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.


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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."

[Hysteria]

There amidst the glowing stones of magnificent glory above and the darkness of the void below, a pungent odour filled the air. It was one of darkness and rot, sampled by the spilling blood of long dead dwarves. Many of the horrors facing the crystal warriors had been felled one way or another. Some sliced by the animal blades, others crushed by magics of differing types. One particular magic, that of ice cast by Shinsou struck the chests of the lumbering horrors. The gelatinous forms of the creatures within the hulking bodies froze solid, causing the beasts to fall forwards and shatter their insides across the caverns stone floor. The remaining ice shards travelled past the abominations and struck the surface of the lake.

The ice spread out from the points of contact as more of the lumbering horrors emerged from the water’s dark depths. The beasts struggled against the ice to no avail, instead they were encased, partially or fully by the magic. With part of the lake frozen and the numbers of both small and large horrors dwindling it seemed that those that held the crystal blades were at an advantage. This was not so.

The ice heaved upwards as some ungodly power pushed against it. There was a pause, although the stoppage was not heeded by the horrors already out of the lake that continued to lumber after their prey. Crrrrrraaaaaaaakkk the ice sheet burst into the air as a giant tentacle, more than several humans in length, pushed it high into the air. The ice balanced upon the coiled tip of the dark appendage, the glow of the crystals above clearly illuminating the five giant horrors caught within. The tentacle flicked the sheet of ice like it was little more than a pebble towards the crystal warriors. The projectile promised to release the five horrors tombed within once it struck the cavern floor, or indeed those carrying the crystal swords.

Sir Soleil planted his feet and lifted his sword towards the ice projectile. His frame and form radiated confidence.

“Sun’s Brilliance!” he shouted as he had done only minutes before. The blade failed to answer its wielder's call, instead a row of teeth-like spikes burst out from across the length of the blade. The magic the knight had tried to summon had failed, usurped by another that was not his own.

With the ice hurtling towards the warriors the giant tentacle slipped back into the dark waters. With the ice removed a dozen lumbering horrors burst from the water and dragged their twisted forms of tentacles, flesh and bone forward. Long dead, their ghastly forms driven forward by the large peering eyes appearing from within the wounds that had allowed them original access to the dwarves’ bodies. The numbers of dwarves that had disappeared from the halls of the Deep Kingdom numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands.

[Storm Veritas]

Just as Storm had strafed his way closer to the others, the eruption of a great, demonic looking tentacle froze the two dwarven looking terribles that were marching at the wizard, ice spreading through the room in a wave as a heavy stream of condensation marked a deep, labored breath from the adventurer. Despite the crushing cold, the nearly nude Veritas continued to sweat, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

”Sun’s Brilliance!” The words of a nearby soldier were coupled with him raising a sword to the heavens, as if hoping for it to grow larger or turn him into a homoerotic, loin-clothed brute. Predictably, almost nothing happened; a few spikes popped out of the trail edge of the blade.

F*cking idiot. Thinks he’s summoning the strength of the stars, and turns his sword into a steak knife. Fan-f*cking-tastic. Still, that silly horse’s ass must know something about this sword that dragged me here, if he received the song lyrics and all. Have to keep this dumb shit alive.

The giant noodly appendage came slamming down at the absurd knight, as he raised a sword in defiant stupidity. With near blinding speed, Storm sprinted at the knight, slamming his shoulder just above the hip from the side and sending him careening away upon the floor, likely falsely angered. The electromancer deftly rolled across his shoulderblades as he turned, popping lightly to his feet in a low crouch and raising the sword before him again.

Aren’t you supposed to say something? Maybe Shin can yell some Eastern language at the sword and unlock mine while he’s at it.

“Shin, I know you have to have the cheat codes for these goddamned things. What do we do? Emperor Hitsohoogi, something like that?”

A satisfied sneer danced across the face of the wizard as he continued to move away from the hole where the great tentacle had retreated to. He found himself peeking up at undead-filled stalactites that hung menacingly from the ceiling. They were an ideal option, a weapon the monster could drop upon them. They were also metal-armored soldiers, making them ideal.

“Drop those frozen f*cks into the water to hit that thing! It was too big to go far…” the suggestion Storm offered was less than brilliant, but would likely prove effective.

He eyed one of the ice-encased monsters, harnessing an electromagnetic field which hinged tight to the heavy steel that wrapped about the diminutive little deathbringer. The ice cracked almost immediately, sending the partially-frozen warrior towards the center of the room, splashing violently into the center of the hole.

About him, the magician peeked at other dwarves crashing down and arising from the slick, dark floor, white and lifeless eyes gazing towards infinity as they waged war on a mish-mosh of powerful, miscellaneous adventurers.

[Mari]

Amari glanced back to Shinsou, concerned with where he was. She caught his gaze, broken and hurt as his eyes travelled down her cracked form. Amari mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' to him, but doubted he caught her gesture. There was too much shit going on. Although her relationship with Philomel was strained at best Amari was thankful to have such a seasoned and competent warrior at Shinsou's call, envious feelings aside. The man was doing well for himself. It was bittersweet in a way, Amari wondered if it was best if she left well enough alone.

The woman didn't have much time to play upon nostalgia's harpsichord; a flurry of ice erupted from the direction of the Telgradian. It drove into the squishy mandibles of the beasts and covered the lake in a crystalline sapphire sheen. It gave the fighters a brief respite. Amari took this time to turn to Jake who was fighting valiantly a few feet away from her, he had been backed into a corner but before Amari could take a step to come to his aid he had rolled across the grimy floor and away from the onslaught of rotting carcasses. Amari offered Jake a wry grin. "Take my back, and I'll take yours?" She asked. He glanced at her, opened his mouth as if to say something, shook his head and offered her a smile. "Sure thing." He beamed.

Amari turned away from Jake, just in time to have two of the smaller beasts fly at her; both torn in two, falling to the ground in burning bulbous clumps as her energy tentacles cleaved clean through them. "Gross...." She muttered as they bubbled on the ground. Amari gripped her sword, the Sword given to her by 'She' the snake and bought it high over her head, driving it into the skull of another squelching monster. The sword hissed and shone brighter, as Amari pulled it from the creature she noticed the sword dripping a thick red substance. It hissed as it hit the ice strewn floor, burning through to create a small hole in the ground. "What the...acid?"

She glanced up as she heard a violent scream from an older man, who appeared to have arrived in much the same fashion of herself. Under dressed and under prepared. He had pushed the man with a brilliantly flashing sword out the way of a large oncoming ....

"SHIT MY ALMIGHTY FUCK!" Amari cried out, as a flurry of shocked words all rolled out at once, and came out of her mouth a jumbled mess of insults. Amari stepped forward, mainly to do something about the damn ice that was hurtling toward her.

Funny thing about melted ice and socks.

They don't mix.

As Amari took her step forward she slipped, her bare bottom fell against the ice and she went hurtling forward, she slid several metres before catching hold of the first physical thing her hand caught onto. The hem of a pair of pants, which just so happened to fall right down, since, yanno, gravity.

Amari may have been holding the crystal sword of a snake but as she looked up and she came face to face with a snake of another variety. A trouser snake. Amari sighed, and the man was sure to feel her breath against his skin she were that close.

"Ugh." She exclaimed as she pushed herself up off the ice and turned away from him, apologies would come later. Her face was flushed with embarrassment and adrenaline. Her sword still dripped venomous acid and it was just that, which had managed to cut through the armour of a stumbling decomposing dwarf. Amari had driven it upward in a diagonal arch, it cleaved his torso in two. The corpse fell to the floor, dead....again.

From the corpse there was a twitch, and a shrill chattering scream as another of the gelatinous beasts emerged, spiked tentacles aimed for Storms torso.

Again, the angry red tentacles from Amari's back had struck, causing the beast to fall to the floor in a burning steaming pile of slop. She glanced over at the stranger with peppered grey hair and steel blue eyes. "Don't suppose you can pull fire magic out your ass too eh?" She asked as the icicle was about to crush them.

[Jake Narmolanya]

"Amari!" Jake called in alarm as the woman slid away, pantsing the lightning mage as she passed. As usual, the half elf had forgotten to use the Salvic girl's new name... she'd begun calling herself Red. It had something to do with the horrific torture she'd endured at the hands of the man she now knew as master. Jake didn't know much about the situation, but he did know he wanted to get his friend away from the pale man.

Of course, that could only happen if a flying iceberg didn't crush them both.

Jake leaped forward and slid on the ice, posed like a statue to keep his balance as he zipped up in front of the wizard and the woman who almost had a full set of clothing between them. He drew on his connection to the Eternal Tap, summoning the largest portal he'd ever created. His sword slashed the air, and the portal appeared, wide enough to devour the careening chunk of ice. Jake stepped in front of the portal and pressed his palm to the glowing surface to activate it, and then dove out of the way as the iceberg careened through. A rough crystalline edge struck the half elf's leg as he escaped, and he spun to the stony floor with a cry.

The icy meteor continued through the portal and out of its twin, smashing down among the three reanimated dwarfs Jake had left in the corner of the cavern. The half elf sagged from the amount of energy the large portal had required, but even so fought his way to his feet, only to cry out again and fall back down. His left foot was twisted around badly. He fought the urge to vomit as he saw the angle of it.

As the wave of adrenaline Jake had been surfing finally crashed ashore, he felt a cold sweat soak his fine sifan clothing. While he made his living hunting demons and venturing into such dismal places as the great cavern, ordinarily he at least knew where he was. The lack of knowledge of his geographical position would make it more difficult to portal out, if he could portal out. The chamber still resonated with the power that had pulled the crystal swords.

"Now would be a grand time to get my back," Jake gasped at Amari as he dragged himself toward her, still clutching the dragon blade in one hand. The sea of tentacled enemies swarmed in his wake, their razor-sharp appendages thirsting for his blood.

[Philomel]

As the battle raged around them, and got effortlessly worse, Philomel knew it was time.

Left and right, to and fro, below and above she slashed, weaving a web of bright white lines as she cut down tentacle from aged dwarf corpse. Two blades had she in hands, the one from the might Rabbit, and the other, her own Nameless. Beside her, the size of a stag and more powerful, fought Veridian, his brilliant red fur wrapped in flames as he tore out the throats and burnt the bodies of their enemies. Behind them, at the edge of the lake, Shinsou still remained, somewhat brave in his summoning of such a great icy theatricality, but otherwise doomed as he became the closest one to the behemoth tentacle rising from the deep.

Luckily the young man, known to Philomel just now as 'half-elf kid' had summoned a portal to whisk what remained of Shinsou's ice lake away to another realm. What other one, she did not care, but it occurred to her what hilarities might enshew were it to end up in the desert kingdom Fallien. Magical ice surely wouldn't melt that easy.

Fortunate was it that magical fire, born from one-tenths of the soul of a fire-whisp that happened to reside in Veridian her beloved, could. With fire and enkindled breath he made for a great encased creature that landed beside them, and went directly for the face. As a second one slammed into rock, however, Philomel took it upon herself to overthrow him. She snarled, heavily, and leant down into a crouch as the great ugly mass of black flesh and terrible tentatcles turned its ugly face towards Shinsou van Osiris ...

Oh no you don't, you bitch.

Summoning up all her willpower, Philomel made the fastest transformation she had done in a long time. As her duet swords raised high into the air, her body began to shiver - and then grow. Muscles blossomed across her chest, legs, arms - really everywhere - and her head began to disturbingly fatten. Her battle corset expanded at the engeniously sewn sections, which deliberately shifted and let her form become something other, coming to rest at the same size but in convenient positions. Horns spiralled further, their bases which attached themselves to her skull windening as her skull itself, and her whole face enlong, growing a muzzle, eyes with slanted pupils, a mouth with a deadly bite ...

Horns slammed headlong into the back of the new assailant, the horns of a mighty goat-headed half-beast. Somewhat like a minotaur in stamina and size, but born of caprine rather than bovine, Philomel van der Goat attacked with vigour and fury and vehemence. Aside to her the dire fox on fire stabbed claws of embers into his own enemies hand, while the faun become Enraging stabbed. Now much larger. Now much mightier. Now more deadly, wielding two swords that were thorns made to kill.

Oh yes, she saw Amari dancing with the 'half-elf kid'. Yes, she spied Storm, her championship enemy and her ally through Shinsou. But for now they did not matter. Now they were not the necessity to worry over. Now was the time for killing, for survival, for bleating a deathly anger. And bleat the goat-human did, fur entirely covering her body, slamming a headbutt into the revived corpse before her.

[Josette]

The young woman studied her reflection in the small mirror that perched atop the table. Crowsfeet adorned the corner of each eye, earned by the scowl that never seemed to leave her. Below her eyes hung heavy black bags, easily mistaken for smudged makeup, were Josette one to paint her face. The markings, she admitted begrudgingly, were an unfortunate side-effect of sleep deprivation, as was the faint redness that circled each navy-blue iris. Exhaustion made it impossible to even pass as presentable, which was perhaps more reason to remain locked inside her room for another day.

Even as it flickered through her mind, Josette gave a snort at the thought. She was sulking, that much she would also have to admit to herself. But knights did not sulk - she did not sulk. Her gaze sharpened, as if she were eyeing an enemy rather than her own reflection; in that moment, they might have been one in the same. "Buck up," she commanded, self loathing mingling with the self-pity that already took up residence in the pit of her stomach. When she did not immediately do so, did not immediately find the strength, she whirled from the mirror with a sound of disgust. She had seen so much, killed so many, and never been reduced to such a pathetic state.

Josette had assumed that time would heal this wound, just as it had the others. Weeks had passed since the slaughter of Torrine, a tragedy in which she had played a lead role. It had not been her choice, she had reassured herself in the dead of night, when the guilt had gripped tightest at her heart. She had not, could not, have known. Yet her sword had dripped with their blood, turned to rubies in the firelight that blazed around her. Her sword had drawn their last breath, their last scream. Her sword had killed, just as surely as their magic had. True, she had stopped when her conscious had finally matched pace, but by then, she had ended a dozen lives. Did her remorse vindicate her? Did it bring back the people I killed?

Her jaw worked as she paced the small room. In addition to the table, which held the mirror and a copper wash bin, the room also featured a twin bed. It's worn springs creaked with each inhale of breath, and the mattress sported a peculiar brown stain that was shaped a bit like the island of Corone, but finer accommodations did not seem to fit the mood anyhow.

Without quite knowing what she was doing, Josette drew her sword from its place on the bed, and clutched it to her chest. Her eyes closed, and she filled her lungs with the musty air of the old inn. She wished it was the cool, crisp air of the Salvarian countryside. She missed Nicolette, though damned if she would ever tell the girl as much. But she mostly missed the freedom of their three days together. Things had been simpler then. It had been easier to forget.

When she opened her eyes once more, the room simply... was not. There had been no burst of magic, no flash of light (though perhaps she might have missed it, her eyes closed as they were). What... was... was a cavern. She could sense panic, in the split second before silence was shattered and the sound of battle accompanied the scene. Men and women alike, in various forms of undress, slashed at a smaller enemy of undeterminable origin. Before she could wonder what had happened, she found herself thinking, at least I wore my mercenary leathers. And perhaps that spoke to her mental state.

It was a sudden warming sensation that brought her foggy mind into focus. Her gaze dropped to the horse sword, which she still cradled against herself. It shimmered gold and black, the colors of Arianne, her protector, and the keeper of the weapon. Previous keeper, she thought, drawing it with a hiss that was lost to the din thundering within the stone walls. It was hers now, and regardless of how she had arrived, the situation called for a blade. Answers would wait, and until then, Josette fell back on the one thing she had always known - the fight.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Shinsou’s expression morphed from stoic nonchalance to a burning frown as a giant tentacle effortlessly hurled the ice chunk at the gathered adventurers. As the slab of frozen lake sailed away into a portal of the half-elf's creation, distracting him, Osiris failed to notice one of the numerous threats turn their attentions to him. It was fortunate that the usually fiercely independant Philomel beside him had heeded his earlier suggestion and stayed true to his flank. The ground immediate to the vicinity quaked briefly but violently as the beautiful servant of Drys began her metamorphasis into a fearful, monstrous form that Shinsou recognised all too well. With a ghastly bleat, the faun slammed into the offender with such force that the cavernous maw they fought in almost shook with the raw force.

With the immediate threat neutralised, the Telgradian nodded his gratitude before a realization hit Osiris. Storm Veritas had been yelling at him.

When the fuck did HE get here?

His half naked ally, with which he commanded the Brotherhood, asked him a question about how to 'activate' the swords. Stood there, confronted by this conundrum, Shinsou wondered why he of all people would know.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Shinsou queried as he stepped back from the chaos and circled to his left, getting closer to Veritas whilst avoiding the unsavoury attentions of the next wave of the oncoming hoard, "These aren't Telgradian weapons!"

It was then, out of the corner of his eye, one of the undead approached with a battle hammer in hand. Normally such a heavy weapon would have taken time to lift and swing, let alone throw, but somehow the beast summoned a strength that made a mockery of this and sent it thundering through the air at the Telgradian. It flew with such a blistering pace that Osiris was almost caught off guard, stumbling as its metal head grazed his face and just sailed past a chestnut strand of his hair.

This is getting really old. No way do you live. No way.

Darkness coalesced around Shinsou as the void left by Enpera Kurohitsugi suddenly melted away and oozed back into existence again as fifteen hard scales of dark matter; the Phalanx form of his dark magic. Controlled by Shinsou’s will alone, the fifteen plate-sized scales interlocked to form an unbroken chain which wrapped itself around the Telgradian’s body as it awaited commands.

Osiris’s golden eyes flickered to the offending creature, a girthy geletineous mass with club like arms and a melted face, for a heartbeat.

Shinsou knew what to do with this one. Springing into motion before fat mass of decaying green flesh could get to him and the threat of close-quarter combat was made irreversible, he let his Phalanx chain slip off and commanded it to wrap around the legs of the giant homunculous. With a wave of his hand, the Telgradian used the strong, Dehlar-resistant chain to effortlessly snap the legs of the beast, causing a gush of sickly mud coloured ooze to seep from the rotting stumps. With a pained groan, the undead fell face first to the floor and stopped responding as maggots loosed from the morbid wound.

"Right," The Telgradian said to Storm as the electromancer finished raining icicle hell down upon the creature hiding in the lake, motioning towards the vast body of water, "Let's get our shit together. Water conducts electricity; try frying the fucker-"

His voice trailed off as Osiris spied Amari from across the room. Her blade was seeping acid onto the floor and glowing, clearly activated in some way.

Amari...

Dangerously still amongst the chaos and once again distracted, he pondered the half dressed redhead for a moment as she engaged in a comedy of errors that saw her slip and expose Veritas's not inconsiderable merchandise, before righting herself and tending to the half-elf. Then, a momentary flashback occured. Earlier, did she mouth something to him? Shinsou wasn't sure what it was, if it was anything at all, but her acknowledgment of him all of a sudden brought memories flooding back to him. They were memories of their first meeting together, back when the poor girl was the captive of some brutal slavers in Salvar; slavers that Osiris had been hunting for Am'aleh. She was so weak and helpless then; a lost soul, without purpose, without strength. She had bled in his arms, this fragile thing, with a vulnerability that begged respite.

There was nothing vulnerable about her now. Months of mistreatment by Ulroch and the Crimson Hand had seen to that; breaking her spirit and body so many times that the resultant conditioning had corrupted her soul. Yet, even through all of that, the Telgradian knew that the hurt and neglect by his own Brotherhood had done far more damage to her. Despite this, she still cared about him. Somehow, someway, Amari had not forgotten him or his ideals.

He had not forgotten, either. Her dim view of his alleged "playboy" behaviour had been wholly unfounded and perpetuated by a liar. Shinsou knew that; he understood it.

It was then a large, lumbering beast of the horde stepped forth from the lake and stared towards Amari and the half elf. Covered in a thick layer of silt and slime, the creature snorted a cloud of vapour and roared menacingly, stomping a foot on the ground thrice. Thick globules of viscous green filth dripped from the rubbery fat of its being as it sprang into a surprisingly quick charge; a trident held point first towards the pair.

