Fantasy That Time the Demon Lord Killed our Party Leader: Ic

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

Once Avia freed them from their manacles, he rubbed the sore wrists of his, bruised and dotted with blisters. The gladiator's eyes, blue as cloudless summer sky and deeper than the ocean, traveled up from the wrist to the forearm to the bicep. He smiled with tight lips, his veins popping, both because he was dehydrated and irritated. Much, much work must be done once they've freed themselves. To reforge themselves in the fires of vindication, or die and be broken like a blade in the hands of a poor blacksmith. He clenched his fists, now that fire from his heart traveled to his eyes, he pounded a knuckle into his palm before going off after the Avia, the Stranger, and the rest of his companions.

As they walked, his ears were tickled by Aaxir's words, the man's eyes lit up like the moonglow on an ocean's wave. Good, good, this is quite good. He tastes the metallic disdain from the young dragon's words. Even that low growl held some bite in it. A laugh that snaked up from his belly is released against the prison walls. It is deceptively merry and joyful. "I would expect nothing less from a dragon such as yourself, Aaxir, my friend." He speaks firmly, but noticeably softer than his reprimanding tone from before. Then Tiberius corrected Aaxir's confusion. "But I do expect self-discipline." He intoned the importance of that word. No, that concept. Tiberius could almost predict the young dragon's thoughts, he wondered if his own merriment deceived Aaxir into the false belief that the gladiator, himself, curried favour with the idea of camaraderie and laughter and luck were all one needs to win a battle. A foolish stance. They were important notions, certainly, but Tiberius never allowed himself to rise above the mountain peaks, the clouds, the stars. That is why he put his mettle to the test, from dawn to dusk, now and forever. He understood the dragon's feelings intimately. A Tiberius only four years younger would have felt the same as he. In fact, the younger Tiberius would've been worse; malicious, petulant, and more bitter than a lime. He would've kicked the dust from their cells on Eleanor's worn body and spat venom on her tattered spirit. He hopes that Aaxir does not fall into the same pitfalls and suffer Tiberius' lessons.

The fire from Ifrit, Tiberius paused and his face sweats, eyes averted to avoid the brightness. Paradoxically and impulsively, he thought, what kind of name is Ifrit? The hot air lapped at the edge of his skin. And yet it still felt colder than the one he felt in his soul. He edged deeper into the emanating heat, seeking to taste it more, but he stopped himself for better or worse. The inferno left behind smouldering corpses, corpses that reeked of sweetness, like a steak over the bonfire, their bodies' red muscle gave that stench, he recalled from his medicinal knowledge. Then their fat was seared and it smelt like pork slow-roasted against a bed of charcoals. And lastly, the coppery aroma of it all, that was their blood being boiled in their tubes. He wrinkled his nose at the barbarity of it all, eliciting memories a lifetime ago.

And then... Then Avia led them to their weapons. And it befuddled him. Why were they here? Why not send them off to the farthest corners of Olrodia, under careful watch, lock and key. Did his blasted Emperor truly thought so lowly of them, did he truly not anticipate an attempted rescue? Drunk on his victory? Furrowed eyes stared as everyone collect their weapons and their Gods came with them. Tiberius flew as well, matching their excitement, his feet like linen cloth on a tumultuous wind. Then he stopped in front of his spatha and he began, strangely, to whistle. It was an Olrodian tune. His lips puckered and loosened in perfect sync to create a melodious sound, memorised by the heart, from the heart. His finger touched the spatha's point then trailed down the center ridge to the bottom-rounded guard. He wrapped his fingers on the ridged grip.

Then he felt the folds of a mantle go over his shoulders and close to the center of his sternum. A mantle with a brooch. He felt a heaviness on his back, except it wasn't like a cape. His eyes close as he continued to whistle that song. He felt skin press against his — divine skin, smoother than marble. He stops and now looks down. He recognizes those arms, those hands clasped over his chest. The locks of hair, blacker than onyx and yet more beautiful than obsidian, dance across his crown then rest aside his temple, his shaggy, dry hair contrasted her wavy-delicate.

"Miss me?" The Goddess lips whispered the sweet words into Tiberius ears. The fingers re-enter his clay-mold.

"Yes." He answered simply, softly back.

The Goddess whose skin was fairer than crystal clear water on a beach, with a beauty that surpassed a starry nightsky, lifted her dainty fingers to his chin. She led his head subtly to the side. Leaning over soundlessly for their eyes to meet. Azures against the shifting brilliance. The look lasted only a heartbeat, but it felt like an eternity of staring into the void.

Her eyes grew wider, giggling mirthfully. Tiberius turned to the side in her misty grip and leaned in with squinted eyes trying to find what the Goddess found so humourous in her eyes. She stroked the mane down his neck then danced fingers from shoulder to shoulder. "Hhhhmmm?" She voiced. "How's Pollux?" He held his gaze before the half-mist, half-human form of Qin rubbed herself across back to his left side. "He longs for his friend, my dear gladiator." Tiberius only nodded and issued a grunt of understanding.

They do indeed have work to do.

Yes, we do. The Goddess bit her lower lip as she touched temples with Tiberius before winking away.

 

[Kibaa]

Khatiy of Usaama

One by one, the reunited group of heroes was able to collect its missing members, finding Chrome and the rest of their missing allies in the rest of the cells. With Mahina and Tatag in their tow, onwards they marched towards the armory.

With the help of Nomad and Ifrit, the group punched a scorching hole into the armory, melting their way through Tiryan's guard and arriving at their destination. The holding place of their relics, a sight that brought individual strength and joy to every party member present. For the time being, it seemed each party member would go on into a solitary moment of reunification with their chosen god, the first step towards restoring their much needed strength.

Khatiy in particular walked slowly towards her belongings-- The gilded Khopesh of Amanirenas, and the golden Sistrum of Bastet, crossed into an ornamental 'X' as they hung from a plaque on the wall. Brown-red blood still stained the form of their metallurgy, from the conflict all those months ago. And yet, Khatiy's attention seemed hardly attentive to those two weapons. Instead, as she stepped forward to the plaques, all of her attention and energy seemed to focus then on the three little summoning stones that had been placed over a cushion beneath the plaque.

The Usaaman's brows furrowed with visible anger at what she saw. The stones were cracked, hollow. Empty. Her hand trembled with fury as it softly traveled downwards to attempt to grab one of them, only to feel how brittle and delicate they had become. Any who were looking towards Khatiy at this point would find that her facial features had morphed drastically. Two menacing fangs protruded outwards from her mouth, not like those of a vampire, rather like those of a lion. Feueled by idle strands of mana coming from the proximity of the Sistrum of Bastet, fur and animalistic features manifested themselves across Khatiy's features with raw anger.

Khatiy was a beautiful woman, but the truth was that it was all a facade. For she was no human, no. Khatiy was born a monster, and it was all she'd ever be, regardless of the blessings and magics that made her appear human. This was the evil curse that had haunted her since her very birth, a curse that was only partially reversed through the blessing of the Lion Patriarch. Control of this curse was only given through the application of a secondary curse later in life, the Curse of Bastet. As her fingertip trailed over one of the stones, her voice trembled with emotion, almost as if she was holding back the urge to cry. Anger was the only emotion that could be picked up from her tone. "Notlatlayenuan, nimitskuepiltis... (My dearest friends... I will avenge you!!)." The eyes of the Usaaman burned with a bright red fury, those of the wrathful lion spirit that her grandfather had sealed within her at birth. Clenching her fist, Khatiy would close her eyes, reaching out to grab the Sistrum from the wall.

When her eyes would once more open, her features would have returned to normality, back to her human beauty, as the presence of Bastet makes itself known right infront of her.
"Lady Bastet..." The Usaaman greeted, uncertainty evident in her tone.
"Lady Khatiy." Bastet would remark, and the two seemed to adress one another with mutual respect. Unlike many of of her fellow party members who appeared to have such close, personal bonds with their gods, it seemed that Khatiy and Bastet were mutual acquiantances at best. For their agreement, their bond, was simple and small. Khatiy was her champion, who would vow to use the blessings bestowed upon her to protect nature as well as humans from the otherwise more deadly aspects of nature, and in exchange, Bastet's Curse allowed Khatiy to appear human. But beyond this, the two were not exactly best friends.
"How long has it been? 5 months, perhaps?"
"4, my Lady. Tell me, what has become of the land? And of my people?"
Bastet closed her eyes for a moment. Compared to many of the gods present right now, Bastet, a minor goddess, seemed relatively normal, almost human-like, even. Like Khatiy, she had clearly distinguishable feline features.
Bastet seemed hesitant to reply.
"The fate of the continent remains for you and your party to decide, Lady Khatiy." The Goddess of Cats replied vaguely, crossing her arms.
"I am sure you realize that the annihilation of the Sages of the Savannah at the hands of Tiryan... Has brought about a grave unbalance at the borders of Alkebu-Lan and Aztlan. War has returned to your land. Usaama has been invaded, and is under siege."

"I have been a fool..." Khatiy laments, bringing her gaze to the floor.
"Perhaps." Remarked Bastet.
"I have lost everything that is dear to me. I have brought ruin to my people."

"Not yet, Lady Khatiy. Know that your father rules as Sultan once more in your absence, and has struck a temporary alliance with the neighboring states of Nasaama and Kahatlan in an effort to preserve one another. Though, if you are to remain here sulking, instead of taking action now in this most serendipitous window of opportunity, then ruin will truly come. Take my Sistrum once more, and go. Together, you and your friends must all restore order.

"These people are not my frie---"

"You may not consider these heroes to be your friends, Lady Khatiy. But they consider you a friend. Very well, then. Perhaps your real friends may restore a little joy in you. Here, your dearest companions have missed you." Before Khatiy could even react, Bastet lurched a finger forward, as from her sharp nail would emanate three spiritual presences. Only those with spiritual abilities such as Kaida would be able to physically see the three spirits that came forth, but Khatiy, as their master, could certainly feel and indentify their presence, as those three spiritual rays descend towards the three broken stones.

A gasp escaped the Usaaman, her attention fixating quickly upon the stones, which seemed to resuscitate with newfound life. "... Tlazotli! (My beloved!)" She would speak to the stones, craddling the three of them softly within her arms. Khatiy no longer cared for the presence of Bastet, selfishly not even thanking the goddess, as all of her attention would be dedicated to the stones now. A happy reunion, to be sure, and yet the sight was almost sad to see. As perhaps it would have become clear to the party now, that Khatiy has never been able to get along with other humans and heroes because of the two curses that haunt her, and that her spirits and animals are the only things she has ever held dear. The only things she has truly been able to call her friends. The three stones shine lowly with light, but they remained cracked, weakened. Their spiritual energy was not at its fullest.

Sheathing the Sistrum at one side of her waist, and returning the Khopesh of Amanirenas to its rightful sheath slung behind her shoulder, Khatiy proceeded to clip the summoning stones to her waist as well, and turn her attention towards the party. With two hands, she took into her fingertips the Lion Crown, restoring it to its place at her forehead, shifting her long, wavy locks backwards as a ray of golden light and a divine clink emanates from being restored to her head. The Sultan had returned.

