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Fantasy God of Lost Faith - The Storyline

Lore
Here
Camila Holycross
(no special formatting since your girl on mobile today)
Lo Mayn Lo Mayn LokiPokie LokiPokie TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity HTCOR HTCOR Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat

Berlin was healed. Camila watched her loyal servant rush into the heart of Hatch's battle, her eyes locked onto something else. Something that caused her pupils to dilate and bleed at the same time. The wind proved to be Camila's worst enemy as it flipped Hatch's loincloth upwards. Oh, the things she saw. Well, now she knew the phrase "egotistical men have small dicks" did not apply to Hatch.

Heavily considering stopping at the nearest monastery to be graciously blessed, Camila wondered if the monks might have a talisman to bring her sight back. Eons passed as the vampiric woman grappled with the daunting image within her mind. The goat's words barely reached her.

Guild members? Who cared if these strangers were guild members or not? What truly mattered was the man kneeling before Camila. Well, the whole faceplanting thing was close enough. Leaning down to pat the ruffled copper locks of her enemy, she whispered, "Yes, the wisest of words that have left your mouth so far. As you see, God has bestowed upon me the most holiness of gifts. Along with my immortal beauty, I tip the scales of life and death. Won't you pledge your loyalty and servitude to me? I wonder if I'll tip the scale right or left?"

Camila's attention was forced away by Berlin's motion to join the dispute. Begrudgingly making her way to the group, she crossed her arms as she watched the scene unfold. Berlin took the stance of a hero, only to be defied by Hatch. Did he believe a man of his stature could tame that barbarian? He's so cute when he tries.
"Why bother protecting these heathens? Tag or not, it doesn't make us friends." Pointing to the ginger satyr, Camila would add, "Except for that one. I want to keep him." A devilish grin crossed her face.
 
Hatch
Hatch.png

Not enemies? Did the knight think that meant anything? The pounding sensation of where the apple had met his temple was still clear in his mind, and as his adversary continued to pretend that the fight was over, the bubbling sense of frustration washed over Hatch. His image of power and charm had been dragged through the mud, trampled on without any thought, and yet Sonos prattled on as if everything was to be swept under the rug like it never existed. This was no simple grudge, it was a vendetta. By the time Hatch had worked this all out in his mind, the press of a chilled hand had crept its way over his heart, the transfixed glare of hate morphing into one of disgust.

What stood before him was a being that had no right to exist. Three fiendishly golden orbs illuminated against corpse-like skin, demanding for Hatch to start a problem. Their physique beckoned the idea of a womanly figure that was corrupted by a heinous animal, the smell of rancid sweat filling his nostrils. Maybe that was his smell, though. Ultimately a horrific sight, all the fighter could do was push her hand away, his mind struggling to comprehend the image he was beholden to. He hadn't caught what she said previously, his thoughts in another world, but her assertive approach only stoaked the fire in his soul. This one, too, wanted a match with the unbeatable Hatch. At least, that's what he believed before the abomination turned tail and ran off to assist her companion.

Berlin must've picked up on his aggravation, for when Hatch went to reinstate the one-sided battle with a raised fist, he was halted by the minuscule presence of the man. The attempt to stop him was nothing more than a bug trying to overpower an elephant. For Hatch, however, it was a cry of superiority. The timid and stupidly feeble kin of his was, once again, pretending to be a hero. On what moral high ground was he picking this time? In what world was it acceptable to have mercy on belligerent attackers? It may have been his plan from the start, but Berlin was successful in drawing out Hatch's fury solely towards him. "HATCH, YESSSSSSSS."

A knee came crashing into Berlin's chest, his body curling forward. At the same time, Hatch's free hand latched itself around the mage's neck, hoisting him into the air. The silver-haired man was too busy catching his breath to muster even a kick in retaliation. In a low, raspy voice, Hatch spoke. "Do not speak to me as if you're worth something, you freak. Order me around one more time and I'll kill you where you stand." Seeing the faint flicker of a spark igniting in Berlin's palm, the feral beast threw him to the floor, Berlin landing on his feet similar to a cat. He coughed once or twice, but the blow they took was minor at best.

This is all too much bother, Hatch thought, walking off before he truly lost his cool. The wound on his hand had refused to heal, leaving an uncomfortable dampness when he tried to close it. The battle with Sonos left him worse off than he previously gave credit for. As his body began to return to normal, all of the aches and pains returned as well. Itches were scattered across his body where the paladin's sword had touched and the excitement from the battle had turned him away from the exhaustion building within his muscles. For a second, the thought of Camila came to mind, but he was prepared to die before asking her for any help. Instead, he fought through it, picking up the three bags he had left and swinging them over his shoulder with little concern for the strain it had on his body. He was ready to forget everything that happened and embark on the journey once more, but as he readied himself for the hours of travel that he was destined to go through, his toe rammed into something warm and smooshy; something alive.

"Gafoo~"

"Ga- what the fuck?" Looking down, he saw the Silen pile, wriggling and writhing in an existential crisis that Hatch had no hope of understanding. Whatever it was, it took a similar appearance to the monstrosity from earlier. With another grind of his toe, the goat-child voiced himself again.

"Pañoh~"

Looking back, he overheard what Camila said concerning the hairy manbaby. For what reason did she want to keep this thing around? Then it clicked. It was so obvious that the berserker hadn't realized it. With a closer look at the more . . . animalistic parts of Silen, there was no doubt in his mind. The tender calves and mouth-watering thighs said it all. She wanted to cook him for later. It made sense since the fresher the meat, the better the taste. In a hasty motion, Hatch wrapped his arm around Silen's torso, placing him on the shoulder bereft of knapsacks. This may have been the first good idea Camila has had since birth. Wiping away the excess drool seeping from his mouth, Hatch piped up to the rest of the gang.

"Walk and talk, you fucking turtles. I don't have all day." Taking to the right path, he pushed on, with or without the team.

NyxNightmare NyxNightmare HTCOR HTCOR LokiPokie LokiPokie Lo Mayn Lo Mayn Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat
 
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Sonos

"...I think I just got knocked upside the head a lot harder than that Hatch fellow hit, because I think I just heard such a concentrated amount of dumbassery that I saw Silen's soul die." Awe and surprise dazed him more than the hit to his head did. He gripped Shibala's arm, yanking himself up to his feet, as he looked at the white haired man with such an expression of 'Are you okay' that it would even get through to Silen- and that man was blind.

"So...let me get this straight. You have the ability to disguise yourself as an Agent, didn't think twice about it, and have the intelligence to insult someone else for not having their Guild Tag in the open?" There was nothing short of sheer confusion in his voice, as he pointed to the pair of Guild Tags that Berlin wore. "You're wearing two tags. Only idiots and Agents do that."

A deep breath, as Sonos made his way to Silen. "Shi'bala, please remind this idiot that opening your mouth and proving yourself the biggest dumbass this side of the Leven Kingdom deserves a medal of it's own. Please." He'd crack his shoulder once with a roll of his arm, before he grabbed the back of Silen's shirt, and pulled the poor Satyr away. "...Silen, I'm going to leave this choice to you. We can decide to go with them, or we can let them get killed by a higher ranked party for the sake of mutual amusement."

_________________________​

Alyssa, garments bloody, her face paled, leaned against the overturned carriage. The battle had been swift- one side had decimated the other so easily that it was almost like watching a play where gods fought men. The area was littered with fallen merchants and guards, and Alyssa was the sole one there- her breaths were ragged. But the sound of sheer amazement of some man's voice could be heard- perhaps a few hundred yards away. She weakly cried out, trying to get attention from the party of folks- hopefully they weren't Agents.

Hopefully.

Yet, a brute of a man was visible in the distance- wearing naught but a cloth around his waist, he was the epitome of Grecian Marble...and perhaps, she would be saved by him.

TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity
NyxNightmare NyxNightmare
Lo Mayn Lo Mayn
LokiPokie LokiPokie
Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat
 
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Shibala'Negi

The event that just occurred before Shibala’s eyes both confused and irritated the girl. She was used to being called an abomination, but a towering pactborn wearing nothing but a bit of cloth clearly couldn’t see past his pride to realise his existence is just as ‘evil’ and ‘profane’ as hers. What’s worse was the fact that Sonos was quite suddenly willing to tag along with these people. Two pactborn, one a coward the other power drunk idiot along with a vampiress who was likely a raging narcissist like the rest of her kin. They were guild members sure, but tagging along with them likely wasn’t worth the irritance it would cause her.

Sonos hadn’t even asked for her opinion in the matter, which frankly offended her. It seems both her allies and her enemies had failed to meet her expectations. Pushing the matter to the side, she figured it was fair to issue some gratitude to the foolish albino, whose skull she had quite recently been trying cave in. He had stepped in to keep her and the lanky caveman from getting into a scuffle, one which even she had to admit would likely end poorly for her. A sharp whistle came Berlin’s way as the pale demon approached him, her fists at her side rather than racing for his face.

“Thank you for taking those hits in my place. Would’ve preferred if you stood your ground like that against me...”

The woman’s face was no longer veiled by glimmering crimson and beneath was the visage of a rather...uncannily pretty woman. Her skin was as pale as his, utterly free of blemishes save for what could only be assumed as the traits of whatever strange heritage she hailed from. Four horns, three eyes and two strange grooves running down her face. Her face was one he’d likely wish to examine a little longer, to pick out all the little details. But once she spoke, she turned from him and pursued her companions.

TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity NyxNightmare NyxNightmare HTCOR HTCOR Lo Mayn Lo Mayn LokiPokie LokiPokie
 
Silen
soy boy.png
thank you for the character portrait, nyx

After the fall, Silen felt airborne again. Voices and visions swayed around him as did the leaves of the forest, in such a way that he was only vaguely aware of their collective movement. Images of warring giants spun about as though, at that moment, the world entirely revolved around him. If there were to be any heroic selection, he seemed to be the choice meat of the surrounding beef. He was no chevon, but he could not ignore that he had the legs of a whole horse. When he began to stir from his tumbling, a toe, more large and foul than any he had suckled ever before, found its way between his trembling lips. He made an attempt to speak his objection to this intrusion, but the wind was knocked out of him by a sudden kick to his sternum. The most he could muster then, after such a brutal fondling, was a weak gust that emptied his lungs. As his peripheral sight became engulfed by flickering lights, he momentarily felt himself thrusted into a higher realm of being. An invisible force appeared to carry him through a crowd of humming colors before a friendly hand pulled him aside from the deathly path. The turtles were trying to abduct him. Had he stolen their souls before? They looked to him for answers that he had clearly lost.

“Thank you for taking those hits in my place,” one said, its voice echoing.

Any time, he thought. A sacrifice was necessary. Maybe someone else could protect him for the time being. As if conjured by this very sentiment, a broken hand encroached his dream, coiling fingers like columns around his form. It rent him from the familiar, pulling him back onto the path approaching a final scene. A curtain in the distant wood seemed ready to fall like a guillotine.

Interacted: TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity
Mentioned: Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat
Vaguely conceptualized: HTCOR HTCOR NyxNightmare NyxNightmare Lo Mayn Lo Mayn
 
Berlin_Defined.jpg

Berlin A. Malkuth
“Playing”
Why? Berlin asked himself the simplest question. Why? His own actions had confused him. Playing white knight, or more aptly named, hero, wasn’t at all his plan. Yet, here he was, throwing himself at the human equivalent of a toddler in an orc meat suit for the same people who recently tried to kill him. As a swift knee rose for Berlin’s stomach, the slight bitterness of regret began to creep in. Hatch knocked Berlin’s breath out of him before picking him up by the neck as if he was nothing but a puppy.

The demon released his usual threats and bad breath before catching sight of the flames building in both of Berlin’s hands. It wouldn’t be the best situation for either of them, engaging in a full-on fight again. Especially with Hatch hurt and Berlin freshly healed, Berlin hoped it’d be enough to get through to Hatch’s empty cavern of a skull. Luckily enough, it had.
Dropped to his feet, Berlin landed well. He reclaimed his lost breath as the demonic man marched away, seemingly annoyed. Whatever the reason, at least Berlin could say, no one else got hurt on his watch. Though, the feeling of proudness evaded him. Instead, he’d very much prefer to hide away in a corner somewhere as nearly all eyes fell on him.

Camila approached and asked him a question.
"Why bother protecting these heathens? Tag or not, it doesn't make us friends."

