[Celestial Arms Quest 2-5] Reversing the Sands of Time

[Fletcher]

Sark was up and away, bounding into the sunlight and out of the hole high above. This was it, the confrontation that they had been building up to since setting out from Londinium. Using the rubble as a ladder, Fletcher heaved himself upwards towards the light to join his younger companion. His vision must’ve blurred from the change in light, but as he stepped out into the light, a vision crossed his eyes.

---

It had been a rather tiring day. Scholars had been hounding him for hours about how he’d manage to tame such a beast, and been dubbed a Summoner for his actions. Salamander sat stoically next to the young man, enjoying the weather but otherwise seeming like a statue. For everyone else it was just another day; great weather, the sounds of the oceans ebbing and flowing giving a nice touch of ambience to the white noise of many conversations happening over town. This was going to be the only quiet he got all day he figured; sure enough there’d be another advisor or a scholar wanting to take him to the next conference about some kind of invasion it was something else. He didn’t care; not for the people that had dragged him to places, for this place, for the world. He didn’t wish ill upon it, he just didn’t care. Syllabus sighed and Salamander looked over at its master before returning to its stoic pose overlooking the square in which they sat, a grandiose water fountain sitting in its centre.

It was then that he felt a disturbance in the air around him and he stood, looking out into the square with interest and worry. Something was coming, something malicious and it wanted him dead. Salamander had picked up on it too and had taken a more defensive stance, protecting its master from harm. That’s when it happened, a rift opening from the ether itself and from within its depths erupted a swarm of bees, acting as one entity and swallowing all the unfortunate people within its immediate vicinity. It lashed out wildly, starting to do damage to the surrounding buildings and blocking off escape routes, causing those who were trapped to succumb to panic and fear, frozen in place and being nothing more than a snack for the swarm. Syllabus took his staff out, standing at the top of the steps leading up to the library and stared at the monster in the square, a hint of darkness lurking behind his vision. “Salamander; through fiery rites I call on you to this plane, show thy true self and let they judgement reign.” The small dragon pulsed and contorted uncomfortably before growing to comfortably five times the size that it started as. It was a start, but without fire to spur on the summoning there was nothing he could do to get his familiar larger to combat the swarm.

More and more people died, slain by the swarm until there were only a few left; those left within the square steeling themselves to fight the beast head on. It beat going to another conference, but Syllabus’s self-preservation was making him want to take shelter inside the building behind him and let the town guard deal with it. The summoner sighed, the dragon taking point in front and readying itself for combat. One of the people remaining, a town guard, jumped in to try and fight the beast but disappeared behind a cloud of fluttering wings and loud buzzing, never to be seen again. It was time to fight this thing, but they’d need to be smart; at least they had a dragon on their side.

Word Count: 610
Sark

[Sark]

The city was in trouble. Sark and his partner, Fletcher, had been teleported to the mysterious city of Lune. It was linked to the Pebble of Philosophy, and the Trickster's prophecy. Sark, Fletcher and the countless other adventurers who had entered Lune had been given a simple statement; change the past to change the future.

It was therefore with a sense of excitement, of trepidation of meeting something important, and of anxiousness for the civilians dying that Sark fearlessly rushed up the rubble and into the city of Lune. The bright sunlight blinded the acrobatic samurai, who raised one hand to shield his eyes. 

Skill Descriptions:

Chain 01: "Lightspeed" Denkosetta, "Steel-Cutting Blade" Zantetsuken Chain 02: "Flashwave" Shunsen, "Vacuum Slash" Izunagiri Chain 03: "Blade Clone" Tsuguri Bunshin, "Divinity Slash" Seinaru Shinken Adventr.: Spear Break, Aura Swing Miscella.: Emergency Suture, Magic Light Party Up: Unyielding Spirit

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He lowered his hand, which had shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun, then lurched at the sudden motion sickness. An unusual feeling came over the placid deliveryman, who felt much too ... tall. And calm. The feeling passed after a few moments, so the man simply shrugged his shoulders, readjusted his oversized delivery bag, and got back to work.

He jogged down the wide Esplanade within the Blue District. As a Green district citizen he might have usually stood out a little, but the deliveryman was a well known figure. His occupation let him avoid the worst of the district biases, with most districts agreeing that a courier was perhaps the best use of the "free spirit wild child" tendencies that the Green people had. He slowed his jog down at the base of the hill, where he waited for the Magitech train to pass. While the warning lights blared their notifications that Danger was coming, Pavi took a moment to go over his locations for the day. First, there was the tinkerer by the bay. He was a Purple man down to his core, always talking about the profits that could be driven from his tinkerings. But, he was a welcome customer all the same who tipped well, so Pavi tried to let his eccentricities not get to him. After that he could pick up the banal messages from the scribes, and deliver the packets of herbs to the Master Apothecary. After that would be several more jobs, all within the mainland Purple district. The train passed, and Pavi started his tireless jog once again.

A discord sound echoed up from the bay. Pavi tilted his long, elven ears towards the sound. Destruction. Screams. He spent a moment considering his options, before deciding that he owed the spirits his assistance. If he let Lune suffer too much damage, the spirits would berate him not assisting earlier. With a small sigh for the trouble this would cause to his schedule he changed directions, and picked up his pace. He knew a few back-alley routes that would get him to the danger quickly.

While he ran he reached into his magical bag. It took his questing fingers a few seconds to find what he was searching for, and with a grunt drew out his crossbow. It was one of the new designs, focused not on power but on deterrence. It featured quick loading actions, and a novel self-reloading function for a small clip of bolts. He eyed the small bolts uneasily as a particularly loud scream echoed down the alley. Perhaps he should have gone for the hard-hitting, slow loading option after all. With a final breath to steel his nerves the postman left the safety of the alley and ran into the fountain plaza.

It was a terrible sight. Blood and gore was splattered across the cafe furniture, which was mostly shattered as is. The fountain itself had been tinted pink. He was in time to see the final guard torn to pieces, by what seemed to be a dark, broiling cloud of some type. The main body moved in to do something to the corpse, whilt scouting parties spread out, attacking paving stones, the fountain and whatever else it could possibly reach. It was sentient in a sense, but clearly not intelligent.

"Spirits guide me." He solemnly requested before raising his crossbow and firing a warning shot into the mass of monsters. Nothing happened. A second shot, this time intended to slow down the monsters seemed to also cause no impact on the thousands of individuals.

It was at that point he became aware of another figure in the plaza; a younger man with one of those 'summons' people had been so thrilled about. Pavi raised an arm, and while keeping an eye on the swarm jogged to his location. A party function automatically started between them a boon of the city's complex magical rituals.

A barrier, itself a complex magical formula appeared in front of this summoner.

"Be careful. The spirit's shield should keep you safe for a time. Does your thing fight?"

The swarm had finished with the guard's remains, now also a smear of gore and blood like the others. It turned it shared intelligence towards the pair and move towards them.

Shaman: ______ 15 ???:  __________ 15 Courier: _______ 30

Word Count: 823 x1.3 = 1069

Pokes: Fletcher

OOC: I enjoyed making this post too much.

Skill Descriptions:

???

M44: Praesepe Sentinels
Level 50
Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Sleep]
Skills:
- History Written by the Victors: Passive. This monster cannot be killed.
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Unintelligible: Passive. Tongue of Nature is unusable on this monster.
- Poison Attack: Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.

Description: A vicious swarm of pitch black hornets that broke out of a mysterious portal. Historians credit such a phenomenon to have afflicted the ancient people of Lonsdale in their capital city, heavily decimating their population.

[Fletcher]

Syllabus felt it coming, the swarm was running out of people to target and he was high on their target list. Salamander growled in defiance to their impending fate, refusing to die here so soon after coming into this world. Syllabus noticed a new arrival to the scene, a column falling down into the back alley behind him as he joined the fray. He’d seen this gentleman around before, and as far as he was aware he was just another mailman, someone that delivered parcels to the masses and little else. It was interesting to see just how spirited people became when their lives were in danger. An inspiration, truly. The courier shot his crossbow at the swarm, seemingly uneffaced by the attack; next came a follow up with just as much impact as the first.

He spotted him and the summoner’s eyes grew wide as the courier joined him. Who was this guy? That said, if they were going to die today, it was at least done better by fighting. Salamander gave the newcomer a fierce look, primal indignation burning behind amber eyes; not directed at Pavi, but entirely directed at the swarm making its claim to Lune. A barrier was formed around the summoner, causing the dragon to snarl at it, unsure of what to make of it. Pavi seemed willing to assist, but asked about Salamander’s capacity for battle. Syllabus could only smirk, tapping the bottom of staff and the Salamander leapt into action, embers burning behind its teeth as it leapt from the top of the stairs down into the middle of the market square. Complete and utter mastery over the beast was what warranted him his title as summoner. There were none others that he was aware of that matched his prowess, although maybe some had beasts of their own, he was the only one to have tamed Salamander.

That rugged landscape to the far south was where they met, a tired and injured dragon stopping to roost, and a young boy travelling upwards to Lune. He could remember the day all too well, climbing that hill and resting at the top, or he would’ve if there wasn’t an adolescent dragon curled up with a damaged wing. Something had torn it up bad, and even though he could feel the magic comprising its form, there was no anima left. Or rather, it had the sliver of anima left to survive. There were tales of dragons, but long since had they been hunted down or chased off for their hoards or turned into equipment; they were rare. That feeling of reaching out and tethering his own existence to the beast, making it reliant on him to survive. But that was just the thing; nothing he had ever known was ever going to willingly lay down and die, and today would be no exception.

