[Theater Mission 4/4] The Tyrant Macbeth and No Booze

[Deleted]

450 words HP 100%		Familiar: Grey Wolf MP 97%
Whoever thought that it was wise to let Caerbannog lead the way clearly had their brain damaged or something. The samurai kicked down doors and things that stood in her way until the party found itself in the Dimensional Theater. Did she not learn anything from her encounter with the Fairy Gate of Sarum? She did, actually. Caerbannog learned that Fairy Gates were awesome places where you could have adventures that are different from the norm, and it was exactly for this reason that she led the group which was composed of Kumori, Capsule and the Dwarf into the Theater. How bad could it be, right? Caerbannog approached the amphitheater at the center of Stratford. As soon as she approached its boundary, the stage glowed and the interface prompted her, asking if she wanted to take on a Theater Mission. Hell yea! That’s why she was there in the first place! As the leader of the party, the samurai accepted the mission and the adventurers were soon whisked away to the alternate dimension. As expected, Caer found herself in a different body... though this time, she was slightly disappointed due to the lack of boobs. She also had the weird, nagging feeling at the back of her mind which told her to perform experiments on things. Odd. The girl inspected her new body further: it was garbed in mage-like cloth armor with a massive pumpkin hat and in her hand, there floated a crystal ball that was a few centimeters larger than a marble. It was her weapon, apparently. While Caer, now named Witch C, thought about the quest that they had undertaken: The Tyrant Macbeth. If she was a witch then... “You okay?” the samurai, now a heretic-druid hybrid who was even more vertically-challenged than before, turned to her party members. There was little time for pleasantries. The party had stumbled upon ruins on a hill, Dunsinane Hill probably if one were to consider the story of Macbeth, and the first wave of enemies approached quickly. Identified as Elsinore Fighters, they were a mere level 10. Nothing that a familiar can’t dispose of, right? And so Caer, always curious of creatures great and small, used the skill Familiar: Grey Wolf. “Puppy!” the girl squee’d in anticipation, but instead of a pup, a massive beast appeared. The wolf sniffed at Witch C and probably thought that something was off, but Caer merely blinked at the creature. She then pointed at the enemies up ahead. Seeing the fighters which were about to engage them, the wolf postponed its investigation of the person who was not quite its master and went on ahead to do battle with the unfortunate Level 10 Elsinore Fighters.
OOC: - Wave 1: 4 Elsinore Fighters (Lv10 Swashbucklers) - Wave 2: 4 Elsinore Cloakers (Lv25 Assassins) - Wave 3: 4 Elsinore Royal Guards (Lv50 Guardians) - Wave 4: Malcolm (Lv60 Guardian), Banquo (Lv60 Druid), Macduff (Lv60 Samurai)

[Kumori]

	HP 100% Regen 5HP every 5s MP 98% Regen 5MP every 5s	Kumori :: Level 77 :: Assassin Armor: Cuirass of Shadows with Cloak of Darkness Main Weapon: Night’s Kiss by 黒 with Nectar Scabbard and Alvan Blade by 黒 Quick Slot: Heaven's Wrath by 黒 Other: Something
WC: 362	Tags: ?	Skills: Skill name

Why did he follow Caerbannog to whatever ridiculous situations she regularly led him to? Well, it was mostly because she was his wife. He couldn’t let anything bad happen to his waifu, especially in Elder Tales. He wouldn’t have it, he just wouldn’t. Well, that was the cost of love, if anything. He would follow her to the depths of hell and back if she required it of him. Actually, she brought him to the depths of hell and back. They barely managed to make it out alive, but that is a tale for another time.

As the group approached the boundary of the theater, the feeling was all too familiar. It was like the portkey that he had opened at Stonehenge when he had placed the pieces of the maps together. He was being placed into another body, once more. This time, however, he was in the body of MacBeth, or at least, that was what his displace said. His level was similar to last time, save for the fact that he was a samurai/guardian. He never understood how a samurai could ever have a shield. Maybe it was his forearm that was used as a shield? It was pretty well armored. He shrugged and looked over at who was his waifu. He nodded and smiled at her. “You’re looking as cute as ever,” he said to her. He took out his katana, sword thing? Was it a katana or a foil? He couldn’t really tell, but since he liked katanas, he’d treat it as such. He wondered what they’d be doing this time. Hopefully what they did didn’t affect the livelihood of others. His eyes shifted around and wondered what would happen.