By all virtues, she was right. Why bother? They weren’t friends, hell; they were barely minutes away from enemies. It would've been smarter to simply let Hatch rage on, demolishing the other heroes, but as Shibala approached him, Berlin formed an idea. The four-horns, three-eyed, two-strange grooved, demon woman spoke chilling words. She stated words of gratitude, followed by a strange comment about his fighting style. Who would imagine that an attacker would dislike their victim evading them? Berlin acknowledged her with a nod, his eyes scanned her visage and quickly looked away.

As Shibala left, Berlin returned to Camila with an answer. Something said in a way, she might reason with.

“Tag does mean there may be consequences for our actions even if we were right in doing it.” He said. Berlin shuffled for a bit, his eyes glanced around before it settled onto her. “As well as, thank you for healing me.”

Berlin wished he could’ve said more, instead, he gave her a short bow and gestured for them to leave.
Berlin went down the right path, passing by Hatch playing tug-a-war with broken-jaw Sonos, the hero’s guild’s greatest idiot Berlin imagined. The temptation to stay and jeer Sonos, for messing with the man who’d happily place a fist into his skull, but Berlin let it pass. Hatch would catch up eventually, after all, he had yelled at them to get moving. If they hit a few more roadblocks, they might not make it to a safe place before nightfall, an idea Berlin hated.

Far ahead, the outline of smoke and a broken carriage appeared. Signs of an attack. A familiar view, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. He had no other path to go. His feet carried him into a slight jog.

What had happened?

Interacted: NyxNightmare NyxNightmare Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat
Mentioned: TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity HTCOR HTCOR LokiPokie LokiPokie
 
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Alyssa

The area was charred- fire spreading around the overturned carriage, as numerous corpses of both Agent and Merchant laid about. Some words would come true, some would not. Fools spoke no more. There was a singular caravan, shattered and destroyed.

The bloodied zone flickered with the essence of the remaining, an aura unmistakable to some. There was a falling Hero of some sort here, namely a blonde woman- her white garb covered in blood. Her hair was matted with crimson, dried in some spots, fresh in others, along with her chest heaving for air.

One of the trio seemed suspicious- bloodied, eyes crazed, lurking next to a massive muscular man- clearly a rogue nearby their brawler. Or perhaps a berserker near the Brawler, but alas. It mattered not. They would fall.

"Agents," She uttered, forcing herself into a standing position. "Agents raided this caravan, they've been in the area...plenty of them on the path ahead." She spoke to the white haired one who approached- her vision was hazy enough after all of the toxins that coursed through her system.

"Need guards to get back to the Leven Kingdom. Especially after the guards failed in their task of protecting the royal shipment." A distinct pause, followed by a hacking cough. "If you do not mind, I would pay you all grandly for bringing back to my estate." She glanced at the white haired one, her eyes travelling along the party- they weren't a proper party it seemed, making this all the better.

"Would be best to skirt along the Lost Woods, need to stay quiet though. Don't want to attract the locals there." She'd laugh weakly, her facade strengthening. She stood more properly, as she jerked a thumb to the woods to the east. "If that's fair, that is..." She tacked on, uncertain. As Berlin grew closer, he might note some things- the cloth on her stomach held no slash, and all of the dead were from slashes, or magical means. The smell of burnt flesh only grew stronger as he approached however, and he would note one thing. Her eyes were that of a predator.

Granted, Sonos would make his way along towards them as well, his features quiet as he listened. A mumbled word here and there as she spoke- incoherent, his eyes starting to daze again, before refocusing on the woman.

"Mhn." Was his one sound response, his spine shuddering at the look of all this. Something itched.

Lo Mayn Lo Mayn TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity NyxNightmare NyxNightmare LokiPokie LokiPokie Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat
 
[class=Notes] // Forward slashes are comments and do no show up in the final design, these are to help you find everything easily and explain some code as well. These comments must be with in a class or script tags in order to be hidden, from what I know// // Long URls are images # followed by letter and numbers are Hex codes or color codes.// // This code does not show breaks unless is shows the
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Camila | Interacting: Hutch much TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity Alyssa , Fireboy Lo Mayn Lo Mayn | Mentioned: Soyboy LokiPokie LokiPokie Goatwoman Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat Sonoso HTCOR HTCOR |
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Wait. Did Hatch agree with her for once? Maybe he wasn't so unreasonable after all. Camila smiled matter-of-factly, ready to embark on whatever journey fate set for them. She was eager to leave the rest of the odd strangers behind. Hatch flipped Silen over his shoulder like a sack of flour and attempted to escape, only to have their prize snatched back from them. It appeared that Sonos didn't take lightly to the kidnapping of one of his members. Before Hatch could reply, Camila stepped forward to glare at Sonos. "Unhand him. He's surrendered before me. Livestock isn't qualified to touch him. You'll sully him with your hands." She would have hissed the same to Hatch, but let's be real. A lady of her status shouldn't be bothered with carrying luggage. "Crush him, Hutch! And don't bruise the Soybean."

Allowing Hatch to resolve the dispute further, Camila focused her attention on Berlin. What was Shibala mumbling to him? Was she interested in her white-haired servant? He came shuffling up to Camila soon after their short conversation, offering his gratitude. Good. At least he's loyal. If only I could get Hatch to submit as well. "You might know your manners, but leave my side again, and I'll have to punish you." The sweet tone of her voice betrayed her sincere words. Smoke in the distance caught the attention of her comrades and enemies. Choosing to investigate the matter, Camila followed suit.
____________________________________________​

Rouge flames lapped up any remnants of the carriage. The carnage did little to phase Camila. Catching the last bits of the female soldier's request, she took it upon herself to bite the bait. Dissecting the woman's story for truth didn't occur to the vampire. Who would dare lie to her? "Help you? And what would we receive in return? Don't bother insulting me with riches. So, what does a damsel in distress have to offer?" Grazing a finger up the woman's neck, Camila met her gaze evenly.

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Hatch
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The sudden jerk of Silen slipping off his shoulder caused Hatch's muscles to become taut. He imagined that his meal had woken up, squirming to free itself from his hold and escape with their life. However, as he turned to see if the lamb had indeed stirred awake, the sight of Sonos' boorish face came into view. Hadn't he beaten this punk up enough already? The knight hadn't thought so. As they continued to try and wrench Silen from Hatch's vice grip, they found it was like trying to steal a bunny from the jaws of a tiger. Of course, in that same moment, the despicable Bitch Witch™ had to make a debut. As she attempted to try and give Hatch a command, his nose flared, irked by her readiness to take over a situation that had nothing to do with her.

"Don't order me around, Dorothy," he had gotten her name completely wrong, "or else I'll bust your face up as much as I did to Captain Slackjaw over here." With a final pull, he had Silen propped back over his shoulder, the creature still as limp as a noodle. "And you need to fuck off and get your food from somewhere else, you no good fucking-" As he went to finish his slur of insults, it appeared Sonos had moved on to something else, pushing past him in a hurry. In a single grunt, Hatch voiced his annoyance, following after them. Before long, Hatch found out why Sonos had gotten into such a rush.

Even though he was the first to start walking, he ended up to be the last one to make it over to the mysterious crime scene. As the party made their way to some unknown blonde warrioress, Hatch forced his way to the front, towering behind Camila, who was already clinging to the outsider. "Move aside, slut. Nobody cares what you want." Using his hip to shove her aside, he now stood over Alyssa, eyeing her over with one sweep. If he wasn't mistaken, Leon had said something on how dangerous the Lost Woods were in a passing comment before they had left. He had warned the team on how monsters far above their skill-level resided in there. If what Alyssa proposed was true, there was a chance that Hatch was going to encounter a worthwhile challenge.

"Sounds fair enough to me. Lead the way, tramp," he said. If the rest of the team had a problem with what was happening, none of them had said it. As for Alyssa, she had been somewhat taken back by the forceful nature of the group, but as Hatch spoke, she regained her composure, slinking back into her previous decorum.

"Of course. Stay close, all of you. As long as you all stay behind me, we should be able to get out of the woods without a scratch," Alyssa said. As she began to head off the dirt path, Hatch followed along with everyone else.

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There was no sunlight where they were headed. Towering trees stretched for as far as the eye could see, and their roots protruded from the ground and wrapped around each other in a haphazardous fashion, causing each member of GOLF to watch their every step. There was little noise in the forest, the rhythmic beat of footsteps crunching over dead leaves being the only solace for the weary travelers. As they continued to go deeper, it felt as if the forest itself was alive, the trees swaying ever so gently as their trunks creaked in opposition towards the strangers entering their home. To say this place was ominous was an understatement.

The hairs on Hatch's neck stood on end, his body reacting to how a fox felt when met by a den of wolves. Is this fear? he asked himself, finding the concept preposterous. Every step felt like he was getting closer to signing his death warrant. Ahead of him, Alyssa had periodically slashed away at vines with a swish of her blade, creating clearings for the rest to follow. She moved with purpose, pursuing an invisible trail that nobody else saw. She knew the layout of this area, and yet Hatch thought nothing of it. His thoughts felt clouded as if some otherworldly power was preventing him to perceive things logically. And so, he kept onward, allowing Alyssa to be his only guide through this foreign landscape.

Time had lost itself to Hatch. With no way of knowing where they were going or how long it had been since they first entered, it felt like a millennium before the sudden sound of fighting came to his ears. First, it came at a low drone, no more than a few shouts and buzzing. As they got closer, however, the clear noise of blades clashing, magic casting, and people dying was ever-present. Before Alyssa had the chance to say anything, Hatch burst forward, blazing through the bushes and bramble until faced by one last hedge. Behind it, the sound of battle had died down. Was there a victor? Did they all die? His anticipation ate away at him before taking full control of his actions. With a single step, he moved past the hedge and into a clearing.

As his eyes adjusted to what had transpired, all he saw was . . .

NyxNightmare NyxNightmare HTCOR HTCOR Lo Mayn Lo Mayn LokiPokie LokiPokie Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat youngmanrhys youngmanrhys (finally)
 
Rhydian.jpg
Rhydian Garefs

Amidst the vast collision of memories lost, and emotions disrupted— confusion was the only constant that remained at his side, like the bothersome thorn of a rose that somehow welded its way into his thumb. Rhydian Garefs was no scholar, but rather, a marksman. One with gifts and a sense broad enough to know that his place in this world was one of unnatural nature. He lacked knowledge, of which was a privilege that had been so cruelly stripped away from his person, and now here he was forced to survive in an environment so incredibly foreign.

The memories he had regained over the past month told him as much, though the visions that had returned to him were scattered in nature; tattered by some ripple in time that mislead him even further of who he was or why he was there. Fragments of a lost past however were not completely useless— it confirmed the facts for him that this was not the land nor time he once knew.

Though that begged the ultimate question, where was he then?

Each and every day he found himself pondering over the same, dreadful question that offered no purpose other than as a mere meaningless distraction. It was pitiful, truly, and he knew that well— but his mind in this world was clearly not his to control. Something other than he had a hold onto everything that defined him, and he hadn't been alone in that piss-poor predicament. Three others had awakened alongside him with similar circumstances; all dressed in attire from areas or maybe even timelines that he wasn't familiar with.

Rhydian's thoughts appeared to be running rampant in the dew-filled morning, so much so he had given a deep reflection upon his crew, and attempted to relate himself to the lot of them as if he could ever belong within their ranks. Time itself was brutal to his persona— affection that had developed for those he could never truly coexist alongside. Unlike most others he met, and even those he woke alongside with— he held the strange desire to protect not only them, but the people that had supposedly drawn him forth into this literal wasteland of a world. Fondness and care were dangerous traits for one to have, especially for a man of his talents. He sighed deeply, then proceeded to deem himself the ultimate fool while he shifted his body against the verdant grass. The man rolled to his side and let a few fingers trace along the upper limb of a bow to where an arrow would normally rest, gradually relaxing as he felt the sturdiness of the weapon. Compared to most other archers he had seen, he was more well off with quality. An ipe wood make, reinforced by steel components that helped maintain its durability and overall sturdiness— perhaps the greatest, and likely only gift he ever received from The Guild.

"I don't think I've ever seen you without a dreary look on your face, it's depressing."

A captivating, melodic voice that belonged to Miranda Elsgrove, who was perhaps the largest contrast in comparison to he, from mere speech down to the chosen wear of her garments and even color of hair. The darkest violet, complemented by ruby-red wristbands and incredibly revealing clothing of denim fabric that tugged at her bottom. Admittedly Rhydian felt uncomfortable staring at her for longer than a few moments. She had approached him with a cocky bounce in her step and paused at his feet, then narrowed her crimson gaze upon his figure. "Why are you up so early anyway, Rhyd-y?"