Tipping his staff forward, almost as if an act of puppetry sent the dragon headfirst into the swarm. “Salamander, burn it to the ends of this world; a searing Armageddon, level everything in your wake.” The summoner’s eyes glinted with gold, the same colour of the dragon it was tethered to. A malicious grin formed on the summoner’s mouth, movements wild as if conducting the throws of battle. Salamander started searing bees left and right, tongues of fire erupting and engulfing parts of the swarm. It was clear to Pavi though that Syllabus cared not for any collateral damage that may be dealt to the city, but what he did seem to be doing was holding the bees back although barely. He slammed his staff down, tip first growling and an explosion centred around Salamander burst the swarm apart, bees falling like fiery rain. Syllabus smiled calmly, figuring that the battle was over and won; while half the city was on fire, the task had been done. He turned to Pavi, wearing the same dazed and calm expression before speaking. “The danger is over.” Behind him the fire burned on, with Salamander at its center.

But something was wrong, something amiss to this scene that caused Syllabus to look back at Salamander. The buzzing hadn’t stopped, and while the explosion had singed a lot of the bees, it turns out it was not even the main body of them. The swarm regrouped and descended upon Salamander, the link between summoner and beast causing the summoner to buckle in pain, falling to a knee. This thing was too strong, unrelenting and far from being defeated. That said, they weren’t able to beat it back with just the two of them; they needed more firepower to offset the strength that it had over them as a pair, but they needed it now. The explosion had cracked open the earth to the darkness below, buildings were crumbling, and impending doom lingered over them like a guillotine. Was salvation nowhere to be found?

Word Count: 816
Total Word Count: 1426
Sark

[Sark]

In response to Pavi's question about the dragon's capability to fight, the boy only smirked. A surge of irrational anger rose in Pavi; he had asked a question and this was no time to be playing high status low status. He suppressed the feeling with the ease of an action well practiced, and turned a smile on and off for the boy. The boy looked rich, and probably did not have the battle experience to know questions asked in times of danger were not flippant.

A strong staff was tapped against the ground, which seemed to be some trained command to the lizard. It bounced forward with liquid fire dripping from its short muzzle and it bounded into the melee. Pavi wanted to warn the summoner for his pet's safety, but it seemed to be holding its own. The hornets fell in great smoking heaps, accompanied by a strong, tarry smell.

'In that case, spirit's permitting, I shall protect this youngling.'

His focus shifted from attack to defence. The crossbow was dropped to hip height, still aimed at the swarm. Whispered commands came from Pavi's mouth, some of the words sounding heavy and thick to the ears. Several bolts floated free from his quiver and hung at a parallel height to the crossbow. Following this the whispered words came slower, and heavier still. A fog seeped from the ground about the pair of fighters, cloaking their knees in a damp mist. The shapes in the fog looked like hundreds of vague faces, and looking about themselves before folding back into obscurity.

The mantra was interrupted with a fierce explosion from the lizard, who burst apart the swarm and the facade of several stores. Several bricks clattered against the invisible shield that Pavi had constructed, and a second later a shattered, needle sharp chair leg broke itself upon the same shield. The lizard was certainly powerful, but it was unrefined and a danger to the summoner as much as to the monsters it targetted it seemed.

“The danger is over.” The boy said with a smug tone that begged to be slapped from his face. Pavi resisted the notion once again, dampening his automatic responses and instead focused on the remains of the battle.

"It is true, your fire creature is powerful. I apologise for my misunderstanding. You and your companion have single handedly defeated this abhorrent swarm." He answered the question he felt that the boy was really asking. Like many his age, he thought he was an expert on all things, and one had to play along to get along.

Still, a little criticism never hurt. "But at what cost? Perhaps with more time you and your companion will become proficient in fighting, rather than proficient in destroying."

He indicated the now ruined plaza. With this level of destruction the spirits would be sure to scold him tonight, as they did for any infringement they saw. He owed his life to the spirits, and they knew this more keenly that even Pavi. Fires raged down several side streets, great holes had been torn in the earth, and many of the walls had been devastated. Truly, the lizard had caused more property damage than the evil hornets had.  As Pavi's eyes surveyed the destruction he noticed the smoking piles move. In a few seconds the smoke was entirely extinguished, and the swarm regrouped about the lizard. The swarm had learned which parts of the animal were dangerous, and instead sunk their cruel, hooked barbs into its wings, tail and belly. In seconds the animal was covered in a blanket from the neck down in the deadly insects and writhed in pain as it was eaten and destroyed. The boy next to Pavi seemed to mimic this, screaming in pain and clutching at his body.

A primal fear rose in Pavi; what sort of cursed magic had this man performed to control this lizard? To feel another's pain required an intense contract of magical formula, or was a side effect of several rumoured spells whose effects were as mysterious as they were double edged. Regardless, there was little to be done now about that; he had to focus on preserving the lives about him. If he could focus on saving lives, he could explain his actions and this damage to the local spirits that way.

A single word was whispered, which burned at Pavi's throat. A little colour returned to the boy's cheeks, and his white-knuckled grip seemed to loosen a little. The healing spell might help the boy recover enough to work on his own, but the source of the pain needed to be scared away. He took a deep breath to calm suddenly jittery nerves.

The crossbow was angled up, and with another Spellword it was fired. The bolt arced high into the air, and at reaching its zenith seemed to explode. Each of the 9 splinters rapidly grew as they fell, each growing to the size and shape of the original bolt. These fell amongst the swarm, driving a few away. With the magical reloader active, the next shot was already loaded. Several bolts followed in succession, splitting a portion of the swarm off to deal with this problem One by one they fell, only to rise again a few seconds later hale and whole. Desperation slowly overtook determination, with Pavi shooting blindly as he ran to and fro, forever trying to keep away of the vile looking hornets. He kept his barriers on his companion as a priority, cloaking the boy with monster dampening barriers, damage interception and disease avoidance. The spirits demanded a certain level of altruism, referring to it as the 'circle of philosophy.' Those who help others will be helped in turn, often when they most truly need that help.

Running into a corner, Pavi realised his error. An untamed fire roared through the windows beside Pavi, slowly searing his right side as he turned to see the unhurt swarm approaching him. This was it then.

Shaman: ______ 15 ???:  __________ 15 Courier: _______ 30

Word Count: 1002 x1.3 = 1302

Pokes: Fletcher

OOC: Going with your interpretation of our OCs joining the fight, rather than fight restarting for 2-6

Skill Descriptions:

???

M44: Praesepe Sentinels
Level 50
Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Sleep]
Skills:
- History Written by the Victors: Passive. This monster cannot be killed.
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Unintelligible: Passive. Tongue of Nature is unusable on this monster.
- Poison Attack: Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.

Description: A vicious swarm of pitch black hornets that broke out of a mysterious portal. Historians credit such a phenomenon to have afflicted the ancient people of Lonsdale in their capital city, heavily decimating their population.

[/quote]

[Fletcher]

Fletcher immediately regretted not calling it quits when he had the chance. As the pair of them stepped out from the catacombs and into the sunlight, they were bathed in the sweltering heat that came from the inferno blazing around them. Buildings were on fire, and what was left of some were merely burning piles of rubble. The sky was blotted out by thick clouds of smoke, pluming up into the sky. What had happened here was not good, and from what Fletcher could see they were too late. He’d be more resigned to the idea if his Pebble of Philosophy wasn’t in fact vibrantly glowing in his hand, and it appeared that Sark’s was doing the same. Was this the tipping point of fate? Could they change the future?

The older of the two dwarves did a quick assessment of the battlefield to find where he was needed first. To his immediate left was a portion of a large swarm of bees, attacking something pinned down but it was hard to make out what exactly. Everyone else that he could see had been comprised of rubble and corpses bar two things. One was a staff wielding individual hunched over and protected by a rapidly failing barrier at the top of the stairs leading up to the entrance of a large building. The second, a man with a crossbow who had just had his side singed with the roaring flames from a window that had caved to the heat. Time began to slow, grinding almost to a halt with Fletcher’s breath being the only thing he could hear. What to do? What could he do? A voice echoed in the back of his mind, one that he’d heard before not too long ago, and his fist tightened around the Pebble of Philosophy in his hand, feeling the same burst of energy he had against Brachyura.

Things began to speed up from his perspective, back to a normal pace, but his hand was already in motion, sweeping an arc upwards from the ground before pointing at the spot between the prone man and the swarm of bees. ”Undine! Protect that man, do not let the swarm get to him!” As he spoke, a woman of pale blue skin and silk garb manifested from the ether between the two, putting up a barrier of water to disrupt the attack made on the man. A trident of water appeared in her hand, and with it she formed a protective cover for the one she was ordered to protect. Fletcher moved onto the next problem, making a dash for the staff wielder at the top of the stairs, ready to heal up what wounds were necessary. As he got there though, he slowed down, experiencing two things. The first of which was a familiarity and strange recollection of seeing this young boy before. This was the one he’d seen at the meeting; the one he’d seen in the mirror before he headed out this morning; the one that they referred to as Lord Syllabus. Fletcher’s head began to ache as the memories began to bleed over into his own, unsure of where his started and the other summoner’s began. The second feeling was pain, and it was stemming from the cloud of bees attacking something in its midst.