However, before he could even ask about it, 4 Elsinore Fighters came to fight them. They were level 10, so dealing with them would be easy. He used Ace Move: Denkosekka (Lightspeed). He would then fire rush forward, attempting to slay as many of the low-level swash bucklers as quickly as possible. MacBeth had no patience and he thought all those who opposed him to be beneath him. He would kill them swiftly, he would show no mercy.

[Capsule]

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∝:
824

♪ ♫♪:
Bell of Battle/Battle Theme (extended)

✏:
__

@:
@dindeen, Kumori & Tobin

Capsule had been invited out onto a field trip today, out into the newly discovered Avon area. Caer had rounded up the party via her usual methods, though luckily the Enchanter had very little by way of plans to attend to, otherwise she would have said no. Though, it would have been hard to do so - who could resist striking out on a new adventure? Definitely not Capsule, who would prefer the fresh air to the stuffy old castle claimed by Avarice. She wasn't exactly in on the loop of what they were getting themselves into, aside from the brief statements made by the short fun sized Samurai. Something about a Dimensional Theater in Stratford Upon Avon?

It was difficult to stop and truly sightsee, what with Caer just going in like a mini wrecking ball. Capsule did notice that the poorer Landers lived along and near the river, while the snobbier (and presumably richer) lot were in abundance in the city. There were a few commoners here or there, but they were obviously low wage workers or those with far less glamorous jobs. The Landers, despite their social standing, all gazed at the small group of Adventurers with mild disdain, however. It was a little unnerving, to be frank. It was almost like they had never seen an Adventurer before, or were unaccustomed to them being here - which was totally fair. Hopefully they would adjust to the sudden influx of Adventurers.

As they neared the Dimensional Theater in the center of the city, the stares increased but no one stepped forward to stop or dissuade them. A few of them were slowly making their way towards them? Capsule blinked in confusion as the aristocratic Landers took out odd little binoculars - were those theater glasses? Uh, why were they filing into the theater, too? Capsule was starting to get a bad feeling about this, but once she was up on the stage with the others, it was too late to turn back now.

She had a few seconds to acknowledge the quest interface before her, asking her if she wanted to participate in a Theater Mission - wait, what?! Before she could read further beyond the titles (The Tyrant Macbeth and Starcrossed), Caer, as the party leader, made the choice for them. Capsule's stomach lurched as her navel was seized by an invisible entity, and her body yanked forward. Somewhere off stage, she could hear an older woman say "Quiet down now, dears. The show is about to begin."

"S-show?! What on Earth are you talking about-" The formerly redheaded Enchanter, turned blonde Heretic / Bard cried out, her voice noticeably softer and frantic. Capsule, now Witch B, placed a hand to her throat. She was very confused, as she seemed to be somewhat shorter than before, her voice smoother and feminine, and… She raised a hand to swat at the long strands of blonde hair hanging from her head. Was she wearing a hat? There was also too much purple in this outfit for her tastes. What happened to her avatar's body?

Witch Capsule looked to the others, and saw that they had changed as well. There were two other females - both Heretics, but one was a Cleric, and the other was a Druid. There was a man, too, but he was a Guardian and Samurai mix. Who was who…? She wanted to ask and would have, but she felt oddly shy, especially of the man labeled as Macbeth. Witch Capsule timidly lowered her eyes to the ground, but did not keep them there for long.

The group had been transported to a hill littered with ruins, and coming towards them was a group of four Elsinore Fighters (Swashbucklers). A slight smirk formed on Witch Capsule's face as she reached for something holstered on her waist - a small hand harp. Her fingers seemed to move on their own accord as they plucked out a merry tune.

