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Mr Stark I don't feel so good [Relic Quest]

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There was little to be said or done at this point, Lilith had spoken her orders and therefore they were to be followed to the T. Once the portal opened Caim let the others go first before slowly opening a pocket vortex to replace the FangBlade with his Katana. The blackened blade hummed with fury as Caim approach the bloodmarsh. 

Stepping through his eyes narrowed slightly in irritation at the creatures who surrounded them. The one whom sought to strike Samael was the first to fall as Caim countered the strike with a single slash at the limb. Cutting the beasts arm in two Caim’s rainbow eyes turned blood red with hunger. ‘Diablous heed my call. Feast upon the enemies..’ The severed limb shriveled up the iron product of its blood was then pooled in a orb before boy.  ‘Feast on them..’ Clenching the right hand the katana was held in the left facing the enemy before them.  

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Image result for fantasy creaturesGreen vines. Angry, powerful looking green vines. 

That was the first thing Mercury saw after she skipped giddily through Ankou's portal next to Cerin. Then her vampire instincts and reflexes kicked in. Fangs bared and eyes flashing a red comparable to the Commander's, the little vampire soared forward from the moment she touched down in the marsh. Her nails lengthened, slashing out at the marsh vines with a ferocity that split the first whip into two. Cleanly. She was rather proud of that strike. Very smooth. If the Commander had been there, she might have even received an approving nod. The thought brought a smile to her face. Maybe even more blood cones!

"Why are there so many vinessss," Mercury complained a she bounced around cutting through them with her wolverine-like nails. It wasn't until all of the Paragons, Lilith, and some weird dude in all black armor had arrived and the portals closed that the area around them suddenly lit up, a cerulean glare enveloping the area as if a discolored bolt of lightning had just struck. And, out of the swamp water not an eight of a mile away from the group, roared a creature which Mercury had no idea what the fuck it was, so, the brilliant child vampire she was, dubbed the, whatever-the-fucks. 

"Whatever-the-fucks approaching!" she warned in a voice that was both cautious and excited. That was right up until the moment when she dropped from mid air and landed face first in a pile of mud. "W-what?" 

Her abilities were being slowly drained from her. 

 

[GM NOTE: OVER THE NEXT FEW POSTS, ALL CHARACTERS SHOULD EXPERIENCE A DRAIN IN POWERS. ON PAGE 3 THEY WILL ALL BE TEMPORARILY GONE!] 

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When the portal opened, Cerin lagged behind the initial push, leaving the designated paragons to breach the unknown first before following them through and emerging into a battle. Already, the marsh air was filled with the clamor of conflict. Hades barked in alarm. A motion by her side and Mercury tore into the swamp beast that had reared up in front of them. Cerin swore in surprise and threw her arms up in defense. In response, the ground heaved and a spot beneath the vines turned foul with the stench of rotting swamp debris that clawed its way to the surface. It clutched the base of the creature and held it still for another attack before it pulled lifeless vines and organic material into the mound.

She recognized this as the same ability that she had summoned in panic on the quest for Mori. However, this time it came quickly and instinctively. She was enjoying her new power. Cerin planted herself in the mud and focused, drawing the control out of instinct and into conscious thought. The mass shifted as she wrapped her mind around the energy. It suddenly split off in diverging directions, shooting along the ground wherever Cerin could perceive combat. It would grab at the feet and bases of enemies, slowing and constricting their movements, while leaving allies relatively untouched. Where it touched dead matter, the mass absorbed the organic bits.

Something roared not far away and Mercury was yelling about something coming. Hades changed from a bark to a low whine. All of a sudden, the control slipped from Cerin and the mass collapsed back into the ground. Try as she might, she couldn’t take hold of it again. The cult’s power seemed to have left her. Fear grabbed hold of the necromancer. “What the hell is happening?” She yelled over the commotion.

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"Noo bitch! You bitch!" 

Sephys fell through the portal grasping for something he had never located. Tumbling through a patch of swampy water and landing on his feet, Sephys erected himself to his full height. The water lapped only inches above his knees. Portals were nothing new to him, and he quickly deduced that this place wasn't either. He hadn't called it Bloodstone Marsh in his time, but he had been to a land of similar proportions. You get to understanding global geography when you have an express ride anywhere on a giant named the Terror.

