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I'll take all of your women....and your Mythril. (Mines of Sern -- Class III Quest)

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Bull's got a new Hammer. Oh it's an awesome thing, he'd assure you. Not more then a sparse few days of having it in his possession and you couldn't count how many things he has smitten with it. Worse still, how many times he's threatened to SMITE someone with it, sometimes in a Norse accent for no apparent reason. Where it came from? Who knows, but ever since that time he was thrown through a dimensional rift and landed in Asgard---Meeting the great Thor himself.

He's wanted one. That was a ways ago. Since returning to these realms, he hasn't quite recovered the entirety of his power (MP-Bull), and wouldn't fair nearly as well as he did against the Thunder god were he had to face that trial now. He will return to glory by walking the path set before him. Just as he found his NEW self during his imprisonment within the Pillar Realms, he will do so again, and this little project of completing his hammer for Maximum Whack-a-Fool Goodness was just the thing he needed. It took him a day to get here, he chose not to jump but rather trecked it out.

Many climbs. Many elevations. A few falls, a couple of scuffles and he was staring at a vast, brilliant door which serves as the entrance to MINES OF SERN.


So the information was legit, and it would be in this place that a sect of Mutant-Dark Elves, practitioners of Dark Magic, and perverted sciences. They had developed a new "Strain" of Mythril that was essential to his weapons progression. Only thing that stood in his way was that legend had it, that these "Elves" were tools. Bad businessmen and even WORSE as traders. Proteus Aspired for not having to use violence but sometimes, you have to shit what it was. Still, Wasn't anything wrong with giving things the old college try.

The titan approached the door which had a large body of water at his rear. This caught Proteus' attention, briefly. It smelled--Odd. With his attention back at the door. As he was instructed by his source, he'd call out. "I am KING Proteus Rauz, i've come seeking to barter or purchase Mythril from you!...May I be granted Entrance!"


There was a silence.

Birds could be heard.

Bugs of the sort as well.

Quiet enough to hear a Rat Piss on cotton almost.

Then before him, at the doors top. An eye opened and from it's center a beam of light which constructed a construct. The construct was a tall individual, lithe, every bit of 6'4" in height, a male, but his features were slightly twisted. Around his eyes were blackened as were the tips of his pointed ears. Slender fingers had claws at their tips.



"We've heard of you King.....All the more reason why we will MOST CERTAINLY NOT be allowing you here. BRUTE!"


Bull kissed his teeth some, and drew a heavy breath and at it's release interjected, "Times have changed...I, have changed. I assure you I am not here with ill intent.."


And Bull was cut off "And we do not care! Now remove your FILTH from our domain, lest you be dealt with!! You've NOTHING of interest to us!"


Insults. Proteus' arms crossed and his index finger tapped bicep furiously. He was struggling to keep his composure in the face of a total tool. He firmly rhetorted. "2-Million Gold. For a kings share of your new Mythril.".......He brandished a large travel bag, indeed filled with the quantified equal of 2 million gold in the form of massive bricks.



There was that silence again.

Those birds.

Those bugs..

That cotton pissing rat again.

The construct seemed to had been mulling it over. See Elves were alot like common man. They were creatures of habit, they could be swayed. They were businessmen and at the end of the day money talked. But the problem?...Again, they were like common man. They believed themselves to be cunning. They were trifling. Greedy. Uncaring.

Beneath the water, a monster had been given incentive. It's massive tentacles spreading and churning beneath the water, which would have rippled and surged as it approached, and out of the water one of these LARGE appendages shot out of the water at pace and COILED around the Titans' waist, who was honestly--surprised! All that the king could see was the constructs twisted grin, "WE WILL TAKE YOUR GOLD, AND YOUR LIFE!....."


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As sturdy was BULL is, in this creatures grasp he was a paper weight. He could feel it, all of the muscles within this ONE tendril, coiled and constricted against his body in a wicked vice. How easily he was lifted off of his feet and brought up and over before his head was slammed into the sheer face of a rock formation---several times.  Pain was the first sensation, mixed in with the feeling of being off balance and weightlessness before there was nothing but water. It wasn't until the creature pulled him down into the depths did he get a full appreciation for exactly how big it was. Bull's eyes frantically searched his surroundings. The color of the water around him---Black. He was deep enough for lights reach to diminish here.