Khatiy approaches Nomad, her feline eyes gleaming with determination.
"Nomad... You have said you can cast a teleportation circle. I must ask that you teleport me to Alkebu-Lan. I am afraid that for the time being, I must return home. My people are depending on my return, and I must restore my spirits to full strength." Khatiy had other plans in motion as well. Although her three dearest and strongest spirits had survived the war, many of Usaama's spirits and animals had been vanquished during the conflict where Arlux was slain. Khatiy had to regather herself and her arsenal. From behind Khatiy, Bastet observed with a complacent nod, not necesarilly agreeing nor disagreeing with Khatiy's choice of actions, before vanishing to whence she came from with a glimpse of orange light.

Mentions: Mahina You Know Rebel Tatag Auda Kaida Beann Chrome DSLIX
Interactions: Nomad Nessi

 

[Nessi]

Eleanor

Eleanor felt Enthy lift her from off the ground, and her body naturally held unto her draconic comrade. She could see Yi Nuo, and a new face, or rather, a new mask that seemed to have assisted the old elf in rescuing the motley crew.
Everyone seemed to have a newfound sense of hope at the sight of freedom, but of course, this could not be said about Eleanor. She still looked just as hopeless as she did a mere 30 minutes ago, but such things didn’t stop Enthy from carrying Eleanor.

Eleanor hung onto Enthy as best as she could, but when the group came to a sliding halt, Eleanor almost laughed at the sight of all the soldiers.
“Fools, all of you. To think you could escape our fates, we have lo-” Before Eleanor could finish her own thought, the group of guards began to melt due to the intense flames that were rained upon them by a summon called Ifrit. The onslaught ended in a flash, and the stench of rotting flesh filled Eleanors nostrils, but with it, a small glimpse of hole swelled in her chest. She gripped unto Enthy just a bit tighter as she was carried over to the weapons.

Enthy gently propped Eleanor on a wall, and shortly after, the dragon brought her Paimon’s Talwar. For the first time in months, Eleanor moved, extending her arm to grab the blade.
“You’ve seen better days, haven’t you?” A familiar voice said.
Eleanor looked up, and saw the man who had changed her life, the Eternal King Paimon.
“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” Paimon said with a smirk.
Eleanor stayed quiet, causing Paimon to sigh, and set himself down next to his hero. He leaned his hero against his shoulder, and gently stroked her hair, staring out into the distance.
At first, Eleanor continued to be expressionless, but after a moment or so, life began to return to the hopeless hero’s eyes, in the form of tears. It started off quietly, but like a dam bursting open, soon the waterworks would flow out of the hero, and she’d bury her face into the chest of her patron god.
At first, Paimon was caught off guard, but he quickly embraced Eleanor fully, gently rubbing her back and giving her the comfort she needed.

Eventually, Eleanor would stop sobbing, and Paimon would pull her face away from his chest.
“You’ve done well, making it so far. I know it feels like everything is lost…but that’s not the case. You still have comrades alive, you still have friends that are alive that are worth fighting for.” Paimon said softly. The Eternal King took the Talwar from Eleanor’s hands, and the blade transformed into her preferred longsword.
“There is still much to do, Eleanor. It’s time to pick up the sword, and fight once more, because you’ve been given an opportunity to do what you couldn’t do before, you can save your family.” Paimon whispered, handing Eleanor her blade.

Eleanor took her blade, and for the first time in months, she slowly, but surely, rose from the ground. Paimon offered her assistance, but Eleanor slapped him away, getting herself off the ground.
“I’m here…I’m back, and I’ll fight.” Eleanor said.
“That’s good, because there’s still much to do.” Paimon remarked, patting Eleanor on the shoulder before disappearing back into the sword.

 

[Nessi]

Guō Yī Nuò

Yi Nuo could hear the heartwarming reunions between god and hero occur, and couldn’t help but smirk to herself.
“Looks like someone is in a good mood.” Nomad remarked, carefully and neatly drawing strange symbols into the stone floor with chalk.
“I’m just glad things went smoothly…with the remaining heroes free, we may have a chance of winning this war, Nomad.” the old elf remarked.
“Oh yeah? Say your right, and we end up winning this war, what would you do?” Nomad asked.
“...I’d find my children first, and then return home. Live the rest of my life out in peace, do lots of fishing…hopefully my grandchildren will visit.” Yi Nuo chuckled.
“Maybe after the war, my oldest will learn how to clean up after themselves.” Nomad responded.

Before the pair could continue their conversation, Khatiy would come, requesting that she be taken back to her homeland, rather than to where the rest were going.
“No can do, this teleportation circle is linked to another one that was set up earlier, so it can only transport us there…and besides, if what your saying is correct, then even if I could, you’d just be walking to your death if you rushed into battle in your current condition, it wo-” Before Nomad could finish speaking, a streak of blue light would fly through the hallway in which they arrived in the room. Those blue lights went into two spirit gems that were under Nomads cloak.

“Oh no, no no no no no…that just won’t do at all, I simply cannot allow you to go where you please.” A cold, but familiar voice called out from the darkness. A red projectile flew out from the hallway, and shattered Ifrit’s head, causing the summon to return to its spirit gem.
“Khatiy, tell the other heroes to come now…one of Tiryan’s hands has shown up.” Yi Nuo said calmly, before drawing her dao.
“Oh, it is quite the honor to be remembered by the legendary mentor.” the voice called back. From the darkness, finally emerged Tiryan’s hand. He had white hair, with a silver helmet that covered his entire face, a black cloak made of raven feathers, and a blade that resembled a katana.
“How could I forget that voice…Parzival the Lost.” Yi Nuo growled, her eyes becoming more feline like. Before Parzival could even respond, Yi Nuo launched herself at the swordsman, clashing with him.
“I won’t let you get to them!” Yi Nuo roared.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to stop me,” Parzival stated, pushing back against the old moon elf.

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Huang San

Huang San raises his head, as Yi Nuo and Parzifal clash. The Hand of Tiryan was here. He was there when Arlux died. He was there by Tiryan's side. The farmhand watches as the grandmotherly elf battles fiercely with the Hand, watching and waiting. He walks forward with slow, deliberate steps. The battle rages, and Huang simply approaches at a leisurely pace. Yi Nuo finds Parzifal pressing her back for a moment, forced to retreat to the side., giving the Hand of Tiryan a free shot towards the other heroes. Towards Huang. Parzifal surges forward, as Huang raises his staff.

Something flashes in Huang San's eyes. He knows he can't win. He can't even survive against Parzifal for more than a few exchanges. He would lose a fair fight.

But since when did the Chosen of Sun Wukong fight fair?

"Ruyi. Shrink." Huang shrinks his weapon down to the size of a conductor's baton, his face intent and beaded with sweat as he musters up what little mana he has. Then, he flicks the tiny Ruyi with his hand, intoning another word. "Multiply."

A spray of tiny iron staffs spray towards Parzifal, but they aren't aimed at him- They coat the floor, little slippery False Ruyi Jingu Bangs forming a carpet that forces Parzifal to watch his footing, control his movement, lest he step upon one incorrectly and slip. It wasn't much. But it would buy time, and Huang knew that the others needed time to launch their own efforts against the Hand.

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Nessi

Mentions: ThatWhichShouldBe

The first hint of warmth she’d felt within the past four months was shocked cold by an intruder. A sudden flash of blue alerted Enthy of the shift in the situation, and she lunged forward to hurriedly rip Veritas’s sword off the wall. With both tome and blade in hand, she turned to face the intruder, thoughts running a mile a minute upon realizing the identity of the masked vampire. Though their numbers greatly outnumbered their opponent’s, only a fool who put their pride above reason would believe that this put them at an advantage. Yī Nuò may have taken the initiative to land the first hit, but Parzival’s arrogance—no, confidence—wasn’t unfounded. The heroes were far from being fit to fight. Their only hope lied in Nomad completing the teleportation circle before the royal vampire tore them all to shreds.

Nodding at Huang San and his decision to obstruct rather than push, Enthy retreated a few steps behind the other heroes. Her lips moved to recite a soundless chant, and the tome held in her right hand flipped to a page roughly two-thirds through its contents as particles of light began to congregate towards the aged paper. Though her expression remained calm, the spell was woven with a great deal of care, ensuring that she didn’t waste a single drop of her already limited mana when fine-tuning the parameters of the spell. With a final flourish, the dragon stabbed her sword into the floor of the dungeon.

As soon as the clang of metal hitting stone rang out, a translucent wall rose up from the floor behind Enthy, separating Nomad and those who chose to stick by the teleportation circle from Parzival. The lights of the torches illuminating the room flickered through the deep gold of the barrier, casting a fractured amber shadow on the floor within its boundary. It appeared fragile, like a thin sheet of stained glass or citrine, and said assumption wouldn’t be false. The barrier was exceptionally fragile from Nomad’s side to the point where a light knock upon its surface would bring it crumbling down. While forming the barrier, Enthy had dedicated only the bare minimum to its outer side of the wall in exchange for the inversely proportional increase in the strength of the inner side. Given the lack of resources to work off of, she doubted it would hold under much fire and had been forced to reduce its size to cover only one part of the room, but hopefully it would be able to deter Parzival once or twice should he manage to slip behind the line of heroes. In the best case scenario, the barrier would be reduced to an unnecessary final line of defense.

Having dedicated most of her energy to the barrier, Enthy stumbled while attempting to remove her sword from where she’d wedged it into the floor. However, she was quick to recover and poise herself for whatever antics the royal vampire had up his sleeve.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions: Nessi
Mentions: Nano ThatWhichShouldBe

Aaxir was reflecting upon the conversation as he made his way back toward the Hag. He had spoken confidently to Tutu Pele, but even Aaxir realized it would be a long road before they were able to attack the Crimson King. Of course, there was an unyielding urge to immediately waltz to the new king and knock him off his thrown in order to rinse away the heavy stench of defeat and hopelessness. That said, Aaxir was not so blinded by revenge as to realistically consider that as an option. The more immediate threat, however, was themselves. He didn't trust his...were they even comrades at this point? What was this group of defeated heroes. What would they do once they escaped? Together, with Arlux, they had only managed to just barely lose to Tiryan. What could they do now? They weren't enough, but they would have to be.

Suddenly an eerie, momentary, stillness enveloped the prison. Aaxir felt it before he saw what happened. He knew this wasn't a matter of supreme instinct, but the skill of the enemy. Inconceivable as it might have been, he was able to strike so quickly that he was just now processing what his body had already witnessed. The very same summoning that decimated the guards in mere seconds was not but a wisp, and suddenly the personification of death had taken its place. The Hag was the first to respond and the clashing of blades that followed woke Aaxir out of his trance. Nevertheless, everything still seemed to move in slow motion as Aaxir's mind raced as he instinctively took off in Parzival's direction. Parzival, the teleportation circle, and their current state. Mana was scarce for the heroes. Lightning? Aaxir likely could only manage one bolt of lightning, but it was already a difficult power to control, he could not afford to waste that power by attacking haphazardly.

