Nighthand watched the battle unfold around him with a broken gaze, unable to see all that went on without a large amount of effort. There were enough of the dragons in the room now that it made seeing his allies hard to accomplish. The whines, hisses, moans, and roars of the monsters mingled with their battlecries, the beating of their wings against the air and each other, and the sound of thier clawed feet hitting the ground. Even the hissing steam of the molten lava was drowned out, which made avoiding the lava pools in the floor all the harder to do.
Watch out, there's a pool behind you.
Thanks.
Nighthand was glad to have Silverblade back and on the alert. He could concentrate more on the fighting and less on the terrain. If the voice in his head was watching out for the area hazards, he would be able to put more of his effort into attacking without fear of stepping where there was no land to step on.
For the moment, he seemed to be in the clear. The lava pool behind him formed a bit of a barrier, but the dragons still circled him and it. At least, they were less likely to attack over it, weren't they?
As he watched, more and more dragons joined the blurred and scaly circle around him. He could count the dragons, but they kept writhing around, and more were joining the spinning mass all the time. Nearest he could tell without shifting into speed just to count, there were eleven of them circling him.
Now and then, a monster would jump out of the circle and dash for him. He held his attacks though, and as he somewhat expected, it quickly halted and rejoined the pack. He spun around to find another doing the same feint, and to his right another. They continued their dash-and-return maneuvers, never quite getting right within his easy reach, making any attack he would make on them hard to pull off. Should he attack one straying into his reach, he would leave himself open, and the rest of the pack would converge on him. While he had no doubt he could handle each and every one of them even if they did, it would be more pain that it was worth to do so.
Chuckling a little to himself, Nighthand realized the way he would remove the threat. After all, physical attacks weren't his only option, and he knew from the few glances at other bits of the battle that he had, that water spells would do a significant amount of damage to the creatures. While their reactions were fairly quick, not all of them would be able to avoid one of his spells, especially if he decided to pump up the area.
He changed his mind when he felt for what scrolls he had. Cygnus... That one could do well here. His level, combined with the water weakness the dragons had, would make level one single-target spells very effective... They would probably kill the beasts as it was. So the level two would be overkill. That allowed him some freedom to use one of the less-used attributes of his ability. He could, and often did, charge up the damage on a spell. For area-effect skills, that often meant a greater range. For single-target skills, it simply meant more damage per assault.
The other part of his power was the ability to change targets and, if the spell was powerful enough, split it into multiple weaker versions of the spell. He had no particular affinity for water like he did for darkness, but he DID have the one level two water converge.
A plan taking form in his mind, he pulled the scroll out and activated it. The spell began to form in the air, and he reached out and caught it. This much, at least, was exactly like his charge-holds. Now came the difficult and less-practiced part. The scroll was level two, and thus so was the spell, and it was slowly gaining a little bit of power just by being held this long. Not enough to do more than maybe an extra HP or two of damage, but that didn't matter. What he had to do here was split the spell's energy down the middle. (12)
His mental hand drew the energy apart, forcing it into two wads of power. Each was a single spell, slightly more powerful than a level one. Of course... he had a number of scrolls of the level one variety of the spell. So really, why did he just do that? Kicking himself mentally, he shrugged and tried to hold on to both spells at once. That would be trickier, but if they grew sufficiently, he might be able to split each of them once more. There was no way right now he'd be able to hold more than three or four spells, but it was better than nothing.
He was surprised as both of the spells ballooned in his grasp. The growth was uneven, however... probably a differing amount of power in each. His split hadn't been clean, but it had happened. The first spell was stronger, back up to level two and more, though still short of a level three. (17) The second was the weaker of the two, but still up around a level two spell. (14) Excellent.
Again his mental hands tried to draw the two spells apart. First the more powerful one. (17) It nearly fragmented in his grasp, like the power had somehow become brittle. Frantic, trying to control more power at once than he had ever attempted before, he managed to catch some of it before it dissipated. Rather than two level 1 spells, he was left with three. Odd... the power had never behaved that way before. No matter. Now holding on to four spells, the max he could, he tried to split the other. (9)
Abruptly, the spell contracted, but it allowed itself to split. He now held five spells, more than he even thought was possible. Three of them were level one, and the other two were somewhat weaker. He spent a moment wondering if he could hold on to them again, but they all began to pulsate, and he knew it was getting dangerous. If he tried to hold them, the power could backfire on him, and if all five went off at once it would be devastating. Worst, there was the possibility they would merge themselves again and strike him with a single-target level 5 or above spell. THAT he wouldn't be able to handle.
So, he releasted the spells, each going off in a different point of the star from him. Five unfortunate dragons out of the eleven fell prey to spells simultaneously. The runes appeared and dissipated in an instant, forming coulds of ice and snow, which converged on the dragons. The rest of the swirling mob was shocked that so many spells could appear at once from one player, but they knew exactly what they would do in response. Only six of them left, but all of them at the same time reacted identically. Six Vak Runes, all for Vak Don, appeared over Nighthand's head.
Nighthand attempted to dive out of the way of the downfalling spells, but found his path blocked by the now-stationary mob of dragons. The only way left was into the lava pool, and that would do more damage than the spells themselves would.
Nighthand took the first hit while he was still deciding what to do. The second came once his plan had been formed. The third slammed home as he started to move forwards. The fourth grazed him as he shifted to speed and activated his skill. The fifth missed entirely as he dashed into the midst of the dragons. The sixth and final hit home as he shifted back to strength. For all intents and purposes, he had just disappeared and reappeared in the middle of the dragons, ignoring the falling volcanic rocks that struck him as he spun. It might not have been the best elemental skill to use against them, but no one would dispute that Ganz Maxima was more than enough to demolish each dragon it touched.
All six of the dragons dead, Nighthand found himself without a moment to rest. More dragons converged on him, pulling the same circle-feint routine the previous ones had. How could he get out of this, and get a breather?
Uh... you DO have wings, you know.[
...oh yeah.
Wings he did have, and wings he put to use. So what if the dragons could fly, so could he! The great black demonic wings spread out, a wingspan far larger than any of the dragons had themselves. He leapt into the air, his blade reaching out and tearing through one of the airborne dragons as he passed.
Flying to the top of the room, or at least as high as he could get without the heat obscuring his vision of the ground, he began to circle. Where his shadow passed, dragons turned to look up. Some fled from the shadow, some leapt to meet it. They didn't concern him. While he wasn't that familiar with combat in the air, he was well-versed in large falls, and knew how to take a minimum of damage from them. Even so... He was now a large, flying target of vak spells. Thankfully, none of the dragons had yet realized that fact.
How many of them even are there?
A lot. In fact, it looks like you've barely even diminshed their numbers. Look.
And Nighthand looked. He looked to the holes in the wall, where the dragons were still pouring out of. The flood that had come at first was greatly diminished, but there were still plenty of the monstrs coming from the holes. If only they could stop the flood at it's source...
Nighthand's thoughts were interrupted by a pair of dragons flying up to meet him in the air, and he was once more drawn into a self-centered battle rather than a map-surveying height of protection.
--------------------ooc
Starting Total: 337
Killed: 12
Subtotal: 325
Dragons Added this Round: 98
Total Remaining: 423
Hmm... maybe there's more to this than there seems to be....
Moderator: Nighthand
-
Lord Canti
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 300
- Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
- Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.
(Surrounded by chaos, the lone Twin Blade sat atop a Dragon Guard in irritation. Dragons as far as the eye could see. Dragons above and dragons below. Dragons out the friggin' wazoo. And the only good that that was doing him right now was that the one he sat on top of had no leverage to shake him off. That didn't mean he was safe, of course. Oh no... Safety was an elusive term. Even as he stabbed the eyes out of this one and killed it, a few more were stalking him from behind. He waited quietly for them...a totally un-Canti-like action. They stalked...and sprang! The Twin Blade was off his feet in a second, his body still being effected by the Speed Charm that he'd most recently used. Flipping up into the air, he landed on top of them as they were in a sort of tumble, limbs mixed in here or there because of how badly the lot of them had judged their opponent. It was sad, really, because they couldn't even get their bearings, not with Canti jumping all over them. He wasn't gonna be taken that easily. Maybe some other way, but this? Nah. Before any of the three dragons could get out from under him, he stabbed down at them with his Bloody Twin, using the Life Drain to replenish the chunk of HP he'd lost while struggling with the first one. His allies were in a spot of trouble, but hey...weren't they all? He'd love to help, but...he was way over at one edge of the room!)
Canti: 'Bout now, I'd like to settle down and take a smoke.
(His body was already smoking, but this didn't help at all. No, it was more or less the effect of being a smoldering Twin Blade that seemed to render some aid. A number of Vak spells suddenly went off as more dragons emerged from the holes. More of them... Go figure... Time to run! Canti zipped off in his high speed and led a gang of four right out of the holes. By now, he was beginning to understand how they grouped and regrouped, but that was made pretty academic by the fact that he would round on them only after a few seconds to cause them grievious bodly death, instituted by the swinging of blades. As a matter of fact, Canti did this now by simply jumping right back at the leader and knifing his jaws head on, forcing him to fall into a couple of the others. Seconds passed and Canti had slashed open the fallen, then worked on the ones who were with them not long after they turned. Monsters though they were, they were nothing more than servants to the real bastard. Again, that dragon slaying event he'd taken place in had greatly sharpened his wits versus reptiles, and that was another four...now making eight. As he got up, Canti felt an intense weight on his back and something biting the back of his neck. He shoved a blade in its throat and left it there, watching the dragon choke on it a bit before slicing its stomach open with the other dagger. Honestly, why did they have to bother? He was in the zone here. His knives would flash out and something dead and fleshy would be stuck on it. Like now. It had been lunging and Canti had gotten it right behind the jaws, opening a deep throat wound as it tried to bite him. This could get more interesting, though. The Twin Blade whistled loudly to get some creature's attention as he switched to Phantom Blades again. With the way these guys were moving, this was the best method...)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
(In the colliseum of hell, the bowels of the underworld itself, there seemed no end to the toothed-ones, whose hearts were pure flame. Several such creatures surrounded the crow quickly after emergence, some hailing from different parts of the chamber. They came as the will of the dark ones, the sinister rulers of the land who wished only the crow's demise. The crow cackled as its talons spun methodically into the underbellies of its foes. The beasts had their tactics, but the crow knew their timing. It was only a matter of knowing how to fight in order to win. They were cut down in twos. Cut-cut, cut-cut... Four to add to ten. Then an extra two. These were not hard battles. As the beasts came from on high in a group of five, he spake the verse which plunged the winds into a great torrent of debris, the whirlwind of wood and such, then took their off-guard moment to slash at their exposed selves until they were dead. The fox smiled as he made his way, kill by kill, his rapid strikes jaggedly cutting through another trio without too much concern. They were bodies, filled with blood and fire. They had no souls or essence of any sort. Several were soon lured to the standing spires, and he did not one thing but allow them to lunge in vain, striking their heads long enough to be murdered by the skill embedded in the crow's talons. There was a reason that the stringed one called him Ye Of Psychosis, but was it any more than just a waking dream to live by? That much was untold as of yet. Now the deaths were in the double-dozen area and five more of the beasts headed for him. The fox watched intently as his talons flew once again, but was distracted as the message from the sky came in. It said things, things from the stringed one about...)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Canti: SAY WHAT?!
(He fell back as two of the wounded dragons out of the three left alive tackled him down. What the hell?! Canti let loose another Staccato with the Phantom Blades and shredded dragon stomach where he lay, then turned to just kick the third in its lower jaw, an act that seemed to stun it for a moment before he rammed his knives into its body and he began to cast Repth to heal himself. Twenty-nine dead, but that wasn't what was on his mind now. Something that was said caught the Twin Blade off guard so completely that he'd lost his focus. He read the words again...)
Canti: "Who speaks to you?" Who... That can't be right... Unless...
(Replacing his daggers with Fuse Blades now, Canti began to laugh out loud, as if a great personal victory had been landed now. He couldn't believe it! There WAS something this guy didn't seem to know! He'd asked this question and then he'd shrugged it off. Then, the Marionette talked about "The Blades" and his "weakness", speaking of the desire for strength. If he wanted strong fighters out of this group, challenging him and the others like this, that could mean a number of things, but this still made Canti wonder now... What would they find on the other side of that door? He then looked around.)
Canti: Nevermind the door... What about that hole? Or any of them?
(Dragons were still coming out of the holes, lots of them. To be honest, Canti lost count very quickly when it came to the sheer numbers he was seeing. There had to be something to do...otherwise these guys might come out forever! Hmmm... The Twin Blade leapt up and stabbed into the belly of a dragon, then. The claws sunk in for the impalement, and then Canti twisted to make it worse before swinging elsewhere. From here, he kicked off of and stabbed into several flying or crawling dragons, which had suddenly begun to flood the area he was in. Using this mode of 'transportation', he managed to kill ten...because it took him a while to get over to where he wanted to go. The place was an edge-hole, one of the places in which these guardians emerged. Now, Canti began to think... Wouldn't it be nice if these monsters were sealed off from the action? What if those holes were blocked? That would certainly do a world of good...he hoped. Well, no time like the present. He switched out the gear that didn't have his Gan spells and started working on the area of a hole with Gan Zot and the like. If this place reacted like a real volcano, the heat would melt the stones used in the spells, and maybe the holes would be sealed. Well, here's hoping...)
OOC: While I'm trying something out, here's the weather report!
Yesterday's Dragon Forecast - 423
High Kill Ratio - 39
Current Dragon Status - 384
And here I am, the human El Nino factor...hopefully.
(Canti's Gan Zot, the first spell out of his list to spring to life, seemed to do the trick. The earthen pillars rose from the ground, exactly the height of the hole in the wall. Or rather... just slightly higher. They impacted the roof of the smaller cave-within-a-cave, and a heavy rumbling sound filled the air around the twinblade. He jumped back out of the way, none too soon, as the entire section of the wall seemed to settle. One dragon, sensing the danger but rushing to exit the tunnel rather than dive back into it, was caught in the landslide of debris. Judging by the sounds that died back into the distance, the hole was plugged at least a hundred feet back. It would take the dragons time to tunnel out... if they even could.)
Holes initial: 10
Holes sealed: 1
Holes left: 9
Rounds until hole is reopened: 5
Canti: 'Bout now, I'd like to settle down and take a smoke.
(His body was already smoking, but this didn't help at all. No, it was more or less the effect of being a smoldering Twin Blade that seemed to render some aid. A number of Vak spells suddenly went off as more dragons emerged from the holes. More of them... Go figure... Time to run! Canti zipped off in his high speed and led a gang of four right out of the holes. By now, he was beginning to understand how they grouped and regrouped, but that was made pretty academic by the fact that he would round on them only after a few seconds to cause them grievious bodly death, instituted by the swinging of blades. As a matter of fact, Canti did this now by simply jumping right back at the leader and knifing his jaws head on, forcing him to fall into a couple of the others. Seconds passed and Canti had slashed open the fallen, then worked on the ones who were with them not long after they turned. Monsters though they were, they were nothing more than servants to the real bastard. Again, that dragon slaying event he'd taken place in had greatly sharpened his wits versus reptiles, and that was another four...now making eight. As he got up, Canti felt an intense weight on his back and something biting the back of his neck. He shoved a blade in its throat and left it there, watching the dragon choke on it a bit before slicing its stomach open with the other dagger. Honestly, why did they have to bother? He was in the zone here. His knives would flash out and something dead and fleshy would be stuck on it. Like now. It had been lunging and Canti had gotten it right behind the jaws, opening a deep throat wound as it tried to bite him. This could get more interesting, though. The Twin Blade whistled loudly to get some creature's attention as he switched to Phantom Blades again. With the way these guys were moving, this was the best method...)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
(In the colliseum of hell, the bowels of the underworld itself, there seemed no end to the toothed-ones, whose hearts were pure flame. Several such creatures surrounded the crow quickly after emergence, some hailing from different parts of the chamber. They came as the will of the dark ones, the sinister rulers of the land who wished only the crow's demise. The crow cackled as its talons spun methodically into the underbellies of its foes. The beasts had their tactics, but the crow knew their timing. It was only a matter of knowing how to fight in order to win. They were cut down in twos. Cut-cut, cut-cut... Four to add to ten. Then an extra two. These were not hard battles. As the beasts came from on high in a group of five, he spake the verse which plunged the winds into a great torrent of debris, the whirlwind of wood and such, then took their off-guard moment to slash at their exposed selves until they were dead. The fox smiled as he made his way, kill by kill, his rapid strikes jaggedly cutting through another trio without too much concern. They were bodies, filled with blood and fire. They had no souls or essence of any sort. Several were soon lured to the standing spires, and he did not one thing but allow them to lunge in vain, striking their heads long enough to be murdered by the skill embedded in the crow's talons. There was a reason that the stringed one called him Ye Of Psychosis, but was it any more than just a waking dream to live by? That much was untold as of yet. Now the deaths were in the double-dozen area and five more of the beasts headed for him. The fox watched intently as his talons flew once again, but was distracted as the message from the sky came in. It said things, things from the stringed one about...)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Canti: SAY WHAT?!
(He fell back as two of the wounded dragons out of the three left alive tackled him down. What the hell?! Canti let loose another Staccato with the Phantom Blades and shredded dragon stomach where he lay, then turned to just kick the third in its lower jaw, an act that seemed to stun it for a moment before he rammed his knives into its body and he began to cast Repth to heal himself. Twenty-nine dead, but that wasn't what was on his mind now. Something that was said caught the Twin Blade off guard so completely that he'd lost his focus. He read the words again...)
Canti: "Who speaks to you?" Who... That can't be right... Unless...
(Replacing his daggers with Fuse Blades now, Canti began to laugh out loud, as if a great personal victory had been landed now. He couldn't believe it! There WAS something this guy didn't seem to know! He'd asked this question and then he'd shrugged it off. Then, the Marionette talked about "The Blades" and his "weakness", speaking of the desire for strength. If he wanted strong fighters out of this group, challenging him and the others like this, that could mean a number of things, but this still made Canti wonder now... What would they find on the other side of that door? He then looked around.)
Canti: Nevermind the door... What about that hole? Or any of them?
(Dragons were still coming out of the holes, lots of them. To be honest, Canti lost count very quickly when it came to the sheer numbers he was seeing. There had to be something to do...otherwise these guys might come out forever! Hmmm... The Twin Blade leapt up and stabbed into the belly of a dragon, then. The claws sunk in for the impalement, and then Canti twisted to make it worse before swinging elsewhere. From here, he kicked off of and stabbed into several flying or crawling dragons, which had suddenly begun to flood the area he was in. Using this mode of 'transportation', he managed to kill ten...because it took him a while to get over to where he wanted to go. The place was an edge-hole, one of the places in which these guardians emerged. Now, Canti began to think... Wouldn't it be nice if these monsters were sealed off from the action? What if those holes were blocked? That would certainly do a world of good...he hoped. Well, no time like the present. He switched out the gear that didn't have his Gan spells and started working on the area of a hole with Gan Zot and the like. If this place reacted like a real volcano, the heat would melt the stones used in the spells, and maybe the holes would be sealed. Well, here's hoping...)
OOC: While I'm trying something out, here's the weather report!
Yesterday's Dragon Forecast - 423
High Kill Ratio - 39
Current Dragon Status - 384
And here I am, the human El Nino factor...hopefully.
(Canti's Gan Zot, the first spell out of his list to spring to life, seemed to do the trick. The earthen pillars rose from the ground, exactly the height of the hole in the wall. Or rather... just slightly higher. They impacted the roof of the smaller cave-within-a-cave, and a heavy rumbling sound filled the air around the twinblade. He jumped back out of the way, none too soon, as the entire section of the wall seemed to settle. One dragon, sensing the danger but rushing to exit the tunnel rather than dive back into it, was caught in the landslide of debris. Judging by the sounds that died back into the distance, the hole was plugged at least a hundred feet back. It would take the dragons time to tunnel out... if they even could.)
Holes initial: 10
Holes sealed: 1
Holes left: 9
Rounds until hole is reopened: 5
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.
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.
A new type of dragon had emerged, much more sturdy than the last wave. It felt like there were less than before, but being greatly outnumbered didn’t change with the opponents. Yet, this group only emerged as Nighthand tried to make contact with the pillar. It seemed to be the center of this chamber, with enemies popping out once anyone tried to make contact with it. The mage pushed in the direction of the pillar, but was forced to stop very quickly with a set of three of their fresh opposition planted between him and over there. Chanting a quick level two tornado spell of the lightning persuasion, all three faded away, graying bodies no longer disrupting his route.
The last of the distance was covered shortly, and the Great Elite was leveled at the imposing structure like a club, despite it’s poor job at actually acting as one. Putting all of the limited physical strength behind the swing that was available, the wavemaster slammed the side of the staff into the pillar. Turning the Great Elite vertical, the energy point that resembled a short blade, the pole stabbed down into a different section of the column. The only end result that the spell caster could immediately see was having heated his wand.
However, his testing was halted by the approach of additional dragons, those not being entertained by anyone else. A pair swooped in from above, making a pass before circling around and halting in the sky directly above with a steady flapping to maintain their hovering state. Both sides unleashed spells simultaneously, Vak Dons and a rising column of water and ice. Both of the beasts dropped from the water spell, but both the wizard below and the pillar right to the side were also nipped somewhat.
“La Repth.”
No sooner did his injuries heal than his earlier request was acknowledged. Hijinx made one of her expected landings and got straight to business. Normally the sorcerer preferred using Lanceor, but Wryneck might create a more interesting opportunity if brought forth. The dragons seemed more likely to make light around themselves with all of their fire based techniques, giving the PC party the better odds for a short bit of night fighting.
“Yes please. How does Wryneck sound? Let‘s just make sure that we spread of the attack enough that we can get shots into most if not all of those exit holes if we‘re able to.”
Rayo pulled out the Apocalypse Rod and extended it from his body to give the girl some room to latch on to it if it was necessary. The required amount of SP last time had been quite heavy, but the caster wasn’t so far below his maximum levels that he need worry. The most important part was to clear out a bunch those pesky dragons, a pumped up level one summon shouldn’t have any trouble with performing a small massacre. Typing out a flash mail, he issued a warning to everyone presently in the room.
<To Party
Things might get dark for a moment once Hijinx and I let out the summon, be ready possible night fighting.
From Rayo>
“Ready when you are.”
ooc: Blue: Vak Don
Killed: 5
Remaining: 379
The last of the distance was covered shortly, and the Great Elite was leveled at the imposing structure like a club, despite it’s poor job at actually acting as one. Putting all of the limited physical strength behind the swing that was available, the wavemaster slammed the side of the staff into the pillar. Turning the Great Elite vertical, the energy point that resembled a short blade, the pole stabbed down into a different section of the column. The only end result that the spell caster could immediately see was having heated his wand.