He was in motion. Traveling downward, toward what he believed was the creature itself. Already it could be assumed that it had size in abundance. To be able to reach up and out of the waters at these depths..quite a distance, quite a feat, this had to be quite the creature.


The sheer size was staggering. Awe inspiring, something this large. Bull's struggles paused to give weigh to rationalization. He didn't face the possibility of drowning---Bull didn't require air. Still having his lungs filled with water or worse being stuck down here with this thing was counter-productive and not a desired result. Actions had to be taken and taken immediately. The creature brought him to eye level, examining The King as if to gauge whether it was worth it's time. And  the king would have raised his hand and flipped it the bird----You'd think that it UNDERSTOOD. The way it reacted.

Swinging the Titan king around and slamming him into the ground, kicking up a massive plume of soot and debris before dragging him along it's jagged, rocky bottom before continuing the act again against another, area, and again, and again. When it raised him again to it's eye level, Proteus ragged. His garments had been shredded and badly damaged. Bull himself had been dazed and his focus and consciousness wavered......

He was on the losing end...



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The creature began to squeeze. Hard....



"Delyre has had him under water for several minutes now but hasn't dispatched him as of yet. He's waiting for the King to drown as to not risk swallowing live prey but...something seems off..."

Around the time that was being said elsewhere, Bull had come to the same conclusion. The Squeezing. It was pressure. Immense discomfort that was starting to borderline on painful. It wasn't nearly as bad as being slammed and spiked into every hard surface present here. -So that's how he does it. He beats his prey unconscious, forces them to drown then swallows them down..-

Was Bull actually "THINKING?". Surprises all the way around today. The squeezing was a pause that he needed. A moment when the creature was so focused on that task it gave him a moment of respite, to strike back. At a severe disadvantage with no ground to stand on so to speak, freedom was a necessity. A single brand on his arm had flared to life and he'd have smiled wide while those eyes of his became wildly alight with electromagnetic anima. His hand was raised, trace arcs of electricity between his fingers before slamming hand down on the appendage that held him and letting loose with a Titanic amount of voltage--and more important amperage. The creatures reaction to being electrocuted in this fashion was as expected--better then expected.

Seeing that the Titan can't be easily drowned if not at all, and that he can electrocute it the Creature, like and predator in the same position finds itself discouraged and unwilling to obey the commands of it's handler, and the King after a swim to the top pulls himself out of the dark waters and back out onto the ground where he again had audience with the Dark Elf who was singing a bit of a different song.


"Taurus King, I-I assure you all was done in jest, surely you're in great enough spirits to not take such a gesture umm--personally?"

Rising to his full height and exhaling in frustration. The kings mane of wild hair and even wilder beard was soaked, and piercing eyes still dancing lightly with electricity stared at the energy construct. "What was it you called me earlier? BRUTE right?...So yea, don't count on much kindness from my spirit, I'll show myself in.." The Construct growled in fury and dissappeared and Bull's gaze turned to the shiny glowing door.

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"My lord, the brute has defeated the Loch monster we kept there. What should we do?" 

Why am I always surrounded by such incompetence? Thought the figure sitting upon the stone throne in the depths of the mine. Darkness shrouded him except for his hands, which looked gnarled and twisted. If it was not one trifle, then it was another, a seemingly endless horde of incompetence that he must clean up. Overgrown claws clacked upon the stone in a steady rhythm, his thoughts concentrating on how best to defeat such a menace.

"Open the doors for our fine guest...we shall greet him" he wheezed "with our unfortunate brothers. Make certain the Silent Screechers are ready, and when you release them...be sure the inner chambers are sealed, for all our sakes."

Mutations had come at a cost, this much he knew, and so did the Screechers down in the vaults. They were twisted things, who only had a base intelligence needed to function as weapons. No longer could they speak, only to eternally scream in such high pitched frequency that it appeared they're quiet, but it was clear from how many they had killed that it was not as non lethal as was first believed. It was an acceptable loss though, especially now when they would be needed to expunge this interloper

Before Proteus would have the chance to break through the stone wall, it would split apart and swing open for him. With his path into the mines now open, the darkness would beckon to him, with doom just around the corner. 

