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PostPosted: Wed Feb 28, 2007 2:10 am 
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God that hurt a lot…

After being kicked by Primal in the latest attempt to defeat the third form, Phoenix was slowly getting back up. Even though the kick was not as bad as compared to the poison, it still hurt quite a bit. Managing to get on his feet, he picked up his sword which he dropped after the impact from hitting the tree. His next concern was his guardian, Suzaku as she was infected with the same type of poison that Hijinx received earlier. Suzaku, are you okay?

Kazuma-sama, I am fine for the moment but my magical abilities are greatly weakened. I doubt I could help you at the moment without being a burden. I am going to rest for a bit just in case if there is a fourth form of Primal.

The bird flew away from the battlefield and towards Phoenix’s current location. Once arriving, she transformed into a necklace that was around her master’s neck. Phoenix began to ponder on his next course of action. I guess I should recover my magic since Nall is so hard to kill. Maybe it was a bad idea to have the ex-Elite being eaten up after all. We have no idea how much HP he has in the first place. It seems that Nall still can’t sense Primal without one of us being in its stomach. As Phoenix was drinking a Mage’s Soul, he heard a voice within him.

Maybe you should leave this place. You don’t need Marionette or this Hub. So what they hate you for it. It’s not like that they hate you already. You don’t need them.

What was that just now? Who was that? The voice was filled with anger and darkness. I can’t leave them and even if I could, Marionette probably blocked all escape routes. It’s either defeat Primal or a body bag if I want to get out of here. I think I got an idea to attack Primal now.

As Phoenix watched Rayo and Zan using a combination of thunder and ice, his plan was going to use a couple of Rai Roms to hurt and distract Primal while closing in with the Singing Sword. He was going to use the Rue Slash skill to follow up with the Rai Rom attacks. With Rayo’s La Repth spell, he was nearly at full health and was ready to attack Primal.

With Primal being distracted by Zan, Phoenix began to charge towards the plant monster. “Rai Rom! Rai Rom!” The spells took their effect and attack Primal while Phoenix was closing in. He followed up with another Rai Rom before attacking with the Rue Slash. He planned to attack Primal with Rue Slash while the Rai Rom was still in effect to get maximum damage. After connecting with the Rue Slash, he rolled back into the underbrush. Before he could make another attack on Primal, he felt the Ingrez Rune pulsating for a second.

Shinto, are you trying to tell me something?

For Phoenix, he would get no reply back. On the other hand, Suzaku realized what the pulsating meant.

I thought I would have more time. I must get the program up and running before the worst case scenario occurs.

_________________
Phoenix
Level 48 Blademaster
Equipped Skills: Vak Revolver, Gan Revolver, Dek Vorv, La Repth, Juk Kruz, Rue Kruz, BiVak Rom, GiGan Zot
Other Skills: Rue Kruz, Rip Synk, Rip Saem, Crack Beat, Rue Slash, Ani Slash, Gan Crack, Gan Revolver

Wish List: Phoenix's Fire, Gold Necklace
EX-Spheres: LV 3 - Overdrive, LV 3 - Curative, LV 3 - Elemental Breath


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 01, 2007 9:52 pm 
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Rayo's spells, Zan's spells, and Phoenix's onslaught all had pretty much the same effect as they did last time. Damage was dealt, but it seemed as though it was sinking into a hole, a hole that they had no idea how deep it was. They weren't alone in their attacks, either.

Nighthand was getting irritated by the persistence of this particular thorn in their side. Abandoning his stay-back tactics, he decided it was time to put his dark-themed blade to use.

”I'm sick of this. GIVE BACK NALL!” Nighthand shouted, rushing into the aftermath of spells detonating around the monster. One hand whipped back, searching the lining of his cloak for the scroll he wanted. The other trailed the Nightblade, whip extended as long as the blade in preparation for its skill's activation.

”Nightblade Storm, Fire Variance!” He called out. He activated the scroll he held; Fireball Storm. Rather than melt into a spell cast on Primal, however, the scroll burst into flames. Nighthand's hands came together and the fire leaped to coat his blade. The Nightblade, now burning, began to spin.

Nighthand twirled around in a heavy parody of the blademasters signature attack, Revolver. Both the faceted blade and the whip of the heavy sword struck the boss repeatedly, both coated in fire and leaving burning streaks around the area. The underbrush, what little of it was left after the rai and rue spell barrage and Rayo's vak assault from before, went up in flames and ash. The ground cracked and dried as the skill created a tower of flame. Leaves high up in the trees curled and dropped in the form of ash, as the skill completed and Nighthand came to rest.

Primal stood with half his body coated in soot, streaks of heated flesh wrapped across his body. He stumbled, seemed to cough, and Nall was expelled from the creature's gullet. Nighthand activated a resurrect and Nall's form was brought back to live, as lively as ever.

”Yes! I tore out something on my way out, it should be vulnerable to attacks now without someone being inside it!”

Nighthand wasn't paying much attention, though. He watched Primal as he started his counterattack, wondering which one it would be.

The vines on Primal's neck pulsed, and Nighthand responded.

”No you don't! Fire Tempest!” The scroll activated, detonating in a whirlwind of heat and fire around the boss. Whatever poisoned thorns were expelled were eaten up by the fire.

”Rue Crack!” came Nall's shout, his skill connecting with explosive force to the back of Primal. An explosion of ice and sound shook the room and Primal flew forward, into the waiting blade of Nighthand. He ripped the sword upwards, dealing his own bit of damage and launching their foe into the air.

”Dark Traitor!” Nighthand shouted, activating yet another scroll, but this one he brought his hack to bear upon. The darkness energy felt at home in his grasp and he pumped it full of power, making it as strong as he could while Primal was still in the air. (16+1)

Out of nowhere, rips in the fabric of reality appeared, much the way that Nighthand's sword was summoned; a different object exited them this time, though. Soot-stained steel chains, topped with rusted blades with wicked hooks, shot from the holes and impacted Primal. For an instant, the whole contraption hung in the air, before the chains disappeared. The holes were healed, but Primal wasn't. No longer was this foe alive.

Nighthand removed the creature's mask; it was the object that fit the third hole in the door out of here. Almost instantly, there was a concussion of sound and light. Nighthand was tossed backwards in the massive wind that followed. The trees and underbrush were swept away, breaking into their component data bits. The party was exposed once more, but then, so was the boss. All that was left of the room now was a flattened floor and a bright, shining sky.

When the light dimmed, the sound faded, and the wind stopped, they were at last able to get a good glimpse at the final form of their boss.

What stood where Primal's third form had fallen was threatening, to say the least. Where arms and shoulders used to be, something new was there. One arm was a neck and head, the other was a tail. Both made of some hard, green metal, both studded with spikes and evil-looking blades. The body of the humanoid was once more white, with faint hexagons traced across it. Purpled accents added color to the mess, and heavy steel cleats seemed to be the only thing supporting what had to be a massive weight. All that was left to identify this as the same creature was a similar mask.

For a moment no one moved. Then the boss started to turn, faster and faster and faster until it, too, was parodying the blademaster's move. The head of the arm opened its mouth and flames spat out in an ever-widening circle, while small knife-like blades shot from all around. The attack filled a quarter of the room, littering the area with blades and fire. Nighthand and Nall stood through it, losing HP constantly as they endured, but it wasn't enough to kill them. Then again, they were further from the center than they could have been... it would only get more intense closer.

Finally the attack wore down, and Nighthand cast an Ol Repth to bring himself back up to health. It seemed this was to be their final challenge... and it was up to them to decide how to deal with it.

----------------------------ooc:
Primal 4: Final.
Stats still pretty much unknown, but at this point it doesn't really matter. I'm not sure what the best way will be to run this one, but I might do short posts after every one or two posts. I don't know yet.

Pic for reference.

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Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 05, 2007 1:28 am 
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Zan watched again as the collective, metaphorical (and literal) dust from their attacks came to a settle, curious to see how their local, stubborn boss had stood against their most recent onslaught. Not surprisingly, the bastard of a monster still stood, albeit a touch weaker than before. This was going to take fucking forever. With the Plures Vultus Mortis like a monkey on his back, getting more and more irate with the passage of time, the lycanthrope didn't have time to kick rocks and mutter incantations. Either they were going to bring down this form soon or they weren't going to at all. In an ideal world there would have been a much broader range of options, but they had left an ideal world once they had stepped foot in Primal's sanctum. To think, the Heavy Blade had been annoyed with the elemental rooms and their sluggish progression. Zan would have given anything to find himself in their edifices again, presented with challenges and difficulties that were more or less child's play next to the boss creature before them. If only he could go Garou and really bring the pain or find the strength to give the Raven one last breath of life to aid him in another spell-spamming like he had against the Flare Hydra. Or was it Flame Hydra? Zan was too exhausted to care.