However, his testing was halted by the approach of additional dragons, those not being entertained by anyone else. A pair swooped in from above, making a pass before circling around and halting in the sky directly above with a steady flapping to maintain their hovering state. Both sides unleashed spells simultaneously, Vak Dons and a rising column of water and ice. Both of the beasts dropped from the water spell, but both the wizard below and the pillar right to the side were also nipped somewhat.
“La Repth.”
No sooner did his injuries heal than his earlier request was acknowledged. Hijinx made one of her expected landings and got straight to business. Normally the sorcerer preferred using Lanceor, but Wryneck might create a more interesting opportunity if brought forth. The dragons seemed more likely to make light around themselves with all of their fire based techniques, giving the PC party the better odds for a short bit of night fighting.
“Yes please. How does Wryneck sound? Let‘s just make sure that we spread of the attack enough that we can get shots into most if not all of those exit holes if we‘re able to.”
Rayo pulled out the Apocalypse Rod and extended it from his body to give the girl some room to latch on to it if it was necessary. The required amount of SP last time had been quite heavy, but the caster wasn’t so far below his maximum levels that he need worry. The most important part was to clear out a bunch those pesky dragons, a pumped up level one summon shouldn’t have any trouble with performing a small massacre. Typing out a flash mail, he issued a warning to everyone presently in the room.
<To Party
Things might get dark for a moment once Hijinx and I let out the summon, be ready possible night fighting.
From Rayo>
“Ready when you are.”
ooc: Blue: Vak Don
Killed: 5
Remaining: 379
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
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
-
Dien
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 226
- Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 1:59 am
- Class: Blademaster
- Location: The "Who's Online List," Stalking People...
As Phoenix made evident, the first set of dragons was gone. Had it happened maybe a little slower, Dien might have followed it and known what had happened, but as it stood nearly 200 dragons’ bodies were falling from the sky in various forms of death and decay. Each one faded to red and then to nothing before hitting the ground below, having been blown out from the center by some massive flaming attack. Funny, he didn’t think fire would work that well against fire-breathing dragons. Then again, one way to put out a fire was with a bigger fire (namely an explosion), so it could work.
Relaxed that the worst was over, Dien watched as Nighthand walked up to the dragon and prepared to deliver quite the cutting blow to its body. For a moment he was still, and all eyes in the room were on him – including the sets not yet mention. The instant he began to swing his sword, he was tackled, his body flung to the ground under the weight of yet another dragon. Piece of cake, the blademaster thought, just get to see more of the man’s handi- At that moment, a handful of vak spells formed about him, beginning to take shape as the new maelstrom of beasts crawled out of the woodwork. Shit. The world went black.
“Do you want it?” came a whisper. He could feel his skin burning as the spells continued. That voice… Where did he know it from? It was familiar – he could almost remember.
“Who are you?” he asked, the World flashing into existence for a fraction of a second. There was no answer. Wincing at the pain of the spells, nothing else was made known to him. For a moment, he could hear the charring of his skin, fizzling, crackling and popping from the heat. Each burst sent a wave of pain up his nerves and to the core.
“You know me,” she whispered again from the darkness, “do you want me?” What the hell? He couldn’t think straight, his mouth instinctively flying open and crying out as a result of the spells. Who IS she?! he begged of himself, silently waiting as a different brand of pain washed over his legs. He’d collapsed, and this was just the dust of the floor on the open and burning wounds that used to be his legs. The pain of burning was sweet compared to this. Some part of it rang sweetly as his flesh was consumed against the ground, and for a moment he basked in its flavor.
“Is this you?” Dien queried, but in that instant reality was restored to him, and he clasped his hands at his head, his body quite literally burning of its own volition from the spells wrought upon him. Senses began to fade, but fortunately before he could watch his eyeballs explode he was left to unconsciousness.
__________
“I’ll take what he’s having,” Lila told the waiter, “only hold the lettuce.” The man nodded and turned, finishing jotting notes on his pad before rounding the corner out of their view. The girl across from him smiled briefly at the hacker before turning to engage her family in conversation. The restaurant they were in was quaint, as was the town. Outside, a light snowfall was illuminated by streetlamps, causing the whole thing to glisten magnificently. It would have been cold, were they not in the comfort of the restaurant. Even as they were, sweaters were needed for any level of comfort.
“So Jed,” Mrs. Palano said, “I hear they’ve already set up a date for your appeal.”
“Yeah,” he responded, taking a sip from his soda before continuing, “it’s gonna happen in July.”
“So soon?” the judge asked, her eyes widening slightly, “you’re lucky: these things tend to take years.”
“That’s what I hear,” Jed replied, “I guess the higher courts just have an interest in my case. Could make for a very interesting ruling if it hits the Supreme Court.”
“Would that mean a trip to D.C.?” Lila asked, “If so, mom, you’d have to get me a plane ticket to go with him.” It was strange: here this girl called Judge Meredith Palano her mother without any inhibitions or otherwise. It was all Jed could do to not think about that connection while they were across the table from one another. After what they’d done, if he pictured this woman as Lila’s mother he’d never be able to look her in the eye again.
“It’ll be another couple years before that happens anyway,” Jed replied, “and it might not even happen.” A sudden sharp pain in his shin woke him up to the fact that she was sitting right across the table. He winced slightly, looking up apologetically to the girl’s glare.
“So what happened between you two at the cabin during the storm last week?” The glare that had been pointed to the hacker was now enhanced and thrown in heaps on her younger brother.
“I-it was nothing,” Jed said quickly, trying to cover it up. He could feel his face heating up to a blush, and even without looking knew that Lila’s was the same. The waiter appeared again, a platter containing their food balanced on his shoulder. His timing could not have been better. Each plate was named as it was handed out, and when it was done the boy turned about, hastily stepping back into the kitchen. For a moment no one did anything, merely sitting in silence awaiting more conversation.
“Well,” the judge finally said, breaking off the tension that abounded, “I’m sure we’ll here more about it later, but for now I say we eat. Lila, will you pray over the food?” They joined hands, closing their eyes and bowing their heads as the girl obeyed her mother’s request. For Jed, though, the opportunity was taken to thank the Maker that he hadn’t been forced to put to words what had happened.
“…in Jesus’ name, amen.”
__________
No matter how often he went through it, the blademaster would never get used to the sickening sensation of having his body given to him once again. He knew he’d have to find some way around it at some point, or learn to accept his fate as being killed and resurrected over and again. The first option seemed preferable, and following along that line he then had two options: stop following the Freedom Fighters and resign himself to willing Twilight to let him into the code of the game, or get to a point where death was no longer a plague. That was it: he needed to get stronger. Somehow, he needed to get to a point where he could reap as much destruction as Zan or Nighthand or even Phoenix. In level, he was still so ridiculously lower than them that it was sickening.
Pulling himself up off the ground once again drove the point home: he was only serving to drag the Freedom Fighters down. Every time they entered a fight he wound up dieing or dead, and what good could he serve if he was constantly draining their support? No, he needed to get stronger. If what Raine had said was right, then he had latent abilities hidden away inside himself – only confirmed by the memory of Sheena’s words.
“I integrated with Twilight, therefore now have some kind of special power…?” he pondered aloud. Ok then, what the hell is it? Whatever it was, it hadn’t shown up once since their Lambda hideout. It didn’t matter. He had to make due with what he had, right? Immediately, as if to answer this thought, a ball of fire formed above him. Eyes widened, he dove to one side, narrowly avoiding the damage that would have been dealt by the fiery spell – and even then the ground had decided to work against him. Blood poured out of the rivet in his skin left by a particularly sharp crag. Pushing himself up, he winced and called repth to undo the damage. Crimson fluid was sucked back into his arm, and he closed his eyes as the spell completed its course.
Wait, he restrained himself, watch the others’ fights before going in on your own. These are different from before. For one, they could cast level one vak spells. They looked to be a bit faster on the ground, and slightly bulkier than their predecessors. As many of them were taking to the air, there were equal numbers on the ground. Their numbers didn’t compare to the last time, but somehow they were still managing to clog the fighters’ field of vision. Judging by the numbers that were barely visible, it appeared that the color blue made them squirm as well.
“Well then, let’s get to fighting, then, shall we?” For an instant, Glitter was exchanged for Gakaku, used for its sole unique skill of Ap Ruem. As his body began to pulsate in blue overtones, he could feel the room getting warmer. No, it wasn’t the room that was getting warmer, he was getting colder. Still, this method would, if he was right, enable him to do more damage against the dragons. The next sword on call was Zanzamas, used for its Ap Do briefly before being exchanged once again for Glitter. All at once, he was off, headed out from the extremely deteriorated line of defense to do battle.
One, then two, then three of the dragons fell in his speedy onslaught, each one caught off guard in the neck before it could react. However, luck like that couldn’t last forever. Just as soon, a sharp claw caught him in the chest and sent him reeling backward. The wound was pressed hard, and Dien looked to the one that had inflicted it. A scream was let out, adding to the cacophony, and the blademaster only glared, the sword in his hand beginning to glow a bright blue.
“You asked for it,” he said, running forward and bringing Glitter up into the air, “Rue Crack!” An arc of blue energy lasted after the blade, honing in on the victim and drawing an elemental critical from it. Before the skill had fully completed, though, the blademaster was thrown to the side, the feet of an airborne dragon clasping his hair and pulling sharply as it flew past. His voice echoed the pain as the hair was torn out, and he spun to the ground. Instinctively, he pulled a health drink from the bag at his side and popped the cork with one hand. Lips touched the vial, and then it was knocked out of his hands with another dragon’s tackle. Glitter pushed through the scaled, and Dien activated it’s spinning skill to chop the thing in half and throw himself in the air. Once there, though, he found himself in the grip of yet another dragon, this time having his arm clamped in its jaw. Instead of falling, as he would have likely done with one of the lighter dragons, this one managed to keep him aloft.
Crap, he thought, wincing as the flesh of his arm was rendered apart with every passing moment, my sword arm’s gone. As though to drive the point home, the dragon veered upward, practically yanking the arm out of its socket before letting go. For a moment, Dien was sent skyward, and the dragon veered off. He looked about, trying to figure out what was next, only to find a safety net of sorts made below him – only it was made of the fiery breaths of the dragons. Before he could hit it, though, several clusters of raw Vak energy collided with him, sticking like napalm and burning more and more into his skin before he fell through the fire to the earth below. One dragon hadn’t been paying that much attention to him, and managed to soften his hit to the earth enough to keep him alive, if only for a few moments longer. Its back broke, and he stood before it could fade through red to nothingness. The heat was making him stagger, and even with the aps he’d inflicted on himself he was powerless.
He called repth once, in spite of its futility. The blue bubbles covered his form, mending a good portion of the damage before a second dragon charged and knocked him to the ground. In immediate order, a pair of dragons were on top of him, clawing at him. He swore, pulling up the blade from his side and slicing through their necks before they could do so to him. Even so the room began to blink in shades of red, and he knew it was over. One airborne beast decided to try and play with him, swooping down at him and releasing fire from its mouth. Tongues of flame bathed the ground, and panic took over Dien. Frantically, he rolled, trying to escape the fiery death that would be his end. Not three feet had passed before his hand landed on a hole, and before he could look down to examine it a bellow of steam shot upward, burning off the appendage and leaving him in a new world of agony. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clasped at the stump left behind, and he turned, facing his oncoming doom. Eyes closed, and he tried his hardest to brace for what was coming.
There was no way to fight it.
__________
OOC:
Dragon-count:
Before: 379
Killed: 7
After: 372
Relaxed that the worst was over, Dien watched as Nighthand walked up to the dragon and prepared to deliver quite the cutting blow to its body. For a moment he was still, and all eyes in the room were on him – including the sets not yet mention. The instant he began to swing his sword, he was tackled, his body flung to the ground under the weight of yet another dragon. Piece of cake, the blademaster thought, just get to see more of the man’s handi- At that moment, a handful of vak spells formed about him, beginning to take shape as the new maelstrom of beasts crawled out of the woodwork. Shit. The world went black.
“Do you want it?” came a whisper. He could feel his skin burning as the spells continued. That voice… Where did he know it from? It was familiar – he could almost remember.
“Who are you?” he asked, the World flashing into existence for a fraction of a second. There was no answer. Wincing at the pain of the spells, nothing else was made known to him. For a moment, he could hear the charring of his skin, fizzling, crackling and popping from the heat. Each burst sent a wave of pain up his nerves and to the core.
“You know me,” she whispered again from the darkness, “do you want me?” What the hell? He couldn’t think straight, his mouth instinctively flying open and crying out as a result of the spells. Who IS she?! he begged of himself, silently waiting as a different brand of pain washed over his legs. He’d collapsed, and this was just the dust of the floor on the open and burning wounds that used to be his legs. The pain of burning was sweet compared to this. Some part of it rang sweetly as his flesh was consumed against the ground, and for a moment he basked in its flavor.
“Is this you?” Dien queried, but in that instant reality was restored to him, and he clasped his hands at his head, his body quite literally burning of its own volition from the spells wrought upon him. Senses began to fade, but fortunately before he could watch his eyeballs explode he was left to unconsciousness.
__________
“I’ll take what he’s having,” Lila told the waiter, “only hold the lettuce.” The man nodded and turned, finishing jotting notes on his pad before rounding the corner out of their view. The girl across from him smiled briefly at the hacker before turning to engage her family in conversation. The restaurant they were in was quaint, as was the town. Outside, a light snowfall was illuminated by streetlamps, causing the whole thing to glisten magnificently. It would have been cold, were they not in the comfort of the restaurant. Even as they were, sweaters were needed for any level of comfort.
“So Jed,” Mrs. Palano said, “I hear they’ve already set up a date for your appeal.”
“Yeah,” he responded, taking a sip from his soda before continuing, “it’s gonna happen in July.”
“So soon?” the judge asked, her eyes widening slightly, “you’re lucky: these things tend to take years.”
“That’s what I hear,” Jed replied, “I guess the higher courts just have an interest in my case. Could make for a very interesting ruling if it hits the Supreme Court.”
“Would that mean a trip to D.C.?” Lila asked, “If so, mom, you’d have to get me a plane ticket to go with him.” It was strange: here this girl called Judge Meredith Palano her mother without any inhibitions or otherwise. It was all Jed could do to not think about that connection while they were across the table from one another. After what they’d done, if he pictured this woman as Lila’s mother he’d never be able to look her in the eye again.
“It’ll be another couple years before that happens anyway,” Jed replied, “and it might not even happen.” A sudden sharp pain in his shin woke him up to the fact that she was sitting right across the table. He winced slightly, looking up apologetically to the girl’s glare.
“So what happened between you two at the cabin during the storm last week?” The glare that had been pointed to the hacker was now enhanced and thrown in heaps on her younger brother.
“I-it was nothing,” Jed said quickly, trying to cover it up. He could feel his face heating up to a blush, and even without looking knew that Lila’s was the same. The waiter appeared again, a platter containing their food balanced on his shoulder. His timing could not have been better. Each plate was named as it was handed out, and when it was done the boy turned about, hastily stepping back into the kitchen. For a moment no one did anything, merely sitting in silence awaiting more conversation.
“Well,” the judge finally said, breaking off the tension that abounded, “I’m sure we’ll here more about it later, but for now I say we eat. Lila, will you pray over the food?” They joined hands, closing their eyes and bowing their heads as the girl obeyed her mother’s request. For Jed, though, the opportunity was taken to thank the Maker that he hadn’t been forced to put to words what had happened.
“…in Jesus’ name, amen.”
__________
No matter how often he went through it, the blademaster would never get used to the sickening sensation of having his body given to him once again. He knew he’d have to find some way around it at some point, or learn to accept his fate as being killed and resurrected over and again. The first option seemed preferable, and following along that line he then had two options: stop following the Freedom Fighters and resign himself to willing Twilight to let him into the code of the game, or get to a point where death was no longer a plague. That was it: he needed to get stronger. Somehow, he needed to get to a point where he could reap as much destruction as Zan or Nighthand or even Phoenix. In level, he was still so ridiculously lower than them that it was sickening.
Pulling himself up off the ground once again drove the point home: he was only serving to drag the Freedom Fighters down. Every time they entered a fight he wound up dieing or dead, and what good could he serve if he was constantly draining their support? No, he needed to get stronger. If what Raine had said was right, then he had latent abilities hidden away inside himself – only confirmed by the memory of Sheena’s words.
“I integrated with Twilight, therefore now have some kind of special power…?” he pondered aloud. Ok then, what the hell is it? Whatever it was, it hadn’t shown up once since their Lambda hideout. It didn’t matter. He had to make due with what he had, right? Immediately, as if to answer this thought, a ball of fire formed above him. Eyes widened, he dove to one side, narrowly avoiding the damage that would have been dealt by the fiery spell – and even then the ground had decided to work against him. Blood poured out of the rivet in his skin left by a particularly sharp crag. Pushing himself up, he winced and called repth to undo the damage. Crimson fluid was sucked back into his arm, and he closed his eyes as the spell completed its course.
Wait, he restrained himself, watch the others’ fights before going in on your own. These are different from before. For one, they could cast level one vak spells. They looked to be a bit faster on the ground, and slightly bulkier than their predecessors. As many of them were taking to the air, there were equal numbers on the ground. Their numbers didn’t compare to the last time, but somehow they were still managing to clog the fighters’ field of vision. Judging by the numbers that were barely visible, it appeared that the color blue made them squirm as well.
“Well then, let’s get to fighting, then, shall we?” For an instant, Glitter was exchanged for Gakaku, used for its sole unique skill of Ap Ruem. As his body began to pulsate in blue overtones, he could feel the room getting warmer. No, it wasn’t the room that was getting warmer, he was getting colder. Still, this method would, if he was right, enable him to do more damage against the dragons. The next sword on call was Zanzamas, used for its Ap Do briefly before being exchanged once again for Glitter. All at once, he was off, headed out from the extremely deteriorated line of defense to do battle.
One, then two, then three of the dragons fell in his speedy onslaught, each one caught off guard in the neck before it could react. However, luck like that couldn’t last forever. Just as soon, a sharp claw caught him in the chest and sent him reeling backward. The wound was pressed hard, and Dien looked to the one that had inflicted it. A scream was let out, adding to the cacophony, and the blademaster only glared, the sword in his hand beginning to glow a bright blue.
“You asked for it,” he said, running forward and bringing Glitter up into the air, “Rue Crack!” An arc of blue energy lasted after the blade, honing in on the victim and drawing an elemental critical from it. Before the skill had fully completed, though, the blademaster was thrown to the side, the feet of an airborne dragon clasping his hair and pulling sharply as it flew past. His voice echoed the pain as the hair was torn out, and he spun to the ground. Instinctively, he pulled a health drink from the bag at his side and popped the cork with one hand. Lips touched the vial, and then it was knocked out of his hands with another dragon’s tackle. Glitter pushed through the scaled, and Dien activated it’s spinning skill to chop the thing in half and throw himself in the air. Once there, though, he found himself in the grip of yet another dragon, this time having his arm clamped in its jaw. Instead of falling, as he would have likely done with one of the lighter dragons, this one managed to keep him aloft.
Crap, he thought, wincing as the flesh of his arm was rendered apart with every passing moment, my sword arm’s gone. As though to drive the point home, the dragon veered upward, practically yanking the arm out of its socket before letting go. For a moment, Dien was sent skyward, and the dragon veered off. He looked about, trying to figure out what was next, only to find a safety net of sorts made below him – only it was made of the fiery breaths of the dragons. Before he could hit it, though, several clusters of raw Vak energy collided with him, sticking like napalm and burning more and more into his skin before he fell through the fire to the earth below. One dragon hadn’t been paying that much attention to him, and managed to soften his hit to the earth enough to keep him alive, if only for a few moments longer. Its back broke, and he stood before it could fade through red to nothingness. The heat was making him stagger, and even with the aps he’d inflicted on himself he was powerless.
He called repth once, in spite of its futility. The blue bubbles covered his form, mending a good portion of the damage before a second dragon charged and knocked him to the ground. In immediate order, a pair of dragons were on top of him, clawing at him. He swore, pulling up the blade from his side and slicing through their necks before they could do so to him. Even so the room began to blink in shades of red, and he knew it was over. One airborne beast decided to try and play with him, swooping down at him and releasing fire from its mouth. Tongues of flame bathed the ground, and panic took over Dien. Frantically, he rolled, trying to escape the fiery death that would be his end. Not three feet had passed before his hand landed on a hole, and before he could look down to examine it a bellow of steam shot upward, burning off the appendage and leaving him in a new world of agony. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clasped at the stump left behind, and he turned, facing his oncoming doom. Eyes closed, and he tried his hardest to brace for what was coming.
There was no way to fight it.
__________
OOC:
Dragon-count:
Before: 379
Killed: 7
After: 372
-
Hijinx
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 591
- Joined: Thu Apr 03, 2003 11:28 pm
- Location: New look, check it out!
A little surprised he wanted to take a risk, knowing there would be consequences, the fist fighter shrugged, looking around for a safe place to stand.
"Okay, but I don't think you'll like it..."
Hijinx stuck her index finger out and pushed the staff with it, directing the end towards the center of the room. Sp began to flow into the stick immediately, siphoning three times the energy for the blast as all of the shadows in the room converged at the tip. Offering a slight grimace to nothing in particular, she called out the name.
"WRYNECK!"
An aura of darkness shot out of the staff, stopping in the middle of the battlefield and exploding outwards and down. The ground was instantly covered in an impenetrable layer of black that became more disturbing as odd sounds became to leak through, like bones being set beneath everyone's feet. They didn't have to wonder for long, however, as an ocean of spears made up of fragmented bones began to stab out at odd angles, piercing ankles, legs, hearts, and other areas indscriminately. Dragons screeched as wings were torn, struggling to move with limbs that resembled swiss cheese. Several of the entrances were also struck, but whether it would be effective or know remained to be seen.
Her eyes closed, Hijinx crossed her fingers and hoped she wouldn't be reviving too many teammates. It was a nice trick and all, but who really wanted to run around picking up dead people? Especially if they were full of holes, then they would probably bleed on her. Fortunately for her and Rayo, they had an excuse if anyone asked for help; Backlash from the spell had temporarily invaded their eyes, effectively blinding both of them and making rayo trip over a spear as the surprise drove him backwards. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she laughed, not entirely sure if anyone got the wrong end of a pike anywhere particularly unpleasant, and again when it occured to her that Zan might enjoy being surrounded by bones. Smiling at nothing in particular, the fist fighter cocked her head and listened. If experience had taught anything about fighting blind, now would be a good time to use it. For now, all there was to do was be mindful of any loud stomping noises coming her way.