Aaxir snickered realizing he would have to rely on the other heroes if they were to make it out in one piece. Nevertheless, no matter his state, Aaxir would not back down. He was certain that coming out alive might come with a few scrapes, so he prepared himself for a rather unpleasant battle. With a draconic roar Aaxir shouted as loud as he could while sprinting in the direction of Parzival. "IT'S ONE OF THE HANDS!" That's all they would need to know in order to realize their predicament. To his surprise Huang and Enthy were already on the move. Haung sending a storm of tiny staffs to litter the ground around the enemy no doubt to disrupt the enemy movements and Enthy, quickly realizing the nature of the game and the win conditions. He would have to applaud her quick thinking once they made it out. Aaxir would burst past them all then past Yi Nuo before spinning to his right and land a bone crushing kick on Parzifal's neck only to realize the room had become inverted before he could connect his strike. Aaxir was suddenly looking up at his own body..statuesque in mid attack before it collapsed at Parzifal's feet...Aaxir was decapitated. Decapitated, stabbed in the heart, repelled, used to drag Yi Nuo in his folly, and obliterated in every way with relative ease. "Damn it...have I fallen this far?" Aaxir could barely contain the disdain he had for himself as he took control of his instincts and stopped his charge well before reaching the enemy. No matter how he envisioned the battle, there were no openings and no feasible way for him to get in close. Despite having to savor the taste of being outmatched, letting the enemy past him was not an option. "...I won't let him get past me," Aaxir said almost as if to convince himself. He would have to create an opening. With another roar, mostly out of frustration, Aaxir thrust his hands into the ground below him, creating pieces of rubble he quickly superheated until they were glowing red. Like miniature comets, the super heated rubble left his hands and rocketed toward Parzival. Aaxir continued to move around the battlefield, assuming that Parzifal would live through such a feeble attack. Aaxir could not help but feel shame wash over him while using such tactics, but he was desperate...and weak. They had not recovered in any sense of the word, so in order to make any headway they would have maximize the efficiency of their attacks. Of course, he could have mustered a bit more, but with this being the start of the battle, it was best to observe the enemy and save whatever power he had left in crucial moments.

 

[Beann]

Suzuki Kaida

The goddess’ lips curved into a small smile as she watched her hero devour the bread. “Arigato,” the hero managed through a mouthful. “Do not speak with your mouth full,” her smile vanished as she scolded Kaida with a stern look. The kitsune quickly chewed the rest of the bread, wiping away crumbs from the corners of her lips. “Apologies. I am just so happy to see you again, Kami-sama.” Inari let out a soft sigh, placing a hand gently on top of her hero’s head, “and I as well my —” the goddess’ eyes narrowed as her attention was pulled by blue streaks of light. “Prepare yourself,” she warned before vanishing into the katana that Kaida held in her hands.

With a hint of confusion written on her face, the kitsune turned just in time to see a familiar figure reveal themselves. Obachan was quick to react, her blade meeting Parzival’s own. Fighting Tiryan’s hand in their current state was not ideal, did they even stand a chance? As she watched Huang and Aaxir charge in to assist the old moon elf, she was quickly reminded of their strength in numbers. Kaida considered rushing in as well, though her swordsmanship skills may be a bit rusty over the months, she was sure she would be able to help. However, her weakened physical state steered her away from that plan.

Instead, she looked around at the rest of the heroes. Her bright red eyes settled on the healer of their group. No one was fatally injured yet so…what’s the harm in asking for some mana? “Kai…” she cooed, stumbling over to him. Her ears flattened as she gave him her best pleading look, “could you perhaps spare some mana? Just a tiny bit will do.” Once she was given permission to siphon his mana, Kaida would happily embrace her fellow hero and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. A rush of mana coursed through her body, it wasn’t enough to return even a single tail but it was enough to bring back the light that was lost in her eyes. “Thank you, dear. I will repay you later~”

Pulling away from Kai, she wasted no time spending that precious mana as she bowed her head and whispered a quiet prayer. “Spirits near and far, I call upon a capable warrior to fight against Tiryan’s forces.” A faint light appeared before the kitsune, growing brighter and brighter by the second until finally, a spirit manifested in the form of a demi human. Kaida couldn’t help but blink at the sight of his corrupted appearance but what mattered was the katana he held at his side. “Thank you for lending your aid, dear sp—”

“You summoned me to a prison?” The spirit’s jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at the kitsune. “Yes, we are currently trying to escape.” She replied as calmly as she could but her eyes shifted back and forth between the spirit and the battle that was happening behind him. The spirit looked over his shoulder to assess the situation before looking back at Kaida. He exhaled loudly through his nose before turning around fully, “a prison of all places,” he hissed as he unsheathed his katana and charged into the fray.

Bloody_Death

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

He circled his shoulders as the tremendous weight flew off his back. It felt warm. Good. Like the morning sun's caress on the skin. But Tiberius did not let himself be swept off his feet. They were still in the prison and as he dragged the rectangular scutum that complemented his spatha, he girded himself for the treacherous path ahead. But he looked towards the others as well, he saw the light of hope in their eyes, rekindled from the embers with their reunion of their respective Gods. He admits that he enjoyed looking at a lot of them, like Kaida's faint smile and bread chewing, even Eleanor's soul reinhabited her body once Paimon returned, that gave Tiberius sweet relief. It is a terrible sight to see one's spirit be broken, chained, and reduced.

Howe'er, in spite of their heartfelt reunions, in spite of the joy that they felt, this scene... wouldn't last. The first omen was the streak of lights, twins in the air, that flew back into Nomad's cloak. The warrior's experience told him what those wisps were, or rather, were they were heading; spirit gems. That means the masked ally's summons were trounced. Then the second, and final, omen of their destruction: the voice belonging to one of the Tiryan's crooked Hands. It all happened fast, yet, despite Tiberius condition, it all unfolded with crystal clarity. In fact, he saw his own body from behind his shoulder. Rough mane flowing down and all. Parzival, Tiberius spat his name onto the ground and stamped on it. Avia Yī Nuò was the first to respond, while Nomad prepared the teleportation circle, the gladiator picked up the name of this game immediately.

Tiberius lowered his scarred eyebrows and flourished his sword. Enthy provided the greatest opening move in this game. He'd compliment the dragon later for her ingenuity and quick thinking. If there is a later. He watches as the rest blast past him. Such bravery, he applauds them. Tiberius took an altogether different approach.

He ducked through the amber-lined barrier, constructed by their faithful dragon, then took several, measured steps. The scutum would've weighed heavy on his arm, but the chemical fire of adrenaline and cortisol made it feel as light as air. He breathed. He centers himself as one with the battlefield. "Polux," He wordlessly commanded. The space beside him folded and converged into a single point as hands, thinner than they should be, crawled their way into realspace. Their eyes lock, the once-behemoth flashed him with a smile at seeing his friend. Tiberius looked to Polux' lithe form and understood the value of his own weakness now. He could not summon him to full-strength, except this will have to be enough. It must be enough.

The gladiator stepped forward and lowered his stance with his shield in front. He slammed the edges of his tools, the spatha pulled back and grinded a shriek of metal upon metal. Polux then melded to the deepest shadow, ready and able to assist his master's chosen.

He stood there. Almost like a statue of flesh, one couldn't even tell if he was breathing without his chest remained so fixed. So focused on Parzival's movement that if he tried to move past or attack him, the penultimate Bulwark, then this hand of Tiryan might break his fingers upon him. He wasn't ignorant of himself though, he knew that he could match the enemy for only so many exchanges, but that will be enough for now. In fact, the gladiator smirked at the challenge.

 

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

Chrome despite his friendly but drained expression was rather on high alert impressed with Nomad's show of abilities by cooking a room of guards but was rather irritated by how little blood he could drain from burnt corpses. Regardless he did what he can to regain his energy and focus getting at least a quarter of his strength back with what little blood around. He refused to speak only feeling the heavy stare of Hanuman in his being knowing the god probably has something to say for the first time in awhile and quietly sighed running beside Lady Guo. Reaching the room with the band of....heroes? They certainly didn't look the part currently but luckily some of his old companions still had their impeccable wills. Those who didn't have the will or simply the ability from the stay in this draining prison we're soon being consoled by their chosen deity and reigniting the fight in him. Chrome let a smile as he looked at the room watching the somewhat wholesome interactions between some of the heroes and gods until he hears the heavy and firm voice of his own god in his mind "Are you entertained with the fact you couldn't protect them? If you just decided to follow Arlux and assist her like I suggested the present could've been the one you pray for." The god's words ring through Chrome's head bring a slight feeling of nausea that makes him grit his teeth slightly Chrome knows he's right as he understands that the thought of celebrating the win over Tiryan and his army with his companions in a new era of recovery and peace. He responds in a monotone voice with a hint of frustration "Scold me as you wish but you should know better than anyone how I feel." The god words sparking up a fire in him again which he can't help but notice that always seem to be the case when they have an interaction but the thought only fueling his calm rage. His god replies sounding unmoved "Then I hope you will do better this time around?" The god despite his way of speaking truly hopes Chrome does do better and lives to his true potential, and Chrome responds with "This will be the last time for Tiryan." He tries to forget about the feeling by looking over his companions again and their interactions finding it peaceful as they wait to be teleported, but soon he has a sudden fit of paranoia feelings things have been way too easy so far. He feels a deep focus come over him as the bad feeling in his chest make him look around out side the area feeling something bad is about to happen.

Chrome's paranoia was only proven to be correct when their masked savior Nomad seemed to be distressed by the sudden number of spirits returning to their stone which already alarmed Chrome of danger incoming. Then it became more certain when Chrome smelled the stench of the familiar vampire hand's blood the smell bringing back a imaginary pain in a few wounds reliving a few seconds of weeks on weeks of torture the hand put him through and he felt his calm rage suddenly flare up and a feeling of anger pulse through him so strong he flinched as it surged through his body. Then he heard the footsteps followed behind the spirit of Ifrit being defeated and the blood-sucking Hand appeared before him the sight of the man making Chrome clench his fists in a relenting anger holding a unforgiveable grudge against Parzival and all the other Hands, and he watched almost helplessly as Lady Guo and his other companions quickly start preparing and combating against Parzival. Chrome felt his heart twist as something in his mind snapped and a nasty desire for violence and blood filled Chrome's heart completely. He takes a moment to breathe and find some sense of control over himself closing his eyes and making the yelling voice of Aaxir fade into nothingness. He takes a few deep breathes feeling the blood flow throughout his body and hearing the heartbeats and blood flowing throughout his teammates feeling their adrenaline and anxiety as he gains control over his mind being able to think rationally while still feeling an unprecedented amount of adrenaline and violent urges empower his recovering body. With one last deep breath after taking a moment Chrome opens his eyes with a scary and sadistic expression creeping across his face locking his eyes on Parzival keeping a strong focus on his movements.