”Salamander…” Syllabus looked up at the mention of the dragon to the dwarf who was kneeling by him, also pained. Where had he come from and when? He was certain that no others were around, but more importantly he’d never seen him around town before. As much as he was uncertain about what was to happen, a small part of him was grateful that the dwarf had come to his aid, and by extention the aid of Salamander. The problem was that how did he know? Syllabus looked across the battlefield and saw that there was another newcomer, along with a maiden of blue and made of water; was this dwarf a summoner as well? He would make the effort to raise his nose at a commoner if the situation was more appropriate, but he just didn’t have the energy, the thin strand of mana connecting him and Salamander persisted to ensure that the dragon wouldn’t fall. Fletcher, followed the line from the swarm back to the young boy and made the connection, standing up and sweeping his hand from one side to the other, frowning. ”Salamander! You’re dismissed!” And with that, the line of mana between the dragon and younger summoner snapped, relieving the amount of pain that the younger one was undoubtedly feeling.

The swarm however didn’t seem to like its prey being dissipated from underneath its grasp and began to pulse in its cloud, giving off the impression that it was angry or preparing for a new attack. “You…” Syllabus picked himself up, propping himself up against the staff and making a pained face. “How did you… Where did you… Why… My Summon… Why…” The boy was babbling too much for Fletcher’s own liking and was soon grabbed roughly by the collar and thrown up against one of the pillars of the library. The dwarf’s eyes were fierce and looked up at the boy whose feet were only a centimetre off the ground from the relative height difference between him and Fletcher. He was stunned, wondering who would dare lay hands on one such as himself.

Fletcher growled before barking words at Syllabus before roughly putting him aside. ”You’ve gone and screwed up big, kid. You’re sure as hell lucky that we arrived.” Fletcher turned away, focusing on the swarm readying itself and bringing together all scouting parties in order to amass itself into something bigger. ”Let me show you how it’s really done, kid.” With a hand raised to the heavens, Fletcher bellowed out. ”Brilliance that is a kiln’s child: Summon Follower- Salamander!” From the roaring embers around them, and the wildfire that a careless child had created, fuelled by a determination and rage of someone annoyed at the cards dealt to him, Salamander formed before him, bigger than its previous incarnation and refreshed for battle. Without waiting for a command, the dragon started to incinerate the outer edges of the swarm, keeping it pinned lower to the ground for Sark to follow up, and enclosed so that it couldn’t get away.


Word Count: 1061
Total Word Count: 2487
Sark

OOC: Feel free to deliver the final blow on the level 50 version and kick off the fight against the level 90 one.

[Sark]

The swarm was closing in on Pavi, and he knew with a terrible finality this was it; this was where he would die. Just a statistic amongst the dead from an unknown attack. He might get his name mentioned on a monument to mourn the event, but most likely he would just be forgetten quickly. His debt to the spirits would remain unfulfilled, and his various messages in his bag right now would be lost. 

Then, with only a minor warning in the manafield a lady appeared. She was clealy not human with her azure skin and clothing that clung scantily close. She raised a shield of water clear enough that the the swarm could be seen through her, but it seemed to deter them mightily. Through it, he could see a pair of individuals clambouring across the battlefield now, both covered in a radiant light that was slowly washing across the entire field. As that gentle light passed through the shield and struck Pavi, he gasped and spasmed. His muscles instantly swelled and condensed, his armour grew strange filligree, and his crossbow darkened as if it had been made of finely aged and oiled wood. The most staggering change was his sense of self. His own awareness blossomed so strongly he could hear the each individual whisper of the spirits that spoke so quietly to him, he could feel each wound and instinctively know its risk. Overall he felt stronger, faster, wiser and more. What was that enlightening glow from those two? 

Filled with determination, Sark did not slow as he crested the debris and entered the battle. He spotted the swarm and moved towards it. Relying on his peripheral vision he saw a grisly scene; a town square covered in blood splatter, flaming debris, shattered buildings and a swarm of strange black hornets. They had the same aura about them as the crabman had; something Sark wanted to childishly simplify to just "evil."

Like his battle with the crabman, he levelled up. From one step to the next the light of the pebble enveloped him. His already high STR stat skyrocketted, with his muscles not growing in bulk but in density. Each step doubled in length as his AGI similarly grew. His mental prowess seemed to sharpen as well, leaving the Samurai noticing the small details of the battlefield. He spared a small smile for his equipment, which with minor shifts were transmuted as well into something much finer. Using skill chains he did not know, the samurai skidded to a halt. No-one seemed in immediate danger, so he would have the time to improve himself.


"Ace Move: Lightspeed!"  The familiar arcs of mana burst around him, thicker than he was used to but still providing that speed boost he relied on.

"Ace Move: Airship!" While this skill charged up he watched the salamander pop like a balloon. The swarm flared out looking for new prey as Sark's feet left the ground.


He drew a breath; this was the final part of the combination, allowing him to rely on his speed & manoeuvrability to unleash a huge number of basic attacks, like a heavy hitting swashbuckler. "Ace Move: Blade Mirage!" "-age!" As he spoke a transparent duplicate of Sark appeared, hovering 6 inches behind its owner and mimicking everything it did 1 second after.

The pair of Samurai, now fully boosted, rushed their target. A new Salamander had appeared, hedging in the hornets who were quickly disappearing under the edge of the fire. Using this as a wall to slam them against, and confident in his 45% fire resistant the pair of samurai leapt high into the sky, unleashing a basic attack. As they bounced against the ground they sprung to one side then another, slashing each time and slowly whittling away the hornets. Second by second the sword-and-dragon net shrunk, killing more and more hornets. Fierce pride swelled through Sark; they were doing it! They were saving this city! And it was so easy!


The last hornet was slashed in two, and a moment later the three stacked buffs faded away, with Sark touching the ground. A cheery smile dominated his face.

"Guys; that was totes amazing! I can't believe we did it so quick! This was so much faster th--"

His celebrations halted as he felt a dark wind stir his advanced danger senses. Spinning about with his sword raised, Sark was just in time to see a portal appear. Another swarm, this one much larger, emerged. It had a killing intent that washed over the battlefield, mixing and competing with the optimism inherent within each pebble. 

"Okay ... maybe I spoke to soon. This might need all of us."

HP:95%___MP: 98%

Word Count: 785 x1.3 = 1020

Pokes: Fletcher

HP: 100%__MP: 80%

M44: Praesepe Hive

Level 90
Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Darkness, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Poison, Sleep]
Skills:
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Poison Attack: Passive. Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Mitotic Manifestation: Passive. When under 25% HP, this monster splits into two. Both resulting monsters retain the same HP value.
- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.
- Beehive Cloud: Praesepe changes forms into a larger but thinner cloud. Reduces all enemy melee and ranged damage by 50% but increases its vulnerability to AoE attacks by 50%.
- Hivemind: Praesepe changes forms into a densely-compacted hand-shaped cloud. Drastically increases Praesepe's physical melee damage.
- Pestilence: Praesepe sends some of its main fleet to constantly attack an enemy for gradual damage over time. This effect lasts for the duration of the fight.
- Final Sting: Praesepe inflicts heavy physical melee damage to one target. Used every 30 seconds. This skill has a casting time of 3 seconds and can be canceled by stun or cast-interrupting effects.
- Beehive Nebula: Praesepe creates an area of effect indicator with a 10 meter radius around itself. After 5 seconds, anyone within that boundary takes 25% of their total HP in damage. Praesepe starts to use this attack when it reaches 25% of its HP.
Description: "Submit. Surrender. Despair." The Genius of Celestial Pestilence, a hivemind of black hornets that swarm in a formation that resembles a black cloud with a glowing red portion within. It speaks in singular words instead of sentences.

[Fletcher]

As planned, Sark followed up the assault on the cloud of hornets with a chain of skills that he was unfamiliar with the samurai knowing. He figured that there was something at play with how the Pebble responded to the Geniuses and bringing out the best in someone, and it was different again for Sark than it was to himself. Fletcher looked back at Syllabus with a disapproving frown; the kid may be who powered his own Pebble of Philosophy, but he didn’t have to like him. In fact, he was liking him less as time was going on, a snivelling child that wielded power far beyond his years; at the rate that this supposed powerful summoner was proving himself, Fletcher found himself much rather wishing to talk to the Messier Sages over him.

As Sark felled the beast, Salamander backed off, awaiting further instruction. Syllabus was awed by this stranger’s mastery over Salamander, and was at a loss as to where he’d come from. He was the one that had tamed the beast first, but this man not only dismissed his own summon, he took control of it and each motion was practised as if performed many times over; it was true synchronisation. Syllabus stood up, clutching his staff and staying quiet, looking over the battlefield as feelings began to stir within him. He had seen this scene before and had dealt with this problem in the past. The dwarf was giving off a powerful aura, and he felt his very being strengthen with resolve, the fire in his eyes coming to life with a renewed fire.