<edit>
Dragon-count:
Before: 372
Killed: 118
After: 254
Of these 254:
--35 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
--64 marginally wounded (middling HP)
--155 lightly wounded or unharmed
(please keep a count of these as well)
Holes initial: 9
Holes sealed: 2
Holes left: 7
Rounds until holes are reopened: 5
</edit>
"Okay, but I don't think you'll like it..."
Hijinx stuck her index finger out and pushed the staff with it, directing the end towards the center of the room. Sp began to flow into the stick immediately, siphoning three times the energy for the blast as all of the shadows in the room converged at the tip. Offering a slight grimace to nothing in particular, she called out the name.
"WRYNECK!"
An aura of darkness shot out of the staff, stopping in the middle of the battlefield and exploding outwards and down. The ground was instantly covered in an impenetrable layer of black that became more disturbing as odd sounds became to leak through, like bones being set beneath everyone's feet. They didn't have to wonder for long, however, as an ocean of spears made up of fragmented bones began to stab out at odd angles, piercing ankles, legs, hearts, and other areas indscriminately. Dragons screeched as wings were torn, struggling to move with limbs that resembled swiss cheese. Several of the entrances were also struck, but whether it would be effective or know remained to be seen.
Her eyes closed, Hijinx crossed her fingers and hoped she wouldn't be reviving too many teammates. It was a nice trick and all, but who really wanted to run around picking up dead people? Especially if they were full of holes, then they would probably bleed on her. Fortunately for her and Rayo, they had an excuse if anyone asked for help; Backlash from the spell had temporarily invaded their eyes, effectively blinding both of them and making rayo trip over a spear as the surprise drove him backwards. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she laughed, not entirely sure if anyone got the wrong end of a pike anywhere particularly unpleasant, and again when it occured to her that Zan might enjoy being surrounded by bones. Smiling at nothing in particular, the fist fighter cocked her head and listened. If experience had taught anything about fighting blind, now would be a good time to use it. For now, all there was to do was be mindful of any loud stomping noises coming her way.
<edit>
Dragon-count:
Before: 372
Killed: 118
After: 254
Of these 254:
--35 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
--64 marginally wounded (middling HP)
--155 lightly wounded or unharmed
(please keep a count of these as well)
Holes initial: 9
Holes sealed: 2
Holes left: 7
Rounds until holes are reopened: 5
</edit>
Hijinx the Lucky Former Rabbit
Level 35.000 Fist Fighter
Equip: Fist Guards, Wyrm Hide, guard cap, Snow panther, silver bracers
Item: 5 ressurect, 2 antidote, 10 healing potions, 6 Emperor's Soul, 3 Raging Earth, 5 Ice Floe, 4 Gale Breath, Knights Bane, 10 Speed Charms
Money: 1103gp
"The problem with life is there's no back-ground music."
Level 35.000 Fist Fighter
Equip: Fist Guards, Wyrm Hide, guard cap, Snow panther, silver bracers
Item: 5 ressurect, 2 antidote, 10 healing potions, 6 Emperor's Soul, 3 Raging Earth, 5 Ice Floe, 4 Gale Breath, Knights Bane, 10 Speed Charms
Money: 1103gp
"The problem with life is there's no back-ground music."
Senna was getting desperate, a state she hated but fell into a lot more often than she would have people believe. She’d worked her way to one of the walls, fighting off the creatures as best she could, but a single swipe of her spear was not enough to kill them, and so the injured ones disappeared into the crowd and fresh ones came up to take their places. She had no such luxury – there was only one of her.
Now, with her back to a solid surface and a weapon with decent reach, she was faring a little better, but not much, and she’d run through a pair more health drinks. She might be able to keep most of the claws and teeth and wings off her but their fire-breath and their spell-attacks were still perfectly within range.
One such blasted across her vision from the left, the flame to bright she was left trying to blink green from her vision as she struck out toward it. Her spear encountered something – though in the press who could tell if it was the right one or not? – and there was a hiss of pain but again no kill. These things were too much at her level. They were…
There was a minor tremor then, as some spell erupted on the far side of the room. Given the style of the space, she had a somewhat okay view of the proceedings, as a Zot spell broke from the ground (that part she couldn’t see) and speared skyward, trying to mirror the pillar in the center. A few of the dragons who were unlucky enough to be near it were caught in the spell, their bodies snapped and broken by the power of the spell. It would be a lie to say she didn’t smile a little at seeing that, taking pleasure in the destruction of those enemies. Still, she was fighting her own fight, and shortly had the paralysis of a fire-based spell to contend with, as the world washed out in a roar and red-gold embers.
When it released her, she leaned back against the wall, preparing to down another health drink – items were all she had at the moment – when something about the room snapped into place. The rumbling she’d felt with the dragon spell wasn’t from the spell – it was from the previous spell – Rocks and earth settling into place where the Zot spell had apparently collapsed one of the tunnels. She didn’t know who’d done it, but she thanked them mentally. That seemed a good deal more useful than swatting off the bugs. Once more, the pawn found its route, she thought with a smile.
So then, how to best act on this? The first step was simple enough. A Mage Soul appeared in her hand, then disappeared just as quickly, used to augment her rock-bottom SP. And then she was changing armor and, as the creatures around her sensed a break in the pattern and moved in to attack, she was running at them and using a spell again. “Rue Rom.”
As usual, it was said quietly and with little inflection, but the impact of it could be felt immediately. Being used to her retreating, the creatures mercifully gave way for a few steps as she ran out among them. She didn’t want to be next to a wall when casting this sort of spell. She didn’t know if the immovable nature of the wall might affect her spell, keep it from ramping up to full throttle. No use taking a chance.
Thus, by the time the dragons started attacking, the spell was beginning. She took her share of shots, now that she had her back available as a target, but soon the water spell was whirling. She expected the cool spell to wash out the reds and browns of the room, but instead it contorted them, refracting them through a hundred moving prisms of frozen water.
It didn’t hurt that the bodies of a couple dragons unlucky enough to be in the air and in the spells grasp when it started were flying around as well. The ones on the ground couldn’t be picked up, not by a level one spell, but the ones in the air had no traction, no way to stop the new movement from acting on them. Senna seized the few moments of the spell to try to catch her breath, alone in the eye of the storm.
The reprieve was short-lived, however. As the spell started dying out, she was turning, honing in on the nearest of the openings in the wall, while again making an armor change.
“Rue Zot.”
And everything went black.
At first she thought she’d done something wrong, pulled out a cord or something and disconnected her headset from the CPU as she cast. But then her character was knocked sideways, nearly sprawling to the ground. She could tell this only by the rumble. Her character fetched up against something else – and the something moved. But why was it so dark?
While the next thing that happened did nothing to provide answers to what had happened, it was most unpleasant. Something came out of the darkness underfoot – no, all over would be more accurate – and apparently went through everything in the room, including Senna and, she could only assume, everyone else on their side as well.
She thanked God that she was standing near the edge of the room. As it was, the spears that shot up and then withdrew again, like an ocean wave, she was left clinging again and the next spell loosed was a La Repth instead of another attack. On the bright side, the spears had finished off three of the ones she’d previously injured as well.
That was taken in in a moment, then she was at it again with the spear. No rest for the weary, as they say.
OOC
Dragons
Before: 254
Killed: 14
After: 240
Of these 240:
--34 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
--61 marginally wounded (middling HP)
--145 lightly wounded or unharmed
I hope
Now, with her back to a solid surface and a weapon with decent reach, she was faring a little better, but not much, and she’d run through a pair more health drinks. She might be able to keep most of the claws and teeth and wings off her but their fire-breath and their spell-attacks were still perfectly within range.
One such blasted across her vision from the left, the flame to bright she was left trying to blink green from her vision as she struck out toward it. Her spear encountered something – though in the press who could tell if it was the right one or not? – and there was a hiss of pain but again no kill. These things were too much at her level. They were…
There was a minor tremor then, as some spell erupted on the far side of the room. Given the style of the space, she had a somewhat okay view of the proceedings, as a Zot spell broke from the ground (that part she couldn’t see) and speared skyward, trying to mirror the pillar in the center. A few of the dragons who were unlucky enough to be near it were caught in the spell, their bodies snapped and broken by the power of the spell. It would be a lie to say she didn’t smile a little at seeing that, taking pleasure in the destruction of those enemies. Still, she was fighting her own fight, and shortly had the paralysis of a fire-based spell to contend with, as the world washed out in a roar and red-gold embers.
When it released her, she leaned back against the wall, preparing to down another health drink – items were all she had at the moment – when something about the room snapped into place. The rumbling she’d felt with the dragon spell wasn’t from the spell – it was from the previous spell – Rocks and earth settling into place where the Zot spell had apparently collapsed one of the tunnels. She didn’t know who’d done it, but she thanked them mentally. That seemed a good deal more useful than swatting off the bugs. Once more, the pawn found its route, she thought with a smile.
So then, how to best act on this? The first step was simple enough. A Mage Soul appeared in her hand, then disappeared just as quickly, used to augment her rock-bottom SP. And then she was changing armor and, as the creatures around her sensed a break in the pattern and moved in to attack, she was running at them and using a spell again. “Rue Rom.”
As usual, it was said quietly and with little inflection, but the impact of it could be felt immediately. Being used to her retreating, the creatures mercifully gave way for a few steps as she ran out among them. She didn’t want to be next to a wall when casting this sort of spell. She didn’t know if the immovable nature of the wall might affect her spell, keep it from ramping up to full throttle. No use taking a chance.
Thus, by the time the dragons started attacking, the spell was beginning. She took her share of shots, now that she had her back available as a target, but soon the water spell was whirling. She expected the cool spell to wash out the reds and browns of the room, but instead it contorted them, refracting them through a hundred moving prisms of frozen water.
It didn’t hurt that the bodies of a couple dragons unlucky enough to be in the air and in the spells grasp when it started were flying around as well. The ones on the ground couldn’t be picked up, not by a level one spell, but the ones in the air had no traction, no way to stop the new movement from acting on them. Senna seized the few moments of the spell to try to catch her breath, alone in the eye of the storm.
The reprieve was short-lived, however. As the spell started dying out, she was turning, honing in on the nearest of the openings in the wall, while again making an armor change.
“Rue Zot.”
And everything went black.
At first she thought she’d done something wrong, pulled out a cord or something and disconnected her headset from the CPU as she cast. But then her character was knocked sideways, nearly sprawling to the ground. She could tell this only by the rumble. Her character fetched up against something else – and the something moved. But why was it so dark?
While the next thing that happened did nothing to provide answers to what had happened, it was most unpleasant. Something came out of the darkness underfoot – no, all over would be more accurate – and apparently went through everything in the room, including Senna and, she could only assume, everyone else on their side as well.
She thanked God that she was standing near the edge of the room. As it was, the spears that shot up and then withdrew again, like an ocean wave, she was left clinging again and the next spell loosed was a La Repth instead of another attack. On the bright side, the spears had finished off three of the ones she’d previously injured as well.
That was taken in in a moment, then she was at it again with the spear. No rest for the weary, as they say.
OOC
Dragons
Before: 254
Killed: 14
After: 240
Of these 240:
--34 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
--61 marginally wounded (middling HP)
--145 lightly wounded or unharmed
I hope
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
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)
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
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)
-
Nighthand
- Master of Games
- Posts: 1265
- Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
- Class: Bladesmage
- Location: ...Tracking...please wait...
Nighthand found himself in the middle of an aerial dogfight, the exact kind of thing he had wanted to avoid. In fact, aerial combat was one of the reason he hadn't liked wings; especially with such a huge wingspan. He was essentially a very large, very obvious target. Not only were dragons from below taking flight to fight him, several of the ones on the ground were realizing he was high above them, and were letting off spells to try to take him down. He was dodging Vak Dons like he was flying through a meteor shower; which, basically, he was. Vak Roms didn't do much, only changed his flight path and dealt a little damage. That was fine. He could deal with a little damage. It was the impact of the Don spells that could damage his wings, and a fall from this height would leave him utterly open to the attacks of the packs below.
Oddly enough, all of the dragons that flew up to meet him were at full health. The wounded ones seemed to want to stick the the ground, where they had more of a chance to live mixed in with the rest of their pack. It made it harder on the heavyblade, as he had to exert more effort to kill them while in the air, but at least it kept the stronger ones from mobbing people below. Somewhat, anyways.
Dodging another falling rock, Nighthand tore his sword through the wing of another of the beasts. It was getting a little tiresome... Half of the dragons he wounded merely fell to the ground, and not all of them died. At least they couldn't heal each other, that would make this battle last forever. Already, it was taking far too long.
Furling his wings, he let gravity take over. The monsters had been getting too close to surrounding him. He swung his blade on the way down, cleaving one of the more unfortunate dragons in half as he fell. He landed heavily on another one, throwing it off it's aerodynamics and forcing it to fall with him. It twisted and tried to snap at him, and it's skull met his swinging blade. He leaped off of it and spread his wings again, flying directly upwards. All of the dragons that had tried to surround him were diving at him, and the last thing they expected was for him to rise to meet them.
Calling on the skill embedded in his leg armor, the so-called Ninja Socks, Nighthand ambushed the would-be assault of dragons. ”Ani Zot!” He wondered what the spell would do, after all, with no land for it to rise out of.
His answer was, in fact, that it rose out of nothing. A dark hole appeared in the air just below the dragons as they hurtled past it, searching for their heavyblade prey. Dark spider legs reached out, and the blackness formed itself into a sort of spiderweb of energy. Several of the dragons were caught in the web but unharmed, or barely harmed; merely held in place for the spider to get to them. It wouldn't, of course; it had it's fixed range. Still, they were caught, and that meant it was Nighthand's turn to do the damage to them. While the spider caught a few directly in it's jaws, breaking them apart into data and sucking the data into the hole, Nighthand cleared out the web of excess monsters. Too many of the dragons were too high up when the spell went off, though, and had managed to veer away. They had circled and were already attacking him as the spell faded.
His blade took out two more as they converged on him. Skill drain went off on one of them, and his SP was suddenly refilled. Odd, he had forgotten that his blade held that effect... and that lower level spells didn't take all that much SP to cast. Good to know.
Meanwhile, on the ground, Nall was holding his own. Or rather, he wasn't really doing much in the way of helping, but he wasn't completely avoiding battle. He was just standing in place, sword drawn, while the dragons worked up the courage and the numbers to attack him. They seemed puzzled though, by the way they died invariably every time they attacked. The blademaster was barely even moving. The party would recognize that he was simply using his powers, to step over and kill the threats before they could attack him, but the dragons didn't know that. They simply knew that they needed larger numbers if they wanted to have a chance.
A swath of eight of the beasts were felled by a quick step, while Nall continued to survey the area. The dragons continued to pour out of the few caves that remained in the walls... So the blademaster decided to lessen that number a bit. He pulled one of the few scrolls he carried from his vest and activated a Gan Zot on the nearest of the open holes. He couldn't target the further away ones, but the deep basso rumblings told him he had sealed this one.
More dragons had taken that chance to assault him, and he took out another nine. Before the mob had a chance to regroup, he ran his blade through another seven. Sometimes, it was good to have a weapon that was made out of ice.
Still, there were too many of the monsters around for comfort, and more were arriving every second. He had to take out a significant number of them soon, before they built their numbers back up. Forming a plan in his mind, albeit a very simply one, he activated his abilities and moved across the cave in a line. Dragons seemed to die for no reason in the middle of the room for a second, only a line of corpses from one wall to the other telling that Nall had been the cause. Another clearing of bodies appeared near another entrance, and Nall nuked that one with another scroll. Really, he needed a better stash. Next to Nighthand, his scrolls seemed useless... except for the few level 3s he kept in reserve, anyways.
Standing there as calm as ever, Nall continued to watch the battle. Now there weren't so many dragons left. Hopefully it would be done soon.
----------------ooc:
Dragons
Before: 240
Killed: 167
After: 73
Holes before: 7
Holes sealed: 2+1 (from senna's post)
Holes left: 4
Rounds until holes reopen: 4
Those added from the holes: 40
Total dragons remaining: 113
Of these : 113
--18 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
--30 marginally wounded (middling HP)
--65 lightly wounded or unharmed
Oddly enough, all of the dragons that flew up to meet him were at full health. The wounded ones seemed to want to stick the the ground, where they had more of a chance to live mixed in with the rest of their pack. It made it harder on the heavyblade, as he had to exert more effort to kill them while in the air, but at least it kept the stronger ones from mobbing people below. Somewhat, anyways.
Dodging another falling rock, Nighthand tore his sword through the wing of another of the beasts. It was getting a little tiresome... Half of the dragons he wounded merely fell to the ground, and not all of them died. At least they couldn't heal each other, that would make this battle last forever. Already, it was taking far too long.
Furling his wings, he let gravity take over. The monsters had been getting too close to surrounding him. He swung his blade on the way down, cleaving one of the more unfortunate dragons in half as he fell. He landed heavily on another one, throwing it off it's aerodynamics and forcing it to fall with him. It twisted and tried to snap at him, and it's skull met his swinging blade. He leaped off of it and spread his wings again, flying directly upwards. All of the dragons that had tried to surround him were diving at him, and the last thing they expected was for him to rise to meet them.
Calling on the skill embedded in his leg armor, the so-called Ninja Socks, Nighthand ambushed the would-be assault of dragons. ”Ani Zot!” He wondered what the spell would do, after all, with no land for it to rise out of.
His answer was, in fact, that it rose out of nothing. A dark hole appeared in the air just below the dragons as they hurtled past it, searching for their heavyblade prey. Dark spider legs reached out, and the blackness formed itself into a sort of spiderweb of energy. Several of the dragons were caught in the web but unharmed, or barely harmed; merely held in place for the spider to get to them. It wouldn't, of course; it had it's fixed range. Still, they were caught, and that meant it was Nighthand's turn to do the damage to them. While the spider caught a few directly in it's jaws, breaking them apart into data and sucking the data into the hole, Nighthand cleared out the web of excess monsters. Too many of the dragons were too high up when the spell went off, though, and had managed to veer away. They had circled and were already attacking him as the spell faded.
His blade took out two more as they converged on him. Skill drain went off on one of them, and his SP was suddenly refilled. Odd, he had forgotten that his blade held that effect... and that lower level spells didn't take all that much SP to cast. Good to know.
Meanwhile, on the ground, Nall was holding his own. Or rather, he wasn't really doing much in the way of helping, but he wasn't completely avoiding battle. He was just standing in place, sword drawn, while the dragons worked up the courage and the numbers to attack him. They seemed puzzled though, by the way they died invariably every time they attacked. The blademaster was barely even moving. The party would recognize that he was simply using his powers, to step over and kill the threats before they could attack him, but the dragons didn't know that. They simply knew that they needed larger numbers if they wanted to have a chance.
A swath of eight of the beasts were felled by a quick step, while Nall continued to survey the area. The dragons continued to pour out of the few caves that remained in the walls... So the blademaster decided to lessen that number a bit. He pulled one of the few scrolls he carried from his vest and activated a Gan Zot on the nearest of the open holes. He couldn't target the further away ones, but the deep basso rumblings told him he had sealed this one.
More dragons had taken that chance to assault him, and he took out another nine. Before the mob had a chance to regroup, he ran his blade through another seven. Sometimes, it was good to have a weapon that was made out of ice.
Still, there were too many of the monsters around for comfort, and more were arriving every second. He had to take out a significant number of them soon, before they built their numbers back up. Forming a plan in his mind, albeit a very simply one, he activated his abilities and moved across the cave in a line. Dragons seemed to die for no reason in the middle of the room for a second, only a line of corpses from one wall to the other telling that Nall had been the cause. Another clearing of bodies appeared near another entrance, and Nall nuked that one with another scroll. Really, he needed a better stash. Next to Nighthand, his scrolls seemed useless... except for the few level 3s he kept in reserve, anyways.
Standing there as calm as ever, Nall continued to watch the battle. Now there weren't so many dragons left. Hopefully it would be done soon.
----------------ooc:
Dragons
Before: 240
Killed: 167
After: 73
Holes before: 7
Holes sealed: 2+1 (from senna's post)
Holes left: 4
Rounds until holes reopen: 4
Those added from the holes: 40
Total dragons remaining: 113
Of these : 113
--18 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
--30 marginally wounded (middling HP)
--65 lightly wounded or unharmed
Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)
-
Dien
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 226
- Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 1:59 am
- Class: Blademaster
- Location: The "Who's Online List," Stalking People...
She wasn’t sure where she’d gotten the notion from, but probing around the flashmail system had proven to be worth the venture. Every piece of mail, it seemed, was still finding a way to save itself and open directly from Dien’s real-world brain. It was a pathway that they could use, for sure. Granted, it would take some tweaking that she wasn’t entirely sure how to accomplish, but the important thing was that it could be done. There was just one thing left: telling first Dien and then Zan the good news. It would give them something to fight for, something they could keep pushing towards: the promise of a brighter outcome.
Materializing in the World proved slightly more difficult, since she hadn’t done it in such a considerable amount of time. Still, she managed to accomplish it, fading into existence at least in her own perception. Dien was unconscious on the ground, but there was something amok. Not only was he motionless, but so was the rest of the dungeon. Even trying to think about the temporal implications was enough to make her head swirl. No, it wasn’t enough to phase her. Somehow, seeing time stop wasn’t as perplexing as she would have otherwise thought. What was perplexing was the sudden appearance of a figure. Draped over his form, a black cloak covered his entire being, revealing only pitch black boots and the shadowed lower half of his face. A look of discontentment formed his lips, though not a frown persay.
“You there,” he said, lifting his hand and pointing to her, “who are you, and what are you to this boy?” It made sense that he could see her, at least in context of the other weird circumstances surrounding this event. She didn’t know him, but decided it couldn’t hurt to answer.
“My name is Danielle,” she began, proceeding not too surely because, well, she didn’t know exactly how to define her own existence, “I guess you could say I’m a separated alterego existing in Dien’s mind. Technically, I’m just an AI installed on his brain, but…” Her voice trailed off. That was enough to say for now. Any more and he might have something to use against them if that was his intent. Either way, going farther would probably have hurt her, especially with the desire for something she knew she couldn’t have so strongly welling up within her. To the best of her ability, the AI had tried to drown these all-too-human feelings inside herself, but found it failing, and her expression must have shown.
“From the look of things,” the man said, letting his hand drop, “he’s more important to you than you’re willing to admit.” A shade of red crossed her face, and his dank look turned into a smirk, “But if you’re installed on his brain, why come all this way to tell him something, unless it’s something big?” The blush evacuated immediately, her timid smile being replaced with a sudden alertness. A sudden pang in her stomach reminded her of that one time – their infection and overtake by Twilight. Suddenly, the eyes of the man started to glow: the same eyes of the dragon that had destroyed her. She tried to turn, tried to fade out and stop projecting herself, but found herself unable to do so. In fact, she couldn’t move at all.
