The regrets of darkness [Crystal Swords Battle]

[Hysteria]

The twilight mountains sat on the border of Alerar and marked the kingdoms of the dwarves. Few kingdoms were as infamous as that of the Deep Kings. Their mines were far from their kin, dug deep into the foundations of the mountains and grown prosperous by the precious stones and metals found there. No one quite knows when the Deep Kingdom was destroyed but estimates put it within the last two years. That was the last time the reclusive kingdom had contact with the outside world. Since then their halls have been silent and the flow of trade with the surface stopped.

Among the treasures of the Deep Kingdom was the mysterious crystal swords. There were five of note, the Dragon, the Rat, the Goat, the Monkey and the Ox. Whispers speak for seven more, bringing the total to twelve. With the destruction of the Deep Kingdom what happened to these swords of legend? They seemed to be lost at first; stolen by those that were responsible for the destruction of the Deep Kingdom or perhaps the looters that followed. Time showed that it held no secrets, and the swords started to emerge. The Deep Kings had feared the power of the swords; of the omens that came with their use. They sought to hide away what they didn’t understand and with that choice they thrust the responsibility onto others and were dissolved under the wave of horror that washed over them.

Now the swords were split, but a power was bringing them together. None who held the swords understood their power or their purpose. They would soon find out.

The darkness was broken by a soft blue glow. It stretched out from above, arching from gemstone to gemstone across the cavern’s roof. The word roof didn’t do the stone structure justice by any means. The crystalline sky stretched out like a million tiny stars. It was softer than the sun, allowing any to gaze upon its brilliance. As the sun warmed the skin the glowing crystals of the cavern warmed the mind.

The light emanating from the roof of the cavern was mirrored in the vast pool in the centre. The water was perfectly still and with it was the perfection of the reflection. The cavern was immense in its size and ringed by passages that arched off its oval shape. The gradient of the floor was slight around the edges, but within the dark waters it became more severe until it fell off into a dark abyss.

The crystals did not light up by some random chance. They lit up in response to magic, to a call of magic from their kin. A glowing yellow light appeared next to the water. It lasted only a second before it flashed out of existence and left a man standing in its place. The man was a knight, holding the yellow crystal sword, that of the Dog. Upon the man’s chest was blazoned the golden insignia of the Knights of the Dawn. The knight turned around, his blue eyes peering from out the eye slits of his visored helmet. He instinctively pulled his shield off his back and raised his sword.

“-two hundred gold, no more no-“ the words were cut off as an old man appeared out a blue glow holding the Pig blade. His hands were raised as if offering the sword to someone.

“What is going on?!” shouted the man, letting the sword fall from his hands and strike the ground. The crash echoed through the previously silent chamber with a resonating clang.

“Quiet you fool!” Snapped the Knight, “We are in an unholy place. Raise your sword and prepare to fight!”

The old man was small, hunched with age and a life of sitting at a shop stall. A pair of small glasses were resting at the end of his nose. The shop keeper raised two hands to his bald head and pressed against the few white wisps of hair above his ears.

The knight turned away from the man with a sneer. He wished for more competent fighters if he was going to survive whatever horrors the cavern offered. As if responding to his plea half a dozen balls of glowing energy burst into life around him.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Dust... Jake hated the dust.

The half elf sneezed mightily, covering his nose with a green sifan sleeve and holding up his free hand to stop the shopkeeper from talking. The old miser had made Jake pay him ten gold pieces just for a bloody assessment of the crystal sword he'd found! The dragon blade lay on the long oak counter, green steel with a blue hilt.

"I'm telling you, it's magic," Jake insisted, raising his black silk scarf up to cover his nose, "you really should dust more often."

"And I be telling you, this blade bears no enchantments." The shopkeeper snorted. Despite the middle aged man's attitude, he was a known expert in the field of magicks and hoodwinks.

"Look," Jake said, picking up the sword and tilting it so it caught the sunlight streaming through the window, "see how it glows? Isn't that something special?"

"No," the shopkeeper replied, "it's just reflecting the... wait, it is glowing!"

"Really? Great Trisgen's ghost!" Jake nearly dropped the sword in shock, but his hands felt stuck, worn fingers locked around the hilt. The green glow expanded, radiating a brilliance throughout the cluttered shop and enveloping Jake entirely. "I told you it was magic!" Jake called as he disappeared. The sensation was not unlike stepping through one of his portals. He felt whisked away by some unseen force, swept up in a power beyond his comprehension.