Shit, she hasn't seen it!

It was too late to warn her, so Shinsou did the only thing he could think to do. The chain of dark matter unwound from his body and snapped through the air. Sparks of dazzling and disorienting electricity violently manifested, disappearing almost as soon as the chain left his body. The wave of hazy dark matter wrapped about the trunk sized neck of the vicious beast, forcing it immediately to its knees as its visage demeaned a surprised and horrified expression. The chain pulled taut and lashed at both the body of the creature and the cavern floor, casting a purple flash on collision that lit up the recessed alcoves of the cave and illuminated the blood that spurted in fountains from its nicked carotid artery and gaping gashes across its torso.

As the corpse of the beast shambled to the floor only feet away from the pair, Osiris stood defiant, hand outstretched.

"Come with me. You too half-elf. Our best chance of staying alive is by staying together and forming up with the others. If you trust me, we'll live. We'll work the rest out when we get home."

If we get home...

[Storm Veritas]

No matter how proud a man may be of his own circumstances, there is only one reaction every man upon Althanas could possibly have to his waistband finding it’s way about his ankles. Having traveled to the far ends of the plane, the wizened warrior rapidly reached for an introspective and thoughtful consideration.

Oh, shit! My f*cking dick is out!!

In spite of the imminent danger and omnipresent risk of death, the oncoming hoard took a back seat to pulling his trousers back up. He hopped quickly, sliding away from the felled redhead and yanked violently at his pants, hoisting them and re-tying the string of the pants as he scratched his leg in the process with the lead edge of the Rat blade which had finally issued some form of injury to someone.

Useless piece of shit sword. Nearly cost me everything to get my hands on you, and now it’s causing me nothing but trouble. This blasted piece of hot metal garbage is getting melted down for scrap when I get home…

He glanced over at Amari, whom had quickly recovered her position and appeared to be ready to attack. He spoke with the eloquence befitting the address of such a magnificent heroine.

“Get back, sweetheart, you can hop back on after we’re through.”

Shinsou spoke to him quickly, his suggestion of blasting the water with electricity not lost on the lightning mage. The experienced adventurer worried that the near saturation of the room would put at risk people who were trying to help him… not die, however it appeared the approaching monstrosities which crawled up from the water stood to lose far more.

“Showtime, baby! Everyone get dry!” He spoke with a defiance as one of the giant lumbering brutes marched forward at him. With the rodent sword tucked taut against his right arm, Storm Veritas produced a tremendous blast of crackling blue light that exploded outwards. The first of the brutes, wrapped neatly in his metal cage, was all but obliterated by the blast, turning and twisting in a fast-charred heap as he crashed to the ground with disregard for his once-well being.

In a trail of near directionless horror, hefty rivulets of white-sizzling energy rocketed outward at nearby enemies, taking special root in the water nearby.

[Hysteria]

The ice sheet smashed against the stone floor of the cavern some distance from the warriors. Ice chunks skidded across the ground as it crumbled and the encased creatures were freed. The cycle continued. Horrors, both large and small emerged from the underground lake and lumbered or ran at the warriors. The warriors in turn struck back and cut both limb and life. There would be no stalemate; eventually the power of the warriors would fail, or the driving force that spurned on the horrors would falter. The answer came as a shock.

Lightning arched through the animated bodies and into the lake. A sound came from the depts. A slow grumbling at first, lifted quickly to a maddening thunder. Horrors started to pour out of the lake. Large and small, they appeared by the dozens but they did not move towards the warriors. Instead they moved away from the lake. The large cavern boasted the crystals above, the lake below, and the tunnels that lined the edges. The horrors made for the tunnels.

The sound stopped. All that was left was the slapping of wet feet on stone as the tentacle creatures fled. Then it appeared. It walked from the lake with purpose and poise. No poor representation of a dead creature, nor that of a stunted horror. The creature was four times the size of a man with long dark limbs and a muscular frame. It looked like a human and elf in that respect, but in another far different. Starting from the top of the creature’s head and flowing down it’s back were dozens of tentacles. They resembled a mane of hair, if thicker and move alien. The other difference was the large, singular eye that sat in the middle of his forehead. In his hand he held a dark crystal blade, a cousin of those held by the warriors, it was larger and black as night.

To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then cast a shadow from the darkness.

The creature whispered the words and slashed the night blade in front of it. Darkness cut out from the blade in a large crescent, slicing through the horrors that fled from the creature. Armour, bone and tentacle fell away as nothing. The slice continued and threatened to tear the warriors apart.


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Sir Soleil lifted his sword to his face and looked at the teeth protruding from the blade. It was hard to guess his expression from beneath his visored helmet, but he could have been perplexed. He lifted it towards the coming swarm of horrors and the teeth started to vibrate. As the first fleeing horror passed he thrust the blade into the creature. The sword erupted with movement as the teeth span down the edge of the blade and cut through the creature. The knight howled with glee as he moved onto the next creature. Caught in his blood thirsty rage he didn’t notice the dark creature’s whisper, nor the black arc approaching.

[Mari]

Storm was quick to alleviate his problem, not that Amari felt it was a problem to fight completely naked. Especially with a form such as his. Still, a pair of slacks was better than no protection at all. "Ha!" Amari called out toward Storm, genuinely amused at his comment. It was funnily enough, akin to a breath of fresh air amidst the heat of battle. "Don't tempt me, electric man."

Amari turned her attention back to Jake, his ankle was contorted, and it was swollen. "This'll hurt. but I don't want any complaints." Amari quickly said as she dropped to her knees and pressed her hands, which ignited in a brilliant golden glow to his injured ankle and without further warning she twisted his ankle back the right way. She flinched feeling the same pain as he, but unlike Jake, Amari had a high tolerance for pain. Her trembling hands danced over his leg, alleviating him of most the bruising and swelling. It'd still hurt, and at the end of the day he'd need a splint but it'd do for now. They were in the heat of battle, there was no time for healing minor injury now.

Before Amari knew what was going on it appeared that Shinsou had saved both her and Jake from an oncoming attack. He reached out to her, offering her aid.

Those words tugged at Amari, she wanted nothing more than to grasp his outstretched hand. To feel the warmth of his skin against hers but she was afraid. Afraid of the feelings she was trying to push down bubbling back up to the surface, of the ramifications of her actions, of her safety, and his.

And what of his words? 'We'll sort the rest out when we get home' Was he serious? What did he think he was doing saying such frivolous words. He may have a home, but Amari sure as hell didn't, and it certainly wasn't with him. Ulroke wanted Shinsou dead. Amari was certain the assassin wanted Amari to be the one to take his life, but she hadn't the strength to do that. Besides, this was in the heat of battle. Surely Lye would understand it'd be insane to attempt any sort of attack here?

Amari furrowed her brows and took a deep breath, finally reaching out to clasp his hand. The warmth that radiated from his grip was overwhelming, as it always was with the man, any sort of touch or action from him always managed to knock her off her feet. Shinsou pulled Amari into his grasp and for a brief moment she swore he tightened his hold around her before shifting away. Amari turned her attention away from the man and toward the battle. She had to steel herself from him. It was for the best.

Storm most certainly did a number on the creatures, they writhed and twitched, "Damn..." Amari breathed, "Remind me to learn some sort of elemental shit."

The woman was vagually aware of another entrant, a woman, and of a rampaging Philomel. Something she noted to stay the fuck away from. Amari had been headbutted by the faun before, and that was sans transformation.

It seemed as though their battle was nearing an end, the creatures scrambled from the lake, away from the fight but something didn't feel right.

Then, as if right on cuea giant emerged from the lake, its humanoid form dripping with pungent water and slime. One would almost mistake it as such, if it weren't for the dozens of tentacles that protruded from its head and torso. Amari stepped away from Shinsou and Jake, as her own tentacles burst forth from her back, crackling with an angry red energy. She still ha a few shots left before she'd feel fatigued. She gripped the sword which still dripped in her hand. "Hey, Shinsou, any chance of propelling me toward that thing's eye?" Amari asked.

To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then cast a shadow from the darkness.

A slice of black energy erupted from its blade, destroying any chance Amari had at trying to gain leverage. "Shit." She swore. The crescent was coming at her just above waist height and she assumed she'd either be able to duck or jump over it. Soleil was ahead of them, laughing maniacally as he slashed his sword about. She was too far off to do anything about it. "Fuck him, he can go ahead and die." Amari turned toward Jake and shoved him to the floor, followed by Shinsou. Before ducking under the attack herself.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake retched and vomited as Amari straightened his broken leg. The half elf's slender shoulders shook and his eyes watered, but he kept a loose grip on the dragon blade just the same. He clambered to his feet gingerly as the redhead finished her healing magic. The leg still hurt - by Haide's fires, it hurt - but he could move on it, to a certain extent. He stumbled up to the same plateau as Amari and the thin man, Shinsou, whose name had been shouted several times.

The warriors gained a temporary respite as the first wave of foes fled, but then the cause of the enemies' fear loomed out of the lake. The tentacled giant slashed the air and sent its shadow energy arcing outward. Jake found himself shoved to the floor, going over awkwardly on his ankle but still managing to tumble into a roll and find his feet. He swayed as he stood, digging the tip of the dragon blade into the ground to stave of a spell of dizziness. He could feel the scalding pincers of panic and shock scraping at his muscles for purchase.

"Breathe," Jake reminded himself aloud, lifting his sword into a low guard, "breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe..."

The ethereal head of a great mustachioed serpent appeared above Jake. Long, the dragon, opened her fanged maw and expelled wave upon wave of long, thin wooden spikes. They peppered the tentacle-giant's body, having absolutely no tangible impact on the monster. But the ability did not come without merit. Jake gazed up at the image of the dragon's head wide-eyed, watching it fade to nothingness. He'd felt a surge of energy from the sword when he spoke the word "Breathe."

Could it be that simple?

"Try talking to your swords!" He called weakly to the other warriors, still somewhat breathless from the shooting pain in his leg. "That sounds silly," he said, mostly to himself. He looked up as the sword-wielding tentacle-monster bore down on them. Several wooden spikes were superficially stuck in the beast's flesh.

I hope the others have some stronger powers, he thought. Chunks of wood would do little good against the oncoming menace. Lake slime dripped from the strange creature's many appendages, and it brought a rank smell with it. Jake had an inkling to set it (and the wooden stakes embedded in it) on fire, but he waited to see if the lightning mage might strike, knowing that the lingering moisture would make the beast more vulnerable. Instead he crouched with sword upraised, ready to attack or defend as the beast drew nearer.

[Philomel]

The earth is beneath me. The earth is above me. The earth is beside me. The earth is within me. The earth is upon me. The earth is around me. I am the earth, and it is me.

I am the earth.

Whumph.

Heavy horns met heavy head as she slammed her way through the last of the close-by threatening corpse-monsters. As the reverberations of her powerful horns' strike travelled down the length of the consumed body, her two hands - large, ape-like appendages the size of dinner plates - with a white sword in each swept up from behind her, around and high into the air. Holding them aloft in the shape of a cathedral arch, the part-beast that was Philomel van der Aart bellowed out a frightening bleat before crashing them down.

Down to the creature now smaller than her, down with the strength of five ordinary men. Down with vehemence, anger and vice, down to the dulled animal, made barely concious by her headbutt.

Her two blades, one mythril and the other the same shining crystal that all others had, sliced to the neck before her. Smoothly they decapitated head from shoulders before even one tentacle could raise a limb to try to aggravate against her. Dead, once more, the black and green corpse collapsed to the cavern floor and the enraged half-goat snorted her approval.

"Good. Done," said she in the only language her throat could make. Pure goatish.

The bleats rang out across the echoing chamber, joining with numerous other cries. As she did a voice came to her head and muttered, Philomel. This is barely over. Turning, her livid beastly eyes caught those hot golden ones of the flaming dire-fox beside her, standing proudly over his last own victim as it burnt to a second grave with flickering crimson embers.

His muzzle pointed over to the lake, to where they had last seen Shinsou. Now he had danced and spun his bloody way over to the red-haired Amari and Stormy pair, calling them to his side and calling them to come with. Together now, the three of them - and somewhere, else, the half-elf boy (saying something odd about talking to their shining swords) .... and another new girl - were easing their way back away from a new larger foe, far greater than any before. Possibly twenty feet or more in size its head almost brushed the lowest of the blue crystals adorning the ceiling. Rounding against it were the newly formed pack of warriors, plus a golden knight with gleaming sword, and the great lumbering beast seemed to be intent on catching them out. Attacks were being made, but none that were downing it yet, and it occurred then to the gost-head that was Philomel that the best action right now was just that - action.

She roared, as best as her massive goat-head could, and flailed her arms baring her swords. As she did she leapt high into the air, and landed, smack, alongside the warriors. Right next to Shinsou whose wide eyes only shared a hint of the awe that they all felt in this battle of battles. When she landed, her massive right hoof struck the ground, and with it came a jarring and a shuddering of the earth. Things moved, rocks parted for her, stones shook as a thin but steadily widening crack appeared from under her hoof and was sent striking to where the behemoth stood. An earthquake, weak at its beginning, but able to topple mountains at its apex, hurried towards the giant, splitting the earth in a narrow vertical canyon.

[Storm Veritas]

”Wake up, you ugly whore!

“Emperor Hirohito!

“Hocus F*cking Pocus!”

This f*cking sword, gods…

Inspired by the heroic efforts of the young man, Storm had tried talking with the rat-headed sword. His magic was feeling drained, his body tired, and the giant abomination swung dark energy in dramatic, terrible waves at them all. Frankly, he’d try anything at this point, as the cluster of what some could call heroes stuck together in an effort to fend off the monster. The focus was now this one cyclopean awful, whose arc of terror would have cleaved the wizard in half if not for a desperate tumble over a naked shoulder. Arising again in his now wet pants and soaked skin, Veritas did his best to ignore the content of the viscous, black water that stuck to him.

Shinsou and Amari worked feverishly, diving away from the oncoming assault and taking cover. Elsewhere the friendlier behemoth Philomel sending a rippling split of earth at the giant.

Glaring down with a frustrated anger at his sword, Storm spat at the metal, which now glowed a soft blue, although offered no other productivity aside from mile illumination.

Fanstastic. Put my ass on the line in exchange for a glorified lightbulb. Terrific tradeoff.

Looking backwards at the brave young man who had suffered a horrific leg injury, Storm considered a response to the suggestion of magic words. He was torn; the youth was bold and right-minded, but also was now playing with the grown ups. To survive this long, Storm surmised the young one must be pretty tough, and the experienced old bastard of a man steeled himself to speak.

“Good idea, kid, but words ain’t doing shit with the hunk of metal.”

Of course. What else!?

The metallic nature of the blade was the only asset the master of electricity presumed it offered, but it wasn’t slight. The ability to fire the entire sword as a ballista’s arrow would be useful, and there would only be one target. Releasing his grip on the blade, Storm produced a small field of electromagnetism, which seized the sword before it could crash to the ground below.

“The eye! Take it’s f*cking eye out, see how that goes!”

The sword hovered before the magician, who waited for the earthquake to affect the massive, looming atrocity. It hummed in place, ready to fire out as a great luminescent dart. He walked backwards towards Shinsou, Amari, and Jake, who had tumbled to evade the energy blast of the great monster. As soon as the great hulking beast stumbled, he would receive an eyeful of Rat.


…or so went the plan

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

I'm not hating that plan; it's not total shit.

Motivated by the electromancer's plan, Shinsou had decided he had reached the end of his tether with both the undying hoard and the Goat; which up until now had been as effective as a chocolate fireguard in a blast furnace. With the rat-headed sword hovering at the end of Storm's fingertips, the Telgradian was ready to offer up the crimson sword as a makeshift missle in that very same electromagnetic field.

At the end of the day, it would at least give the blade some use.

Unlike Storm, his magic wasn't draining him. The behemoth from the lake launched a crest of lightning quick dark energy right at him, cleaving chunks of rock from the cavernous maw and carving huge gashes in the stone ahead, but the Phalanx form of his Enpera Kurohitsugi was quicker. The chain that he had created snapped apart and reformed into a hexagonal barrier right before Shinsou's eyes. A tsunami of black smashed into the magical shield, forcing Shinsou back a number of paces before the sickly black crescent shattered like glass and cascaded in all directions; parried into various uninhabited parts of the cavern.

The gathering of adventurers that had formed on Shinsou's mark now stuck together in an effort to hold their ground against this apocalyptic beast. It was then, as the Telgradian grew closer in proximity to his charges, that the Goat suddenly jolted to life. As if startled from a deep sleep, the blade hissed suddenly and glowed with the hue of tempered steel. Five flaming skulls tore through some sort of unfathomable cosmic continuum and manifested right before the point of the sword.

Shinsou could feel the heat radiating from them, searing the flesh on his high cheekbones. Each of the skulls suddenly turned in unison to face their quarry; the terrible cyclops, and screamed like banshees.

"Fucking hell!" The Telgradian exclaimed as he covered his ears to protect his eardrums from rupturing, "I didn't say a damned thing. I have no idea how it works; emotions? Magic? Fuck it, who cares?"

Shinsou noted that as the blade swayed, the skulls swayed with it. They seemed to be following it right up until they locked their collective gaze onto their enemy. This odd characteristic of the blade was the only thing it seemed capable of doing for now and curiosity was getting the better of the Telgradian. What sort of destructive power did these flaming abominations under his control contain?

“I'm going with your plan. Get the eye."

The skulls hovered momentarily before tearing forward towards the great monster's unprotected eye. Shinsou hoped that Storm's Rat was there to deliver the follow-up and, if they struck true, turn the tide of the fight.

Hopefully, Shinsou would get through the day without being killed by anyone or anything.

[Josette]

In the split second before the disk of ice struck the hard-packed earth, Josette turned from it. The arm that clutched her sword arched in protection over her eyes, and the woman hunched to protect her more vulnerable body parts. There was distance between herself and the threat, but she could only dream of what was enclosed in that ice, if it were truly ice at all.

A dream. Was that what this was? Only a moment before, she had been locked inside her cheap room in an Ettermire inn. Now, she was surrounded by death, destruction, and demons unlike any she had laid her eyes upon. Or perhaps these were the demons of some god-forsaken hell that she had been banished to. Were the knights who fought beside her as damned as she? She heard the shattering of ice behind her, not entirely unlike the sharp splintering of thick glass. And when it struck her, peppering her breeches and thin tunic, it cut like glass as well. Josette winced, clutching her sword in one hand, and its sheath in the other, so tightly that her knuckles lost their color. Definitely not a dream.

When the raven-haired woman finally straightened, and surveyed her surroundings, she grew as rigid as if she too had been trapped in ice. The water sloshed madly, as if a great storm raged atop it, but the chaotic waves that tumbled were far too random in their choreography to be a result of strong winds. Rather, the murky lake rocked as if handfuls of children were leaping into it. Or, in this case, hoards of devilish creatures spilling out.

"Lords and ladies," the knight breathed, in reference to no lord or lady in particular. It was a phrase her father had used often, and she nearly bit off her own tongue when she heard herself say it. She might have, had her attention not been consumed entirely by the emergence of a true horror. It dwarfed the battle raging below it, like an enormous form leaning over a chess board, considering its next move. And she was a mere pawn, unable to do anything of true value. All she had accomplished since her arrival was to end a handful of the tiny creatures; as the newest player took center stage, that feat felt woefully inadequate. In fact, as the woman sent a panicked glance around, she watched the head of a great dragon take shape over another soldier's head. "Lords and ladies," she hissed again. What was she even doing there?

As if to demonstrate her incompetence, the woman collapsed, pressing herself flush to the cool dirt as the slice of black shadow slipped silently toward, then over, her prone form. Only once before had she felt so worthless. Only once before had she felt so scared. And on that night, she had promised herself that she would never feel that way again. Her eyes stung with tears as she squeeze them closed, praying to gods she had previously given up on. Gods, she believed, had also given up on her.