Chrome approached Parzival walking at first his vampire instincts making him start to see and hear the beating hearts and flowing blood of everyone around him holding back the urge to just go straight at the hand. Then seeing Aaxir launch the red hot rocks at Parzival he pinched his finger hard enough to cause a drop of blood to leak out giving him a pathway to drain blood out the wound and create thick gauntlets of blood over his arms and hands to help protect him losing his limbs from Parzival's sword familiar with it's sharpness already. He then launches himself foward charging at Parzival but not before ripping some cell bars out the ground and launching them at Parzival as well. Moving to a different angle after launching his first attack and looking to attack from a blind spot at the same time as Kaida's summoned spirit attack. Making his blood gauntlets resemble claws now planning to drain whatever blood he could get out of Parzival from his attacks.

 

[Defined Comedy]

Kaleo Haukea

Pulling away from the goddess embrace, Kaleo broke from her brief absorption in that tender moment. Now standing on her own once more, she looked up at the goddess slightly taller form. "You look better with some color in your face. Though it would be better if you had washed up first." The sweet, yet firm, teasing remark the goddess shot at Kaleo was met with a shrug. "If the option were available, believe me, I would. I don't suppose you have another equally charming, sister who's the goddess of baths, do you?" Against her otherwise pale complexion, the red mark on the smirking vampire's face was rather prevalent. The 'greeting', which resulted in the numbing sting in her face, had blown away some small portion of her fatigue and instead filled her body with some semblance of vigor.

As she turned her gaze back towards the other heroes, she carefully noted the shift in their forms, the recent image of their hollow expressions still fresh in her mind. Once, a room full of tattered and broken dolls lay motionless, abandoned by their puppeteer and cast into a forgotten recess. But those severed threads were tied, clumsily knotted, and held crudely together. If only in that moment, they all seemed hopeful. Hope was such a fickle emotion. "How wonderful-" Turning quickly towards the hall, a chill ran down her spine, and as two streaks of blue raced towards their newfound companion, she could tell that the moment of reprieve had received its curtain call. "A hui hou kakou (Until We Meet Again)" A cooling sensation spread from her cheek as a sudden burst of frost washed over her. Crystals of ice clung to her neglected locks as Poli'ahu vanished back to her spear.

Rushing through the now vacant space, Kaleo made haste in moving closer to the sound of clashing blades. The roaring reverberations of her companions voices were more than enough to explain the situation. As the all-too-familiar voice of yet another masked individual crept closer, she could do little to suppress the narrowing of her eyes, involuntarily glaring as his cloaked form stained the otherwise bland canvas of the dungeon around them. As the hand held his own against Yi Nuo, her brows began to knit; simply put, she could only view the opposing vampire as "Inconvenience."

A familiar sickly sweet smell teased her—rich and metallic. Only now had she begun to notice how dry her throat felt, and only now had she started to feel that gnashing feeling growing more violent deep in her stomach. The months in that cell had robbed her of strength, so much so that even such a faint scent was clouding her mind now. It was shameful for such a minuscule amount of blood to be so bewitching. It had never been this bad in three hundred years. Even now, she could feel the dryness continuing to spread, soaking up every ounce of moisture as it began spreading through her mouth. Lips parting slightly, her fangs ached to be used, strings of saliva snapping as the predatory lust swelled.

Her fangs would find purchase against the interior of her own lip as rationality returned once again. She hadn't lost control of her thirst in all this time, and today was not going to be any different. Scoffing at her own foolishness, a puff of condensation would leave her mouth, hints of her own metallic flavor mingling within the chilled air. As she once again assessed the situation, Kaleo would take post on the exterior side of her dragonoid companion's barrier. In her current condition, countering her opposition through physical means would be nothing but a death sentence—not until she recovered more, but if the worst came to pass, she may have been able to take a few hits.

Turning her spearhead to the ground, she would quickly thrust the blade between a divide in the flooring beneath them. For the first time in awhile, she could feel the cooling flow circulating through her veins, coiling and coursing alongside her lifeforce. Mana. While it wasn't an enormous amount, it would have to suffice for now. Her prior glare had been exchanged for a focused gaze, her eyes drifting through the battlefield as each movement was observed. Her eyes watched for any misstep or opportunity, and as her mana continued to circulate, a frigid patch would begin to form around her grounded spearhead. The moment their foe attempted to improve their situation in the conflict, she would send thin spears of ice to intercept or attempt to pierce him. Charging in was a foolhardy endeavor for the current her, but utilizing what little mana she had in this way might better the odds of those who chose an up-close confrontation.

Now, it was just a matter of time.

 

[Auda]

Tatag

Tatag could feel someone carry him on their back, but the person was definitely not Arlux. It took him some time to realize that it was Kai instead, and that the reassuring words were from Khatiy. The ent was sure that he was going to spend the last of his days trapped inside the cell, and now that they were making their escape, the familiar—but at the same time, not—feeling of hope thrummed beneath his bark. However, as they made their way through the corridors, Tatag still couldn’t feel the comfort of nature. Hope could only sustain the sapling for so long. Once they got inside the room that housed their weapons, Kai gently put Tatag on the floor, even going as far as helping the ent with his sword and shield. Yī Nuò also made her way towards him before placing a blue potion for him to take whenever. He tried to thank both Kai and Yī Nuò, but he could barely let out a whisper. When they get out of this place Tatag will make sure he returns the favor.

Suddenly, what Tatag had been looking for all this time emerged near his body. Nature in the form of grass seemingly appearing out of nowhere was spreading until it replaced the uncomfortable stone his body was laying on. A bonsai then emerged, before slowly growing to the size and shape of a person. It wasn’t long before Faunas was standing over his body. Tatag didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the god was there. He always associated Faunas with the trees of the Ancient Forest and it always brought him comfort when the god was near.

Faunas’ face was stiff, as if he was wearing a mask like Tatag, and the only movement was coming from his eyes as it took in the state of the ent’s frail body. Those watching from the side would probably describe the god’s demeanor as apathetic, but he knew better. Tatag didn’t—couldn’t, utter a word and Faunas stayed silent for reasons of his own. He expected to be reprimanded, as the god tends to do every time he makes an appearance. Maybe it’ll be one of the rare occasions where Faunas’ would raise his voice even. But moments passed and the god’s eyes were still looking at his body and not him, almost like he was counting each broken branch and rotten root.

Tatag tried to move his body but all he could muster was a twitch of his hand. Still, it was enough to interrupt the trance that the god was seemingly in. Faunas knelt down beside him. This was when he knew that something was wrong. In all the years that Tatag has been a champion of Faunas, not once has he seen the god kneel. The idea of a god—of Faunas, kneeling for a mere mortal was unheard of. Before Tatag could continue thinking about the absurdity of the situation, the god’s hands carefully made their way towards his feet, where the roots were, and… Snap! Immediately, intense pain shot through Tatag’s entire body. His first instinct was to get away, but he couldn’t do anything but shudder under the god’s attention. The ent has splintered and split his body multiple times during their expedition, maybe even getting used to the pain. But this was a different kind of hurt. His frail body was not suited to handle it.

Snap.

A brief flash of anger towards the god made its way inside Tatag’s heart—

Snap!

—but it disappeared just as fast. He knew it was necessary. Drinking the potion would give him the boost of mana he needed, though it won’t do anything about the parts of his body that were beyond saving. Removing them would leave room for new roots and branches to grow.

Snap, snap, snap!

Alas, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one suffering. At the corner of his eye he could see Faunas’ hands tremble as it made its way to the next branch—snap. Tatag cringed, and he could feel the god flinch as well. Tatag had never seen the god look so… vulnerable.

Tatag always assumed that his relationship with the god was strictly contractual–at least on Faunas’ side. The god would give him divine abilities to be able to explore the world in exchange of defeating Tiryan. Tatag would never admit it, but he was a little bit jealous of Kaida and Huang San’s relationship with their gods. No matter how much the sapling tried to get closer with the god, his advances were always met with strict professionalism—the agonizing pain continued and the last thing Tatag saw before he passed out was Faunas’ eyes. Relief, mirroring his own—or so he thought.

With Tatag unconscious and most of the decay taken care of, Faunas forced the ent’s body to drink half of the potion and he massaged the other half on the areas he… disposed of. Immediately, the ent’s body started growing out new parts to replace the old ones, but it wasn’t enough to fully restore Tatag’s body. This was only a temporary fix, and Tatag needed sunlight before his body drained the mana the blue potion provided as it tried to repair itself.

The uncomfortable weight on Faunas’ stomach still refused to disappear. Seeing Tatag, his champion, be in the state that he was, unsettled the god. Still, he needed to leave immediately. He couldn’t be a part of the ongoing battle, even as a spectator. By the looks of it, the rest of the mortals were stalling for time until the teleportation circle was finished. It was certainly better than fighting someone like the Hand of Tiryan in their condition. Thus, Faunas quickly retreated back to the ground, the grass surrounding Tatag slowly disappearing from where it came from.

 

[Kibaa]

Khatiy of Usaama

An angry expression befell her tanned features as Nomad would explain to her that such a request was impossible right now. Khatiy's frown was unreasonable, as if she was angry at Nomad for not being able to do what she wanted, as if it was Nomad's fault that the spell didn't work in the way that Khatiy would like it to. Yet, before the Usaaman could result to bicker at Nomad, a danger made itself known within the room.

Khatiy's voluminous strands of hair flickered backwards, moved by the piercing windforce of the projectile that shredded through Ifrit's head, a nefarious presence coursing through the air of the room. Her feline eyes would narrow, fixing themselves onto the threat with a battle-hardened expression. Her fingertips moves sneakily across the handle of her large Khopesh, as if ready to draw and engage at a moment's notice.

Her eyes only momentarily stopped tracking Parzival to look at Yi Nuo as she would instruct Khatiy to inform the rest of Parzival's arrival, quickly then flickering back to keep close watch over his movements. At once, the moon elf lurched forth, locking blades with the hand in an effort to buy time.

It took every ounce of willpower within her for Khatiy to refrain from dashing at the enemy in similar fashion, arrogantly believing she could fell the enemy in one fell swoop of her Khopesh, as she had done to many in the final battle. But she had gained wisdom from her mistakes. Experience from her loss. She knew there was hardly any mana within her any more, certainly not enough to harness any sort of speed from either of her curses, certainly not enough to battle in any kind of meaningful way. It angered her, to feel so useless. But, as she had explained to Nomad earlier, she had to regather her strength if ever she were to avenge the fallen. And this was not the time to risk it all. Not when she could depend on her allies... On her.. Friends.

Aaxir had taken care of the matter of informing everyone else, at once moving to engage the enemy. Khatiy could only nod in approval, finding Huang San's strategy to be quite sensible as well. Perhaps, with everyone's combined efforts, they would be able to deal with the threat in orderly fashion. Coordinated and clever, as the party has always been.