Preparing himself for another monotonous onslaught from what appeared to be mostly Rayo and himself, the lycanthrope was caught with a rather nice surprise when Nighthand decided to finally put an end to the bullshit. It was about damn time. Why Nall and him had continued to be contemplative, useless collections of flesh up to that point, the Bladesmage seemed to decide he had enough of standing in the sidelines. The inner insults Zan was tossing their way were fueled by his exhaustion from fighting on both a molecular and outwardly physical battlefield. There was probably an obvious explanation that had already been laid out for him to understand time and time again, but there was no reason to recall such things anymore. No, the only thing that came to matter was Primal's destruction. With a call of a skill Zan had yet to see on the Nightblade, Nighthand became a blur of power and flames, leaving scorch marks in his path as he beat the last of Nall's HP down and Primal finally regurgitated the Ex-Elite of Time. Nall shouted some positive thing, something involving vulnerability and a torn part of the monster, and it was enough. A part of Zan was curious to see what would have happened if the next assault hadn't been lost, but that side was quickly snuffed out.

It was obvious that Primal was attempting to swallow up another person, his vines twitching with intent, but their two leaders would have nothing of it. In consecutive attacks of fire and ice, magic and body, the third form became nothing. From what Zan could see, his heightened senses failing him, the next item to be placed on the Hub door was the latest Primal's mask. That works, why not? In all of the excitement and battle fervor, the Heavy Blade had forgotten that each form brought about a new field for them to combat it on. The wolf in Zan mourned at the thought of the forest, of the comfort of Krake being taken away, but mourn was all that could be done. In a gust of wind so strong Zan was flipped back into the air, everything that was become all that wasn't. Sliding across the ground as he landed, coming to press mercifully lightly against the far wall, the Lycan opened his eyes to the change. At first he wasn't sure he was seeing things right, but a continued analysis proved that, indeed, it was all blank and plain. Sure, the shining brightness of the sky was nice to look at, but nothing else of any real interest remained. What was the purpose of this? Did the programmers hope to take away any advantages they could have gotten from scenery? Did they want to bore them to death? Such cruel, cruel things these people were capable of.

Or, should Zan say, was Marionette capable of. The lycanthrope wasn't the only one that had considered the man the source of their troubles and, due to frequent e-mails, he had almost definitely assured them of such a suspicion. The Heavy Blade had a feeling that, even if Marionette wasn't the reasoning behind the majority of the field, he was definitely behind Primal. That was settled, that was cemented in his head. Yet...wasn't he going to offer his services to the mysterious flashmailer? Yes, yes he was. There was always a person in every combat situation that had to make the hard decisions to stop the continued fighting and end the war. Zan would be able to deal with assisting someone neutral, who did things for everyone and no one. Hell, it may just make Marionette more likely to help out the Freedom Fighters in the long run. The Lycan would, however, have serious problems with working with the Elites. If that turned out to be the case with Marionette...well...he was just going to hope it didn't. That would be a trust he'd lose with his friends in the group forever, undoubtedly, and it simply wasn't something he was ready to give away. God help him, let Marionette be nothing worse than neutral.

Shrugging off the thoughts of the mystery man, Zan focused instead on the sight of their new threat. Primal actually looked a lot less threatening than his plant-monster form, but it was the way he held himself (itself?) that brought on some of the intimidation. He was strong. Deal with it, if you could. Such was the attitude that seemed to radiate off of him, something that had Zan gritting his teeth and preparing for the worst. The worst came in the form of retaliation against the group as a whole, a circular flow of fire flaring out to meet them all, followed in suit by the outward sting of launched blades. Zan found himself incredibly grateful that he had retreated from his one-on-one assault against the monster before Nall and Nighthand had brought it down. Being on the outskirts of this counterattack gave him some leverage, the grace of the wolf gifting him with nicely executed flips, bobs, and weaves through the attack, giving him the visage of a dancer rather than the warrior he was. Warrior or not, he couldn't avoid everything, a number of scorches and hissing blades charring and biting into his flesh by the time the attack had ceased. Ignoring the throb of pain that had settled over his body (the fact that it wasn't worse telling him just how badly he was injured) and his blinking red form, embracing the mild numbness of it, Zan launched a single attack.

"MeRue Rom!" Again the spell he was famous for was used; taking away the last of the SP he had built up during Primal's third-form demise.

Zan tried to aim the spell at the inside of the mouth while it was still open, hoping to destroy the mechanism that made it work or at least cause some degree of significant damage to the boss. Okay, so that wasn't exactly likely, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing but gawking at Primal's (hopefully) last form. Like the last two rounds after his magical doings, Zan called the Horse Killer to his hand and vaulted closer to Primal, the long, nigh-double blade coming to bear down on his target as he landed once again on his feet. The Heavy Blade had become used to ignoring whether or not he actually injured enemies like Primal, choosing instead to continue his attacks and hope at least one of them hit home. Going on the momentary defensive as he downed a Health Drink to replenish some of what he had lost, the cool rush of the refreshing liquid into his belly eased the throbbing away, snatching away the distraction the pain would have presented. Attack after attack was then launched at the dragon head, leaving someone else to deal with its bladed tail. The theory was chopping off the head would keep it from executing the fullness of its lethal counterattack. Zan didn't think it was the key to stopping this Primal, but it would rob him of the weaponry that would stall them from figuring out such a puzzle.

Flashmail!
To: The Party
From: Zan
Subject: Ideas

As you can see, I'm going after the dragon head. If you see it open its mouth and have a Rue spell (or any spell, really) handy, try and get that going inside. Otherwise, someone help me try and take out the head as a whole while a few others go after the tail. We have no clue how bad this is, and correct me if I'm wrong Nall, but we don't know what it's capable of stat-wise either. This is fighting blind, so we don't all need to get too close with this guy. Physical fighters, if you'd be so kind as to indulge me, flank and surround Primal while the light classes hang back and hit it with spells. Healing us would be nice too, but I think it's more pertinent to see what kind of damage we're capable of dealing against this thing and if damage is even possible.

Just some ideas.
-Zan

Flashmail! End


All he could do now was wait and see and hope he stayed corporeal long enough to make a difference.

_________________
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
Wishlist
Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 07, 2007 5:14 pm 
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Finally, Nall had been ejected from the troublesome third form the beast possessed. The fact Nighthand joined in had sped the process along quite nicely. Once Nall was revived and both of them pounded away with skill after skill of specialties, then Primal was rather defeated, temporarily at least. The vines were shed and a new form donned by the recurrent foe, this time viewed in a much more godly light. The first form seemed like a freaky dancer at a club, the second had reminded him of a horse in some ways, and the last was a houseplant. With metal claws gleaming, a full dragon acting as both arms and a fur, Primal seemed far more majestic. One had to wonder though, which half was the main body? The head was placed neatly at an overlapping point, but did lay directly on the full dragon body resting on the shoulders. The waist and below was all standard Primal attire, but that aspect just seemed insignificant as compared to the whole presented before them.

The room itself had also undergone another drastic transformation. It was the emptiest it had been since they entered. Initially the bars were there, then the flaming pits, and finally the entire forest look as a whole. Now it seemed more like a final battlefield, with no place to run or hide for either side, set ambushes or be ambushed. In some ways it was a pleasant change, but the fact the room was designed this way meant Marionette deemed it to be an advantage for Primal. Appearing more armored than before, it’s opening move proved the dragon and humanoid hybrid had an offense which was also high. Short bursts of light and blade spread out beyond Primal’s position in an attempt to damage the party as a whole. At least a few of them were within the attack radius, with the mage skirting close to the edges. Being close enough to cast meant being close enough to be hit by such a long range tactic.

A single La Repth was spared for both himself and whoever else was close enough to his vicinity to pick up the free health points. It might not matter in the end, but this form might not specialize in specific one hit KOs such as the previous forms.

The first to move in for the offense was Zan, not surprising at all given the heavy blade’s track record when it came to combat. After his trademark spell, the player had issued a request to see what hurt it. An innocent suggestion, why not indulge it?

Out of the six natural elements in The World, the wavemaster could offer the support of all six. However, all he could fire up in terms of water and ice was a basic Rue Rom, hardly worth casting against Primal. A poor choice doubly so since their point man had already tried that and wanted to see a general spread of effects. Juk could be done once from a scroll effect, but that would be a meager assault and short lived. The choice of targeting the head or tail seemed dubious as well, they didn’t know yet how it operated. Pegging the whole body could very well deal standard damage, but it wouldn’t be too much trouble to make all three of those options the target by taking advantage of a rather oversized bulls eye.

By now the variation of spells used to enchant the wizard’s body were no longer in place, but those were of a secondary concern. The magician snatched a pair of Mage’s Souls from the depths of his cloak, and shattered them, absorbing their energies straight into his body without bothering to deal with digesting them. Since the Great Elite was out already and more than enough wand switching would occur over the course of the next fifteen seconds, he let it stay put. Tracing the outline of a circle with his wand above his head, he began his call.


“Lanceor Ch!”

The thunder beast appeared when beckoned as usual, driving down with lightning upon Primal, thrusting a mane of electrically charged pins into it’s form. Switching his equipment around, the next appropriate staff was out and summoning his next choice, Vulcan. The flaming bird materialized around the monster, wrapping wings over it as it made that area an inferno. Following the phoenix, a Yarthkins in mole form poked it’s head out of the floor, launching granite spears up from below. Wryneck came last, a giant bee mimicking the design on the monster’s leg for the template, except was lacked any of the vibrant color of the original. Almost popping, the darkness summon was then a full swarm of bees, all flying into the monster in order to fulfill their area effect specifications.