One of her dear sisters was already engaging the foolishly low leveled Swashbucklers, and Macbeth was mindlessly swinging away at them. She feared that the overeager man would dispatch of the poor creatures before she and her other sister could deal a blow. The tune she played grew stronger as she casted Snake Charming, a skill that caused the Swashbucklers' movement speed, attack speed and evasion to be reduced. Those that came to a stop were forced to twitch about, while those moving found their limbs moving about of their own accord. All in all, it looked like they were suffering from odd seizures. It also meant that they would put up little resistance, making it easier for Macbeth to cleave them in twine, and her dear sister's wolf should have no trouble tearing them asunder. Witch Capsule lifted a hand to hide her mouth, from which a soft chuckle was emanating. This was what they had to throw at them? Pathetic.

coded by benetnasch of ET

[Tobin]

WC : 438 HP:100% Mana: 98%

While the action erupted around them, the third witch didn't seem particularly interested in the conflict that had arrived like a storm, instead content to stir the pot contained. To the casual observer it would appear that the wisest of all the witches was merely bidding her time, after all, much blood would be spilled upon this hilltop on this heroic day thus her involvement would just be an waste. Yet in truth the dwarf had two reasons to be rather content to relax. He was the tallest out of all the witches, so for once he felt content to enjoy the height while it lasted. The other? He was finally beautiful, though perhaps in the wrong body for his preferences. As Macbeth commented to her youngest sister the witch raised a questioning eyebrow

"Yea' tis is so accurate to Macb-

OI DON'T UTTER THAT NAME HERE!

WHAT IS IT NOW AUTHOR!

It is considered bad stage practice to utter that name. It is said to bring grave misfortune to any that do!

Then what-

I donno, up to you.

"-McMuffin the screenplay, I'm very sure ta noble fellow subduced one of the witches and we all proceeded ta beat the shit oat of all of everyone who cam' 'ere. How historicalleh accurate. What next? An assassins creed version of Romeo and Jullie- Oh wait. You know wha', just ignore me and forfill my will. I'mma gonna figure out wha' the frig these class featur's do."

Though his voice was that of a beautiful woman, his accent was considerably off. It wasn't that he didn't want to participate, but he actually had no sodding idea what a cleric or heretic actually did, his magic usually came from introducing fist to various parts of the body. Thus as the rest of the party proceeded to gloriously slay the noobs in a fashion most benefiting from a Lord of the Rings Script, the third witch was fiddling with the skill list as he stirred the pot, A curious eyebrow raised as he flicked through the menu.

"Errmmm, lets see. Righteous Exile? Sounds like a restrainin' order Kumori would put on me, 'n' what does tis do? Pain affliction?" With a idle point, a bolt of dark energy hit one of the foes in the knee, sending tumbling fourth screaming. Her eyebrows quirked up as she gave a dirty laugh, a beautiful mark of British Dramas "Hmm, good to know, bring him over and put 'im in the pot, might improve the flavour and what about..."

Yeah, Dwarf had much to learn about Witchcraft though at least he had a cracking laugh.

[Deleted]

510 words HP 100%		Familiar: Grey Wolf MP 95%
Feeling confident of their meager numbers, or perhaps they were just stupid AI, the Elsinore Fighters charged in without considering the level difference between the adventurer’s party and their own. Two of the Fighters used Ante Up to wield an extra weapon each as they ran towards Macbeth, while the other two used Fold Step to engage the advancing wolf and the brewing witch respectively. Witch B supported her party members just in time; as soon as the Fighters were headed for their targets, the debuffs hit them like a sack of bricks. Consequently, the grey wolf easily snapped the Fighter before him in two and tossed it aside like a rag doll. Because Witch A was Witch C’s sister, the wolf also bounded towards the Fighter that headed for her (or him?) and grabbed the Fighter by the legs. The poor enemy was thrown across the room with its legs mangled, and it landed perfectly on its head which resulted to a broken neck and 0 HP. While Macbeth was still engaged with the remaining fighters, the next wave moved in. Four Elsinore Cloakers... so they were up against assassins this time. Seeing the main character of the play, one of the Cloakers targeted Macbeth with Atrophy Break while three used Hiding Entry to circle around the party. One of the hidden Cloakers aimed for the brewing witch mostly because she (he?) was known to be the oldest one and presumably much stronger than the other two witches. Using Congregating Arc, he threw a kunai at Witch A which would hit the other witches too if they did not move out of the way. If the eldest witch could be dispatched of early on, then the rest of the fight would be much easier for the subsequent waves. The other target was their leader Macbeth who, according to the story, had been a tyrant long enough and had committed murders left and right so he must be taken down a notch. The third Cloaker appeared on purpose to his right side to act as a decoy while the fourth Cloaker circled behind Macbeth and prepared to use Assassinate as soon as it saw an opportunity. With Congregating Arc aimed at the witches, the grey wolf moved in to intercept it. Its priority was to protect its master, of course. Witch C, who’d been fiddling with her skillset, toggled a certain skill called Miasma Appendage. She then conjured up an occult circle when the second wave arrived so as to sacrifice a target to the Miasma around her with Lying Darkness. The target was none other than her own self (so M!) and the witch designated the corruption amount of twenty points. An actual two-meter appendage then appeared on her back and swatted away the Arc attack. After the danger was fended off, Witch C wiggled her black tentacle around and, by accident (or not), slapped Witch B’s butt. Oblivious of whatever was happening to Macbeth, Witch C continued to wiggle her new appendage around as if it was the most interesting thing she’d seen.
OOC: - Wave 1: 4 Elsinore Fighters (Lv10 Swashbucklers) - Wave 2: 4 Elsinore Cloakers (Lv25 Assassins) - Wave 3: 4 Elsinore Royal Guards (Lv50 Guardians) - Wave 4: Malcolm (Lv60 Guardian), Banquo (Lv60 Druid), Macduff (Lv60 Samurai)