“Who are you?!” she pleaded, fear beginning to overtake her alertness.
“Unfortunately for you,” the man said, a rather lethal-looking bow forming in his hand, “I know your secret.” The look he shot her told her everything she wanted to know. You know who I am, the man seemed to say, slowly dragging the bow upwards and forming an arrow in his hand, don’t deny it. She winced, knowing that something bad was coming: something she couldn’t avoid. Dien, I’m sorry, she thought, quickly forming a flashmail to the first member address she could think of.
What was this feeling? Somehow, despite his having just been revived, he felt like someone had taken a rather-large hammer to his head, and then deposited the remains in his digestive tract. Sitting up yielded swimming amounts of pain and dizziness, sending a wave of nausea to extract whatever had been put inside him. His eyes rolled back, and he fell again to his back, his head hitting the earth with more force than he would have liked. The pain seemed amplified, and he scrunched up his face in disgust. Dear God, what the hell had happened?
An antidote was pulled out and used, trying to ward off whatever effect had been used to induce the disgusting feeling. It helped a little, taking the edge off the screeches that the dragons were letting out and making him a little less sensitive to light and motion. The nausea was also largely gone, but his head was still pounding, and the dizziness had only been reduced ever-so-slightly. He stood as best as he knew how, wobbling slightly and having to stare at the ground to keep himself up. Eyes closed after he’d established a standing position, and he simply stood for a moment, his hands on his head to try and drive the pain out.
“Damn,” he slurred, wondering now when his speech had decayed so, “this sucks.” It felt like all the symptoms he’d heard his friends associate with hangovers; nausea, dizziness, and a pounding headache that wouldn’t go away. The one thing missing was a lack of recognizance of what had actually happened before falling asleep. He distinctly remembered being beat to high-heaven by a handful of these den guardians, and a jolt of adrenaline shot through his system. Despite the pain in his stomach, he found himself grateful that it had happened. Nausea and dizziness had been all-but driven out entirely, and the headache reduced to a point of functionality. Still, it wouldn’t go away. He knew Zan had been having trouble with the two viruses waging war inside of him, but hell, what was causing this?
Not that it mattered. A shriek from behind him had Glitter out and through its neck in just a manner of moments. Steam rose from the surface of the blade as its icy core collected any moisture in the air to its surface only to be sublimed by the heat of the room they were in. The over all effect was intriguing: a sword whose steel blade actually glittered with the opposing forces acting on it. He supposed that it would be the most powerful in a place with plenty of moisture and not a lot of heat, but this was no such room.
The blademaster turned, his attention drawn by yet another shriek. This one, however was just the collision of a dragon from above falling upon one who appeared pre-eminently injured. It was something else he’d noticed: a good number of the dragons that remained were somewhat damaged. Some were still able to fight, but others were just too decrepit to even think about doing combat with, more resembling members of a geriatric home than fierce dragons.
Yet another cry came from above and behind him, and he turned, seeing one of the less-damaged dragons swooping down and winding up to throw more breaths off flame down on him. Eyes widened, and he started sprinting. A line of the devils died randomly right in front of him, and Dien suddenly panicked. The dragons were bound to start chasing him harder now that he looked like he’d just killed a number of their comrades – even despite his inability to hold a candle to them. A veritable horde joined their flying comrade in pursuit, some taking the ground because of their weaknesses or preferences, but all of them following behind him like he was one big running steak. Shuddering at the thought, his arm extended outward, picking off another one of the weak ones before it could join in pursuit. That was when he saw Nall.
The green-and-white-themed blademaster was standing calmly in the midst of the storm. Around him, at random intervals, dragons were falling left and right, with only a twitch visible from him. They weren't dying simply on a twitch, were they? No, that wouldn't work. In any case, it was a clearing that Dien was running for, with a full legion of fiery beasties trailing behind him.
“Nall!” he called out, in a scene that could only be described as mildly amusing - if not annoying, “a little help?”
“Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, eh? Rue Crack!” In an instant, all of the dragons that had been pursuing him were eliminated – those not killed driven away by fear. This only reminded the blademaster of how weak he was by comparison, and Nall seemed to pick up on it, “A bit much for you to handle?”
“Yeah,” Dien said, out of breath as he slowed to a stop in front of the man, “could you tell?” Sweat was beading on his forehead from the recent exercise, and he was bent at the waist, his hands on his knees to keep himself upright. Heavy breaths were almost lost in the chaos that echoed through the room, and after a moment he stood upright again, his composure mostly regained.
“Nall, can I ask you something?”
“You just did, didn't you?”
“True,” the weaker blademaster answered smiling and still recovering from the sprint, “well, a couple things, then, if you don't mind. Canti was more curious about this than myself, but since we basically left you to handle Suraisu, can I ask just what ended up happening to him? I mean, you obviously won in the end, but is our oh-so-loving guide...gone?”
“I don't know. He failed, and his masters don't take kindly to failure. But, you never know with this World.”
“So he's not dead, then,” Dien simplified, deriving the answer he'd sought, or at least you didn't kill him. That means…
“So, uh,” he went on, “what do you know about this Marionette fellow? Canti's got some...interesting theories regarding who it might be.” Indeed, Canti thought that the puppet could have been some incarnation of Suraisu, which did carry weight in light of the new information. Still, it'd be good to find out this man's take on it.
“Dunno. Whatever it is, it's crafty. I can't see it when it's only communication with us is flashmail, and the flashmails are ordinary. I know just as much as you all do, at least until we meet.” Now there was an interesting thought. If they were meeting, they'd be sure to find out. Dien shrugged, glancing about and watching as one of the dragons more injured by Hijinx's explosive spell flew through one of the steam vents and had its few remaining hit points disappear.
“Yeah,” he said, “I just hope I won't be as utterly useless against it if we have to fight as I am right now…” His voice trailed off. Part of him didn't want to ask about his infection, but there was a part of him that really didn't like being so pathetically weak in comparison with everyone else. The struggle contorted in his face, and rolling his eyes at himself, he glanced back at the speed-demon.
“About that, I was wondering how long it usually takes for Twilight to manifest in some kind of power or ability.” He winced slightly after finishing, knowing it hadn't come out just as he'd wanted. His power had manifested itself before, but since then he'd had absolutely no access to it whatsoever. Maybe it was some kind of one-time deal? Nah, that didn't really make sense...
“It happens when it happens. It's not like some kind of skill tree or anything. It's an infection, and acts like one.”
“Yeah,” Dien replied, knowing full well how computer viruses worked, “it's just, right now I feel so useless, like I'm dragging everyone down and holding back the group. You're always having to resurrect me, and while I thank you for that, I just feel...weak.” He sighed, sitting himself on the ground next to what remained of one of the eggs, picking away at its weakened shell. It wasn't like him to mope, but something about this just...overpowered him. It all multiplied, and he sighed again, this time more heavily as he watched Zan tear through another horde of dragons.
“It happens. Deal with it? Before you know it, you won't suck so much anymore, and then you'll be impatient to get this whole thing over with.” A smile crossed Dien's face at that remark. No, Nall wasn't trying to tell him he didn't suck, he was just telling him to get back on the bike and keep peddling. He rose, stretching slowly and cracking his neck with sharp leanings to the left and right.
“Thanks Nall,” he said, “I just needed to get some things off my mind so I could outwit these snake-bastards.” His SP had returned over the course of the conversation, and he turned, facing out into the room where there was a particular lack of Freedom Fighter or friend. It took him a moment to switch armor to the skills he needed, but once Ap Do and Rig Gaem had been cast, he waved over his shoulder and sprinted off back into battle. Ap Ruem was also applied en route, only this time it was met with more confidence; the numbers of the dragons had been significantly reduced.
Almost immediately into his charge, one of the dragons protested, flames beginning to bellow into its jowels before Dien’s foot pinned it to the ground, jaw clamped shut and powerless to open. The result was a jettison of flames that erupted out of the thing’s already-wounded neck. For a few minutes it screamed in agony before dying, but the blademaster couldn’t stick around to watch. Even lagging for a moment in any decision could mean the end of his Aps. Another dragon caught wind of his brother’s torture, and swooped downward in an attempt to right the wrong. It glared at Dien, releasing its scream before dive-bombing at him with remarkable speeds. In one swift turn, the blademaster jumped into the air, pulling the icy sword in his hand upward before activating its more-lethal skill.
“Rue Crack!” The blade descended through the beast with almost no resistance, sending whatever flaming cry it was about to release back into itself and letting it die rather quickly. The body faded out through red before returning to the ground, and Dien landed in its wake, only to find a small group of some five or six dragons closing in on him. It was unlikely they’d all attack at once, seeing as how they seemed to enjoy more advanced tactics and target-manipulation. No, he wasn’t going to play this game. With a smirk, he stood perfectly still, his sword hanging down at his side as he stared at the ground, waiting for the opportune moment. All at once, the blade’s other skill was released, sending him around in a circle to attack the trio that had decided to attack him. Two died immediately, and the other was flung backward with a sharp red line in the scales of its chest. However, before the skill could be complete, the swordsman was wrapped in a sudden cover of fire, globs of the stuff deciding to try and stick to his skin. Repth was muttered and the sword let go on instinct, its momentum hurdling it headlong into the chest of an observing beast and rendering it dead.
For an instant, Dien waited, taking account of his enemies. One was staggering to one side, still reeling from the sting of the air against the cut in its body, and three others had fled to attack later – but from where? All at once, flying very low to the ground, the three came in side by side. They would’ve been easy targets for a don spell, but the clever freaks had probably guessed he didn’t have it readily accessible. Dang, they were smart. As if on cue, the dragons opened their mouths and shot flames forward, the path for their approach having been cleared. Pinching his eyes shut, the blademaster gripped his sword and ran, passing through flames quickly before delivering a swift kick to the jaw of the ‘flight lead.’ Almost immediately its companions whipped their tails inward, catching him in the chest and sending him back quite a ways. The world started to blink red, as breathing was suddenly a new and exciting challenge for him. Time was taken unnecessarily, and a health drink was used to try and cure the wounds. It worked to an extent, but only until a dragon from behind landed its razor-sharp claws in his shoulder. He cried in pain, collapsing under the weight as his bones were starting to chip away. The dragon responsible leapt into the air under the power of its damaged wings and made to bury its snout in the blood and gore of his chest, apparently unfed. A streak of red over its chest indicated which dragon this had been, and Dien smirked, holding up his blade in a manner that the only thing its jaws would get would be a sharp slice. Blood spattered, and then disappeared through red as its owner was killed. The tides had changed in this war, and the freedom fighters had taken the high ground.
__________
Dragons
Before: 113
Killed: 37
After: 76
Holes before: 4
Holes sealed: 0
Holes left: 4
Rounds until holes reopen: 4
Total Dragons Remaining: 76
Of these 76:
14 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
24 marginally wounded (middling HP)
38 lightly wounded or unharmed
Materializing in the World proved slightly more difficult, since she hadn’t done it in such a considerable amount of time. Still, she managed to accomplish it, fading into existence at least in her own perception. Dien was unconscious on the ground, but there was something amok. Not only was he motionless, but so was the rest of the dungeon. Even trying to think about the temporal implications was enough to make her head swirl. No, it wasn’t enough to phase her. Somehow, seeing time stop wasn’t as perplexing as she would have otherwise thought. What was perplexing was the sudden appearance of a figure. Draped over his form, a black cloak covered his entire being, revealing only pitch black boots and the shadowed lower half of his face. A look of discontentment formed his lips, though not a frown persay.
“You there,” he said, lifting his hand and pointing to her, “who are you, and what are you to this boy?” It made sense that he could see her, at least in context of the other weird circumstances surrounding this event. She didn’t know him, but decided it couldn’t hurt to answer.
“My name is Danielle,” she began, proceeding not too surely because, well, she didn’t know exactly how to define her own existence, “I guess you could say I’m a separated alterego existing in Dien’s mind. Technically, I’m just an AI installed on his brain, but…” Her voice trailed off. That was enough to say for now. Any more and he might have something to use against them if that was his intent. Either way, going farther would probably have hurt her, especially with the desire for something she knew she couldn’t have so strongly welling up within her. To the best of her ability, the AI had tried to drown these all-too-human feelings inside herself, but found it failing, and her expression must have shown.
“From the look of things,” the man said, letting his hand drop, “he’s more important to you than you’re willing to admit.” A shade of red crossed her face, and his dank look turned into a smirk, “But if you’re installed on his brain, why come all this way to tell him something, unless it’s something big?” The blush evacuated immediately, her timid smile being replaced with a sudden alertness. A sudden pang in her stomach reminded her of that one time – their infection and overtake by Twilight. Suddenly, the eyes of the man started to glow: the same eyes of the dragon that had destroyed her. She tried to turn, tried to fade out and stop projecting herself, but found herself unable to do so. In fact, she couldn’t move at all.
“Who are you?!” she pleaded, fear beginning to overtake her alertness.
“Unfortunately for you,” the man said, a rather lethal-looking bow forming in his hand, “I know your secret.” The look he shot her told her everything she wanted to know. You know who I am, the man seemed to say, slowly dragging the bow upwards and forming an arrow in his hand, don’t deny it. She winced, knowing that something bad was coming: something she couldn’t avoid. Dien, I’m sorry, she thought, quickly forming a flashmail to the first member address she could think of.
__________From: Danielle
To: Zan
Re: Breakout
Message:
I found a way out, but Twilight is stopping me. I can’t fight it, and it’s taking me away. Tell Dien I’m sorry, and that I don’t know when I’ll be back.
-Danielle
What was this feeling? Somehow, despite his having just been revived, he felt like someone had taken a rather-large hammer to his head, and then deposited the remains in his digestive tract. Sitting up yielded swimming amounts of pain and dizziness, sending a wave of nausea to extract whatever had been put inside him. His eyes rolled back, and he fell again to his back, his head hitting the earth with more force than he would have liked. The pain seemed amplified, and he scrunched up his face in disgust. Dear God, what the hell had happened?
An antidote was pulled out and used, trying to ward off whatever effect had been used to induce the disgusting feeling. It helped a little, taking the edge off the screeches that the dragons were letting out and making him a little less sensitive to light and motion. The nausea was also largely gone, but his head was still pounding, and the dizziness had only been reduced ever-so-slightly. He stood as best as he knew how, wobbling slightly and having to stare at the ground to keep himself up. Eyes closed after he’d established a standing position, and he simply stood for a moment, his hands on his head to try and drive the pain out.
“Damn,” he slurred, wondering now when his speech had decayed so, “this sucks.” It felt like all the symptoms he’d heard his friends associate with hangovers; nausea, dizziness, and a pounding headache that wouldn’t go away. The one thing missing was a lack of recognizance of what had actually happened before falling asleep. He distinctly remembered being beat to high-heaven by a handful of these den guardians, and a jolt of adrenaline shot through his system. Despite the pain in his stomach, he found himself grateful that it had happened. Nausea and dizziness had been all-but driven out entirely, and the headache reduced to a point of functionality. Still, it wouldn’t go away. He knew Zan had been having trouble with the two viruses waging war inside of him, but hell, what was causing this?
Not that it mattered. A shriek from behind him had Glitter out and through its neck in just a manner of moments. Steam rose from the surface of the blade as its icy core collected any moisture in the air to its surface only to be sublimed by the heat of the room they were in. The over all effect was intriguing: a sword whose steel blade actually glittered with the opposing forces acting on it. He supposed that it would be the most powerful in a place with plenty of moisture and not a lot of heat, but this was no such room.
The blademaster turned, his attention drawn by yet another shriek. This one, however was just the collision of a dragon from above falling upon one who appeared pre-eminently injured. It was something else he’d noticed: a good number of the dragons that remained were somewhat damaged. Some were still able to fight, but others were just too decrepit to even think about doing combat with, more resembling members of a geriatric home than fierce dragons.
Yet another cry came from above and behind him, and he turned, seeing one of the less-damaged dragons swooping down and winding up to throw more breaths off flame down on him. Eyes widened, and he started sprinting. A line of the devils died randomly right in front of him, and Dien suddenly panicked. The dragons were bound to start chasing him harder now that he looked like he’d just killed a number of their comrades – even despite his inability to hold a candle to them. A veritable horde joined their flying comrade in pursuit, some taking the ground because of their weaknesses or preferences, but all of them following behind him like he was one big running steak. Shuddering at the thought, his arm extended outward, picking off another one of the weak ones before it could join in pursuit. That was when he saw Nall.
The green-and-white-themed blademaster was standing calmly in the midst of the storm. Around him, at random intervals, dragons were falling left and right, with only a twitch visible from him. They weren't dying simply on a twitch, were they? No, that wouldn't work. In any case, it was a clearing that Dien was running for, with a full legion of fiery beasties trailing behind him.
“Nall!” he called out, in a scene that could only be described as mildly amusing - if not annoying, “a little help?”
“Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, eh? Rue Crack!” In an instant, all of the dragons that had been pursuing him were eliminated – those not killed driven away by fear. This only reminded the blademaster of how weak he was by comparison, and Nall seemed to pick up on it, “A bit much for you to handle?”
“Yeah,” Dien said, out of breath as he slowed to a stop in front of the man, “could you tell?” Sweat was beading on his forehead from the recent exercise, and he was bent at the waist, his hands on his knees to keep himself upright. Heavy breaths were almost lost in the chaos that echoed through the room, and after a moment he stood upright again, his composure mostly regained.
“Nall, can I ask you something?”
“You just did, didn't you?”
“True,” the weaker blademaster answered smiling and still recovering from the sprint, “well, a couple things, then, if you don't mind. Canti was more curious about this than myself, but since we basically left you to handle Suraisu, can I ask just what ended up happening to him? I mean, you obviously won in the end, but is our oh-so-loving guide...gone?”
“I don't know. He failed, and his masters don't take kindly to failure. But, you never know with this World.”
“So he's not dead, then,” Dien simplified, deriving the answer he'd sought, or at least you didn't kill him. That means…
“So, uh,” he went on, “what do you know about this Marionette fellow? Canti's got some...interesting theories regarding who it might be.” Indeed, Canti thought that the puppet could have been some incarnation of Suraisu, which did carry weight in light of the new information. Still, it'd be good to find out this man's take on it.
“Dunno. Whatever it is, it's crafty. I can't see it when it's only communication with us is flashmail, and the flashmails are ordinary. I know just as much as you all do, at least until we meet.” Now there was an interesting thought. If they were meeting, they'd be sure to find out. Dien shrugged, glancing about and watching as one of the dragons more injured by Hijinx's explosive spell flew through one of the steam vents and had its few remaining hit points disappear.
“Yeah,” he said, “I just hope I won't be as utterly useless against it if we have to fight as I am right now…” His voice trailed off. Part of him didn't want to ask about his infection, but there was a part of him that really didn't like being so pathetically weak in comparison with everyone else. The struggle contorted in his face, and rolling his eyes at himself, he glanced back at the speed-demon.
“About that, I was wondering how long it usually takes for Twilight to manifest in some kind of power or ability.” He winced slightly after finishing, knowing it hadn't come out just as he'd wanted. His power had manifested itself before, but since then he'd had absolutely no access to it whatsoever. Maybe it was some kind of one-time deal? Nah, that didn't really make sense...
“It happens when it happens. It's not like some kind of skill tree or anything. It's an infection, and acts like one.”
“Yeah,” Dien replied, knowing full well how computer viruses worked, “it's just, right now I feel so useless, like I'm dragging everyone down and holding back the group. You're always having to resurrect me, and while I thank you for that, I just feel...weak.” He sighed, sitting himself on the ground next to what remained of one of the eggs, picking away at its weakened shell. It wasn't like him to mope, but something about this just...overpowered him. It all multiplied, and he sighed again, this time more heavily as he watched Zan tear through another horde of dragons.
“It happens. Deal with it? Before you know it, you won't suck so much anymore, and then you'll be impatient to get this whole thing over with.” A smile crossed Dien's face at that remark. No, Nall wasn't trying to tell him he didn't suck, he was just telling him to get back on the bike and keep peddling. He rose, stretching slowly and cracking his neck with sharp leanings to the left and right.
“Thanks Nall,” he said, “I just needed to get some things off my mind so I could outwit these snake-bastards.” His SP had returned over the course of the conversation, and he turned, facing out into the room where there was a particular lack of Freedom Fighter or friend. It took him a moment to switch armor to the skills he needed, but once Ap Do and Rig Gaem had been cast, he waved over his shoulder and sprinted off back into battle. Ap Ruem was also applied en route, only this time it was met with more confidence; the numbers of the dragons had been significantly reduced.
Almost immediately into his charge, one of the dragons protested, flames beginning to bellow into its jowels before Dien’s foot pinned it to the ground, jaw clamped shut and powerless to open. The result was a jettison of flames that erupted out of the thing’s already-wounded neck. For a few minutes it screamed in agony before dying, but the blademaster couldn’t stick around to watch. Even lagging for a moment in any decision could mean the end of his Aps. Another dragon caught wind of his brother’s torture, and swooped downward in an attempt to right the wrong. It glared at Dien, releasing its scream before dive-bombing at him with remarkable speeds. In one swift turn, the blademaster jumped into the air, pulling the icy sword in his hand upward before activating its more-lethal skill.
“Rue Crack!” The blade descended through the beast with almost no resistance, sending whatever flaming cry it was about to release back into itself and letting it die rather quickly. The body faded out through red before returning to the ground, and Dien landed in its wake, only to find a small group of some five or six dragons closing in on him. It was unlikely they’d all attack at once, seeing as how they seemed to enjoy more advanced tactics and target-manipulation. No, he wasn’t going to play this game. With a smirk, he stood perfectly still, his sword hanging down at his side as he stared at the ground, waiting for the opportune moment. All at once, the blade’s other skill was released, sending him around in a circle to attack the trio that had decided to attack him. Two died immediately, and the other was flung backward with a sharp red line in the scales of its chest. However, before the skill could be complete, the swordsman was wrapped in a sudden cover of fire, globs of the stuff deciding to try and stick to his skin. Repth was muttered and the sword let go on instinct, its momentum hurdling it headlong into the chest of an observing beast and rendering it dead.