By this point the summoner pulled back, his work done until someone went down who needed to be raised or they determined what did the most damage. His item supply was dwindling badly, and the last of them couldn’t be used recklessly. All that was left was wood to try, but someone else more able could handle it. After all, there were quite a few of them and at the moment, everyone was up and kicking.

_________________
Rayo
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty


Last edited by Rayo on Thu Mar 08, 2007 4:09 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 07, 2007 7:50 pm 
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Location: The "Who's Online List," Stalking People...
It had only taken a few swings. Nighthand had single-handedly (well, not literally) decimated this form of their boss. However, perhaps the shiniest part was that he’d used a hack skill that Dien hadn’t seen before. As though it were some overpowered Vak Revolver, the technique spun Nighthand around and delivered blow after fiery blow to their enemy. One Elite of Time and a fast-paced string of attacks later, Primal was destroyed in his third form. If the door was any indication, that left one more to go.

Then it got windy. Really windy. So windy, in fact, that the underbrush, the trees, and everything except for the walls and the sky was blown literally to bits (and bytes and…aw forget it). All that was left was the same floor they’d come into, only minus the jungle gym. Standing rather near to Dien, though, was the fourth form of the boss.

On his shoulders, a metallic dragon stretched down both arms, apparently taking them both over, and the head as well. It was like some jacked up helmet that had been hit with one too many whacks of Twilight. In any case, it sure looked intimidating as all hell, but looks were nothing compared to the hell it was about to unleash. The mouth of the beast opened, and the boss began spinning. Like a top, his weight was centered over the legs that held him there. Flames and knives shot outward in a vast multitude, ticking hit points off of the fighters unfortunate enough to be caught in it. Unfortunately for Dien, he was right at the heart.

A bath of fire washed over him, blowing him backward with the force that was only compounded by the explosion of knives. It didn’t take long at all for the blademaster to be punctured through and through by the attack, and the pain he felt from each hole in his body grew with every passing moment. His very existence numbed as he fell backward, more knives littering his form before he could hit the ground and let it fade out around him.

But he didn’t die. For whatever reason, his HP hadn’t been drained completely and he was allowed to lie on the ground. What attack had been made ceased, and Dien stared into the sky so very high above. There was no clear end to how high the walls were, and yet the heavens above seemed so expansive. It was falsely serene in the face of the destruction he’d just faced, his body now numbing the pain of at least thirty new holes over by means of shock. Repth would cure him, but the clouds above were already so pretty. It was strange, even a refined emulation couldn’t quite compare to the real thing…
__________

It was dizzying how vast the skies above were. Still, lying here in the field seemed to freeze time. Overhead, a pair of hawks circled, their shadows the only thing really visible. It didn’t matter, though; they were together again. Hand in hand, just existing in this vast open expanse and staring up at something real. The only sound was that of the wind whistling through the grass and distant trees. Everything was so peaceful, so calm. There were no worries about hackers or monsters or fellow fighters, the only thing that mattered was the girl lying next to him.

Like a dream, clouds swirled overhead, twisting and building to their hearts’ content. One shape was there in an instant, and in the very next it was gone. No amount of paint or photograph could capture its essence. No, not even coding could mimic this field. The World in all its splendors would only pale in comparison. The vastness of the blue sky, the depth behind the clouds, the filtered rays of the sun – all of it was real. Too real. It was more reality than the man had grown accustomed to, but it was a relief. To be free – that was all any of them had wanted so long ago, and lying here now, the sun beating warmth and light down on the two former players.

His head fell to one side, away from the beauty above and focusing on the beauty at his side. Her skin was smooth as plaster; refined, pure, and white. In the sun’s light, her body still showed some sign of the coma that had resulted after years of infection with Twilight. Breasts rose and sank slowly and steadily, signaling life, and for once Dien was glad. A pair of rings rested on her finger, and the man smiled, letting himself lie back to stare again at the predators that looped overhead.

Wait…

When had Lila gotten married? A quick check revealed a ring on his own finger as well, and his eyes widened.
When had they gotten out?! No, more important than that was how she had been infected. When…

What’s wrong, Dien?” He turned, only to see her form overlaid by that of the AI that had once installed on his mind for a moment. Scrambling, he rose to his feet and backed away, panic overtaking his features. This was Lila, right?

“Uh, I…” what the hell was happening? Once again, her form changed, flashing from one body to the other as she spoke.

Dien, snap out of it, you’re scaring me.

“…Danielle?”

__________

What the hell was that? The ping of a received flashmail had drawn him out of the illusion, but confusion still reigned. Still, there wasn’t time for that, not now at least. The message from Zan drew his attention front and center, on the boss monster that stood very near to him. Holes still littered his body, but a pair of Health Drinks remedied most of the damage and enabled him to stand once again.

According to Zan, there were two targets to attack: the head that had taken the place of the boss’s right arm, and the tail that had taken his left. His strategy was very logical. Two types of attacks had been used, a fire spell-type attack and a massive blade attack. Since fire was still billowing from the creature’s mouth, it only made sense to try and attack the fire with some ice. Unfortunately, all Dien had in that regard was the sword Glitter, which was presently brought into play in place of Komura. What visual had been there was replaced, and the blademaster looked to the head of the thing.

“Attack when the mouth opens…?” He thought aloud, watching its movements before discerning a time when he could jump in and activate the skill. It wouldn’t be a pretty thing, but it would do damage if he could aim it correctly. The trick would be in twisting his body and manipulating the Rue Crack inside the thing’s mouth. A good chance existed that it would miss, but it was at least worth a shot. If it worked? Great. If it didn’t? Eh, there was always his next move, which would happen regardless of how lacerated his arm was by the Rue Crack.

Primal had attempted a parody of his skill; the skill that only blademasters really had access to. If he really wanted to see it so badly, Dien would just have to return the favor. Fortunately, the same sword with Rue Crack also had Revolver on it. It was just good luck on Primal’s part. He was in for one hell of a show.

“Rue Crack!” Dien shouted, and then moments later, “Revolver.” It wasn’t a merger as he’d done before. No, these were two distinct attacks on the same boss: the head of the dragon.

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Wishlist: EXP, Ends of Earth, Armor with Status Effects


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 08, 2007 3:38 am 
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The combined attack of Rayo, Zan, and Phoenix prompted Nighthand to take action against the third form of Primal. Nighthand managed to successfully free Nall from Primal’s stomach which he immediately resurrected the Elite of Time. Then Nighthand and Nall proceeded to take out the third form of Primal in an amazing display of powerful spells and attacks. Phoenix could not recall if he had even seen Nighthand and Nall attacking together but it was a good time to do so. He just hoped that they will not go back into doing nothing like with the previous forms if there was a fourth form. Once Nighthand put Primal’s mask into the third slot, Phoenix’s fear came true.

Primal had once again resurrected from his death and transformed physically. This form gained a sinister dragon that took the place of its arms. He showed off the power of the dragon with an attack that Phoenix did with Suzaku in the Vak room but much more powerful. Without any cover due to the field change, Phoenix took some of the damage of the attack regardless of the distance he put between Primal and himself. This field was definitely made for Primal to maximize the power of the attack.

Phoenix just thought to himself that Primal’s attack did not leave any particular weaknesses to exploit except for one way. He was trying to figure out how to attack it in that way when Zan began to attack Primal with a MeRue Rom spell. Then Zan left a flashmail that he was trying to attack the dragon’s head while giving ideas for the others on what to do. Phoenix had his own idea to attack Primal but the details for it were incomplete. He watched Rayo use a flurry of summons to determine what element to use against the final form of Primal. Somehow he thought that it did not matter as elemental weakness was not really a factor in the previous form. Why would he gain one now? If Marionette created this creature to fight us and did not install elemental weaknesses in the previous forms, why would he create one for the final form? There was no sure way to kill this form. It is like the third form. This will be a battle of attrition. Phoenix hoped that they could hold out long enough to weaken the final form and take the item for the final lock.

As Dien began his attack against the dragon’s mouth, Phoenix realized what the final key was. It was the dragon itself. If the key was the dragon itself, then that would mean that it could be detached itself from the main body. Even though Primal did not have arms, it can be a powerful distraction itself. The dragon was the key in all of this but Zan was right about one thing, the group was fighting blind. Phoenix decided to attack Primal but was ready to deal with its attack.

Phoenix charged towards Primal and activated his Gan Crack attack to close the distance between him and Primal. Then after the Gan Crack attack, Phoenix used his Gan Revolver attack as a follow-up. Once his Gan Revolver attack was over, Phoenix tried to escape from Primal if he could. If Primal uses that same attack once again, the blademaster was planning to use his gravity powers on Primal himself to stop his spinning motion. For some reason he feels that he should not use his gravity powers but in this case, it was absolute necessary for the survival of the entire group.

_________________
Phoenix
Level 48 Blademaster
Equipped Skills: Vak Revolver, Gan Revolver, Dek Vorv, La Repth, Juk Kruz, Rue Kruz, BiVak Rom, GiGan Zot
Other Skills: Rue Kruz, Rip Synk, Rip Saem, Crack Beat, Rue Slash, Ani Slash, Gan Crack, Gan Revolver

Wish List: Phoenix's Fire, Gold Necklace
EX-Spheres: LV 3 - Overdrive, LV 3 - Curative, LV 3 - Elemental Breath


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 08, 2007 2:17 pm 
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Zan’s MeRue Rom was the first off the block, once Primal’s final form ceased it’s spinning. There wasn’t much else to do but attack it and see what happened, now. There wasn’t anything in the environment that hinted at a solution, like the first and second forms had been. The boss hadn’t done anything overt to show them what to do, like the third form. What, then, could they do, if not a normal assault of spells and blades, to see what had what effect? No doubt they would die, unless they accidentally stumbled upon the solution, or something that would stun the boss, or something or other. Anything, really, that was effective enough to harm the boss would be immediately taken advantage of.