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So they opened the doors, perhaps to not run the risk of losing their fortifications---and perhaps confident of their interior means of countering intruders. IN either case Proteus, disgruntled as hell, would proceed forward and into the mines. His eyes began to scrutinize every single aspect of this mines interior design. It was a mine city, taken over by Dark Elves from the previous owners who were Dwarves. These dwarves not only mined these lands but also forged great weapons from the outstanding materials they found here. Unfortunately they lacked the technological superiority of the Dark Elves, who twisted their prominent mysticism with their sciences to great effect. As the new tenants of the lands, they continue the legacy of mining and forging here----Creating new, spectacular and rare materials as a result. Hence his need for the Mythril they have here.

This place's history was still present here, even now he walked not just on cobbled ground and earth but the bones and skulls of fallen Dwarves. He'd stop and kneel down, taking the skull of a Cave Troll into his palm and examining it thoroughly. On it's top side, where the skull is at it's thinnest was a gouging mark where apparently an Axe or some weapon had made it's entry and Proteus' smile could be seen through the thick, burly beard he sported. "Good show....Good show..." praising the dwarven warrior that had apparently scored the kill here. The skull was placed back down and Bull's trek further into the darkness continued.

This place had no light----And it didn't matter, Proteus' senses acclimated taking what light that was available from the doors that were still open and granting him greater perception then most in this situation. No longer wishing to wade in silence in darkness , his voice sounded out "I'LL GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE....I WISH TO GIVE GOLD FOR YOUR MYTHRIL...I'D RATHER NOT HAVE CONFLICT DESPITE YOU SENDING THAT CREATURE TO TRY AND KILL ME..."

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Silence was all that would greet the titan as he made his way through the mines. They were a dizzying maze of cut rock and ghosts. Allthat could be heard were own footsteps, and the unsettling sound of a high pitched noise.

It would not be long before the sound grew higher, more intense as it bounced off the walls of the mine. Seconds passed, and the noise would become so great that Bull's ear drums would feel its assault. The Silent Screechers were getting closer, their howls a maddening sound which would shatter lesser men. From his right, a dagger sailed straight for his knee, from his left an arrow aimed for his neck.

They came at a dizzying speed, their bodies never making a sound, except for the clatter of their weapons and the high frequency screams escaping their permanently disfigured mouths. Wearing all leather armor, their eyes were covered, for they had gone blind from their mutations. Attacks would seem to come from all sides, as the small group of elves knew the tunnels well, using echo location to navigate the inky darkness. Though only four in strength, they had taken down interlopers four times their numbers, for they knew the darkness like a child knows their parent.

Silently he watched, biding his time to study this creature and see how he responded to the threat before him. Proteus would likely never have a chance to discover the magical wards put in place to survey their creator's holdings. He was unmatched amongst the dark elves in both the ways of magic and of ruthless cunning. If this one wished to rob the dark elves of their mithril, he would have to work hard indeed for it.

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Effective. Proteus' senses were superb---right now they were a liability. The hypersonic incursion was hell on his ears and downright painful. At one point he could tolerate it, wincing some and gritting his teeth all the way up to the point where his hands were sent over his ears in an attempt to stave it off. Nor was he still or calm about it, dropping down to one knee, ears clasped and cursing audibly under his breath. The manuver may have spared him the full effectiveness of the intended offensive. The arrow would have sailed over his head, and one intended for his knee would skirt the fore-arm guard on his right arm which was being held up to his ears in this lowered stance. 

At that point he realizes he's being attacked. If he had the time to give them credit, he'd have done so. The pitched noise currently debilitating his equilibrium made it hard to stand or even focus. His senses were adaptive, like predatory animals he had low-light hypersensitivity but for total darkness he had something different altogether. Ocular-esque organs in his body, functioned like high level electro-receptors enabling him to literally view the bio-static field of a living creature. The bio-Feed back of a nervous system so to speak, it lit things up in total darkness. Two swings of his head and he could at least see his assailants. ---Still he was hindered from physically doing something about it at the moment.