Was this some sort of test? He wondered if his old instructor Joshua Cronen had something in store for him. Or was it a trap? Jake had a knack for turning traps on their heads.

In a blaze of verdant light he re-materialized, sword held aloft at the ready to face any threat. The crystal cavern looked down on him like a giant sparkling eye, at times curious, others angry. Jake plucked his cloth cap from his head and ran his fingers through dirty blond locks as he looked around the massive cave. Through the scarf that still covered half of his face he could smell the mustiness... he hated must almost as much as dust.

What in Haide's ninth nether is going on here? He replaced his cap and scratched an itchy leg through brown sifan pants. The cased bow on his back and quiver of arrows on his hip swayed with the motion. His leather boots whispered on the rocky floor as he turned about and saw a knight, and an old man. Each had a crystal sword in their gasp.

This is a calling. The crystal swords are being assembled for some great purpose! A smile swam over Jake's face, fading as he remembered that "great" depended on one's perspective. This could equally be an act of some great evil, or a blip on the expanse between.

"Greetings sir!" The half elf called to the man in the suit of armor, "I am Jake Narmolanya, Demon Hunter Extraordinaire. Where do you hail from?"

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

There was no creature alive in Whitevale that was awake at this early time in the morning. Only a hint of dawn, a single shred of light, appeared in the inky sky. Dead leaves, dropped by their millions from the neighboring forest, formed more of the town's floor than the sodden earth it stood on. The bitter odours of burning lantern oil wafted.

As the breeze of the storm made Shinsou's coat flap in the wind like the sail of a ship, his target emerged ahead of him. The Telgradian had glided over the road once he spotted him, like a viper hunting down a mouse. He was light footed despite his weight and rarely allowed a single twig to break underneath his soaked leather boots.

The assassin had missed his chance to kill Osiris earlier; a foolish error.

In a single smooth stroke, the sharp edge of a crimson crystal-forged blade sliced through the hundreds of falling droplets and stopped mere millimetres away from the clean, wet skin of the insurrectionist's throat. Shinsou’s brown, dishevelled hair tumbled about the wind in heavy, saturated strands. Despite the force of the gust and the beating of the rain, his golden eyes barely blinked; they remained locked on to his intended vanquisher.

“You are perhaps wondering why you were able to simply walk into Whitevale unchallenged?” Shinsou asked, his voice steely and cold. “I am here. Rest assured, there is no better security than that.”

It took Shinsou a few moments for it to dawn upon him he wasn't dreaming about the sharp point digging subtly into his waist. As he tried to right his balance, he glanced down to his right to see the blade of a menacing looking dagger pressing against his white coat, expertly placed and ready to strike. Thin, wiry forks of lighting bolted across the early morning sky, accompanied by a crack of thunder that ripped through the cold air.

“It seems we are at an impasse…”

Shinsou knew that they weren’t at an impasse at all, and cursed his luck. In the time it would take for him to draw the razor sharp edge of The Goat across the assailant's throat, he knew he would already be dead, or dying. He slowly lowered the crimson blade, turning slightly away to alleviate the hostilities and allowed his boots to press into the soaked floor. As he pivoted carefully, Shinsou felt a pulse of energy eminate from the sword that he had claimed in Radasanths intestines a week prior. The pounding rain and the awfully loud claps of thunder accompanying each glowing streak of electricity only drowned out low hum of the blade's previously untapped magic.

Before the Telgradian could figure out what was happening, a blinding light shot from the tip of the sword and enveloped him. Hexagonal discs of white energy converged around him before spinning relentlessly and shattering into a million fragments of silver.

As the world reconvened in front of his eyes, Shinsou could feel the cold sensation of moist rock pressed against his back. Even through his thick coat a chill travelled up his spine as his eyes stared up into a glittering abyss. There were millions of them; tiny stones that shimmered like the stars. It felt like an age before the Telgradian finally moved, shooting a glance to his left.

What the fuck?

There, a knight had already risen from his perch and leaned pensively by the cave wall in silence. He was studying the expression of the Telgradian and another man besides them as they came to terms with their new surroundings. The first thing that Shinsou noticed were the weapons each of them carried; all of them differently coloured crystal blades much like -

Yes, The Goat...

He looked down at the blade in his hand, the cutting edge of the sword still illuminated and emitting an odd, warm throb. For so long it had done nothing; serving more as an ornamental treasure than a weapon, but now something had called to it. Called to him.