[Kumori]

	HP 100% Regen 5HP every 5s MP 100% Regen 5MP every 5s	Kumori :: Level 77 :: Assassin Armor: Cuirass of Shadows with Cloak of Darkness Main Weapon: Night’s Kiss by 黒 with Nectar Scabbard and Alvan Blade by 黒 Quick Slot: Heaven's Wrath by 黒 Other: Something
WC: 508	Tags: ?	Skills: Skill name

After the Elsinore fighters were dispatched of quickly (possibly due to the help of the witches). Admittedly, he did not want to rely on the witches for help, because he was a narcissistic asshole who wanted all the glory for himself. Obviously, he did not make this known to his comrades as without their help, he’d probably have died several times over. That meant, unfortunately for him, he had to deal with it. MacBeth loved himself, maybe a little too much. He charged forth, forgetting about the dangers of doing so. He was a tank anyways. He could survive anything you threw at him! This time, to target the one that was targeting him with an Atrophy Break, which had slowed him somewhat, the king used a samurai move! Ace Move: Izuna-giri and he made a long range slash at the one attack him, without moving much. “HYAH!” he yelled. The vacuum should’ve drawn all of the enemies towards him, if not all, at least the one attacking him. After the slash was made, he simply watched as the man who shot the Atrophy Break.

As he stared at the man who had dared attacked him, he smiled as he came closer and closer. The Cloaker’s demeanor grew worse and worse as he was forcefully made to approach the samurai. Finally, the Cloaker was right in front of him. The king simply placed the sword on top of his shoulder and got into a batting stance. He licked the tip of his finger and placed the finger vertical to his body and ‘felt’ the direction of the wind. He nodded, swung his sword forward slightly to signal he was ready for the pitch. As soon as the cloaker reached him, he swung, and swung hard. The head came off and flew straight out. “I believe that’s a home run!” he said to the crowd. He turned around to intercept the assassin trying to assassinate him. You know what they say about kings, they’re immune to assassinations. It was like he could sense the guy was trying to kill him. The steps forward, the attempted strike, everything was just too amateur to kill him. He hoped the other two would be dealt with by his comrades. Speaking of his comrades… one of them has a large appendage sticking out of them… and it looks like a tentacle! You’d think that this would spark some type of H-scene that MacBeth would probably enjoy (he is a man after all).

He stood there and stared at the witch with the appendage sticking out of her. He was actually staring at her. He wanted more to come out of this. The opportunity shouldn’t be wasted! Ah well, he probably wouldn’t have gotten his wish anyways. Hurry up with the next wave! MacBeth is as impatient as he is narcissistic. Sadly, everyone probably hated him. It’s just that they feared him and hi spower, that’s why they never chose to try and pick a fight with him, especially when he is mad.

[Capsule]

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∝:
1045

♪♫♪:
Up & Down

✏:
Are we continuing w/o Caer, or...?