The Usaaman smirked as her hand would lower itself from her sword, falling plainly to her side. She didn't have to do anything-- for once, perhaps enlightened by the wise words of Bastet, she felt like she could depend on those around her, just as they have depend on her in the past. Her smirk came from the knowledge that, even in the party's weakened state, perhaps Parzival has underestimated their situation. For Khatiy knew the party could always count on their secret weapon, the ace up their sleeve. Two of them, in fact, if Korin, the Hound of Arlux, also felt courageous enough to step up. But for now, the Sultaness's lionine eyes flickered deviously towards the demonic apparition that had become of Chrome. Her lips widened, flashing an arrogant row of sharp, cat-like teeth at Parzival in that same confident smirk. "He's all yours, Van der Linde!" The Usaaman chanted out supportively, if not aggressively, pointing a finger forth at the Hand of Tiryan, her luscious hair once more flowing dramatically from the rush of wind of Chrome's attack, ripping bars from the floor and launching the projectiles at Parzival.

All at once, the party's combined efforts worked to pressure Parzival, hopefully more so than he would have anticipated. From one side, Aaxir attacked with his red fury, Chrome surging forth from another side, all as Huang San worked to distract the Hand with the magic of the legendary Ruyi Jingu Bang. As if that wasn't enough, the fierce gladiator Tiberius, dependable as ever, bravely makes his presence known, standing as a bulwark for the party and the teleportation circle, all while the silent yet ever deadly Kaleo prepared her frigid traps for a killing blow if the opportunity would arise. And, if Parzival was smart, he would do well to also not underestimate the moon elf who currently had his blade occupied. By now, Kaida had unsurprisingly regained a portion of mana, through methods that would normally always draw a disapproving reaction from Khatiy. The Usaaman's eyes followed the movements of the fox's summoned spirit with jealousy, only wishing she herself had the power to summon even one of her dearest friends from her own Usaaman stones right now. But, now was not the time to be concerned with such pettiness. The group had a mission, to escape.

Satisfied with the impressive defensive effort mounted by the group in such short time, Khatiy swiveled herself to face Nomad, furrowing her eyebrows angrily at the masked woman. "G.. Give me that!" She barked, an arm of hers flickering towards Nomad's body with inhuman speed and cat-like reflex, swiping one of the masked summoner's chalks with a fussy expression. At once, she would lower herself to start scribbling angrily over the floor with the chalk, trying to help Nomad complete it, hoping to double the speed at which it was being drawn now that two of them were working on it. As she drew, her gaze would bounce about the room to check over Tatag, Mahina, and Nelumba, concerned for their strength and well being. Her allies, as well as the rest of the continent.. They all depended on this.

 

[Nessi]

Guō Yī Nuò

Yi Nuo fought with a ferocity that had not been seen since the last battle, but whatever she threw at Parzival, he intercepted, and launched his own attack. The old moon elf had expended a huge amount of her energy and mana while clearing a path for her fellow heroes.
“...Can I really win this fight?” Yi Nuo thought to herself. She hated to admit it, but Parzival was overpowering her, slowly but surely pushing her further back. But just as she began to lose any semblance of hope, Yi Nuo would begin to hear the sound of balls rolling behind her. More accurately, it was the sound of thousands of False Ruyi Jingu Bangs rolling on the floor, causing both Yi Nuo and Parzival to lose their footing. While she was at first confused, it didn’t take her long to understand what was happening. Huang was creating these false battle staves as a deterrent, and he certainly wasn’t the only doing something. Enthy used Veritas’s tome to create a cage to contain the fight, Aaxir lobed red hot stones at Parzival, and Kaida had somehow summoned a strange demihuman warrior to fight alongside them. Chrome charged in with his blood magic, while Tiberius and Kaleo stood ready to intercept Parzival if he somehow managed to advance.
“Maybe…maybe we have a chance, a chance to survive this.” Yi Nuo hoped.

“Oh dear…oh dear…please forgive me, my fellow kin. This is the only way I know how to save you…” Parzival muttered. After the vampire had regained his footing, he hadn’t moved a muscle, almost as if he wished to be defeated. When the hero's onslaught began, he first blocked both the flaming rocks, and the cell bars. He then spun around quickly, facing Chrome and thrusting his arm towards the royal vampire.
“Forced Funeral.” Parzival said firmly. The blood gauntlets that were on Chrome’s hands ignited into red flames, quickly spreading across the poor vampire's face. Parzival kicked Chrome away, and engaged Kaida’s summon, easily swatting the spirit away. “How sloppy.” Parzival muttered, allowing Kaleo’s ice spears to pierce his body.

Yi Nuo watched in horror as Parzival perfectly countered everything they had thrown at him.
“How can I stop this…what can I do?” Yi Nuo asked herself.
“Well you could start by asking for some help.” a deep voice echoed in her head.
“Wow, how nice that you finally offer some help, Baihu.” Yi Nuo grumbled.
“I was taking a little cat nap…didn’t think you’d need the help against such small fry.” Baihu commented. “You’re low on mana, but in your current state, you can enter a partial synchronization for maybe…10 seconds before you're completely exhausted.” Baihu stated.
“10 seconds will have to do then.” Yi Nuo told herself.

Parzival rushed Tiberius, his fist completely coated in his own blood. He intended on breaking the shield, and dealing with the gladiator, but his leg was suddenly grabbed, and he was thrown to the opposite side of the room by Yi Nuo, or what could more accurately be described as a beast that resembled her. Her white hair flowed wildly, her hands and feet resembled that of a white tiger, and her teeth were much sharper than they were just a few moments ago.
“What an ugly thing you are.” Parzival scoffed.

10

Parzival charged at Yi Nuo, but quickly found himself on the defensive as he blocked and evaded the moon elf’s claw attacks.

9

Yi Nuo let out a terrifying roar, stunning the hand long enough for her to send him flying into a pile of rubble. She then turned to attend to Chrome in an attempt to quickly assist the poor vampire.

8

Parzival shot out of the rubble, gunning straight for Yi Nuo. Before she could be struck down, an unlikely hero would come to the moon elfs rescue. Eleanor would intercept the attack, but would find Parzivals blade driven deep into her stomach in a matter of moments.

7

Yi Nuo let out a roar of anger upon seeing Eleanor sustain such a wound. She tackled Parzival, letting loose a barrage of bone breaking punches until he kicked her off of him. Yi Nuo came to a sliding stop, and launched herself back at Parzival, dragging her claws across his silver helmet. Parzival slashed at Yi Nuo in retaliation, dragging his blade across her face.

6

Yi Nuo roared in pain, but had her neck grabbed by Parzival, being pinned to a wall shortly after.
He said nothing, simply tightening his grip around her neck.

5

Yi Nuo kicked Parzival in the groin, once, twice, and thrice before he let the moon elf go. She rushed over to Eleanor, and picked her up.

4

Yi Nuo picked up Chrome, and went to rush out of the barrier, but she’d caught a blood spear to the shoulder, making her cry out in pain. But she still escaped the cage, sliding right into the teleportation circle, everyone quickly began to enter the circle as Nomad finished the circle.


3

The circle began to glow, and Nomad took their place within it. Parzival banged on the cage, in an attempt to break it down, causing cracks to form within it.

2

Yi Nuo’s consciousness began to flicker, as her partial synchronization began to fade as Parzival broke through the cage, charging at the heroes.

1

Yi Nuo fully passed out, and was teleported out of the prison with everyone. Parzival ended up face planting against the wall where the divine weapons used to be….



The teleportation circle worked like a charm, and after a few moments of a bright, white light, Nomad found themselves in a rather large cabin high in the mountains, with big windows to reveal the view outside. A large fire roared in the fireplace, and there was a comfortable warmth that the heroes hadn’t experienced in months. For the first time in a long while, the heroes were safe.
“Well…looks like all things went okay.” Nomad said, dusting her cloak off. She turned to Yi Nuo, and knelt down to place they’re hand on her shoulder.
“Your people are safe, the rest is up to you.” Nomad said before standing up straight. “There’s enough food to last a long while, plenty of mana potions, and medical supplies, all in the cellar downstairs.” Nomad explained. “I must take my leave now…they’ll be sending a search party, so I’ll lead them in the opposite direction of this location, and lay low before remerging once more.” Nomad explained, opening the door to leave. “Welcome back to the fight, Heroes.” Nomad said blandly before closing the door behind her.

 

[Bloody_Death]

KAI NAKAYAMA

At first, it seemed like everything was going to be okay. Those who seemed lifeless seemed to be inspired once again. Everyone was able to find their weapons and be reunited with their patron gods. But, of course, nothing would ever go as easily as they wished. The sound of shouting and clashing was quick to catch the attention of himself and Wanga.

"Duty calls, Kai. We'll talk again once you all escape for real." He gave the mage one last encouraging pat on the back before vanishing back into his necklace. Kai only nodded at the god's parting words before turning his attention to the enemy that approached. One of Tiryan's hands. One they've managed to defeat in the past, but under the current circumstances they were very much at a disadvantage even with their numbers.

Kai was met with a dilemma though. He simply didn't have enough mana to use his more combative spells usefully. He figured he would just hang back and try and assist those fighting like he usually did. It was all he really could do to prevent himself from being a liability. However, it seems a certain kitsune had other ideas. Feeling a shiver run up his back at the fox cooing out his name. He already knew what she wanted. His eyes narrowed at the woman before softening. It's not like they were going to be here for long. And wherever they were going was bound to have food and mana potions. After a moment of contemplating he gave a nod to her request. Accepting the hug and kiss with a warm smile. Though he couldn't hold it for long, feeling more exhausted than he already was when some of the little mana he had left was transferred over to his fellow hero. "You're welcome. It's more useful with you anyway." He spoke with a small mumble before falling back more to make sure he was out of the way. Seeing how Kaida was able to summon a warrior to help them fight, he's confident he made the better choice.

As the fight drew on Kai watched his fellow heroes closely. Taking mental notes of who sustained injuries that would require tending later when he was able to. Or at least some quick check ins.

And well, there definitely were injuries. However none seemed to be fatal fatal. Pfft. He simply spoke too soon! Oh how quickly everything went to shit. To Chrome getting semi-burned alive. Kaida's summoned warrior getting swatted away like a fly. To various ineffective attacks that didn't even seem to harm him. This really was not looking good for them.

Currently, the top of the priority list was Chrome. Who got a devastating injury to the face as the fire continued to spread through his body. Yī Náo was up next as she began exchanging blow to blow once she ascended into partial synchronization.

However, that was all blown out the water when Eleanor soon got a sword right to the gut. His eyes grew wide when that hit took place. Urgency shot right through his body. Unlike the other two who had serious injuries, a sword to the stomach can kill in a matter of minutes. Whether it be from blood loss or critical damage to the organs. There was a small window of time for him to recover enough mana and get to work quickly.