A loathsome nickname, and naturally he scoffed the minute those vile syllables left her lips. "Relaxing," and that was all he said before sitting upright with a look of defeat smitten on his visage— bothered by her mere presence. Though his shortness and crude behavior had never been enough to push her persistence away; instead she carved a half-flirtatious smile his way. Fuel to his annoyance.

"You are relaxing out here? I'm sure there's more comfortable places like my—"

"I prefer the comfort of nature." His voice elevated slightly, the saving grace to prevent any inappropriate advances.

Miranda opened her mouth to say more, but the rhythmic sounds of metallic armor shuffling replaced any words she desired to say. Both Miranda and Rhydian's head jerked towards its direction, only for their eyes to be met with an incredibly tall and fine knight. Armor of elegant, high-grade steel, with a halberd harbored upon his back. Within the crook of his right arm was a helm being carried, and of course that allowed his bald head to glisten in the sunlight's shine. A toothy grin greeted the couple, followed by a twitch of pointy ears, a hearty laugh and words similar in nature.

"You torture our fair lady far too much, Sir Garefs."

"Sir is for men far more proper than I, and lady only applies to those that keep their bodies tucked from the common eye, rather than letting breasts ring free for all lookers to gaze upon."

Her cheeks brightened to a tinted pink, and the craftiest smirk broadened in her face. "I didn't realize you stared, Rhyd-y! How embarrassing…!"

Irritation bloomed upon Rhydian, "You and Haygriff were summoned to be a bother to me, it seems." To which they both continued to respond with giddy grins, but alas the archer gently shook his head. "What brings you here, elf?"

Proud as he was, Axel puffed out his chest and patted a closed fist over his heart, "Lord Nobunaga instructed me to gather the lot of us together. It appears he has another assignment for us to partake in."

"Already? We performed three assignments just yesterday."

"According to him, this assignment is larger than any we've taken before." Haygriff then narrowed eyes at the bronze dog tag that swayed about on Rhydian's neck, "Besides, you need the rank-ups and essence from these quests. You can't keep handing us off your rewards to us. Eventually you're going to fall behind, no matter how skilled you are."

"He's right, I wouldn't want my big, strong man to not be able to protect me anymore! Hehe!" Miranda would giggle, and whether he wanted to or not, it did make Rhydian smile slightly— though of course, emotions of that nature were temporary for one such as him.

However acts of flirtation weren't enough to distract him from the task at hand. Another expedition so soon was very unlike Oda. The man typically was diligent enough to understand that even skilled individuals like themselves needed days to rest too, especially with the mix in strength of those he called comrades. For now, Rhydian made the appropriate decision to push aside worrying thoughts until the man of honor himself presented the information before him— if only his impatience didn't tickle his nerves like so.

"I see Haygriff gathered you all in one spot, excellent!"

Yet another voice, this one beholding a tone quite lax, lacking the bass of both the knight and he in his voice. Rhydian hadn't noticed the steady approach of the stranger, but when his attention shifted the way of the beckoner it was none other than Oda Nobunaga himself. He was dressed in sleak, smokey-colored robes that held lined patterns on the sleeves that were foreign to Rhydian's trained eye. Wrapped around the waist of him was a scabbard the shade of midnight, a traditional weapon of warriors known as the samurai— or so Nobunaga had said.

"A fine morning to you, Rhydian."

"It would be if my nap hadn't been so cruelly interrupted." A curved retort from the archer, but despite his straight face— Oda knew Rhydian well enough to understand dry humor, and like past friends they embraced in a brief handshake and nodded to one another with respect.

“Hah! I suppose the lot of us are drawn to your presence then, I hope you can forgive us.” It was strange seeing Nobunaga act so casually in front of them all, and admittedly Rhydian was taken aback by his nonchalant speech. Questions that bothered him before once more took root at the tip of his tongue, yet his admiration for the man who lead them kept each word from spilling forth. Comparably to most men he had met, Oda held an eerie charisma about him that garnered those around him to follow. Perhaps it did not work on him, but at times… cooperation had been encouraged.

“This assignment, do you mind enlightening the lot of us what it entails? It’s bad enough you sent a hunk of scrap metal to deliver the message.” Miranda snorted, although Axel delivered a pout; at least one of his mates enjoyed the mild quip.

“I oughta take my damned spear and shove it up your a—”

“At ease,” commanded Oda, who took a firm position between the archer and the defender. Haygriff offered no resistance. Sometimes, Rhydian desired the ability to make him hush at will more than the recovery of his own memory.

“The Knight of the Forlorn, a Lost said to have been corrupted long, long ago. Powerful, and with that type of power comes great reward. There has supposedly been a report of his sighting somewhere within Lost Woods. I aim to lead us to victory in taking his head.”

Rhydian was speechless, and alarmed at the words uttered from Nobunaga. For a moment, the archer’s hickory eyes studied that of the samurai— there was not a doubt within his mind that he was serious about the assignment. Much had been left for his thoughts to wander with that mere bit of information; setting himself apart from Axel and Miranda who bore excitement in their eyes. Even though they lack the details, those two are compliant with anything so long as Oda says it. He shook his head, quite frustrated that once again it fell back on him to acquire more information about what they were truly getting involved with.

“I don’t intend to be rude, or place a sliver of logic on the joy you all have,” A blatant lie, “but where did this information even come from? Why would they request a novice group to handle a target so—”

“Rhydian!” whined Miranda, “You always ruin the fun! Let’s just have an adventure! With you and Oda at our sides, there’s not a fuckin’ thing that threatens us. Have a little faith, you know?”

“That’s a foolish ideal to hold in a world where we don’t even know ourselves, Miranda.” Rhydian snapped back, snarky, but she thoroughly enjoyed the aggression in his tone— her tongue swirling over ruby lips, but alas she didn’t speak.

“All valid points, and your reaction was precisely what I expected, Rhydian.” A slight grin broadened on Oda’s face, “From my research, the Knight of the Forlorn was an ancient hero who existed as one of the summons to this world. Somewhere along the way, he became corrupted and a servant to his own hatred and grief after a great loss. A killer of heroes and innocents, and that is precisely why we must take him down.

“Though, that isn’t the only reason, for his disturbance in the forest has lead to monsters steering away, and blocking the trade routes between villages. This can be problematic for our own town if we’re not able to obtain the resources we need. We as heroes are only as strong as our home. The paths will forever be blocked until he is dealt with— at least that is what a member of The Guild had told me.”

The Guild was the origin of such information, and bestowed such a dangerous task upon summons who have only a month’s knowledge of the world? That in itself didn’t sit well with Rhydian’s senses, but pride prevailed over the wisdom to outright decline the job offer; but the art of convincing the others go say no for him was a trick he’d have to attempt. “Are you sure we’re capable of handling something so ancient? We’ve barely left the area around our own town.”

“A knight who has lost his sense of chivalry… We must do this, Rhydian, for it is my honor to put sinners such as he in their place. I will go forth alone if I must! To conquer this.. this absurd atrocity!” Sir Haygriff was far more flared up than he had ever been before, as if his passion was sparked from the news itself.

Yet, Rhydian wouldn’t give in quite yet. “I hate to break it to you, jarhead,” A swift breath blew over his bottom lip and left palm found way dramatically against his temple. “But if this supposed Knight is grand enough to handle whole parties of supposed heroes by his lonesome, then there’s a good chance we’ll be next in line to fall. We should approach this with more level heads, and more information on the pathway to, and of the Lost Woods.”

Miranda cocked her head to the left with a finger pulling gently against her lip, “What do you have in mind then Rhydy~?”

“We should prepare ourselves with better equipment, something better than just this.. average gear we have. Attempting something of this feat is nothing to take lightly. Magical items too, and we should carry a few concoctions in case some of us get in a tight spot. I doubt Miranda will be able to heal all of us in a pinch. That, and I'd like to look more into the source you required this information from. To me, it makes no sense.”

“Reasonable advice, I say we send a scout ahead to navigate the path before us. A secure way of ensuring that the route I’ve made will not cause us too much trouble.“

“Sending someone ahead? Are you sure that’s wise? This world isn’t kind to those who travel alone, even for a few moments.”

“Garefs, are you saying that you yourself are not up to the task?”

Again, Rhydian’s words were lacking in response, as little ones that he had already. The very fact that Nobunaga himself was quick to subject him to a large and rather dangerous task. He was dumbfounded, and reluctant to offer his own two-sense as he understood that his words were falling short when it comes to persuasion of a rational decision. Internally he wanted to walk away, and leave them to their own deaths— but what type of man would he be to let his comrades tarry off to battle alone?

“... I’m more than capable of handling it.” His voice fell low, a dash of vexation and meshed with the influence of egotistical attitude offered by his party. “Hand me the map, and we’ll meet at the rendezvous point you’ve established.” A pause, “... You did establish one, correct?”

“Naturally, I am no fool, Rhydian.” Oda pulled from within the confines of his cloak a roll of paper tattered with ink and offered it with grace. To no surprise, Rhydian snatched it away and already had begun walking away towards his destination. “We'll take care of everything else. Godspeed to you, my fair friend.”

Silence had been the great welcomer after that— none save from further flirtatious remarks of the mage and talk of glory from the knight. The group divided, and steadily departed to their respective tasks. Everything they all had to do was so simple when put into words.

Though, terror haunted the back of Rhydian’s thoughts. There was a feeling of dread he simply couldn’t shake, and it only grew worse with every step he dragged towards the outskirts of town.


____________________________________________

The day from that point was far more brisk than Rhydian had ever anticipated. He was successful in his scouting procedures of Nobunaga’s route, mildly impressed and alarmed at how relatively quiet and safe the trail truly was. Foes of smaller size, of course, lingered about the area. Yet nothing of absurd nature that he himself couldn’t handle. He thought it to be blind luck, but then again it was possible that it was the exact opposite—either way, the feeling of tranquility in the wilds was foreign to him, and that beckoned worry from the depths of his heart. His instincts, of course, prevailed over the environment he perceived, and thus he drew an arrow from his quiver to pull it back against the bowstring; the weapon held low and ready. Shortly after that, keen eyes fell to a bizarre clearing of dried dirt in the midst of the grassy path. Peculiar, though he pressed onward.

When he finally came to the near center, Rhydian was vigilant in taking a gentle halt before placing himself entirely in the open. From his position, the archer spotted an irregular lump in the ground and the eerie smell of sulfur. A trap, such was concluded, yet now alarm spiked to a high with his senses— who, or what had set it in place?

A question that was answered not a moment later. Lightning, twisted and violet, struck true at the lump with the utmost precision. The trigger of an explosion came next, and Rhydian had only a small window of opportunity to react. His body was not sturdy enough to resist the force, but to lessen the impact he flung himself to the earth in a roll; shrapnel and dust soaring over his figure. Seconds later, the air cleared, and somehow he had managed to escape harm entirely. The attack was something that came of surprise, but to stay vigilant was the only way Rhydian knew to behave.

Caution was the only lingering grace left to him as a gift ever since his blossoming into this world— his memories, vanished as they may be, were not enough to strip him of his pride as a natural hunter and efficient warrior. Though he was not so foolish to get ahead of himself, his situation not yet to his benefit. His guard never lowered, but he was quick to let his eyes scan the area for the mysterious assaultant that desired to test their luck against him in the games of range. It was only seconds before he caught the back of a man dashing away into the security of the forest— to Rhydian that made ill sense. He was alone, and at a clear disadvantage, yet the male ran. Why? He pondered to himself a moment, but the answer was more clear than he was comfortable with.

It was a trap.

The approach of other individuals was sensed by Rhydian, and unlike before, he was proactive rather than reactive. His body was swift as it jerked to his left to immediately. His calloused fingers reeled back the arrow along the bowstring, and a moment later it flew forward. It soared fast, and rather deadly, only to graze the cheek of Oda Nobunaga who had been approaching with Miranda, Haygriff, and of course, supplies. The group had practically stopped in their tracks— wide-eyed, as if not anticipating the strike. For a gold tag, Garefs noticed the sliver of fear and hesitation in his eyes.

Still, they pressed forward with newly returned smiles to their face— Oda in particular with the widest of grins. "It is comforting knowing someone of your sense and precision is an ally rather than a foe. If you didn't shoulder mercy, well, I likely would be standing without an eye right now."