"Who summoned me here and why?" The Telgradian demanded to know, "What do you want with me?".

[Philomel]

Concordia. The Fortress of the Gilded Lily.

The moon hung as a bright orb in a silky sky, pinpricked by faint stars. Clouds as dark as a raven's beak and thin as a butterfly wing were littered carelessly across it. It was a quiet perfection in a night of peace and quiet, with no sound but a soft wind playing amongst the temperate trees. Leaves, dim and dull in the afterlight, whispered words of rustling nature to one another and carried it around the gentle stream, up the sharply ascending, natural cliff path, and in through the gates of the aged but sturdy fortress.

A long history had this place, and many deaths. The forest knew of it, endured it, claimed its past as its own - and honoured the mistress dearly.

Standing on the very edge of the battlements, hands curving around the contours of the stones beneath them, she gazed upwards at the heavens. Her hair, flowing tame as it ever did, was a deep crimson - though one could not not tell in the gloom. Once it had been vivid purple, then a dark violet, and now it was the colour of the embers of a settling fire, and it framed her pale face. Gloriously she watched the moon, the stars and the steadily drifting clouds, and listened to the wind with tapered ears. Marvellous was she, praised was she, as she was the matriarch of this castle, this night, and this peace. It was hers.

Beside her, tangled somewhat by paw and brush tail was a fox. He too stared up at the sky with vivid golden eyes, tall pointed ears flickering, waiting for a change in the wind's tempo and tune. For he too could hear the melody in the murmurs of the leaves, and the sighs in the breeze - together they were one. Together they stood, faun and fox, with two white blades strapped naked, without sheaths, to her side. They were a duet, a duality that could be and seemed a whole.

Then suddenly, and without precedence, the wind picked up. What was a soft draft became a great gust, and the leaves no longer muttered - they howled. They bellowed out a song, a mighty riotous reverberation, screaming out their noises to the atmosphere. It rippled up the clifface, catching hair and fur and flesh, shoving a faceful of gale onto the unexpecting pair. Staggering, back they stepped, fox yelping for his tail catching under her hoof and for a moment there was chaos. There was panic. Eyes could no longer look up and worship the night sky, feet could no longer hold on. Down they crouched, down to the ground, holding arms over chest only convered by a drakescale half corset and the blanket of a mysteriously soft cloak.

Veridian, for that was the fox's name, clung onto the faun's leg with his paws and forelegs. Philomel, for that was the faun's name, hid her eyes into the realm of her elbow pit. The wind became a biting fury, nipping at their exposed flesh as all they could do was try to hide. It caused them to lose sight altogether for loss of their eyes - and so it was that neither soul saw one of the white blades begin to pulse.

Begin to shimmer with light.

Begin to brightly shine.

And then it was. The tempest and the zephyr were gone. To nothing. No whisper, no leaves rustling, no blighting. As if it was dead, and died away in a spirit of carelessness. It took a moment for the duo to realise, it took a moment for them to come to terms with this strange situation. Slowly faces were lifted from arms and forelegs to look up - up to a new scene, a new world and a new place. A scene of milky blue stones glowing high above. A world of a still pool with no wind's presence. A new place with other ... people. Other beings, six or more of them, felt through the very earth - no, rock - upon which fox and faun stood.

Quickly, abruptly, Philomel rose to her feet. Eyes staring frantically around, she took in the cavern, the crystals, the people. Hooves on the ground she sensed out, fantastically, magically, the other figures there, one as confident as a king, the rest as uncertain as she was. Some held glowing blades, others held bows, but each was as cautious and as unknowing as she. As she reached out mentally to Veridian, who was also uncurling from his crouched position to take in this all, she tensed for any sign of danger. Her body smoothly lowered into a fighting stance, her hand moved back, past her shimmering cloak to one of the blades, as she turned. Eyes looking to the person closest to her right.

And then she blinked as she saw him. Recognised him. It meant at least they had a friend here, in this pit of danger. Perhaps pit of glory. Where she would not die, she was determined.

Her hand grasped the hilt of the steadily de-glowing blade of the Rabbit, as her lips moved. Drawing out the sword blindly, she never saw it light, and so never presumed to even think of its speciality. Instead she asked a question, and it was thus:

"Shinsou? What the f*ck is going on?"