"Have hope, young one."

The voice filled her head like an answered prayer, and for a few stumbling beats of her heart, she thought the gods had heard her. But as the voice tugged at recent memories, not yet shoved to the back of her consciousness, her eyes flashed open once more.

"Arianne?" She gulped the word, a drowning woman struggling for air.

Horses could not smile, and the even the concept was ridiculous. But she could hear a smile in the reply. "Listen to Ma. Trust her, and she will guide you."

Ma? she mused wordlessly. But as quickly as Arianne had filled her mind, she could feel the emptiness of the spirit's departure. Her chapped lips moved to question once more, when suddenly, her right hand grew suddenly warmer. Perplexed, and still trembling, Josette climbed into a kneeling position. Now, the sword in her hand throbbed, a sensation similar to pressing her palm to her own galloping heart.

The war raged around her. The more capable thundered closer to the tentacled beast, their swords careening through the air, aided by magic far superior to her own. They hardly noticed her, and in that moment, she no longer noticed them. Instead, she lifted her sword to eye level. "Are you what I am to trust?" she whispered, though the sounds of battle tore the words from her lips. "Ma?"

Golden light blinded her. A startled cry came without thought, and she might have turned away had she not noticed the arrival of yet another player. The form was solid enough that she could not see through it, but its edges shimmered as if constructed entirely of warm sunlight, or shimmering lightning. Four hooves rumbled like thunder, filling the cavern, and rivaling the symphony of movement and shouts.

At first, she swore it was Arianne; the rich gold of her coat was the same, and the size was similar as well. But as Josette looked closer, she recognized subtle differences. Rather than a straight black mane and tail, this horse shimmered with dazzling shades of red, as if strings of fine rubies had been woven into the dark hair. No, the woman corrected suddenly. Not rubies. Fire.

"Lords and ladies," Josette mumbled once more.

[Hysteria]

Sir Soliel saw the roof of the crystal cavern suddenly shift as his torso was separated from his legs. The knight smashed into the ground with a clanging thud and his sword tumbled away. He tried to move, tried to cry out but there was only darkness.

The giant Shadow lifted its jet-black sword in front of its eye. The shards of wood peppered its body but failed to find true purchase in his flesh. The creature lowered the sword and made to ready another attack when the ground ripped apart beneath his feet. The water dove into the opening cracks, flicking up and sending a spray over the warriors. The behemoth tried to steady itself as the flaming steed cut across the shallow water and flaming goat heads through the air. Both smashed into its form as he tried to swat them away. The goat heads struck the creature’s face, while the horse his leg. The monster fell backwards into the water. The wave of black liquid that shot upwards extinguished the brilliant flames of Ma and the flaming goat heads as the creature pushed itself up and the blue crystal blade of the Rat arched through the air towards Shadow’s unprotected eye.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

A feminine voice echoed through the cavern. The last of the rushing horrors had fled, leaving only those smashed and cut during the conflict. Around the warriors was a wasteland with dozens of bodies, those defeated by the crystal blades and those cut down by Shadow.

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, and thou no breath at all?

A figure hovered in the air in front of Shadow. She was smaller, but there could be no doubt that her small tentacled form was akin to the giant. She was far more feminine, with lines of porous chitin melded over unmistakable female biology. She held the Rat in one hand and a small black crystal dagger in the other. She had stopped the blade before it had struck her brother’s eye.

How now? A rat? Dead, discarded and unused. For a ducat, dead and unseen. Shu! Hide!

The horror Dream lifted the rat blade towards the warriors. The blue crystal blinked with energy as it seemed to delay its response to the command. Suddenly a mist burst forth from the blade and both it and Dream disappeared from sight. The mist faded and only the light of the crystals and Shadow remained. The giant pushed himself to his feet, water rippling off his form and pouring back into the dark lake. The creature walked forwards. The tentacles on his back sprung out and twisted around his body to strike at the warriors. The shot forwards in an unending cascade of striking everything in his path. Ten tentacles, each one striking the ground in random pummelling. The creature was not targeting anything, he was targeting everyone. He walked out of the lack and towards the one that had attempted to take his eye. His slow gait would give the warriors time to react, but not much. Blood oozed from the spot in his leg where Ma had struck, and several burns lined his face from the goat Yang.

Dream was standing behind the group, her form cloaked in the magic of Shu the rat. She lifted her own dark crystal dagger and pointed it towards Philomel. A dozen tiny black blades burst from the tip and cut through the air with deadly silence. Each blade carried a dark corruptive magic, able to tear through a creature’s energy. One strike would cause exhaustion, four nearly immediate collapse and any more death. Dream would not allow another earth quake.

[Philomel]

It was simple enough really. An easy decision.

There was no 'f*ck there is another one,' no 'how the hell did this just get weirder.' None of that. There was only a pause, a shift in the atmosphere, a glimpse caught in a dire-fox's eye. All those who believe that Philomel van der Aart walks alone in the earth is an idiot, all those who presume to think that she can be caught by a strike at her back, as the last whispers of her mighty earthquake fell away to stillness.

How the faun knew of the attack was by the soft thump behind her. Tapered ears twitched, slanted pupiled eyes stared into space, whilst the beastly head, not currently the most used to thinking logically. It took time to turn, to tilt the caprine head and groan. Groan at the sight beneath the hooves of the gargantuan half-goat, half-human. Groan, cry, bellow, howl shriek ...

Veridian had seen, and had taken, the full brunt of the dark magic blades, or those that had seen their mark. Some whistled off into nothingness, others still yet spat into the ground as they had been beaten off track by his dire-paws. The rest, perhaps three in all - those he had not managed to distract - dug into his fur. They slammed into his being as he had seen, had leapt, had saved his beloved's life. Now he was downed, and his flames were steadily burning away to mere sparks and smoke as he struggled to breathe past the black poison filling his body.

Veridian ...

Just get on with the fight, Veridian's voice filled her mind. It was hoarse, full of pain and slipping away. Get on with this, whatever this is. This trick stole us from our home and gives no reason but to try to kill us ... fight. Go.

His golden eyes slid closed as his form could no longer keep up the energy of fulfilling his enraged, dire form. Whisps of vapour took away his body, leaving just the natural, small body of the red-russet fox, barely able to keep on the edge of conciousness.

I will be fine. I will hold on until I can.

The massive half-breed beast watching him from above. Barely, did it move, and neither did it - she - cry. All Philomel did was stare, her unusually large heart beating and pounding, eyes growing madder with rage. As she listened to Veridian's breathing grow more labourious she did not grow worried, nor sorrowful. Instead, in her current form, the feeling that grew was fury. Fury at what had been done to him, fury at them stolen from their lives to this place. Fury at the fact he never needed to take the pain for her again, had they been left to their lives. Had not this bloody tentacle world whisk them away.

The bellow. It filled the cavern, sending the very crystals in the ceiling shaking, rattling in their solid holds. Turning her face towards where the black pellets of death had come from, Philomel knew in that second there was a second villain to take care off. Though she could not see precisely where it was, for there was no clear form in the rocky shadows, she knew by judgement of where the black magical bolts of agony had come from. She tried to relate these thoughts, but they only came out in a string of bleats. Quite frustrated now, and full of boiling rage, she sucked in her breath and gave the earth her intent. Rocks shook around her, shaking as they were awoken with a call.

One second passed, a single moment of quiet before the storm - and then they rose. From up to ten metres around her rocks and stones, each no bigger than a healthy apple, flew with meglomania towards her. They wrapped themselves around her lower torso, over the skin already naturally as strong as steel, knocking all senseful beings on their way over. They clung there, held by purest magic, as the faun swung up her two swords once more. Calling out now the name of her magical sword - the beast she had slain in order to gain it - she jeered and cried. In thick bleating tones.

But the Rabbit sword still understood. And answered.

Wrapped in an essence that seemed blessed by the sun, thick vines poured out from the very blade of the sword. They were like the tentacles of the creature's themselves - yet much more natural. Much more connected. Much more ... Drys. Philomel breathed in slowly as she watched them swiftly develop into a more physical form and grow faster than any other plant. Curving over her hands, coiling and sprouting small leaves they raced down either side of her body to spin down her mighty legs. There they bloomed with bright green foliage and settled to a peaceful existence around Philomel's hooves. As she felt them tighten somewhat, her lips parted and she lifted her eyes back up to the invisible villain that was their attacker.

For in her goddess-blessed glory she could sense what these vines longed to do. She could connect to their secret conciousness and allow herself to become absorbed in their history, their past. What the Rabbit sword had been, what these vines gave to those who bore it. What the purpose of these vegetative wonders was.

Softly, she spoke to them, telling them that she was willing. That, by the grace of Drys, she was honoured to be chosen.

And the vines connected to the proud sword, now pointed directly at Dream the Unseen's heart, responded. Instinct and wonder, faun and rabbit. Powerful, Philomel leapt, her own natural ability accelerated by the magic thriving connected from sword to hoof. Upwards she flew, magificent she rode the air, accelerating the whole hundred or so metres that separated her from her new foe.

[Jake Narmolanya]

The dragon blade carved intricate patterns in the air as Jake fended off two of the tentacle-monster's appendages. His wounded leg still wobbled dangerously beneath him, limiting his movement to short, awkward steps. Still, the callused hands clasped on the sword's hilt flowed through the forms they knew so well. He countered the striking tentacles again and again, until his blade dripped with slime, until he found occasion to slice through one of them. The thing slithered and thrashed like a dying snake as it fell to the ground, and Jake kicked it away.

The cavern seemed to shake with the bellowing of the great goat woman, who appeared distracted by another foe behind them.

How can we possibly hope to triumph over such a beast? Jake wondered as his bad leg almost gave out beneath him, what could we do to it that would... of course! The half elf limped closer to Amari, Shinsou, and Storm, and then created a small portal behind the four of them. The portal's twin opened up directly behind the monster's lumbering legs.

"Guard my back!" Jake called to the others, and stabbed at the tentacle-beast's hamstrings, his sword passing through the gap in space. The portal dissipated and the half elf stumbled, the use of so much Tap energy exhausting him. He shivered despite the sweat of exertion, feeling the chill brought on by the lake's icy water.

"Need to warm up," he murmured, transferring the grip of his sword to his right hand. In his left he summoned a ball of flame, holding it rather than casting it, allowing it to warm his hands and body. As more tentacles assaulted him he fended them off with sleek movements of his sword and swathes of arcane flame.

As he fought Jake felt the hard hands of exhaustion threaten to strangle him. He breathed deeply and cleared his mind, focusing on everything and nothing in the same moment. The sword that had grown heavy in his hand became light once more, almost an effortless gesture. The gouts of flame that seemed to drain the very life from him became as natural as breathing, for more energy from the Tap flowed into him with every breath. Jake settled into a steady rhythm of fighting, a pace he could maintain for as long as necessary.

We will not falter before this beast.

Jake felt a certain kinship with the other wielders of the crystal blades. Even with the fallen Sir Soleil, who had been a brave knight, facing his death as any warrior could hope to. Jake fought for the knight. He fought for Amari, for all her faults, a close friend. He fought for all the others in the cavern, who battled alongside him, employing their own talents.

Will it be enough? The half elf wondered, or will we need to combine our powers somehow? Do the crystal swords have more abilities than they've shown? He gripped the dragon's hilt in both hands once more, and focused on channeling his fire magic through the sword, aiming to send a great blast of flame directly at the behemoth's head.

[Storm Veritas]

Watching the sword find its place in the eye of the great terrible beast gave Storm a ringing satisfaction, like an archer satisfactorily splitting a bulls-eye at county fair. Despite his age and experience, the warrior pumped a fist quickly, flexing his sinewy muscle as he taunted the behemoth beneath his breath.

”Gotcha, bitch!”

The monster wailed backwards, splitting into multiple forms, when a large dark female apparition gripped the sword. Her coming was foretold by an omnipresent voice, and her gentle, nimble frame moved with a grace and smoothness. As quickly as she arrived she took action. The blade burst into a splash of water, and the feminine form was gone.

Son of a bitch! That sword can make people invisible and I’ve been swinging it around like a goddamned chimp.

There was no time for adulation of the floating specter before the original menace regained form. It was far less humanoid now, the hulking, twisting mass of flesh and anger outdone by its own flailing black tentacles. They snapped out at him like bullwhips, the group around him no doubt similarly menaced. With magnificent agility, the magician vaulted over the first striking length of boneless muscle, catching footing quickly before somersaulting over a second tentacle which appeared headed for his throat. Like the mongoose, Storm Veritas sprang about with speed and finesse, flailing the bright kris dagger which appeared blinding. He slashed with furious desperation at the inhuman limbs. Sadly, there were too many cobras.

It was the fourth tentacle that served the wizard his undoing, clutching and grabbing at his heel as he swung his knife. With the force of ten horses, the appendage ripped the foot out from under him, sending him crashing hard upon the wet stone surface. His head knocked violently against the ground, an immediate blackness drowning his peripheral vision and leaving his vision tunneled and hazed. The splashing waters, the screams of men, the slash of sword, and whip-snap of tentacles all faded behind the shroud of a high pitched buzzing noise which dominated his brain.

Ungh… the blade. Where’s the blade!?

The dagger had fallen from his grip; the giant was pulling him in now at a lower force, obviously preoccupied but nonetheless lethal. The aging adventurer rolled onto his belly, moving the tunnel of view about frenetically until his gaze found the shining dagger a few feet from him in a shallow puddle of the darkened mess. He pulled forward, straining against the tentacle, unable to make progress and the blade outside his reach when an epiphany struck him.

The blade is metal, you f*cking idiot.

A deep breath, and Storm reached again for the blade, his fingertips two feet from the dagger. A small, simple electrical field was issued, and the dagger floated dutifully into his hands, as though an extension of his very flesh. Only when the small weapon rejoined his hand did the veteran acknowledge the large series of scratches and cuts, leaving his hands raw and bloodied. With clumsy speed, he spun once more upon his backside, yielding a little ground to slash violently at the tentacle, still gripping his ankle with fury.

“Get… the… f*ck… off!”

Three swings was all it took for the precise knife to cleave the thin end of the tentacle, sending the wizard rolling backwards over his shoulder and back up to a knee. His eyes arose to the giant, hoping for a stroke of luck.

[Josette]

Mingled surprise, excitement, and horror fled her lips in a choked gasp. The equine form summoned with Ma's help had charged the beast, exhibiting a power and grace unmatched by anything Josette had ever seen. The force of the strike had sent the enemy reeling, tumbling back into the murky water as pitifully as an unstable child. The initial delight had been extinguished just as quickly as the horse's fiery form, as it was swept back by the dark wave. And as the behemoth climbed back to its feet, she could feel the fury pouring off of him like the small streams of water. Her short-lived victory had merely succeeded in infuriating the monster further.

His massive tendrils cracked across the ground, a sharp sound akin to gunshots that echoed in the roomy space. The knight's hands began to tremble again as she clumsily secured her sheath to her belt. She had to move, had to do something, but her mind could not quite tell her exactly what that something was. Josette raked a hand through her hair, a damp mess that fell limply back around her face - she had not even had time to tie it back in her trademark braid before being thrown into the hell that now surrounded her.

“Get… the… f*ck… off!”

The voice was nearly lost to the sounds of the battle, but the deep fury in his words was enough to draw Josette's attention. She rounded on him just in time to see him tumble, released from the grip of of a tentacle with a swing of his knife. As if summoned by the injured limb, a piece of which still lay flopping beside the kneeling man, two more tentacles reared up before him.

The woman lunged, her mind snapping to life at the sudden movement. She raced through possibilities, through potential plans, as her boots scraped across the pebble-littered floor. Should she attempt to use her abilities? The mere thought of trying to locate her place of magic in such a hectic place terrified her. Should she ask for Ma's help again? In truth, she was still unsure of how that had happened in the first place.

So instead, Josette thrust her sword back into its sheath, and squatted behind the downed warrior. "Help me," she stated without fanfare, hooking her arms through his, and lifting. He had a full head on her, but the weight difference was not as stark as it might have been; a lifetime of training had packed pounds of muscle on the woman. Still, she gave a low grunt of exertion as she brought him to his feet.

What now? "We need to back up." Her voice was hollow to her own ears, bereft of the emotion that pulsed through her. The monster provided all the incentive she needed, the two nearest tentacles flailing close enough that they flung drops of water against her flushed skin. They were quickly running out of time.

[Mari]

Tentacles, it had to be fucking tentacles

"Why not fight fire with fire?" Amari muttered under her breath, quickly slicing a tentacle before it struck Jake. It fell to the floor and writhed around in a pool of thick, gelatinous ichor. Amari wrinkled her nose, it's stench was overpowering. She slammed her foot down on it, momentarily forgetting that she wasn't wearing shoes.

"Eargh..." It stopped moving, that was quite possibly the only positive. Amar;s sock was drenched in whatever liquid coursed through the tentacle. She wasn't sure if it was the bite of the cold, or the liquid itself, but she felt a tingling sensation that almost burned the sole of her foot. Amari made a mental note not to do that again.

As the blackened tentacles flew all around the fighters, Amari's own protruded from her back, they felled another 3 of the large beasts tentacles before they fizzled out, Amari had exerted herself, relying too heavily on them. No doubt, she would not be able to use them again in this battle. She glanced to the side at Jake who was holding his own, sweat dripping down his forehead, shaking hands holding fast to his weapon. He was pressing forward, but Amari doubted his ability to last.

Just how long is this meant to go for?

Amari's spare hand found Shinsou's and wrapped tightly around it. She glanced to her side, giving him an extra squeeze as though she were afraid she'd never get the chance to show such brief intimacy again. "Shin..." Amari tugged at him, urging him closer to her, without waiting for his reply Amari used her other arm to link with Jake; forcing the two swords to touch. The sword of the Dragon, and of the Snake seemed to thrum with energy. "You two. Lets get these damn glowing trinkets to work together!"

[Hysteria]

A crack echoed through the cavern as stone smashed into flesh and rock. Dream screamed as the stone-encased faun smashed into her shoulder and arm. The horror pulled away as strands of her dark flesh attempted, and failed, to keep the limb connected. She sprayed violent blue blood across the faun as she stumbled away. Her severed limb fell to the ground still clasping the rat blade. Dream moved quickly, darting across the cold cavern floor and away from the faun.

Behind the duelling females, similar in their monstrous forms, the giant Shadow failed to capture his prey. The warriors fought as a team against his size and strength. Shinsou stood next to Mari and turned to look at her. Then he was gone. There was a flash of tentacle and sickening crunch as the human was sent bouncing across the stone ground. He came to a rest in a crumpled heap. The goat blade flared with energy and in less than a moment both had disappeared.

Another of the fighters had been killed or disabled by the siblings; the aged and unnamed shopkeeper, the foolhardy Sir Soliel, the unlucky Shinsou and of course, the brave Veridian. Their fight was not in vain however. A sword flashed out of a portal and struck the back of Shadow’s leg. The giant lifted his foot forwards, but it crumpled as he tried to shift his weight and the severed Achilles gave way. The giant fell forwards, unceremoniously collapsing in front of the warriors. His giant black crystal blade bounced along the stone floor and came to a skidding halt some metres from him.

Behind the fallen monster the surface of the lake rippled and shook. Four massive tentacles burst from the water’s surface. One of them was undoubtedly the same that had torn the ice sheet off the lake. Shinsou had created the ice with his magic, but it had been nothing compared to the strength of the tentacle. The four gruesome pillars of flesh hung in the air high above the warriors. At first nothing, and then, slowly, the water started to rise. The lake formed the centre of the cavern with the stone ground forming a ring around that. With the water rising the area the warriors had to stand upon was shrinking. The threat of the black water did not end there. The giant pool started to rotate. The rising water pulled against the bodies of the defeated horrors and dragged their corpses into the dark abyss of the whirlpool.