A rift opened in the wake of the swarm of bees, a larger, more unified swarm emerging in place of the one before with this one being much larger. Was this the thing that wiped out the town, or was this the follow up act that wasn’t needed the first time around in their timeline? Fletcher frowned as Sark called out that they’d all need to take the beast down; he wasn’t wrong either, this thing just exuded a powerful presence that kept them from running away. Not that they could, all avenues of escape was out of the question. ”Hey Syllabus, you don’t know me and I barely know you, but you’re going to need to summon.” The boy hesitated through disbelief that the pleasantries had been skipped but agreed nonetheless, focusing on the furthest reaches his mind would take him, calling out to any that may heed his call. He did this for Salamander, but there were more here, others that he could call upon; it was all as if just as the dwarf had demonstrated, it was just second nature.

“Here me, oh valiant beasts of war!” He outstretched his staff motioning to the swarm of hornets. “I call thee to my aid: Salamander! Phoenix!” Syllabus seemed to like the fire element more than the others, and Fletcher sighed; at least he was capable of dual summoning, a handy trick that the dwarf himself had learned through experiencing Syllabus’s own memories. The battlefield now consisted of two dragons, a bird of fire and an Undine protecting the other civilian. Fletcher may have to call off the Undine if healing had to be done, but he was more in the mood for, and figured that a full on assault was going to do them better in the long run. Syllabus commanded his monsters into battle, conducting them the same as he did before and the pair of them began wreaking havoc among the already burning town. Fletcher meanwhile closed his eyes and breathed deep, throwing open his eyes as small orbs of fire encircled him, the trait of Elemental Festival coming active. He didn’t have long to do what he needed to, but he would be able to do something to put a dent in the hornet’s HP.

Fletcher set his own Salamander to task doing as it had before, trying to keep it pinned and forcing it to want to spread apart. He needed that monster to want to separate; as a condensed mass all the bees on the outside were taking the brunt of the attacks, whereas what they wanted was to hit the mass in the centre where it really hurt. Back on the farm he’d known bees to huddle around their queen and this was potentially the same thing, they just needed to bust open the outer shell. As the attacks stacked on, any time something fire-based was used another charge lent itself to Fletcher’s ritual, adding to the power of his current spell; he hoped that Syllabus had this as well, as if the first volley wasn’t going to be sufficient they’d need a follow-up. ”Elemental Bolt!” Five of the baubles floating around Fletcher’s body coalesced around his hand and his spell sent a super powered, fire elemental projectile at the swarm, exploding on impact and covering a decent spread of the frontal section.

Elemental Festival was boosting the power of his fire elemental moves every time someone around him used a skill of the matching element; either Salamanders, Phoenix, Sark, and even the civilian that Undine was providing cover for all gave him that boost. It was going to last for another fifteen seconds, so if they wanted to maximise on the burst damage then they’d need to do so, quickly. With the addition of more summoned beasts, the swarm was finding it hard to latch onto any one target engaging it in the same way that it had taken down Salamander before. It didn’t seem to be slowing down any though, even after the blast of fire from the summoner. Forming into a large fist it crushed Fletcher’s Salamander into the ground with a downward punch. The dragon was still alive, but its HP wasn’t looking to great; at least unlike Syllabus the beasts could be resummoned from death if it were to happen.

Word Count: 991
Total Word Count: 991
Sark

[Sark]

The new, thicker swarm hovered menacingly while the evanescent portal disappeared like oil in a fry pat. It seemed at least twice the size of the prior swarm, and had a certain, broad sentience that seemed to cloak the battlefield. Sark felt like someone was watching over his shoulder, and sneering at what they saw. 

"Submit."

The word echoed about the town square with a strange silence. Sark knew that he had heard it, but he also knew that nothing had spoken it. It wasn't like the telepathy between friends or a party, the word was just there. He could only assume it was the hivemind speaking; a concept he had become familiar with when playing StarzCraft; a tactical game set  on intergalactic battlefields of competing alien armies pop idols. 

Sark took a moment to review the battlefield; Fletcher and the boyish summoner from the vision were talking together, one tapping his whip unconsciously against his thigh in irritation, the other trying to keep their staff between themselves and the disapproving dwarf. They seemed to be discussing something tactical as a moment later a pair of additional summons appeared; a phoenix whose flaming body instantly raised a sweat on Sark, and a duplicate Salamander dragon. Despite the doppelgangers, it was clear who owned each Salamander. Fletcher's was focused and careful, using minimal wing actions to almost hover in place, and using its fire to herd the horde, who were retreating from its blistering heat. In comparison, the other dragon seemed almost untamed in comparison, its actions swooping and its fire damaging buildings as much as the swarm. 

"Excuse me, ma'am.

Sark heard from over his shoulder, spotting the the Lune local walk past Undine. He held his crossbow confidently, and had a certain determination to his step. He seemed a messenger of sorts, but with dozens of crossbow bolts arranged on his person, each of them seemingly covered in flowing script. Judging by the way the man was still eyeing off these bolt, it seemed a new addition to him. The messenger had a determined cast to his expression, and seemed to need to clear his chest before he could fight with a clear mind.

"The spirits are whispering to you, young dwarf, in the way they whisper to me. Yet you seem ignorant of them. I've been told to assist where I can, and keep you and the other boy safe. Will you accept this?"

Sark nodded dumbly, understanding only one word in three. He didn't know what was going on, and really felt he should be fighting the monsters instead of chatting about religions. In the hopes that it might soothe the man's spirits and give him some hope, Sark gave a confused thums up. It seemed to stop the messenger being weird, as the tall elf nodded and began to instead mutter under his breath.

"Hybrid barriers of cleansing flames and of armour, spirits protect this one through me"

A tingling, similar to the feeling from Lightspeed spread across Sark. It started at his scalp and quickly sheathed his entire body. The feeling was peculiar; but best described as placing sunburn lotion on burnt skin. His skin felt both cool and hot, and it felt like it was helping somehow. A glance showed that his skin was beneath a pair of mixing colours; a pale blue and a fiery red. The samurai took this as a que to begin fighting, so with a loud shout he cried;


"Ace Move: Samurai Soul!; Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain & The Tigers of Kai!"

It was a special technique known only to the most elite samurai. Samurai soul allowed his to skip the momentum building techniques, skipping directly to his most powerful attacks. In this case, the combined techniques of WFFM and Tiger's of Kai. It was an advanced combination of his final-blow "Divinity Slash" and a technique Sark has accidentally discovered during his fight with the the previous Genius. A third barrier exploded about the Samurai, the result of WFFM. It created a layer of genuine flames which would deterr any would-be attackers with its heat, while his greatsword was covered with a thin layer of wind-mana which extended his strikes with small additional wind bullets.

"Extinguish. Flames. Kill. All."

More words appeared in Sark's mind, drivel to be ignored. With a skill enhanced lunge the thrice protected samurai dashed towards the mob. The intense heat from the summoned creatures seemed to flow around Sark, the mixed red barrier sparkling whenever a tongue of flames licked against it. Sark began with a flip, slashing blindly in the the thickest part of the mob, which was quickly combined into a flicking slash to the left and right. Seven more slashes were twirled from his body, each throwing the Samurai into a faster spin. Finally, he leapt high into the air, where his sword began to shine with a divine light. He hung suspended for a moment, watching the swarm try to navigate between the triple firey threats of the summons. Spotting whether the swarm was at its thickest, the Samurai fell. A primal roar ripped from his throat as he passed through dragonflame unscathed. The sword swung with his full weight behind it, crashing through the glowing midst of the swarm and destroying the pavers beneath, which fell into the now-exposed tunnels below. The force of the airflow burst the swarm apart temporarily, leaving Sark with a savage grin. 

His grin dropped; the swarm quickly coallesced into a tight fist-shaped group and slammed a salamander from the sky. Sark had seen what a swarm could do to a downed dragon and rushed over with concern clear on his features. Nearing the genius he raised his sword to deter them, but that seemed to be exactly what it wanted. With a turn of speed previously unknow a dozen of the hornets burst from the swarm, impacting against Sark stinger first. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back several pace, but surprisingly there was no pain. It felt like getting pushed back by a bus made out of pillows. Looking down, he could see the crumpled forms of the hornets slide down the blue barrier that cloaked his skin. In a few seconds the hornets burned away, a deterrent to furthr attacks thanks to his flaming armour.

---

Pavi looked across at the pair of cloth-bound monster tamers. While the older dwarf looked like the sort of man who had a certain amount of hardiness to him, neither seemed well protected. A single hornet could get through their flimsy cloth and leave a terrible, possibly poisonous wound. Pavi decided that he would keep an eye on them, and should they begin to take the attention of the swarm he could pass the spirits' Abstinence on them; a prayer he could perform which would make its target seem as innocent and pure as freshly fallen snow, and not a worthwhile target for a monster to attack. In the meantime his goal was simple; protect their front-line guard while the immortal monsters fought on their behalf against this spirit-hated swarm of hornets. He had little in the way of direct damage he could inflict, especially with his crossbow bolts, but he should be able to allow his impromptu companions the assurance of mind and the confidence of body to continue to fight.

'And here I thought the spirits has misunderstood our words when they said I'm the insurance of the town.'

HP:95%___MP: 72%

Word Count: 1.3x 1247 = 1621 Skills Timers: Flaming barrier- 20sec Armour barrier- 110sec WFFM- 5 sec left

Pokes: Fletcher OOC: So it turns out Tigers of Kai also does bonus damage if the thing is weak to fire xDDD Yessss. Sark is also spamming biggest skills now.