Following up his spell, the heavyblade assaulted the draconic head with his own sword, hoping to deal damage with attacks that rarely had much effect on bosses these days. It seemed to be more than commonplace that the monsters they face be immune to all but a small weakness. An Achilles Heel, something the hackers built into their monsters. It was, in reality, a bad method to winning the war. Why make monsters with weaknesses when you can make a monster with none? There was always some way to defeat the monsters. Perhaps it was Twilight itself adding a balance to the power of the elites; giving them whatever they wished, but at a risk. They weren’t immortal. This much they knew. With Jett and Kuja dead, what seemed like ages ago when it was really only days… The elites were bound to be on the alert. That they hadn’t swarmed this hub, to protect it from the intrusion in progress and to eliminate their foes, was likely only my Marionette’s whim. While the mysterious flashmailer hadn’t overtly helped them, and actively worked to harm them with his bosses, he at least hadn’t alerted those who controlled this area. Otherwise… They would never have gotten this far.

Without any more warning than the scent of ozone and Rayo’s shouted spell name, Zan leaped out of the path of an incoming magical barrage. Lanceor, Vulcan, Yarthkins, and Wryneck made up the party of four, assaulting the boss with all of their magical might. There wasn’t much more power that could be put into a spell at the level of the wavemaster, at least not with what he had on him. He truly had to be wanting this over, to go all out like that.

Almost as soon as the barrage of elements was over, Dien leaped into the fray, taking up the strikes where Zan had vacated them. A twinned pair of skills struck the dragon head, with little more effect than anything else seemed to. Phoenix, too, joined the assault, mirroring Dien with the Crack and Revolver pair of attacks.

With every element except wood represented, it was time for the two strongest in their group to join the attack. While Nighthand was still deciding what to do, Nall had seen the elemental plan, and pulled out a scroll of his own. The Blademaster seemed to have a selection of them that Nighthand would envy, but he didn’t use them often. Who knew where he even got the things.

”Leafblight!”

The second-level Juk Rom spell erupted around the boss, eventually dissipating in a draft of wind and the scent of spring. Refreshing to a few of them, had they had the chance to savor it. Interesting, that a scroll of destructive power could bring some of them respite from the harshness of their current reality.

Primal, however, found nothing savory about the use of the scroll. Nor did he find anything in any of the attacks. The magical spells all seemed to strike, their damage being taken by the boss like any good tank, but there was no lasting effect. The swords that were swung glanced off the hard metallic scales. Had any of them read the legend of Beowulf, they would have likened this monster to Grendel, who had a protection from the weapons of man; anything made of metal. In this case, too, it seemed that magic was doing little more than steel.

And it was Primal’s turn.

It should come as no shock to any of them that the boss had a number of deadly attacks to put to use on their part. A few of them had hung back; whether from lack of strength or surplus of caution, none could say. Going with the standard ‘you hit me I hit you back’ philosophy the boss seemed to run on this whole time, Phoenix, Dien, Zan, Rayo, and Nall would be the targets.

And, as any well-trained animal would be, Primal reacted exactly as expected. Closest to the boss at the moment was Phoenix, fresh from his gan-based attacks. Moments later, however, he was some distance away. The heavy dragon head had slammed into the player’s body, sending him flying. Through it all, the mouth hadn’t opened; no attempt to bite or breath fire. It was, basically, a punch.

Dien, next closest, was struck with a follow-up attack. The same dragon-fisted arm swung in the ponderous equivalent of a backhand. Added damage tore through the blademaster, however, as the back half of the ‘arm’ was coated in blades. Lacerations and force tore the life from the blademaster as it tore the flesh from bones. Where Phoe had survived his attack, Dien wasn’t able to.

Zan was, of course, next on the list of those closest. Primal took a pair of steps, surprisingly fast for a creature of his bulk. It wasn’t as though the boss would be uselessly slow, of course. He may be a tank, but tanks could move quickly when they needed to.

Zan, almost before he could react, found himself impaled on the two-foot-long blade capping the tail of the dragon. Lifted in the air momentarily, he was flung to the side and left to die; not that THAT would take long.

The only two players left to kill were further away than the already injured trio. Thus, they required another type of attack.

Spreading his arms out like the previous fire-based attack, something different happened this time. With a metallic CHINK, the scaled segments snapped apart. A fifteen-piece swarm of metal chunks and blades was suddenly hovering in the air around the boss, much more mobile than they seemed like they should be for their bulk. They were, basically, several-hundred-pound chunks of steel and blades. Yet they floated like insects on the wind.

Abruptly, the swarm of metallic segments broke into three groups. Five of them hovered around the boss still, with five sent out towards Nall and five towards Rayo. The head took on Rayo, the tail blades Nall.

The master of time was impaled with shocking speed, but he wasn’t down for the count. He yanked the blade from his gut, but before he could counterattack it had been yanked out of his grasp. Instantly, Nall was elsewhere; across the room, where the boss would be hard-pressed to get to him. There, he sank to a knee, trying to stay alive, not yet casting a healing spell. His flashmail was more important.

While Rayo was being assaulted with a fire-breathing head, the equivalent of a Vak Divider being delivered to his person, Nall was letting off the vital bit of information they needed to deal with this form.

Flashmail!
From: Nall
To: The Party
Subject: The Trick

While that thing stabbed me, I saw what the trick is. You can kill the segment of the piece while it’s attacking you. It’s something Kuja used on his cape, the cape I have now, only it’s backwards. There, he was only vulnerable when he was idle. Here, it’s only vulnerable when it’s attacking. The weak point is where it would join the rest of the segments. It shouldn’t take too much to deal away with one, but the trouble is when; you can only harm it when it is literally dealing damage to you. I don’t know if I can continue in this battle; it’s harder to heal my body than it is the rest of yours, sometimes. Now’s one of those times.


And there they had it. The trick to defeating the boss. A vicious trick, something none of them would have seen nearly as easily as Nall. It seemed, despite the seeming omniscience that Marionette possessed, his boss wasn’t perfect to stop his sight. Twice in a row he had proven perfect.

Now they could only hope they would succeed.

_________________
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 08, 2007 5:49 pm 
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Life could be fleeting sometimes, though thankfully not as much as it could have been. The scale segments that had impacted him had less edges on them, but it didn’t help the pain, only his ability to remain whole. His health was rather low, a blinking red condition according to his menu if he cared to look for sure. If the Ap Do had remained in effect from earlier the caster might have been able to do something, but that would have been too convenient. Casting spells against the incoming projectiles could have also mitigated some of the threat, but the wavemaster had went dry just moments before. Nall’s mail left some doubts in his mind by what it suggested for their chances. If the hovering menaces could be dispersed if only separate but not attacking, then they’d be a cinch to clear away. The group could probably take out half before they even returned to Primal. Yet, being forced to be damaged at the same time made that much, much worse.

If the spells, summons, and sword strikes hadn’t made progress, there wasn’t any point dancing around the issue. The victim of the dragon wouldn’t be able to counterattack in time, if even Nall was too slow. Good thing this wasn’t a solo adventure, parties gave players such flexibility.

Rayo consumed yet another Mage’s Soul, leaving only one more of the standard SP recovery item on hand for the remainder of the battle. The more advanced varieties were still available, but they too were few in number.

Targeting the players unlucky enough to have been taken out in the last rampage, he targeted the ghost of Dien and Zan as well. Both have them seemed to have a strong sense of appreciation for tactics, so it’d be a waste for them not to be around and able for the next two minutes.


“Rip Maen! Ol Repth!”

The wizard desperately wanted to use up his remaining SP for an Ol Repth, even though it clearly wouldn’t be enough to max out his health again. Even if he was at full, it was doubtful whether or not he’d even survive the same type of attack again, or the beating up he was going to force upon himself. Better to save the magic to guarantee his place at the top of Primal’s list.

<The Party

I’m going to draw Primal at me again, it’s better to do so from a distance or else he might just respond with close range blows again that won’t make progress for us. If and when he sends blades my way, the ones which impacted me before or otherwise, pulverize them. I could care less if I’m bombarded with magic or cleaved in half so long as we take out some of them too. It probably won’t do much good to attack otherwise at the moment or else we’ll just end up with several victims instead of minimizing our losses.

Rayo>

With his flashmail sent, the sorcerer gave the party a moment or two to read the contents and get into any positions they planned to take before proceeding. His choice of spells didn’t really matter if they weren’t dealing damage, but it might as well be something powerful in case the detached scales near the primary form could damaged as is.

“RaVak Don!”

The summoned spheres of inferno dropped on top of Primal, likely for no damage but done for effect anyway. With any luck, the spellcaster who had been lucky enough not to die from the previous attempt on his life would lose it now. Now all that was left was the impending pain… again. Dying here really wasn’t a fun experience and this field had forced that on him three times too many as it was. Maybe someone else would volunteer for the second go of it if his turn as the bulls eye produced results.