Shadow had only just stepped from the water when he engaged the warriors and was felled. He dug his hands into the stone and held himself in position as the dark water lapped at his back legs. The tentacles on the monster’s back flailed around, striking at nothing in particular but attempting to keep the warriors at bay. Dream had put some distance between herself and the faun. Her dagger flashed with dark power as she held it in front of her. Dozens of tiny black blades, the same ones she had used against Philomel burst from the tip of the dagger and swarmed around the horror. She sought to cage herself from the warriors safe at the edge of the cavern.



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Next to the wall of the cavern, where the higher ground was safe from the rising water three lights burst into existence. Just as those that had been summoned before, they were snatched from their daily lives and brought to the cavern. The first was an elf, his mane of wild hair, bare chest and colourful war paint identified him as a wild bladesinger. In his hand was clasp the sword of the ox, the glowing deep blue magical residue slowly fading away. In his other hand was a traditional elf sword with a large, flat and curved blade. The flecs of blood splattered across his body indicated he had been dragged directly from battle. The second was a monk dressed in loose orange robes and holding the monkey blade. His bald head was creased as he looked around the cavern and the chaos. The elf struck the closest thing that didn’t appear friendly, and that was the monk. The aged human caught the ox blade with his own.

“Calm yourself!” snapped the monk, “I have been brought here like you. This is a challenge from the swords, one that Master Orshi of the Silver Phoenix School shall not fail!”

The elf pulled his sword back and moved away from the other new arrivals. He didn’t look scared, he looked crazed. The final summons was a tall man with tanned skin and light grey hair. The rouge Seph looked at the pig blade in his hand and threw it to the ground.

“Thayne damn all these bloody enchanted swords!” snapped Seph.

The rogue shifted on the spot as he looked around the cavern. He had been standing in a shop when he picked up the blade. The shopkeep had been nowhere to be found and he had been drawn to the crystal sword’s colour. Now he stood in the cavern as some war raged on. He wanted none of it.

[Mari]

His warmth slipped from her hand and was replaced by a bitter chill that caused Amari's entire being to shiver. Amari glanced over her shoulder.

"Shin?"

The sickening crack followed by the slump of his body made Amari want to vomit. In one moment, he was there... he was by her side, and she had him and his warmth...the next he was gone, taken from her. Not only gone but quite possibly dead. Amari forced her eyes shut, not wanting to believe that the man by her side, the man she loved had been felled so easily.

That wasn't real, Shinsou is a strong and valiant man, there is no way such a thing could fell him... I'll open my eyes and he'll be there, he'll be safe.

She opened his eyes, and his slumped form was still there, stationary and bloodied. Again, she forced her eyes shut, but the visage of his crumbled form was burned into her mind.

He'll be ok....He'll be ok....

She opened them once more.

He was gone.

"SHIN!?" Amari tore her other hand away from Jake as she turned toward where he was seconds before. Where did he go? What happened to him? "SHINSOU!?" Her voice cracked and heaved as tears welled in her eyes. Amari felt a burning ache that threatened to overcome her, she wanted nothing more than to collapse into a ball and pretend this wasn't happening, and that she didn't exist.

A tentacle flew past her head and hit the water laden ground beside her, the action snapped her out of her melancholy and drove her into a seething rage. "YOU!" She hissed as she turned again to face the monstrous tentacle beast. "You did this! You..you..you...." The words fell from her lips like venom, thick and heavy in frothing contempt. Her breathing became ragged, and she lost perception of anyone and anything around her except the beast.

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she let out a guttural and heart-wrenching cry. Amari charged forward toward the Shadow beast, picking up its blackened sword along the way. Ignoring its tentacles and without regard for her own safety Amari leapt up and onto its back, piviting on her foot she drove the glowing snake sword into the tendon between his shoulder blades. The sword hissed as it began to burn through the beasts flesh. It was as though the sword was made for Amari, it complemented her in both aesthetics and ability, it dripped with a putrid poison that tore and burnt away the flesh of the living, just as her very soul did.

"I'll kill you, I'll kill you...I'll KILL you!" She bought the second sword down and drove it into the beasts shoulder blade, her wrist jolted as the blade bounced against heavy flesh and bone. Amari steeled herself refusing to move, holding on with every ounce of will and strength she had, all the while she repeated those same words over and over again as crystalline tears fell freely from her face.

"I'll kill you, I'll kill you... I'll kill you."

One of Shadow's tentacles flicked up and pierced the flesh of Amari's thigh, still she held on, gritting her teeth and repeating her mantra. This beast, this monster killed Shinsou, and she would bring it down, even if she had to die to do it.

[Jake Narmolanya]

More tentacles assaulted Jake, shooting in on all sides. The half elf had given up on using fire, exhausted from controlling the flow of energy from the Tap. He wielded his curved longsword in both hands, carving a swathe of safety within the danger zone. For each oily appendage that attacked, the youth swung his sword. The sheer volume of the tentacles pressed him backwards. He stumbled and limped over ice and stone, climbing toward the edge of the cavern.

"Amari! No!" He cried as the woman raced forwards. Jake knew she would ignore his words. She'd spoken of her connection with Shinsou. The loss of the tall swordsman was a great one; he had been a strong rallying point for the crystal warriors. Who would take up the mantle of leadership?

"Get back!" Jake yelled as he climbed out of the tentacles' range. He was talking to Amari, but also to the other fighters. "Stay away from the water!" The rising vortex had already sucked up the bodies of their fallen foes, and would be sure to swallow any caught within its clutches. The half elf sheathed the dragon blade and turned, scrabbling up the stony slope on hands and feet. His vision blurred and his breathing sagged; exhaustion closed its deadly embrace around him but he soldiered onward. He knew what he had to do.

As he climbed to a high vantage point against the cave wall, Jake set his feet and stood. He drew several deep breaths and then focused on conjuring one more portal... just the size of an ordinary door. His focus slipped and skittered, but he bit his lip and called upon his patented brand of magic.

The portal appeared in front of him, its twin behind Amari where she perched on the great beast's back. Jake reached through the portal and closed his arms around the girl's middle, gathering what remained of his strength to pull her to safety.

She let out a banshee-like shriek and elbowed him in the jaw.

Jake released her and stumbled back against the rock wall. "Amari, no," he mumbled, drawing his sword like an Alerian automaton. Fatigue pressed down on the muscles in his legs, in his core, and in his neck. His back slid down the rough wall as his legs stopped supporting him.

I just need to rest a moment. But I must help Amari...

The dragon sword glowed softly and Long appeared, floating effortlessly in the air in front of Jake. The green ethereal dragon's broad wings outstretched; the right touching the half elf, the left reaching through the portal to Amari's back. Jake's ankle began to feel somewhat better, and the wound to Amari's thigh slowly healed. The dragon lingered, and the portal remained.

Just need to rest for a moment...

[Philomel]

Darting eyes twitched from the remains of the black, horrific arm, to the creature that had emerged when she had forged contact. In her eyesight at least, when she had made the strike reality had become clear. Like a veil being lifted, Philomel went from raging against the invisible to seeing the evident - the woman warrior who had stepped from shadow into light.

In her hand the enemy who had injured Veridian held a blade, and it did not take long for the monstrous faun to figure that it was one of these special swords. Very similar to the same one she had struck with - the Rabbit blade that still had the vegetative tendrils spiralling out, around her arms and down to her hooves. The plant sang with power, and prideful ability, sending flickering waves of the reminders of power and strength through her body. Lost in these thoughts, lost in the glancing between arm and beast, Philomel found the extremely faint pulse of Veridian's mind still there, still clinging on. Off to the side his body still lay, holding onto life but barely.

Revenge. Partly, it had been taken in the method of the segregation of body and arm. But it did not give rise to an absolute sense of completion. Rather, it left the feeling half-filled, half-achieved. There was a lack of real certainty, absolution, that made Philomel turn and begin to glare at the now visible enemy and long to finish the occupation she had begun ...

But alas - the faun eyes saw the horror lurking within Dream's. The shock and the rapid intake of fear, conjoined with the extending of the remaining hand with a black knife. Whether it was by sheer chance or the fact she had already damaged her, Philomel saw the magical woman behind any, if at all present, veils, and call upon the darkness. Pointing away from the faun she gestured at the centre of the cavern, where the faun had not been paying attention to at all. A place where the water was swirling, and rising. A place where tentacles were waving, and destroying. A place where other warriors were appearing - and dying.

Screams of, "Shin? SHINSOU?!" Of, "I'll kill you!" Of, "Get back!" Sounds of splashes, of carnage, of screams amid a massacre ...

The faun sucked in her breath once more. She spied Dream, aiming the dagger at the new decided enemy. Steeling herself, Philomel decided now was not the time to achieve reciprocation. Instead, it was a time of ability, and death and duty. Dealing with the most dangerous enemy, joining with she who had downed her beloved and aiming for that that had the largest sense of current danger.

Aim, breathe, crouch ...

Launch.

High again she leapt, mixing Drys-blessed faun magic along with the thriving heart of the Rabbit blade. Up and away she soared, past the trembling form of Veridian, past the knight of the sun. Past the water's edge, now slightly receding and past the body ... the corpse of a dear friend. What the fuck ...

The battle-fueled mind of the raging faun hard barely registered what the words had meant before. The cries of, "Shinou" and, "I'll kill you." The general screams and the high-pitched pledges of vengeance. Sounding something like what Philomel had sworn, though in her head. Blinking, she registered just as she landed, taking on a new form of fury. This time it blossomed, lovingly, thrumming through her veins and she landed on an upraised tentacle, bound by vines and encased in anger. Down she struck, again and again as her mouth once more opened and the death-defying bleats of an incensed, impassioned, inflamed goat hybrid filled the cave. Echoing around they merged in their crescendos as she stabbed, down, as the tentacle flailed, down, as the half-elf boy appeared nearby, down, as Mari was screaming ...

Down, down ...

Down.

Down.

[Storm Veritas]

He was pulled back by someone, wrangled free from the cusp of death by someone he didn’t recognize. Everything had grown fuzzy, foreign, and far off as the wizard moved about in a haze. His tunnel vision was black at the periphery, and a pulsing pain run through his head with the deep thump of a bass drum as staggered about the hall, trying to get his bearings.

The hell is this place? Why are we all here? And what…?!

Shinsou, one of the few allies he trusted, was felled, dropped by the wayside with no regard or consideration. It couldn’t be real; the lack of grandstanding alone by the monster screamed a false narrative to Storm. Of course a monster would celebrate defeating a warrior that grand; he would have to gloat and show the body as a warning for the others.

With gritted teeth, the wizard knelt away from the injured, falling shadowy beast. It appeared the tentacled monstrosity was felled, however the waters around them rose and began to churn. Braced against the rock, the shadow held tight and appeared to sneer at them as he began manipulating the water.

We don’t have much time. This shit will drown us soon if we don’t put these bastards down. Thought that sword would do the trick; looks like it was pretty goddamned stupid to throw the f*cking thing away.

The water was still not too deep to significantly slow them, and the magician set his feet solidly as his bearings returned to some degree. The musty odor of the cavern ripped through his lungs, its vile stench bringing him back to the moment.

Mari leapt and attacked the great beast, her ferocity echoing an affection for the great warrior. She was manic, frenzied, and lethal. She also made it impossible for the master wizard to fire off a mighty blast of electrical energy without likely sending her to the earth below. She made a better female than fertilizer, so the haggard adventurer spun about, seeing the barely visisble outline of something else in the room.

It had to be the female warrior, the one that had taken the sword and disappeared. As though the light around her was forced to bend and move, the visibility of the female warrior was very slight, as only the edges of her existence could be discerned. Focusing, Storm saw the fluttering image of what lay behind her as the apparition moved. Finally, a ring of dark colored daggers began to appear, circling her in a spinning pattern. It looked as though she was preparing to end this on her terms.

“Alright bitch, you ain’t sneaking around behind my ass, not with Mari tearing your man up. Let’s see what you got.”

Focusing his attention on the center frame of the fluttering light, Storm fired a bolt of hard white electric energy towards what he presumed was the second apparition.

[Josette]

Josette had found the cavern chaotic before, but the mood then could not hold a candle to what she saw now. The woman heaved the warrior closer to the edge of the cavern, endlessly alert in case another tentacle lashed out during her retreat. While doing so, she watched another man fall, struck by the monstrous figure that tormented them all. Her muscles tensed, a wave of gloom as dark as the rising water washing over her.

But then it was gone. She had played witness to the death of many soldiers, and had caused the death of many more. Whatever it was inside her was hardened to such things, and save for the immediate chill and regret for loss of life, she rarely dwelled on such things. There was one fewer sword on the battlefield, and for that, she was sorry. There was also one fewer man who would return to his family, supposing he still had one, but she did not allow herself to think of that. Rather, Josette spared the felled man his seconds of tribute, before forgetting him entirely. She had things to do, and as the sloshing lake continued to swell, she knew she had even less time than she would have liked.

Others in the room, however, did not exhibit such calm. Shrieks filled the cave, an oddly animalistic sound that made Josette cringe. This was the sound of pure agony, yet another thing she had not been able to escape during her time as a soldier and mercenary. Josette had heard such screams before, in a little town in Salvar. And in her dreams every night since.

She clenched her jaw tightly, as if it would somehow tighten her hold on the last of her quickly fleeting control, while she watched true pandemonium break out. Fighters who must have known the downed man became more sporadic in their attacks, raw emotion now pulsing through them, and driving their every action. A feminine voice shouted his name, or what Josette assumed was his name; it rose above the din in a way that greatly unnerved her. This was chaos, the likes of which she had seen only once before.

Reaching the wall at last, she made to prop her patient against it. He, however, had other plans. Without acknowledging her, the man knelt away from her, then climbed to his feet. He squared his shoulders, seeming to study the scene unfolding with the rigid determination of a man returning to battle. There was none of the earlier exhaustion, or whatever else had plagued him when she had first scooped him up.

Not as bad off as I had assumed, she concluded, taking a step back from him. There was nothing more that could be done for him, but at least she had moved him before the water level grew too close. Josette was glancing toward the higher ground, appreciating the temporary haven it provided, when she spotted the other figure. He appeared slightly smaller than the man she had just carried, though it was difficult to tell amidst the panic of battle. Another difference between the two was that hers had seemed to regain some strength, while this man appeared unconscious.

Or dead.

Josette moved to him, dropping to her knees beside his limp form with only a wary glance toward the emerald dragon. Though it was magnificent, it did not appear to pose any threat to her. Besides, considering her present situation, perhaps the dragon would be the least of her worries. Nearer to him now, she could see his chest rising and falling beneath his black silk scarf. Still alive, at least, but seemingly unresponsive.

Without hesitation, Josette's hands briskly patted down his arms, starting at the shoulder, to feel for any wounds. Were she to find any, perhaps she could work to heal them. Perhaps she could provide some aid, and not feel entirely useless among the other skilled warriors. She passed over his chest, though did not dare to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt. There was no pause in her movement until her palms found the side of his head, and the pointed tips of his ears felt foreign against them. Elf? Half elf? Whatever he was, it appeared he was without outward injury. But why then was he left, propped like a forgotten rag doll, against the rocky wall of the cavern?

[Hysteria]

The three newest fighters seemed superfluous. They were caught up in the cascade of emotion and anger released by those that had been fighting and suffered the loss of their comrades. Red, the elf didn’t pause. He bound forward, driven by a blood lust for the giant tentacle create Shadow. Others had already hacked away at the giant, be it the girl Amari with her venom coated sword, or the faun pounding on his back. The giant struggled to hold on as the water rose up to his elbows and twisted faster and faster. A stray tentacle smashed into Amari, sending the rage-filled girl through the portal and into the cavern wall. She was hurt, but at least she was away from the rising whirlpool that would have dragged her small body into the abyss. Philomel was not quite as lucky.

The tentacle that struck Philomel did not carry enough force to throw her through the portal like it did Amari. In her monstrous form, she was just too heavy. Instead it bounced off her and did little to redirect her rage. The horror Shadow buckled with his bloodied shoulder and the weight and might of Philomel. The elf Red darted across the shallow water and up towards the pair in their death throws. The elf was maddened, battle crazed, instinctual. He threw himself towards Philomel as the giant twisted and reached towards the faun. Just as he hand was about to wrap around her and drag both him and her into the watery abyss the elf slammed into Philomel and knocked her aside. His blade flashed and Shadow’s hand was sliced in half. Despite his efforts, the elf was not immune to gravity. His acrobatic display ended with him falling onto the writhing mass of Shadow as both were pulled into centre of the whirlpool. The crystals illuminating caught rows of yellow teeth within the whirlpool’s centre and the pair disappeared into the tremendous gapping maw.

Philomel was knocked away from the centre of the whirlpool, but she still landed in literal deep water. It would be up to her to escape the same fate as the giant and the elf.

Dream could only watch as her brother was dragged into the gaping jaws of the final horror. She had failed to stop it was awaking, and it had consumed the bodies of all the defeated horrors and her brother. She lifter her crystal dagger to her chest and looked at it’s dark form. She thought herself safe within her cacoon of rotating shards, but she was not. Lighting smashed though her shield and into her body. She screamed again, the same scream as when Philomel had smashed through her arms. The lightning charred her flesh and boiled her blood. She collapsed, and the magic keeping the shield of blades rotating around her failed too.

She fell to the ground, a smouldering heap of flesh.


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Seph continued to try and ignore the cries of anger and rage that echoed through the cavern. Despite himself he could feel their emotions, their righteous cries for vengeance and retribution. But, that was not was drove him to action. A small red creature, smaller than a dog and much harder to spot, whimpered. Seph turned and saw the water rising around the bodies of who-knows-what horrors. In between them he saw the small form of a fox. The creature’s colours were far more natural then the disgusting hues around it, even when bathed in the multitude of the coloured crystals above.

“Fuck…” was all Seph could manage.

The grey-haired rogue moved into a sprint, darting over broken bodies and mangled corpses and into the rising water. His boots splashed through the dark, corrupted liquid and Seph’s face twisted into a higher level of disgust. He vaguely thought of the ruined leather of his boots as he scooped the small form of Veridian. His fur was tainted by the black water, but Seph could feel him breathing. With his small charge in hand, Seph promptly twisted and made back towards the safety of cavern walls where the water had not reached. He was slower on the way back with each step feeling as though a dark hand was trying to pull he feet from under him.

The rogue reached the wall and fished through the pockets of his jacket until he pulled out a small piece of toffee. With one hand wrapped around the candy and the other cradling the fox Seph started to heal the tiny fox.

[Philomel]

Water. Cold. Wet. Making her fur stick to her and -

Slap! against her flesh, her eyes, her horns, sword ...

The sword. Barely could she grasp onto it as the water pounded around her, swirling, twirling, whirling, throwing her this way and that. Only the vines - those rabbit vines - kept the blade from slipping between her fingers as it coiled even tighter around her and tried to hold her form together.

Twice she had been beaten. Once by the very tentacle she had been intent on destroying, then by another thing - something alive and wriggling. Another beast? Another hero? Who cared. For now all her beastial mind could thing was - SURVIVE. FLEE. GET OUT OF HERE.

But do not let go of the sword. Never ever, let go of the sword.

As if responding to her thoughts, the rabbit vines began to pull in the blade closer to her body. As she was still tossed around like an old ragdoll - her mighty hooves pounding, trying to find some hold, her mouth gasping, as she tried to catch a breath - the sword was pulled close, tight to her body. Quite unceremoniously the vines assisted in finding a way to slide the naked blade down by her waist, all the while as it nicked against skin. Releasing blood, droplets splayed far and wide in this whirlpool of death.

~*~

Elsewhere, a russet-coloured form trembled. His eyelids flickered as he felt warmth flow back into his body. But it was not the warmth of his residing fire-whisp - oh no - it was the warmth of healing, of friendship. Of mercy, and of kindness. Of goodness and love, of - arms. Craddling him, holding him close to a body.

Philomel?

Eyes flicked open. Golden irises with round black holes of shock and awe stared out. Muzzle opening wide he gasped for a breath of fresh air, in his mind calling out in a panicked voice, Philomel, Philomel, Philomel! I am here!

"Oh, hello."