For an instant, Dien waited, taking account of his enemies. One was staggering to one side, still reeling from the sting of the air against the cut in its body, and three others had fled to attack later – but from where? All at once, flying very low to the ground, the three came in side by side. They would’ve been easy targets for a don spell, but the clever freaks had probably guessed he didn’t have it readily accessible. Dang, they were smart. As if on cue, the dragons opened their mouths and shot flames forward, the path for their approach having been cleared. Pinching his eyes shut, the blademaster gripped his sword and ran, passing through flames quickly before delivering a swift kick to the jaw of the ‘flight lead.’ Almost immediately its companions whipped their tails inward, catching him in the chest and sending him back quite a ways. The world started to blink red, as breathing was suddenly a new and exciting challenge for him. Time was taken unnecessarily, and a health drink was used to try and cure the wounds. It worked to an extent, but only until a dragon from behind landed its razor-sharp claws in his shoulder. He cried in pain, collapsing under the weight as his bones were starting to chip away. The dragon responsible leapt into the air under the power of its damaged wings and made to bury its snout in the blood and gore of his chest, apparently unfed. A streak of red over its chest indicated which dragon this had been, and Dien smirked, holding up his blade in a manner that the only thing its jaws would get would be a sharp slice. Blood spattered, and then disappeared through red as its owner was killed. The tides had changed in this war, and the freedom fighters had taken the high ground.
__________
Dragons
Before: 113
Killed: 37
After: 76
Holes before: 4
Holes sealed: 0
Holes left: 4
Rounds until holes reopen: 4
Total Dragons Remaining: 76
Of these 76:
14 critically wounded (1-50 HP)
24 marginally wounded (middling HP)
38 lightly wounded or unharmed
Fatigue had become a familiarity for the Heavy Blade, something he no longer allowed his mind to wallow over. No, now he simply accepted its burrow in his bones and fought on just the same. Some might call it focus, but for Zan it was simply ignorance, an act to shut down that which hindered him in hopes to fight in frightened and fleeting upon his return. The more time wore on, the more he began to see the minds of the people around him think outside of the box and consider the situation a little more than superficially. Unlike the lycanthrope had assumed, the Elites weren't simply throwing numbers at them to hinder their actions. Rather, they had made the supply of dragons of all shapes and sizes possibly infinite if those like Canti and Dien hadn't started to use the one muscle that matters. Zan was too distracted with thoughts displaced in the Real World and the warfare going on at a cellular and digital level within his very skin. It wasn't hindering his fighting abilities, but any thought beyond 'slash, kill, stab, kill' was shot to hell and replaced with more violent commands.
By this time the lycanthrope's weapon, his beloved Life Sword, was caked in dried blood and dripping with the new. In the beginning, ironically, the blade seemed to feed off of the death and the gore offered to its metal lips, but now it seemed sated. Bloated. Gluttony did not befit his sword and it wouldn't be long before it had its fill and became nothing more than a dead weight in his hands. With his trenchcoat discarded in his inventory, Zan's dark green shirt and simple black pants had been left to lap up the splashes of crimson that made their way away from the Life Sword. The Heavy Blade's face was smeared with the lifesblood and glossed in dirt from the constant dives and tumbles he was forced to initiate to avoid some of the more apt and vicious flocks. All in all his image was contorted from the introverted, ever-vacant man into some lie of a warrior, some farce of menace and brutality. The true warriors were those that had conjured up the plan to seal the dragon-hatching-holes. Senna, Canti, and all the rest involved in the current disposal of the incubators were the ones that not only wore the same visage as he, but deserved it.
It was then that Zan laughed, a sudden noise that paused the soon-after diseased form of a dragon-ling that had attempted a back attack of some sort. Such thoughts were meant for Hideout-based pity parties and all of the things Zan so masochistically indulged in. Truth be told and humble attitude stripped away, he was a fighter, but he wasn't using all the lessons that being in the Freedom Fighters had taught him. The lycanthrope was allowing selfish worries to make him monotonous and robotic in his style and output. A mild adjustment in his otherwise repetitive tactics and a duo of some of the moderately injured beasts, each holding one wound or another, fell by the swing of the Life Sword. Half a dozen of their brethren, also seeming to be in the same physical condition, gathered on their corpses in anger, turning towards Zan with sudden gouts of flame and napalm. Leaping up and over the blasts, body still plagued by the heat, he snuffed out their sparks with a call of the famed MeRue Rom and landed back on his feet without too much difficulty. Somehow, someway, Zan was finding his combat-oriented balance once more.
Hacking down one of the whole, uninjured dragons with a focused fall of steel that rent it in two, Zan carefully let loose his senses and gathered the intelligence he had been seeking. Ignoring the more critically wounded, he instead sought out the mild smell of blood, a sign of those that he could dispatch with ease that could prove tiresome for some of the lower leveled people in his group. It was those monsters that he darted for, that he rolled for, that he sought out like the hunter he had become and made them no more. They all seem perplexed by the man who smelled of wolf and man, who smelled of both predator and prey as he approached in his mask of blood, ash, and dirt and swung a blood-bloated blade to cease their own fatigue and their own pain. Five fell in the first phase of his hunt, their attempt at a circular assault failing with the inhuman agility and subtle strategy he had mustered. The next to taste death were another five, these hailing rains of fire that both missed and singed Zan's flesh before aero-acrobatics and skill with the six-foot weapon brought the struggle to nothing. By the time the final six of the mid-way foes were cleaved of their wings and crushed in with the weight of his boot and the strength of his physical will, Zan had fallen to his knees with only the weight of his Life Sword to hold him up and the green shirt he had once worn scorched and torn into barely-holding tatters on his torso. Had he the time or the mental space to cease the heaving rise and fall of his chest, he would have unequipped and re-equipped the piece of clothing to mend it. For now, however, he simply fought to gather his breath and preyed for the protection by his comrades.
By the time he had fumbled enough of himself together, he had the proper time (which, really, was no more than a handful of frantic seconds) to formulate how he would help in the plugging of the dragon incubators. This was paused by the Flashmail from Danielle, something he quickly forwarded to Dien, but otherwise came together as something possible. The only obstacle was that, to do what he had pondered, it would require him to transform into his Garou form. Zan knew that the Plures Vultis Mortis had traveled further than simply his Corvid, his Raven, and that shifting into anything could be hindered or halted completed by the rampant and secondary virus. Sadly enough, there was no time to rethink his options. It wouldn't be long before the holes began to spew forth their spawn and he needed to destroy as many as he could. A deep breath taken, and savored, Zan yawned the Wolf through his veins and waited for the transformation to occur. And occur it did. Unlike the usual pleasure-pain such a thing gave him, it was only agony, the Beast trapped under his flesh with no way to manifest. Through the numerous holes of his ribboned shirt he could see the Beast roll and recede, his skin bulging and flattening, rolling and ceasing in a pain akin to that which Dien had inflicted upon him during his moment of insanity.
The only thing his call to the Garou had put forth were claws upon his nails and, thinking only with hurt and not logic, Zan began to carve his flesh with desperate rakes. Crying out in self-disgust, horror, and unbearable pain, Zan began to claw away his flesh in pieces and strips, a confetti of gore falling to the ground each second as the Beast found its release and began to appear to patches. Bones creaked and snapped, stretched and grew as he himself grew. The drag of his nails would reveal lines of fur at a time, convulsions and his continued yells bringing about the strengthening of his sinew and the bulging of his frame until a blood-soaked Lycan, nine and a half feet in stature, stood amongst the unrecognizable remains of his human skin. The Heavy Blade had been unable to stop the process, had been temporarily lost in the madness as he combated both Beast and PVM. Now more than exhausted he had started out, but with the strength to continue his venture, his muscled claws brought down the stragglers until but a cluster remained guarding the first of his targets. Limping and meek, they simply watched him with open defiance as he slammed his fingers through the rocky floor and began to wrench upward. At first nothing occurred, his biceps straining fruitlessly, but it wasn't long before cracks began to ripple out from where his claw-tipped fingers had buried into the earth. A booming roar exploded from his throat as he heaved up a chunk of the ground two-thirds the size of himself and only a touch smaller in girth. It was this that he used to flatten the remaining weak and collapse in one of the holes. There was no doubt in his mind that even that would reopen in time and it was with this in mind that he repeated the feat and sealed another, this time with no opposition. What dragons remains were few and, luckily, occupied.
Zan could only hope that, with muscles aching and pain still throbbing over his form, that it was enough.
-----------------------------------
OOC:
Dragons
Before: 76
Killed: 40
After: 36
Holes Before: 4
Holes Sealed: 2
Holes Left: 2
Rounds Until Holes Reopen: 4
Total Dragons Remaining: 36
Of these 36…
0 Critically Wounded (1-50 HP)
0 Marginally Wounded (middling HP)
36 Lightly Wounded or Unharmed
By this time the lycanthrope's weapon, his beloved Life Sword, was caked in dried blood and dripping with the new. In the beginning, ironically, the blade seemed to feed off of the death and the gore offered to its metal lips, but now it seemed sated. Bloated. Gluttony did not befit his sword and it wouldn't be long before it had its fill and became nothing more than a dead weight in his hands. With his trenchcoat discarded in his inventory, Zan's dark green shirt and simple black pants had been left to lap up the splashes of crimson that made their way away from the Life Sword. The Heavy Blade's face was smeared with the lifesblood and glossed in dirt from the constant dives and tumbles he was forced to initiate to avoid some of the more apt and vicious flocks. All in all his image was contorted from the introverted, ever-vacant man into some lie of a warrior, some farce of menace and brutality. The true warriors were those that had conjured up the plan to seal the dragon-hatching-holes. Senna, Canti, and all the rest involved in the current disposal of the incubators were the ones that not only wore the same visage as he, but deserved it.
It was then that Zan laughed, a sudden noise that paused the soon-after diseased form of a dragon-ling that had attempted a back attack of some sort. Such thoughts were meant for Hideout-based pity parties and all of the things Zan so masochistically indulged in. Truth be told and humble attitude stripped away, he was a fighter, but he wasn't using all the lessons that being in the Freedom Fighters had taught him. The lycanthrope was allowing selfish worries to make him monotonous and robotic in his style and output. A mild adjustment in his otherwise repetitive tactics and a duo of some of the moderately injured beasts, each holding one wound or another, fell by the swing of the Life Sword. Half a dozen of their brethren, also seeming to be in the same physical condition, gathered on their corpses in anger, turning towards Zan with sudden gouts of flame and napalm. Leaping up and over the blasts, body still plagued by the heat, he snuffed out their sparks with a call of the famed MeRue Rom and landed back on his feet without too much difficulty. Somehow, someway, Zan was finding his combat-oriented balance once more.
Hacking down one of the whole, uninjured dragons with a focused fall of steel that rent it in two, Zan carefully let loose his senses and gathered the intelligence he had been seeking. Ignoring the more critically wounded, he instead sought out the mild smell of blood, a sign of those that he could dispatch with ease that could prove tiresome for some of the lower leveled people in his group. It was those monsters that he darted for, that he rolled for, that he sought out like the hunter he had become and made them no more. They all seem perplexed by the man who smelled of wolf and man, who smelled of both predator and prey as he approached in his mask of blood, ash, and dirt and swung a blood-bloated blade to cease their own fatigue and their own pain. Five fell in the first phase of his hunt, their attempt at a circular assault failing with the inhuman agility and subtle strategy he had mustered. The next to taste death were another five, these hailing rains of fire that both missed and singed Zan's flesh before aero-acrobatics and skill with the six-foot weapon brought the struggle to nothing. By the time the final six of the mid-way foes were cleaved of their wings and crushed in with the weight of his boot and the strength of his physical will, Zan had fallen to his knees with only the weight of his Life Sword to hold him up and the green shirt he had once worn scorched and torn into barely-holding tatters on his torso. Had he the time or the mental space to cease the heaving rise and fall of his chest, he would have unequipped and re-equipped the piece of clothing to mend it. For now, however, he simply fought to gather his breath and preyed for the protection by his comrades.
By the time he had fumbled enough of himself together, he had the proper time (which, really, was no more than a handful of frantic seconds) to formulate how he would help in the plugging of the dragon incubators. This was paused by the Flashmail from Danielle, something he quickly forwarded to Dien, but otherwise came together as something possible. The only obstacle was that, to do what he had pondered, it would require him to transform into his Garou form. Zan knew that the Plures Vultis Mortis had traveled further than simply his Corvid, his Raven, and that shifting into anything could be hindered or halted completed by the rampant and secondary virus. Sadly enough, there was no time to rethink his options. It wouldn't be long before the holes began to spew forth their spawn and he needed to destroy as many as he could. A deep breath taken, and savored, Zan yawned the Wolf through his veins and waited for the transformation to occur. And occur it did. Unlike the usual pleasure-pain such a thing gave him, it was only agony, the Beast trapped under his flesh with no way to manifest. Through the numerous holes of his ribboned shirt he could see the Beast roll and recede, his skin bulging and flattening, rolling and ceasing in a pain akin to that which Dien had inflicted upon him during his moment of insanity.
The only thing his call to the Garou had put forth were claws upon his nails and, thinking only with hurt and not logic, Zan began to carve his flesh with desperate rakes. Crying out in self-disgust, horror, and unbearable pain, Zan began to claw away his flesh in pieces and strips, a confetti of gore falling to the ground each second as the Beast found its release and began to appear to patches. Bones creaked and snapped, stretched and grew as he himself grew. The drag of his nails would reveal lines of fur at a time, convulsions and his continued yells bringing about the strengthening of his sinew and the bulging of his frame until a blood-soaked Lycan, nine and a half feet in stature, stood amongst the unrecognizable remains of his human skin. The Heavy Blade had been unable to stop the process, had been temporarily lost in the madness as he combated both Beast and PVM. Now more than exhausted he had started out, but with the strength to continue his venture, his muscled claws brought down the stragglers until but a cluster remained guarding the first of his targets. Limping and meek, they simply watched him with open defiance as he slammed his fingers through the rocky floor and began to wrench upward. At first nothing occurred, his biceps straining fruitlessly, but it wasn't long before cracks began to ripple out from where his claw-tipped fingers had buried into the earth. A booming roar exploded from his throat as he heaved up a chunk of the ground two-thirds the size of himself and only a touch smaller in girth. It was this that he used to flatten the remaining weak and collapse in one of the holes. There was no doubt in his mind that even that would reopen in time and it was with this in mind that he repeated the feat and sealed another, this time with no opposition. What dragons remains were few and, luckily, occupied.
Zan could only hope that, with muscles aching and pain still throbbing over his form, that it was enough.
-----------------------------------
OOC:
Dragons
Before: 76
Killed: 40
After: 36
Holes Before: 4
Holes Sealed: 2
Holes Left: 2
Rounds Until Holes Reopen: 4
Total Dragons Remaining: 36
Of these 36…
0 Critically Wounded (1-50 HP)
0 Marginally Wounded (middling HP)
36 Lightly Wounded or Unharmed
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).
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).
-
Lord Canti
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 300
- Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
- Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.
Canti: Well now... What do we have here?
(Much to his satisfaction, hitting the holes with a spell seemed to work. Very cool. He could still hear noise from behind that rock, but it was far too faint to be of any threat. Not for a while, anyway. Canti smirked at this, knowing that he'd hit upon something damn clever here. Their opposition kept spewing forth again and again, so he thought of a way to plug the hole. That was one down and...nine more to go, from the looks of it. Of course, it seemed as though his own progress had not gone unnoticed. Several dragons had begun to attack when he turned around, and before he could get down to the business of killing them, a flash mail came in.)
To: Party
From: Rayo
Things might get dark for a moment once Hijinx and I let out the summon, be ready possible night fighting.
Canti: Wait, what? What kind of sum- AGH!
(The problem with coordinated dragons is that they tended to do things at the most unexpected times, like use five of their own to perform a mid-air tackle that could throw him from the edge of the room. No matter. He needed to get to another hole anyway. However, this really wasn't the way to do it. Standing, now, Canti had out his Bloody Twin, slashing up dragons, beginning to rack in a new score as they came from all sides. He moved around to keep them off balance in this, but there was something else. As he killed his third dragon, there came a sudden wave of black...)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
(It was not known for why the shroud did come, but suddenly...the crow found himself face to face...with the fox. She had clever eyes and a glare of contentment about her, with a relatively small body and brown fur. There was something that the fox wanted to say, something important. Forcing off the claws of the masses in the deep down dark, the crow listened carefully...)
"You're almost there now. I can feel your power becoming something worthwhile. Soon, you'll be complete, and then it will be time."
Canti: Time for what?
"Time for you to find me."
Canti: Find you? What do you mean? You're right here.
"Like a voice shouting across a lake. You'll understand soon enough."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
(When the light returned, Canti found himself near a wall, unsure of his location in the room. That lights-out job was courtesy of the summon in question. He heard Hijinx yell the name, Wryneck, shortly before all of this happened. Now, as a result, it looked as though the dragon ranks were significantly reduced and that a couple of the holes around here were sealed up. Sweet! Only problem was...Canti felt somewhat hurt by the attack. It was darkness, but he didn't have a perfect resistance. He put his hand to his head, as if warding off a hangover.)
Canti: Dammit... That hurt. Why can't they watch their god-damn aim?
"I don't think there was any aim involved at all."
(Hmmm? Canti turned suddenly after hearing a sort of dry and even voice nearby. As he looked, his thoughts were confirmed on the identity of the speaker. It was Senna, whom he'd been seeing fight here and there as he himself was immersed in combat. At her comment, he raised an eyebrow, giving off a look that may have been annoyance or confusion, but his reply was definitely one of irritation towards the caster of the spell.)
Canti: I was afraid of that. You okay?
(He switched gears because he really didn't want to dwell on that, casting a Repth spell shortly after the question. She gave a nod in answer. Seems she hadn't been hit like he was, which was definitely reassuring.)
"Yourself? Looks like we're thinning 'em though."
(There was a slight grin here. This room, despite the dangers, was doing Canti a world of good, so good that he even had his sense of humor working.)
Canti: Oh, I'm on fire. I've never felt better, kicking dragon ass. Figured out those holes too.
(And it seemed as though his funny bravado was having the right effect, as Senna laughed at his little joke, and then spoke her next in full sincerity.)
"That was you? Thanks. Good catch."
(Heh. For once, it wasn't Dien or Zan or someone who came up with the clever shit. Well, he had his moments. It wasn't anything that Canti called brilliance. It was just a funny thought that turned out alright. If you really want to get down to it, his basic instincts told him to do it. Let's just face it, the effect was making this job alot easier.)
Canti: Yeah, I think that's how we'll beat them.
(He looked over his left shoulder and found that a couple of the stragglers in this mess were heading right for him. Canti wasted no time and...blatently ignored them until they were closer. After that, he let loose Twin Darkness to kill them quickly as a thought entered his mind. He turned back to talk to Senna, feeling just a tad bit guilty.)
Canti: Listen, uhhh... About before, with me and Dien... I wasn't trying to keep you out of the loop on purpose. I just didn't want him shouting all over the place.
(He meant how he'd basically made sure that Dien wouldn't cause a huge and loud fricken' controversy right in the middle of everyone's battle while the two of them were talking Suraisu. The idea of him being maybe alive and well, maybe even associated or posing as their mysterious flash-mailer, was one he wanted to avoid causing a panic with. The human lightning rod was a terror, especially in how human he was. Too much talk of him might cause trouble, and this Marionette business was already a bit crazy. Senna only nodded at first, taking a moment to cast Ani Zot on one of the holes, then returned to the conversation.)
"Don't worry. I trust you have your reasons for your actions, neh?"
Canti: Yeah... To make a long story short, I think I might've met this guy before, but I can't prove it until we see him.
"Met it before? Huh. When? If I may ask."
(Canti blinked at the "It" comment, forgetting how Senna referred to the guy. Not knowing the gender of their 'adversary', she thought of him as a thing than a person, thus far. The Twin Blade shrugged this off and turned to kill a dragon, his blades pounding into reptilian flesh with grand precision, making his sixth kill lately. Then, back to Senna...)
Canti: In a dark tower that stretched from heaven to hell... Our 'faithful guide' is who I think we're dealing with.
(There was an odd little smile given to that, a strange little reaction that disappeared quickly.)
"Sounds pleasant. If it is, is there something specific to watch for from it?"
Canti: Watch your back and hope I'm wrong. Suraisu's unstable if it is him. And if you've got lightning protection, use it.
(A nod of understanding, then...)
"Before that though - I wonder if this is the last of these, or..."
(The Twin Blade shook his head.)
Canti: No... I think we'll have to deal with mama.
"Eh. Unlucky for her."
Canti: Heh. Yeah...
(He held up his daggers defensively as he turned to the room again. It wasn't that the conversation had gone south. He just needed to get back to work around here. Those holes weren't sealing themselves. Other people were doing his job for him, and that's not what he wanted at all. If I guy has something to do, he should do it. Then again, wasn't that true of all of them? But anyway, Senna's comment put a smile on his face. Anything in this room was basically screwed with Canti around, what with the elemental nature of the beasts and the fact that he'd built an expertise on dragons. One big mama-dragon might be easy, if it were to happen. While he'd been in conversation, alot of their opposition was being totalled by the Freedom Fighter's Wrecking Crew. Plus, it seemed as though a fair few of the holes were all sealed up. With the one Senna just worked on having been taken care of, that left one whopping portal for the damn dragons. There was just one problem, one that almost had Canti perform a jawdropping maneuver.)
Canti: ALL THE WAY OVER THERE?!
(Across the room and past some stalagmite, over the lava and - Oh yeah! - through the remaining enemies in the room. Oh, lucky day... Well, it really could've been alot worse, but only in a way that would involve more dragons. And so, in keeping with the idea of speeding up this battle, Canti was off. He started off in a super-speedy run, one that was clearly faster than the dragons. He'd used this to slash a couple from behind and perform numerous backstabs to finish them quickly. That worked well...up until the third of those when his Speed Charm wore off shortly after the death that would make nine total. Canti saw a dragon swooping in, fire-breath going off. And then...)
Canti: Ole'!
*CRUNCH!!*
(Number ten cracked its skull open and was murdered while disoriented. Canti was a Twin Blade without scruples. If that bothers you, go away. However, shortly after he began to approach the lava pool, talons picked him right off the ground as a dragon took him by the shoulders and flew him over lava to be attacked by others. He fired off the skill of Tiger Claws, wounding several dragons before flipping back and grabbing the tail in mid-air. Canti used that to flip on top of the creature, then began to guide it with his knives...into a wall. The eleventh dragon died with a squelch of its skull, and then he caught one trying to swoop in while waiting for his SP to regenerate a bit. Funny thing... He was just standing there, in front of the hole, so when the dragon came, Canti moved and it flew right in there. When it tried to come back out, Canti just began punching it repeatedly until it fell to his Gan Zot attack, ruining the last hole in the place. Now, if they were lucky, there would be only stragglers...and then victory.)
OOC: Oh yeah... I kicks a helluva lot of ass.
Dragons
Before: 36
Killed: 12
After: 24
Holes Before: 2
Holes Sealed: One from Canti and one from Senna.
Holes Left: 0
Rounds Until Holes Reopen (NH: yes, they can, if it takes four more rounds to kill 24 dragons.): 4
Total Dragons Remaining: 24
Of these 24...