@:
@dindeen, Kumori & Tobin

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Witch B (Capsule) thought it was amusing that the low leveled Swashbucklers were still trying to accomplish something, despite having their body movements tampered with. She raised a hand to her mouth and held it there, eyes full of disinterest as she watched Witch C's great wolf tear one of the hapless fighters asunder. Honestly. It felt like these low leveled idiots had been sent out as a warm up for the group, and not a real threat. They must have had one hell of an inspiring speech. Too bad it was all a load of rubbish. They died just as quickly as they charged in, the fools.

The next wave, consisted of Elsinore Cloakers, rushed in to replace the Fighters. They were only level twenty five assassins, so they would not be much a threat. One of them had the balls (if you could even call them that) to approach Macbeth directly. …Did this guy have a death wish or something? She had serious doubts that Macbeth would be able to feel anything this moron threw at him. It was like leading pigs to a slaughter. The man was a tank for a reason.

The shy witch blinked in surprise as one of those courageous idiots actually had the audacity to fling a kunai at one of her sisters, which would have hit her too, had she not swiftly stepped to the side. They had spread out to try and attack them from all angles - wait. Was this dumb courage the kind of thing that could turn a fight against wicked offenders? She turned and lowered her head to stare at the pathetically cheap kunai sticking up from the ground. Naw. It was just a hunk of poorly sharpened junk, and the guy who tossed it was going to get his shit wrecked.

Meanwhile, Macbeth was being his typical arrogant self - "YEEP!" Witch B, too preoccupied with her own thoughts, had just received a hearty slap to the rump. Her first assumption was that Macbeth or a sneaky fighter was the culprit, and she would certainly not put it beyond the tyrant to do something so juvenile and inappropriate. She saw the way he looked at her sister - Witch B's annoyed expression turned into a blank one, which would have been obscured by a palm if she was the type. No, the tyrant Macbeth was not to blame. It was her just her sister's tentacle. A tentacle that Macbeth seemed to be eyeballing? Gods, she did not want to learn about his fetish!

It was a good thing that Macbeth had the attention span of a goldfish (and there was an upcoming wave to distract him), otherwise this scene possibly would have devolved into a depraved eroge visual novel. Just the mere thought was making her face crimson. No no no, she would rather hang at the stake than witness something so awkward and embarrassing. It was a shame that she could not hop into a hole right now and cover her head, but the Elsinore Royal Guards were coming forth. Play time was over now, kids. These were level fifty Guardians, and that meant that their superiors would not be too far behind.

The Royal Guards had formed a wall with their shields, and were steadily charging straight towards the group of witches and the tyrant. Witch B suspected that they would try to ram right through and scatter the group so that they could be dealt with separately. The level gap was low enough to allow them succeed if successful, so she would have to stop them somehow. For some strange reason, she wanted to use an Enchanter skill, but she was no Enchanter. She was a Heretic and Bard.

Witch B sang softy as she plucked at the strings of her harp, casting Blight Memory upon the Guardians trudging forth. The spell would, from the perspective of the Guardians, cause the air around them to distort, and they would find themselves heavy with lethargy and an increasing lack of motivation. The Royal Guards slowed down, their shields drooping slightly. Their steps became slower and half-hearted; one of them even stumbled. If they had felt bold and powerful before, they now stepped with the uncertainty of a young foal learning to walk. In Witch B’s eyes, that uncertain movement reeked of vulnerability. She wondered if the lot of them would fall over like bowling pins or dominoes. Would they all fall in a neat row?

She let loose a sudden and unexpected manic laugh, hopping forward to close the gap between her and the guards. Part of her was oddly tempted to slam her instrument into the ground, like it was a guitar in a rock concert. Instead, the witch casted Electrifying Crescendo, forcing the group of men to stagger and trip over their own feet, thanks to the resulting shockwave. There was also some minor lightning damage, though she was unsure of how much an effect it would have. They did fall over as desired, but it lacked finesse; the small group of men resembled a mass of arms and legs, a shield or two scattered away from them on the ground. Boo! Ah well. They looked silly, lying on the ground like that.