This called for a firm directive of an "Eye for an Eye" so to speak. Do unto others as they would do to you. A single seal would have 1flared to life on his persons while he remained down on one knee, covering his ears for the duration of the imminent event that was soon to come.

1-Spell of Force -- Prepping for use --Going Active-- 1 x Turn.


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With the failure of the first barrage of their attack, the Silent Screechers would press on without relenting. Their prey was effected by their power, though he did not die like all the others had before him. This was good, for it meant better sport for the twisted dark elves, who would relish the chance to inflict as much pain upon him as they could.

High frequency screams would continue to pour out of their deformed lips. Even if they wished to close their mouths, they had lost the physical capability to do so long ago, their master had seen to that. Such is the cruelty that the Master held within him in regards to how he treated his subjects.

More arrows would sail towards the king, two from the right and two from the left. They were clearly aimed for the head, either to take a chunk of nose or to pierce his cheeks. Such targets would not kill, but they provided good entertainment for the abominations who were attacking Bull at this intersection. If Bull proved too hard to make scream or too difficult to hit, then they would grow bored of playing with him and truly mean to kill him.  For now they would play their games, letting loose another volley in an attempt to remove the fingers of their prey.

Even from the sealed rooms of the inner mine, the Master could smell the putrid stench of Proteus. It was the smell of outsider, of the world of men, and other disgusting odors he did not know. When his pets had done their job, he would make sure to have the body burned and his tunnels scoured of all traces of him. No one would ever know that such a pathetic creature had ever defiled his domain with his wretched footsteps.

Of course there was always the chance that not only the Screechers, but his other pitfalls could fail as well. Adventuring fools had an infuriating habit of surviving everything thrown at them, which is why the dark elf felt such nervousness coursing through him. He would not be taken down by such a brute, he had simply come too far in this world to be stopped now. So in accordance with his paranoid instincts, the Master would prepare the final obstacle himself.

At his command, the shadows around him would begin to ebb and wane, concentrating into his outstretched, gnarled hand. Time would be needed to perfect the weapon he had in mind, but the Master was both cunning and ruthless. If time was what he needed, then he would sacrifice all of his followers to obtain it, so long as the mithril stayed in his possession. 

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The air around him became wildly invigorated. Pure, prominent and copious amounts of sheer force was being isolated and built up from around his being at the behest of the Rune Branding going active on his body. It was a calculated move to contain and wait. Draw them closer. Give them a false sense of security and advantage. This wasn't Proteus' first Rodeo and rest assured, it wouldn't be his last. Not at the hands of these ragged, shabby things. Not this day---today they will be the first to witness, albeit only a modest display of King Proteus' defiance to the would judgement of death cast down upon him by the powers that be.

He'd stand and part his arms, unfortunately having to take the full brunt of that horrid scream full on if only for a moment. That wild torrent of force centralizing now at the center of those massive palms that came together 1forcefully. The result? A paramount of event of rolling and roaring concussive force that spreads out in every single direction, the likes of which were comparable twice over to the forces created by a MOAB going off (Minus the Heat obviously, allowing more emphasis on the hypersonic shockwave and sheer pressure). His inability to fine tune, or suppress the effort---As not to risk bringing down the entire mine itself, were due to the conditions of duress created by the sounds ripping through his ears. 

Those arrows? Were turned to DUST in the wake of the sheer intensity of the forces that met them en-route to the individuals that sent them, who'd find their sonic punishment drowned out by something simply---MORE. For the sake of simple description and statement, all hell literally had broken loose. The usage of the "Force" spell in combination with his own titanic strength would set-loose within these mines, perhaps, one of the most stellar events to transpire since the one that lead to the demise of the dwarves that once occupied these lands. These "Screechers" not faced a hypersonic-Concussive wave that could shatter stone and twist metal, ontop of the sheer difference in pressure being created--from air being forced out and away from the epicenter, their bodies would be crushed, twisted if not outright atomized in the presence of such a ferocious force.