Fortunately, Yī Náo was able to fend off the hand and for everyone to get into the circle before successfully being teleported away. Teleportation was always a bit disorienting for the mage. But when they finally came to, they appeared to be in a log cabin. A warm fire and a window to the outside world all present. When was the last time he was actually able to see the sky? Nevermind that.

Kai didn't have a moment to lose. Springing up to his feet the moment he heard the mention of mana potions. "Thank you, Nomad." He spoke as he frantically searched for the stairs leading down to the cellar. Then turning his attention to his fellow heroes. "Please move those who are severely injured by the fireplace. I'll be right back." Filled with probably the most amount of emotion he's had in awhile, the man ran down the stairs and into the cellar. Locating the potions and quickly grabbing a pair before returning as quickly as he left. Downing one of the potions before he even reached the spot where Eleanor laid. It didn't completely restore him but it was enough for him to perform his job properly. He wasn't letting anyone die before they could truly start their journey for revenge.

He sat on his knees beside Eleanor. Grabbing her arm and firmly pressing a pair of fingers on her wrist to check her pulse. After confirming she was still alive he got to work. The air around the mage began to blow gently as the process began. Flames would flicker and hanging objects would sway with the wind. Once the wind around the mage came concentrated enough, he would hold out his hands and create an orb of water within his palms that would soon be picked up by the wind, causing a faint green tint to colour the water, and carried into the wounds of the woman in front of him. Creating floating streams of water that flowed from his hands into Eleanor. The healing process of such a damaging wound would take a few minutes. Healing from the inside out. Repairing any internal damages before eventually moving out and closing up the wound entirely. But while that was in the process he shifted his attention to Chrome and Yī Náo. Creating even more streams of water that made their way into his other wounded comrades. Twisting and branching out in the most random ways before eventually reaching their destination.

Kai's focus never teetered while he worked. Even when he began sipping at the second mana potion when he felt his mana starting to run low once again. God, he was going to have a nice meal, in what felt like years, and then completely black out after this. And after several long minutes the job was done. Wounds were healed then closed and any scars left by flames or any other means vanished like they were never there. Branches of water retract back into their orb before evaporating back into the air. Their three most wounded heroes should be in a much more stable condition. A bit sore at most but hopefully no more pain.

Kai offered a small sigh of relief before turning his attention to the other heroes once again. "If anyone else requires any healing please come see me now. I fear you all won't be able to get out of bed for days once I fall asleep for the night." He spoke with a tired smile. Complete and utterly worn out after such a long sequence of dreadful events.

---

Interactions: Nessi || DSLIX

Mentions: Everyone tbh

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

The statue form of Tiberius remained unflinching, except his azure optics were darting about the place. The action unfolded with such gravity that Tiberius felt they'd be crushed from the weight before Parzival even landed a single strike. He saw how the Hand danced around Yī Nuò's desperate strikes, envisioned the masked monster tip denying Aaxir's molten projectiles, or the deterring false-staves. The Hand's body-language oozed arrogance, Tiberius could smell it like the stinking, fly-attracting manure from a farm. His brow further furrowed, teeth flared when Parzival spun and delivered a devastating kick to Chrome's jaw, but not before he engulfed his fists in fire with the utterance of two words. He swatted Kaida's summoned spirit as if it were less than a mayfly. Tiberius wondered if their dear Emperor granted a boon to his lackeys. Unlikely, Tiberius concluded.

He shortened his stance again in preparation for the madman to rush him. Indeed, everything was going according to plan. Tiberius didn't need Paimon's precognizance to read this verminous blood-drinker like a book. He'll strike directly at his shield to shatter it. Arrogant, too arrogant and amateurish. He should've gutted this sack of excrement like a fish when he had the chance back at the palace, a mistake that he will not repeat.

He does admit: that he feels fear in his heart; a fear manacled by the chains of courage.

Closer, closer Tiberius goaded from within. Polux remained on the precipice of the shadows. One twitch would've sent him flying to assist in Tiberius' plan. But just as the gladiator moved his blade in place for the return-strike, something... No, someone captured Parzival by his heel. It was Avia.

"NO!" Tiberius protested as Parzival was jettisoned away from him, a voice normally calm and collected now edged with concern. Even with partial synchronization, Yī Nuò could only hold off the madman for ten seconds at best. Tiberius stood there, shoulders sagging, released from their tension. His armaments were now to the side as he counted the seconds internally.

By the fourth second, Tiberius stepped backwards as helped Yī Nuò carry Chrome into the teleportation circle. He turned back to see the vampiric Hand whale on the protective shield. The right of half of Tiberius' face twisted into a scowl as he looked to the creature. He vibrated his throat then spat saliva on the ground in front of Parzival. "Bitch." Three heartbeats later, the heroes of the Gods winked out of space, thanks to Nomad's critically-timed teleportation spell.

When Tiberius landed, he groaned from the effort to move their mass kilometres away. He's been teleported before, it was never a pleasant experience, but he was affected less than the others. Immediately, like Kai, Tiberius sprang into action. The spatha and shield were propped up against a wall before Tiberius assisted in moving the injured heroes into a stable position. Namely Chrome and Eleanor who had taken the most deleterious injuries from Parzival's onslaughts. He had retained strength to move them with little effort, despite how their dead-weight pressed on his body.

"Nomad, my gratitude." He told the summoner as she closed the door behind her. Her words rang true, it was their time now; to rest, to recover, to strengthen themselves higher and further than ever before. Tiberius didn't stop once he finished setting the heroes by the fireplace, he marched after Kai to the room with the supplies. He wrapped his fingers around his scar-wrinkled chin as he examined.

"Good, good." He grabbed armfuls of the herbs from the medical supplies—roots, leaves, flowers, branches—a mortar and pestle, and two mana potions.

Tiberius had returned just in time for Kai to close his act of miraculous healing. Tiberius doesn't hesitate to say that without the healer's assistance, the heroes would've fared poorer from his absence. "Your hands are golden, Nakayama." Tiberius smiled in stolid appreciation as their allies were rescued from their terrible injuries.

He set down the mortar and pestle on the table, tearing three cloves of leaves and the flowers of a yellow plant, along with a small application of water. The gladiator felt the fatigue in his muscles at last as the alchemical fire in his veins settled down at last, but he continued to grind the plant parts into a mushy-substance. "This'll help with pain and restlessness." He called to his allies, before taking a step back from the workbench. He palmed away the tiredness in his face before he continued. Once done, he added the final portion of water and stirred one last time. "Done. If you need less grievous injuries treated, I'll be here as well." His baritone voice rang, pouring the contents into an empty bottle.


Breathe An internal voice, not entirely his own, called. Tiberius wanted to relax, but knew that he is needed. That his allies, compatriots whom he'll fight with to the deepest pits of the underworld.

He looked to Kaida and his face, battle-weary as ever, grew a mote softer. "Are you well, Suzu?" He knows the vixen loves mana that's why he grabbed an extra bottle of mana. Although he always forgets whether she loved stealing the mana from a living body or the mana itself more.

Interactions: Nessi DSLIX Beann Bloody_Death
Mentions: Everyone and No-one

 

[Beann]

Suzuki Kaida

The spirit cursed under his breath through gritted teeth as he was pushed back by the enemy. Who the fuck was capable of fighting back multiple targets on all sides, and more importantly, why the fuck was his summoner not helping? He shot Kaida a glare as he gripped the hilt of his blade tighter, “you gonna help or not?”

Before Kaida could respond to her spirit, the sight of Eleanor intercepting a devastating attack made her gasp. With what little mana she had left, she was only able to summon one spirit, and throwing herself into the battle would be suicide in her physical state. The only thing she could do was simply watch and pray they could bring the Hand down. However, as the fight continued to spiral downhill against their favor, their masked friend called for them to gather around the teleportation circle.

“Let’s go!” The kitsune gestured for the spirit to disengage as she positioned herself with the others. In a matter of seconds, the environment around them turned from the cold exterior of a prison to a fairly cozy cabin.

Seemingly safe for the time being, Kaida managed to stumble over to a chair and collapse into it as her legs gave out. The adrenaline that had carried her from her cell to this point had finally ran out, leaving her completely exhausted as she watched the rest of the party gather their bearings. “Thank you,” she echoed the group’s gratitude towards Nomad before she made a quick exit. Her eyes shifted over to the spirit that had followed her, he had remained standing nearby, quietly simmering in anger as he reflected on the short battle. “And thank you, dear spirit for coming to my aid.”

“Didn’t really do much but get my ass kicked immediately,” he growled, averting his gaze from the kitsune.

Kaida smiled weakly, forcing herself to lean forward and reach out to the angry spirit with a gentle hand. “You helped buy us time to escape. That is more than enough, dear spirit.”

“Ryushi.” The spirit muttered, shying away from his summoner’s gesture.

The kitsune blinked for a moment before leaning back into the chair once more. “Well, Ryushi. I would hate to release you back to the spirit realm but if you wish to do so, you may. However, as the first spirit to answer my call after reuniting with Inari Okami, I would prefer you stay.” She held up a transparent crystal, one similar to the others that Nomad carried, except this one was vacant.

Ryushi spared the kitsune a curious glance, eyeing the crystal as he considered the offer silently. “I better get another opportunity to kick that beast’s mask in.” He muttered, referring to Parzival.

“In due time,” Kaida stifled a giggle as she watched Ryushi fade and transfer into the crystal. Upon full transferal, the crystal turned from a transparent color to a dark purple. The kitsune stared at the crystal for a moment, smiling before tucking it away safely.

Relaxing once more, her ears twitched slightly at a familiar voice directed at her. She glanced over at Tiberius and offered the gladiator a tired smile. “I will be once I regain all my beautiful tails,” she joked. “However, I should be the one asking if you are well. I can see the exhaustion in your eyes.” Kaida gestured to another chair nearby, “come sit, Tiby.”

Worthlessplebian

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

Interactions: None

Mentions: None

Fel sat on the stony floor, his staff gripped tightly in both hands as he gathered what little mana he could. The regeneration rate was painfully slow in his poor condition, but the mage was well-equipped to leverage even just a few extra droplets of mana. Eyes closed and deep in concentration, Fel was too absorbed in his recovery to notice as the blue flashes lit up the room, streaking through the air to where Nomad carefully drew a teleportation circle.

The sudden outburst of cries and the clash of metal against metal, however, was loud enough to interrupt his focus. Fel scrambled to his feet, spotting the familiar form of one of Tiryan's accursed Hands across the chamber, locked in combat with Yī Nuò. He cast a glance at the nearly-complete circle and bit back a curse. What incredibly rotten timing.

The crystals studding the mage's staff lit up as he drew on his meager supply of mana, shaping it into a physical form. Loose flames gathered together and refined into a crackling spear of flame, suspended in the air above Fel's arms. Directing with a broad sweep, he launched the spear towards Parzival -- and then hastily reached out to arrest its motion, dispersing the incantation into the air as a few harmless wisps of fire as several heroes moved forward to engage their enemy. Moved forward right into his line of fire.

By the gods, what utter imbeciles!

