"It seems they may have found a way to harness the core strength of the inner Harbinger itself to kill it. Makes enough sense to me," Avery chuckled, waving his hands and shaking his head, "the only thing strong enough to down it could be itself." Wrench nodded, stepping forward to take the book from Avery. His own eyes snapped and slid across the text until his eyes drifted upward, locking onto Avery. His metallic finger gently pressed onto one of the pages with an obsidian mural. "Vhat kind of strange veapon is zhis?" He asked.

Avery scooped the book into his mitts, inspecting the page Wrench had been pointing to. The mural depicted something too dark for the average Sinner or Demon to see. Avery and Wrench were not ordinary Sinners or Demons. "Ah! I think I see what you're getting at. This is the Forge Scepter, an ancient weapon utilized by Azazel's family to symbolize power and status. Why does that, of everything else on here," he gestured to the pages, "intrigue you?" Wrench crossed his arms, swishing a cigarette around his metallic grin.

"Zhe Flamecrested Harbigner is a nightmare, to be true. However, even zhe most powerful, primal of beasts haf an understanding of zhe rules of zhe land. Perhaps finding zhis Scepter could convince it to stand back?" Shrap twisted himself around the conversation, dusting off his top hat and scraping a hand down his mask. "Ah. I wouldn't put your chips on that slot, Wrench. It's a possibility, but I don't think we have time to find it before it starts getting impatient." Crow stepped forward, arms crossed. "He's right. If you want to find it, please do. But we gotta keep looking through this book for anything that could help."