[Hysteria]

The silence of the cavern had become an echoing chorus. The Knight shifted in his armour, visibly uncomfortable with the cavalier attitude of the others that joined from glowing balls of light. Some of the number that appeared failed to manifest as the wielders of the blades jettisoned them before the magic could take effect. Those that came included the Knight, the shopkeeper, the half-elf and a man. Questions flowed between the group, some assumed danger, others smattered with confusion.

“I am Sir Soleil if it would slow your words and quicken your blade!” snapped the Knight, “We cannot be caught in idle ch-“

“Aaaaaahhgg-“

The shopkeeper fell to his knees with his hands clutching his chest as blood oozed from between his fingers. Beside the man was a small creature. Its slimy surface caught the light of the crystals and all could see its form for a brief second. It was no bigger than a child, baring only a passing likeness in form. Its top half was gelatinous, with four thick, short tentacles hanging down like a macabre dress. Under its main form were two short stumpy legs. The tentacles whipped forwards towards the shopkeeper. Dagger length spikes emerged from the tip of each one, slicing through the old man’s hands and chest with ease.

The next few moments passed slowly. The creature’s large eyes swivelled between those that had been summoned and the man before it. It seemed to settle on the old man and darted forwards towards the gaping hole in the man’s chest. Its body seemed to constrict, sliding into the wound as screams of pain echoed through the cavern.

“Sun’s brilliance!”

The soft blue glow of the crystals was momentarily eclipsed by bright yellow flames. From the tip of Soleil’s blade exploded a ball of fire that encased the shopkeeper and creature. Soleil darted forwards at a surprising speed given the bulk of his armour. His arm came around and his crystal sword sliced through smouldering keeper and creature alike. The moment the man died the Pig blade glowed, and then was gone.

The surface of the underground lake erupted. A dozen of the small tentacle creatures burst forth, darting across the ground towards the sword wielders. As the tiny twisting masses moved forwards other things started to emerge from the water. These were larger, hulking masses. Some still bore armour, and gripped weapons, while others were barely encased in rotting rags. Bodies, stripped of any semblance of life. They all bore wounds of their death in the form of large gaping holes in their chests. From there the strange creatures within peered outwards and drove their mounts forwards. They had been dwarven warriors once but now their bodies had been hijacked and stretched into creatures larger than a man and much, much stronger. It was only their slow pace that the wielders could hope to gain the advantage.

[Mari]

BAM

Her arrival lacked grace. Her buttocks slammed hard against the cavern floor, before she too feel forward with a groan. The crystal sword of the snake clattered behind her, faintly glowing with a crimson light. "What the shit?" Amari asked as she pushed back strands of damp scarlet hair.

One minute she was sitting on her Masters bed, pulling on socks and discussing their future plans in regards to Salvar, the next - she was here. Amari wasn't prepared for this, of course, how does one prepare for being jettisoned away from something suddenly and without warning? Her hair was a tangled damp mess, she wore a black cotton shirt with her enchanted leather jacket, no pants, white cotton underwear, and a mismatched pair of crew cut socks, white and grey respectively.

She turned her gaze to a familiar figure before her. "J-Jake?" Amari pushed herself off the ground and picked up the sword before approaching the blonde haired half elf. "Jake!" She gripped his shoulder and spun him around. "What the fuck is going on here?" She didn't give him time to answer, nor react to her appearance. "Did you do this? With your portal thing? Master is going to be furious! Send me back, I don't have time to....to..." She trailed off.

"Shinsou? What the f*ck is going on?"

Amari's face instantly softened at the all too familiar voice screeching the all too familiar name. Her lips fell into a sombre line and pursed as she repeated his name as a whisper that Jake would strain to hear. Amari forced her shattered crimson eyes shut and took a few deep breaths to quell the sudden thump of her heart. The last time she had seen him, they had left on amicable terms, but there were still so many unanswered questions and his presence still caused a whirlwind of emotion within her. It took all of Amari's willpower to not turn toward him, what would he say if he saw her now? The cracks that adorned her skin had intensified, her fingers and hands looked as though they had been dipped into the inky blackness of a starless night sky. Whatever was happening to her, to her soul, was clearly getting worse. There were questions, and Amari longed for answers, but they had to wait. Amari opened her eyes to see Jake's look of concern.

"Jake, I'm sorry." She reached out and pushed his fringe out of his alert eyes. "Listen, I-"

Her words were interrupted as quite literally, all hell broke loose.