_________________
Rayo
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty


Last edited by Rayo on Fri Mar 09, 2007 4:06 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 09, 2007 1:17 am 
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The sight of their new foe was truly something to behold, Primal now both a creature of bulk and unnatural grace in turn. Though it was a bit of an exaggeration, Zan's first reflexive thought was that he moved like Nall, with that kind of 'where the hell did he go?' effect that the Blademaster so effortlessly wielded. With Primal, however, it wasn't exactly impossible to see his motions, just backbreakingly difficult to react to them. The boss was notably, and understandably, annoyed at their attempt to slay it. For anyone that had been paying even the slightest bit of attention, it was pretty easy to gouge that this particular boss was a fan of the old schoolyard fighting system that hosted "He started it!" as its foundational reasoning. A rather hearty punch collided with Phoenix, knocking him back while another smacked into Dien, the smell of blood erupting into what was left of Zan's heightened smell. At first the Heavy Blade thought that the impact had torn open flesh, like someone smacking hard enough into a wall, but when the fist came back away from the flying (and ghosting) Dien, the blood-soaked blades along its 'back' gave him the real story. Youch.

Still looking at Dien and where Primal had been a moment ago, the sudden shock to his gut and proceeding feeling of slowly seeping cold that often came with massive blood loss was initially confusing. Wha...huh? Blinking, Zan ignored the fact that Primal was in front of him, eyes drifting down to the sight of the blade nestled perfectly into his abdomen. That's when the pain hit. Though he didn't scream, Zan's face flushed a darker color, like he was suddenly holding his breath and forcing all the blood up into his head. It was all he could do to keep from crying out as he was lifting into the air, his body sliding that much deeper onto the blade that skewed it. He was suddenly reminded of the Blackest Knight, having found himself in a similar predicament with the creature in the Ani Room. Just as soon as he was in the air, the Lycan was soaring through it like a rag doll, the Plures Vultus Mortis taking advantage of the severity of his injury as he bounced and slumped to lay on the ground. His HP blinked with a warning of his critical status in case, you know, he was able to ignore the hemorrhaging wound on his torso.

Although his brain was having a difficult time thinking of the solution to rid himself of his current position (a healing spell or item being obvious, but yet out of his fading grasp), his eyes had no problem surveying what was still going on around him. The odd creature that served as Primal's arms exploded into fifteen segments of blade and metal, only one being nothing more than the monster's head. Such a head, followed by four other bladed segments, vaulted towards Rayo, fire spewing in the first's wake. Five remained orbiting their master while the others decided it would be fun to play pin the hole on the Ex-Elite with Nall. Though Nall was still alive, he didn't seem to be making any attempt to get the hell up and help his followers, his team. Just like the motherfucker, came a bitter thought. Zan was so unbelievably tired of the little shit just standing around all philosophical, like he was just so unable to use his code senses and fight with them at the same time. When the Lycan had first joined the group, he thought it was the Blademaster simply gouging the team's strength for fights to come. The more he hung around the guy, however, the more he started to think that Nall was just freaking lazy.

Which was when he got the Flashmail.

Ah. Injured and can't get up. Zan, feeling a bit guilty, was momentarily unaware of the loss of pain and return of warmth to his once-dying body. Hand coming to sift through the ripped material of his shirt, his fingers glided along perfectly new skin, smooth like the skin of the recently-healed always was. The fading light of the Ol Repth could only be the work of one other person in the room, the only one that ever really seemed to care about the group's recovery. Glancing at Rayo, he gave him a nod of thanks. Standing up made the Lycan dizzy. The second flashmail hit him then, this one belonging to their local tactician and 'red mage' of sorts. It was a sound plan, especially with what Nall had discovered. Speaking of...that had been a little easy, hadn't it? Zan sighed, only then realizing that defeating the segments would only bring about an even bigger bad. It was how the God damn Elites built their twisted castles and slave beasts. Ah well, it was still better than doing nothing. Taking away its weapons, even if it got better ones, still seemed like a step in the right direction.

Rayo's attack kept the blades' attention on him, attention that had never necessarily left. The head was still amongst them, threatening and indulging in its need to spew out the flames from whatever napalm glands resided in its throat. Zan's health was full thanks to Rayo, but each step he ran towards the Wavemaster made his vision sway, made the feverish, cold sweat trickle quicker down his back. God damn it, it was happening again. Glancing at the critical state of his friend's hit points, the Heavy Blade needed to make a decision. Quickly. His SP had almost regained to two Ol Repths, but not quite. If he didn't juice up with one, and soon, he was going to be in a bad way. But, looking at Rayo and the promised assault of the segments, he couldn't help but feel he would have to wait. Besides, the poor bastard was probably almost out of the Mage Souls he kept using to fuel his campaign of both offense and support. Sighing, trying to turn the sight of ten Rayo's into one, Zan tossed up his hand and mumbled an Ol Repth, healing the man as Rayo had healed him. Not a second later and he also tossed his only Mage Soul into Rayo's inventory, hoping that such a thing would do the tactician some good.

And now it was time to put Rayo's plan into action.

The world turning all the wrong colors around him, his senses lying to him, telling him he was hearing out of his nose, seeing out of his ears, and smelling out of his eyes, Zan drew out his Horse Killer. Only a few more seconds, Zan. Keep it together. It was a chanted mantra in his skull, the only thing keeping him from giving into the wash of vertigo and dementia that was beginning to settle in. At any other time he would have laughed at the goofy rewiring of his senses, but it wasn't particularly funny at the moment. Not to him, anyway. Reinier would still laugh. That in and of itself made him laugh as he stumbled towards Rayo, watching his SP bar with an eager alertness as he tried to keep everything in focus. The first blaze of ERROR appears along his cheek, crawling like an earth worm from his mouth and into his eye, only to flow out of his ear slither down his arm like some sort of mobile tattoo. Kind of cool, but, you know, mostly not. There! Practically yelling out the Ol Repth, Zan felt it all retract like a bad dream, like a hacker's acid trip. Shaking his head, feeling weak but together again, he finally brought the Horse Killer into a reasonable grip and vaulted at the segments.

Time to die, bitches. Not exactly clever, and probably untrue, but it felt good to think just the same.

Though Zan's senses and Instinct weren't there to guide him with any sort of superhuman grace, he still did his best to bob and weave between oncoming segments, rolling over one just to get away from another that had zipped past his head. On his feet as quickly as he had been on the floor, Zan hefted the weapon with both hands onto the first bladed segment (ignoring the head, not wanting to be disappointed again like he had the last time). Using the butt of his sword to knock away another that had tried to interfere with his little mission, Zan slammed his Horse Killer onto the same segment as before. He was having a difficult time telling whether or not he had actually hit it, but that didn't matter. It never did anymore. What mattered was his constant (and slowly failing) evasion of the blades as he focused on that segment, taking the time to aim a strike at any that he couldn't avoid before going back to the one that held his attention this entire time. The lycanthrope couldn't keep up this rhythm forever. He severely needed Dien, or someone, to come up and help out Rayo with his little situation.

That or the both of them were going to die very soon. But eh, everyone has their own priorities, right?

_________________
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
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Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).


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PostPosted: Sat Mar 10, 2007 1:57 pm 
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She was sure it was simply mental, but whatever the cause, something made this second paralysis tougher to shake off somehow than the first. Maybe, like Sophie, she was doing it herself. Maybe it was the shock of being outright killed that had snapped her out of the reverie the first time. But whatever the case, even once she could move again, she found her muscles didn’t seem to want to coordinate. As she pushed to her feet, she was in time to see the last stages of creation of their next opponent bloom into being. Somehow, she didn’t feel the luckier for it.

This feeling was reinforced as her standing put her in the path of its first attack as well. Not having moved, she was well within the attach range of the creature, and having only one easy method of evasive maneuver available at the moment, she took it – she just dropped again.

The move was enough to get her out of the flight path of the daggers which materialized around their adversary, but the fire was a much less pointed projectile, and there was no way to get out of it’s way. There was also no way to keep from feeling it, to ignore the sensation of fire licking her skin as her HP dropped. She managed not to make any sound – barely – but her body was rigid with it, the hands over her head clenched into fists. As soon as the attacked died off, she rolled, trying to put the fire out, and used a Health Drink.

Now she could feel that spell as well. And it did feel good, but the memory of the fire, of the pain, remained at the forefront of her mind as she again got shakily to her feet. She read Zan’s Flashmail, and with almost painful slowness, targeted the monster. If..

But there was a barrage already in progress, and Senna, momentarily dumbfounded, just watched and tried to shield herself from the overwash of powerful magic. And in the end… who knew it if was effective. The only things she did know was its revenge on those who had attacked it was swift and powerful. Several members of the party fell, and further others were damaged. It was getting a little predictable. Too bad that predictability couldn’t be used against the beast, she thought.

But then… well, maybe it could. As the creature’s attack finished, Nall’s Flashmail came. It made sense, now that he’d said it, but she had to admit it wasn’t something she likely would have discovered on her own. She wasn’t sure any of them would have, or could have. With the speed and strength of its attacks, it was highly unlikely that the one being attacked could react fast enough to get a blow in on the detached bit. Thus, Rayo’s plan made perfect sense.