0 Critically Wounded (1-50 HP)
4 Marginally Wounded (middling HP)
20 Lightly Wounded or Unharmed
Nice haul!
(Much to his satisfaction, hitting the holes with a spell seemed to work. Very cool. He could still hear noise from behind that rock, but it was far too faint to be of any threat. Not for a while, anyway. Canti smirked at this, knowing that he'd hit upon something damn clever here. Their opposition kept spewing forth again and again, so he thought of a way to plug the hole. That was one down and...nine more to go, from the looks of it. Of course, it seemed as though his own progress had not gone unnoticed. Several dragons had begun to attack when he turned around, and before he could get down to the business of killing them, a flash mail came in.)
To: Party
From: Rayo
Things might get dark for a moment once Hijinx and I let out the summon, be ready possible night fighting.
Canti: Wait, what? What kind of sum- AGH!
(The problem with coordinated dragons is that they tended to do things at the most unexpected times, like use five of their own to perform a mid-air tackle that could throw him from the edge of the room. No matter. He needed to get to another hole anyway. However, this really wasn't the way to do it. Standing, now, Canti had out his Bloody Twin, slashing up dragons, beginning to rack in a new score as they came from all sides. He moved around to keep them off balance in this, but there was something else. As he killed his third dragon, there came a sudden wave of black...)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
(It was not known for why the shroud did come, but suddenly...the crow found himself face to face...with the fox. She had clever eyes and a glare of contentment about her, with a relatively small body and brown fur. There was something that the fox wanted to say, something important. Forcing off the claws of the masses in the deep down dark, the crow listened carefully...)
"You're almost there now. I can feel your power becoming something worthwhile. Soon, you'll be complete, and then it will be time."
Canti: Time for what?
"Time for you to find me."
Canti: Find you? What do you mean? You're right here.
"Like a voice shouting across a lake. You'll understand soon enough."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
(When the light returned, Canti found himself near a wall, unsure of his location in the room. That lights-out job was courtesy of the summon in question. He heard Hijinx yell the name, Wryneck, shortly before all of this happened. Now, as a result, it looked as though the dragon ranks were significantly reduced and that a couple of the holes around here were sealed up. Sweet! Only problem was...Canti felt somewhat hurt by the attack. It was darkness, but he didn't have a perfect resistance. He put his hand to his head, as if warding off a hangover.)
Canti: Dammit... That hurt. Why can't they watch their god-damn aim?
"I don't think there was any aim involved at all."
(Hmmm? Canti turned suddenly after hearing a sort of dry and even voice nearby. As he looked, his thoughts were confirmed on the identity of the speaker. It was Senna, whom he'd been seeing fight here and there as he himself was immersed in combat. At her comment, he raised an eyebrow, giving off a look that may have been annoyance or confusion, but his reply was definitely one of irritation towards the caster of the spell.)
Canti: I was afraid of that. You okay?
(He switched gears because he really didn't want to dwell on that, casting a Repth spell shortly after the question. She gave a nod in answer. Seems she hadn't been hit like he was, which was definitely reassuring.)
"Yourself? Looks like we're thinning 'em though."
(There was a slight grin here. This room, despite the dangers, was doing Canti a world of good, so good that he even had his sense of humor working.)
Canti: Oh, I'm on fire. I've never felt better, kicking dragon ass. Figured out those holes too.
(And it seemed as though his funny bravado was having the right effect, as Senna laughed at his little joke, and then spoke her next in full sincerity.)
"That was you? Thanks. Good catch."
(Heh. For once, it wasn't Dien or Zan or someone who came up with the clever shit. Well, he had his moments. It wasn't anything that Canti called brilliance. It was just a funny thought that turned out alright. If you really want to get down to it, his basic instincts told him to do it. Let's just face it, the effect was making this job alot easier.)
Canti: Yeah, I think that's how we'll beat them.
(He looked over his left shoulder and found that a couple of the stragglers in this mess were heading right for him. Canti wasted no time and...blatently ignored them until they were closer. After that, he let loose Twin Darkness to kill them quickly as a thought entered his mind. He turned back to talk to Senna, feeling just a tad bit guilty.)
Canti: Listen, uhhh... About before, with me and Dien... I wasn't trying to keep you out of the loop on purpose. I just didn't want him shouting all over the place.
(He meant how he'd basically made sure that Dien wouldn't cause a huge and loud fricken' controversy right in the middle of everyone's battle while the two of them were talking Suraisu. The idea of him being maybe alive and well, maybe even associated or posing as their mysterious flash-mailer, was one he wanted to avoid causing a panic with. The human lightning rod was a terror, especially in how human he was. Too much talk of him might cause trouble, and this Marionette business was already a bit crazy. Senna only nodded at first, taking a moment to cast Ani Zot on one of the holes, then returned to the conversation.)
"Don't worry. I trust you have your reasons for your actions, neh?"
Canti: Yeah... To make a long story short, I think I might've met this guy before, but I can't prove it until we see him.
"Met it before? Huh. When? If I may ask."
(Canti blinked at the "It" comment, forgetting how Senna referred to the guy. Not knowing the gender of their 'adversary', she thought of him as a thing than a person, thus far. The Twin Blade shrugged this off and turned to kill a dragon, his blades pounding into reptilian flesh with grand precision, making his sixth kill lately. Then, back to Senna...)
Canti: In a dark tower that stretched from heaven to hell... Our 'faithful guide' is who I think we're dealing with.
(There was an odd little smile given to that, a strange little reaction that disappeared quickly.)
"Sounds pleasant. If it is, is there something specific to watch for from it?"
Canti: Watch your back and hope I'm wrong. Suraisu's unstable if it is him. And if you've got lightning protection, use it.
(A nod of understanding, then...)
"Before that though - I wonder if this is the last of these, or..."
(The Twin Blade shook his head.)
Canti: No... I think we'll have to deal with mama.
"Eh. Unlucky for her."
Canti: Heh. Yeah...
(He held up his daggers defensively as he turned to the room again. It wasn't that the conversation had gone south. He just needed to get back to work around here. Those holes weren't sealing themselves. Other people were doing his job for him, and that's not what he wanted at all. If I guy has something to do, he should do it. Then again, wasn't that true of all of them? But anyway, Senna's comment put a smile on his face. Anything in this room was basically screwed with Canti around, what with the elemental nature of the beasts and the fact that he'd built an expertise on dragons. One big mama-dragon might be easy, if it were to happen. While he'd been in conversation, alot of their opposition was being totalled by the Freedom Fighter's Wrecking Crew. Plus, it seemed as though a fair few of the holes were all sealed up. With the one Senna just worked on having been taken care of, that left one whopping portal for the damn dragons. There was just one problem, one that almost had Canti perform a jawdropping maneuver.)
Canti: ALL THE WAY OVER THERE?!
(Across the room and past some stalagmite, over the lava and - Oh yeah! - through the remaining enemies in the room. Oh, lucky day... Well, it really could've been alot worse, but only in a way that would involve more dragons. And so, in keeping with the idea of speeding up this battle, Canti was off. He started off in a super-speedy run, one that was clearly faster than the dragons. He'd used this to slash a couple from behind and perform numerous backstabs to finish them quickly. That worked well...up until the third of those when his Speed Charm wore off shortly after the death that would make nine total. Canti saw a dragon swooping in, fire-breath going off. And then...)
Canti: Ole'!
*CRUNCH!!*
(Number ten cracked its skull open and was murdered while disoriented. Canti was a Twin Blade without scruples. If that bothers you, go away. However, shortly after he began to approach the lava pool, talons picked him right off the ground as a dragon took him by the shoulders and flew him over lava to be attacked by others. He fired off the skill of Tiger Claws, wounding several dragons before flipping back and grabbing the tail in mid-air. Canti used that to flip on top of the creature, then began to guide it with his knives...into a wall. The eleventh dragon died with a squelch of its skull, and then he caught one trying to swoop in while waiting for his SP to regenerate a bit. Funny thing... He was just standing there, in front of the hole, so when the dragon came, Canti moved and it flew right in there. When it tried to come back out, Canti just began punching it repeatedly until it fell to his Gan Zot attack, ruining the last hole in the place. Now, if they were lucky, there would be only stragglers...and then victory.)
OOC: Oh yeah... I kicks a helluva lot of ass.
Dragons
Before: 36
Killed: 12
After: 24
Holes Before: 2
Holes Sealed: One from Canti and one from Senna.
Holes Left: 0
Rounds Until Holes Reopen (NH: yes, they can, if it takes four more rounds to kill 24 dragons.): 4
Total Dragons Remaining: 24
Of these 24...
0 Critically Wounded (1-50 HP)
4 Marginally Wounded (middling HP)
20 Lightly Wounded or Unharmed
Nice haul!
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.
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.
-
Dien
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 226
- Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 1:59 am
- Class: Blademaster
- Location: The "Who's Online List," Stalking People...
-PING-
The incumbent ring of a flashmail aroused Dien from his moments of dozing off. After that last dragon, somehow he’d been able to stand still without fear of interruption. Another ping greeted his ears, followed by another. Flashmails? He asked himself, eyes glazing over as he mentally scrolled through the menu. Yes, he did have flashmails: three of them. The first one he had already answered, having previously talked to Canti about its contents, and then even followed that conversation up. The second was timed to just before he’d been revived to go talk to Nall. Rayo was warning everyone of some massive night-based attack, which the blademaster believed now was largely responsible for the dragons’ sparse numbers. The third, though, was a forward from Zan.
What the- Dien thought, his eyes quickly running over it. What the hell did she mean that she was being taken by Twilight? The lack of an immediate answer sent off a warning in his head and his face paled, suddenly feeling very much more alone. Dammit, Danielle! he thought, this is no time to screw with my mind! No response. He swore aloud, knowing something bad had come up. A sudden blow to his back reminded him of the fact that he was in a battle situation, albeit a sparse battle situation. Two sharp strokes rendered the offender dead, and the blademaster turned. The flashmail had been sent first to Zan, so it would be prudent to talk to him about it – though not forget that they were, in fact, still in battle. She’d managed to teach him that much.
“Zan!” Dien called, walking up to the now werewolf that stood head and shoulders above him, “I got your forward. Any idea what's up?” The lycanthrope, initially annoyed at Dien's sudden need to converse during a fight but soon losing such aggression upon realization that their numbers were too few to be overly concerned with, turned to face the Blademaster.
“No.” The combination of Zan's new form and morphed vocal cords prevented him from too detailed a response. For a moment, he was taken aback at the almost growl of a response, but knew it was probably just part of the transformation. Dien made himself forget it, hearing a snarl from behind him and turning quickly to behead the offender before it could give any more trouble.
“Oh,” he replied, “well I thought you might, as you were the original recipient.” Why she’d chosen him first the blademaster would never know, but nonetheless it was troubling.
Around the room, he could see the dragons retreating to regroup away from their opponents, their support from the woodwork having been cut off. Pretty much everyone welcomed the small break with open arms, but Dien knew that there wouldn't be much of a break, especially once the beasts had decided on a plan of action. It would take some killer strategy to take out all of the dragons in one blow, but slowly a plan formed in the hacker-blademaster's mind.
“Hey, you have MeRue Rom somewhere in your inventory, right?” he asked, looking to the lycanthrope. The hulking figure, soaked in the blood of his violent shift, looked down (literally, of course) on his friend and nodded. An almost reflexive snarl crawled from his lips as he opened them, though there were no anger in his words, simply curiosity.
“Yes.” A breath. “Rare item.”
“Figures,” Dien said, “I don't suppose I could borrow said item for a few moments to go deal with our friends over there in one last strong blow?” He gestured over his shoulder to where the dragons had gathered across the room. Zan was still exhausted with his rock-feat and the slaughter of dragons he had rushed through so, not focused enough to efficiently use the spell himself, a languid bow of his massive head was given.
“Yes.” A flick of his wrist and six gold wrist-rings appeared in the air in Dien's direction, disappearing once more when they got close. “Return. Soon.”
“Thanks,” the blademaster replied with a smile, “and you can count on me – though they might be a little covered in blood by the time I get them back to you...”
A quick look at himself, as if to say, ‘does it look like blood bothers me?’ before he gave his wolfish impersonation of a laugh.
“Go.”
He laughed, turning and giving himself the necessary Aps once more before waving over his shoulder and hastily walking towards the horde. Ap Ruem, Ap Do, and Rig Gaem were all in place, having consumed the majority of his SP. It was why he walked so slowly, giving it enough time to regenerate before he would begin his onslaught. He made it past the center dragon before enough of it was back, and smirked, pulling out glitter and equipping Zan’s item to his hand. Shiva’s Rings… he thought, their metal cold against his skin as he pushed into a run. Sure enough, their most powerful skill was MeRue Rom.
Planting the target right in the midst of the group that had just become canny to his approach, he released the spell twice, the magic energies overlapping and compounding in a shine of blue glory. All of the dragons were caught in the blast, its radius expanded slightly by the compound energies. Dien smirked, standing still and watching as the spell finished. Only a handful of dragons remained, and each one was injured. Two seemed like a stiff wind could send them to their deaths, but the other two still had a good chunk of their strength left. They shrieked, but it was different this time: they weren’t being loud or proud, but rather crying out for fear of their lives.
“No,” Dien said, charging at the weakest one and pulling Glitter over his head, “you don’t get my sympathy after you tried to kill us.” His blade surged into the thing’s chest, chunks of ice left behind as it gave a final gasp before fading through red to nothing. A quick few steps to his right, and the next dragon received a sharp slice to its neck, removing its head and causing it to fade out through red.
A red rune appeared over his head, and he turned, letting the fire fall down on him from above. His blood was boiling in the spell’s heat, but his teeth clenched shut as he cast repth, letting its effects run before the Vak Don had completed. In two steps, he made it to the third dragon, this one making a feeble attempt at flight only to be cut down by a Rue Crack. One more, he thought, turning to scan the area for the last survivor. Suddenly, a scream rained down from above, and his gaze shifted there. All at once, a rain of flame fell on him, the dragon’s throat releasing the tenders at him furiously.
Dien rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding more damage by fire before the dragon veered upward again, trying its hardest to stay out of his line of fire. Another rune appeared over his head, and he grimaced, this time globs of something akin to napalm appearing in the thin air and promptly sticking themselves to his skin. Wait, he thought, the dragon beginning to fly across the room, he wants to hit me with a spell? Let’s just show him who he’s messing with. The Cougar Bandanna was swapped out once more, its replacement the Heavenly Tiara. Quickly his mind traced the dragon’s course, and foolishly it had decided to fly directly over a fairly large pit of lava.
“Gan Don!” He shouted, pointing both of his hands at the distant beast. All at once, a rock formed above it as its figure halted midair. Before it could react, the boulder shot downward, pummeling the dragon into the pit of fire below. A deafening crack resounded as its speeding body collided with the dense magma before erupting into flames.
__________
OOC:
All dragons defeated and all holes closed. Thanks to Zan for the Shiva’s Rings, and now I believe it’s Nighthand’s turn to tell us what comes next.
The incumbent ring of a flashmail aroused Dien from his moments of dozing off. After that last dragon, somehow he’d been able to stand still without fear of interruption. Another ping greeted his ears, followed by another. Flashmails? He asked himself, eyes glazing over as he mentally scrolled through the menu. Yes, he did have flashmails: three of them. The first one he had already answered, having previously talked to Canti about its contents, and then even followed that conversation up. The second was timed to just before he’d been revived to go talk to Nall. Rayo was warning everyone of some massive night-based attack, which the blademaster believed now was largely responsible for the dragons’ sparse numbers. The third, though, was a forward from Zan.
What the- Dien thought, his eyes quickly running over it. What the hell did she mean that she was being taken by Twilight? The lack of an immediate answer sent off a warning in his head and his face paled, suddenly feeling very much more alone. Dammit, Danielle! he thought, this is no time to screw with my mind! No response. He swore aloud, knowing something bad had come up. A sudden blow to his back reminded him of the fact that he was in a battle situation, albeit a sparse battle situation. Two sharp strokes rendered the offender dead, and the blademaster turned. The flashmail had been sent first to Zan, so it would be prudent to talk to him about it – though not forget that they were, in fact, still in battle. She’d managed to teach him that much.
“Zan!” Dien called, walking up to the now werewolf that stood head and shoulders above him, “I got your forward. Any idea what's up?” The lycanthrope, initially annoyed at Dien's sudden need to converse during a fight but soon losing such aggression upon realization that their numbers were too few to be overly concerned with, turned to face the Blademaster.
“No.” The combination of Zan's new form and morphed vocal cords prevented him from too detailed a response. For a moment, he was taken aback at the almost growl of a response, but knew it was probably just part of the transformation. Dien made himself forget it, hearing a snarl from behind him and turning quickly to behead the offender before it could give any more trouble.
“Oh,” he replied, “well I thought you might, as you were the original recipient.” Why she’d chosen him first the blademaster would never know, but nonetheless it was troubling.
Around the room, he could see the dragons retreating to regroup away from their opponents, their support from the woodwork having been cut off. Pretty much everyone welcomed the small break with open arms, but Dien knew that there wouldn't be much of a break, especially once the beasts had decided on a plan of action. It would take some killer strategy to take out all of the dragons in one blow, but slowly a plan formed in the hacker-blademaster's mind.
“Hey, you have MeRue Rom somewhere in your inventory, right?” he asked, looking to the lycanthrope. The hulking figure, soaked in the blood of his violent shift, looked down (literally, of course) on his friend and nodded. An almost reflexive snarl crawled from his lips as he opened them, though there were no anger in his words, simply curiosity.
“Yes.” A breath. “Rare item.”
“Figures,” Dien said, “I don't suppose I could borrow said item for a few moments to go deal with our friends over there in one last strong blow?” He gestured over his shoulder to where the dragons had gathered across the room. Zan was still exhausted with his rock-feat and the slaughter of dragons he had rushed through so, not focused enough to efficiently use the spell himself, a languid bow of his massive head was given.
“Yes.” A flick of his wrist and six gold wrist-rings appeared in the air in Dien's direction, disappearing once more when they got close. “Return. Soon.”
“Thanks,” the blademaster replied with a smile, “and you can count on me – though they might be a little covered in blood by the time I get them back to you...”
A quick look at himself, as if to say, ‘does it look like blood bothers me?’ before he gave his wolfish impersonation of a laugh.
“Go.”
He laughed, turning and giving himself the necessary Aps once more before waving over his shoulder and hastily walking towards the horde. Ap Ruem, Ap Do, and Rig Gaem were all in place, having consumed the majority of his SP. It was why he walked so slowly, giving it enough time to regenerate before he would begin his onslaught. He made it past the center dragon before enough of it was back, and smirked, pulling out glitter and equipping Zan’s item to his hand. Shiva’s Rings… he thought, their metal cold against his skin as he pushed into a run. Sure enough, their most powerful skill was MeRue Rom.
Planting the target right in the midst of the group that had just become canny to his approach, he released the spell twice, the magic energies overlapping and compounding in a shine of blue glory. All of the dragons were caught in the blast, its radius expanded slightly by the compound energies. Dien smirked, standing still and watching as the spell finished. Only a handful of dragons remained, and each one was injured. Two seemed like a stiff wind could send them to their deaths, but the other two still had a good chunk of their strength left. They shrieked, but it was different this time: they weren’t being loud or proud, but rather crying out for fear of their lives.
“No,” Dien said, charging at the weakest one and pulling Glitter over his head, “you don’t get my sympathy after you tried to kill us.” His blade surged into the thing’s chest, chunks of ice left behind as it gave a final gasp before fading through red to nothing. A quick few steps to his right, and the next dragon received a sharp slice to its neck, removing its head and causing it to fade out through red.
A red rune appeared over his head, and he turned, letting the fire fall down on him from above. His blood was boiling in the spell’s heat, but his teeth clenched shut as he cast repth, letting its effects run before the Vak Don had completed. In two steps, he made it to the third dragon, this one making a feeble attempt at flight only to be cut down by a Rue Crack. One more, he thought, turning to scan the area for the last survivor. Suddenly, a scream rained down from above, and his gaze shifted there. All at once, a rain of flame fell on him, the dragon’s throat releasing the tenders at him furiously.
Dien rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding more damage by fire before the dragon veered upward again, trying its hardest to stay out of his line of fire. Another rune appeared over his head, and he grimaced, this time globs of something akin to napalm appearing in the thin air and promptly sticking themselves to his skin. Wait, he thought, the dragon beginning to fly across the room, he wants to hit me with a spell? Let’s just show him who he’s messing with. The Cougar Bandanna was swapped out once more, its replacement the Heavenly Tiara. Quickly his mind traced the dragon’s course, and foolishly it had decided to fly directly over a fairly large pit of lava.
“Gan Don!” He shouted, pointing both of his hands at the distant beast. All at once, a rock formed above it as its figure halted midair. Before it could react, the boulder shot downward, pummeling the dragon into the pit of fire below. A deafening crack resounded as its speeding body collided with the dense magma before erupting into flames.
__________
OOC:
All dragons defeated and all holes closed. Thanks to Zan for the Shiva’s Rings, and now I believe it’s Nighthand’s turn to tell us what comes next.
-
Nighthand
- Master of Games
- Posts: 1265
- Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
- Class: Bladesmage
- Location: ...Tracking...please wait...
So. All the dragons were dead. Again. The heavyblade surveyed the area, looking for any scraps left over, anything that could indicate what to do next. Nothing. All the corpses has faded into data bits and dispersed long since. From high above, the room seemed oddly quiet. Nothing except the party moved among the scrambled scenery, and hardly them. They all stood ready, waiting for the next round they knew would come.
Nighthand ceased his circling and landed on top of the dragon statue. It wasn't as hot as it had been; only enough to warm his shoes, nothing more. He wiped sweat from his brow, ready to fly off should the need be. He half expected the big statue to come to life and rip out of the ground to terrorize them all.
Thankfully, that didn't happen. Nighthand looked around, spotted the blademaster that was their leader, and called to him.
”Hey Nall! Come take a look at this thing, would you?” He stood like a gargoyle on the statue's head. ”I'd like to know whether or not to hit it or whatever.” As if to illustrate his readiness, he swung his blade around a few times.
Nall moved forward and circled the statue slowly, his eyes scanning the surface and deeper, into the coding only he could see.
”Hmm. There seem to be locks on the jaw. Two of them are released, one of them isn't. Looks like we have more left to do before we can open up the mouth and get the key.”
“I wonder what...”
As if his words had summoned them, the next wave took this chance to appear. First, the insistent scratching at the back of the cavern walls ceased. It looked like the dragons they had trapped no longer had the drive to get out and fight them. The real monsters, though, appeared from the lava pools situated around the room. They appeared to have been lurking there the whole time. Wait... they? No, more correctly, It. Two great heads rose on long, snaking necks. The first, striking quick as a snake, snapped where Nall had stood. Nighthand expected to see the blademaster appear elsewhere, escaped before the beast's jaws had closed. He realized an instant too late that the little strip of green in the dragon's mouth was Nall's jacket. The blademaster was stuck inside the dragon's mouth!