"Did you see how she just grabbed me!?" Sephys was clearly surprised by lil' Lilith's strength, imploring that the others understand him. "The bitch, the woman, just grabbed me and told me what to do!" He finished stomping a midget-sized swamp beast into the water with his half-ton boot, securing the notion that he was initially more concerned with someone touching, much less dragging him anywhere, than with the threat of the beasts. Vines squirmed up out of the water, wrapping around Sephys' arms, and using his foot to continuously pin the beast to the ground, he grabbed onto the vines coiled up his arms and ripped them from their vessel with wreckless abandon, still on his tirade about being pulled places. "I was just doing my afternoon stalk, looking for Archibald, and the she-devil brings me here! For what, to be a her weed whacker?"

More vines extended upward from the water and helixed up his left arm, so he released the poor creature from underwater and bludgeoned it with concussive force into the main mass of another swamp beast. This reminded him of his conquests into Max's Marshlands, an indescribable swamp of great power and warlike segregation he doubted the yung'uns of today's age would understand.

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THE PRETTY PARAGON dXKDZHV.png


 

She passed through the portal, the other cartel members just a few steps behind her. They all dropped into the portal and yet she felt something strange. Somehow their power's are all waning. But the Pretty Paragon was undaunted, unperturbed. She had been fighting such uphill battles ever since she was human. Now that she has become a monster herself, such inconveniences were beneath her. 

As a precaution, the Pretty Paragon unleashed the power of the inferior version of Heaven's Armor. One could say it was a replica, but in reality, it was an offspring of the armor. When the Mistress quested for the legendary blade Baeoi, she gave up claim to the armor and instead took a few chips off it and gave it to every cartel member. That little metallic chip later repaired itself and grew into a new armor but way weaker than the original. Still, any protection is better than nothing and every woman should at least have the modicum amount of protection for themselves. That much is true and is rather important in more ways than one.

The rustling metal underneath her clothes soon turned into a skin-tight armor which covered her very skin and even took on the same color. Now the Pretty Paragon was fully clothed with the inferior armor which worked more like a skimpy catsuit than actual armor.

Logic aside, the monster's roar and its disgustingly ugly appearance somewhat concerned the pretty paragon. Seeing the whiny vampire girl fall out of the sky only confirmed the Pretty Paragon's thoughts-

THIS TEAM IS SO FUCKED. HARD.

Still, she will not falter in the face of this unnecessarily perverse adversity. Even with those mass of tentacle-like vine appendages, the Pretty Paragon was confident she would muster the courage to face the rather kinky aBomination head on. Unsheathing both her swords, she moved towards the dirty vampire and sneered at it.

"Stand up, Mer! Stop whining. I know you can do better than this."

With her words finally uttered, the Pretty Paragon leads the charge, her recently conjoined blades seeming to glow in excitement. Even as her power waned, her resolution grew in opposition. She will kill this fucking B-rate movie beast no matter the cost, even if she has to sacrifice her flesh as the price. Such grotesque absurdity must not breed and spread past this marsh. The Pretty Paragon will protect the dignity and chastity of all the other members within the cult, and perhaps the other innocent being within this region. This is a duty she, the Pretty Paragon will accomplish without hesitation or reservation. She will do what must be done.

And so she leads the charge with a roar. "PARAGONS! TO BATTLE!"

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The beasts were on him as soon as he exited the portal, but Ankou had been prepared, and launched a wave of death aura to meet his attackers. As soon as the aura made contact with the whipping tendrils withered and crumbled, as the life was drained from them. Looking around, he saw that he had come out near the strange armored man that Lilith had decided to bring with them. He decided to approach him, and as he did so he heard the man cursing the Lunar Daughter out, and his eyes narrowed. Extending his hand, he summoned his scythe, and reached out with it to put the blade right next to the big mans throat, stopping short of actually touching him.

"Speak of her that way again, and this marsh will be your grave."

As he was admonishing the armored man, he heard more swamp monsters coming out, and threw another death wave at them. But this time the wave barely traveled ten feet before it seemed to crumble and dissipate. Clearly his powers were being suppressed, which would make things more difficult to be sure. However, one didn't live a thousand years relying on the same trick. Twirling the scythe in his hands, he cleaved through multiple tendrils as they rocketed toward them. The virus borne by the scythe acted slower than usual, but soon the creatures began to weep blood from different orifices and thrashing around before going still.

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Though Ankou reacted angrily to the armored man's action, Lilith merely snorted. Derision clear in her expression. She didn't particularly understand what he meant by "she-devil" but from context Lilith assumed he was calling her a title equivalent to the Witch-King. Which in turn summoned a mixture of emotions, most of which were quickly devoured by the ancient voices of past Lunar Daughters swirling around in her mind. 