Worse still, the Mines themselves would shudder. Air can reach into places most objects cannot. Stress fractures, cracks, and outright gouges would span the entirety of the construct, even within the throne room of Elven leader, secure within his place, dust would fall from the ceilings and walls where cracks were forming in response to such a power being unleashed. He would hear the groans of the metal doors that sealed him away from would be threats as air passed beneath it and at it's sides. At his actions end, Proteus would remain. The mass of cape around him finally falling to rest around his shoulders and the ground and he stared intently at the aftermath of his work----Force Symbol, still alight.

1-Spell of Force -- Used --1 - Turn of Prep. Remains active after use, Recharging.


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In a storm of power and shattered stones, the Silent Screechers were broken against the walls. Their misery was finally put to an end by the brutal strength of the titan. The second of the obstacles have been vanquished, but what else could be lurking within the tunnels of the mithril mine?

Rage was consuming the Master, his hand slowly sweeping off the sediment from his shoulder. It was clear that trying to overpower this brute would not be possible. However, there were always other means of defeating an enemy, without ever laying a finger upon them. Proteus wished to explore his tunnels for the minerals within, and so he would get a journey that he would never forget.

As his final spell was still shaping itself in the darkness, he would order his other magi to perform the task. If the fool did not lose his sanity from this, then he will die of exhaustion no doubt, a fitting end for such an oafish little brute.

Bull would once again begin to make his way through the tunnels of the mine. Winding tunnels, stairs that would begin to dip downwards, then go upwards, spiraling, cornered with landings, but no doors or entrances. No matter how hard that Bull would try to make his way through the tunnels, the paths would always look the same. It appeared as if the tunnels would never end...

And they would never end, as long as the Master was concerned. His magi were already weaving the enchantments, making it appear as if Bull was making progress, but in truth he was walking in circles. Illusion magic was a powerful craft, especially when you had no idea you were under its spell. He would wear him out, then when he was weakened, the Master would make sure to cut hid throat himself.

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There was some, iota of success to the ploy. Bull had in-fact started moving again, but not for long. No, not for any duration near what they intended. If the goal was to get him to aimlessly wander around and around and around until he exhausted himself---That was foolish. The main issue at hand was that the individual in charge constantly underestimated Proteus at every turn. He perceived him as some kind of "Oaf" when in truth, Proteus was anything but. Proteus wasn't the most prolific thinker, but he compensated for this with raw natural talent. Namely an affinity, and sensitivity to mysticism itself. He also possessed enough common sense to weave things together, enough comprehension for 1+1 to equal 2. See, this illusion focused on casting a farce based on perception, while it's users overlooked the method---flooding these mines with mysticism. It was a sensation that wasn't present before. Now, it surrounded him. It moved around him like waves and further still it all flowed from one direction, outward toward him. 

Maybe the Elven leader hadn't seen it---That moment when Proteus caught onto it. When his eyes flickered out of sheer aggravation which gave weigh to calm. "INSULTING......" Without further hesitation another rune brand set flared to 2life. Proteus himself stood at full attention and crossed his arms while staring intensely FORWARD at the direction of the source. The source of what?? This energy that ensconced every single inch of the Mines. This mysticism that flowed in a controlled manner, layering his surroundings and seeking to replicate them to the effect of directing him within an infinity maze of sort. No. Instead, whatever the Magi provided---Bull Took. 

An inflow. His body greedily fed on it. Adding it's contents to his own, causing the entirety of the network of brands on his body to glow, and soon create an aura of mysticism that permeated his very being. So long as the Magi continued to weave this spell, he would FEED on it and grow increasingly MORE dangerous to the Leader whom will soon regret NOT taking the Kings original offer.


1-Spell of Force - Recharging - 1 x Turn prep

             2-Spell of Absorption - Proteus is currently Absorbing the mysticism being used to shape the illusion. 1-Turn Of Absorption = 1.5 x increase on all physical states per turn active.

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"My lord...the magi report their spells are being sapped by the intruder. They cannot keep holding it for long if he continues to drain their magic." The Master would have to deal with their incompetence later, for now it would be important to regroup and try something different. 

"Collapse the tunnels leading into the inner mines. This one has no need to breath, but we can still use the environment to our advantage." His weapon needed more time, so much more time, his mind was constantly racing for a solution to this issue. "Have them cease the spells so they can assist in bringing down the tunnels. After that we will head into the next phase of our defense."