Nighthand leaped off the statue, to dash and save their strongest member, but he too was caught up in the jaws of the beast's second head. Suddenly enveloped in silence, Nighthand started to pry the beast's jaws open with his blade. They loosed a fraction, and molten rock gushed in. Yelping, he pulled back, letting the jaws close.
Looking around, he examined his situation. He seemed to be in no immediate danger. He had some room to move around; in fact, it was rather like a jail cell. That alone told tales of the massive size of the beast. Nighthand wrote a quick flashmail.
Flashmail!
To: Nall
From: Nighthand
RE: Jail
It appears we're trapped. Don't try to get out, we're in the lava and I don't know how deep. I think it's not trying to kill us, at least not yet. Just keep us from the action.
The return sound chimed moments later. After all, not like they had anything else to do.
Flashmail!
To: Nighthand
From: Nall
RE: Jail
Yes, I know. Looks like we're out for the moment. I'll flashmail what I know of the beast to everyone.
And so he did, Nighthand receiving the mail along with everyone else.
Flashmail!
To: The party
From: Nall
RE: The monster
The beast is called the Flare Hydra. It has three heads and one tail. The body is completely submerged, but should pose no threat; I don't think it can go any higher than it already is. Two of the heads have Nighthand and I in them, the third is probably what you're fighting. The tail is more than long enough to come up through a different lava pool, attack, and submerge again, so watch out.
Each head has 500 HP. Odd, it doesn't seem like much. The tail can't be killed.
It can cast all level 3 vak spells, as well as Vulcan Ch.
-----
The group, watching from the outside, experienced some of this first hand. Dien, first of all; he was the first (or third, rather) target of the monster, having been the one to finish off it's brood. Frantically, he tossed the rare item he had borrowed from Zan back to the lycanthrope, just moments before the tail emerged from a nearby lava pool. He tried to dodge, but it was too fast, catching him around the leg and raising him high into the air. He attacked it with his blade, but to no effect; he was quickly dunked into the lava and his now-charred body tossed back onto the land. The tail disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Only one head was above the surface, as Nall's flashmail had said. It was coated from snout to base of the next with molten rock. How could they attack such a thing? Thankfully, the violence of it's rising from the pool of lava had broken up some of the surrounding rock. There were enough floating “islands” of solid rock in the lava, that they could possibly make it to the beast's body and attack. It wouldn't be safe, by any means, but it would be possible.
------------------------ooc:
Flare Hydra Head C
HP: 500
SP Unknown/unlimited
Physical: A giant dragon's head on a long neck, big enough to swallow a person whole and keep them, somewhat comfortably, in it's mouth. It's entire surface is coated with glowing molten rock.
Passive abilities:
--Molten Coat: As long as the beast is coated with molten rock, it is immune to physical and absorbs fire spells to increase it's HP. The coating slowly cools, taking a round to do so, but at the start of each round, it dunks itself again to refresh the coating. The coating CAN be cooled manually; if it is, it takes damage from physical, and fire spells don't heal it, merely refresh the coating for it.
--High Defenses: Each “hit” deals a simply 1 HP, no matter your level. Only Nall might be able to do more per hit. Physical skills I leave to your discretion to determine their hits, since you don't go by the game definitions. As for spells, Rom = 10 hits, Don, Kruz, and Zot are 1 hit each, for level 1 spells. Level 2 is that figure times two. Level 3 is level 1 times 3. Level 4 probably won't come about. Summons are the same as rom, only level +1: i.e. Level 1 summon is 20 hits.
Active abilities:
--Tail Swipe: Just like Dien was dunked, once per round it auto-kills someone in this fashion. Only once, though.
--Vak Spells: All level 3 vak spells (only level 3, not 2 or 1), and level 2 vak summon are at it's command.
--Fire breathing: It can breath fire. It's a dragon. React accordingly
Side notes: gravity.. not gonna do too much against it. Canti, your fire resist isn't high enough to let you survive it's fire based attacks any better. Uhm... other than that, have fun? Next post Thursday, and I may or may not post twice a week for monster reactions; depends on how the posting goes.
Nighthand ceased his circling and landed on top of the dragon statue. It wasn't as hot as it had been; only enough to warm his shoes, nothing more. He wiped sweat from his brow, ready to fly off should the need be. He half expected the big statue to come to life and rip out of the ground to terrorize them all.
Thankfully, that didn't happen. Nighthand looked around, spotted the blademaster that was their leader, and called to him.
”Hey Nall! Come take a look at this thing, would you?” He stood like a gargoyle on the statue's head. ”I'd like to know whether or not to hit it or whatever.” As if to illustrate his readiness, he swung his blade around a few times.
Nall moved forward and circled the statue slowly, his eyes scanning the surface and deeper, into the coding only he could see.
”Hmm. There seem to be locks on the jaw. Two of them are released, one of them isn't. Looks like we have more left to do before we can open up the mouth and get the key.”
“I wonder what...”
As if his words had summoned them, the next wave took this chance to appear. First, the insistent scratching at the back of the cavern walls ceased. It looked like the dragons they had trapped no longer had the drive to get out and fight them. The real monsters, though, appeared from the lava pools situated around the room. They appeared to have been lurking there the whole time. Wait... they? No, more correctly, It. Two great heads rose on long, snaking necks. The first, striking quick as a snake, snapped where Nall had stood. Nighthand expected to see the blademaster appear elsewhere, escaped before the beast's jaws had closed. He realized an instant too late that the little strip of green in the dragon's mouth was Nall's jacket. The blademaster was stuck inside the dragon's mouth!
Nighthand leaped off the statue, to dash and save their strongest member, but he too was caught up in the jaws of the beast's second head. Suddenly enveloped in silence, Nighthand started to pry the beast's jaws open with his blade. They loosed a fraction, and molten rock gushed in. Yelping, he pulled back, letting the jaws close.
Looking around, he examined his situation. He seemed to be in no immediate danger. He had some room to move around; in fact, it was rather like a jail cell. That alone told tales of the massive size of the beast. Nighthand wrote a quick flashmail.
Flashmail!
To: Nall
From: Nighthand
RE: Jail
It appears we're trapped. Don't try to get out, we're in the lava and I don't know how deep. I think it's not trying to kill us, at least not yet. Just keep us from the action.
The return sound chimed moments later. After all, not like they had anything else to do.
Flashmail!
To: Nighthand
From: Nall
RE: Jail
Yes, I know. Looks like we're out for the moment. I'll flashmail what I know of the beast to everyone.
And so he did, Nighthand receiving the mail along with everyone else.
Flashmail!
To: The party
From: Nall
RE: The monster
The beast is called the Flare Hydra. It has three heads and one tail. The body is completely submerged, but should pose no threat; I don't think it can go any higher than it already is. Two of the heads have Nighthand and I in them, the third is probably what you're fighting. The tail is more than long enough to come up through a different lava pool, attack, and submerge again, so watch out.
Each head has 500 HP. Odd, it doesn't seem like much. The tail can't be killed.
It can cast all level 3 vak spells, as well as Vulcan Ch.
-----
The group, watching from the outside, experienced some of this first hand. Dien, first of all; he was the first (or third, rather) target of the monster, having been the one to finish off it's brood. Frantically, he tossed the rare item he had borrowed from Zan back to the lycanthrope, just moments before the tail emerged from a nearby lava pool. He tried to dodge, but it was too fast, catching him around the leg and raising him high into the air. He attacked it with his blade, but to no effect; he was quickly dunked into the lava and his now-charred body tossed back onto the land. The tail disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Only one head was above the surface, as Nall's flashmail had said. It was coated from snout to base of the next with molten rock. How could they attack such a thing? Thankfully, the violence of it's rising from the pool of lava had broken up some of the surrounding rock. There were enough floating “islands” of solid rock in the lava, that they could possibly make it to the beast's body and attack. It wouldn't be safe, by any means, but it would be possible.
------------------------ooc:
Flare Hydra Head C
HP: 500
SP Unknown/unlimited
Physical: A giant dragon's head on a long neck, big enough to swallow a person whole and keep them, somewhat comfortably, in it's mouth. It's entire surface is coated with glowing molten rock.
Passive abilities:
--Molten Coat: As long as the beast is coated with molten rock, it is immune to physical and absorbs fire spells to increase it's HP. The coating slowly cools, taking a round to do so, but at the start of each round, it dunks itself again to refresh the coating. The coating CAN be cooled manually; if it is, it takes damage from physical, and fire spells don't heal it, merely refresh the coating for it.
--High Defenses: Each “hit” deals a simply 1 HP, no matter your level. Only Nall might be able to do more per hit. Physical skills I leave to your discretion to determine their hits, since you don't go by the game definitions. As for spells, Rom = 10 hits, Don, Kruz, and Zot are 1 hit each, for level 1 spells. Level 2 is that figure times two. Level 3 is level 1 times 3. Level 4 probably won't come about. Summons are the same as rom, only level +1: i.e. Level 1 summon is 20 hits.
Active abilities:
--Tail Swipe: Just like Dien was dunked, once per round it auto-kills someone in this fashion. Only once, though.
--Vak Spells: All level 3 vak spells (only level 3, not 2 or 1), and level 2 vak summon are at it's command.
--Fire breathing: It can breath fire. It's a dragon. React accordingly
Side notes: gravity.. not gonna do too much against it. Canti, your fire resist isn't high enough to let you survive it's fire based attacks any better. Uhm... other than that, have fun? Next post Thursday, and I may or may not post twice a week for monster reactions; depends on how the posting goes.
Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)
Despite the slaughter that erupted from the combined summon, the wavemaster didn’t get to witness any of it. As soon as the dark beast, whatever it looked like, appeared, his eyesight vanished. More accurately, all that was visible was a purple haze, slightly different from just pure black. This was his first time calling forth Wryneck; the mage considered it as possibly the last as well. While unable to ascertain the complete berserk madness that ensued, he could hear it. Thud. His movements ended after tripping over something slender, a pole or a spear. For what reason did it respond in this form? Was it the lack of familiarity with the creature that forced such intensity of the bearer’s pain? With Lanceor there was a physical jolt, but nothing too severe.
Dragons could still be heard, as well as the names of spells and skills as they were performed, but none of that allowed for anything but vague ideas in where the others were. Simply, this wasn’t a case of fighting alone or in small numbers. In the former, it would be acceptable to nuke anywhere you weren’t; there was no chance of striking down any ally. With enemies amassed in such a quantity, it’d be hard not to deal something damage. If there were less of both sides, then it might be possible to actually use proper placement to provide some sort of semi-reliable support casting. With neither of those situations actually existing, the wizard held the damnable Apocalypse Rod above his skull and a bit to the front and waited. Hopefully the effect wouldn’t perpetuate for too long a timeframe, and then he’d return to the battle. Until then, all a blind man could do was maintain a defensive position and hope someone who could see would notice if the scaly ones were beating on him.
The darkness wore off, but not without the passage of a few events. Mainly, the sounds of battle ceased to be as the last of the dragons died and their exit points were sealed up tight. He could hear some voices discussing the pillar, but that was interrupted by an event that happened outside the range of his senses. Only after did his eyesight restore itself.
Normally the wizard would have been a bit lost, but the flash mail from Nall explained the situation clearly enough. Rayo read through the contents as he switched out his equipment back to the standard configuration. Simply enough, there was a fire beast with minimal stamina. It had three jail cells for any players it captured, but the limit of three made that less of a threat. The tail didn’t seem too bad either until it dragged Dien under and then spit him back out completely toasted. Snapping his fingers over towards the blade master’s corpse, the melee fighter was restored his health promptly.
Since the lava demon was poking out of lava pools, it didn’t seem like it would be fun for anyone to be forced to run towards it. It’d be too easy to get knocked in and killed. Worst of all, if the body remained under the lava, any immediate revival would result in the an instant death. The lag time for the ghosts to emerge could result in inefficient recovery and that wouldn’t do. That combined with what Nall said it could entice from the pits of Hell… Vulcan and the related spells to it’s element would make short work of them. Calling out to the others, the wizard issued a reasonable warning as he fired off his first offensive spell.
“We should spread out so that the heavy hitting spells won’t take out more than one person if they land. Vulcan can hit near everywhere anyway, but it’s worth protecting against. Anyone with access to Ap Vaks should readily consider casting it on everyone present.”
His borrowed water spell the exposed head, but only dealt a series of ones to the monstrosity. Obviously what it lacked in overall HP it made up for in defense. It’s physical might not be equally solid, but that would be up to someone else to test. Aiming again, the lightning mage chanted another spell, this time his almost signature GiRai Rom. The spell did a bit more damage, but nothing too great. The elemental change didn’t seem to really matter. The wizard hoped it might just be strong against ice. Rayo could probably do even more if he had the third level spell Zan had, but there wasn’t time to acquire that spell right then. He’d have to make a point of getting that before they entered the next room, to be on the safe side.
Given his success damaging it, the mage backed up and prepared a flash mail. He’d do best to utilize his SP reserves and spell selection to the maximum by maintaining a role he didn’t enjoy performing.
<To The Party
Magic only does minimal damage against it. I’m going to be a white mage for now. I’ll focus on revival and HP recovery until the situation changes. I’d ask for someone else to do the same, or at least to pay attention for when I get burnt to a crisp like Dien just was so that the defense doesn’t die out at the same time. I’m not sure on the intelligence of this particular foe yet, so we should keep some of our talk private.
Rayo>
ooc:
Flare Hydra Head C
HP: 470/500
Dragons could still be heard, as well as the names of spells and skills as they were performed, but none of that allowed for anything but vague ideas in where the others were. Simply, this wasn’t a case of fighting alone or in small numbers. In the former, it would be acceptable to nuke anywhere you weren’t; there was no chance of striking down any ally. With enemies amassed in such a quantity, it’d be hard not to deal something damage. If there were less of both sides, then it might be possible to actually use proper placement to provide some sort of semi-reliable support casting. With neither of those situations actually existing, the wizard held the damnable Apocalypse Rod above his skull and a bit to the front and waited. Hopefully the effect wouldn’t perpetuate for too long a timeframe, and then he’d return to the battle. Until then, all a blind man could do was maintain a defensive position and hope someone who could see would notice if the scaly ones were beating on him.
The darkness wore off, but not without the passage of a few events. Mainly, the sounds of battle ceased to be as the last of the dragons died and their exit points were sealed up tight. He could hear some voices discussing the pillar, but that was interrupted by an event that happened outside the range of his senses. Only after did his eyesight restore itself.
Normally the wizard would have been a bit lost, but the flash mail from Nall explained the situation clearly enough. Rayo read through the contents as he switched out his equipment back to the standard configuration. Simply enough, there was a fire beast with minimal stamina. It had three jail cells for any players it captured, but the limit of three made that less of a threat. The tail didn’t seem too bad either until it dragged Dien under and then spit him back out completely toasted. Snapping his fingers over towards the blade master’s corpse, the melee fighter was restored his health promptly.
Since the lava demon was poking out of lava pools, it didn’t seem like it would be fun for anyone to be forced to run towards it. It’d be too easy to get knocked in and killed. Worst of all, if the body remained under the lava, any immediate revival would result in the an instant death. The lag time for the ghosts to emerge could result in inefficient recovery and that wouldn’t do. That combined with what Nall said it could entice from the pits of Hell… Vulcan and the related spells to it’s element would make short work of them. Calling out to the others, the wizard issued a reasonable warning as he fired off his first offensive spell.
“We should spread out so that the heavy hitting spells won’t take out more than one person if they land. Vulcan can hit near everywhere anyway, but it’s worth protecting against. Anyone with access to Ap Vaks should readily consider casting it on everyone present.”
His borrowed water spell the exposed head, but only dealt a series of ones to the monstrosity. Obviously what it lacked in overall HP it made up for in defense. It’s physical might not be equally solid, but that would be up to someone else to test. Aiming again, the lightning mage chanted another spell, this time his almost signature GiRai Rom. The spell did a bit more damage, but nothing too great. The elemental change didn’t seem to really matter. The wizard hoped it might just be strong against ice. Rayo could probably do even more if he had the third level spell Zan had, but there wasn’t time to acquire that spell right then. He’d have to make a point of getting that before they entered the next room, to be on the safe side.
Given his success damaging it, the mage backed up and prepared a flash mail. He’d do best to utilize his SP reserves and spell selection to the maximum by maintaining a role he didn’t enjoy performing.
<To The Party
Magic only does minimal damage against it. I’m going to be a white mage for now. I’ll focus on revival and HP recovery until the situation changes. I’d ask for someone else to do the same, or at least to pay attention for when I get burnt to a crisp like Dien just was so that the defense doesn’t die out at the same time. I’m not sure on the intelligence of this particular foe yet, so we should keep some of our talk private.
Rayo>
ooc:
Flare Hydra Head C
HP: 470/500
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
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
Zan watched in a sort of idle apathy as the Blademaster used his Shiva Rings with lethal efficiency. The last of the flapping menaces fell with Dien's carefully timed and almost perfectly aimed assault. Zan had to give it to the kid, he had just used the Rings with the same skill (if not a touch more) than he himself was capable of. That noted, the Heavy Blade still wanted his rare back and when such a thing had occurred...it was with a deadly exclamation. The next challenge (and hopefully the last in the room) reared its ugly heads, three in total, and immediately offed any big advantage they might have had with their two most powerful companions. If such an act was deliberate, the Flare Hydra was smart. If it hadn't done it on purpose? It was damn lucky. Zan didn't know about the rest of his teammates, but he wasn't too revved to go against something that big with that kind of luck. Sighing, something that came out more like a bestial snort in his current form, Zan stood up from his weakened stance and prepared to plot up some sort of strategy when the Shiva Rings, his Rings, flew towards him and disappeared into his inventory once more. No thanks could be given to Dien for its return, sadly, as the tale of the creature appeared from one of the various lava pools and snatched away his friend without hesitation.
A second later and the charred and blatantly vacant corpse was tossed from its dunk and landed only a few feet from the lycanthrope. Zan's hand stopped half-way through tossing the Resurrect when, surprisingly, Dien rose in health from his death. Confusion displayed itself over the Heavy Blade's expression at first, but a glance over to the Wavemaster Rayo gave him an explanation. Oh, right. Zan had forgotten that, finally, they had someone in the Freedom Fighters with a damn Rim Maen spell. Giving the Blademaster near him an encouraging nod of his head, fearing that the constant deaths Dien were facing would diminish his spirit, Zan resumed his strategic contemplations. There were a number of ways to go about facing the beast, but only a select few of these options were moderately risky (rather than a down right gamble). He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, pondering his choices, when he realized the previous thought was a little too close to the truth. It really had seemed like forever, an eternity ebbing and flowing away from him...back to him. Zan would have been foolish to question the reasoning behind his time-based vertigo. The PVM was getting back at him for his struggled transformation and it was doing it with a vengeance. The humidity that had once soothed him was beginning to mount to almost unbearable levels, but for reasons other than the field he resided in at that moment.
The lycanthrope was saturated, internally, by the onsetting fever, the sickness of the secondary virus becoming now both digital and biological to a more surreal level. Zan felt blood begin to dribble into his lungs as vessels swelled and popped, his vision beginning to blur and glow in random splotches. A hacked cough, one that flowed him his vocal cords like a rumbling, titanic bark, brought a puddle of blood from his throat and to the ground at his feet. He couldn't help but sway then, the PVM beginning to best the oddly quiet Twilight that seemed passive about the decisive and molecular maneuver its brethren was making. No..not now... was all Zan could think, the sight of the Flare Hydra's third head lilting and doubling before his unstable pupils. If Zan, or any of them, stayed out of this fight for more than a temporary basis it could all very well go to Hell. Doing what he always did when these sorts of emergencies would arise, he pushed his senses into overdrive and tapped into his wolf's Instinct (a thing that was as helpful as it was dangerous) for an answer. What came to him was a sight of Dien a few feet away with...something hovering in front of him. Zan's vision was too hazy, too temporarily useless, to make it out, but it smelled so familiar...so God damn familiar. A light-bulb moment of realization and he knew it to be the PVM. Shit.
How or why the Blademaster had a shard of the secondary virus Zan carried was beyond him, but it didn't matter. In his currently delusional state, fearing actual deletion and feeling more like a cub than a wolf, Zan fed the PVM down the intangible thread that him and Dien somehow shared. Rather than be a simply mental thing, what came forth was something entirely different. A wraith of black energy with green and viral hexagons littering its form screamed forth with a shrill cry from a gaping maw, obsidian teeth dripping tar and glinting milky, silver eyes pulsing with the same colored light. There were a few things Zan knew then, watching the almost shapeless mass collide into his friend. Only those with the PVM in their Patterns (Zan having previously believed himself to be the only one) could see the bizarre event unfold and, secondly, Zan was sure the selfish action would be something he'd regret. Who knew what would happen when more of a virus that was only supposed to function in combination with lycanthropy was pushed into Dien. How the kid had managed thus far and not told Zan, if he even knew, was a conundrum. That, or maybe the Heavy Blade didn't know the PVM as well as he had once considered.
As if suddenly pulled from a nightmare, Zan found himself facing Dien from a small distance and couldn't, for the life of him, remember why. Snapping from his conscious fever dream had robbed him of the chaotic events within. Tilting his head at the Blademaster, as if to ask why the boy looked so disheveled himself, Zan would have inquired further if it weren't for the Flashmail that found itself in his box. It was from Rayo and, of course, had some rather wise tips contained within on how to fight the Flare Hydra with some reasonable efficiency. Shaking himself from the feeling that he had committed some atrocious sin, Zan focused again on the task at hand. First he'd need to follow through with some of the tips the Wavemaster had given the group and then he'd need to whip up a little Flashmail of his own to the Freedom Fighters. The Hydra looked deadly, what with being a few stories tall and all and simply a neck and a head, but if they went about it the right way then they'd all pull out without too much damage dealt. Or so Zan wanted to think, anyway. A call of Ap Do surged him with speed just in time to evade the booming drop of a third level Vak-based Don spell. He had been on the fringes of it, luckily, but had a feeling he wouldn't be so lucky again. The lycanthrope needed to hurry through both his preparations and his Flashmail a bit quicker than expected.
Flashmail!
To: The Party
From: Zan
Subject: Tactics
As Rayo mentioned, we need a second person to keep the group in good health. Said person should have some sort of group-heal spell, but I don't think it's an absolute necessity. Next, I think we need a person or two on cover fire. Launch your strongest spells at any of the spells the Flare Hydra uses to soak up as much of the damage as you can. Ideally, this will prevent some of the attack from getting to any of us. As Rayo's attack demonstrated, this thing's defense is a lot higher than its kiddies. That noted, I'd suggest that we all keep to spells as long as we possibly can. We want to stay as distant from the Hydra as we're able to. I'm going to attempt to cool the molten rock on its skin and I believe that, if I'm successful, physical attacks won't be so useless against it.