Amari bit her lower lip wishing she were more prepared, or at least fully clothed. One of the strange tentacled beasts jumped at her, its chubby legs surprisingly had jettisoned it into the air, level with her chest. Amari blinked as it raised its tentacles up at her, each dotted with a sharp extension. She reacted in turn, as a set of four tentacles emerged from her back. Brimming with an angry crimson light that matched the fading glow of her crystal sword. One of them whipped out and cleaved the monster clean in two, Amari faltered as she bore the brunt of the residual pain from her ability. The beast fell to the floor with a sickening sch-lick sound followed by the gurgle of the slime as it bubbled around the creature.

Amari wouldn't be able to continue to use her soul tentacles like this, not for long. She glanced down at the sword in her hand and gripped its hilt tighter. She'd have to learn to use the damn thing properly, and quick. Feelings be damned, survival came first.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

What the fuck is going on?

One by one, friends, enemies and acquaintances seemingly dropped out of the void and into reality. First, the faun Philomel Van der Aart, who was as surprised to find Shinsou here as he was to be there. Before he could muster a response to her question, a threat emerged from nowhere. This monstrosity came in the form of some ethereal, translucent being, no more than four foot tall, with what appeared to be tentacles lashing out every which way. It tried to dispatch the man addressed as Sir Soleil with a brutal nonchalance attributable to only creatures made for mass destruction. It seemed an awful thing to do, given the circumstances, but the Telgradian used the moment of Soleil’s wounding to step back and circle around, buying a few seconds to compose himself.

As the chaos unfolded before him, Shinsou could feel his stomach pulsating as if it were being scorched with whorls of flame. It wasn’t long before the shrouded cavern chambers spread before him were overlaid with a thick kaleidoscope of energies; signatures of the warriors that had gathered there. There was one, though, that was all too familiar; one that felt like an oozing vat of corruption was seeping into his very being. The aura of the one he now knew as Amari flared to his right, darker and more intense than Philomel’s. She, too, held a sword of crystal. As Amari seethed in icy shadow, Shinsou couldn’t help but gaze upon her cracked form. Once such a frightened and helpless girl, the soul he peered into now was that of an abyssal ghost; one that burned with energy he could no longer fathom. Her physical appearance seemed almost demonic now and as the Telgradian wondered how long it would be before her humanity stripped away completely, he noticed that more of the fiends were rising.

The surface of the underground lake stirred to life as a dozen of the vile creatures broke like the crest of a wave and crashed towards the sword wielders. As they broke off into groups, each selecting their targets, three heavily armoured beasts stormed towards Shinsou. Their green, club like feet pounded the cavern stone, making it rumble in the Telgradian’s stead. Rusted armour hung piecemeal from their rotting limbs and hunkered chests, with clubs formed from clusters of human skulls menacingly swaying by their sides.

As they approached, seemingly in a rush to charge into a melee, Shinsou began to feel their power. Did those undead monstrosities have souls? They reminded him of Pode’s abominations; the same that blighted Raiaera. This was a dangerous situation. This wasn’t the Citadel. There were no monks of Ai’Brone that could resurrect the recently dead or injured here.

I’m taking no chances with you. Time to acquaint you with oblivion...

“Philomel,” he addressed the Faun at last, who stood just to his right, pivoting on her hooves to find a guard. “Watch my flank. I’ll deal with these three and then I’ll try and freeze the lake to stop any more of the bastards coming through.”

The warrior he stepped forth, two echoing footfalls disguising one of his indiscernible incantations in the Telgradian foreign tongue. His right hand cut to his side, palm horizontal, as a void of icy dark matter opened up behind him. A chaotic clatter of crackling spears echoed throughout the cold cavern as all fifteen of their frozen points aimed straight and true at the three lumbering hulks ahead of him and the lake behind. Each spear would freeze an area of five foot, and with ten spears shared between three of the beasts that left only twenty five square feet of lake he could seal.

He’d have to get closer and finish the job by touch. With no time to spare, in the midst of the cacophony, he ground out a single word through grit teeth.

“Shatter.”

A storm of ice tore through the darkness, dazzling and deadly, striking the three armoured undead almost as soon as he had conjured it. The spell wrought havoc on the beasts, hitting them all with tremendous force in their chests, piercing through the skin and coming to rest somewhere in his chest cavity. They were barrelled by the impact, the sheer force making all three land hard on their backs before coming to a skidding, bloody halt upon the unforgiving floor. The five remaining spears now blazed towards the lake’s surface, aiming to freeze a sizeable portion of it and at least temporarily stem the flow of the small army that rose from its depths.