A vein in Fel's neck throbbed dangerously and he staggered, leaning clumsily onto his staff as the sudden depletion of mana left him light-headed. Having wasted much of what he'd accumulated on that attack, the elf was again rendered near-helpless to the course of the battle -- which was quickly turning against their favor. Even if he'd possessed the requisite mana to cast another incantation, there was little he could do. Any substantial magic would hinder more than it helped, especially with Enthyskana's barrier penning the fighters in like cattle. Instead, Fel could only watch as Parzival cut through his companions ruthlessly, setting Chrome ablaze and piercing Eleanor through the stomach even as Yī Nuò harassed him in her partial synchronization. At this rate, scorching them all together would've been more effective.

But as behind him the teleportation circle reached completion, the other fighters disengaged quickly, the injured practically dragged away by the more able. Nomad activated the circle with not a moment left to spare and with a familiar, wrenching feeling, the heroes made their narrow escape.

The sudden onset of nausea faded after a few deep breaths and Fel steadied himself quickly, glancing around at the cabin they had been transported to. The roaring hearth diffused warmth throughout the structure, finally returning a sense of comforting warmth to his frail body. As Tiberius laid out the injured beside the fireplace, Fel tottered behind Kai, slowly making his way down the stairs into the cellar. The exhausted mage set upon one of the crates of mana potions with the fervor of someone stumbling upon a great oasis after weeks in the desiccating deserts of Pyla. Guzzling a first, then a second bottle in moments, Fel sighed as his mana stores swelled back to a reasonable level. Having finally sated his most immediate need, the elf dug through the rest of the cellar, identifying several boxes of food -- mostly dried and preserved goods, but also a few crates enchanted to keep fresh food chilled.

Fel marveled at the sight of the food, withdrawing a fresh peach from one of the containers. Plump and sweet, he bit into its succulent flesh ravenously, uncaring of its juices dripping down his chin. After months subsisting on stale bread and gruel, this -- this was a slice of the heavens. After devouring the remainder of the fruit, Fel gathered several of the boxes and made his way back up the stairs, balancing one atop another precariously and lifting the whole lot into the air with a quick incantation.

"Come and get something to eat," he called out, depositing the heavy load on a large table nearby. From one, he withdrew another piece of fruit. "Preferably before you pass out from exhaustion."

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Interactions: Nano OldTurtle

So, a baddie showed up to stop your prison break, eh? Well, here are the following steps that you should take, according to Nel’s Handy Dandy Prison Break Guide, demonstrated by Nel herself!

Step 1: Scutter as faaar away from the action as possible! Nel was a dainty little Fae, so getting up close and personal was a big no-no! Of course, her bigger and studier allies were getting right in the fray. How courageous!

Step 2: Observe and wait for a chance to strike. Uh-oh, but Nel had no mana in her! Even if she did, she might risk hitting one of her friends if she attacked, with all of them practically dogpiling Parzival. A quick glance at Fel told her that he tried to follow this step but ran into those exact issues. Yikes!

Step 3: So step 2 didn’t work out. No biggie! Nel could help by providing… Moral support! Observe the following:

”That was a cool move, Huang San!”

“You can do it, Aaxir!”

“A barrier! Great thinking, Enthy!”

Insert clapping and hooting when appropriate.

Oh, and pro tip: Time your cheering right so you don’t accidentally distract your pals! Nel learned that through trial and error.

Step 4: Find the right moment to slip away from the enemy. In this case, it meant making sure that Nel was in Nomad’s teleportation circle when it activated. With a flash of white light, the group was teleported safely to a cute little cabin.

Were you able to succeed in your first prison break attempt? Nel sure hoped so!

(Nel will take no responsibility for any injuries, damages, casualties, or failed prison break attempts.)

Officially freed from the dingy prison, Nel leapt and squealed in joy.

”Thanks, Nomad!” she called after their savior. First things first: check on her friends! She crouched next to a collapsed Eleanor, a worried crease in her brows. A sword to the gut… Double yikes! Nel sure hoped that Eleanor wasn’t in too much pain. She made sure to stay out of Kai’s way as he worked his magic, then tottered away once she was sure that Eleanor’s wound was starting to stitch together.

Next… Food! Nel’s tummy couldn’t wait anymore!

As though reading her mind, Fel reemerged from the cellar with boxes and boxes of food. He took out a piece of fruit and urged everyone to eat.

”Aww, Fel! You’re so thoughtful!” Mistaking the orange in Fel’s hand as an offering, Nel all but snatched it from his hand and took a generous bite, skin and all. ”Oooh, this is yummy! Thanks!”

Nel glanced at Tiberius and Kaida sharing supplies and felt a lightbulb go off in her head. She didn’t get to do much during the fight earlier, so she should help share the food too!

Nel stuffed the bitten orange in her dress pocket, then gathered an armful of fruits in her arms and looked around. Hmm… Enthy helped make that barrier earlier, so she must be compleeetely drained! She could use some food! Nel waddled over to Enthy, dropping a fruit or two on the floor here and there, and beamed at her dragon pal.

”Heya Enthy! Need a bite?”

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions: Nessi @Bloody_Death
Mentions: Dawnsx Worthlessplebian DSLIX
Aaxir watched helplessly as his attack was fended off with indescribable ease, and not just his; in fact all feeble attempts to move Parzival were brushed aside as minor inconveniences. To make matters even worse their teamwork left much to be desired, but it could have been far worse. After seeing Chrome take what looked to be a near fatal blow but knowing him it would take more than that to kill him. Aaxir decided he was no longer in a position to preserve his mana; he would have to use it now. Unfortunately that would mean relying on his comrades to create that opening. Aaxir called upon any residuals of mana he had left as he planted his feet in the ground. Lava rocks just wouldn't cut it. Forced into this gambit, sparks of electricity start to appear around Aaxir as he held off on releasing his volcanic lightning at the right moment.

"Come on Tiberius...," Aaxir mumbled to himself as Parzival rushed toward him. If Tiberius could even stall the enemy for a second, that would be enough for Aaxir to connect with his attack. Time seemed to slow down once again, and a bead of cold sweat ran down Aaxir's face. If he was being completely honest, he knew this wouldn't fell Parzival; however, he would have to come up with plan B after they had bought more time. Aaxir had stopped breathing some time ago, focused entirely on Tiberus' and Parzival's clash so he could time his strike perfectly. Just as he was about to exhale, Yi Nuo had reemerged as a main player and put a halt to the enemy's charge. Aaxir's eyes grew wide seeing Yi Nuo in her partial synchronization. She moved as a feral beast desperately protecting her cubs as she clashed with the masked Hand. If Aaxir released his attack now when he could barely keep up with the fight it would be a good chance he would wind up hitting Yi Nuo instead. As he held off on his final attack a secondary problem reared its head. Aaxir suddenly felt a sharp pain, not unlike a whip set on fire. Instinctively he looked at his hand as electricity flared wildly. Even at full strength, controlling lightning to this extent would have been difficult as it was never meant to be held this long. That brief lapse of focus turned out to be nearly fatal as the next thing he saw was Eleanor being skewered by Parzival

"NO, damn it!" Aaxir growled while releasing the lightning bolt to a nearby wall, pulverizing it with ease as he was unable to withstand the energy output any longer. After falling to a knee he commanded his body to rise to its feet to do anything, but by the time he was back on his feet, the teleportation circle was ready. He hesitated despite the situation...the scar on his ego was nearly greater than the mess that was now his right hand. Nevertheless he couldn't afford to die here, so he charged in the circle along with everyone else.

****​

In a few moments they were free. The prison break was a success and everyone was safe. Upon that thought Aaxir's head snapped behind him as he heard the other heroes began to move about, their words muddied by his current thoughts. Eleanor. He walked toward her seemingly lifeless body and stood there. He had some choice words for her, yet because if his own blunder she had to make up for his mistake. Under Kai's watch she would most likely be fine now that they were in a safe haven. He stared for a few more seconds before realizing Nel had been there the whole time, crouching by her body. Instinctively Aaxir snickered before grabbing the hilt of his blade with his good hand as he wondered what that vulture wanted, but she scampered almost as soon as she came causing Aaxir to exhale a breath he had not known he was holding before now. Looking toward Eleanor once more he couldn't help but feel a little guilty, but also relieved. She was able to react to the hand and it looked as if she protected Yi Nuo. If not for her it's a good chance they likely would all be dead. He then glanced over to make sure everyone else was also in one piece. "I was wrong," was all Aaxir said before leaving her to Kai. "I'm sure the others will need you...I'll take watch just to be safe."

With that, Aaxir made his way outside while doing his best to not slip on the fruit Nel carelessly dropped. You would think months in prison would teach someone not to waste food. Nevertheless, in truth he just wanted to be alone with his frustrations. He couldn't help but feel as if he would wake up back in that prison in a few minutes and discover this was all just a dream.

Once outside Aaxir took a forceful bite out of the fruit he took from one of the crates he took for himself. From what he could see they were somewhere in the mountains, but he had no clue of the region. It felt like home for him; in fact, the last thing he wanted to do was be cooped up inside a cabin after months of being stuck inside that prison. He looked at his hand, it was bloodied, but thanks to his scales it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He was exhausted, yet he couldn't bring himself to rest. They were already months behind. He took another bite of his fruit before grabbing his blade. He planted his feet, gritted his teeth and swung with all his might.

"1!"

As sickening as it felt, Aaxir would no relief cause him to be complacent. Despite the success he still felt defeated and worse useless. In truth, he was the pathetic one, not them.

"2!"

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Dawnsx

Mentions: Auda

A hair’s breadth. It was a hyperbole she’d heard many times from the mouths of warriors boasting about their brush with death. As Tiryan’s puppet broke through the barrier and closed in on the teleportation circle, Enthy wondered if stretching out her hand would prove that phrase to be literal when measuring the distance between her fingertips and Parzival’s silver helmet. The bright veil of Nomad’s teleportation spell interrupted such thoughts, but the jarring sensation of having her body ripped from one location and discarded onto another did little to distract her from the realization of just how far they’d fallen. The world had chosen to believe in them—tasked them to champion the fight against a terrible evil—yet it took everything they had to barely manage to flee with their tails tucked between their legs.

Spirit and faith could only amount to so much, but throwing down her sword only meant someone else would be forced to take her place. Staring down at her worn hands that trembled from four months’ worth of built-up exhaustion, the young dragon could only clench them twice and convince herself that fate had kept her alive for a reason. All that mattered was whether or not they could crawl their way back up.

“Thank you for your assistance, and fare-thee-well,”

Enthy called out to their mysterious benefactor before turning to check on the well-being of those gathered in the room. Kai and Tiberius had been quick to dress the wounds of those in the most critical condition, while Fel had taken to fetching food from the cellar. Upon spotting Aaxir leaving the cabin, she suddenly recalled the sorry state that Tatag was in due to the dark and damp environment of their four month prison.

“I’ll carry poor Tatag out to take in the sun-”

Enthy said before being interrupted by a cheerful voice offering a share of food.