When a few of the vines lashed out her way, Lilith merely glared at them and the living shrubbery erupted into black flames. A necromantic fire that quickly ate away at the essence with a vengeful force of will. The fire, however, was quick to die down. As we're the consequential attacks that Lilith attempted to skewer them with. 

At the seemingly growing impotence of her powers, the lines of her lips thinned and their ends dropped into a deep frown. Her brows creased as the hatred and anger in her eyes roared with rage. She would not be rendered powerless. Not by Zengi, not by Gaia, not by anyone or anything

Unsheathing Deathbringer in the direction of the Nightmares, the creatures Mercury dubbed Whatever-The-Fucks, Lilith growled loudly. The gears in her mind sped up, reliving everything she'd thought or felt in the few moments since arriving in the Marsh. Then she pointed to the left of the Nightmares. "To the left! Run left toward the soul stone. I think it's absorbing our soul energy. We need to go. GO!" 

Running over to Mercury, Lilith lifted up the little vampire and shoved her toward Cerin to lead the blind necromancer. 

"Khaki, you and the other Black Spear Paragons stay with me to protect the rear." Grabbing the collar of a smaller cartel Paragon Lilith pushed her away. "You. Go to the Vanguard. Let move. NOW."

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THE PRETTY PARAGON ae2b77138a1e3ab35657fc35ee675e30.jpg


  With the new orders form the Commander, the Pretty Paragon led her the ex-cartel Paragons to the left, bringing up the rear. They are unfazed even when facing such monstrosities. The Nightmares were but another hindrance for these veteran fighters, especially for the Pretty Paragon. They merely scoffed at such grotesque creatures.

As the whole party began their retreat, so too did the Pretty Paragon led this unwinnable battle. She may be powerful but with the gradual waning of her powers, no one can tell when she or her allies will be overwhelmed by these monsters. Even so, her team will not break formation. They are the last ones standing between the cult members and their imminent demise.

Unlike most of the cult members who relied on their own magical or supernatural abilities, the Pretty Paragon was never afraid to get physical. She had been an underdog all her life, fighting one uphill battle after another. Facing another overwhelming opponent was something she was used to. Even the lack of her power was something she sneered at. This land may bring her down to the level of a mundane person but the Pretty Paragon will never falter, will never succumb to her enemies.

And so she fought like a graceful dancer twirling and swirling in the gore-filled battlefield that was the marsh. She was that solemn beauty that stood alone in the midst of a massacre and yet not even the horrors of battle can mar the beauty of her presence. But this did not last long as the last vestiges of her power finally run out, her glowing blades slowly winking out, returning to the mundane pair of blades they once were. 

Still, the Pretty Paragon was undaunted, unperturbed by this recent development. She merely took a different approach. This one was less showy, more methodical. She still remembered the old man's teachings-  

Against stronger foes, do not block but deflect. Let their strength flow through you. Against faster foes, do not mind their speed. Minimize your movements and react accordingly. Against enemies that have both power and speed above you. Compensate with experience and technique-

She took all these teachings to heart and now she unfolds these unto this battlefield. The Nightmares may be a threat to the others, but not to the Pretty Paragon. After all, even without her magic, without her supernatural abilities, the Pretty Paragon is inherently strong. She may not kill these horrors outright, but she can keep them at bay long enough for Lilith and the cult reach the stone.

No creatures can ever pass through the Pretty Paragon.

 

Edited by Thotification

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It is almost tangible, the way the magic drains from him, the way his powers melt away like winter’s frost in the young summer sun. Samael’s lip tightens almost imperceptibly as he wrenches his bloody fingers away from the gaping hole in the swamp creature’s body and gives the mirror world’s frizzy sky a calculating look.

He had been relying on the destruction of the creatures’ Shatterpoints, but with the way the Other Place creaks and groans under the influence of the magic vacuum, it cannot be trusted on for Samael to continue using in this fight.

Disappointing circumstances, but not altogether unsalvageable.

Samael twists away from a violent swipe of animated treebark, rolls out and jabs a foot into the attacking creature, sending it into a collision with another monster. Suddenly, he cocks his head in attention at the sound of the Commander’s voice booming over the battlefield, listening and waiting.

"To the left! Run left toward the soul stone. I think it's absorbing our soul energy. We need to go. GO!"