"Luck seems to be ever in your favor, but your knowledge on safe travel routes is not." The archer made a nodding gesture towards the blown apart area, and frowns bubbled on the faces of them all. "Someone planted a bomb in this very area, and fired at it from afar to attempt to kill me, or perhaps even warn me, before fleeing into the forest. This is a trap, and we need to head back to regroup; I don't trust this assignment of yours any longer."

"Perhaps they were scared knowing they would have angered the greatest heroes in the land, haha! I too would cower away in fear if I stumbled upon my own greatness!" Another hearty chuckle from Haygriff after a ludicrous remark.

“Either way, it seems we are not alone nor is the path we tread upon safe…” Nobunaga rubbed his forefinger alongside his chin, “Troubling indeed, however, we as warriors must put our pride in seeing the mission done rather than silly mishaps that may cause us trouble. We must carry on in the name of our duty, and our village, after all.”

“Are you daft? We’d be marching right into a trap, surely you—”

“Rhydian!” Miranda yelled, her voice displaying a firmness to it that he hadn’t been used to. “You are the biggest worrier I have ever met, have some fuckin’ faith in our team! We’ve been successful to this point, what could possibly change now?”

Everything, he wanted to say, but alas he bit his tongue while they all continued to ridicule him for wanting to take measures of caution rather than action. Rhydian didn’t understand why, but this very situation felt.. incredibly familiar, and that drove his heart haywire. Continuously, they all argued, until finally he caved into their will to press forward.

It wasn’t long before the entire party began moving forth into Lost Woods. Fools, they were— but his love for the ones that were now his family was the pride that enabled him stuck to their side like sap to a tree.

He only hoped things wouldn’t take a turn for the worst.

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Reiki

"Field assignments are typically not my style, dear rabbit, but the group I've been tracking has a rather interesting artifact they've obtained— so I'd prefer the reassurance that things are running smoothly. I'm sure you don't mind, do you darling?" Every word that left her crimson lips was laced with an apparent venom— one that sent chills along the very nerve and struck when least expected. It was an effect that a woman of her position and power prided upon, and one that worked well, despite her rather slim figure.

Many men and women in masks surrounded her, each of poor, wooden make and resembling that of rodents. Rats, mice, moles, and other fur-creatures Reiki couldn't be bothered to remember the appropriate names of. All she thought was that the masks were fitting for pests. Riffraff that were disposable, uninteresting, and had the hopeless belief they could ever offer an influence in Isoroppia. Dainty fingers of her right hand raised and adjusted the platinum mask she wore— while ivory eyes bared into that of the all-too famed Bunny. He was the only individual amongst the crowd that piqued her interest, even if only slight. The man carried pride in him, primarily in that of his mask, which resembled an ivory rabbit. Empty eyes stared at her from behind the wear, and Reiki couldn't tell if such was from resentment or merely lack of interest.

The Bunny merely grunted, and gave a soft gesture to a short, plump male that lingered at his side. Reiki could sense the hesitation to speak within the man, but he was quick to adhere to the wishes of the one who commanded them. "The men are prepared, and we merely wait to act." He was blunt in his speech, yet the words that left his lips were short; lacking in any refined emotions. The fact that he spoke to her and not the Bunny himself had irked the nerves of her so— though she kept her demeanor cool while he continued on. "I've received word that our man has laid the bait, and that they pursue en route to this very spot. They will meet their end, and you will have Nobunaga's blade. I assure you of this."

The woman couldn't help but indulge in that of a smirk. It was a shame she valued her identity so much, perhaps she might've been able to indulge this eerie man with the look of a proper woman struck with glee. A sight she was sure he wasn't too experienced in.

"Perfect, my dear rabbit," her teasing tone rolled off the tongue, "absolutely perfect."

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Rhydian Garefs

Rhydian was thoroughly frustrated, and frankly, paranoid. His eyes were focused entirely to his surroundings, purposely searching for something out of the ordinary in preparation for an assault. Yet, nothing stood out; nothing noticeably, that was, and the forest itself was silent save for the melancholic chirpings of birds whom’s calls fell deaf to his ears. Nothing about the environment felt natural, as if his group and he were mere playthings for whoever was watching from afar. A single hand raised and tugged down at the hood that shadowed over his eyes, followed by gentle adjusting of a black bandana over his mouth. An arrow was plucked from his quiver, and held at the ready by his bowstring—to which Miranda once again made a quip over.

“Nothing has even happened yet, and you’re still hyper-sensitive! Is it because you want to protect me, Rhydy?”

“Partially.”

That response caught her by surprise, cheeks flushed the brightest pink, to which Nobunaga and Haygriff laughed rambunctiously at. Rhydian for once, smiled with them, and let his guard lower for a split second. Yet that single second was all it took for everything to unfold. He knew that well, and he still failed them.

The lightning he saw from before made its debut once more, though this time in more abundance and from all sides around him. However their marks weren’t aimed for him, nay, they were targeted towards the one who idolized him so. Miranda was the first to fall, and the greatest mistake Rhydian would have to live with. It happened faster than he anticipated, but the bolts of destruction nailed into her ribcage, then her stomach, and finally, her throat— flinging her backwards into the ground. She wasn’t yet dead, but her groans were enough to snap a chord in the archer’s heart.

Enemies sprang from all over, masks of various rodents worn on their visage accompanied by sable cloaks. Rapidly, they encircled them all; Rhydian could tell it was perfectly coordinated by the way their positioning was set up. Warriors who were skilled at close-combat took the lead with their weapons of swords and spears, and mages who couldn’t afford the damage of blunt force were kept to the rear. The most alarming thing he noticed however was a man and woman who kept towards the far rear— both wore masks too, yet they were different. The male’s resembled that of a white rabbit, and the woman’s, a platinum mask with crimson decoration. Whoever she was. Rhydian sensed an aura from where he stood— one that shook him to his very core. It was one of the first times he had ever experienced true fear. True hopelessness. Alas, he watched in silence as she turned to march away; his focus quickly taken away from the mysterious woman to his own comrades.

His hell had just begun.

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Reiki
Boredom sank in quickly, and already her patience was running short. Her irritation only grew as the worthless Agents that surrounded her fiddled about in fear that she might snap and let loose upon them. It wasn't intentional, but she knew all too well they could feel her dangerous aura seeping into her pores. She expected it of mere mice, but nonetheless, it still drove her to rather unladylike thoughts. She kept a poised posture against the trunk of a tree, forearms crossed beneath her breasts while white nails danced along the skin. It was the same, rhythmic tapping motion that provided the only shielding from her and the heads of useless grunts. Her mood wasn't swayed until the Bunny himself approached her.

Though the male couldn't see it, her facial features visibly relaxed for a moment when he stood before her. The only reason he'd even dare step near here was for news that'd bring her joy— even he wasn't foolish enough to approach someone such as herself with an ill abiding report. He had henchmen to spare for that. Accompanying him was the same irritant from before, those this time shouldering glee in his visage.

".. My lady, Reiki. It seems the targets will be arriving soon. I ask that you retreat to the rear, and allow my team to secure the item for you." His tone was proper, respectful, and his choice of words were careful as they were cunning. The Bunny merely grunted in agreement; which visibly caused her to roll her eyes. If he weren't so damned silent and strange— she might've considered him to be worthwhile of her time. Though, he was merely a foolish heretic himself— believing heroes shan't exist in the current world. A sigh left her lips, and she merely slid back to a firm posture and waved him off.

At least, she intended to, before the crackling sounds of mana struck a chord in the air. Her head tilted towards its direction, and to a surprise she saw four figures being closed in from the mass of Agents at the Bunny's disposal. One of them was laid out flat upon the forest floor— a woman in skimpy clothing, and whether or not she was dead was difficult to tell from her distance. Next to her was a knight. Already she discarded him as uninteresting, and assessed the next victim.

A piercing gaze narrowed onto none other than Oda Nobunaga, whom's blade glistened with a distinctive energy that almost drove her mad. She recognized him immediately, for his party had been growing fame over the last month— despite their short time of existing. Internally, she shuddered with glee, but then her own nerves stopped when they locked eyes with the one shrouded in a hood.

From afar, even though she couldn't see him well— his eyes were trained upon her every movement. He knew her breath, her exact distance away from him, and she could even tell that he sensed her aura from so far away. Yet, there was no shaking the twinkle in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. Not from love, but.. interest.

Lips curled into a smile, while she spun on her heel to disappear elsewhere into the forest. It was a shame that one was destined to die on this very day. Reiki thought of it a charity from life itself when gems like that presented themselves to her.

".. Be quick, my dear rabbit. You know how I get when I'm impatient."

A curt warning before her curvaceous figure disappeared into the darkness of the woods.

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Rhydian Garefs
“Rhydian, take down those mages, now! Haygriff and I will defend Miranda here. Hurry!” A direct command from Nobunaga, who seemed to be more level-headed in the situation currently than he was. It wasn’t a plan, but it was the best spring-of-the-moment decision he could abide to for now. Hesitation was not something he could afford in the mass of several foes aiming to strike them down, and so he let an arrow fire forward before rushing in the same direction.

It nailed directly into the head of a axe-man, who recoiled into the figure at his side; an opportune path cleared for him to bust through towards the mages. The moment he broke through, he saw fingers aim down at his figure— ready to fry him into essentially dust if he wasn’t careful. Lightning flickered, and struck at him, but Rhydian’s acrobatics provided the utmost skill required to evade such an assault. His body leapt into the air, twisting and dodging three bursts, then he landed into a roll to dodge a final five. Eight mages, he concluded, soon to be none.

Another arrow plucked from his quiver and fired forth, this time into the throat of a mage to his left. Quickly, he dashed forward in three short strides to tear his arrow out of the foe’s flesh, then slam it into the temple of one at his side; followed by a powerful kick given momentum by a turn into his right. A crack was heard, and ribs snapped at immediate impact. As he fell, Rhydian bobbed to his right to dodge another bolt, and retaliate with a projectile of his own. Four enemies right off the bat subdued. Though a sharp pain singed into his left hip, a strike from behind. Three more bolts were sent from the front, and admittedly he knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge in time before being eviscerated. Eyes slammed shut to brace for impact.

But the pain never came.

Instead a hefty grunt, followed by a cry of agony bellowed from in front of him. Eyes shot open to see Haygriff stumble from each of the direct blows, but nonetheless he remained standing. Axel held his halberd at the ready, and he charged forward with the mightiest war-cry the archer might have ever heard. Over and over again, the mages pelted him with magical blasts— far too many for him to handle. Yet Haygriff pressed on, until he was right in their face and about to strike. Then it happened.

One of the mages pulled forth a catalyst, and all three of them placed their hands upon it. Before Rhydian could process what it was, an explosion expelled from the gem. Haygriff and the casters were engulfed in smoke. An explosion that was small, but powerful enough to kill a hero where he stood.

And that’s precisely what it did.

There was not a speck left of Axel Haygriff, nor the sorcerers that he combatted with. All that remained was the blood-stained halberd that clattered onto the forest floor— broken in two. He was gone, and there wasn’t a damned thing Rhydian could’ve done to stop it. Anger surged, and so did his senses; again he’d draw an arrow and swiftly shift his aim towards the final mage with a similar catalyst ready to lob towards his comrades. Release, and then a kill, striking the sorcerer into his temple; the catalyst exploding the moment it dropped from his lifeless fingers.

His attention then altered towards Nobunaga in hopes he did not suffer a similar fate— but it was worse. Miranda was barely on her knee, and the samurai was surrounded by seventeen men from that of which he could count. Some were dead, but not enough to turn the tides of battle. Oda locked eyes with Rhydian from afar, and the only thing the warrior could do in the spur of a moment was mouth two simple words.

Forgive me.

Nobunaga spun around in a haste, and struck two of the masked men true to clear a path back towards the way they came— and just like that, he sped away in a haste; leaving Miranda all to her lonesome. Rhydian went to pull another arrow back against his bowstring, but it was far too late before he even got the chance.

