Well, someone had to much ego in their breakfast. And, if you hadn't noticed, my legacy of sarcasm was sarcasm.
Didzo is the only one permitted to have that much ego around here mah boi.
RPtroll shivered as he arrived on floor 42. The walls were carved with dying, screaming faces in a evil-purple tone and the floors became more and more polished beneath his feet. The gates to the inside room of the 42nd floor remained locked and closed. RPtroll approached the gates which was marked by a Black Skull with a Silver corwn resting on it's head.
"WHAT IS THE GREETING... OF MY LOYALTY, MY PLEDGE AND MY BROTHERHOOD?"
The skull on the gates whispered, the empty eye sockets starting to glow a nasty red with every second RPtroll stood there.
"Errm... I don't know" He sheepishly stated. The glowing red sockets in the skulls eyes turned into a wall of swirling red, trapping RPtroll in a painful-looking bubble of intense heat and pain.
RPtroll screamed as his body sizzled under the extreme heat of the bubble as it carried him back into the lift and popped. He mashed the button to get back to his floor, got out of the lift and collapsed mere meters away from his desk while his form smoked.
"Wasn't... *cough* the best idea to *cough* go... t-there" Rptroll wheezed as the medical staff were called and the head member of the medical team Ansje rushed in and gasped at the trollish body smoking and slowly bubbling in-front of her.
"Quick, get him to the medical bay!" Ansje ordered quickly. Three of the medical staff with her each grabbed a corner of the stretcher and whisked their way up the emergency lift onto the 5th floor.
RPtroll awoke many hours later looking almost healed. He was laying on a standard hospital bed in a completly white-looking bay. He could hear a conversation to his right behind a closed curtains since Rptroll seemes to have better hearing than usual.
"...strange things are going on around here, especially today. Rebecca has been spotted burning down the Dargon reserves and she is slowly raising an army of her own dragons by the looks of it. The 'Silenced' on the 42nd floor look quite agitated since they now have to permanently wear concealing dark robes whenever in the building and rumors of recent orders from that... 'thing' leading them seemed to become more and more warped with every day which goes by" The deeper voice stated in a semi-hushed tone.
"I heard rumors that the 'Upper Floors' in general as in Room 40 to the top are getting more involved in watching us all. This place is slowly becoming a Dictatorship to the grunts of the HQ and a paradise for all of it's highest paid" The higher voice snarled.
"Whoever can get past that blasted gate on the 42nd floor to find out what is actually going on will probably be targeted for death if they are ever caught. On the flip-side they will know more information than anyone else here".
RPtroll heard enough. He will have to try and penetrate the defenses of Floor 42. Just as he tried to get up, a sharp pain ripped across his skin and the extra-strength morphine kicked in.
He slowly started to laugh like a looney, his dribble spinning off of his face and swinging around the ward in circles. The medical staff rushed in and knocked him out with gas and sighed in disgust.
There was now dribble marks all over the walls and floors. Plus it was Troll dribble.
The junior healer cried as she probably had the job of cleaning it all up.