"What if they get trapped in there with that beast?"

"Then they will pay for their foolishness. If we do not stop this creature, then we will all die, understood?" Whether by the hand of Proteus or by his own, no one would leave this place alive if he had anything to say about it. "We must make every effort to stop him, so get moving!"

As the illusion ended, the dark elves moved quickly about their mission. Stolen dwarven explosives were placed within the tunnels, runes of destruction placed on the ones they did not have the tools to bring down. Sweat coated many a forehead as they worked quickly, their ears trained for any footsteps coming their way. The Master would attempt to buy them time by engaging in conversation.

A booming voice sounded in the tunnels during their attempts at rigging the tunnels. It was the Master himself, speaking in a ragged, husky voice that spoke of an ancient age long ago. "King Proteus...it seems you are not one for being so easily defeated..." he wheezed "perhaps we can work out an arrangement..."

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Proteus' began walking again, and continued to absorb the energies (Should they continue to be provided) being used in an attempt to cast an illusion. Skimmed as they are, it made it very easy to sense from which direction did things originate and so, ironically, his navigation through the mines would become increasingly MORE accurate. His pace was gradual. Intentionally un-rushed. Each footfall was an audible  advertisement of his dimensions and mass on purpose to incite nervousness within anything or anyone within the confines of this maze seeking to do him harm or impede his progress.

And then, the voice sounded off..and Proteus would have grinned wide at the inquiry..

"I must be making some progress, not to long ago I was simply a "BRUTE" and here now you finally address me as KING.." The illusion had ended, and the energy flow that had been providing him direction slowly receded but by now he'd have keened in on exactly where the leader was. His senses were also catching signs of movement, those electro-receptors, keying in on the bio-static fields of the little fucks skittering about the tunnels under orders. His interest had been piqued, "What kind of arrangement could you possibly have in mind, when you're already setting other obstacles in motion? You dark elves, you're a deceitful bunch. I came here to purchase materials from you as any consumer, materials YOU and your kind have killed others to obtain,  and you greet me with malice and attempts on my life. WHY, Elven King, should I spare you from inevitable death? Because you've realized that You can't stop me?"

1-Spell of Force - Recharging - (Currently) 2 x Turn prep

 2-Spell of Absorption - Proteus has spent 1 turn absorbing Spell will deactivate after this turn. 1-Turn Of Absorption = 1.5 x increase on all physical states per turn active.


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"The dwarves had no imagination...I knew I could do so much more with it...you can see how effective that has been by now..." The Master knew very well how his work had attracted the attention of so many. Adventurers from all over have come to die by his hand, their bodies a valuable resource in his experiments. This one would be no different, he just needed to find the right catspaw to end him.

When they had reported their jobs successful, The Master ordered them to fall back and once out of the way of the blast site to activate the explosives. Stockades would rock the mines once more, and The Master would smile a wicked little grin. "You know us well, King Proteus...so well you should have known that coming in to negotiate would be folly...this mine is my property...and you will not see a single piece of Mithril, if I have anything to say about it..."

At his command, the air vents inside the mine were now used to pump in a toxic gas, thick green plumes of poison would begin to fill the mine. If that brute hadn't damaged the seals, The Master would not have had to collapse the tunnels, but this would work just as well. Proteus would soon find that his actions would have a terrible consequence upon his well being. 

The gas pumping into the mines did not need to be inhaled for it to begin working. It attacked the eyes, seeped into the skin, and would wreak havoc upon the titan's body. First it would attack his central nervous system, as at the same time it would burn his skin and eyes upon contact. As it killed the hapless dwarves who once roamed these halls, so too would it end the life of this wretched little pest. "It has been so nice...chatting with you...do try to die with some amount of dignity..."

To try and force his way through the rubble of the tunnels would be equally suicidal, as the damage caused to that area of the mine would make it dangerously unstable. Had the mighty warrior simply held back, he would not have caused so much damage to the integrity of the mine, that a complete cave in would not be possible should he try to smash through the rubble. He might be a mighty being, but can he shoulder the weight of the mountain itself? So many tons of rubble...there would hardly be anything left of him, a thought that caused a chuckle to pass as he continued forming his secret back up weapon.