All the while, the Goat shone, un-noticed, at the Telgradian’s side.

[Storm Veritas]

Never one to shy from a fashionably late entrance, Storm Veritas arrived with a certain aplomb befitting a man who had not the first earthly idea what was going on. From a drunken, late morning slumber he had climbed over the expensive companion who had made his fragmented memory much sweeter, feeling her soft skin rub against his as she cooed with gentle satisfaction. It was sex in the air, and whiskey on the breath – they were familiar issues. It was the hum from his bedside that stirred him, that silly ass blade with the head of an angry mouse. It must have been sliding, he decided, as he grabbed the hilt of the buzzing blade.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…

He was enveloped in white and then black, a spinning tempest of mute madness that ended with an abrupt halt on a wet, stone floor. He had fallen from roughly bed height, and was unharmed, albeit exasperated. Clothed only in a pair of loosely drawn sweatpants (and fortunate to be wearing that), the athletic wizard popped to his bare feet, eyes darting about the room.

Mother of the f*cking gods…

It was bedlam. Diminutive squid-creatures were spinning about a cavernous amphitheater away from him, towards a ring of other adventurers. A familiar looking elf-boy that he couldn’t quite place. The absolute unmistakable visage of Philomel van der Aart, who had incidentally saved him from death at the hands of Madison Freebird while coincidentally trying to kill him. A lithe, lethal looking woman. Shinsou Vaan Osiris, perhaps his closest living ally.

There was no time for niceties as hell was befalling the lot of them.

There could be no coincidence that they all wielded the same form of blade that Storm held, as one of the little cephalopodic abominations turned its amorphous shape in his direction. He sized up the fluidic little awful, smiling at the vulnerability that it’s water borne frame offered him.

“You brought the wrong bull to the china shop, you ugly little shit!”

With a flash of white and blue, the scantily clad electromancer fired a thick stream of blue-crackling energy at the squid thing, cackling with satisfaction at the explosion of navy and black goo. It was spectacular, although the splatter of its insides stunk to high hell. Bright teeth shining with pride, he called across the hall once again.

“Easy pickins’, bitches! That all you got for me!?”

From the depths of a now-bubbling pool, two bone-armored bowling balls with fleshy arms and legs emerged, waddling towards him with large and pointy weapons that seemed altogether terrible. They were silent, save for the thump-thump of their rapidly approaching feet.

Pivoting, Storm held the Rat in the direction of the marching dwarf-things as he slowly began to shuffle in the general direction of objectively friendlier faces. Philomel probably wouldn’t kill him before they got rid of these little atrocities.

[Philomel]

"Philomel ... watch my flank ..."

In usual circumstances the Matriarch faun of the Gilded Lily did not entirely favour being ordered. Usually it was her bestowing at least advice, if not demands to her women sailors, warriors, spies and whores (often all words to describe one person). But the situation was what it was. No sooner had she reached out of her crouch than these tenatcle slime beasts had come into their midst. Thankfully Philomel had already drawn her sword, and it was only now that she noticed it was indeed the new blade - the one found when she and her beloveds had slain the mighty rabbit of pulsating power back within the Red Forest. White in hue like her own main mythril sword, this one was dully pulsating with an eerie kind of light and seemed to match that within the other hands of warriors surrounding them.

A large body of black sludge and the poor semblance of what used to be a man threw itself at her. Whilst its long serpent-like arms headed towards Shinsou who had moved between her and the lake, its human possessed body struggled over at her. Its mouth opened, making a hole as large as the one in the centre of its chest, and let out an ugly, guttral grunting howl. Swiftly, as one of the tentacles whipped by her right shoulder, the natural instincts moved into place. For a part Philomel lost all concentration to properly sense what was around them, and instead focused in on the fight.

Swinging up the pale - well Rabbit sword seemed appropriate as a description and a name - she cut through that horrible apendage as if easily through butter. The creature's vocal tone changed to one of horror as it experienced pain, and then went higher as the faun sliced through the one attacking to her left side, near at her elbow. More of these haunted things, made of some form of dark magic and underworld disgust it could be presumed, spiralled out from the main body and aimed themselves at Shinsou, but she was ready. Darting left and right and pulling out her main normal weapon - her mythril unnamed blade (perhaps Unnamed was actually as good a name as any) - she dual-wielded her way to protecting the flank of the Telgradian, her old friend and trusted ally. He had mentioned something about ice and the lake, and those two things seemed to work well together in her head, and thus her automatic attention went to accidentally doing as he had said. As she danced around the tentacles and the wild, flailing arms of the embarressingly beastly body before her, she did not notice a second being slip under her legs.