“Oh, thank-”

she said, only for her voice to falter when she turned around,

“you…”

Having suffered from months of starvation, Enthy’s stomach promptly betrayed her and foolishly let the pink menace know it appreciated her kind gesture. The owner of said stomach, however, wasn’t nearly as receptive to Nelumba’s token of friendship.

My Lord, is this apple poisoned?

she asked telepathically while cautiously taking the proffered fruit. After a few moments of silence, the dragon heard a heavy sigh and a voice that expressed the full brunt of her god’s exasperation at his champion’s suspicion that hadn’t died down even after years of traveling with the Fae.

She has good intentions, Enthyskana.

Enthy bit back a sarcastic retort that she knew she didn’t have to guts to say to her god’s face, and returned Nelumba’s “goodwill” with a stiff smile. The fingers of her free hand twitched before she curled them into a fist and hid it behind her back.

“I appreciate the gesture, Nelumba, but you shouldn’t drop fruit all over the floor.”

She stepped behind the Fae to bend down and pick up the fallen fruit. Though she considered wiping the fruit on her cloak before handing them back to Nelumba, the filthy state of her clothes made her decide otherwise.

“We wouldn’t want people tripping over them and hurting themselves,”

she said while carefully stacking three of the fruit back on the pile of fruit in Nelumba’s arms.

Enthy awkwardly fiddled with the apple in her hand while avoiding the Fae’s cheerful gaze.

“Umm, I think Tatag needs help, so I’ll eat this later. But thanks.”

She couldn’t tell if Nelumba had noticed that she was averse to any interactions with her, but she’d be more surprised if the Fae hadn’t noticed already after all these years. After all, the dragon made it a point to make up whatever excuses she could to avoid her.

Veritas seemed to believe that she was still hung up on the fact that she had to tolerate someone she despised from a moral standpoint. And he was right. However, the problem would be far more simple if that were her only qualm. In the end, she understood her place as a mortal and that there was a fine line between being principled and an obstinate fool. What bothered her the most weren’t the evils Nelumba committed but rather her complete lack of malice. There were no lies to see through, nor were there any malicious thoughts to sense and guard against. She was someone who desired to empathize with the pain of others yet lacked a shred of empathy.

She was unpredictable, and those who innocently saw their atrocities as "favors" were the most frightening due to their lack of inhibition and hesitation. It was a matter of when and not if, and there were no signs—no warnings—that she could possibly look out for. She could only hope that the Fae wouldn't become yet another bitter memory she'd come to regret.

 

[Auda]

Tatag

The last thing Tatag remembered was pain and Faunas’ pitying look. So the sight of a cozy cabin with the other members of the party going about their day was disconcerting. He only got glimpses of the previous battle, with Tiryan’s right hand seemingly tearing through their meager defenses. Maybe if they weren’t left to rot for months, would they have stood a chance. Maybe if Tatag was a little bit stronger, persevered better instead of being a deadweight his friends had to worry about, would they fare better.

‘Ever since you escaped that cell, all you’ve done is mope and wallow in self-pity. To be frank, it’s getting a little tiring.’

Faunas’ voice once again filled his mind. The god sounded exasperated, and Tatag swore he has seen a wider range of emotion from the god in the last few hours than the years he has spent as his champion. Still, Tatag couldn’t muster the energy to reply back to the god. He could blame his withered state, but both knew better. Ever since Arlux died, a different rot started to spread inside his branches.

‘Yes, she died. It’s a thing that mortals do. She died, and every single one of your ‘friends’ in this cabin will also die. You will die.’’

There was the Faunas the ent has grown to know. There was an air of casual indifference on Faunas’ tone. It’s as if the god was stating a fact—which was true, and not the fate of one of the greatest heroes the world has seen, of Tatag’s friend.

‘Listen, this is what you’ll do. You will get up. You will go out and finally get some sun on your leaves, and maybe in the brief moment you call your life, you will learn to not care as much. Look, the dragon is trying to help you.’

As if on cue, Enthy appeared on Tatag’s peripheral vision. Tatag tried to sit up to greet the woman, knowing that he’ll barely have the strength to do so. Much to the ent’s surprise, he didn’t have any problem rising from his position. Only then did he realize that he was in a much better shape than before. The blue potion and some rest seemed to have worked wonders.

“...thank you.’ Tatag muttered before trying to stand on his feet, with much less success.

The ent looked like a newborn fawn, with how much his legs were shaking. It's been months since he last used them after all. He might have overestimated his abilities because the moment he was confident enough, one of his legs buckled, forcing him to hold onto Enthy for support.

“I—” If Tatag could blush, his face would be red from humiliation. He quickly tried to rebalance himself, but his legs didn’t want to cooperate. Thus, he found himself in the same position, using Enthy as a wall to lean on. “I’m sorry.” Shame was evident on the ent’s voice. The sooner he regains his strength, the less of an embarrassment he’ll be.

Tatag slowly made his way outside the cabin, using Enthy as a crutch along the way. While the ent definitely shrunk being deprived of the sun, he was still a couple of inches taller than the woman in her human form. He tried to walk faster, then maybe the rest of the party wouldn’t see his walk of shame, wobbling and swaying towards the door, but doing so would only make him lose his balance again.

Once they got outside however, the feeling of shame was quickly replaced with satisfaction. Tatag’s knowledge on the human body was little to none, but he thought that it felt similar to when his companions would stretch their limbs after a night’s rest or a long day, only a million times better.What remained of his leaves immediately shot up to gather as much sunlight as they could and his roots dug through the earth like butter, planting him on the spot. For the third time in the span of a few hours, Tatag fell into a deep slumber. Only this time, he’ll wake up stronger than ever.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

Tiberius tilted his head down. The dry, malnourished locks of bleached sand fall down aside his cheeks. Hiding the scars of his face, new and old. Old and new. He smiles a weary smile, wrinkling the corners of his eyes and only permitting the faintest scene of his teeth. The gladiator wanted to laugh, actually. He couldn't believe it himself, he felt tired. The man, the warrior, knew that he was tired, but it took the fox's words to hammer that point into his skull. To truly know that he was exhausted. How long was it that he felt like this? Weakness, fatigue in his well-oiled muscles? Years ago, too many years ago.

If Tiberius had to describe it: the sensation would be like looking behind yourself and watching a stranger stumbling into your steps. A disconnect, a chronological, spiritual dissonance so profound that Tiberius hardly recognized himself. His younger self, that is what their imprisonment did, it narrowed the distance between the two and with it, the memories that he has long left behind. Memories before the Colosseum, memories of the horse-drawn wagon, and memories of family. Tiberius feels a warmth in his heart, not of malice or fury, neither does he feel the icy-bitters of grief and regret. Though regrets he hosts, like many others, but these ones were not his own. Not anymore. They were the vestiges, the remainders of his promise, and these were lessons learnt already.

He chuckles now at Kaida's kindness. Raising his head up by combing back the wispy strands of hair with his fingers. "Hehe, I am several months out of practice." The gladiator confessed to the fox, edged with humour on his tongue. He recalled the words of his late father, a spirited merchant with the silver tongue, and those were: "My dear boy, my sweet boy, if you do not laugh... You cry! And that's the secret to life, count on it. Now go back on countin' those..." And the memory trailed off into irrelevancy again.

He circled the table from which he sat behind and fished around in one of the containers. Eyes scanning for one particular set of fruit, since they had those fruits, they should have these... His scar-laced, thinned arm moved until it stopped as calloused fingerpads recognized the spherical fruits. "There we go," His eyes briefly sparked like the stars as he pulled out a cluster of purple grapes. The gladiator hasn't felt the maddening touch of hunger just yet, but he was not opposed to a delectable snack. Alas, these were not fermented, he could use the touch of wine. Olrodian wine.

"I'm sure you'll be many-tailed again, Suzu." The man predicted, plucking a grape from the stalk and chewing on it. His tongue batted the half-chewed grape to his left cheek while he sat down next to the few-tailed fox. "If I recall, it was based on mana, correct?" He offered a hand, a silent offer to take. He is never shy about sharing that mystical energy with the fox, he does it as easily as he breathed. Whether or not, she took him up now, that's up to her.

"These grapes are good, fancy one?"

He noted that Aaxir and a few of the others had already left the abode, the confines of this place. It was understandable, free spirits wish not to tarry in the confines and in Aaxir, he senses that he would be flagellating himself on the altar of perceived failure. That is why his blade is missing from their pile of weapons. He'd also comment on Nelumba, the joy witch, offering an apple to Enthy, but... the less excursions he has in her head space, the better. He's an unfaltering optimist, but her positivity could blot out the sun like a hail of barbed arrows or drown a coastal village.

Interactions: Beann (Kaida)
Mentions: LazyDaze (Aaxir), Nano (Enthy), Dawnsx (Nelumba)

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Huang San

Huang San seems to have almost disappeared for a while, from everyone else's perspective. Then, he finally emerges from the depths of the cellars with a bevy of ingredients. Rice, potatoes, meat. Spices and vegetables. He takes one of the pots, starts a fire, and gets to cooking. Bringing it to a roiling boil, and adding everything in. It's a hearty, rich porridge that he's making. The Farmer performs the actions almost meditatively. Motions done a thousand times before. They could imprison him, they could atrophy his muscles, reduce him down from who he was, but they could not take this away from him.

He tastes it. Adds spices as needed. Tastes it again. And finally finds it to his approval.

"Eat."

He spoons out the meal to anyone who seeks it, filling bowls with his ladle. A familiar ritual, even if there was one less bowl to fill.

 

[Nano]

One Week Later

In sharp contrast to the bloody battle and subsequent months locked away in a filthy prison, the camp hidden within the mountainous terrain provided the weary heroes with much needed respite. Though sharp, biting winds were frequent travelers through the area, the wooden cabin had been fortified to give them much needed warmth, and the simple act of breathing in fresh air untainted by Tiryan’s reign did much to tide over the general malaise that had been plaguing them for so long. However, only time would tell if heroes would be capable of recovering from the more severe wounds they’d suffered—whether they be physical or mental.

Despite the inevitable restlessness of the heroes desperate to piece together some semblance of their broken prides, Guō Yī Nuò kept her children under strict watch, ensuring that none would further aggravate the wounds and fatigue built up within their bodies by foolishly pushing themselves too hard. The moon elf had reassured the heroes that proper measures had been taken to ensure that the camp would likely remain undiscovered for a few more weeks and had instructed the heroes to take that time to rest well before training to bring their strength back up to par. In the meantime, Yī Nuò had discreetly sent a request to communicate with the ruler presiding over their next destination: Jorvik. The nation had yet to send back a response, but given the unorthodox methods utilized in order to keep their location hidden from even the recipient of the communications request, it would likely be another few days until she’d be able to share any news with the rest of the heroes.

The heroes wouldn’t be ready to depart from their little safe haven for another few weeks, regardless. Jórvik may be the ally closest to their current location, but it would be foolish to expect the same camaraderie from the harsh eternal winter plaguing the land.