Tilting her head a little, she drew a bead on Rayo. Well, not precisely on him, but on the space in front of it. Zan suggested water attacks previously and that made sense now. This had less to do with any logic about the creature than from her knowledge that of all the elements she had access to magically, the one she could do the most damage with right now was Rue. She could have tried a physical attack, but it looked like Zan was moving in for that, and she didn’t want to get in his way. More and more, he was looking like something she didn’t want to mess with in any way, so she just called up her spell list. GiRue Kruz, she guessed. She would try to get off two of the spells if there was time, and avoid hitting the others with them if she was able, but she wasn’t going to do TOO much about it. Defeating this enemy and getting out of here had to come first, and she couldn’t manage the second until the first had been accomplished.

_________________
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 4:25 am 
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Rayo's plan went into action with little pause, and nearly every aspect went according to plan. The vak spell was more than enough to irritate the boss, causing the five pieces that had initially attacked him to be joined by the other attacking five. Oddly, though, the head and tail segments themselves pulled back.

Still, eight heavy metal blade things was enough. They swarmed in the air as Zan converged on them, ready to deal his damage. Blade in hand he swung at piece after piece, almost impossible to tell which he hit and which he didn't as they swirled around.

Through it all, pieces were diving at both Rayo and Zan, slicing through flesh like tissue and barely pausing to attack again. This left little chance to hit any particular one, but more than enough to hit something. Which was exactly what Senna's spell did.

The limitations of GiRue Kruz, unfortunately, was that it could only hit one thing at a time. After all, it was a single-target spell, no matter how powerful it was with items and buffs.

Despite that, however, the spell was apparently enough. As a segment struck their wavemaster, the ice chunks struck it, and when the ensuing mist cleared, there were only seven chunks of metal floating around. Of course, three of them immediately chose to start their dance around Senna herself, leaving two each for Rayo and Zan, but that hardly mattered. It was painful, but livable, to be the "decoy" for the segments; assuming an influx of healing spells was present of course.

One down... fourteen more to go.

--------------ooc:
The head and tail segments won't die when you hit them, but others will disintegrate with sufficient damage. Almost there....

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 6:46 am 
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Although Zan had, theoretically, helped temporary pull Rayo from oblivion ala Floating Blades of Pain, he now seemed to find himself in a similar predicament. It had been a good plan and all, but with only Rayo and he executing it...it wasn't turning out so hot. No matter how many assaults he dodged, three or four more would break through and tear across his skin, spilling splash after splash of blood onto the plain battleground. Sadly enough for the both of them, Rayo's flame-ridden assault on the boss hit. It should have been a good thing, but it only ended up drawing five more of the damn things to them. Zan let out a rather audible sound of frustration, fatigue from both his disease and the constant movement he needed to keep going to stay on his feet beginning to settle in. The whole lack-of-stamina thing wasn't new by any means, it was a part of being in the Freedom Fighters, but it never got easier or less frustration and distracting. The Heavy Blade, despite himself, couldn't help but focus as much on the need for rest as he was on the things causing it.

With only a few more minutes to go before Zan was going to simply collapse or ghost from the constant afflictions of blade on flesh, a crackle and explosion of ice and water shook him from his combat trance. The segments, if only for a microsecond, seemed to pause, Zan's eyes darting to the one that had come to help. Senna. God bless her. It pulled three of the segments towards her, leaving two on the lycanthrope and two on the Wavemaster. Zan's first instinct was to help Senna, but found he had a faith brewing in that spot as well. She could handle herself. Senna had already proven herself useful in the field and, now that she was amongst the ranks of the Infected, he couldn't help but give her the benefit of the doubt. If nothing else she'd need to learn to deal with odds placed against her, something he and his companions dealt with on a daily basis. It was simply something to be accepted when in any situation that was tainted by the Elites. They would always be more. They would always be stronger, faster, and smarter. All the Freedom Fighters could really hope to do at this point was pray to stumble into some blind luck. It's how they had defeated the Elites in the past.

Able to handle herself or no, Senna had at least lightened the odds placed against him. With only two bugging him rather than the previous amount (Zan taking that moment to notice the head and tail segments had floated back to their master), the lycanthrope was more or less comfortable. Sure, he was hurting, but he once again just barely had enough SP to rid himself of such. The Horse Killer, after a paused moment, became the Life Sword in Zan's hands. A muttered incantation, a duck from a flying, living buzz-saw of sorts, and he was healed. Although he could already feel his Viral Wave approaching the shores of his character data again, proving that the Ol Repths were getting less and less effective at holding it back, he felt pretty safe in the assumption his SP would be back in time to shove it in its place for the umpteenth time. Wielding the Horse Killer once more, the lycanthrope barely parried a flanked pincer attack from the two segments that had chosen him as their target. Such a thing earned him a rather nasty gouge along his side, but by the way they had come at him, Zan knew he was lucky it wasn't worse.

The fact that the sight of his own blood was making him hungry and, disgustingly, temped let Zan know just how bad the wolf was getting suffocated by the scenario as a whole. The PVM's constant pesterings, as well as Primal's seeming unwillingness to die mixed in with a healthy pinch of segment slices, was wearing aspect of him down. His inner animal, something that was alert even when he was down for the count, was starting to whimper and plea for some freedom from it all. Zan couldn't let even that slow him down, no matter how much he was willing to. The never-ending swirl and violent zippings of his two segments kept him in constant maneuvering mode, the occasional close-encounter deflected by a tactical slide of his blade. Although he was playing the defensive rather nicely now that he had only the duo to deal with, the offensive cards simply weren't coming into hand. Rather than wait for the usual obvious openings to present themselves, the lycanthrope was going to actually have to focus on getting his attacks just right. Ugh, even Primal's freaking arm parts were being smarter than the Freedom Fighters. So not fair.

Stopping the pity party right then and there, Zan instead did what he had intended, eyes peeled for the perfect strikes. He waited for both to attack at the same time, spinning to the one closest to him and attacking it before it had time to (ideally, anyway) recover from its motion. That's all he, or anybody, were really able to do. Attack and hope it hit. The way the segments were moving? It was nigh impossible to tell if you hit a solid air pocket from their graceful jerks this way and that or if you had actually struck them. Strike after strike, slice after slice was aimed at his foes, taking in the time to roll and leap around this way and that (enduring the painfully successful attacks on his own person that were being made more than he would have hoped), eyes checking his companions whenever he had even the slightest second. When the next idea popped into his head, Zan felt vaguely selfish. Thing was, he didn't have the SP to support and it (as seemed the usual with the secondary virus taking hold as it was) appeared that he'd need to stick to the physical strikes.

Flashmail!
To: Party
From: Zan
Subject: Focused Attacks

I know we have our own segments to deal with (most of us, anyway), but I think I know a quicker way to bring these bastards down. We all saw how awesomely Senna took down the first one. I think that if someone can spam the segments that are focusing on me with spells while I continue to use my physical weapons, we should be able to bring them down a hell of a lot quicker. This way I can go to you guys (namely Senna and Rayo), and offer some assistance with my sword while you guys use and replenish your magic. Taking them on individually is either going to be lethal for us or far too slow. Let's take the last of our energies and pool this attack as a group again. Senna, when you run out of SP (should you choose to accept the plan, of course), use a Mage's Soul if you have one. If not, both of us using our weapons and Rayo and the others using magic on whatever we're attacking should do the trick.

Seeing as Rayo has the stronger magics, everyone, I'd just start giving him your Mage's Souls for this. It'll keep him fueled longer and these segments will fall that much quicker.

Again, just a suggested plan. Whatever we're going to do, we should probably stop on it, no?

-Zan

Flashmail! End


With that done, the lycanthrope went back to hacking at the air-rolling, metallic sons of bitches. Zan was careful not to get crazed with his assaults, mixing in coordination and proper aiming with his evasive tactics the best he was able. Mind you, in his current state, it wasn't exactly all that much. The Heavy Blade found what refuge he could in the fact that he hadn't completely lost it yet, that he wasn't madly flailing at the swirling appendage pieces. Mind you, Zan wasn't entirely sure he was going to be able to refrain from such for much longer. What he did know is that he was going to make himself keep it together so long as the group needed him to beat the things down. He could flip out in the comfort and safety of the Hideout. The sword seemed to get heavier and heavier with each lofted swing, the strength in his arms beginning to fail. Though it was, more than likely, just his need for a good night’s sleep that was doing it, Zan feared the Plures Vultus Mortis was beginning to degenerate his stats on the whole. Shit. The new revelation only made his need for haste in the operation that much more intense.

He'd be able to hold out for a little while longer, but only God knew what would happen when it all came crumbling down in the end.

_________________
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
Wishlist
Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).


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PostPosted: Tue Mar 13, 2007 6:00 pm 
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Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
Posts: 288
Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.
(Aw man! You know your game must be really off when such a simple plan seems to falter before your very eyes. Heh. If only this were only a game... Everythign would be cool and froody if this were just the virtual game it was suppose to be. But no. This stuff mattered, and so everything counted. Like now, for instance. Yeah, his attack went through, but his thrown knives didn't do jack. And more impotantly, the Primal bugger got a bead on him, big time, which meant that he was gonna suffer for his little act. Canti was half-expecting to be sucked up inside like it did the others. Such was not the case, though on some level...he might've hoped that that WAS what was gonna happen. The jackhole grabbed him and threw him, his reaction going as follows...)