HP: 100%__MP: 40%

M44: Praesepe Hive

Level 90
Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Darkness, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Poison, Sleep]
Skills:
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Poison Attack: Passive. Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Mitotic Manifestation: Passive. When under 25% HP, this monster splits into two. Both resulting monsters retain the same HP value.
- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.
- Beehive Cloud: Praesepe changes forms into a larger but thinner cloud. Reduces all enemy melee and ranged damage by 50% but increases its vulnerability to AoE attacks by 50%.
- Hivemind: Praesepe changes forms into a densely-compacted hand-shaped cloud. Drastically increases Praesepe's physical melee damage.
- Pestilence: Praesepe sends some of its main fleet to constantly attack an enemy for gradual damage over time. This effect lasts for the duration of the fight.
- Final Sting: Praesepe inflicts heavy physical melee damage to one target. Used every 30 seconds. This skill has a casting time of 3 seconds and can be canceled by stun or cast-interrupting effects.
- Beehive Nebula: Praesepe creates an area of effect indicator with a 10 meter radius around itself. After 5 seconds, anyone within that boundary takes 25% of their total HP in damage. Praesepe starts to use this attack when it reaches 25% of its HP.
Description: "Submit. Surrender. Despair." The Genius of Celestial Pestilence, a hivemind of black hornets that swarm in a formation that resembles a black cloud with a glowing red portion within. It speaks in singular words instead of sentences.

[Fletcher]

Despite Salamander being crushed by a fist made of bees, the fight was going quite well. The two civilians that they’d stumbled into were both still alive, and both were invigorated by the light bathed upon them by the Pebble of Philosophy. If Fletcher and Sark didn’t intervene when they did, who knows what would’ve happened. Undoubtedly the only thing for certain was that the town would have ended up a smouldering mess from the amount of flames currently burning around them. The cloud of hornets were spouting nonsense about how the flames needed to be extinguished and that it needed to kill everything. It’s what any villain with an aversion to fire would want to do, especially when facing being placed in a kiln tempered by two dragons and a fire bird.

Sark was a sight to behold as well, with the buff bestowed by the Pebble, his stats were probably skyrocketing. He moved faster, and his body moved in a way befitting someone that had just suddenly leapt up to level ninety. Truly, the power he exhibited was scary, but he could hardly be surprised after experiencing the effects of such a jump himself and see it reflected in his followers as well. Syllabus was having a similar reaction it seemed, with his behaviour seeming more deliberate with how he commanded his beasts. However, there was something that Fletcher couldn’t place his finger on; why did the memories of this summoner flow into him and give him power, when the very summoner those memories belonged to was just as inexperienced if not more so than him? Was this an instance of future events effecting the events of the past?

Fletcher’s brow furrowed, eyes flicking across the battlefield. While Salamander kept the beast supressed and low enough to the ground so that Sark could continue wailing on it with his skills, but therein lay a problem; his MP was running out faster than what he was probably used to, and if it wasn’t fixed any time soon he’d find himself a sitting duck. Fletcher gathered five more charges from his Elemental Festival and fired off another super charged salvo at the swarm, scattering the charred husks of hornets across the battlefield. The skill’s duration faded, but the fact that he’d managed to get two volleys of super powered fire off at the swarm was more than enough worth for the whole minute it would take before available for use again.

”Undine! Dimissed!” With a sweep of his hand and an affirmative nod from the water Valkyrie she faded back away into the either. He had to deal with healing and assist from the rear as the Operator if they were going to maintain their pace in dealing with the beast. ”Carbuncle! Phantasmal Heal!” With a flash of light Carbuncle leapt forth into existence next to Sark, bathing him in a ruby light and bringing his MP back up to 70%. The bracelet on his wrist was custom made to boost the power of Carbuncle and the effects of Phantasmal heal, but he didn’t realise it would work on any incarnation of the same beast. The teal wolf looked to its side, eyeing Sark. This was not the same Carbuncle that he was familiar with, instead of the lithe fox that Sark had known Fletcher to have by his side, instead was a proud and powerful looking wolf with the same coloured fur, although tinged with flecks of white and red along its back.

Satisfied that Sark for the time being was healed to a point of being able to continue his spell spam, Fletcher directed his attention to pulling his Salamander further back to keep it out of the way. It had been struck once, and this thing hit hard. One more hit and it surely would have been finished off. As he expected, the follow up was soon to come but targeted Syllabus’s dragon instead, causing the other summoner to gasp a pained cry as the healthier dragon was crushed under the weight of a fist of bees. ”You need to be more careful, kid.” Fletcher put his hand on the younger summoner and channelled a heal spell through him, bringing the summoner’s HP back up and out of the danger zone. ”Being too careless with Salamander is going to cost you your life. Pull him back or you’re a goner; I can’t heal you forever.” Fletcher popped the cork on one of his MP potions and downed the contents. It wasn’t much given the potion itself was a lower levelled one, but it offset the use of the heal spell that he put on Sark almost. It was not the most ideal, but he had a responsibility to keep himself just as healthy, just in case.

He had a trump card as well. He was certain that it was a memory given to him by the Pebble, but the other summoner seemed to not want to play the Operator game and go full on offense. It was fine, for now, Fletcher just had to make sure he had enough MP in order to pull off his contingency if they needed it. These kinds of monsters seemed to keep their big move for when they were on the ropes, similar to when Brachyura rose the oceans upon him. He found himself whispering the words ‘crab nebula’ to himself and provoking a reaction from Syllabus. “Crab Nebula? What’s that?” Fletcher shook his head, closing his eyes and dismissing the question; it’d take too long to explain and he didn’t particularly want to have to do that while dealing with the monster before them. It readied another attack, directed at the Samurai from being in close proximity to it compared to the ranged attackers of the summoned beasts. Given the chance, it would crush the Samurai into the ground and put an end to his flitting about.

Word Count: 987
Sark

[Sark]

Sark could hear a beat in the back of his mind, a tocking that announced the passing of each second. It had first appeared when he had fought the Brachyuru Genius, and had been a critical pacing mechanic he has used to know when his various bonuses would expire. 

Tock

It announced another second gone, with just a measly four seconds remaining of his flame-coated, wind-shooting Ace Move. With that time pressure in his mind, Sark jumped back into battle, ready to fight. He trusted his companion Fletcher unconditionally to keep him safe or warn him if he needed to pull back for the summoner to recover. Their banter had quickly advanced into a case of mutual reliance when they partied, with Sark aiming to generally to be a focus of the monster while the pair of them used their combined salvoes to finish off their enemies.

Within a second the samurai was amongst the swarm, his sword flicking through the mass. Tongues of fire flared through the fog of hornets from the summons, but the swarm was oppressive. Sark's vision narrowed to just a foot or two ahead of him as black bodies danced and sizzled about him. The hornets had been keeping their distance due to his flame cloaked body, when with a final tock it disappeared. 

Praesepe eagerly rushed in, their stingers striking towards his body like a hundred intelligent daggers. The samurai sensed the oncoming danger and spun, his sword vertical and flush against his body. He tried to deflect the largest number from him. The first wave reached him and burst into flame; the shamanic coating that covered his skin still damaging them while they tried to pierce his blue, magical armour. The second wave flashed in, similarly destroying themselves against his barrier. As the last one died Sark felt a prick of pain in  he back of his thigh and looked down. A small drop of blood was pooling there, barely visible behind the red aura that protected him. Sark paused for a fraction.

'The blue barrier's gone! No more easy-mode!' 

He fretted to himself. His mid-swarm location was no longer a boon; it was now a peril. He had been turned about by his many spins, and had no real idea where Fletcher or the two locals stood in relation to anything else. All he could see was thousands of buzzing red shapes, a muted red glow of the central core, and tongues of fire that flashed through the swarm like lightning. Suddenly the swarm rocked as a powerful blast shattered against it, and in the temporary window of falling, burning hornets Sark could see the summoners. A relieved grin jumped to his face, destroying the fear that had just begun to surface. With a whisper "Lightspeed" Denkosetta was activated once again and using that improved speed Sark cleared the swarm. His vision swum as he ran, making the samurai stumble. The leg that had been stung felt hot, leading Sark to the conclusion that the [poison] debuff had been applied.

Fletcher, sensing Sark's need, summoned Carbuncle to his aid. With a grin the samurai turned to greet the little foxy racal to find a sombre looking wolf. It had the same colours as Carbuncle, and the same gem-encrusted forehead, but lacked the spunk or excitement of the other summon. Sark felt a moment of disappointment he would not see a super-levelled version of the pet, but had no time on dwell on unfortunates like that. His MP was quickly restored, but during that moment the swarm attacked again, slamming heavily into the other dragon. 

Sark felt a flash of anger take hold of him; he was the front lines here, not these dragons. The hive's focus on them must mean that they were doing superior damage to him, but were likely not designed to take a beating. He needed to keep the focus on him here. 

"Hey four eyes!" Sark raged, anger flashing in his posture. "Come here you little fly! Ace Move: Samurai Challenge!"

His taunt was complemented by the game's aggro system. As the skill took hold of his body Sark felt himself pose, sword pointed directly at the swarm in a one handed, sideways 'ganta pistol' grip. Denkosekka's golden nimbus continued to arc around him as Sark continued, his stare remaining steady on the core of the hive. Rage still pounded in his veins, disrupting the ticking in his mind. He needed to prove to Praesepe who was who here.