The witch stepped back, unable to stop a tide of giggling. She somehow managed to focus long enough to cast Speed Sword Etude, a skill that would increase the party's attack speed for the next sixty seconds. Macbeth would benefit the most from this, though. The witch would just hang back for the moment. She was feeling strangely lightheaded, despite her not increasing her corruption levels. Was it because her sister, Witch C, had just recently used a bit of her own? Witch B always was the sensitive one, so it made sense that she would get a contact high, but still. Oh well. She would just have to clean up if Macbeth or her sister, Witch A, left a mess behind. The Royal Guards were tanks, after all, and decently leveled ones, to boot. It was likely that a fight with them would go on a bit longer, despite most of them being slowed down and tumbled across the ground, like exhausted puppies.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[Tobin]

(OOC: @dindeen Kumori Capsule)

WC: 603

"Oh, tha's interestin'."

All this time Witch A tended to her pot, stuffing in a dead assassin as soon as one became available. To the causal spectator it would seem that she was playing a mighty fine role in being a mysterious character, aloft from the troubles that these fellows brought. After all, level 10 and 25 peons barely drew her attention beyond the initial assignation attempt. However that was all a farce the Dwarf was still flicking through the menu, though by the time the guardians arrived Witch A had finally got it enough to stride confidently towards these new guests to this party.

"Oh, rite, ya actualleh need mah help now? Ya might wanna get back, I soften them up"

A delicious laugh erupted from the woman’s lungs as the menu was flicked open as A strode past B, and stood just a couple of meters of the guardians as they attempted to regain their footing. With a casual flick of the palm raised both hands above as her palms crackled with malicious energy. Trust A to immediately open up with a powerful, but very party unfriendly attack, -Miasma Curtain- as she

“Tis as thy say most dear one, biteh upon the pillow,-"

Witch A was perhaps was the most mysterious of all, capable of wielding both the powers of the light and the dark. One would reason that this would make her the most balanced of the tro, but unfortunately the least balanced of the party was playing the role of the wise and Witch A really saw no need to hold back. The Witch charged the attack for the entire 6 seconds to maximise its power and just as they began to advance, the black plasma erupted in all directions, blasting the guardians with unholy energy that invaded every fibre of their being (AWWWYIS!). Though one guardian in particular weathered the blast rather well and responded with an –Anchor lock- to capture the Heretic.

“Gahhh! I’m not allowin thy to get away FOUL WITCH!”

As attack cleared, the guardians found the that the witch had indeed come closer, though a crackling laughter sent a shiver of unease through them the shimmer of radiance a sharp contrast to the contorted grin that otherwise blemished her fair features as a bright white barrier erupted around ‘her’, the –holy rampage- scattered the guardians that had drawn close to him.

“‘n’ yee shall receive relief from ta most irritating distress. GAHAHAHAH! Let get them.”

The great witch couldn’t heal for 10 seconds, but for the personality used to DPS this display of decisive power was well within his nature. Immediately A turned his hand to point at the fellow who lassoed her, though he had been pushed he had also been pulled by his own guard, locking him firmly in place. The woman cackled as the –miasma bullet- formed at her finger tips, she was of course going to charge it up all the way, regardless to danger to her life posed by the bruser being close to her. Of course, afterwards the Dwarf would use a restraining light to bind in place any other guardian that seemed to get the upper hand of Mac Muffin or any of her sisters. After all, though the Muffin was not to her fancy, she had to admit that having a King of Scotland fight was quite flattering as she blushed.

-OI, DWARF, DON’T GET TOO DEEP INTO THE CHARACTER-

-HANG ON THAT’S RIGHT, I AM A MAN!-

A firm slap to her own face snapped the Dwarf out of character, now that was frigging scary.

[Deleted]