The Vanguard are to move forth and clear the way for the group to progress, and without the use of his Shattering, the boy is rendered useless in this position—if not for the weapon his Commander had granted him.

Dashing quickly over the murky ground, Samael pivots to the left, joining the frontliners as they mowed down the Nightmares in a haze of violence and crimson spray. He unsheathes the spadroon attached to his waist and clutches it with determination against the creatures, wielding it expertly and without mercy.

Heartbane.

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Growth Perk: Hardline: Given the Stress of battle without the use of his powers once more, his body has not hit overdrive. Giving him an immense adrenaline rush allowing him to perform as if he lost nothing.


Diablous's presence was not felt for long as Caim cut through his enemies using their blood as other blades to mow down their numbers. Soon however the blood fountain had run out and the strength of all magic was drained from his system. At first, his objective was to deal with the beasts before them, but now the direction of their assault had changed. The explosion of vines looking to consume them now crowded his vision, the next was the sight of the Soul stone which sought to steal their powers. Caim frowned heavily at the sight of trouble. 'Odin be my Guide..' He mumbled to himself as he pulled the zipper up on the trench coat to keep it firmly around his figure. Yet even as the power faded he had power enough for one last change, turning the katana to flames it transformed into a halbert meant for his size. Spinning the polearm around himself he gave himself the forward advantage; keeping himself ahead of the rest his breathing completely reset. 

'Ton ton ton ton ton.' A droning sensation rolled in his chest as the halbert began to whine and whistle cutting through the air at a blinding pace. Keeping his progression forward he did not stop twirling the halbert firmly in hand even as he began cutting through large strips of vines in various chunks. What was left behind him were large bunches of vines withering away as their life was cut short in multiple places. His fingers did not lose grip nor did the action take much energy as all he needed to do was keep the momentum of the polearm going. The ever-sharp blade did the rest of the work cleaving and cutting their obstacle down with ease. He left the defenses against the NIghtmares to the other paragons running forward with him as he maintained the steady pace towards the stone.

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Cerin wasn’t prepared for the feeling of her magic being sucked away. Her perception of the world slowly narrowed until she was limited to only her most basic senses. Sound, touch, smell. The greater senses that her necromancy afforded her- dead location, spiritual guidance, her dog- were stripped away. Hades whined again by her feet, a low pitiful sound, and she reached down to scratch behind a protruding vertebrae on the undead dog. I’ll come back for you. She sent the dog to lie behind a tree close by where they opened the initial portal. She felt her command received and knew he had reached the tree before she severed the connection. She would need to conserve the remaining scraps of her power. Nothing left to do but continue forward. The situation didn’t seem to dim the ambitions of the commander; The mission would continue, albeit under a time constraint.

Cerin drew a knife from a pouch at her side. It was a simple affair, short and plainly forged of common metal, but it was sharp. She felt Mercury’s hand at her arm. “If I run into a tree, I’m never giving you a snack again.” She warned. 

The energy of the soul stone flickered on the edge of Cerin’s radar as they retreated from the encounter, following Lilith. The young necromancer felt a vine wrap around her leg. Cerin didn’t hesitate to slice through the tendril. It snapped free with a sickening squelch. The next one came snapping towards her arm and met a similarly punctured fate. She had heard too many raunchy tales of a dryadic encounter to put up with this shit. 

 

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As Lilith was leading the backguard in defense of the Paragon's behind them, escaping toward the Soul Stone, one of the Nightmares roared and charged through the ranks directly at her. If she'd still had her magic the beast would have collapsed at her feet, regardless of whether it was highly regarded in the Marsh or not. Unfortunately, said magic had been drained from her. Or, at least, her ability to connect with it had been severed. Temporarily, anyways. She doubted even a Cornerstone could hold back the ocean of power angrily crashing around within her. 

Having given Heartbane to Samael and her gauntlet rendered to pointless deadweight, only Deathbringer seemed to bring any actual use to the battle. It soon dawned on Lilith that with her magic sapped, much if not all of her enhanced strength had followed. That rendered her to nothing but a powerless human. A woman with a sword much to heavy to be easily swung. 

Tendrils of muscles throughout her body coiled and tensed as she lifted Deathbringer, swinging it at the approaching Nightmare with a deadly a accuracy.

No, not a mere woman. Or a mere human.

She had still trained in swordsmanship. In strategy. Her toned body seemed to hum at the challenge of fighting on its own strength, no longer boosted by the corrupted magic that usually swashed around in her veins. 