"Ace Move: Flashwave."

The sword flicked a short distance from right to left til the handle rested against Sark's hip. A single hornet was sliced apart with the attack. The trail that the sword took was visible as a broiling mass of elemental wind energy which provided a measly barrier against a foe like that. Sark watched steadily as the hive reared up, condensing itself into a thick fist shape. He dimly heard a cry of rage from Pavi, something about being too slow, but his attention was solely on the hive. Just when the hive reached it maximum density and started to fall below him, Sark nudged the canine-Carbuncle directly him. With his internal metronome gone, Sark has rely on his good fortune that the the flame damage-barrier would hold.

The hive fell, rushing towards the samurai.

"Ace Move: Vaisravana Visage" There was a muted explosion as the hive crashed against him, the hornets scattering about the town square before regrouping with the central mass. As the mass moved away from its direct hit it revealed a shining, 4 foot pillar of light. Sark stood where he was, a mess of bleeding gashes and resembling a pincushion of hornet stingers which remained dark as night against his shining body. Within a second or two many of the wounds closed up as Sark's HP rapidly regenerated. Protected by the eddies of Sark's body, the wolven Carbuncle seemed practically uninjured. That the samurai had ignored its mighty attack further enraged the monster; nothing was worse to a bully than its threats falling upon metaphorically deaf ears. 

The Praesepe hive sent off a small detachment of its hornets to each of the 7 other combatants; reducing its swarm considerably but forcing each individual to contend with a damage drain from the harassment. With that taken care of it focused its ire on the samurai, no longer coated by fire, by blue shields nor red. As the shining light winked out to reveal the dwarf the swarm descended on him. It's goal was to debuff and drain; letting the poison do its work before finishing off the pest that ignored its Final Sting.

Pavi, some distance away from the action, continued to watch the battle. His spirits were ready to aid where needed, but he needed both the time to cast the skill and situation to assist. He had been edging closer and closer to the main group so he could aid further when he saw the hive split into 8 disparate parts, each headed towards a different combatant. One of the new spirits began to excitedly spin about his legs, whispering and beggning Pavi to be used. It was one of the spirits that had appeared when the light of the heroes had touched him, improving his body and his equipment. It was an unknown and mysterious being, but Pavi could sense that it held a tactical mind and great power, so he allowed it to act through him. He made a guttural chant, the words dropping him his lips like beads of metal. The spirit vanished, converted temporarily through Pavi's mana into a shamanic prayer.

His crossbow shone with an arcane light, which Pavi shot at one of the satellite swarms. The bolt split into 8 groups, each homing in a swarm portion and engulfing into a black ball. These impentrable balls then shivered in the air and drew together, merging until there was a floating black ball the size of a man. 

"Quickly!" Pavi shouted, "The spirits tell me the enemy is safe for just four seconds, then will be temporarily disorientated, prepare your attacks!"

HP:96%___MP: 65%

Word Count: 1.3x 1356 = 1762

Pokes: Fletcher OOC: Sark was originally much ruder but I didn't want to offend readers tho'

HP: 70%__MP: 30%

M44: Praesepe Hive

Level 90

Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Darkness, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Poison, Sleep]
Skills:
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Poison Attack: Passive. Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Pestilence: Praesepe sends some of its main fleet to constantly attack an enemy for gradual damage over time. This effect lasts for the duration of the fight.

- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.
- Beehive Cloud: Praesepe changes forms into a larger but thinner cloud. Reduces all enemy melee and ranged damage by 50% but increases its vulnerability to AoE attacks by 50%.
- Hivemind: Praesepe changes forms into a densely-compacted hand-shaped cloud. Drastically increases Praesepe's physical melee damage.
- Final Sting: Praesepe inflicts heavy physical melee damage to one target. Used every 30 seconds. This skill has a casting time of 3 seconds and can be canceled by stun or cast-interrupting effects.


- Mitotic Manifestation: Passive. When under 25% HP, this monster splits into two. Both resulting monsters retain the same HP value.
- Beehive Nebula: Praesepe creates an area of effect indicator with a 10 meter radius around itself. After 5 seconds, anyone within that boundary takes 25% of their total HP in damage. Praesepe starts to use this attack when it reaches 25% of its HP.

Description: "Submit. Surrender. Despair." The Genius of Celestial Pestilence, a hivemind of black hornets that swarm in a formation that resembles a black cloud with a glowing red portion within. It speaks in singular words instead of sentences.

[Fletcher]

This was it; the swarm was about to destroy Sark and his reaction time was just too slow to be able to do anything about it. He braced himself and felt Sark nudge Carbuncle out of the way. Now that was odd; he hadn’t felt the other things that had been effecting his summons, so why now? Fletcher rubbed his side where Sark had shoved Carbuncle out of the way before noticing it. Sark’s HP plummeted and then stopped, before rapidly refilling as if time itself was rewinding on the samurai amidst the swarm of hornets. Whatever had happened, they didn’t like the fact that his survival of their attack meant that the opposing number of people still stood at eight when you include the summoned beasts. Sark’s actions leading up to that desperation attack had secured the swarm’s attention, meaning that for a small window of opportunity the summoners didn’t have to worry about becoming targeted by any attacks.

Or so they thought.

Its next movement was to send out a small section of itself to each of them. Given the proximity, the summoned beasts were hit first and the bars of health associated with them started to slowly drain. Sark’s HP was also draining, but he was tagged with having an active poison effecting him. This was bad, and as the swarm latched onto the two summoners outside the library, Fletcher called back his Salamander. As he did so, each of the swarms became engulfed by a black sphere and a cry called out across the battlefield from the crossbow wielding civilian. He called for attacks, knowing he was on a four second timer. Without a word, Carbuncle was dismissed and replaced with Sylph, who adorned a dress in hues of dark purples, making herself known on the scene. Raising her hands up she let loose a healing breeze that swept through and encircled the party, offsetting only a minor amount of damage that they had suffered, but more importantly curing Sark of his poison.

While he was doing that, Syllabus had taken the courier’s instructions to heart and threw Phoenix and Salamander into the fray, getting them both to compile their own damage over time abilities to the damage being dealt. Sylph ducked out of the way as the fires came roaring in, taking a position behind Pavi and getting ready to cast her healing breeze again as the swarm returned to start draining their health again. This thing was dying fast, and they were almost at that point of when it was going to pull out its big attack. Fletcher’s mind jumped back to Brachyura’s Crab Nebula and shuddered. The prospect of a potential ‘Hornet Nebula’ didn’t sit well with him, although he knew it was coming.

Word Count: 461

[Sark]

Adrenaline began to pump loudly in Pavi's ears. He was not a fighter by nature; indeed when he usually came across a monster when travelling, he would aim to deter it with his bolts or  slow it with the spirit of the Heavenly Laden Brush so that he could escape the situation. But fighting in this way, with no quarters given or taken was exhilarating. It felt dangerous. Under his excitement was a terrible fear of death, but over that was the knowledge he was alive right now, full to the brim with vigor. 

The monster, genius Praesepe, had been temporarily bound within the black ichor of a spirit. They had four seconds to ready themselves, and none of them had spent the time foolishly. The aristocratic summoner had sent his embodiments of fire back into combat, while the older summoner had changed his tactic, taking the downtime to improve his allies. The samurai has rushed in close to the ball, his weapon glowed with the muted charge denoting that he was using the basic 'charged attack' technique common amongst the footsoldiers of the Royal Lune Brigade.

For Pavi, he was focusing not on saving his allies for once, but on improving his own martial prowess. A spirit with a muscular body briefly possessed Pavi after another guttural chant, endowing the messenger with improved upper body strength for stronger attacks. A two headed spirit came next, one head merging with Pavi's while another stretched out until it connected with the Praesepe. It allowed Pavi to strike that particular target faster and more reliably, until he was injured. Those two prayers cost him 2 seconds, meaning he would be a little behind the other's with his contribution. This was a technique taught to him by a fellow marksman, one who relied not on spirits to guide her but her own prowess. 

"Missile Strike."

A set of magic runes began to glow across his crossbow, forming into a set of concentric circles. These would take 3 seconds to callibrate, at which point he would be able to fire into the swarm, where a literal salvo of cloned bolts would fall amongst the swarm.

The last two seconds ticked by, anxiousness building as they waited for the boss to be freed from its impromptu prison. At the designated time the blackness dropped to the ground like a bowl of water suddenly upturned. Everyone released their attacks, and the swarm was blasted by sword, fire, bolt and more. The swarm held for a moment, before a particularly strong gout of flame forced the swarm in two.

Instantly. Pavi felt that something was wrong. Where before only one section of the swarm had that malicious red glow, denoting the difference between the main and satellite swarms, this time both swarms had that red glow.

"Beehive." 

"Nebula."

With those two words magical circles fused themselves into the ground. Each was 20 meters from side to side, with the circles mostly overlapping. Many of the hornets had begun to race about this circumference, building up speed. Each of the 8 fighters were within these circles, which Pavi suspected was a poor choice.

"Everyone, outside the circles; go!"He shouted, flinging an arm to emphasise his point. 