The scrabbling of his paws stopped. Ceasing, freezing, it took him time to realise other things, apart from the simple fact that he was feeling a lot better. Heart racing, body pumping fresh blood in excitement of a renewed strength, Veridian collected his thoughts and feelings before he let it overwhelm him.

The voice was not recognised. It was nothing familar, or faintly distinctive. The way it spoke the word meant that it did not understand him through his mind, which likely meant that it was, in no way, his beloved Philomel. Those arms, wrapped around him gently but securely, were not hers. Instead, now as he searched, he realised he could barely feel her mind, not in any state that it might be - enraged or otherwise. For she was remote, vague, muffled and distant. She was weak, beyond all normality, just as he had been until recently. Her mind was sliding, slipping away and now he - he ...

And there was a strange sweet taste in his mouth.

Moving fast, and fluid, Veridian rolled away from whatever being or beast held him. Paws scraping across the ground he pounded and fled backwards, eyes glaring at the thing that was trying to be Philomel, and failing. Hissing he spied the shocked, yet rather pleased form of a male person holding out a hand. From that outsretched palm came the faint marvellous scents of a treat worth having, a treat that was mirrored by the remaining tastes stuck in his gums.

But it was not Philomel. She - she was elsewhere.

Twisting sharply away from the creature who had saved him, Veridian began to search for his beloved faun. Looking over the cavern he noticed that things had altered since he had been knocked to near death - the small lake was no longer a lake but rather a whirlpool of death and destruction. A giant of a form that had previously been an enemy was struck over, deceased. Other corpses lay around, some of them fresh and as innocent as a newborn babe, and other warriors swarmed to defend their lives that had been so cruelly ripped from reality.

By some mere chance he saw her quickly. Right close to the centre of the whirling pool was her large goat-head barely above water, gulping air only when she could. Hands thrashed around besides, trying desperately to swim away with all of her mighty strength - yet fighting against a fierce force of nature. Luckily for her the major enemy currently - a tentacled beast of fearful magnitude - was distracted, its muscled snake-like arms moving to catch more dangerous foe. Yet, it was not helpful, for a fate of drowning or devouring awaited her, and that did not suit the faun matriarch particularly well. Fading was she and fast, and Veridian knew he had to give her hope.

Sucking in breath he gave the loudest roar he could muster, coupled with the greatest mental shout he knew.

Philomel, cried he, PHILOMEL, COME BACK, and he began to ran towards the shifting shore.

~*~

When she heard the voice, her heart was filled with renewed hope. Passion swam into her mind, surreal joy as a connection that had been fading on both sides was re-established. It started as a thread, a hair-breadth in size, but very soon that hair thickened and she was able to grasp it. One hand. Two hands. Blood seeping out from her side but ... avoid the mouth desperate to eat.

Philomel!

She knew it was he. It could only be he. Longingly, she answered:

Veridian! My darling!

He responded, Come back. Hold on, don't let it take you.

I won't, I swear, she promised, as her body began to paddle faster, I won't, I -

Her mind and voice were cut off, interrupted as her desperate survival instinct took over. Born of a fury and a time where ancient giants ruled all, her form began to twist and revert. Beastliness took over, her reasonable mind that was less so already due to her raging form was thrown to the winds. Hungrily the animal within, rekindled with the idea of new hope, surged through her body and her skin began to ripple and expand. As muscles once more ripped asunder, then patched themselves together, Philomel found the emotional, mental and now physical strength to kick away, finally, from the pull of the whirling waters. Her hooves slammed against a soft, fleshy foothold, before pounding her away, several feet from the stronger current.

As she did so her torso, legs and neck continued to transmorph, buckling under a power that would not be dissmissed. Her armour loosened, the straps breaking as she became a form not entirely made for it. Still, as she continued to change into something devilish and red eyed, with fur as black as the nightmares themselves, she struggled farther and further out, until her arms began to break, then bend and flick into yet more legs. With a last throw of her three toed hand she tossed her belt, along with its swords, into the shallows, in hope someone would find it. Her chest-piece - well that for now was forgotten and could be retrieved later, because time was precious. Time was of limit.

Until at last she stood, six foot high to the shoulder, and nearing half a ton in weight. Dark-hued, mad-eyed, and full of rage, she was a dire-goat born of earth and hell, and only a hero could stop her. Letting out a bleat, a shriek that was agony to the ear, she raised her head and stomped. Before rushing. From her hooves was born a second earthquake, except this time more powerful, and from her might curling horns there was born an intention.

An intention to kill, and not be killed. A purpose to fulfill the Rabbit's desire, and rush on. As to the sword itself - it was not within the floating bundle of assorted weapons, but rather it seemed to have disappeared. Maybe it was lost, maybe it had been eaten, one could not know. But the raged Philomel van der Aart knew, and felt, that it was inside her, in spirit at least if not in power.

[Storm Veritas]

Well, that was pretty goddamned smooth. These f*ckers drop like rocks.

The floating apparition fell after his explosive blast, a twisting, shrieking heap that landed with the disjointed, unprotected limpness that only came with certain death or unconscious. It was a moment for him to move, away from the source of the churning waters.

Standing from the grime, covered in a thin, dark gruel that coated his chest and abdomen like an oil-borne paint. He drove forward, pumping his legs out from the swirling perimeter of the whirlpool. The body of the lady atrocity was lifeless when he reached it; by her side, coated in an ink-like pool of blood lay his precious Rat blade, which had started all of this disturbance in the first place.

Around him, Amari appeared healthy, aware, and that brave boy was being attended to. His friend Shinsou was gone. As they’d joke, he’d celebrate the living, not mourn the dead. Speaking of the living. His head had cleared a great deal, he could take a few moments to help those that needed it before blasting his way out of this… well… whatever the hell this was.

Philomel!?

The monstrous faun was not historically a friend, but she had been critical in felling these abominations. The wizard had also heard her spoken of fondly; clearly for her…interesting appearance, she tended to do more good than harm. While it wasn’t his style, the seasoned electromancer had learned to appreciate the value of the other specials here upon the plane of mortals.

“Phi!! Get the hell out of there!”

The horned beast raged forward, Storm trying to pull at the metal structures surrounding her rigid, musculature frame. As he focused on each piece of metal upon her, the goat-lady burst from it, casting the metal aside and leaving him pulling at a useless slab of iron. A chest plate first, then a belt, swords, and what appeared to be some broken bits… all were extracted from the waters and pulled close to him.

Holy shit, Phi, you’re f*cking killing me. Leave something on, or I’ll shove the belt buckle up your ass and pull you from –that- next time you need help.

Independent of his help, the now-colossus known as Philomel had emerged from the waters, her massive foulness twisted, impressive, and overwhelming. Still clad in nothing but grime and soaked sweat pants, the wizard motioned for the neatly-aligned pile of metal trappings he had pulled from the water.

“You seemed to have dropped damned near anything I could have used to pull you out. Glad you made it through.”

The chestplate stood as the most preposterous of all the tools. This once critical armor would look like a child’s toy against her hulking structure now; what did she DO with all of this stuff when she turned into the enormous thing before him?

Looks much more useful for yours truly…

The chestplate, a twin-clamshell with completely destroyed ties to bind it now, was easily hefted with a small magnetic field. With a twisted smile, the wizard hopped into the stomach of the bowl, his narrow buttocks balancing as he motioned about. Legs dangling off before him and thin, lean body otherwise balanced over the metal, Storm Veritas was quite proud of his ingenuity as he levitated some four feet in the air.

“Mind if I take this bad boy for a spin? Dicked up my ankle something awful with that battle against tall, dark, and rapey back there.”

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake became fully alert in time to see the dire goat complete her harrowing transformation. The sound of rushing, sucking water filled the cavern, but the goat-lady's bellows echoed above it all. The woman who had been patting Jake down helped the half elf to his feet.

"Thank you," he said, still somewhat dazed and unsteady. Long, the ghostly green dragon, still floated between him and Amari. Jake's ankle no longer felt injured, and with that realization he did his best to gather his thoughts. "Are you alright?" He asked Amari. "I'm Jake, by the way." He told the armored woman.

"That thing killed Shinsou!" Amari screamed, starting toward the water.

Jake grabbed her around the waist and held her still. This time he knew to duck beneath her flailing elbows. "We already took care of that tentacle-monster," he said, "only..." he peered off the short precipice at the great, horrific maw that leered up from the rising water.

"Has anyone got any spell that might kill something that big?" He asked, not expecting an answer. The giant that Jake had de-tendonded had seemed impossibly large and resilient. The thing in the water had devoured it like a bite of chichen. Would the lightning mage's strike be strong enough? Jake had his doubts. Amari's tentacles might do the trick, but she would need to get close, and the whirling water had already risen too high.

There is one thing...

Jake set his jaw. Fatigue hung heavy on his body and mind from fighting and wielding his magic. I can do it... I just need a few minutes to rest. I hope we can survive that long.

"I visited a volcano in Dheathain once," Jake said, still holding a struggling Amari, "I stood on the edge and looked down at the boiling magma. I think I could put a portal right in there, and set it to spout lava straight down that monster's mouth. I think I could... but I'll need a minute to rest and concentrate." Finally the redhead stopped thrashing and the half elf released her. She collapsed to her knees with a wail, muttering the name Shinsou in a mournful rhythm.

Jake scraped his palms up his face and raked his fingers through his dirty blond hair. He felt as if the weight of the world hung on his shoulders, or at least, his life and the lives of the other warriors. As he looked down on the massive creature at the center of the swirling vortex, he began to remember the shape of the magma bubbles, the heat venting up the opening, and the strong reds and blacks of the volcano. He would only get one shot at the portal, and it would need to be perfect.

[Josette]

"Jake," the knight echoed, before giving a nod of approval. "I am Josette."

Perhaps there was more to say, better introductions meant to pass between the pair, but her new acquaintance had his hands full, in the most literal sense of the word. He held the angry woman tightly about the waist, a look of concentration etched into his face as he attempted to avoid flailing limbs. Josette watched the outward display of emotion in silence. She was never one for such public dramatics, never playing a role in them, and often annoyed by playing witness. Though judging by the sound of the rose-haired woman's voice, and the fact that she still spoke of the Shinsou person, Josette concluded that she was the one who had wailed when the warrior fell. So the Coronian merely bit down on whatever comment threatened to spill forth, and focused her attention on the monstrosity that consumed their previous two foes.

At the same time that she reflected on its seemingly impossible size, Jake questioned whether there was a spell for defeating it. Her blue eyes clouded at the thought, and the realization that her magic was far, far too simple for such a deed. Ma, her only other option, seemed very unlikely to provide aid in this instance as well; the fire that had formed her mane and tail would hardly stand up to the inky black water that was quickly rising before them.

Her gaze again swept the edge of the cave, the safe space shrinking as the water level climbed. There were even fewer individuals gathered there than she had first assumed; more had fallen to the twins than she realized. There was one individual, however, who held her attention as he clutched a golden bundle of fur to his chest. The creature, who she finally identified as a fox, was slick with the water that now threatened them all. At first, she assumed the thing was dead, as it was entirely unmoving in the man's arms. Yet as she watched, the animal began to stir. It came to, seemed to get its bearings, and then leapt from him and back into the throng. Another might have followed the fox, as an animal so hell-bent on returning to the water was certainly fascinating, and not an every day sight. But Josette remained staring at the man with the grey hair. Had he healed that fox? Did he have the same powers that she struggled so terribly to control?

It was Jake himself that put forth the first proposal, drawing her attention back to him. Josette considered it for only a moment, as she knew those trapped in the cavern likely had no more time to spare. "I know little of the sciences," she admitted, "but what will happen when this being strikes the lava? If it is flesh and blood, it may die. But if it controls the water, or is made of water, will the volcano be effective?" In fact, "knowing little" of the sciences was perhaps too generous a statement - she knew next to nothing. But even her uneducated mind struggled to imagine what would happen when the dark water met the hot lava.

[Mari]

"I don't need a spell! I'll kill it myself! I'll rip it apart with my bare hands!" Amari screamed as Jake tensed his muscles, holding her tighter. Amari was a strong fighter, she was not wrong in her assumption. Her very body was a weapon, her hands could tear through its flesh like it were nothing more than melting jelly on a warm day. Her fingers would slice through sinue and bone alike, and all she had to do was lunge at the thing. Swirling watery whirlpool be damned.

She didn't care that she couldn't swim, she didn't care that she'd no doubt die trying to avenge a man who may or may not have truly loved her in return. Amari's emotions were raw and wild, and without reason. She barely registered the other younger raven haired woman with her sapphire eyes silently judging Amari's hysterical flailing. Finally, Amari calmed down, if not only for the mention of filling the beasts gullet with molten lava.

"Do it." Amari muttered.

"Science be damned, what use is science when opening magical portals across continents? Where Crystal swords drag you from your home? Where people DIE?" Amari snapped, her words were aimed at the stranger, but her eyes remained focused on the ground. Her hands balled into tight fists. "Controlling water...made of water...who gives a fuckin' damn, either way it'll be seared flesh, or steam..."

Amari took a shaky breath, trying to control her words and emotions, with no avail.

"If you don't fuckin' get to it i'm jumping down there myself."

[Hysteria]

Just as the water had risen, so too did it fall. The giant mouth in the centre of the lake opened even wider, pulling tons and tons of the black liquid into its maw. The water receded faster than it had risen, and in less than a minute the giant lake was little more than puddle in comparison. Where the water had been now only a slick of black residue and the scattered bones of long dead things too stuck in the black gunk to have been dragged into the creature’s mouth. The creature, the final hurdle for the warriors to earn their freedom, slithered out of the thick black liquid that had congealed in the centre of lake.

Gone was the attempted humanity of the siblings, this was little more than a head mounted on a mass of writhing tentacles. The gigantic mouth sat squarely in the middle of the head, with half a dozen white eyes perched in groups of three above that. The proportions of the beast were hard to describe, many times the size of the giant horror, the creature was to a human as a human was to an ant. It moved with the drunken bobbing of a town fool, but it’s size turned the normally preposterousness of each movement into a terrifying dance of death. The head moved towards the warriors, spreading out the giant tentacles that pushed it forwards until they reached the group. The tentacles could flatten a man with one movement, but they were thrown randomly, smashing into the rock floor of the cavern. If the warriors wanted to strike at the creature, they would first need to bypass the tentacles, then somehow strike the head. From beneath the creature’s mouth was a pulsating mount of flesh. Within that was a radiating dark light, similar to those that had comprised the sibling’s weapons. The flesh below the head started to slip away, falling in torrents across its tentacles. The dark liquid pulled together in large drops and formed the tiny horrors that the group had originally encountered. With their small bladed tentacles bared, they leapt and danced over the head’s giant tentacles and charged forwards. Three dozen of the creatures climbed the slope of the dried lake towards the warriors while more swaths of skin fell from the head.


* * * *

Seph opened his arms as Veridian leapt down and darted back towards Philomel. The rogue was left alone as the others saved the faun, and of course the emergence of the gigantic tentacled head.

“Looks like it’s time to act,” said Master Orshi, “You should retrieve your blade.”

“No more magic blades,” snapped Seph as he jutted his thumb at the hilt sticking up over his shoulder, “This bastard is enough for me.”

The monk shrugged, “Somehow, I don’t think you’ll stand by and let us die. Even if you wanted to, escape can only come from fighting that creature.”

With that the monk darted forwards. He held his sword out and pointed it towards the horrors as he ran. His years of training was evident the moment he clashed with them. He moved with the grace of flowing water, easy shifting out of the way of the slashes of the horror’s bladed tentacles and striking back with brutal efficiency.

“Yedda’s big blue arse…” Seph swore.

Use me… use my power or die.

“Blah blah, death and shit,” Seph mocked the voice in the back of his head and drew the sword from the sheath on his back. The gold metal caught the light of cavern, glowing with reflected glory of the crystals above. Briefly Seph weighed attacking the creature directly or trying to protect the downed elf who seemed to have a plan. Neither seemed particularly beneficial, either way there was a giant approaching them that could kill them all with a single swing.

Seph darted towards the congregation of warriors and planted his feet towards the giant head. He knew he was taking a risk, but one that was best taken with others around him. The rogue summoned ten shadow clones, each one poofing into existence directly in front of Jake, Jossette and Amari. They were non-descript, clad in black apart from the metal gauntlets and boots. They ran towards Master Orshi and fell upon the horrors. The clones lacked the speed of the monk, but they moved with the finesse of a trained fighter. They struck the horrors with boot and glove to hold the line.

“Alright buddy. You better do whatever it is you’re trying to do quickly,” said Seph. While the rogue used his dogpile ability he wasn’t able to use any other abilities, and what was worse was this many meant he was anchored on the spot. He would have to trust the others would have a plan.

[Philomel]

He felt her mind.

The raw, savage, coarse mind of a being-turned-beast, fueled by the baser instincts that intelligent races pride themselves of being able to conquer. Simple anger, indignation, difference and passion burned through her body, causing the state at which she acted to be instantaneous, and without much hesitation. Those emotions were what nourished her, that gave her purpose and direction. They were what determined each decision and action - there was little reason, next to no logic. There just was and there was now. She was a unswavering beast of inclination, gut reactions and impulse, born of horn, hoof and slitted pupils.

Yet, while she was full of beast, magic still reigned. It still thrived within her. This, partenered with the willpower of the Rabbit blade that somehow had survived the transition alongside Philomel, gave a heartbeat and a further glory.

Veridian's eyes watched the charging, wild goat with patient icterine eyes, his long brush tail swishing with anticipation. From his how healed stance he could feel to the very depths of her mind, from the surface thoughts to the deeper, secretive feelings. Enraged as she was, her brain was open to him, for she simply had no patience currently to let any guard rise. All she was was fighting spirit, vehemence and a killing instinct - there was little of the genius pirate, schemer, strategist and spy that an enemy telepath could glean. Her actions were compulsive and reckless: stampeding first for a flailing tentacle nearby. Then, as that began to waver and slip somewhere else, she would alter course to attack another. A twist from there, and the flickering image of another enemy would be held in her periphery, causing another alteration in course, another assault, another run, another -

Suddenly the battle transformed. Those partnered with Philomel in striking out at the tentacles were all caught off hand as the water's receding revealed the full, ugly form of the beast who lay within. Into nothing it disappeared, leaving the gaping, fanged maw of a flailing, tentacled kraken, and Veridian indeed found himself scurrying back for better footing. Yey, he was there, upon the edge of the war, but he had been merely a recovering watcher, far enough from the warriors who fully asssailed the water, appendages and black muck of abysmal origin. Somewhere, also, the strong stench of brimstone and burning ground came, but it did not matter as the behemoth monster sucked in a breath - then exploded.

Movement. Fast. Black vile goop, similar to that which had burst into their baneful lives when they had first got here, splurged out to even directions. Veridian shrieked, not believing himself well enough to even attempt the beginning of a new fight, and scurried back far behind a large rock. He caught a glimpse of the fuzzy-haired boy who had helped him before, the not-Philomel who had held him and brought him back to the light. Veridian thought of thanking him - but now did not seem the time as the fearful, dirty, slime-made ooze beasts began to feirce attack.

Another round, another onslaught.

Instinct truly taking advantage of her blessed state, the beast that was Philomel the faun suddenly disappeared. The earth beneath her, without warning, opened up, making a whirlpool of soil and ground beneath. Through this the dire-goat vanished, and then from quite another direction she re-appeared. It was from the wall of the cavern itself, and right close to where one of the human women was fighting. (Veridian remembered that this individual was called 'Amari,' liked to be called 'Red' and had got very angry when Shinsou had faltered in his strength. He also remembered that Philomel had a bizzarre soft spot for her.) The goat viciously battered to death with a wild stamp of her hooves the same ooze-horror that had been creeping up behing the red-haired girl. And then -

Then Philomel was gone once more. Through ground, through rock and dirt and upwards to where water was no longer, to where the vileness of this repulsive, dark nature tried to reign. She appeared once more, running at the far end of the cavern, far away from Veridian and the once-lake, stomping and taking out three of the goop-horrors. The earth-devoted, Drys-beloved, transformed faun would not let it win this day. Her instincts denied her. Her will deprived her. Her devotion to her goddess would never allow her.