Canti: Wait, that isn't necessar- Eeeeee!!

*BAM!*

Canti: Owww....

(That, dear friends, was the sound of an aerodynamic Twin Blade hitting a tree and severely testing the threshold of his consciousness. This was followed by a strained "Oof!" as Senna landed on top of him, causing further harm and insult to injury. What was he? A throw rug? Ah, but that wasn't the least of his problems. Ever heard the expression that you have to suffer to live? Well, in that case, Canti was doing some serious living, right after the thorns struck. That was...well...something like this, actually...)

Canti: Huh? What the fuck was th- AAAAAAAAUUUUGGGHHHHH!!!!!

(Just talking had set everything in his body on fire, a kind of fire that he couldn't resist. Damn poisons... So yeah. Definite writhing in pain for Canti. However, he didn't so much as wish for any sort of death as he still wasn't coming to grips with what the hell just happened here. He didn't see it coming - too dazed - and he didn't know what it was. He felt as though his own body was giving him the universal "Fuck You" on its own. So, unfortunately for a while, you wouldn't get much of a coherent thought out of Canti, much less words or anything else of any sense. YOu ever seen Yu Yu Hakusho during the Dark Tournament where Yusuke Urameshi was trying to absorb Genkai's Spirit Wave Orb? Think of that level of suffering, and then multiply it be pi and 42, then shake it up and start all over for every single movement he made. That...hurt. Hell, even his ear reacting to the ring of Zan sending him a Flashmail hurt. He tried to ignore everything and everything, but it wasn't working. It was like trying to learn Buddhism without letting go of all things surrounding you. You couldn't do it because your efforts were too focused on the trying and not of the attainment of peace. And with that little data lodged in your vessels, we now return you to your regularly-scheduled Canti, now beginning to recover from the shock.)

Canti: I think...I bit...my tongue...

(Blood was everywhere. He didn't know what the hell he did, but he must've torn at himself pretty bad in the frenzy of pain. His health was in the red zone, so Canti coaxed a little Repth out of himself, not daring to move just yet. No, not yet. Pain still lingered badly upon the fringes of his senses. Not chemical now, but physical and ever-present. He ached, badly. He checked the mail from Zan. He'd heard mention of the PVM, of course, but...this was...pretty deep, and damn serious. This stuff was gonna kill him, and there wasn't anything Canti could think of that would help. If Zan himself didn't know anything, how could Canti? He didnt' know code. That was Dien's depart...ment. Wait... Was that what they were always talking about? Well, at least there was some hope. However, Canti felt like heaving the contents of his stomach...which amounted to nothing, because he didn't HAVE a fucking stomach right now. He was feeling all of the pain and none of the relief. Repth was not a cure for The World's uncommon pain.

TO: Zan
FROM: Canti
SUBJECT: Heh

Not unless you'd do the same for some poor shmuck from Boston, Damon Fortis. Otherwise, no deal.


(Morbid humor, but better than none. Canti got up again and stretched painfully as the battle moved on. Understand, this was not some easy thing. He was not a fricking piece of meat. He was an under-the-drinking-age average human being who just went through the most pain that his body might ever go through. You DO NOT simply get up from that like it was nothing. So, while his muscles tried to make themselves humanly possible to move, a cool thing happened. Nighthand whalloped Primal down...and then out of his third form. Wait... That was good only because it got Nall out of him, but now things were changing...again. It tarted after they got that mask, and Canti wanted to shout "NOT AGAIN!!" as it began, but he stopped short. See, at first, it was like those Hellraiser movies. You know...with that Pinhead fella? Creepy stuff. Clive Barker rules. Anyway, the whole place was now flat ground and sunny sky. And, oh yeah, Primal had transformed. This guy was a real freak. Just how many layers did he have on him, dammit? Well, the creature was now apparently part dragon now, as it fired both blades and fire at the lot of them. This was the part where Canti does NOT stand around like an idiot, thank you. No, he jumped back, using his wings to enhance the jump and his blades to defend against friggen' scimitars being lobbed at him.)

Canti: Fire and blades... Damn, now he's alot more like me. Except...I hate dragons.

(Hated 'em because they were dragons, not because they spat fire. Dragons were amongst the hardest monsters in the game to deal with, and he ought to know, having fought them often enough. Well, Primal wasn't really like a dragon. He just had these powers... So, that left the obvious question of NOW WHAT?! Well, Zan had some ideas...both before AND after the metallic bits started attacking. Primal's new form was well-defended. However, Canti noted the part of Zan's statement about how Senna had taken down a segment with a spell. Just one, though, he'd noticed. Wait a minute... Pffft, of course! He knew what to do now. Canti smiled, feeling well enough to get back into the fray. He leapt up, taking on a ten-foot altitude as he flew towards the consternation now, specifically over Senna and the Primal Segments surrounding her.)

Canti: Senna, duck! Juk Rom!

(What he was hoping for was that if Senna ducked as he casted Juk Rom, the segments would be hit be the wood-based whirlwind and that she would barely get a scratch. In any case, the multi-target spell was meant to get at the segments focused on her as Canti passed overhead. He also said...)

Canti: Come and get me, bastards! Ap Do!

(Speed Charm in hand, the Twin Blade's reflexes enhanced, and then he jetted off over the rest. He was gonna play decoy at top speed in an open sky against fire-element things. This would be, at the very least, an interestign battle.)

_________________
I'll have a doozy of a sig later, I swear. It'll reflect ".hack//CODE" an' everything.

Hey look! A profile! It's got items and stats and things! Cool! If it isn't fully up to date, it will be, so don't worry 'bout it.


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 14, 2007 5:08 am 
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Joined: Wed Apr 09, 2003 7:21 pm
Posts: 485
The plan had worked, but almost too well. After sending off his fiery invitation to Primal, the response was more than he’d expected. Two thirds of the airborne threats homed in on him, spinning past left and right, from all directions. A quick Ap Do helped him speed out of the path of a segment that alone seemed more dangerous than a fire blast from the head, almost blood thirsty in the way it pursued him, twisting around to cut the back of his ankle as it passed before. A staff strike proved pointless again, his physical actions too sluggish in comparison to even dent it with a few meager HP damage. It was his battle perspective after all of this time. Dodging at close range was something the mage had been forced to become familiar with over time, but his favored attack method was clearly from a distance. His physical offenses had been restricted to specific instances, not enough to build up enough skill to accurately peg one of the scales.

The free level two cure spell from Zan had helped build up insulation from the continual blows, but not enough. An Ol Repth of his own was added, bringing his stamina to around 500 or so before another cut through his flesh. Tilting his Great Elite up, he nudged one of his pursuers to a different course, letting it cleave open air as an alternative. Where was the help? The heavy blade was swinging rapidly, constantly forcing the movement of Primal’s bunch away, but they returned too quickly. A choice spell from Senna ended one’s pursuit, reducing their number by one, but the group was capable of a whole lot more.

The wavemaster realized his own movements, even with spell speeds, couldn’t handle anything nearby. His observational talents proved far more effective from the edge of his range, not well within it. Being close to Zan didn’t allow for him to participate in the deconstruction of their enemy, only work on as a distraction. The spare Mage’s Soul was downed in advance, his life wasn’t in imminent danger quite yet so the fuel would be required soon. Originally Rayo would have been fine with being taken out for the plan, but not like this. Friendly fire was an acceptable death, not being minced to pieces while people sat back.

The wizard chanted off a soon to be forgotten La Repth before he separated from Zan and darted across the battlefield. The boy wouldn’t draw the two still tailing him towards anyone else, or try to get near Primal, but acquiring the right spatial area between himself and his ally was key. If a level two water spell from the long arm had been sufficient, then his own kruz with his thunder backing would definitely do the trick.


“Rai Kruz, Rai Kruz, Rai Kruz, Rai Kruz!”

His preoccupation with Zan’s matched up enemies allowed for both of his pair to each get in two near clean, almost perfect strikes against his chest. The mess on his chest didn’t leave anything so decent as an x design, but it hurt enough that his tactic was made questionable for a moment. Another healing spell might have been wise, but they made another sweep, managing to sever the arm holding his wand completely. In his moment of tunnel vision, the mage had created a brilliant mess for himself. His electrical masses swarmed in on the swarmers themselves around Zan, but his situation had become that much worse. Casting attribute raising magic or curative aid required no focus; it had nothing to do with being second nature since black magic worked the same way if not more so, but the target didn’t demand concentration. The kruz spell was attached to his thunder cloak, but the sensation of a lost limb made it impossible to focus on actually trying to track anything. Using some willpower, the magic user barely tore his remaining arm from the damaged one for the purpose of shielding his remaining body with a spare wand. The random selection nearly resulted in his Almighty Wand, but it’s not as if that was a fact he’d actually be able to notice. The second reason it didn’t matter was because one of the parts flitting in the air back and forth knocked it out of reach a moment too soon, intentional or not.

The added pain told him the attackers didn’t believe him to be out of commission enough, so their location was evident. Those who had hurt him were right on top of him, in the state of dealing damage more often than not. Placing his palm on his chest, he marked the spot for his spell.