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His first footstep was gradual. As if he was weighing his odds. Making a conscious decision. Committing to an action or ideal and somewhat attempting to think things through entirely. It carried most of his weight. It was a forceful one, causing the walls of the place to vibrate some even as the tremors from the explosions hadn't fully settled---You could still feel and hear that first step.

His second step was everything that his first was but with more vigor. More pace. More commitment behind it, a transitional event from a static state into one of dynamism. It was heavier, and more forceful, creating MORE of a localized seismic event then the step that had proceeded it. It had significantly more thrust, the ground beneath the ball of that foot had broken and been sunken into under the weight and effort. This was the transition into a run, and the third step that followed was no less prolific and caused a sudden but sure boost in speed. 

Naturally Bull's posture had changed into that of a more forward leaning stance. His legs began to pump, and the act of running was occurring. The King was no slouch, for his size, his power to weight ratio assured that "Lumbering" or "Clumsy" were words surely to be left off the list of ways to describe his movements. His feet at one point were hitting the ground in machine gun like repetition all the while several runes had began to flare to 3life, all the while the metaphysical fabrics around his being seemed to become excited for lack of a better term. As he ran, and his speed increased, as did his momentum, as did the footfalls, and all other aspects of this BEAST in motion. It was as if-----the fabrics of existence around him were---Vibrating. 

Because of the spell?? More then likely. Quintessentially Encrypting an individual, so that they are empowered by the laws of that said existence, so that they superseded the laws of physics would bring about such visual phenomena. His body began to glow--becoming ensconced within the same white aura of Celestial Anima that pooled wildly within the rune brands on his body. At an inhuman pace----An Unstoppable Force, was moving head long into a presumably immovable object in the form of tons and tons of rock----And The ROCK, would lose.

He ran through the Toxin filled paths---He didn't stop. As his eyes began to water, and sting, and annoy him---He didn't stop. As that stinging sensation turned into one of burning and out right FIRE fury, he did not stop. As his Body, a glorious body, far from the human standard and-resistant to toxins and poisons began it's process of fending off the intrusions effects. Causing his body's immune system and defensive attributes to trigger---spontaneously increasing his body heat to the point where the surface of his skin literally glows akin to red-hot iron---HE....DID...NOT...STOP!

When he HIT the would be barricade of collapsed rock and still earth. BULL neither slowed. Staggered. Stuttered or Swayed. The entirety of that mass of obstruction didn't just meet with the totality of a 4 ton object moving well over 100mph, it met with the Quintessential AUTHORITY, a Planar LAW of absolution that dictated, demanded and assured that the creature awarded it's blessing---Was Exempt from Physical Obstruction. The immovable object had been disheveled, and the Unstoppable Force Would have prevailed. The act was as reactive and as loud as the explosions that caused the collapses in the first place as He---BULL--Continued to press and run through tons and tons of would be fallen rock, UNTIL emerging from the otherside---without having been slowed even a little bit, and in FULL CHARGE for that same door that the Dark Elf Master cowardly conducted his defenses from. ONLY after shouldering THROUGH that door and sending them flying inward and off their hinges possibly maiming any would be soldiers in their way, would he come sliding to a STOP---SCANT INCHES FROM THE DARK ELF!! STARING HIM DOWN!! BATHING HIM IN THE HEAT OF HIS BREATH WITH EVERY HEAVY CHEST FALL!! EYES, ALIGHT WITH THE CELESTIAL ARCANE THAT EMPOWERS HIS VERY BEING...

and afford him....only these words...

"Im sure by now....we have the understanding that Im no FUCKING...DWARF. YOUR MOVE....ELF."

Sink or swim Dark Elf. Sink or swim...Aye, King Proteus has arrived, and what would you know? Should they continue to pump that said Toxin, that to would be arriving just behind him.


1-Spell of Force - Recharging - (Currently) 3 x Turn prep

 2-Spell of Absorption - Proteus has spent 1 turn absorbing Spell will deactivate after this turn. (Deactivated)1-Turn Of Absorption = 1.5 x increase on all physical states per turn active.

3-Spell of Perpetual Motion (UNSTOPPABLE).



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