She would fall, and she woud die. If Drys needed her to.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Just one more portal, Jake thought, just one more. I can do this... I can. The wall of clones conjured by the newly arrived warrior, combined with the might of the goat-monster, kept the tentacles at bay for the moment. They granted the half elf the reprieve he needed to summon his remaining energies. Fatigue clutched at his muscles and his mind like a barnacle to the side of a boat. He ran his hands through messy blond hair again and took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said, mostly to himself, "here we go." He raised his hands.

In his mind's eye he pictured the burbling magma, remembering the deep red hue and the scalding scent. He recalled the feel of the volcano's rim beneath his boots, and the faint breeze touching his scarf. He relived the moment where he'd become lost in the endless boiling of liquefied rock and mineral within the mountain. He imagined being down inside the molten lava, burning to his bones and deeper. That was where he wanted to go.

With an eldritch shimmer a portal began to form above the vicious maw of the monstrosity.

Crinkles formed at the corners of Jake's eyes as he concentrated. The weight of the magic felt like a thousand boulders piled atop his shoulders. Just a bit longer. Soon the magma would be flowing out of the portal, enough to kill even the greatest-

Jake's mind slipped, like a runner hitting a rough patch in the road. The thousand boulders he'd been carrying came crashing down. The portal wavered and vanished.

"I can't..." Jake fell to his knees, mind racing. What could he do? He felt sapped. He did not have the strength to summon another portal to the volcano. He had barely enough energy to create and maintain a short hop, and it would be all he could do to keep it open. He would not be able to attack through it, as he'd done with the devoured monster.

Except he wouldn't need to. He was not alone.

"There!" Jake shouted, although it was more of a gasp. He opened a small portal in front of him. Its twin hovered directly above one of the massive monster's many eyes. He looked down into the horrifying white eye as it rolled in its socket, for the moment exposed and vulnerable.

[Josette]

The woman just lost someone she cared for, Josette reminded herself, the thought like a shout in her mind. Her choices are fueled by rage, sadness, and pure adrenaline. This was the only thing that kept her from encouraging the woman to be her guest, and jump into the swirling depths herself.

Still, despite the understanding that the woman was suffering, Josette found it difficult to sympathize entirely. Even at her lowest point, she had regained in control of herself. Not once, not that day in Salvar, or that night in Radasanth, had she allowed her emotions to dictate her actions. As the words spilled from the other woman's lips, fast and wild as rapids over rocks, the knight recognized that this was when mistakes were made. In this heat of anger, and heights of passion, bad decisions led to worse outcomes. It was dangerous, fighting beside people who were unfamiliar, who had not yet earned the trust required to survive battles such as this. And this stranger, her hands balled into fists, was a flame sputtering beside a powder keg.

"Suppose it is seared flesh or steam," she countered dryly, schooling her features into a neutral expression. "Can you assure me that this thing will die? If we send it to a volcano, and it survives, have we not set it on Dheathain? The rest of Althanas? At least here it is contained, and surrounded by people who might stand a chance of killing it." For someone so hell-bent on saving lives, did you not stop to think about that?

Her gaze swung to Jake, and she stated, "Do what you will. Perhaps it is the best course of action. But to not consider the consequences, even for a moment, is reckless." Josette did not have to look back to the woman for the jab to hit home.

The blonde man appeared to ready himself, and Josette recognized this as the moment he would open a portal. Volcano or not, successful or not, there was soon be a dramatic change to the game they were playing. As the knight's blue eyes moved from the half-elf to the ever-growing behemoth, she suddenly realized she was holding her breath.

As quickly as he had begun, Jake's body crumpled, as if all strength had been zapped from him at once. She wondered if he might lose consciousness once more, and she made a step to catch him if he did. But whatever was left in him, whatever lingering magic he still clung to, formed into one final shimmering portal.

"There," the man shouted. The cry had not finished its echo against the jagged walls of the cavern before Josette drew her sword, and flung herself through.

Ma was freed from its sheath in a swift, practiced motion. And as the warrior fell, the weapon angled downward toward the bulging eye, the light that did manage to permeate the darkness gleamed across the golden blade.

[Mari]

"There!"

Jake breathed, his voice denoting the struggle and exhaustion that clawed at his entire being.

It was all she needed. Any concern she had for Jake, who was no doubt her only friend in the entirety of Althanas, was overshadowed by a blind desperation for penitence. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the emerging beast, a gelatinous glob of eyeballs and writhing tentacles. The crystal sword of 'She' the snake began to glow. It's blade twisted, changing its form till it was that of a serpent. The tip of the blade now a hissing snakes head, dripping the same red toxin that the sword tip produced earlier.

Amari glanced down and gripped the sword tighter - a small grin forming on her wild, tear stained features. She wasn't sure how, nor why... but she knew that this was the very snake she had been swallowed up by, the physical embodiment of the sword, and the essence of her vile hatred, and anger was seeping out' ready to strike, ready to bite into the flesh of its adversary and watch as it rot away, screaming in sheer and unabashed agony.

Amari moved to jump through the portal but her chance was lost as instead, the raven haired woman dove right in after having some 'choice' words to say to Jake. Words she didn't register or hear, to Amari, it was white noise.

"fuckin' cold hearted bitch." Amari muttered under her breath as she watched the last tendrils of the young girls silken hair disappear through the portal. It was just mere seconds before she had planned to. Amari was just that little bit too far away, and the raven haired woman disappeared. Amari didn't bother to lower her eyes toward the beast. It was obvious that was where the woman went.

Amari didn't know her, she had no reason to dislike the woman, but something about her demeanour pissed Amari right off, perhaps it was the loss of Shinsou - it clouded her judgement, and on a better day Amari would begrudgingly agree with the woman, but that day was not today.

"Fuckin' HORE!" Amari swore as she turned around and threw a punch at the wall behind her. Amari felt cheated, she felt as though the woman took her vengeance away from her, her chance to slay the vile creature that had killed the man she loved. In one innocent action the raven haired girl stole the last part of Shinsou Amari desperately clung to, and that pissed the red-headed assassin off.

[Storm Veritas]

Everything seemed to happen before him, in a vacuum far away from wherever and whatever deeds the magician set out to do. The monstrosity and his sister had both been killed, and Storm thought the combination of the Rat blade and his electric burst could certainly claim a healthy stake in each slaying. What remained, what lingered, reminded him of the serpent-haired monstrosity his parents had taught him of, the horror that turned men to stone with but a gaze. It drank the whirlpool in an impossible gesture, its preposterous mouth appearing to be the end of days for all who dared enter.

Worse, floating in front of the faun, was the absence of his own reality in the midst of these soldiers. Had Shinsou really been felled? Storm’s own ankle pain felt real enough, and the reaction of Mari was reasonable, but none of them seemed to see him, sense him, or make any attempt to work with him. Mari had dragged him from the morass, aware of his horrible threat but seemingly unaware of the weapon she had at her disposal. None of them seemed to understand.

Stupid sons of bitches. I come in, kill both of these mother*ckers, even save all of Philomel’s shit, and what thanks do I get? They flock together and fight like goddamned children.

Storm Veritas found him quite literally above it all. The chestplate he had commandeered from Van der Aart made for a fantastic transport, levitating him with minimal effort as he sailed high up and away from the tentacled disaster, watching the soldiers march towards the throng of Mari, the brave little blonde fool, a compassionate healer, and a young man who also looked a splendid blend of brave and stupid. Hovering, watching, it all happened before him as a piece of performance arts.

One monster blast to the ceiling of this place and maybe I cave the whole f*cking place down over that big-mouthed son of a bitch and all these fools in one shot.

The option presented itself, and the once-villain breathed deeply at the possibility. It would make life far easier to avoid the inconvenience of dealing with all of these abominations, including the new barrage of oncoming soldiers that had marched forth. Perched in their position, waiting around the wounded young boy, they were all so brave, vulnerable, and stupid.

Oh, son of a bitch. Fine.

Leaning forward over his knees, Storm used his left hand to guide the chestplate below him like a glider. The entire thing dove and pivoted through the air, swirling in a path in front of the group as he spun the sword in his right hand. Outside of his view, a smooth haze of green-blue formed around the blade, a spinning steam. Slashing at the first of the soldiers, his eyes widened as a set of small, fog-borne rats fired forward from the small blade, squeaking and wriggling their assault at the big open mouth of the awful back thing.

His strike hit only one of the soldiers, and his concentration remained focused on controlling the chestplate, allowing him to soar up and away again once more from the damage he had created.

Holy shit, didn’t see that coming. The hell did I do that?

[Josette]

The sword jerked in her hands as it plunged deep into the beast’s eye. She was still falling, still dragging the blade across the vulnerable tissue, as her victim bellowed in surprise, pain, and outrage. Its massive body thrashed once, shaking her free, and sending her splattering against the hard surface of its face. The air was violently expelled from her lungs as her body bounced, her head making contact and sending stars swimming in her vision.

Her heart galloped in her chest, and between her ears, rivaling the sound of the battle taking place below. Even as Josette fought to draw a deep breath, she felt the monster’s remaining eyes on her. She felt it shift beneath her, undoubtedly preparing to flick her off like the insect she was. Her already throbbing muscles tensed, then cried out in protest as she climbed unsteadily to her feet. The monster’s face rolled, akin to an earthquake trembling under her boots. Squaring her shoulders, the woman clutched the sword so tightly that the knuckles of her right hand lost their color. And then she turned to face her enemy. Or, at least, her enemy’s ruined eye, as it was difficult to truly face an enemy when you were standing on that particular part of his body.

What now? Her mind raced, formulating plan after plan that all ended in absolute failure and agonizing death. But as her hand warmed, and a faint golden light reflected in the remains of the monster’s tattered eye, Josette knew that Ma was preparing to save her hide yet again. And she was thankful for it. The light grew brighter, then burst with a flash as the form of the mighty horse materialized once more. The mare gave a shrill whinny of outrage, her ears laced back to her skull, her paper-thin nostrils flaring wildly. Then she thundered away from Josette, toward yet another eye that now rolled in anger. The horse, it seemed, had the same idea as her young charge.

There was nothing left for her to do but run. Her sword had protected her once more, providing a distraction so that she could make her escape. If she did not start now, if she did not cover as much ground as possible, it was likely that Ma’s attempt would have been made in vain. Even if she did run, as hard as fast as she possibly could, it was likely she still would not be free. She towered above the now-miniscule lake, stranded atop the same beast she attempted to slaughter. And that was not a pleasant place to be. Shouldn’t have jumped through the portal, one part of her scolded. The other part answered, You had to do something.

So she pumped her arms, tucked her head, and willed her body to give just a little more. Her hair fanned behind her like a black cape, the strands that framed her face already slick with sweat. The beast’s hide was uneven, and constantly moving, but she still moved with a reckless abandon. If she lost her footing and fell, she would surely die. If she was too slow, and a tentacle caught her, she would still die. And that made the decision clear enough for her.

There was a sudden change in the air around her, a shimmering light that lined the edges of her sight. The hand that still clung to the sword warmed. Then there was Ma, falling into stride beside her. But this time, Ma did not move past her, bound for some distant target, as she had before. This time, the mare gave Josette a side-long glance with her brown eyes. They were filled with a soft patience, and flecked with brilliant gold, and they seemed to say, “Now or never.”

Josette thrust her sword into its sheath, fumbling only slightly as she turned to ready herself. The horse was massive, far larger than any she had attempted to mount before, but she suspected Ma would be more accommodating than her previous rides. With all the energy she could muster, and a low grunt of effort, Josette launched herself toward the mare’s withers. Her fingers wove into the flapping mane and grabbed for the thick neck, and she hefted herself upward. It was not graceful, and Ma had to slow to a bouncy trot while the knight clawed atop her back, but Josette finally ended up astride the Clydesdale. Together, they half ran, half slid down the behemoth’s side, and though they were far from safe when they finally reached the solid earth, Josette sent up a prayer to any divine beings she could think of.

[Mari]

Amari punched the wall again, trying to diffuse her anger, whatever small glimmer of coherent thought trying to calm herself down, and push her anger away from the black haired woman toward the beast. It was it who seemingly dragged them here. It was itwho spawned those strange black blobs, and it was it who had killed Shinsou.

Amari went to throw a third punch but something caught her eye, something so incredibly bizarre and surreal it was as though everything had paused to see the spectacle. A single dingy chest plate bounced across the floor, as though it were being tugged by an invisible force. Amari's eyes followed up, as it soared into the air and.... and...

What the actual fuck?

And there was Storm, riding it like some sort of villain atop a mighty steed. Except in this case the steed was a hunk of metal. Whatever the fuck Storm was doing, it did the trick, it baffled Amari so much it snapped her out of her rage. She glanced down at her bloodied fist, then back to the Crystal Snake Sword, it's blade still in the form of a snakes head, writhing and twisting, waiting for her swing, waiting to bite down into the unsuspecting flesh of its prey.

Finally....finally Amari shifted her gaze to the eye riddled beast once more, following the trail of literal rats that burst forth from Storms sword. Guess he has a sword based on rats...and that woman... Her eyes shifted to Josette who was making an escape atop a mighty steed. A horse. So each sword has a manifestation of its animal...

"A-Amari...g-go through...can't hold...m-much longer..." Jake gasped as he tried to push himself up off the ground. Amari glanced at him, then at the fading portal. If she were to go through now she'd be landing in a pile of blood, ichor, and writhing rats, with no sure way of using the portal to get away from the beast. I've been through worse

Amari gripped the sword, giving a small nod toward Jake. "Right."

You know what they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Amari was well and truly scorned.

She didn't offer Jake any words of thanks, she didn't offer him words of encouragement or reassurance. Such things had no place in battle. They each were playing their part and this beast was the last thing standing in their way. She dove through the portal, landing square in its gelatinous eye, part of it had already been torn open by Josette, a feat Amari would have to later thank the girl for, if she ever remembered. (And no doubt for the next month she'd sleep with damn shoes on. Monster eye juice between the toes does not make for good feel times)

The eyes were no longer her target. Josette made sure of that. Instead, Amari slid down, sword held high over her head as she let out an almighty scream of vehement rage, she slid past the writhing tentacles, past a dozen more eyes and...

plop

Into the beasts gaping mouth, she landed on its tongue and one false move would land her into a stomach filled with acid.

I've been through worse...

She repeated to herself as she lifted the sword high above her head, the blade lashed out at the monster and the snakes head dug into the beasts flesh. It's teeth sinking into the roof of its mouth. The skin and flesh around the bite began to immediately decay and rot.

The dying beast gave out a guttural roar which echoed around the red headed assassin as she held fast to the handle of the blade. It's tentacles began to thrash wildly, but she was safe, at least from the tentacles, within its gaping, dripping maw.

[Hysteria]

Seph was forced to watch as the various warriors did their own thing. With the portal humming next to him and two of the female warriors diving in, Seph knew he had to do something. The rogue pulled back the magic creating the shadow clones and all ten puffed out of existence. That left only the monk to face the tide of horrors.

“Oi! Floaty man!” shouted Seph at Storm, “Save the monk and this guy!”

With his orders given, Seph dived into the portal after Amari. It would be up to Jake, Master Orshi and Storm to keep themselves safe from the tide of horrors that continued to flow from under the monster’s neck.

Seph found himself in free-fall. The portal was high above the monster’s head, just below the glowing crystals. The rogue’s jacket flared behind him, while his eyes were narrowed against the air that rushed passed his face. A few simple words echoed through his mind as he fell… What the fuck was I thinking… The monk has been proven right, despite it all he had followed the two women on their doomed task. One had already ridden down the side of the monster, the second launched herself into the giant mouth. Seph poured magic from his blade through his body and into his hand. Dozens of tiny black petals flowed from his palm a formed a spear. It was comprised of hundreds of the tiny black petals, each one moving over each other to form a continuously churning mass of razor sharp death. The rogue threw the spear at one of the remaining monster’s eyes and then prepared to try and thrust his sword into the beast to slow his decent. All the while he felt like the biggest fool in Radasanth.


* * * *

The giant tentacle monster roared with pain. The first of its eyes has been sliced in two by the horse blade; the second was struck by Ma herself and exploded in a disgusting burst of burnt eye-juice. A third eye was struck by the spear summoned by Seph. The twisting, churning blades tunnelled through the eye and deep into her flesh. The creature’s mouth, until then permanently agape, started to close and threatened to crush Amari. Deep injections of She’s venom already worked their fiery acid on the kraken’s gums. So far, the beast has been struck multiple times, and yet the attacks had crippled rather than killed.

It would be left to the remaining warriors, either the three spread around the giant monster or the three facing the barrage of tentacle horrors, to strike the beast. The three gaping eye holes offered some chance to inflict mortal damage, or perhaps the pulsating skin beneath the mouth where the tentacle monsters were constantly emerging from. Perhaps even the environment could play a part in the death of the giant horror. The monster was completely unaware of the faun behind it.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake watched three warriors jump through his portal, and emerge in a series of flashes from its twin above the monster. They dealt its eyes and mouth furious damage, but still it roared and writhed. He forced himself to his feet and drew his crystal sword, but the momentary lapse in focus caused the portal to dissipate. Fatigue hung heavy on the young half elf's face, and he clutched his sword in both hands, but still the blade shook with the effort.

Long, hear my call. I need your help again. The sword vibrated slightly and the ethereal green dragon appeared next to Jake. She floated in front of him, long body weaving sinuously to a stop. The half elf reached out a hand. Long seemed to be made of nothing but light, and yet his hand struck solid matter. Warm, but not quite fleshy nor scaly, just... there. Long tossed her head like a horse. The indication seemed clear. Jake clambered atop the dragon's back and away they flew!

... Slowly. Fortunately they went almost straight up, above the seething mass of nightmare creatures conjured by the main monster. As they neared the gaping maw more tentacles struck at them. Jake's sword carved a protective swathe around them. He had not ridden since the recent loss of his late steed Gunner, but he was well practiced in the art of mounted combat. He shifted from one handed grips to two, stabbing and slashing at the tendrils, even using the sword to push some of the larger ones away. With all the speed of a young grandmother out for a brisk stroll, Long and Jake navigated the treacherous airspace.

Eventually they neared a point where they were within a proximity of Philomel, Amari, and Josette. They hovered some yards off the ground, still weaving slightly. Tentacles lashed angrily at them, but between the dragon's movement and the half elf's blade, the pair remained untouched.

The sword had become an anvil in Jake's hands. He no longer employed single-handed grips for fear he might lose the weapon entirely. Its curved blade rose and fell, the keen edge scoring deep hits among the different sized tendrils. Jake's chest sagged with each breath. The tentacles had not touched them... for the moment. But he knew he could not maintain the pace for long. Soon, he would be overwhelmed.

Within the sword, and beneath him in Long's body, he sensed a swelling of magical energies. Whatever is going on, I sure hope it's something more helpful than a bunch of wooden spikes.

[Philomel]

THUNDER.

The room filled with the cacophanous roar of rock, ground and foundation shuddering together. Stone met earth, pebble met boulder as the entire section of the cavern shook with violent spasms. In an arc the size of a thin angle at the point of origin, but rapidly expanding as the vibrations fled out from there, the force of furious nature travelled towards the barbarous kraken head. Four eyes had been injured, four eyes blinked still - but none of those eyes were focused on the creature behind it which had appeared from rocky portal.

The crystals above sang with melancholy as the furthest remanants of the earthquake reached them. Tinkling in delight they merely hinted at what the two hooves, planted into the ground just a few metres from the beast, had in store. It was horror and vengeance, instinct and rage, dust, blood and bone that shattered the earth into lines, cracks and splinters, all born from the power of the goat.

Direct went the cavern convulsion, straight to the unseeing behemoth head. The mighty goat let out the greatest bleat, powerful and demonstrative, crying:

"Here I am. Here is where I have been. Here is where I will end you!"