Waiting only long enough to gently grab the arm of the fairy-girl that had appeared beside him, he escaped, ducking under the hail of hornets and passing outside the circle. Once outside he sprung about, placing a pair of basic protections on the two summoners while trusting that the samurai the spirits whispered to would be able to hold himself. Should he not, Pavi had some healing up his sleeve. The fairy girl, who seemed to be another one of the strange non-spiritual summons of the dwarf, was a fellow support fighter like himself. Together they could get this finished off.

---

Sark stood in in front of one the swarms, his sword resting by his side in a casual grip. Much of his loose, easy going personality had been squashed under a rage with this swarm; each time Praesepe spoke in his mind, the tailor got a little angrier at it. A muted red glow burned from his chest, and while the hornets spun about the outside of the circle, the red glow intensified while Sark muttered a skill under his voice. It was the battlefield Nirvana; a stacking buff which increased the attack and defence of the user, until they made an attack. It's particular benefit was that the attack would have almost instant cast time, allowing Sark to react quickly to what was happening. His goal was to prove to Praesepe that no matter what super attack it unleashed, he would not be cowed. This time, he aimed to rely on the Sword of Murakumo technique; a skill which generated a shamanic-type barrier from the blade of the sword and could protect up to two people from upcoming attacks.

HP:96%___MP: 50%

Word Count: 1.3x 819 = 1064

Pokes: Fletcher OOC: Round 3/5 done

HP: 75%__MP: 35%

M44: Praesepe Hive

Level 90

Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Darkness, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Poison, Sleep]
Skills:
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Poison Attack: Passive. Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Pestilence: Praesepe sends some of its main fleet to constantly attack an enemy for gradual damage over time. This effect lasts for the duration of the fight.

- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.
- Beehive Cloud: Praesepe changes forms into a larger but thinner cloud. Reduces all enemy melee and ranged damage by 50% but increases its vulnerability to AoE attacks by 50%.
- Hivemind: Praesepe changes forms into a densely-compacted hand-shaped cloud. Drastically increases Praesepe's physical melee damage.
- Final Sting: Praesepe inflicts heavy physical melee damage to one target. Used every 30 seconds. This skill has a casting time of 3 seconds and can be canceled by stun or cast-interrupting effects.
- Mitotic Manifestation: Passive. When under 25% HP, this monster splits into two. Both resulting monsters retain the same HP value.
- Beehive Nebula: Praesepe creates an area of effect indicator with a 10 meter radius around itself. After 5 seconds, anyone within that boundary takes 25% of their total HP in damage. Praesepe starts to use this attack when it reaches 25% of its HP.

Description: "Submit. Surrender. Despair." The Genius of Celestial Pestilence, a hivemind of black hornets that swarm in a formation that resembles a black cloud with a glowing red portion within. It speaks in singular words instead of sentences.

[Fletcher]

The prison containing the swarm dissolved, bringing the large hive of hornets back into view. Another swath of fire pierced the central mass of the bees and forced them into two, roughly equal size. A voice echoing in his mind called just two words, but it was the fact that it was only two words posed a problem. He was waiting for it, and even expecting it made him no readier for what was to happen. He found himself muttering the same words that called into his mind, a tone of worry in his voice. ”Beehive Nebula…” Fletcher was a little slow on the take and noticed the large circles on the ground as the crossbowman called out to the group. Was this the move, or was it the fact that the boss was now doubled? Fletcher frowned and ducked underneath an incoming wall of bees. Carbuncle and Sylph hopefully would be okay, but if he fell then the summons would be dismissed without them having a chance to save their master. He didn’t like fleeing and leaving them in harm’s way, but there was nothing he could do.

Carbuncle stood by Sark, knowing full well that it was going to be unable to escape from the impending attack in time. The best it could do was throw up a protective barrier on the dwarf so that he was less likely to be munched by the swarm of bees. On the other side of the hornet curtain Sylph was in full agreeance to what Pavi was saying and began readying her healing breeze, holding it until they could see a truer picture of what was happening. Syllabus had stumbled out of the way right behind Fletcher and unfortunately his summoned beasts were also still within the swarm, and soon enough the Lander crumpled to his knees, coughing up blood.

Fletcher frowned, throwing out a heal to stave off death but knew that if Syllabus was responding badly now, whatever Praesepe had done it had finished off Salamander. Phoenix was still alive, and as far as he could tell Carbuncle was as well. If that was the worst of what this boss had in store for them though, then it was time to finish it off. He turned to Syllabus, picking him up and roughly throwing him forward and making him stand. ”Call back Salamander and call on the elements. We’re going to fry this thing; it’s gone on for long enough.” Syllabus was hurt bad but nodded, submitting to the whims of the superior summoner and putting their survival into his command. Doing as Fletcher had done before, he called upon the elements and started harvesting the fire magics that encircled the area. Salamander was brought back and the dragon too, joined the fray.

A soothing wind blew across the battlefield and started patching up the minor wounds across the injuries that the party had sustained. It wasn’t enough to bring them up to full by a long shot, but it was a nice addition to their regular rate of health regeneration. Fletcher called back Carbuncle needing to focus on building the elemental charges for Syllabus to unleash salvoes of supercharged Elemental Bolts, and now that there were two of them, the splash damage was going to end this quite quickly. With the three fire elemental summons pelting the two swarms with attacks and raining fire down on the battlefield, the countdown until the end of the battle. The first explosion rocketed from Syllabus’s staff and impacted on one of the swarms, the fire spreading over the reduced space that the swarm was now taking up and impacting on the second swarm only partially. All three of the fire based summoned creatures were targeting the same enemy, it’s health draining to the point where there was nothing left of it; nothing more than a mound of charred insect husks.

That left one left, and that was the one that Sark was engaging. If they needed it, Elemental Festival just came off cooldown for Fletcher, so he could join in on the firestorm if they needed it as well.

Word Count: 688
Sark

[Sark]

The Beehive Nebula attack triggered. The hornets which had been rapidly circling the circumference of the circle shone a bright, murderous red while the glow at the core of each swarm blinked out. The core of the swarm rapidly expanded while the outer edge rapidly shrank, making a vice that would be impossible to dodge. But Sark didn't move; the red glow that emanated from his own chest travelled down his arm into his blade, which was swung about him and Carbuncle in a single  slash from right shoulder to left hip. The trail that the blade took mirrored that red glow, which expanded outwards to form a small semi-hemisphere of magical runes. The barrier held against the initial crush of hornets from both sides. Sark stood by, safe with Carbuncle inside the dome and felt a moment of smugness. 

'Take that you arrogant, demanding genius.' He thought spitefully.

Praesepe must have sensed Sark's mood as the attack doubled in its intensity. A storm of hornets began to pelt against the magical runes, more and more of them pressing up against its walls. A rune winked out in a location, and then another. Like an avalanche the runes disappeared down one slope of the dome and the insects rushed in just as the duration of their technique ended. If it wasn't for Carbuncle's own barrier, the Lune wolf and cub would have been damaged for sure. The attack ended, the hornets returning to their duplicated swarms. The summoners had chosen to focus their energy on a single swarm, so Sark took the hint and engaged the other. It would allow the fire-based mana users to fight safely, knowing that there would be no second swarm to watch out for.

While the older carbuncle faded Sark rushed to engage the swarm. He could sense that many of his trump cards had already been used, and the trembling in his arms confirmed that his own mana was running low. He would have to stick to less advanced techniques for now.

"You jerk, we'll finish you! Ace Move: Samurai Challenge!" 

As before the sword swept out, dramatically pointing towards the Praesepe hive in a one handed posture. It ensured that the swarm would keep Sark as its focus, rather than sending off additional attacks at the others. Knowing that its target was a physical based class the swarm dissolved into a looser cloud, making physical attacks even less effective than usual. Seeing this advancement, Sark swore with the dirtiest words he knew; the hive was playing intelligently, and its ongoing whispered commands were whipping Sark into a greater and greater rage. 

"You want to play like that then you fool, I'll bring you all to me! Ace Move: Whirlpool Spin!"

His hefty sword was lifted overhead, and with a two handed motion he began to spin it around. Swirls of [wind] mana amplified the suction of the technique, drawing the swarm closer. The hornets swirled about Sark, lost in the winds in a mimicry of their recent attack. When Sark judged the time right he quickly adjusted his grip. His shoulders began to cramp at the sudden motions, but Sark forced them to relax. He knew he was pushing his body to its boundaries, but in his rage he did not care for the consequences. 

"Ace Move: Swallow Reverse!"

His sword began to flash down towards the ring of swirling hornets, and at the same time a spectral duplicate appeared at Sark's waist slashing upwards. The two blade connected like a pair of scissors, cutting the through the ring with the sound of gristle being torn apart. The swarm scattered, a ghost of its former self. The duplicate blade winked out, and Sark let his blade drop, his breath coming out in gasps. His mind was beginning to fuzz, and he was finding it hard to focus. He looked about, hoping for some aid from a companion, and lifted an arm towards the messenger and pixie. The former man shrugged, indicating that while he can help with many things, this situation was not in his forte. The latter raised her arms, sending a healing wind across the field. Sark's mind cleared a little, giving him time to appreciate her form. She was about his size, and if you ignored the wings she looked rather like someone Sark would like to get to know.

