-
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.
-
"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.
-
"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."
-
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.
-
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.
-
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.
-
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.
-
"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.
-
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?
-
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.