But before the creature could move to strike back, before it could utter any phrases or actions of vengeance, the great caprine monster that was Philomel vanished into the earth. She left her powerful quake to make its mark, and shatter whatever bones they might be able to sunder. Maybe an eye or two rolled around to try to search for her, and maybe the tentacles would dance with rage, but she would be gone. She was gone, through rock and dust and dirt, appearing to -

Collapsing. Falling down, as she struggled to breathe in and her body, already through hardships and trials, began to shimmer at the outline. Veridian ran to her, over to where she emerged from the ground a few metres from him. Rapidly her body was rejecting the violence of her dire goat form, crying out as the energy needed to sustain it, to keep up that magic was wreaking through her. It could no longer be contained, there was nothing more, except to turn back into the perfect form that she had been born in.

Heart collapsing to a third of the size, skin moulting and peeling from her flesh, slowly the goat turned back into the faun. It left her shaking, shuddering, gasping as her mind was suddenly set back to one of reason. And she became what she had always been; the thinker, strategist, whore, left naked and bare, without any weapons.

Save for the dull clink of the rabbit sword now dropping from nowhere, back into existence beside her.

Veridian nuzzled her gently and moaned in his silky voice. He let his soft fur glide against her cheek as he settled down to help her transforming body.

You have found me, he murmured, And now you can rest.

Philomel sighed, long and deep, given what she could, for now. She closed her eyes as he closed his, and together they fell into a mental state of relaxation, letting the earthquake take its work and admitting to one another that their forms today had done well. Too well.

Mediation. Taking in the silence, reaching out. Holding on, knowing that they had no idea where they were but at least they were together. In harmony. Mentally connected. The two of them, hiding behind the rock. A duet, a pair a -

A third. A rumbling deep in the rockbed of the planet. A source of fire and fury and anger. The last of the three, finally coming, eating through the soil to fight where they could no longer.

Delath the rock dragon had finally arrived.

[Josette]

Up and over the lip of the lake they rose. Josette heaved an audible sigh of relief as they continued to put distance between themselves and the beast, for if she had not had Ma, she doubted she would have made it out alive. One hand gripped the mare's flaming mane, though the blaze did not burn her bare skin. The other inched forward along Ma's neck, the muscles rippling beneath Josette's palm, and she gave her savior a pat. How many times had a horse saved her life? How many more instances would there be?

The pair neared the edge of the cavern, slowing to a bouncing trot as they drew closer to the waiting warriors. Some appeared too weak to continue, hunched against the rugged wall, or clutching various body parts. Yet even as the individuals settled in to rest, the tentacled minions continued to swarm. The raven-haired woman's lips drew into a thin white line as she glanced back at the behemoth. It continued to bellow in outrage, the sound drowning out all other things; were Ma a more skittish mount, Josette imagined she would have been thrown long ago. Blinded now, the creature's movements were more panicked. She was grateful that she had fled when she did.

But the girl with the pink hair remained, trapped in the mouth of the monster. Jake, now mounted atop his dragon, drew closer as well. They rode into the fight, as she had, yet they remained while she had left. A powerful urge to return gripped her, but the knight kept her sights on the flood of smaller monsters. Who would protect the others were she to leave once more? She and Ma had damaged two eyes, and perhaps that was enough for now.

So Josette threw her right leg up and over Ma's withers, and slid until her boots met hard, packed earth. Now riderless, even the enormous mare positioned herself between the charging tentacle-creatures and the struggling soldiers. Again, Josette mused, they had the same idea.

The woman drew her crystal sword, readying to strike when the moment presented itself. But even with her bent legs and balanced center, she began to rock as the earth heaved beneath her.

[Storm Veritas]

The rats burrowed and seemed to attack the sadistic monstrosity from the inside. The faint green apparitions dug in with an unbridled, unrelenting ferocity that ate and chewed and cared not for reason or order. They were entropy, and they were delectable. As he considered how magnificent the little beasts were, his attention was called by a young warrior, pleading with him in his banal little tone to save the monk and the boy. The boy, Veritas considered, was likely more than capable of saving himself. Still; his admirable courage had left him seemingly worthy of concern for the electromancer. Turning to aid the vulnerable young warrior, the wizard focused his…

The hell!?

Stunned, the magician watched as the boy summoned a floating dragon from the black dead of night, a glowing emerald beast which carried him up to safety. With some jealousy, Storm hopped down from his metal chestplate, landing wounded on his sore ankle and limping gingerly. He tossed the breastplate over his shoulder, securing a leather strap across his bare chest. It wasn’t a fit for his torso, but made a hell of a tool for him.

“OK, old man. I guess it’s time to get you the hell out of here.”

The wise monk looked at his junior partner with disdain; a great deal of pride and knowledge was owned by the elder who certainly felt no particular allegiance to a snarky, know-it-all punk of a warlock who showed up to battle in threadbare trousers reeking of whiskey and broken promises. With a sneer, the old warrior simply backpedaled and kept his blade aloft, motioning for tentacles which now moved with a blind anger towards them.

A flailing appendage swung violently at Storm, who held his own Rat blade at the ready. Before the great length of slippery muscle could strike, it had been severed, leaving the serpentine segment to spin wildly and dead by his feet. His sneer tempered, the monk simply gazed towards the brazen electromancer with a squint. He needn’t say anything; his successful assault was enough.

“Point taken. Age before beauty; lead the way.”

Gesturing behind him, Storm put the weight of his body on his strong leg as his injured ankle was held before him in a gentle tap. He hopped and pivoted off the strong foot, easily striking at two more desperately flailing tentacles, the slashes not severing but further wounding the beast.

Do I have enough juice left to just fry this f*cking pig?

He pondered for a moment, but decided upon discretion for now. Backpedaling slowly with the monk, he was physically drained. Several powerful blasts, the hovering, and the concussion that still spun his mind a touch had taken their toll on the grouchy old veteran. Should he attempt to finish the cephalopodic swell of terribly, there was a good chance he’d be out on his feet, and far too vulnerable for whatever next insane wave of evil came pouring out.

No, screw it, I can feel that rumble underfoot. Phi’s little buddy. I just need to get the hell out of here.

The monk moved backward, and with him the wizard hopped away, yearning for safety.

[Mari]

It worked.

Well...Sort of.

The signs of rot and decay continued to spread from the bite that her snake blade left, Amari would have struck again if it were not for more pressing matters...Literally. The small tooth riddled opening began to close, and Amari knew she had to prioritize not being eaten over striking it again. "Shit." she grit her teeth as she sloshed through the pooling saliva and slid between a gap in it's giant teeth which seemed more for show than anything else.

In her cavernous adventures, Amari had missed a few things that occurred on the outside;

The first thing she noticed was the giant hovering ethereal dragon above their heads, aglow in a shimmering emerald hue, and astoundingly enough... with Jake riding it. Seeing it made Amari a tad envious. Her sword was not the only thing to have a psychical representation of it's animal. As amazing as Amari's sword was, it was incomparable to a giant (albeit slow) dragon. It's redeeming factor was how well it seemed to mesh with her persona and character, Amari never really understood the whole 'your blade is an extension of you' crap until she held the crystal sword in her head, working in unison with it.

Another thing she noticed, was the distinct lack of a floating half naked man in the air. A quick scan of the area found him with an older man she did not recognise. Storm was backing away slowly as he tore at the onslaught of tentacles that persisted to fell them. Another rumble vibrated the cave, and Amari could hazard a guess that the snarky man knew exactly what was coming, and that it may be a good idea to follow suit and attempt to escape.

Alas, Amari was never one to follow through on 'good ideas'

There was another rumble, followed by the ferocious and threatening bleat of a goat.

Hang on that doesn't fucking sound right... Amari thought to herself as she gripped onto the slimy beasts body, hauling herself back up onto its head, she planted a foot into one of its smaller eyes for good measure, shivering as it tore through the thing and her soaked sock landed in viscous ichor.

There, behind the writhing tentacle monster was another monster, a giant goat lady who looked remarkably like Philomel. "Well fuck me sidweays..." Amari muttered, there wasn't much else to say, what does one say when they see a giant goat lady attacking an even larger tentacle blob? Just as quickly as Amari caught sight of the monstrous Philomel, the woman was gone again, disappearing underground.

Amari tore her attention away from Philomel, away from Josette and the mighty fire horse, away from Storm and the old man, and away from the half elf riding a dragon.

Amari ignored the violent tremors and turned her gaze downward to the monster, several of its remaining eyes were focused on her. It's tentacles flailed wildly around them, but it dare not strike its own body. With a guttoral roar it tried to heave her off of it.

Amari braced herself. "Not today fucker!" She hissed as she lowered her form, half crawling and half clawing her way across its many eyes being sure to stamp out any still blinking pupil with a foot or a fist. Amari neared the largest of the eyes, already gouged out by Josette. "Don't fail me now snake." She drove the slithering creature toward the eye and again, the snake head made contact, this time with the delicate flesh beneath the creatures eye.

The venom took its toll, instantaneously rotting and blackening its flesh. The snake slithered back into a sword shape and Amari was left gripping its handle as the blade was driven deeper into the krakkens skull.

The red headed assassin was dripping in saliva, eye gunk, blood, chunks of flesh, and who knows what else. She stank to high hell and her breathing was staggered. But to hell if she was going to let this thing beat her. Amari's left hand glowed an angry red, her energy was almost expelled but she still had fight in her.

With a final push Amari lifted her hand above her head and then drove it deep into the monsters flesh, her hands slicing through it like a burning knife, the scent of seared skin and meat stung her nostrils and caused her eyes to water but Amari did not stop, instead, she moved her hand upwards, continuing to tear the beast apart from the inside.

[Hysteria]

The cavern echoed with the sounds of violence. Battle would have been the word to choose, if indeed there had been equal fighting on both sides. The horror and warriors continued dancing as they had since it appeared. The giant, bulbous body of the horror waddled towards the cavern wall as its minions spread out like a spiked, tentacled wave beneath it. Amari and Seph were like specks on the giant’s face, but specks that had managed to nearly completely blind it.

The monster roared as sections of its flesh were rotted away by Amari and the snake blade. The creature continued to flail countless numbers of tentacles at the warriors who were spread around its base, but on its body, was a bastion that it could not strike… at least not with its tentacles. The creature’s flesh started to slosh off in gallons. The monster’s skin slipped from its body in thick, mucus-like waves. Amari’s legs were caught within them, as was Seph’s and his sword. Both warriors were dragged with the mucus down towards the base of the creature. If they were not able to free themselves they would meet with the dozens of the small tentacled horrors that waited at the base of the creature. The glue would not be easily shaken off, pressing into it would just spread its hold even further. The giant kraken-like monster speeded up production of the smaller horrors. What was a dozen became thirty, thirty into fifty. The pain and rage of felt by the creature threatened to literally swarm the warriors under the weight of its minions.

The cavern’s floor had nearly returned to the bloodied wasteland that it had been before the cleansing whirlpool of water. The ground was slick with the blood of the tentacles, both the smaller horrors and those of the giant kraken. Despite the warrior’s best laid plans, they had not managed to strike the critical blow needed to end the giant. Instead they continued to make superficial attacks against the creature. Dozens of horrors had been slain, and dozens of tentacles cut. What would be needed to strike the creature down? An earthquake under the monster slowed its movements, but failed to hurt the gelatinous body. Perhaps soon they would find a way to strike it down. If they did not, they would surely lose the battle of attrition.

[Philomel]

Once upon a time there was a group of goddesses. And they were deities of nature, with the power to give life and take them away. To some these goddesses were merely an arrant thought, some spare holies that were lesser than their own, mightier ones. It was true that the many races crawling over the face of Althanas had each their own creators and pantheons, but these goddesses were powerful. They were mighty. They had strength ... and creations of their own.

One such goddess was the goddess of certain trees, Drys the Fair. With hair as soft as wheat sheaves and a heart as determined as a havian stallion, she set about making her own mark upon the world. With love and with attention she made the earth-spirit kin, born as they are under her tree. And as a gift to the bipedal races she gave fauns, into whom she poured her hope and joy. As time passed, however, and gods came and went, the unending Tap securing its future, and the Ancients were given their name, the fauns lowered themselves in her expectations. The holy drink they made, called headbutt by the many, was drunk to excess, and the Fertility Festival, the Gersh'Ra, became something of an orgy for fanatics. Drys was horrified to find her children thus so, and she began to search until she found a possible saviour for her beloved people.

And search she did. And find she did. In a small brothel called the Crouching Tiger, tucked away in the backstreets of Radasanth, in the heart of a young faun by the name of Philomel. In Philomel Drys found the passion and the strength to continue on, she found the power and ability to fight where others would not. And she found the love of an earth-spirit, the other race Drys had helped to make, and thus she blessed the faun with her power, devotion and love. She gave her strength, and gave her magic, and in time she gave her a gods-be-damned, flightless but not failing, rock and earth dragon.

A dragon who was currently bursting from the very ground that the behemoth squid was upon.

It started as a crack. A rumble. And in a matter of seconds the earth split hard into two. Spilling from the ruined, and still damp, cavern floor, Delath the mighty reared out his ugly head. Twenty metres from nose tip to tail he stood as brown and mottled as the colours of the earth. His claws were like daggers, crushing into the ground, and his maw was open, hungrily tasting the air before his inevitable battle. From elsewhere within the cave he felt the presence of his mistress and guide, Philomel van der Aart, the One With The Hooves, and her ever present companion, the fox thing. Eyes darted around, spying mistress-sized figures running around beside and away from him, as he heaved out the rest of his body from the earth.

Now completely out of the rock, surviving the inexorably long journey under sea and through moutains, Delath twisted until he could see the monster before him. Its arms failed and its surviving eyes blinked, though it was clearly ill in some way as its skin was melting and turning into ... well. Black muck. Not the type of muck that dragons liked, for it wriggled and jiggled before him. Sharply, the earth dragon stomped a foot on one and it lightly went squelch! under it. Still there were more, spasming out from from the central kraken like angry hatchling spiders.

Delath considered what he could see, and what he knew. Though his intelligence was not like that of the master strategist Philomel he could still reason, and consider. He saw a battle before him, coming in and out of ability and winning, and it was not an easy one. It looked as though some fighters had already died. And they carried with them each a glowing sword of slightly different colours. They were the same shape, however, of that great blade that his mistress had pulled out of the monster rabbit not a short while ago.

A sword for a captain, for a hero. Delath swished his tail and let out a grumpy grunt, and then he saw a red-haired girl began to slip on muck. It was the same girl that he had seen in Philomel's mind before.

Right. So focus on her.

He nodded to himself, and then surged forwards. His maw opened once more, but it did not spill out a roar, or a tongue of flame. Instead it began to spew a cloud of mist. In that cloud of mist were tiny seedlings, and they - well they had a magic of their own. Like spores they would land on the closest material they could find - that being the tentacled beast here - and then begin to grow lavish vines that could bind and constrict. Some simple moments later (two seconds to be precise) flowers would then grow - flowers that would soon bloom a dust that would begin to eat savagely away at the very flesh of the mutating beast, eating it from the outside in.

First, however, before those flowers bloomed, Delath needed to get the girl away - and probably perhaps her slipping friend who was there also. That was easy - as he threw himself, and his deathly breath at the enemy, he raised a paw and swatted at the beings. They were freed with a single blow to their sides, likely sending them catapulting halfway across the cavern. But that would mean at least they were out of the way - and that was all he needed to do. After all, he was a dragon, and he knew how to handle existence. He knew the world needed him, with his proud heritage and glorious beauty. He was saving those two for his mistress. And that was it.


What Delath is supposed to look like. (http://pre08.deviantart.net/f929/th/pre/f/2009/221/c/a/earth_dragon_by_athayar.jpg)

[Hysteria]

Seph tried to pull his arm free of the thick mucus to no avail. His whole body was slowly pulled down the side of the beast. There were no other options, he had to launch himself away and trust he could manage the fall. Magic coursed through his body, shifting his physical form into a flash of darkness as he dashed directly out from the creature with a thick slurp as the mucus begrudgingly released its grip. For a moment, the rogue was in free fall, his arms out wide and his face caught in the illuminating crystals above. It was a moment of clarity as time seemed to slow. Seph looked up at the giant crystals above, and for the first time he noticed the slight sway. The faun’s reckless earth magic had driven the crystals close to collapse, perhaps a few knocks might just dislodge them.

The rogue pulled against his own magic, drawing five earthen fists from the air. Focusing his earth sense on the crystals, their structure and form, but most importantly, the cracks. The five fists shot towards them, smashing into the glowing formations in a shower of glowing sparks. With that rogue was left to fall into the waiting tentacles of the horrors below. Be braced himself, unsure if he had signed his death warrant. With a thud Seph hit the ground and the air was knocked from his lungs. He expected to be set upon instantly… but instead he found himself bouncing up and down. The rogue’s nightly pray to the Thayne of luck had paid off and he found himself upon the back of Delath. It may have been rather unceremoniously so, given his sprawled, backwards sitting on the creature’s back. At least, he thought as he held on for dear life, he hadn’t died.

High above the, perhaps temporarily, safe rogue the crystals started to fall. Large chunks of glowing rock smashed into the giant creature. The light magic of the mysterious crystals were suddenly thrust into the darkness of the creature, and neither liked it. The crystals burnt through the giant monster’s flesh. The creature would have perhaps been able withstand the barrage, but the large gaping wounds in the creature’s eyes offered the perfect purchase for the crystals to burn through the monster’s flesh.

The monster had been sustained in its assault, albeit slow. As the crystals burn through the giant’s head towards what constituted as its brain, the creature entered its death throws. Tentacles, larger than a human started to flail. They struck everything, the ground, the sides of the cavern, even the crystals upon the roof. They, and the falling crystals could all spell certain death for the warriors, only moments from victory.

[Jake Narmolanya]

The dragon sword vibrated with energy, and Jake's ethereal steed swelled and then burst in a wave of green light. It washed outwards in all directions, cleansing the fatigue from Jake's muscles and offering its healing energies to any of his allies within a twenty yard radius. Long vanished, and Jake dropped to the ground behind the monster as the earth split and a mighty dragon loomed out of the rift.

Going against all of his natural instincts, Jake turned and fled the scene of the battle between the two titans. He dodged shards of falling crystal and rock, and then dove into a hollow where to large boulders leaned against one another. His green eyes peered out of the dark space, slightly shaking hands still clutching the dragon sword's hilt. Sharp crystals peppered the ground, shattering on the stones that protected him and piercing the unprotected flesh of the behemoth that still menaced the crystal warriors. Its thrashing tentacles lashed every which way, but Jake had found a safe space within the confines of the rocks.

The half elf shook with waning adrenaline, his legs threatening to give out. Long had temporarily dispelled his fatigue, but it was still there, clinging to the contours of his very bones. Jake swayed and sunk to a seated position as crystals rained down all around him. What about the others? What about Amari? He struggled to crawl out of his miniature cavern but a falling stone sealed him inside.

What now? The half elf wondered, there's nothing I can do, and I'm trapped in this... The dragon sword suddenly began vibrating again, and a soft green glow filled the protective cave. Jake gripped the sword in both hands as the glow surrounded him, and then he was gone.

The familiar feeling of teleporting over a great distance comforted Jake, and then he found himself seated on the floor of the shop where he'd been arguing about the dragon blade. The proprietor looked down at him in shock, and despite his own confusion, Jake stood up sharply.

"See?" He demanded, "I told you it was bloody well magic!"

[Philomel]

Like twinkling, glistening, dazzling rain, the crystals fell.

Beneath them the small collection of mentally linked beings took in a collective sigh. The mighty earth dragon, his form facing against the kraken opponent, his breath beginning to burn deadly skin abrasions into the dark flesh, rolled up his deep brown eyes as the world shuddered. Many times had he faced the catastrophic convulsions that his lady, Philomel, could sent through the earth - but this was different. This was not subjective, angled or determined. Instead, this thundering disturbance filled the entire cavern and the crystals began to fall.