Her eyes blinked pleadingly towards him, as if requesting for his help without words even needing to be said. The archer cursed to himself, all the while screaming her name, he leapt in minor bursts towards Miranda— but it was no use. The last he saw of her was her mouth uttering words he failed to understand and her finger outstretched toward him so very wantingly, before her body became a plaything for the weapons they all held. Swords, spears, and axes all clobbered at her figure; at first a high-pitched scream that was silenced by the slicing of flesh, and then all at once, nothing. Rhydian stopped in his tracks, the grip on his bow solidifying like iron as everything he knew within this world was steadily stripped away from him. All it took was once careless mistake, and a matter of mere moments before they were all gone, and slowly the remaining opponents turned to him— including the bunny-masked man. They stared blankly, and yet, almost wary, but their feet dragged until each and every one of them made daring attempts to enclose him in a circle, but Rhydian's rage gave him the strength to raise his arms for perhaps the final time. It was the least he could do for her, for him, and to represent true bravery where their cowardly leader had failed.

One arrow followed another as they nailed into two of the approaching masks, and the attempt to let off another had been interrupted by the charge of three that broke off boldly from the group. Their swords were held at the ready, eager to skewer him so nonchalantly. Yet, for Miranda, this was a fight he could not afford to lose— the archer let them draw in until they were in range for him to pounce. With grace, he maneuvered to his right and leaned ever-so-slightly, the iron blade just barely missing his fabric. Then, with a surprising slam, Rhydian curved the upper limb of his bow across the forehead of his assailant, and to finish him off slammed the arrow he had drawn prior smack into the side of his throat. Despite one being taken care of, there were still two others who were hoping to take the kill. No luck, however, for the archer was fueled by the emotion of vengeance and rage. As the one on his left took effort to drive their sword forward, Rhydian took hold of his wrist with his free hand; only to curve it into the direction of the other opponent seeking fortune and blood. The sounds of flesh squelching under impact came as a shock when his foe had realized that he had been outdone; though time to reflect was not a courtesy Garefs was willing to give. A quick force downward into the male’s forearm, caused it to snap under impact— a scream of terror being let out, only for Rhydian to pull the sword from a now loose grip and slam it into the mouth of the masked, and silence then birthed anew.

All three of them were dead, but a minor victory was meaningless in the grand scheme of things— Rhydian knew that much. He was fated to die here, that much became clear when his eyes fell to the men and women that encircled him with their arms pointed his way. Yet none moved, as if they were waiting for an order to launch themselves forward, and likely fearful at how easily their comrades were disarmed and murdered. The soft, steady crunch of leaves and twigs could be heard from directly ahead of him; then the group of enemies split to allow whoever had been approaching through.

It was the man from before, who decorated himself in sleek attire and a bunny mask; a rapier and two long daggers noticeably swaying from his waist. At first glance, Rhydian could tell he was the leader of this small pack— yet the archer’s eyes grew ever-more wide when he noticed the dog tags that dangled from his neck. It was a collection of silver and copper tags, perhaps fifty or maybe even more than that, though what was truly alarming was the single gold tag that dangled from his neck. Whoever this man was, Rhydian knew damn well that his strength far outclassed his own— especially now, even fatigue would settle in long before he had a chance against him. He looked over his surroundings, counting them all and checking for more dog tags that might provide alarm. To his surprise, there were only fourteen of his pack left in total, and all bore copper tags; except for a few, who held none.

It didn’t take a genius to deduce the group he was dealing with— the Agents. Ordinary men and women who hunted those summoned such as himself. All this time he had hoped it’d be just a rumor, but the reality before him was grim. There they stood, mighty, and the battle already won— no matter who he was, Rhydian was one man, and the bunny-covered man knew that well.

“... Snatch his tag!” spoke a foe from the crowd, and with that call, four men rushed forward with laughing cries.

Again, he’d fight, but this time slinging his bow over his figure and unsheathing his short, silver sword. He held it leveled in his right palm, and as they rushed at him from all sides— Rhydian’s eyes glowed once more; clairvoyance given to him and marking the weak-points on each of their bodies. One launched themselves in a crazed manner, with a steel axe raised high, but he was prepared. A surge of speed let him bounce forward, sticking the blade into his right hip; force and drive slamming the agent onto the ground. Then a clean stomp to his throat ended his life. It all had just begun, the archer ducking under a horizontal sword strike from one, only to be struck fast in his thigh by a spear from another.

Rhydian bit down on his lip, irritated at the pain that now flared within his leg. There were too many of them, and already his fatigue had steadily began to show. Two swift strokes of his sword were delivered to the woman who dared to cleave his head with her own blade; then he drew his dagger and flinged it in the direction of the fourth agent who had been prepared to strike— but suffered iron forcibly driven into the middle of their forehead. His attacker from the side continued to apply pressure on the spear, and Rhydian let out a wail of frustration meshed with pain before grabbing ahold of the weapon. He jerked it out of his leg and let the butt of it slam into the chest of the agent; whom’s copper tag broke off from the impact. With a battle-cry of his own, the archer twirled and let his shortsword slice the throat of his opponent, who then sputtered words that were intelligible, and finally fell dead.

More prepared to rush Rhydian down, but the ring leader held his hand high for them all to pause, and took two meager steps forward. Steadily, he began to unsheathe his rapier, and with a twang of metal reverberating through the air came the eerie chill that tickled down the archer’s spine. He was fearful, and above all knew that this fight was a losing one. He was outnumbered heavily by men and women of similar strength to his own, and now face-to-face with a warrior who had killed a golden ranked hero. There was no scenario, or even the mere sliver of a chance that he would win in a straight fight— not with injuries like he held.

Like himself, the bunny-masked male offered no words, save for a single sentence that came from his men, spoken proud and brief as if it held no weight. “... Know that The Agents were kind enough to spare you suffering!”

Silence was the only answer Rhydian desired to give— slipping into a warrior’s stance, but staggered from the wound in his leg.

Forgive my lack of strength, everyone.

A final gesture of pride became affixed in his chest as his blade was soon held level with his jaw. Before he knew it, this Bunny, Rhydian would call him, was now rushing forth at him. In what was likely to be his end, he smiled under the shadow of his hood. The face of Miranda right before her death was steadfast in his mind, and served as the primary reminder at what he had been fighting for after all this time. To prevail mattered not to him anymore; only to deliver the ones who perished before him the justice they deserve. His right foot positioned itself behind it's left, eyes following his approach carefully. He stabbed the stolen spear in the ground, one that had done him a great number of damage.

And then, without warning himself, he surged forth too.

____________________________________________
Lo Mayn Lo Mayn HTCOR HTCOR TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity NyxNightmare NyxNightmare Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat LokiPokie LokiPokie
 
Alyssa
Alyssa.png
As the muscular man jolted forward, Alyssa noted on his impatience. A sense of dread washed over her. Why is there fighting? she asked herself, picking up her pace to match the fighter as the rest of the GOLF team was in hot pursuit. She cut through the hedge with her sword, revealing the battle that had taken place. At first, she was surprised, her blade at her side as she gawked in awe at the destruction. Then, in a swift motion, she acted. Raising her sword, she jabbed at Hatch, the point of her blade soaring for his heart. The attack was poorly blocked since the man had stuck up his arm before the impact. Yet, as the sword met his flesh, it sunk in, tearing through like butter until the point grazed against his neck. A solid hit, but not enough to end him.

This was bad. She had assumed The Bunny was going to be done with his fight before bringing in their next batch of prey. What had taken him so long? She took a glance at the enemy he faced. They seemed battered and weak, and yet they still stood. Had he faced her master all on his lonesome? Did they get their information wrong on what tags to prepare for? There was no time. She needed to handle the tanks before they tried to intervene. Ripping her rapier out of the dazed Hatch, she struck at Sonos, who had already readied himself to strike her. With a lunge, their swords connected, but as Sonos deflected her attack, his weapon broke in two, unable to handle the brunt of her strike.

Hopping back two steps, she got into a fencing stance. Alyssa had now outed herself as an associate of the killers in front of an entire party of heroes. Even on her own, this was a tough situation. As she moved, a few of her well-earned tags slipped out, an assortment of bronze and silver leaving themselves displayed to the GOLF team. She was an Agent.


NyxNightmare NyxNightmare HTCOR HTCOR Lo Mayn Lo Mayn LokiPokie LokiPokie Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat youngmanrhys youngmanrhys
 
The Bunny
[BOSS]
The Bunny.png

Nothing good ever came from the Lost Woods. As a child, Bunny remembered overhearing the rumors of the place and how monsters of terrible proportions resided underneath its wooden umbrella. That it was cursed by The Breaker himself. As he laid his back gently against the trunk of an overgrown tree and leaned all his weight on a large branch, he felt the melodic pulse of the forest through his skin. It was alive, just like any other. It was still, unending.

Then, the melody broke off. Two individuals stood before him. One was of a plump nature that went by the name of Buumples, his translator; meanwhile, the other was a woman named Reiki, who adorned a platinum mask. They spoke to each other in hushed tones, Reiki growing impatient. When her eyes flashed to him, Bunny merely faced the other direction. He was in no mood to listen to her prattle on about the severity of the mission, nor be informed on how important securing the package was. His job was to kill, not listen to the ravings of a weapon fanatic.

". . . my dear rabbit, absolutely perfect," she said, the masked man hearing only the last snippets of her words before she left them to their own devices. It's a bunny, not a rabbit, he thought to himself, allowing her sharp comments to slide right off his coat. Despite his irritation with her, Reiki was a valuable asset to the Agent's agenda. Not only was she the one to plant the false information into the report Oda received, but she had gathered intel on a particular spot within the Lost Woods that monsters naturally avoided; the one they stood in now. The only downside was her blindness to the cause. It was obvious she supported The Agents for the financial security they offered her business. Then again, who was he to deny support when handed on a silver platter?

With a lackluster gaze, he watched as one of his men walked to the base of the tree he and Buumples were standing on. They gave a signal, indicating that the trap was set into motion. In a single nod, The Bunny leaped to the branch Reiki ran off to as Buumples, despite his poor figure, followed closely behind. As Buumples explained the situation, Bunny watched the four heroes as they emerged from the clearing. They held themselves with pride, much like the countless vile champions he had seen before them. It was almost a shame, not being able to dirty his own hands. He was, after all, an emergency precaution in case the plan went south.

As the fighting commenced between his men and the unsuspecting party, it went relatively smoothly. First went down the mage, and after some time, the knight, too. It was going exactly as planned. His only wonder was how someone other than Oda was still standing after being met with such devastating odds. That's when the tide of battle changed. Suddenly, his men began to drop, and as soon as things were hitting its climax, Oda had escaped. There was too much risk trying to follow him through the cursed woods, and his men were too preoccupied with the troublesome archer to deviate their attention to his capture. While he wasn't excited to get his ear chewed off by Reiki, there was always a second chance for everything. For now, it was time to put an end to the thorn in his side.

Dropping down from his branch, metal boots touched the grassy field with a thud. In a single motion, two spells were cast, each a buff for speed and strength. As his hand raised above his head, his followers disengaged from the battle and allowed him to slowly walk towards Rhydian, an ominous skip to his step. As he came to a stop, he brandished his rapier with his left hand, lifting it to where it pointed at the figure before him. How many times had a hero challenged him, as this one did now? How many times had they fallen to the same blade he now carried? The gold tag around his neck hung heavy, a reminder of what earned him the mask he was so proud of.

And then, they clashed.

A lot had happened within that one second of their blades connecting. First, it was Alyssa, who appeared along with a party of heroes that couldn't have come at a worse time. Then, it was her foolishness, attacking them in a rushed manner and announcing her betrayal well before she was meant to. Due to her ineptitude, he had to work fast. With a quick flick, his blade skidded along the edges of Rhydian's sword, pushing the tip of their weapon to become dislodged into the ground and allowing for The Bunny to make a quick swipe across his chest. The wound was not deep, a majority of his armor taking the brunt of the hit, but as the mark burned on the archer's chest, a discreet poison took hold of his body. In seconds, his muscles became numb, and with no moment of respite, Rhydian fell on his back, unable to move.

Using a swift kick, The Bunny planted the tip of his toes into the side of Rhydian's stomach, his increased strength making it possible to fling the man into a nearby tree. Out of sight, out of mind. Now that the main problem was out of the way, it was up to him to fix the new mess that Alyssa had created. Raising three fingers, the other Agents began to change their position, switching their fixation on Rhydian to the new threat that had appeared. The Bunny wasn't certain what sort of skills these individuals possessed, but due to their forces being cut in half, it was up to him to dispatch their enemies and fast.

As his shoes scraped against the dirt, he shot forward with tremendous speed, followed shortly after by the rest of his group. Raising his sword, it was aimed for the one that had just lost his weapon.