505 words HP 100%		Familiar: Grey Wolf MP 85%
Somehow knowing that Witch B was the sister who was less likely to defend against her advances, Witch C continued to harass that sister of hers with the Miasma Appendage. After the butt slap, the black tentacle caressed Witch B’s back and fiddled with her long blonde hair. Maybe the Corruption was slowly getting to Witch C’s head... but she still had her wit about her. The youngest witch casted Gluttonous Haze on her own Wolf so that the creature’s hit points would be replenished as it dealt damage. It would surely need that as soon as the next wave hit, for instead of trash mobs they actually had to fight some decently-leveled guardians. As the next enemy wave arrived, the Wolf pounced on one of the guardians and intended to rip its throat open. The Wolf’s master then began to cast a spell. While she was casting, an incoming guardian was intercepted by her tentacle and it was swatted away by seemingly random flailing. Finally, Witch C conjured a large amount of Miasma and formed a swarm of locusts using the skill Abaddon’s Chariot. The very same guardian which tried to directly attack the witch became its target after the heretic pointed at that target with her middle finger. In panic, the targeted guardian ran around and swung its sword violently without regards as to what it may hit. The locust swarm, made of Miasma, did not leave him alone and instead dug into the unarmored body parts such as his face. As the swarm at him away, the guardian’s hit points were whittled away. The random sword swinging was rather dangerous though, so for good measure, Witch C held him in place with the tangible chains formed by the skill Shackles of the Sentenced. That should give him some time to think about the life that he lived and the memories that he made, for soon his life would be over if not from the Chariot then from any other enemy of his in the fight. How dare these guardians interrupt Witch C from her bonding moment with her sister? She was well on her way to the next stage of skinship, damn it! But as said before, Witch C still had her wit about her despite the Corruption that she inflicted on her own body, so she noted the odds which were stacked against their party. The guardians were close to their level so the final boss, or bosses, should not be far behind. In anticipation of this, Witch C looked over her highest tiered skills. Having noticed the Patient Zero skill and its description, she had a slightly daft “what does this button do?” moment. With her Wolf still on the prowl, Witch C focused on casting the Patient Zero skill and eventually, after she corrupted her own body, the youngest witch turned to a ghastly, vaguely human creature. The next and probably final wave was coming, and she’ll show them that tentacle waving isn’t the only thing that she’s good at.
OOC: - Wave 1: 4 Elsinore Fighters (Lv10 Swashbucklers) - Wave 2: 4 Elsinore Cloakers (Lv25 Assassins) - Wave 3: 4 Elsinore Royal Guards (Lv50 Guardians) - Wave 4: Malcolm (Lv60 Guardian), Banquo (Lv60 Druid), Macduff (Lv60 Samurai)

[Kumori]

	HP 100% Regen 5HP every 5s MP 100% Regen 5MP every 5s	Kumori :: Level 77 :: Assassin Armor: Cuirass of Shadows with Cloak of Darkness Main Weapon: Night’s Kiss by 黒 with Nectar Scabbard and Alvan Blade by 黒 Quick Slot: Heaven's Wrath by 黒 Other: Something
WC: 431	Tags: ?	Skills: Skill name

Bloodlust. That is what this MacBeth had! It didn’t matter that this was Ryuu and that Ryuu didn’t kill for stupid reasons, because this was another world, and part of MacBeth’s emotions and tendencies were pouring out of Ryuu’s soul. The tyrant began to cackle at the approach of the Elsinore Royal Guards, ready to dispatch of the old tyrant because of the mutiny. It seemed that Witch C had dispatched of them quite nicely. Now it was time for the last 3 enemies, the reason for their fight here today. MacBeth had to resort to the aide of three witch sisters, one who he was in love with. Had this been an eroge, he’d probably be taking life by the horns (read: “girl by the hips”) and would have been doing some unsavory things during battle… it would’ve given quite a show, though. It may have ended the fight, now that we’re thinking about it. I mean, some type of lewd act like that would enrapture all of the male antagonists that were coming at MacBeth (and even the male protagonist who was a horn dog surrounded by 3 lolis that looked too good to just stare at). At this point, you’d think that Ryuu was a horn dog himself… well you could be right… I stress the “could be.”

Anyways… this isn’t a monologue by an ethereal being, it is time to get to the crux of the thread and to destroy these pesky traitors. In order to monopolize on the fact that he was so charming and needed all of the attention, even from the traitorous fiends, MacBeth used Ace Move: Kabuto-wari, attempting to split the helm (or head) of the druid. After he did such, he would then use Ace Move: Mawarufuusen in order to draw all of the enemies close to him and finished by using Anchor Howl. He bellowed out loudly and stuck out his tongue in bloodlusting rage. He was about to make heads roll for trying to take away his throne. The tyrannical MacBeth would be the victor here, and the witches his wenches, I mean… advisors. Yes, advisors. They would advise him on how to lead the kingdom and where to direct his head towards.

Anyways, MacBeth really just wanted to kill things and go home so he could take whatever prize he wanted. His lips curled into a smile since he knew what prize he’d be taking. The eyes glistened. He would have his reward, he promised himself this. I think MacBeth might be imprinting a little too much onto Ryuu.