Splat.

Just as she cleaved human head from inhuman body, Philomel felt something ooze over her hoof. Looking down she saw the same black pus-like substance that had been in the recent (now deceased) enemy spilling out from a black jelly monster. It had been walking, or rather, pulling, itself along by the same type of tentacles towards Shinsou and his back, except for now. Now it had been rightly torn asunder by two mucky paws and a muzzle covered with slime.

"Oh my dear," she said softly, "I quite forgot about you." She smiled gently down at Veridian, who grinned up with mad, golden eyes. The fox-form earth spirit seemed as passionate as her about ridding the world of these strange things. Dark magics were not hers or his favourites. "I am sorry."

Veridian shrugged a little with his small shoulders, and then broke eye contact to yelp suddenly. It brought Philomel back to reality, just in time to strike yet another of the lumbering tentacle-possessed creatures down. As she did so Veridian seemed to find it an appropriate time to begin a transformation. As Philomel got herself locked in combat with a sludgy jelly beast and one of the possessed bodies at the same time, his body rippled with power. Though he felt a chill wind coming from one side - hopefully the beginnings of the Shinsou man's icy powers freezing the lake, and thus stopping these monsters from rearing further ugly heads - his body blossomed. Rapidly expanding into a form nearly four times the size it had been before, and his fur growing thicker, stronger, and more flickering crimson, Veridian became what is called sometimes a dire-fox, but with a brilliant set of jaws and a coat brimming with flame.

Lookin around briefly his eyes caught glimpses of others in the room. He saw the red-haired girl who had refused to be liberated from Lye Ulroke's hold, a man who Philomel and he had seen in war before, and a knight the colour of the dawn. Realising then that they were with close friends, and therefore had hope, the firey fox grinned. Lunging, he joined his beloved faun and her allies to begin the rendering of what was left of the beastly tentacle army.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Amari's appearance shocked Jake to the roots of his dirty blond mop. Does she ever go about fully garbed? On balance, the half elf estimated that the Salvic lass had been at least partially naked on most of the occasions he encountered her. On this occasion, fortunately, there was plenty else to distract the youth's green eyes from the redhead's milky thighs.

Lightning and ice rent the air like a strange storm called to combat the tentacled creatures, and a hybrid goat-woman brought battle to the monsters with two swords. A trio of the smaller squid-like creatures oozed toward Jake and Amari, followed by three of the shambling wights, their rusted armor creaking ominously.

Jake bounded forward, a determined gleam in his eye. He forced his nerves to settle, rising above the excitement of the crystal sword summoning and seeing Amari again. His focus became razor sharp, and he set himself to the task of slaying the first threat; the little squid-fellas.

His first strike cleaved through the bodies of the lead two tentacle-beasts, a fine two handed chop with ample follow through. His return backhand blow beheaded the last of the trio.

"Come on then, you great brainless baddies!" Jake shouted as he moved to engage the wights. Drawing nearer, he realized they were not wights at all, rather corpses being somehow manipulated by the tentacle-beings within. He could see their gelatinous shapes through the gaping holes in their host-bodies' chests. Two of the would-be wights bore heavy swords and armor, while the last one wielded only the rags on its back and the tentacles protruding from ghastly gashes. Jake danced in between them, lithe body evading each strike cast at him. He bobbed and weaved backwards into a corner of the cavern, drawing the once-dwarfs away from Amari.

With his back against a stone wall Jake fought valiantly. He fended off their blows with clever movement and angling of his blade. He landed several strikes against their rusted armor and lopped off a protruding tentacle. As the last monster surged forward he raised a hand and flooded it with a gout of flame, setting fire to the ancient rags it wore. The thing did not seem bothered in the slightest, and it bulled him backwards against the cavern's wall.

Jake curled into a ball to protect his head and rolled away from the beast's bulk, finding himself again trapped by the trio of terrors. A portal opened up in the ground beneath him and swallowed the half elf. He tumbled out of its twin back near Amari and the rest of the gathering warriors. Jake stood up and dusted himself off, flicking slime from the blade of his sword.

"Right," he commented to no one in particular, "those big ones are bloody hard to kill."