NyxNightmare NyxNightmare HTCOR HTCOR LokiPokie LokiPokie Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat youngmanrhys youngmanrhys Lo Mayn Lo Mayn
 
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Sonos

A burst of speed- a shattering of steel. A moment later, a force beyond his power came rushing in. His shield cast indirectly into the way, a blade stabbing through the side of it, keeping it pinned in place for now- both shield and dagger. He'd twist his arm around, grabbing the Masked Agent's arm- disarming him of one of the weapons he needed- only for his other arm to get stabbed as a secondary shield.

Chaos, that was his mind- as blades impaled technically both arms, he would ram his forehead forwards to clash against the mask of the Bunny- a sickening crack echoing throughout the area. Two heads had collided, but one wasn't fairing so well. And Sonos' breath was easily fading, that last hit draining a lot, and his mind couldn't resist. But, as the Agent ripped out his blades, the leatherbound Hero burst backwards- trying to create breathing room. Just enough for the others to actually help a little, considering his shield was firmly attached to one of the Bunny's blades.

TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity Lo Mayn Lo Mayn Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat NyxNightmare NyxNightmare youngmanrhys youngmanrhys
LokiPokie LokiPokie (Most important duh)
 
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Shibala New Shading.PNG
Shibala'Negi

Shibala was quiet for a good long while, still trying to process her leader’s strange actions, trailing close behind Sonos and the others. She thought it strange that he was so easily willing to both accept these people, whom they’d just wrongly attacked as new allies and then accept this strange woman’s request. Shibala didn’t consider herself to be that intelligent, she was more used to taking orders and abiding by another’s strategy rather than coming up with them herself, but the way her allies didn’t even bother to read the scenario made her really question this world’s average IQ. This Alyssa was clearly behind the bloodbath that lay before them, she wasn’t blind, not only was she strangely unscathed, but the subtle glint of silver beneath her garb gave her away as an agent almost immediately. While she kept her suspicions to herself, she let the sneak know her ruse wasn’t working with a glare, a three eyed glare that seemed to reliably shake even the most stoic of her enemies.

But once the cacophony of battle had reached her ears, she was shaken from her glare, joining Hatch as he charged forth to see the chaos with her own eyes. What lay before her was evidence of a skirmish, many lay dead or injured already and the only two figures she could see standing belonged to some weird looking archer and an agent donning a silly rabbit mask. The archer appeared to have been the loser of the battle but considering how many were killed in his little struggle, his combat prowess certainly wasn’t lacking, she wouldn’t let this warrior’s corpse simply rot here, he would be devoured and his strength would be compiled into her own.
She hardly had the chance to process the scene before her when Alyssa chose now to spring a surprise attack on the party. While she managed to pierce the brute’s steely hide with a single thrust, she hadn’t taken Shibala into account, likely intending to focus on Hatch then pick off the others with the rest of her allies backing her up.

Shibala had an opening and there was no point in not taking advantage of it, but this situation already seemed grim, even though the fight had barely even started yet.
Alyss practically hopped back into the goat girl’s incoming fist, the fierce hook connecting rather soundly against her cheekbone. The blow sent the woman reeling from her stance for only a moment, before she retaliated, her thin little blade coming straight for the horned girl. If her senses were just that tiny bit sharper she may have been able to deflect the counter with a crystal coated jab at the rapier’s side, but alas the blow managed to strike true, biting deep into Shibala’s shoulder before her fist could arrive to wrench it free. Both backed away, one woman bruised the other bleeding, still mentally shook from the sting that shot through her body, she could only hope that one of her allies could back her up before a second thrust likely found her throat.

TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity Lo Mayn Lo Mayn HTCOR HTCOR NyxNightmare NyxNightmare youngmanrhys youngmanrhys LokiPokie LokiPokie
 
Silen
soy boy.png

thank you for the character portrait, nyx

From the cavernous depths of his dark and fuzzy mind, emerging into the fray of reality like some forlorn worm, Silen wriggled from his concussion with a wealth of knowledge to share from his travels through the mental cosmos. Undiscovered antidotes to untreatable ailments, technological advancements that surpassed the imagination, and the perfect recipe for a satyr soufflé were all present in his mind. The breadth of his knowledge knew no true end. That was until his crumpled head struck the dirt once again, rupturing his fragile epiphanies forever. Above him, through a cloud of obfuscating lights, a blur of motion drew over his eyes like a veil, and the sound of torn flesh heralded the generous distribution of blood across him. A trickle of warmth drained the color from Silen, inching red down his face. Had he not been loaded on the man’s shoulder, burdensome at best, then perhaps without that waste of movement, or rather with the freedom to, and if, then could- It was as he saw. The bright blade moved forward, onward and toward the de facto leader of his past party. What followed it would repulse the sight of anyone. To see through the light pollution that radiated from each leaf and bough of the forest’s mana flow, until that moment, was an active strain upon Silen’s vision. This creature, however, was a stain that streaked into view as quickly as a shiver. With no thought behind his reaction, Silen hesitantly reached for Hatch’s ankle, only to shrink away in an instant as instinctively as one halts their step before running off the edge of a vast trench. His gaze scattered erratically about the environment, from one light to the next, searching for some beacon, and, once it had been found, he pulled himself closer.

The very least he could do, and the most he might suffice, was to share the little that he had. A string, invisible to most, was struck between himself and the pale pactborn, coursing mana from one to the other in an alternating current. With this circuit formed, Silen sluggishly rolled on his side and shifted his attention back to the first wounded. There was a sense of familiarity in the brawler’s stance, however much the absence of a spirit disconcerted the space without him.

Interacted: TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity Lo Mayn Lo Mayn
Considered: HTCOR HTCOR NyxNightmare NyxNightmare Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat youngmanrhys youngmanrhys
 
Berlin_Defined.jpg
Berlin A. Malkuth

“The Infamous Lost Woods”
As the Golf Squad challenged Quor’s words and progressed through the Lost Woods, the sempiternal unease and disquiet that favored Berlin mauled at his subconscious, submitting doubt to his silence. How could he so easily let Hatch accept the clearly deceitful woman’s request to meander through the infamous Lost Woods? Much less, why did he follow him? Nevertheless, disorientated in the abyssal bosom of the forest meant it was much too late to maintain the thought. He kicked it underneath a metaphorical rug as you do, except the sentiment could be considered a ravenousness beast hungry for Berlin’s displeasure. The pactborn mumbled endlessly until they came to a stop.

Blood splatter. Blades meeting blades. Grunts and yells, hollers and attacks. The cries and shouts of a battlefield besieged their eardrums. Despite the obvious allure of whatsoever waited on the other side, comfort for Berlin existed away from the sound of killers not towards it.

“Guys, I don’t think this is a good ide-”

On cue and expected from the moronic muscleDUDE that led the pack, Hatch shot for a clearing without a second thought, and beside him followed Alyssa with a slash through the hedge that detached the group from the onslaught. And it was an onslaught. Bodies lay face down in puddles of their own filth and blood as a clearly injured man stood in opposition to a moderately sized army. Worst yet, before Berlin could utter any more hushed words of reason, Alyssa drove and punctured Hatch with her rapier. Justice™.
Another place. Another time. And Berlin would have rejoiced to the heavens and Gods who would listen, shouts of joy, unlike any cult or preacher. His knees would taste holy ground as his hands lifted to the sky. Instead, it was a battlefield within the Lost Woods, and the time was as such: They were under attack.

In a quick strike, two of Hatch’s five greatest tools were officially limp followed by a devastating blow to the old knight. Shibala connected a fist only to receive a bloody wound as well. Within only a few moments, the main group of attackers caught the L- leaving the last remaining offensive power in Berlin himself. The pactborn stumbled backward. He could fight, unleashing a barrage of fireballs into a tight crowd engrossed and surrounded by trees, sticks, shrubs, and everything else famous for their ability to burn. Or... he could attempt to escape and salvage what left he could of the situation. If there was something Berlin was an expert in, it would be evasion.
Not a moment to waste, invigorated by a sudden boost of strange, unfamiliar power, Berlin shot for Camila. With a tight grip, he took her feet from the dirt and lifted her body into his arms.

“RrrrrrunuNununuNun!!!!!” he screamed before kicking off dirt and attempting to flee.

Interacted with: NyxNightmare NyxNightmare / mentioned TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity HTCOR HTCOR Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat youngmanrhys youngmanrhys
 
[class=Notes] // Forward slashes are comments and do no show up in the final design, these are to help you find everything easily and explain some code as well. These comments must be with in a class or script tags in order to be hidden, from what I know// // Long URls are images # followed by letter and numbers are Hex codes or color codes.// // This code does not show breaks unless is shows the
code When typing responses to rps, be aware that when you press enter it will not show that you did. You'll have to use the
tags// [/class] [class=Lines] border-top:2px SOLID #680b0a; margin-bottom:8px; margin-Top:5px; margin-Left:12px; //This is the line dividers in the code, the tiny ones.// [/class]
[class=Notes] //Above is the background color and main border// //below are the two borders around the image// [/class]
Camila | Interacting: Hunk of a Hutch TheImmortalDeity TheImmortalDeity Fireboy Lo Mayn Lo Mayn | Mentioned: Soyboy LokiPokie LokiPokie Alyssa |
[div class="Lines"]
The trudge through the Lost Woods proved to be a rather arduous task. Camila's cloak appeared to snag on every upcoming branch in their path. It was almost as if the trees had purposely outstretched their limbs to hinder her already grim journey. She was beginning to realize the woods lived up to their name. Every turn they made resembled the previous. The dim light offered little assistance to differentiate their surroundings from the ever-looming shadows. Had it not been for their new guide, Camila would indeed be lost. Not that she would admit it aloud. Unfortunately, as she silently thanked God for the presence of Alyssa, she quickly wished to snatch it back. A fight was breaking out right before her eyes, led by Alyssa herself. Glaring up at the darkened sky, Camila quietly cursed at God. The deities were fooling with her. It would be the last time she dared utter grace to the majesties above.

Blood spattered across Camila's cheek. Licking a bit of the liquid off with the corner of her tongue, she grimaced. She knew Hutch's foul blood anywhere. "What the fuck, Hutch? Your blood got on my face! Can't you bleed on someone else's fa-"

The vampiric queen didn't have the luxury of finishing her complaint. She was whisked off her feet and into the arms of a man. His silver locks swished through the air as he ran in perfect strides. Cheating logic, the lack of sunlight did not prevent the sweat particles from glistening off his face. It was her PRINCE CHARM- wait. No. It's just Berlin. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT TOUCHING ME WITHOUT PERMISSION?!" Camila hissed furiously. Despite her dismay, the woman tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, practically choking the poor man. Although Berlin went against her wishes, he did portray loyalty and intelligence by saving her first. At least he didn't leave me to fend for myself on the battlefield like last time. Points for learning something, I suppose.

Glancing over Berlin's shoulder behind them, their teammates began to fade away. Wait. Camila would have been fine with this. Only, there was someone she didn't desire to leave. HER SOYBEAN!! "Wait! Berlin, we have to go back and get my soy boy-yyAHHH BERLIN. RUN FASTER!! USE THOSE LEG TENDONS!" A knife had whizzed by the two, missing Berlin's head due to Camila jerking it to the left. However, they weren't too lucky the second time, as another knife met Berlin's ankle. The two fabulous and skilled heroes went flying headfirst into a pile of dead leaves.

[div class="Lines"][/div]
Original Code by AgWordSmith (You are a goddess) [/div]
 
Hatch
Hatch.png

The glint of an incoming attack was all Hatch processed before his body reacted on its own. He had dropped Silen like the slab of meat he was, not wanting the lamb boy to come into any harm before being cooked to perfection. The drawback? The fighter had to give up his arm. Thinking that Alyssa's attack was going to be easily deflected like any other, Hatch was astonished to see the pointed edge emerge from the other side of his burly forearm, sliding through his defenses like butter. The squelching sounds of flesh being ruptured filled his ears, his mind swarmed with alarm as Alyssa yanked her rapier away, his blood jutting out like a sprinkler. He pressed his free hand over the open wound, the bags of rations sliding off of him in the process. "YOU FUCKING BITCH."