“RaVak Don!”

The spell wasn’t attached to any of his temporarily out of reach equipment and the strongest spell available, courtesy of the Flare Hydra. The collection of comets beamed his location, claiming the remaining points sustaining his life before Primal’s parts could. If he possessed any talent for suicide, the fire spell would take out share of the group. In ghost form his body was no longer mauled, but the lingering pain meant he would greet any quick revival with mixed feelings.

_________________
Rayo
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 15, 2007 6:01 am 
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Exalted Player
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Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 1:59 am
Posts: 226
Location: The "Who's Online List," Stalking People...
After taking so many one hit kills, one might think that the person on the butt end of those would begin to grow slightly more accustomed to their occurrence. That one would be wrong. Being killed again and again so completely and utterly rubbed in the fact that he was weak and inferior for Dien, and every time he received one of those blows the realization that death was accompanying it just made it that much worse. Well, at least when he had time to realize he had been killed. Usually he didn’t know what the hell was going on until his ghost appeared over his body. The time between death and rematerializing? While the body his mind thought was real was mutilated and utterly torn apart, the blademaster usually found himself in some alternate reality or internalized dream world where everything was in terms of or related to him.

This one time was different, though. Instead of dying on the spot as he had in times past, the injuries took their time, letting him bleed out. He didn’t actually lose consciousness at any point—just slowly let his body lose HP through the gashes that Primal’s ‘fist’ had left. His body had faded straight into being a ghost with no lag time in the middle, and to say the least the player was relieved. Okay, so it wasn’t anything to quell the pain of having his body torn to shreds, and it couldn’t combat his inability to stay alive, but at least it was some solace in the storm.

He’d forgotten what it felt like to turn into a ghost. His first experience had been in the tower, that god-forsaken place had given him a whole load of firsts, not the least of which was his first connection with Danielle. God, he missed her. She gave him a reason to keep going and to press on. There was no saying just what about her did that for him, but her installation had helped him in more ways than he could possibly know.

Get her back. His mind begged, replaying events as they’d happened. Could he really not remember? In the beginning of it, he was a blubbering mess. She helped him shape up and man up, helped him to put a collar about the emotions that had been running rampant. It didn’t take very long for them to descend into the dungeon, and even there she acted as a source of strength. Skeletons had come out of the closet, but somehow he’d survived. They had survived. The entire group that was the Freedom Fighters was now centralized in this room, the object of their struggles within their grasp, and the only thing standing in their way to completion a measly dragon-body-faced freak of coding. Heh, yeah, that was it. No matter how many times he was killed he could always get back up to take another blow, and on this team it was all about taking the blows.

His body came back into being, pins and needles covering its resurrection from top to bottom as the sword rematerialized right in the hand where he’d left it. There was something he had been missing until now – a reason to keep fighting. If only to fulfill their struggle on this field thus far and get to the hub, it was what they had and it would have to drive them. For Dien, though, there was something more.

Danielle had been taken from him. By fulfilling his obligation to the Freedom Fighters and finishing out his service, he would be able to find her and save her. It was a long way to go yet, but he would do it. She was worth it, more than perhaps anyone he’d ever known. Whether by one swing of the sword or through a thousand more, he would make his way to her. Then happened something that had not been seen on him for quite some time, and perhaps only Canti would notice it. A smirk covered his face, that same confident smirk he used to wear whenever playing before. It was fun. Sure, people’s lives may hang in the balance, but that didn’t change the fact that this was still a game and it was still meant to be played for fun. If someone couldn’t derive joy or pleasure out of fulfilling the game’s goals of slaying monsters, fighting tough bosses, and figuring out the puzzles provided to them, then what was the point of going on?

It also provided a possible answer as to why the Elites plagued them with puzzles and bosses and unique enemies. To them, even, this was still a game. As much fun could be derived from the playing as from the setup and anticipation of people solving the riddle. It was the long-winded joy that any good hacker got out of setting up firewalls around their own system, and it took a long time to fulfill. All the more he could understand the eight people in power, and how their minds were working. In a sense, he was still hacking. Their goal had likely been to set up a challenge that no one without a motive would dare to attempt, and as the dragon launched its blades, Dien could more clearly see the game. The World had evolved with them, and had turned them all into hackers pitted in an eternal war of capture the flag. Perhaps the fear and threat of death was what made it that much more worthy of pursuit.
__________

Quote:
To: The Party
From: Nall
Re: The Trick
Message:
While that thing stabbed me, I saw what the trick is. You can kill the segment of the piece while it’s attacking you. It’s something Kuja used on his cape, the cape I have now, only it’s backwards. There, he was only vulnerable when he was idle. Here, it’s only vulnerable when it’s attacking. The weak point is where it would join the rest of the segments. It shouldn’t take too much to deal away with one, but the trouble is when; you can only harm it when it is literally dealing damage to you. I don’t know if I can continue in this battle; it’s harder to heal my body than it is the rest of yours, sometimes. Now’s one of those times.


It explained the almost childlike enthusiasm hidden in the Elite of Time’s eyes. In that same bizarre way, he was having fun. Still, there was this particular boss to deal with, and Nall had delivered the key. Attack when he attacks, then? It was a concept Dien had encountered quite often around the internet. One of the more memorable hacks he’d ever made worked on the same concept. The security had been an active deflection sequence with a thick layer of shells that made direct entry almost impossible without secure access. How he’d gotten through all of the shells was by that same method: when one tried to deflect him back out, he found a single small hole in the coding and used that as a basis for connecting to the next layer of the shell. A dynamic timing matrix also made it incredibly difficult to break in, but that was entirely besides the point.

Eyes alight with the sudden revelation of the similarities, Dien watched as events unfolded. The dragon had broken into segments and individual “shells,” all of them attending to a different variety of purposes. After their onslaught towards Rayo, one of the pieces of the puzzle had been rendered finished by the adept work of Senna. A flashmail arrived from Zan, this one depicting a plan as it had appeared in his own mind. It was all attack, and almost no strategy. Sure, they might be able to take down maybe one of the hunks of metal that was floating around him, but it was a better bet to time the attack—especially if Nall’s statement held particularly true.
Quote:
To: The Party
From: Dien
Re: Re: Focused Attacks
Message:
While I agree that a focused attack would probably work better than our hit-or-miss tactics that we’ve been doing, I must also remind everyone that we’ve been given the key to our success. Nall said that we couldn’t hurt these things unless they were ticking HP off of us, so there is a good deal of timing called for in our strikes as well. I’m gonna get closer to Senna and try to take one or two of the chunks of metal off her case. I strongly recommend coordinating your attack so that your hits land on them at the same time their hits land on us, as that’s the only way to beat this boss.


Right, now to find the longarm he’d referenced. Not long of searching revealed her rather close by, which made the swooping hunks of steel that much easier to find as well. The typical regiment of Ap Do and Rig Gaem was self-allotted once more, and he looked to the flying dragon-parts. Huh, he had to think about this for a second. He didn’t want to deal any more damage to Senna than she was already taking in, but at the same time he had to take that risk if he was going to kill the beastie that was attacking her. Well, he could minimize it, at least. Thinking back, he tried to remember anything he could in terms of her elemental affiliations and what would be the least likely to hurt her at all. Her character design rather shouted a wind elemental, but that wasn’t available here in The World. No, Senna had been more preferential to the Rue element, now that he thought on it. At level 18, the armor was Rue-centric as well, so as a natural conclusion the Rue element would be the one least likely to tear her to shreds.

It was Glitter in his hand – something he’d picked up on the streets of Mac Anu during the assault of the Elite Eight. He really didn’t remember much of it, but that he had taken ownership after its original owner had been probably sent to slavery on Yamiyo. Of all the swords to pick from, this one was perhaps his personal favorite. Ice shimmered on its surface, and he could feel Merrows’ grip on the air about it. It truly was a sword of the Rue kingdom. All he had to do was get close enough to attack and wait.

Watching the bladed aviators was agonizing work. Still, he was glad of the fact that there were only three to choose from. What he had to watch for, though, was a strike that Senna wouldn’t be able to defend against—one that would evade her sight. In the moment he saw it, he would charge forward and strike with enough force to either wrench his arm out of socket or destroy the thing once and for all, doubtlessly taking on a few of the “shards” unto himself in the aftermath. It was just a matter of—NOW! One of the shards began to move from behind, swooping down in a manner as to strike, and Senna seemed completely oblivious.

“Rue Crack!” He shouted, not quite in range but hoping that the skill would activate just the same. Steam billowed off the sword in droves, the whole thing becoming covered by more and more ice as it was swung downward. Primal’s piece made contact, the blade delving into Senna’s back, but before it could be released the thing itself was cut by perhaps one of the stronger ice attacks the boss could know. Muscles in his arm tore on the impact, and he could feel his whole body resounding with the clang. Vision blurred, and his mouth opened once more after a quick headpiece swap.

“La Repth,” Blue waters covered both of them, healing the damages they’d obtained thus far before Dien continued, “sorry if that hurt, but that’s the only way to get ‘em.”

_________________
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Image|||Level 35 Blademaster (+200 EXP)
Wishlist: EXP, Ends of Earth, Armor with Status Effects


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