User:Trar/Game:Grueslayer/ch3/fightbryce/wait3/stairs

Grueslayer

Martins Hotel lounge	Score: 145	Moves: 84
> Take the stairs You descend down the Martins Hotel's stairwell, passing several teeth-shredded bodies on your way, resisting the urge to loot them. > ...uh, why? Nnngh...plot convenience? > Oh. Fair enough. Nnnkay. Eventually reaching the bottom of the stairwell, you make your way over to a door that leads into the lounge. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath, adjust Ronalds' sword on your hip and your gas mask one your head, cock back your shotgun, resist the urge to cry as you remember there's only one shell left, and open the door. Boss fight time. You feel a little queasy as you enter the lounge. Whatever took place here was obviously loud and messy; furniture is overturned and scattered all over the place, almost everything's broken, and the half-eaten bodies of guests and hotel staff litter the floor. Man, they weren't paying for this. And it's not difficult to guess what did this; Bryce was obviously busy with his Summon Grue spell here. What seems to be hundreds of Grues wander about the room, nibbling on limbs and breaking more stuff for fun. Must be why all the shades are drawn and the door is chained shut. And standing (where else?) in the center of the room is, of course, good old Cardinal Bryce himself, a wide grin splitting his face. Lying at his feet is the body of the hotel manager, severely scarred from electric magic. Flanking Bryce on either side are several red-robed Bensonists - a dozen in total. > What? I thought I polished those guys off with Beverly here! Benson has a world-wide following, you fuckwit. You'd need to kill a helluva lot more than the half-dozen Bensonists you did to weaken his fanbase. Anyway, upon seeing you, Bryce throws his head back and cackles with annoyingly cliche evil laughter. "Your persistance has proved amusing, Grueslayer," he says, "but this is where this ends. I hardly need to participate at all; my Grues will make short work of you." He's probably right, you know; there's Grues on practically every other square foot of the room, and several of them have just noticed you. Be a martyr to your cause by blowing your brains out with your last shotgun shell. Give up entirely and wave Ronalds' sword around in the vague hope that Grues have somehow lost their resistance to swords since last time. Dive behind the reception desk in the hope of finding some sort of cover. Flee out the front door.