Physical violence should only be resorted to if your SP is gone and, even then, Canti and Dien...you shouldn't bother. I don't mean to say that it'll be useless, but getting that close to the Hydra is near suicide for someone of Senna or even my level. My advice to stay away from the thing is simply that, advice.
All that said, stay sharp everyone. This won't be over anytime soon.
Flashmail! End
A breath and Zan continued the previous preparations, Ap Ruem and Ap Vakz placed on him through various swappings of different equipment. As Rayo had advised in his Flashmail, Zan spared another two castings of Ap Vakz on the lower leveled members of their party, Dien and Canti, before he stopped himself. To make any dent in the creature and cool it as planned, he'd need the last of his SP. Equipping the returned Shiva's Rings, he launched the MeRue Rom and hit the Flare Hydra with the exact effect he had been hoping for. Steam and sizzles filled the air for a moment before a clear sight showed the Hydra's molten skin cooled and solidified. Though he had no time to test whether or not physical attacks were now safer, he could only hope his theory would pan out. Next, and with the last of his SP, Zan let loose a second MeRue Rom and watched with some relative satisfaction as it let its pain be known with a loud cry and the loss of thirty of its hit points. It wasn't much, they still had a ways to go to ding it to death, but they were off to a fairly good start. There was a lot more to say about tactics then meets the eye. The more Zan used strategy instead of his 'claw shit to death' mode, the more it seemed to pay off.
Only time would really tell.
-------------------------------------------
OOC: A few things to note. Yes, I was told by Nighthand that, dimensionally, it is a few stories in height with its neck and its head. Also, anybody with Ap Ruem on them who uses a Rue spell is in for a small treat. A rom spell gets its base damage amplified by five and all the other ones (dons, zots, etc.) get one added to their base damage. If that confused you, which it did me at first, let me explain. A MeRue Rom (a level 2 Rom spell) amplified with Ap Ruem will do 15 (10+5)*2. Fifteen represents the 10 base of any rom spell plus the five of being an Ap Ruem'd Rue-based rom. If it were a level 2 rue-based zot spell, however, instead of being 1*2 it would be 2*2 for the additional 1 because the Rue was aided by Ap Ruem.
...Wow, looking at that, I explained that even worse than Nighthand had to me. Ah well. If you're still confused, ask him. XD
Flare Hydra Head C
440/500 HP
A second later and the charred and blatantly vacant corpse was tossed from its dunk and landed only a few feet from the lycanthrope. Zan's hand stopped half-way through tossing the Resurrect when, surprisingly, Dien rose in health from his death. Confusion displayed itself over the Heavy Blade's expression at first, but a glance over to the Wavemaster Rayo gave him an explanation. Oh, right. Zan had forgotten that, finally, they had someone in the Freedom Fighters with a damn Rim Maen spell. Giving the Blademaster near him an encouraging nod of his head, fearing that the constant deaths Dien were facing would diminish his spirit, Zan resumed his strategic contemplations. There were a number of ways to go about facing the beast, but only a select few of these options were moderately risky (rather than a down right gamble). He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, pondering his choices, when he realized the previous thought was a little too close to the truth. It really had seemed like forever, an eternity ebbing and flowing away from him...back to him. Zan would have been foolish to question the reasoning behind his time-based vertigo. The PVM was getting back at him for his struggled transformation and it was doing it with a vengeance. The humidity that had once soothed him was beginning to mount to almost unbearable levels, but for reasons other than the field he resided in at that moment.
The lycanthrope was saturated, internally, by the onsetting fever, the sickness of the secondary virus becoming now both digital and biological to a more surreal level. Zan felt blood begin to dribble into his lungs as vessels swelled and popped, his vision beginning to blur and glow in random splotches. A hacked cough, one that flowed him his vocal cords like a rumbling, titanic bark, brought a puddle of blood from his throat and to the ground at his feet. He couldn't help but sway then, the PVM beginning to best the oddly quiet Twilight that seemed passive about the decisive and molecular maneuver its brethren was making. No..not now... was all Zan could think, the sight of the Flare Hydra's third head lilting and doubling before his unstable pupils. If Zan, or any of them, stayed out of this fight for more than a temporary basis it could all very well go to Hell. Doing what he always did when these sorts of emergencies would arise, he pushed his senses into overdrive and tapped into his wolf's Instinct (a thing that was as helpful as it was dangerous) for an answer. What came to him was a sight of Dien a few feet away with...something hovering in front of him. Zan's vision was too hazy, too temporarily useless, to make it out, but it smelled so familiar...so God damn familiar. A light-bulb moment of realization and he knew it to be the PVM. Shit.
How or why the Blademaster had a shard of the secondary virus Zan carried was beyond him, but it didn't matter. In his currently delusional state, fearing actual deletion and feeling more like a cub than a wolf, Zan fed the PVM down the intangible thread that him and Dien somehow shared. Rather than be a simply mental thing, what came forth was something entirely different. A wraith of black energy with green and viral hexagons littering its form screamed forth with a shrill cry from a gaping maw, obsidian teeth dripping tar and glinting milky, silver eyes pulsing with the same colored light. There were a few things Zan knew then, watching the almost shapeless mass collide into his friend. Only those with the PVM in their Patterns (Zan having previously believed himself to be the only one) could see the bizarre event unfold and, secondly, Zan was sure the selfish action would be something he'd regret. Who knew what would happen when more of a virus that was only supposed to function in combination with lycanthropy was pushed into Dien. How the kid had managed thus far and not told Zan, if he even knew, was a conundrum. That, or maybe the Heavy Blade didn't know the PVM as well as he had once considered.
As if suddenly pulled from a nightmare, Zan found himself facing Dien from a small distance and couldn't, for the life of him, remember why. Snapping from his conscious fever dream had robbed him of the chaotic events within. Tilting his head at the Blademaster, as if to ask why the boy looked so disheveled himself, Zan would have inquired further if it weren't for the Flashmail that found itself in his box. It was from Rayo and, of course, had some rather wise tips contained within on how to fight the Flare Hydra with some reasonable efficiency. Shaking himself from the feeling that he had committed some atrocious sin, Zan focused again on the task at hand. First he'd need to follow through with some of the tips the Wavemaster had given the group and then he'd need to whip up a little Flashmail of his own to the Freedom Fighters. The Hydra looked deadly, what with being a few stories tall and all and simply a neck and a head, but if they went about it the right way then they'd all pull out without too much damage dealt. Or so Zan wanted to think, anyway. A call of Ap Do surged him with speed just in time to evade the booming drop of a third level Vak-based Don spell. He had been on the fringes of it, luckily, but had a feeling he wouldn't be so lucky again. The lycanthrope needed to hurry through both his preparations and his Flashmail a bit quicker than expected.
Flashmail!
To: The Party
From: Zan
Subject: Tactics
As Rayo mentioned, we need a second person to keep the group in good health. Said person should have some sort of group-heal spell, but I don't think it's an absolute necessity. Next, I think we need a person or two on cover fire. Launch your strongest spells at any of the spells the Flare Hydra uses to soak up as much of the damage as you can. Ideally, this will prevent some of the attack from getting to any of us. As Rayo's attack demonstrated, this thing's defense is a lot higher than its kiddies. That noted, I'd suggest that we all keep to spells as long as we possibly can. We want to stay as distant from the Hydra as we're able to. I'm going to attempt to cool the molten rock on its skin and I believe that, if I'm successful, physical attacks won't be so useless against it.
Physical violence should only be resorted to if your SP is gone and, even then, Canti and Dien...you shouldn't bother. I don't mean to say that it'll be useless, but getting that close to the Hydra is near suicide for someone of Senna or even my level. My advice to stay away from the thing is simply that, advice.
All that said, stay sharp everyone. This won't be over anytime soon.
Flashmail! End
A breath and Zan continued the previous preparations, Ap Ruem and Ap Vakz placed on him through various swappings of different equipment. As Rayo had advised in his Flashmail, Zan spared another two castings of Ap Vakz on the lower leveled members of their party, Dien and Canti, before he stopped himself. To make any dent in the creature and cool it as planned, he'd need the last of his SP. Equipping the returned Shiva's Rings, he launched the MeRue Rom and hit the Flare Hydra with the exact effect he had been hoping for. Steam and sizzles filled the air for a moment before a clear sight showed the Hydra's molten skin cooled and solidified. Though he had no time to test whether or not physical attacks were now safer, he could only hope his theory would pan out. Next, and with the last of his SP, Zan let loose a second MeRue Rom and watched with some relative satisfaction as it let its pain be known with a loud cry and the loss of thirty of its hit points. It wasn't much, they still had a ways to go to ding it to death, but they were off to a fairly good start. There was a lot more to say about tactics then meets the eye. The more Zan used strategy instead of his 'claw shit to death' mode, the more it seemed to pay off.
Only time would really tell.
-------------------------------------------
OOC: A few things to note. Yes, I was told by Nighthand that, dimensionally, it is a few stories in height with its neck and its head. Also, anybody with Ap Ruem on them who uses a Rue spell is in for a small treat. A rom spell gets its base damage amplified by five and all the other ones (dons, zots, etc.) get one added to their base damage. If that confused you, which it did me at first, let me explain. A MeRue Rom (a level 2 Rom spell) amplified with Ap Ruem will do 15 (10+5)*2. Fifteen represents the 10 base of any rom spell plus the five of being an Ap Ruem'd Rue-based rom. If it were a level 2 rue-based zot spell, however, instead of being 1*2 it would be 2*2 for the additional 1 because the Rue was aided by Ap Ruem.
...Wow, looking at that, I explained that even worse than Nighthand had to me. Ah well. If you're still confused, ask him. XD
Flare Hydra Head C
440/500 HP
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).
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).
Senna was about set to get back into battle full-on – these accursed things were getting to be a bigger and bigger pain – but having come once more to the wall, she realized she was not sure such would be possible. There seemed to be something wrong with the controls. Her character was reacting sluggishly, and was leaning against the wall in a sort of slump, her active defenses consisting of short-gripped swings of the spear. It seemed to be more or less enough though. The dragons were definitely getting thinned out, and the few that ventured this far were not so eager to kill her as they might once have been. They all seemed a little more wary now, as the initial plan of just flooding everyone and killing them out by sheer numbers seemed to have failed pretty miserably.
Low HP, she decided, or maybe a combination of low HP and SP? Something was affecting Senna, and as a result, she deemed it best to just keep an eye out, maybe cast a spell or two. There were another few portals out there open, so maybe she could…
As she considered this, she also noticed that through the thinning deluge of dragons, she could see a familiar face again. Canti had ended up back on this side of the room again. He was doing some traveling. He was commenting to himself, and Senna, her own movement sluggish, felt she should try to keep her wit moving at least. Besides – and this was odder yet – she was feeling a little talkative.
Canti seemed to be doing well for himself, and had figured out the entrance-closing tactic. Well, she’d wanted to thank whoever started that, and now she got her chance. It had been interesting that Canti thought he might know who Marionette was though. She made careful note of what he said, and of how he said it. Not a person to trifle with, she guessed. She also found herself mentally starting to refer to Marionette as "he" since that seemed to be the prevailing word in use. It was a conscious effort to make herself continue using the non-gender-specific term. She supposed the others might have been more careful too if they felt like they’d nearly gotten their party killed for a mistake in gender-identifying.
Damn penguins.
She did turn her eyes on the nearest of the remaining open portals – just inside range, thankfully – and cast an Ani Zot to close it up. The crunch of spell on stone was a balm of a sort. The rest and talk was also doing her some good. She still wasn’t getting any kills, but now they were almost totally thinned out and the work was nearly non-existent.
Canti’s description of the place they met this Suraisu – In a dark tower that stretched from heaven to hell... garnered a quick smile. Dark towers. They seemed to abound everywhere, from games to literature to life. They almost always seemed to be both the goal and the bane. What part of the mind was it that set up such a place as a goal, as a challenge to be faced before others? Dark towers… portents of change…
Back to the conversation with Canti, one thing they both agreed on was that this would not be the end. Perhaps it was fatalism, or the fact that the darkness room had featured a big nasty final creature so why not this one? Senna personally blamed baseball for the three strikes mentality. Then Canti was off to seal up the remaining entrance into the room, and Senna was left to her own devices once more.
The controls seemed to be better now – a passing bit of lag maybe, or some dust in the plug? Ah well, it was none of her concern. She started forward, picking her way carefully around the battered room, trying to avoid the lava pits and the shattered remains of the eggs from the first group, not to mention the rubble and cracks from the battle itself. Dien had taken care of the last of them with an impressive bit of work, and the rest of the party seemed to be regrouping as well. Nall and another of the group were looking over the statue that seemed to be the cause of all their problems. Every time someone went too close or paid it too much attention, it threw something nasty at them. Spiteful piece of rock.
This time was no exception. If the first group got the appellation dragonlings and the second were dragons, this one just got the name "mama" as per her and Canti’s conversation, and it was, of all the sights in this room, the most awesome. Three long, serpentine necks emerged from the lava, the magma falling in bits from the form, causing it to look like the creature was bleeding light. Each of the heads looked capable of holding several of the cows dragons were said to love roasting and eating in its mouth with room to spare, and she found herself thinking, incongruously, of another book. When Robert Asprin imagined the jail of Limbo, had he been seeing this creature?
As soon as its moment of pose and glory passed, the creature showed, without much hesitation, how worthy of awe it really was as it swooped down and in quick succession encapsulated Nall and the other character in two of the three heads and re-submerged with them, making the comparison to the Limbo jail complete.
This struck Senna cold, despite the heat of the room. She didn’t like Nall, but he had been the one to actually talk to her when she showed up in the middle of their battle prep, and for that she felt something owed. They all could have just left her to sit there in fear about what might happen if she tried to warp again, and even now she wasn’t sure what might have happened then.
Up until now, they’d been fighting things, attacking with spells and skills while the opponents did the same. But this? As she sped her approach a little more, she shivered at the thought. Was this one breaking the rules? Drag them under, one at a time, release them and let the lava do the rest? There was no sport in such a thing, no chance. If that was what it’s plan was she would… she would… she would do absolutely nothing, unless it was to execute her usual attacks in a more foolish manner which, she was coming to understand, was the way things went when she decided to get angry in battle.
Perhaps she wasn’t as cool and collected as she liked to think.
Her worry was allayed however when, a moment later, a Flashmail appeared from Nall explaining all about the monster. Again with that intimate knowledge (dare we say "inside information?" Hyuk hyuk) of the enemy. Well, it seemed there was no death there yet for the two prisoners.
Why? Not to knock it, but why would a creature keep two of its heads from attacking by containing members of the party, but not kill them? It seemed like it was handicapping itself more than their group with the move.
Of course, given the strategy of its predecessors, she wasn’t sure intelligence was a high attribute for this sort of creature.
The Wavemaster was again offering suggestions that made good sense, and Senna found herself meandering right, trying to stay in range of the others but far enough away that the monster’s attacks wouldn’t collect her with an attack on someone else, or vice versa. She also began sorting through her items. A few people were loosing various magical assaults on the one head that hadn’t nabbed a prisoner. Looked like fun, she thought. A Plasma Storm came into her hand.
A Flashmail interrupted any bit of planning the pawn might have done then. Se didn’t get the term "white mage" but it seemed to be explained well enough in the next sentence. Well, there was an idea. She could do that.
She came out of the Flashmail screen and pointed the still-rolled scroll at the monster, intoning its name in a voice barely above a whisper. The spell launched and, as might have been expected from the previous attacks, wreathed the creature’s face in a handful of ones. It was rather frustrating – not failure, but the next thing to it.
That casting was followed almost immediately by another Flashmail signal, this one a good deal longer. She found herself rather amazed at the typing speed of some people. She still had trouble sometimes getting the right letters without looking. Or course, if you were stuck in the game instead of actually typing, who was to say how fast it might be written? Oh well. To reply. She still had a chunk of SP, thanks to the Mage Soul, and the rest she’d taken had helped as well.
To: The Party
From: Senna
Subject: Re: Tactics
I’ll help healing
Not much, but she assumed it got the idea across as she pulled out a second Plasma Storm and checked to make sure she had at least one more Mage Soul (a trip to the store was definitely needed after this) and began moving again, trying to watch her footing and the monster and the party all at once and not really succeeding as well as she’d hoped. Best to present a moving target, however.
OOC:
Flare Hydra Head C
430/500 HP
Low HP, she decided, or maybe a combination of low HP and SP? Something was affecting Senna, and as a result, she deemed it best to just keep an eye out, maybe cast a spell or two. There were another few portals out there open, so maybe she could…
As she considered this, she also noticed that through the thinning deluge of dragons, she could see a familiar face again. Canti had ended up back on this side of the room again. He was doing some traveling. He was commenting to himself, and Senna, her own movement sluggish, felt she should try to keep her wit moving at least. Besides – and this was odder yet – she was feeling a little talkative.
Canti seemed to be doing well for himself, and had figured out the entrance-closing tactic. Well, she’d wanted to thank whoever started that, and now she got her chance. It had been interesting that Canti thought he might know who Marionette was though. She made careful note of what he said, and of how he said it. Not a person to trifle with, she guessed. She also found herself mentally starting to refer to Marionette as "he" since that seemed to be the prevailing word in use. It was a conscious effort to make herself continue using the non-gender-specific term. She supposed the others might have been more careful too if they felt like they’d nearly gotten their party killed for a mistake in gender-identifying.
Damn penguins.
She did turn her eyes on the nearest of the remaining open portals – just inside range, thankfully – and cast an Ani Zot to close it up. The crunch of spell on stone was a balm of a sort. The rest and talk was also doing her some good. She still wasn’t getting any kills, but now they were almost totally thinned out and the work was nearly non-existent.
Canti’s description of the place they met this Suraisu – In a dark tower that stretched from heaven to hell... garnered a quick smile. Dark towers. They seemed to abound everywhere, from games to literature to life. They almost always seemed to be both the goal and the bane. What part of the mind was it that set up such a place as a goal, as a challenge to be faced before others? Dark towers… portents of change…
Back to the conversation with Canti, one thing they both agreed on was that this would not be the end. Perhaps it was fatalism, or the fact that the darkness room had featured a big nasty final creature so why not this one? Senna personally blamed baseball for the three strikes mentality. Then Canti was off to seal up the remaining entrance into the room, and Senna was left to her own devices once more.
The controls seemed to be better now – a passing bit of lag maybe, or some dust in the plug? Ah well, it was none of her concern. She started forward, picking her way carefully around the battered room, trying to avoid the lava pits and the shattered remains of the eggs from the first group, not to mention the rubble and cracks from the battle itself. Dien had taken care of the last of them with an impressive bit of work, and the rest of the party seemed to be regrouping as well. Nall and another of the group were looking over the statue that seemed to be the cause of all their problems. Every time someone went too close or paid it too much attention, it threw something nasty at them. Spiteful piece of rock.
This time was no exception. If the first group got the appellation dragonlings and the second were dragons, this one just got the name "mama" as per her and Canti’s conversation, and it was, of all the sights in this room, the most awesome. Three long, serpentine necks emerged from the lava, the magma falling in bits from the form, causing it to look like the creature was bleeding light. Each of the heads looked capable of holding several of the cows dragons were said to love roasting and eating in its mouth with room to spare, and she found herself thinking, incongruously, of another book. When Robert Asprin imagined the jail of Limbo, had he been seeing this creature?
As soon as its moment of pose and glory passed, the creature showed, without much hesitation, how worthy of awe it really was as it swooped down and in quick succession encapsulated Nall and the other character in two of the three heads and re-submerged with them, making the comparison to the Limbo jail complete.
This struck Senna cold, despite the heat of the room. She didn’t like Nall, but he had been the one to actually talk to her when she showed up in the middle of their battle prep, and for that she felt something owed. They all could have just left her to sit there in fear about what might happen if she tried to warp again, and even now she wasn’t sure what might have happened then.
Up until now, they’d been fighting things, attacking with spells and skills while the opponents did the same. But this? As she sped her approach a little more, she shivered at the thought. Was this one breaking the rules? Drag them under, one at a time, release them and let the lava do the rest? There was no sport in such a thing, no chance. If that was what it’s plan was she would… she would… she would do absolutely nothing, unless it was to execute her usual attacks in a more foolish manner which, she was coming to understand, was the way things went when she decided to get angry in battle.
Perhaps she wasn’t as cool and collected as she liked to think.
Her worry was allayed however when, a moment later, a Flashmail appeared from Nall explaining all about the monster. Again with that intimate knowledge (dare we say "inside information?" Hyuk hyuk) of the enemy. Well, it seemed there was no death there yet for the two prisoners.
Why? Not to knock it, but why would a creature keep two of its heads from attacking by containing members of the party, but not kill them? It seemed like it was handicapping itself more than their group with the move.
Of course, given the strategy of its predecessors, she wasn’t sure intelligence was a high attribute for this sort of creature.
The Wavemaster was again offering suggestions that made good sense, and Senna found herself meandering right, trying to stay in range of the others but far enough away that the monster’s attacks wouldn’t collect her with an attack on someone else, or vice versa. She also began sorting through her items. A few people were loosing various magical assaults on the one head that hadn’t nabbed a prisoner. Looked like fun, she thought. A Plasma Storm came into her hand.
A Flashmail interrupted any bit of planning the pawn might have done then. Se didn’t get the term "white mage" but it seemed to be explained well enough in the next sentence. Well, there was an idea. She could do that.
She came out of the Flashmail screen and pointed the still-rolled scroll at the monster, intoning its name in a voice barely above a whisper. The spell launched and, as might have been expected from the previous attacks, wreathed the creature’s face in a handful of ones. It was rather frustrating – not failure, but the next thing to it.
That casting was followed almost immediately by another Flashmail signal, this one a good deal longer. She found herself rather amazed at the typing speed of some people. She still had trouble sometimes getting the right letters without looking. Or course, if you were stuck in the game instead of actually typing, who was to say how fast it might be written? Oh well. To reply. She still had a chunk of SP, thanks to the Mage Soul, and the rest she’d taken had helped as well.
To: The Party
From: Senna
Subject: Re: Tactics
I’ll help healing
Not much, but she assumed it got the idea across as she pulled out a second Plasma Storm and checked to make sure she had at least one more Mage Soul (a trip to the store was definitely needed after this) and began moving again, trying to watch her footing and the monster and the party all at once and not really succeeding as well as she’d hoped. Best to present a moving target, however.
OOC:
Flare Hydra Head C
430/500 HP
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
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)
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
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)