Swift as a coursing river, the mighty dragon closed his maw and twisted around. Leaving his vines to continue to flourish and produce spores that would in turn produce more flowers, and then remain until they were physically ridden off, spewing more and more of this deadly red perrenial blossom. Hissing, savagely devouring whatever flesh it came to.

Front paws working hard, and mouthing opening once more to begin directly eating the rock before him, Delath shoved his form into the earth of which he was formed. He had come, but now time was of the attitude that he should go, at least to a hundred feet safety where the peace could be found. The crystals - he new not what they were, or what power they possessed but their size spoke of fatal and destructive properities, neither which he deemed necessary to endure. After all, he had done what he had needed to, and come to the surface to hinder to some extent the beast that had been threatening the lives of his companions. Now he would flee, and wait. Wait until the quaking had passed and once more fate could allow him to banquet upon the eyes of this horror.

Not far away, Philomel watched as her transcendent weapon fled of his own will. Graciously, the faun accepted his decision, knowing full well that he was a dragon and could never fully be tamed. He at least had the power of instinct, strong enough to bade him dive to safety from these falling gemstones. Philomel and Veridian was another quesitons however - they had merely the covering of a static rock and it did nothing in way of providing immediate shelter. A simple teleport would hardly solve any direct issues, as far as she could remember the crystals were present over the entire cavern roof.

Therefore, any time taken to use the earth portal would be of little avail.

The answer came strangely and somewhat bemusingly. Naked after her tirade as the Dire Goat Born of Instinct, Philomel found that her hand rested upon the hilt of the Rabbit Sword, once more mysteriously appearing with her. Its white blade shone in the shimmering light of the crumbling crystals, iridescent to the sight and boldly radiating. Before it had come, unspoken, to her aid, twisting vines around her body to instensify her althetics. Now, she mused, it might do the same. Delath was fast making his escape, and shards that were light were already smashing into the ground. The heavier pieces - like a shaking boulder directly above Veridian's nose, would surely crush them to death.

Desperately, Philomel grabbed the sword, and held it above her head. Into her will she poured her desire to survive, her longing to protect those most dear to her.

Protect them ... Protect my darling -

Suddenly, from the point of the upturned sword burst dozens of moss green small rabbits. They hopped unnaturally into the air, spiralling into existence from the blade. More came, a sea of them like a tsunami that caused their numbers to head into the hundreds, then into the thousands as they headed straight into the sky, and came to the contact of the crystals. Just as they touched these, the shapes seemed to merge together, blossoming out like Delath's fire, and the dark squelches of dire consequences, knitting a tight hold over the crystals threatening to descend. More came, fluttering in a wonderous array and stopping the falling sparkling stone in its tracks. As they kept coming, the mossy cover expanded out, creating a crystal-formed dome over the top of the faun and fox, until gently they stopped coming and -

The crystals, halted in their direction, began to slip down and crash to the ground. Down the round of the dome, down away from the heads of the blanketed mistress and earth-spirit. They smashed with light crrsshhh-shinnggs to the rock beneath, shattering into pieces - but then they were already far enough away from Philomel and Veridian, caused so by the mossy cover. From underneath it, Philomel could see a hazy green world, light barely getting through, but streaking as sunshine would through trees of a spring forest, holding this peace and this silence until the world was alive with the sound of the tinkles and crashes.

Her breath held. She stared around, sword still up even though the swarm had by now long stopped. Gently, she breathed in and her slate-grey eyes met the golden ones of her beloved and she felt, calmly, strongly ...

Oh my.

[Storm Veritas]

The flailing of the great monstrosity was deafening as Storm and Orshi backpedaled, slashing near blindly at the noodly appendages of doom. The beast was insufferable, immense, unyielding. Others seemed to be moving, disappearing, assaulting the core. Delath had arrived with aplomb, shaking loose more of the heavy shimmering crystals upon the inken abomination. Sweating, bleeding, the warriors reeked of desperation.

“The hell do we get out of here? Think I can blow a hole in the wall?” Storm’s tone was questioning, uncertain, and weak. He feared this cave would be the end; it felt inevitable. Despite his age, the wisened Master Orshi shared his pessimism.

“Unless you can blow a hole in a goddamned mountain, I doubt it. Keep fending off the tentacles; believe in Amaleh.”

If there is a God, or Gods, she sure as shit ain’t lookin’ out for me, old man…

Within a moment, the wizard deflected a massive tentacle with a makeshift shield in the form of the chestplate he had liberated. Suction-like force grabbed the armor and tore it from his grasp, as though it were flicking a small bug from summer-warmed skin. The power was preposterous, the time fleeting.

Shit, there goes my ride.

He had backed into the wall behind him, feeling the unyielding, slime-coated rock of the cavern. Spreading his hands wide, a soft hum begat the wall as he looked hard to his left. Upon the rock wall, his hand had pressed through what appeared to be wet granite. Like ripples of water upon a still pool, a glowing pulse of white and luminescent blue and purple popped to life, humming with energy.

“Holy shit!” The exclamation of Master Orshi nearly knocked Storm to the ground. It wasn’t every day an aged monk defied death and found a portal upon the end of his days.

The constant barrage of tentacles was paralyzing; there was nowhere for the tandem to move. The Rat spun wildly and furiously through the air, cleaving tiny bits and keeping the relentless assault mildly at bay. They were only feet from the newfound portal, but could not turn their backs for the moment to dive.

“Blast that big sonofabitch one time for me and let’s go!” The great monk was at his wit’s end, speaking in tones he hoped the wizard would digest more easily.

The f*ck is this coming from, old man? Maybe you’re okay after all.

“Cover me. Just a second.” Storm began collecting energy in his right hand, a mighty spinning orb of white and blue. Orshi was kicking, clawing, slashing and tearing at the tentacles before the electromancer.
Amaleh, save me.

A single blast erupted once more from the mighty wizard, rocking the ceiling of the great cavern once more. Crystals, already shaken loose from the work of Delath, continued to fall en masse at the titanic enemy. Recoiling for a second, the monk and the mage dove through the portal, which closed with a hiss… pop.


~~~

“You get breakfast? Wait, sugar, what’s going on!?”

The well-heeled whore Storm had ended his evening with was sitting up in bed, her nose and cheeks red from a recent overserving of red wine. Soft alabaster skin was quickly covered with a bedsheet as the two warriors entered the tavern bedroom together, Storm covered in only sweat pants, fresh wounds, and slime. The monk looked wildly at the girl, and again at his newfound companion, unsure of what to make of the whole ordeal.

“Friend of yours?” The old man began to regain his pious judgment, casting a leering glare at the wizard who had saved him only moments before.

Gazing down as the sword he grasped scratched at the hardwood floor below, Storm considered how to escape his new predicament. His options were looking far more reasonable, all-be-they no less absurd.

[Rayleigh]

All hell broke loose.

From her place on the ground, distracted by the trembling earth and approaching minions, Josette was not entirely sure what caused the chaos. It may have been the massive rabbit, and the equally massive crack it carved into the cavern floor. It may have been the mighty bellow of rage that the warriors ripped from the tentacled nightmare. Or, it may simply have been something else entirely, as mysterious and nonsensical as this entire experience had been. She had been whisked away from her cheap room, and thrown into a battle demons. One had been covered in tentacles, one had been invisible, and one had nearly swallowed an entire lake. Her sword had summoned a flaming horse, and she had actually ridden it. The knight cast a sideways glance at the steed, who watched her with gold-flecked eyes. Arianne's eyes. No, why would Josette assume that anything in this place had a logical explanation?

Regardless of the cause, the crystals that dangled precariously far above her began to shudder. Then, with groans and cracks that echoed too loudly in the great chamber, they broke free. The crystals did not twist or stumble as they fell through the air. Rather, it was with the certainty of a dagger plunging into flesh that the shards struck the beast. And again, the beast screamed. This time, it was a wail of pain.

Unfortunately, the behemoth's screams were joined by those of its attackers. The crystals plummeted with no regard for who stood beneath them Though the monster appeared to finally meet its doom, the mere mortals who surrounded it faced the same fate. So they fled, some lunging through portals, others merely sprinting toward the cave's distant mouth. As a woman who lacked the ability to "magic" her way out, Josette opted for the latter.

Even Ma, the wise and patient mare, was nickering a low warning by the time her charge neared. "Will you not vanish on me?" Josette asked of the equine, who had nothing to offer in response. The knight did not allow her the opportunity anyway, clambering atop her back even as the mare began moving forward. Together, they cantered away from the dying beast, and toward the light that promised safety. Josette could not say in which region, or which world, they would emerge. Yet as the crystals continued to fall, a closing curtain on a stage of violence and carnage, she decided wherever she ended up would be better than what she left behind.

(Note: This was meant to be posted on the "Josette" account! Apologies!)

[Philomel]

The rabbits began to shimmer and fade to nothing. Their coats, a vibrant mixture of greens and browns, began to darken and seemingly merge with all the shades of the cavern. Vines weakened, bonds became undone, receding smoothly back into the mammalian bodies that they had spread from. Slowly the dome that had covered them from the destruction of the world began to dissapate, and for once the two beings caught beneath its protection could see what was left of their small cavern existence.

The crystals that had met the swarm had slid down and crashed, to create a ring around them of glittering, white-blue shards. The rock that had provided some protection whilst Philomel had recovered stood itself, alone amongst the wreckage, a sprinkling of iridescence upon it. Eyes wandering slowly around, slowly seeing as the rabbits themselves merged back into the upturned blade and negitive reality, the faun and the fox took in what was, and what had finally ended.

Silent as the grave, the splattered remains of the behemoth kraken and his black, squelching kin littered the craggy landscape. From jagged wall to boulder embankment globules of the thick, jet liquid oozed, were splattered and lay. Sharp daggers of crystals pierced the hide of the monstrous beast, quelling it to death, and still stuck outwards from its flesh, making a serrated, rugged, barbed crown that stuck into the sky.

Slowly the Matriarch breathed in, taking in her surroundings, and even dared a smiled. Her arms lowered, letting the not dully glowing blade settle back to the ground. She could feel, deeper into the earth, Delath recoiling, swirling and observing, waiting for her to depart. It made her pause, and think: now that the battle was over, where were they supposed to go? What were they supposed to do? They had arrived in a form of teleport to this cavern, now uplit by an eerie presence of splintered fragments, by way of summoning, of teleport. Biting the inside of her lip she began to search around for some clue of where in Althanas they might be - the idea being not suitable for the duration of this potentially murderous war - and a potential way out. A dark door, a narrow vestibule, anything that would signify -

Philomel.

Looking down she saw Veridian, and in his mouth was a strap of her chestplate. Frowning, she remembered little of taking it off, but realised then that it was gone, and she was in fact naked from the top down. Her mind drifted to faint memories of running around as the dire goat of destruction and realisation settled in.

Ah, thank you, she said, leaning down to take the item from her beloved.

Veridian gave a small nod once his mouth was free. And ...

He leapt back a little, to reveal the carefully folded presentation of her belt, fabric combined there, and all weapons combined. It was given with hilts pointing towards her, and the rock behind, possibly having been there all this time but lost in the distraction of the events.

Where did you find that? She asked.

Near here, he said in a pleased voice, Your drakescale protection near the squid-beast, these, he nosed the weaponry, Just here. If I remember rightly the Storm one had them once you transformed, and put them here.

Indeed? Philomel arched an eyebrow as she reached to also take up the bundle. How very kind of him. Is he still here?

He seems to have disappeared already, Veridian said with a note of curiosity, As have a few others, including the suicidal red-haired girl. She jumped right into the belly of the monster, did you see?

I did, Philomel frowned a little, as she pulled on her belt, once more wrapping the familiar weight on her hips and waist. It was pleasing to feel such, to know the recognisable burden. She was enraged after Shinsou ... died? Went? Something ...?

Just as her heart began to grow heavy from the rememberance of his possible doom, and one of the initial reasons for her raging states, Philomel broke off, a look of unease coming to her face. If he was gone, it was certainly something to despair of. After all he had been a good friend, a decent associate, a -

The world suddenly began to shimmer. The very light began to twist, and fade. As the thoughtful faun pushed the rabbit blade into her belt, there was a strong smell of forest was in the air, a breeze that hit her suddenly and angrily. It was cold, colours twirled before her and Veridian and then -

She looked up, blinking and gasping. Eyes glancing down she saw the fox beloved beside her, looking equally confused as they found themselves back on top of the wall of the Gilded Lily's fortress. The breeze that had blown in their fur, filling it with such hope had returned, the pulsating sun feeling fresh onto their flesh. A great fire was in the courtyard, women of all forms and races were walking, smiling, enjoying in the summer sun; it was if none had noticed. No one had seen Philomel and her earth-spirit companion vanish under the summer heat, to be whisked away to a place of doom and near-death. Possible death if one counted Shinsou.

Slowly, the wind died, the gust becoming a breeze, then settling down to peaceful harmony. The rabbit blade, once intense with light was now a simple white slice, a piece of creation and adventure that soon would be just part of Philomel's erratic life. Memories, thoughts and regrets pounded around the faun's head, along with confusion, as she gazed at her small empire, realising that all this was still hers. Despite what had just occurred, despite the fact that Shinsou -

Barrooom, she felt the twirling of Delath deep in the moutain side, beneath her feet.

So he had come with them after all. And there was the soft brush of Veridian's tail against her leg. That was good. They were good things. They had faced death together, and now they were home from the mysterious cavern, all in one piece - except the odd broken bone. And Veridian's life almost fading. But that was neither here or there. For in truth, the earth-spirit was immortal.

[Hysteria]

The crystals continued to fall. Tons and tons of the glowing rocks smashed into black liquid and creature alike. The warriors fled the carnage as their swords activated and teleported them away. There was no such escape from the creature. It screamed. It howled. Eventually it would die. Not now however. A mortal wound had been dealt, but a creature of the size and dark power would not slip away like a person. It would dissolve, and every moment would be felt.

Far from the gigantic horror a small blackened form stirred. She had taken a lightning bolt to the face and was still smouldering. She reached for a small dark dagger near her, but stopped. Instead she pushed herself to her feet and stumbled towards one of the many tunnels that led away from cavern. Her single giant eye was streaked with red. She would not die, she would continue to evolve.

With that the first saga of the crystal swords drew to an end. The warriors were released, but a few questions remained. What of the other swords? There had been twelve, yet not all had been summoned. Did they remain somewhere? Further, what was the connection between the black liquid and the crystals? Natural enemies, or something deeper? Time would tell, but for now it was silent.


* * * *

Jake Narmolanya receives!

Long, the Dragon
Long, the dragon blade is one of the twelve zodiac crystal swords. The blade is an elegant green and the hilt a vibrant blue. Long’s element is wood. The weapon is a sword composed of a strange crystal the strength of mythril. Long has two magical effects:
Breath - The head of Long appears as a ghostly visage above the wielder. Long sprays the area in front of her with long, thin shards of wood capable of piercing flesh and leather. The damage done is fairly superficial, but the volume makes it potentially deadly. (Three uses)
Call - Long appears behind the wielder, her long green body floating effortlessly in the air for three posts. Anyone touching Long will heal minor wounds, such as cuts and bruises over a post. More more serious wounds will stabilise, but will need two full posts to heal. Fatal wounds will need three full posts to heal. On the second post Long can release her remaining energy and emits a healing aura. Any person or creature friendly to the wielder within twenty metres of Long will have minor wounds completely healed and more serious wounds stabilised. They will also recover some stamina. Long is not stationary, but she is slow. She can move at roughly the speed of a brisk walk. It is possible to ride Long. (Two uses)


Storm receives!

Shu, the Rat
Shu, the rat blade, is one of the twelve zodiac crystal swords. The blade is a clear sky blue with a golden hilt. Shu’s element is shallow water. The weapon is a sword composed of a strange crystal the strength of mythril. Shu has two magical effects:
Infiltrate - Shu appears as up to four small rats composed of water for four posts. While his combat abilities in these forms are limited to a sharp bite, he is linked to the wielder, allowing him to pass on what he is seeing to the wielder of his sword. This allows Shu to infiltrate buildings or similar places, and potentially open doors/locks (if it is physically possible for a rat). In battles Shu offers several additional pairs of eyes. This form is immune to poison and can fit into extremely tight places. (One use)
Hidden - Water from the blade bursts out as a mist and covers the user. For three posts the wielder is hidden from sight. Even the keenest of eyes fail to see through the blades magic. The water even softens the footfalls of the wielder. This can be uses for a combined three posts. Attacking does not cancel the effect of the blade.


Mari receives!

She, the Snake
She, the snake blade, is one of the twelve zodiac crystal swords. The blade is a burning light red with a black hilt. She’s element is a smouldering fire. The weapon is a sword composed of a strange crystal the strength of mythril. She has two magical effects:
Venom - The sword drips with thick red liquid for four posts that burns through anything it touches. Able to burn through leather and flesh easily, it weakens steel and is able to burn through on two strikes. Because the sword drips acid it is possible to flick a few drops at a target for some painful superficial damage. (one use)
Bite - The blade of She turns into a snake, able to bend, twist, and most importantly strike. Any one bitten by She is injected with fire venom that burns below the skin and inflicts intense pain and eats away at the flesh for two inches around the strike. A bite to an arm can render it useless as the muscles are burnt away. A strike to the neck would be deadly. She can inflict two bites a day stay in the snake form for as long as she has a bite left. The downside is that she is nearly useless as a sword in this form and loses her sharp edge. If she is struck while in this form she will revert to her sword form and lose one of her bites.


Josette receives!

Ma, the Horse
Ma, the horse blade, is one of the twelve zodiac crystal swords. The blade is a silver with a sheen of red and the hilt a burnt orange. Ma’s element is a raging fire. The weapon is a sword composed of a strange crystal the strength of mythril. Ma has two magical effects:
Gallop – The form of Ma is temporarily summoned and send galloping in a straight line for ten metres. Given her large body and speed, she can knock down or break through targets with huge force. Her fiery body will also burn on contact and leave a fiery blaze in her wake for two posts. (Three uses)
Ride - Ma is summoned from the blade in her full glory. She stands at 18 hands and in looks is very similar to a Clydesdale. The white on her legs have been replaced with rippling flames and her mane flowing fire. She can be ridden by her wielder and used both for her impressive speed but also brute force. She will last for four posts or until she takes moral damage. (one use)


Phi receives!

Mao, the Rabbit
Mao, the rabbit blade, is one of the twelve zodiac crystal swords. The blade is pure ivory and the hilt a bright green. Mao’s element is a sprouting plant. The weapon is a sword composed of a strange crystal the strength of mythril. Mao has two magical effects:
Kick – Green vines burst from the sword and wrap around the legs of the wielder. The vines are as strong as steel, and while they offer some protection, that is not their main function. Using the amazing tensile strength of the vines the user can kick and jump with tremendous force. A kick can smash steel with ease, while a jump can send her or him flying through the air two dozen meters. The vines may be summoned for a combined three posts.
Swarm - From the tip of the blade erupts a continuous swarm of rabbits made of moss. Once they have swarmed over everything for twenty metres in the direction they were cast they break apart and dozens of small vines burst from each one link them together. The resulting mass of plant matter is as strong as steel. Any unfortunate caught within will have a hard time escaping. (two uses)



The thread will now be submitted for judgement!

[Rayleigh]

Judgmet: The regrets of darkness (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?31996-The-regrets-of-darkness-Crystal-Swords-Battle)
Type: No Judgment

Hysteria (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?2481-Hysteria) receives 1,060 EXP and 140 GP.
Jake (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?5080-Jake-Narmolanya) receives 1,030 EXP and 110 GP.
Shin (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?18305-Shinsou-Vaan-Osiris) receives 590 EXP and 45 GP.
Phi (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?17225-Philomel) receives 1,760 EXP and 135 GP.
Mari (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?18816-Mari) receives 1,125 EXP and 100 GP.
Storm (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?23-Storm-Veritas) receives 1,835 EXP and 110 GP.
Josette (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?23-Storm-Veritas) receives 730 EXP and 100 GP.

[Rayleigh]

All rewards have been added. Congratulations to Hysteria on the level up!