There was no sensation in his left arm, the limb acting as no more than an aesthetic. The stab had damaged Hatch's nerves, the numbness spreading up to his shoulder. Before she was able to continue, Alyssa was thankfully stopped by Shibala as the crystalline warrior got a good strike off and gave Hatch the much-needed room to re-establish himself. He peered at Sonos and saw how their face had turned pale, their body struggling to keep upright. They had barely been able to fend off the bunny masked attacker, who had then slipped past the knight and trailed after someone else, leaving Sonos to face off against the Agents that now caught up to the group. Following where The Bunny was headed, he saw familiar silver hair as it bobbed up and down in a frantic panic. As Berlin's back was turned to him, Hatch's anger flared. What the hell was that cowardly mage think he was doing?

Two knives shot from under The Bunny's coat, the first soaring into a tree while the other hit its target. As the hero killer steadily closed the gap between them, Hatch made the last-ditch decision to entrust Sonos and Shibala with holding off Alyssa and her minions. There was no way he was going to let some no-named nobody kill Berlin and Camila. Not when he made a promise to be the one to do them in himself. They didn't have any right to die by anyone except him. He dug his toes into the dirt and shot forward, ramming past any straggler Agents that attempted to get in the way as his limp arm flung around in the effort to reach the assassin. Then, in a single motion, his leg swept towards the cloaked figure, a rather muscular leg aiming for the leader's head.

NyxNightmare NyxNightmare Lo Mayn Lo Mayn youngmanrhys youngmanrhys Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat LokiPokie LokiPokie HTCOR HTCOR
 
Rhydian.jpg
Rhydian Garefs
It only took a single second for the world around him to seemingly fall into despair— and for once in his short-lived revival, he was met with failure.

Pride was a powerful emotion, for it alone pushed his comrades and he into the careless thought that they were truly invincible. That their skill was matched by no other, and foolishly they believed that no job gifted to them from the Guild was too much.

They were wrong.

Each step made by the forsaken archer was perfect— impeccable, even, as one foot after the other danced through the corpses that laid out along the forest floor. Rhydian found himself barreling towards the bunny-masked in perhaps the fastest he had ever run before. Pain surged from the open wound in his thigh, as if his leg itself were up in flames. Fatigue settled in over his body, along with the anguish of being the lone survivor out of all his comrades, and being abandoned by a man he thought he could trust. There was no singular feeling that could paint the picture perfect of how much his heart ached; but to Rhydian, those feelings were not important.

Vengeance. That was all he felt at that moment. The lives of both Miranda and Haygriff rested on his shoulders, and he thought himself fit to deliver the justice that each of them deserved. He thought himself fit to defeat The Bunny.

Their swords clashed, and the reverberating twang of metal echoed throughout the air. Rhydian nearly dropped his blade the second the two collided. His opponent held an overwhelming amount of strength— far more than he anticipated, and practically every ounce of Rhydian's being was simply holding himself against his might. Yet that hadn't lasted long. Bunny's skill rivaled his own, only he had far greater speed and power to effectively use it. The archer's sword was tipped downward, and in that instance he became vulnerable. His foe reacted quickly, and exacted a devastating blow onto his chest. Rhydian gasped for breath as paralysis sunk into his nerves, his body slamming onto the solid ground. Twigs and leaves snapped under his weight.

The sounds of ringing overtook his hearing, and his vision became clouded with darkness. He could barely breathe— his sight faltering. Part of him thought it to be the end; that no more suffering would plague him and his life would fade to the heavens above where comrades from times past and now awaited to embrace him.

He was sorely mistaken.

Rhydian felt agonizing pain in his left side, the cracking of his ribs audible as he soon realized he was soaring through the air and away from the battle. He watched with blurred vision as his opponent became further from him, and he was confused— why was he still alive? He was defenseless, outmatched, and from what he assessed an easy target for the Agents. So why—

His thoughts were rapidly interrupted by a new, torturous feeling that overtook his entire body. It was the worst he had felt in his life— but he didn't have time to assess any of it before everything suddenly went black.

~

Rhyd-y.. Get up. You're not done yet, are you?

A voice echoed from somewhere beyond the endless darkness he saw. He couldn't feel anything, he couldn't see anything, but the words he had heard were far too real to merely be a dream. The last thing Rhydian could remember was the battle, and in his final stand he had been forcefully shoved elsewhere into the forest, only for moments later for everything to shut down. Rhydian could only insinuate one possible explanation— he was dead, and he had failed the ones he coveted as friends.

He cursed himself ten times over, but before he could wallow in self-pity, it spoke again.

It is rude to ignore me, you know? I died for you! The least you could do is grant me a little of your attention.

".. What do you mean?" Rhydian spoke, and in doing so he surprised himself— he hadn't expected to be able to speak in the endless blackness.

I knew this would happen. The moment I fell and everyone went into a panic, I.. I knew we all weren't going to make it. Some of us were going to die. The voice talked again with a quivering tone as if it were about to erupt into tears. But you.. you didn't. The technical weakest of us all persevered, and you tried to protect me when Oda abandoned all of us.

Rhydian couldn't believe what he was hearing— he had his suspicions, but he didn't expect it to be her. "M..Miranda? Where are you? I can he—"

I am dead, Rhydian. You saw that happen. Even though I.. I never wanted to die. I didn't think it would be me out of all of us to.. to perish.

He fought back the urge to yell, and forced himself to keep an equanimous tone, "Then.. does that mean I'm dead too?"

No, but you are dying. You suffered too many injuries, and now you're bleeding out internally. If it continues any longer, then you'll be gone from this earth. Another soul lost to a world designed against people like us.

If he could've clenched fists in defiance, he would've— but he couldn't, so silence was the only manner of frustration he could grant her.

But, you won't die. I.. I made sure of it when I saw you still fighting so hard for all of us.

I gave my entire life before I passed to a wish, and my wish was for you, Rhydian. I wanted you to live, to win, to be better than the rest of us. It is the only thing I can give you now that I'm gone.


"Miranda, I don't know what you me—"

Wake up, Rhydian.

It isn't your time yet.


~

A single gasp left the lips of the archer. His eyes shot open with a blurry vision, and his fingers tugged at the bandana wrapped around his jaw. He pulled it past his lips to indulge in a coughing fit— blood and spit hacked up to saturate the forest floor, then oxygen filled his lungs with a slow inhale. Feeling akin to sand stuffed in his throat; clogging up his airways and refusing him passage to breathe— yet, it soon faded, and the rich air of flora and fauna eased into his body. He was alive, and he noticed that the pain and paralysis once afflicted over him were absent. The archer patted himself twice; once to his chest where a poison had seeped beneath his armor, and the other to his ribs that should've been utterly shattered. He blinked all but once, and gasped in shock at what he soon discovered.

There were no injuries on him, in fact, there wasn't a sign of any being there in the first place.

Rhydian himself was puzzled of how such came to be— he felt the blade pierce through his armor, a force overwhelmingly strong smack into his side, and the unbearable pain of his body slamming against something unknown; though he guessed it to be the tree he was slumped against. Every moment of that was real, excruciatingly so. He couldn't have possibly imagined all of that.

Then he remembered— Miranda's wish. She was a witch who's magic revolved around hexes and wishes. She explained that in order for her to cast something, it would be at the cost of something else. He then thought back to the words he saw her utter to him in her final moments. Miranda hadn't simply died in vain; she gave her life to save him with one, final wish. Death did not come to him today, and she was to blame.

Part of him cursed her for trading her life for something as foolish and undeserving as his— yet, he realized she also had been left with no other option. He would've done the exact same in her position, if it meant someone he cared about could survive a little longer than him.

But his life wasn't guaranteed. The yells of men were heard not too far off from his position, and if he heard correctly, the sounds of fighting as well. The Bunny was still at large, and a new prey would now fall to his blade. Rage gathered in the archer's heart, coupled with determination— he wouldn't let that man claim anymore victims if he could do anything about it.

Rhydian affixed his bandana back over his face, then propped to his feet in haste. Eyes scanned between the fallen leaves on the ground till they fell to his bow, Calcolo. He swiftly snagged it up into his right palm, thoroughly surprised that the weapon itself suffered no damage. The same couldn't be said for his arrows; he plucked at the contents of his quiver and found that three had snapped on impact. Earlier he had shot five, which meant that he only held seventeen left at his disposal. It wasn't a terrible amount, but given the amount of Agents he had seen— it wasn't exactly ideal.

His blade was gone, at least, for now— Rhydian caught sight of it in the open field ahead. It lay still on the ground but it provided too much risk to rush to obtain it. The element of surprise was on his side, and he wasn't willing to risk it for a simple blade he could buy in another town. After discarding the unusable arrows, he turned attention towards the forest canopy. A few moments later, the archer had climbed atop a large tree and gained sight of the battlefield from afar— if one could even call it that.

Rhydian saw everything. A company of six engaged in an absolute slaughter from the Bunny and his own men, along with a particular female who stood out with similar, exceptional swordplay. Three fought, but all were far too weak to make a difference— the other collapsed, and a coward took hold of a maiden and retreated from the scene. Yet they were hardly fast enough; the Bunny, whom he recognized instantly, was preparing to give them chase. If he caught either of them, then both would be dead.

He refused to let another life fade because of his weakness.

The archer couldn't tell how fast he was moving, but his legs felt invigorated with strength— he surged forward; hopping from one branch to another until he was finally in a position close enough to oversee the entire area. His vision couldn't have been anymore clear; lesser Agents beginning to swarm the party while each of them held their ground in their own, intriguing ways. It appeared he had arrived in time too; privy to the sight of a boorish man hardly dressed giving haste after an enemy he couldn't hope to catch.

Rhydian reached for his quiver, and with two fingers pulled forth a single arrow. He nocked it into the notch of Calcolo and reeled it back against the bowstring in preparation for a shot. Steady, he kept his breath, eyes trailing after the masked assassin; gauging speed to perfect the precision of his shot. Then with an exhale, he let loose.

It was fast. The whistling sound of an object spiraling through the air erupted from his bow, and his arrow barely soared past the Bunny's ear before it landed right before his feet. He saw the masked assailant halt in his tracks; a warning shot that struck his nerves, even. Attention then shifted to a woman, the one who was far more dangerous than agents lesser and handling both another man and a woman with goat horns by her lonesome. She too, readied a strike to fell one of them, but Rhydian reacted far faster than she did. Another arrow was affixed to Calcolo and launched in her direction— piercing into her arm even through the armor. Her wail of alarm indicated to him that he struck a nerve most likely, and he watched as the woman backed off from the two to avoid any further counterattack.

Four had been spared a certain death, but the threat that plagued all of them was still greater in number. Two arrows had been used, and leaving fifteen left to dispatch the rest. A flurry of curses flooded his mind at such an impossible situation. If he were smarter, he'd simply turn from the battle and escape to safety; thrive on his own and make something of himself later. Yet, his morality had scorned him from letting such a thought cross his mind.

After all, he wasn't Oda.

He made a risky move— leaping from his position up above and towards the zone of combat. In his downward descent, another arrow was plucked forth and fired into an agent trotting after the poorly dressed man clad in muscle. Rhydian then landed in a roll, and broke forth in a shocking sprint towards the one he felled. He tore the arrow from the corpse, and turned to face yet another foe attempting to give chase. He didn't waste any time to slam the used arrow into their throat, then kick their body backwards to trip others behind him. A few of the agents stopped at first, and some spoke with sheer fear and confusion.

"H-He's alive..?!"

"How did he live a strike from him? There's.. there's no way!"

Their morale already began to sink from Rhydian's presence— perfect, perhaps that would be all it took for them to get away. Fear was only temporary for the Agents, the Bunny could kill each of them without so much as breaking a sweat. This fight was hopeless, but even with that knowledge engraved into his mind, Rhydian refused to die. Miranda had given him life again.

Only a fool would waste a gift as precious as that.


____________________________________________

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The Bunny
[BOSS]
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Inconceivable. It was all inconceivable. His steps were a flurry on the mossened field, each slam of his boot leaving a trail of unmatched animosity. How he loathed the countless roaches that continuously crept out their heads from the shadows of the wilderness, a never-ending onslaught of self-proclaimed heroes coming to an impossible rescue. Why must they show themselves now? Why do they appear when it was far too late? As he was caught by the arm of one of those very heroes, The Bunny's mind and body stopped simultaneously.

Get out of my way, he thought, raking a knife down the enemy's arm, carving an uneven line straight down the middle. In unwavering zealousness, they kept holding on with a steeled expression, ramming their head into his own. Stumbling back, the slightest tingle of discomfort overcame his covered face, the outline of his mask digging into his skin. Was this man suicidal or plain insane? Perhaps both. Prepping for another attack, he shifted his weight, his vision flashing around for clues on how to dispose of this opponent.