He shook his head; the fairy was clearly an immortal summon, not a person. The fact that she had a delightful smile and cheeky eyes was irrelevant, especially in the middle of combat. Arms aching from the sustained fight, Sark hefted his weapon onto his shoulder and got back into the fight. With no MP to call upon, he was stuck holding down the fort with basic attacks until a companion could deliver a decisive blow. 

HP:96%___MP: 50%

Word Count: 1.3x 806 = 1047

Pokes: Fletcher OOC: Round 4/5 done

HP: 75%__MP: 1%

M44: Praesepe Hive

Level 90

Type: Insect, Genius, Traveler
Rank: Field Boss
Nature: Aggressive, Sentient [Non-Tameable]
Found in: Lune Seaport - Blue District (Fountain of Fate), Celestial Arms Questline II
Weakness/Resistances: Weak [Fire], Resist [Physical, Darkness, Poison, Slow, Mind], Null [Poison, Sleep]
Skills:
- Divine Barrier: All combatants in the thread may only move a maximum distance of 20 meters from this monster while it is alive.
- Poison Attack: Passive. Targets who are attacked by this monster have a 25% chance of taking minor damage over time for 10 seconds.
- Pestilence: Praesepe sends some of its main fleet to constantly attack an enemy for gradual damage over time. This effect lasts for the duration of the fight.

- Sting: An attack with the monster's fang, injecting venom into the target and doubling the effects of any poison effect for 30 seconds.
- Flight: The monster flies up high in the air, rendering most melee attacks ineffective.
- Sky Dive: The monster swoops down to quickly attack the target before attempting to take flight.
- Beehive Cloud: Praesepe changes forms into a larger but thinner cloud. Reduces all enemy melee and ranged damage by 50% but increases its vulnerability to AoE attacks by 50%.
- Hivemind: Praesepe changes forms into a densely-compacted hand-shaped cloud. Drastically increases Praesepe's physical melee damage.
- Final Sting: Praesepe inflicts heavy physical melee damage to one target. Used every 30 seconds. This skill has a casting time of 3 seconds and can be canceled by stun or cast-interrupting effects.
- Mitotic Manifestation: Passive. When under 25% HP, this monster splits into two. Both resulting monsters retain the same HP value.
- Beehive Nebula: Praesepe creates an area of effect indicator with a 10 meter radius around itself. After 5 seconds, anyone within that boundary takes 25% of their total HP in damage. Praesepe starts to use this attack when it reaches 25% of its HP.

Description: "Submit. Surrender. Despair." The Genius of Celestial Pestilence, a hivemind of black hornets that swarm in a formation that resembles a black cloud with a glowing red portion within. It speaks in singular words instead of sentences.

[Fletcher]

As his attention was turned to Sark, he noticed that the swarm that he was fighting was on its last legs as well. He must’ve been going all out in order to deal enough damage to keep up, although the area of effect blasts were surely helping. This was it, the final clash and this thing was over and the future was changed. At least that’s what he was led to believe. Syllabus’s Elemental Festival wore off before he could get the final shot off; but he collapsed all the same. His health was in the single digits, but it wasn’t zero and that was all that mattered.

Sylph looked to the dwarf injured and battered from fighting the swarm and clasped her hands together delicately, chanting a healing prayer softly under her breath, a more focused healing wind enveloping Sark and bringing his HP back up in a fashion similar to a hastened HP regeneration. He wore a warm smile, but her MP was also draining from having thrown out a few high tiered spells evenly distributed across every member of their party. He made to move forward but stopped herself from stepping out from the shaman that was also assisting the party, taking his lead on where the supportive cast were to stand.

Fletcher clutched his Pebble of Philosophy tightly in his hand, eyes closed and hearing the flames roar around them. They were dying down but they were still there, adding intensity to a fight that was almost over. The heat was getting to him though, and his brow along with his clothes were patchy with sweat. It felt gross, but fighting spawn from alternate dimensions and timelines wasn’t going to simply be the cleanest job he’d ever done. He popped the cork on another MP potion, giving him just enough to pull off what he wanted to do. If Syllabus was unable to take the final shot, and Sark was out of MP to do so either, then the task fell to him. Speaking just barely above a whisper and opening his eyes, looking skyward to the flaming bird, he took control of the summon from Syllabus, adding to the strain on his own MP, but it wouldn’t be for long. ”Harken ye, oh bird of valorous victory; shed thy plumage in a splendorous rain of renewing flames. ” The words came out as if reciting from an ancient script, slightly hesitant and coming as he recalled each word in sequence from an event yet to happen.

Phoenix turned to Fletcher and shot him a look, unspeaking, unwavering, before turning back to the swarm and crying out to the heavens. A prismatic aura shone from the feathers of the fire bird, crimson down coating the ground and the members of the party and patching their wounds up further and much more effectively than Sylph had been managing to do. Then, with a renewed coat of feathers, it dived head first into the swarm of bees and exploded into another inferno, taking the swarm with it. It was done, it was over, and they had won; but at what cost? While they were originally sent here to prevent an event from occurring, one look at the town and how it stood made Fletcher doubt that the event that they were meaning to stop wasn’t just the swarm of bees, but rather how the swarm had been dealt with. The sound of buildings collapsing in on themselves were the main thing Fletcher could hear over the sound of fire, but it wasn’t the only one. Rubble being shifted was the other, and it was nearby, possibly someone coming to dig them out of this self forming arena in which they had fought in.

Syllabus was laying on the ground, breathing heavy. The dwarf knelt down and cast the Heal spell a few more times over him just to bring him up from the red but left him like that for the time being. He just didn’t have the MP to spare given they were now not being attacked; the kid would be fine given enough time. Fletcher stumbled down the stairs to the fountain to meet up with Sark, looking to Sylph and nodding at her. ”How you holding up, Sark?” The older dwarf placed a hand on the younger and looked around again. The sounds of people coming to their rescue became louder as the rubble blocking off exits down any of the side alleys began to shift. ”Looks like help has arrived, too. Remind me to buy you a drink when we get home; you were stellar.”

Word Count: 771
Sark

[Sark]

Sark moved sluggishly, his arms wooden as he strained to block and parry the incoming hornets. The swarm itself seemed exhausted; even its slow banter had stopped. Rage still filled Sark, but with the silence of Praesepe, that too was started to droop.

A gentle wind rustled his curly locks and cooled his sweat-stained back. It carried with it scents of the refreshing ocean and calming herbs, generating a significantly increased health recovery. His muscles loosened, letting the dwarf stand a little straighter and react a little faster. This wind seemed much more potent than before; perhaps the pixie had wanted to give Sark a special something? A second wind followed the first, though this was hot and dry like the air of an oven. Delicate red feathers followed the wind, landing on Sark and melting into him. These filled him with vigor and hope, clearing the rage from his system. From experience he had in the German server, he knew that this was the first stage of the phoenix's ultimate attack. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder, confirming that the flaming avian was building up height to dive.

Technically, Sark knew that the game did not support friendly fire. In this new mixed reality, he had learned that exactly what was considered friendly fire, and what wasn't, was a grey area. Not wanting to risk being roasted alive the samurai looked about the town square. Much of it was rubble now, buildings spilling their walls onto the square, while other areas had leaking pipes or holes leading to underground tunnels. The only area truly clear of the devastation was where the summoners had remained, no doubt in part due to their creatures not wanting to risk their owners. Sark quit the battlefield, spurring his limbs to move faster and navigate the square before the phoenix attacked. Seconds behind him the phoenix dove, smashing headfirst into the swarm and detonating itself. Another explosion rocked the ground, sending Sark sprawling across the loose brickwork. Looking back, in the flaming remains, he saw a textbox appear.

V_I_C_T_O_R_Y_!

A small scattering of coloured paper confetti fell from the sky, which was quickly consumed by the flames. Sark hauled himself up and padded over to the pair of summoners, the younger of whom seemed in poor shape, while Fletcher looked as bad as Sark felt. Fletcher praised Sark for his efforts, making the younger dwarf's body glow with pride. He felt like he'd worked hard, and while he had not been the primary source of damage, together they had adjusted and worked out a plan. Sark beamed a tired smile to his companion, promising that they would have to take that promised drink when they got back to Londinum.

Pavi and the Sylph joined them a minute later admist the noise of other denizens exploring their new, damaged city. The samurai took a moment to thank Pavi, shaking his head and staring deeply into the man's eyes to show his sincerity. While the messenger had not been the most active participant, he had given the group the confidence to attack, knowing that damage interception was there to protect them. Next was Sylph, who floated a few inches off the ground. Sark felt suddenly quite conscious of his dirty and battered attire. He hadn't had much experience with thanking females; he knew in films that their hands were kissed, but he was also a modern child and didn't hold with the old gender stereotyping. Despite that, he was too inexperience to treat her just like anyone else. With eyes shifting everywhere but her, he stammered out his thanks.

The lameness flushed through him, so he tried to salvage the situation. With a force of will be put on his best, suave voice. He supplemented this with a cocked a single eyebrow and used both hands to point at her with mimed guns.

"Eyyy. Is your name sugar? Because baby, you look sweet." There was silence for a second. Sark blinked once, and realised what he had just said.

"FLETCHER. Fletcher desummon now! Oh geeze DO IT NOW!"

HP: 100%_MP: 55%

Word Count: 1.3x 684 = 889

Pokes: Fletcher DONE

HP: 95%__MP: 2%