The individual was rugged, hinting that of a fatherly nature. A tired complexion and an unfocused mentality bled through their actions. They were in a haze, hardly functioning on anything more than fumes. They acted to protect their comrades, the same as himself, and yet, they were completely different in their method of doing so. With a deluge of energy, the assassin moved, skating by the flimsy wall that sought to barricade him from his prey. As he made his move, Sonos' hand had stretched out to seize him once again, but as he did, the man fell. All of the crusader's stamina had been sapped, the last of his strength lost in his previous assault. The Bunny, knowing this well, continued past him. There was no room for failure, readying himself for his next targets.

Steady hands reached into the inner depths of his jacket, his fingers gliding over the cold steel of his armaments. Producing two knives, he chucked them forward, aiming for the duo that attempted to flee. A foolish maneuver on their end. The first knife missed its mark, narrowly missing the head of the fainthearted man, but the second hit, entering his leg with a satisfying prick. Tumbling forward, the man had dropped the priestess, leaving both of them open to a swift death. He readied a third knife, intending to end this charade of an ambush once and for all.

An arrow whizzed past his ear, sticking into the root of a tree. He swerved, wanting to sneak a glance at where the origins came from, only to see a herculean leg aiming for him. A quick inhale and The Bunny ducked, the foot taking off one of the ears on his mask in the process. Another incoming attack, this time a fist, came hurling for him. He crudely side-stepped the attack, placing a steady hand over Hatch's wrist. Then, with a raise of his knife, he cleaved off the marauder's arm.

Falling with a thump, the appendage twitched. What came after was a blood-curling scream from the beastly fighter. Lowering himself to his knees, he cradled the stump of his arm, unseemly tears in his eyes. With a swift roundhouse kick, The Bunny's metallic boot shot into their neck, incapacitating them. They were going to die of blood loss. He needed to finish off the stragglers and rendezvous with Alyssa to pick off the rest of the enemy party. Not only that, but a troublesome archer dared to come back from the grave. How troublesome this was all becoming, but finally, he was able to see the end.

A couple trots and he was caught up to the duo, another knife flung into the healer's shoulder as she tried to heal the wounds of her companion. All of them were sloppy. There was not a single shred of competence within the bunch, their mistakes glaring and plenty. So why did he find so much frustration in their actions? No matter. Everything was about to end. There was no future for them anymore. There never was one. Raising a final knife, an uneasy silence came from him and his bloodied form, the blade brought down without mercy.

But then, the ground began to tremble . . .

NyxNightmare NyxNightmare LokiPokie LokiPokie Lo Mayn Lo Mayn youngmanrhys youngmanrhys HTCOR HTCOR Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat
 
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Haha!

"Oh dear oh dear. I sense an urgent lack of a-" An unseemly crack was heard, as a Lower Agent flew across the area, only to slam into another. "...That was meant to be a punchline, but apparently I can only hit only two at a time. What a shame." A low buzzing filled the air, as a figure slowly reached it's hand out to gently tug Rhydian's arm to the side. Yet to any who tried to look to the arm, and where it led, they felt quite the odd sensation- their teeth itched. A low sigh echoed past the wounded man's shoulder, and across the entire clearing. Whatever this might be- it clearly wasn't natural.

As birdcall died, and critters fled- simple mask would become apparent. White, with slanted red eyes, a toothy smile lazily painted on the mask. "Morning! Or afternoon. I really can't tell anymore- you know, mask over my face, all that music, but alas." A hand speared cleanly through a terrified Agent's chest- as he paused. A light hum escaped the poor Monster, his head cracking to face the Bunny- or it would, if it hadn't cracked ninety degrees too much. It slowly creaked back to face the Bunny, as the heart of his minion was thrown at the poor masked one.

"So! Saw you were on my territory, or rather, felt you on my tentacles~!" He'd pause. "...Wait, I don't have tentacles, but seriously! I saw you there. Right there. Saw a brother in arms, you know, the usual, wanted to like. See if his-" It would barely be a moment more before an Agent screamed bloody murder, and tried to stab the new challenger! It was barely a moment more before another sickening 'snap' was heard, as one backhand was dispensed. "Excuse you, I was telling jokes! Let me at least have a few before you start trying to scream, please." An over-exaggerated sigh, as the itching on everyone's heart could be felt quite keenly with every motion this beast made. As he stood in the midst of the clearing- every Agent except the Bunny was petrified with fear, watching this monster clad in flesh. He would casually wave to the white haired duo in the distance, before peering closely at the Grecian Statue dude, who had only one arm! Huh.
 
"Hehe!"
[BOSS]
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The jungle groaned in disapproval of the outsiders. Something from within had decided that they had stayed their welcome, and now it was time to get rid of its unwanted guests. As the first anomaly made its entrance, a second came soon after. From one of the edges of the clearing, shrubbery had begun to retract on its own, revealing an opening no bigger than a doorway. In waves, beasts named Dire Wolves, ravenous canines that preyed on the weak and fearful, exited the cavity. With long strides, they came down on The Agents, tearing at them with unfazed ferocity as the humans were hardly able to put up a fight against their surprise attackers. Then, from the same passage that the dogs appeared, a hand- no, two, reached out from the shadows, an unsightly figure rising to the surface.

It was a terrible monstrosity. Its many faces, which were masks if one looked close enough, opened and closed their mouths similar to marionettes, speaking in an inapprehensible tongue that flooded the minds of those that heard it. Six lanky arms protruded from its body, each acting on their own accord. The presence of the abomination made one's skin crawl, an unshaken feeling of dread encompassing all who saw it. The air itself had grown colder as if the existence of this being was unprecedented; unwanted. As it drew closer, it was clear the phenomenon was dragging itself forward in slow, painful motion. Finally, it spoke, having many voices, and yet speaking as a singularity in a language comprehensible to the heroes and Agents alike.

"You play too much, Comedy. Kill the intruders and let's be on our way." It was difficult to tell where the despondent fiend was looking, but it moved steadily in the direction of Alyssa, targeting her. It began to raise one of its grotesque hands, a jagged finger pointed in her direction. "Talk too much and they will run. Have you forgotten your post?" At its fingertip, a small bubble started to form. They trudged past Shibala, giving her no recognition before the disturbing figure was steps away from reaching its goal. "Let us hope you fair better than our last visitors," it said to Alyssa. "If not, I'll have to listen to more of Comedy's jokes, and nobody wants that."

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The Bunny
[BOSS]
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Alyssa's cry was heard throughout the battlefield. As The Bunny poised himself next to Berlin and Camila, he watched as his precious student had an arrow pierce through her arm, ripping through her skin without remorse. In that instant, the archer's death was all but assured. He left the snowy-haired children alone, both of them having lost consciousness to his poison. His main directive came into focus: eliminate all threats. With great quickness, he traveled across the field in no time, preparing to behead the last of the remaining heroes and bring this chapter to a close. That was, until two of his men flung right past him, splattering against a tree and leaving nothing except a stain against its wooden trunk.

Pressing against the dirt with his heels, he skidded to a stop, facing where they came from. There stood a masked figure, much like himself, but with blood dripping from its gloved hand. His heart felt still. It was a guardian of the Lost Woods. This can't be right. Intel said this location was a blind spot for them. Why are they here? Barking snapped him from his reflection, The Bunny seeing as his men began to get torn to shreds, clearly outnumbered by the incoming threats. Some tried to fight while others ran, only to be caught by the jaws of the mindless beasts. Then, on cue, the second guardian emerged, its form as ghastly as it was dangerous. The situation had grown dire.

No plan saved them from this. The entire continent knew who Comedy and Tragedy were. Legendary monsters famed for their ruthless killings of countless adamantite heroes. To face them was a death sentence; there was no point. And yet, as he continued to watch the horrific scene unfold, a piece of him forced his feet forward. He placed a third buff on himself, one to fortify his defense, and felt the weight of the spell on his body. In a reckless play, he pushed himself in front of Alyssa, using a hand to urge her to run while his sword was drawn towards Tragedy. The being of many faces inched forward, and with hesitation, Alyssa ran.

This was how it was meant to be. His apprentice had a much longer life ahead of her, and if sacrificing himself meant an assured escape on her part, he was going to take it. In a swipe, three knives were conjured from the depths of his jacket, hurled straight for Tragedy. Each one disintegrated before coming near its body, becoming puffs of dust before being blown away by the winds. In a futile attempt, he then launched forward to slash with his sword, only for that, too, to vanish in a blink of an eye. The Bunny grimaced as he tried to retreat, but it was too late.

In a flash, Tragedy had virtually teleported, manifesting in front of The Bunny, his finger still extended. The bubble, which had grown a considerable size, blasted forward into the hero killer's chest, sinking into him. At first, there was nothing. He stood in bewilderment as the faces of Tragedy made varying expressions. Then he felt a pang in his chest. He watched as his body began to corrode and age, his spirited strength being whisked away by the passage of time. What was once a young man had turned into a middle-aged one, and then an elderly one, and then finally, a dead one. He was made into powder, the remains of The Bunny being no more than specks.

"A shame," the many voices called from Tragedy. "I thought there was more to this one." As it bent down, one of its masks opened, much like that of a jaw, and began to ingest the remains of The Bunny. They were converted into fragments, Memory Essences, and then consumed by Tragedy. There was, however, an abundance of fragments that slipped past the oddity and flew into the nearby heroes. Two each. As they regained composure, Tragedy watched as the heroes were forced into unconsciousness, the shards unlocking the depths of their psyche. "What do we do with them, Comedy?" the being asked its kin. "Kill them?"

NyxNightmare NyxNightmare Lo Mayn Lo Mayn youngmanrhys youngmanrhys Eldritch Goat Eldritch Goat HTCOR HTCOR LokiPokie LokiPokie
 
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Oh YES!

"Well, I do recall this, my dear friend. Look at the white haired one- the branded one. He's like us!" A chorus of sound echoed behind him, words and grunts. "Like us, like us!"

Comedy made his way right on over to them, watching him squirm in agony from the sheer influx of memories. "Do you think, do you think! He might be one of us, one of us! Or...one of his. One of his!" Comedy began to cackle. "Tragedy. Let them go- call off the wolves. This one is not normal. Can you smell it of this adventuring party? Salt, Blood, Iron, Light- and a scent missing!" A face caressed, as a pair of eyes were stared directly into. "Nothing behind them, yet I can tell there's a beauty to it! Tragedy! Mend their wounds, plant the fields with our mark. All but that one- we cannot touch him, for His will is too strong compared to ours- a crying shame, is it not?"

A mask removed, as Comedy's true face was revealed to none but his partner, a serious look to his features. "Brother. Hopefully, things do not go sour with them. Mark them with your presence, and let us know Our Kin is rewarded." With that, Comedy ripped through the air- his presence withdrawing to deeper into the woods.
 
"Oh NO"
[BOSS]
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The whims of its partner never ceased to deny the wishes of Tragedy. Their task was to rid their home of pests and nothing more. Needless risks were the reason so many nuisances knew of this place, and why their jobs had become that much more taxing. It was incorrect, however, for Tragedy to not hold the same interest as Comedy. As the strands of possible futures continued to warp its mind, twisting its perception of reality in a plethora of opportunities, a hint of curiosity was apparent on one of the horror's faces. There was no ignoring the peculiarities of this unnatural get-together of unlikely allies. Was there something underneath their unappealing surface?

"Consider it done, Brother." As the other vanished in thin air, Tragedy began to work. A green light erupted from one of its unseemly hands, twisting and warping before it engulfed each and every hero. In a slow and meticulous manner, their wounds began to heal. Flesh rearranged itself and grew in an unnatural speed, the eldritch magic bolstering their regenerative abilities. Even those with missing limbs found no difficulty in reaching their original state as if the harm had never been inflicted. The green wisp then faded, their forms good as new. It felt wrong to help those that invaded their home, but there was a hidden potential that the grotesque being was unable to deny.

"I cannot say that I have the same ideals as Comedy," Tragedy said, a nail being dragged along Silen's face. "My motivations are of a different ilk. Let us hope that our paths never cross again, for the sake of us all." As his finger halted, a symbol etched its way into the select few that Tragedy had chosen, before vanishing entirely. "If not, then I look forward to the future you will show me." Then, without another sound, they were transported out of the forest.

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