Even the screaming voices of the past Lunar Daughters had quieted to something almost resembling silence. She hadn't felt this good since... Well since her fight against Zeph. The Peacekeeper of Casper. 

The question of whether she was capable of doing now still on her mind, Lilith engaged the beast with her giant sword once again. The durable blade ringing out as it clashed angrily into the beast's nails. It's eye looked at her. Curiosity filling them.

It looked surprise that she could still hold her own. Of Lilith had to guess she would say it was most likely able to sense someone's power. 

Then it roared again, spittle flying at her as it threw it's clawed paws like battling guns. Sharp, white teeth glaring out in the background of the Nightmare's black everything.

But this time Lilith reacted in kind, all her pent up anger at losing her magic, at the screaming voices in her head fortunately silenced, at everything that had and would stand in her path: she roared back. An eerily human scream that held enough inherent command and authority, a primal range of superiority that it forced even the Nightmare to take a step back. It wasn't much but it was enough for Lilith to twist her body and reangle the heavy sword so that it whizzed past a falling claw and instead arced around to cut the arm clean off from the body. 

Black and red blood squirted out from the Nightmare's sliced shoulder and the created shrieked in both pain and true surprise, no longer curious. It wasn't dead; no it was much to strong for that. 

But it had been wounded. Forced to be wary of her. 

She glanced for a second back to the Paragons behind her and snarled at the Nightmare. 

This isn't over the look said. But the Soul Stone was more important. So, without leaving her back defenseless Lilith started to back away and when the Nightmare, now cautious, didn't immediately jump her way, Lilith increased her speed. 

It was something she'd never have done a year ago. Retreat? Pathetic. But she'd grown, if slightly. If she wanted power, she couldn't be a stupid child. Choices had to be made. Choices that she couldn't let be muddled by such human emotions as pride. So she squashed down the desperate scream deep in her gut that urged her to fight and yelled at the Vanguard to hurry it up. They need to escape out of the vines.

 

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Almost forgotten amidst the flashier, more experienced Paragons, Shane Haydes had silently followed alongside Lilith and her entourage the whole way. It was his first mission as part of the cult, his initiation task of burning Everrun to the ground notwithstanding. Even with his newfound power, he had insisted on dressing in his looted hodgepodge of Terran battle armor and gear. It was charred and discolored, parts of it covered in bloodstains from the men who had been killed by the Legion of Doom during its invasion of Last Chance, but he had recovered enough scattered parts to make a workable outfit. It was a memento of the latest step in the weird progression of his life.

After being forced to flee his homeland after committing arson and murder there, he had fallen in with a band of pirates in Casper, though he jumped ship upon arrival in Ursa Madeum's Pirate's Cove, joining the crew of a pirate lord called Copperbeard for a time. But he seem left that place too, hitching a ride with a band of scavengers headed for Last Chance, where he and his compatriots took to looting the war-torn city in the aftermath of the battle there. As the salvage began to dry up, he then took on mercenary work, falling under the employ of a woman known as "Miss Blonde", ironically alongside some of the members of the Blackspear Cartel that was present here. But that job went south when Blonde bailed, the club they were attempting to raid then being taken over by an organization called "The Dead". Shane attempted to detonate the building using Blonde's bomb, but was ultimately thwarted.

All these things had turned the youth from a guilt-ridden exile who just wanted to start over, into a vengeful terrorist who wanted to burn civilization to the ground for its continued acquiescence to corruption, decadence and misguided ideology. It was a desire to have the power to force his will upon society that drove him to Everrun, originally to speak with the so-called "Prophet" there, but ultimately to pledge his allegiance to Lilith instead. The decision had unleashed his rage, his burning hatred for what humanity had become, into a tangible power born of flame. But unlike the other Paragons, he had come from nothing, having had no powers or magic knowledge prior to joining the cult. Whereas other Paragons felt their existing power strengthen to new heights, what Shane experienced was a dormant affinity brought to the surface for the first time. As such, of all the members here, even the much younger ones, he was most inexperienced when it came to control over his powers.

This fact was evident when they entered combat, as Shane's flames flickered between being too weak to accomplish anything, to bursting outward in huge arcs that threatened to singe his allies (though they at least accomplished their intended task of roasting the vines and critters that tried to attack him). Indeed, the young man was a Californian's worst nightmare. But his powers were not the only weapon he had, for he had brought his plasma rifle and cutlass with, being more familiar and experienced in using them than he was with his fire magic. As the Soul Stone began to suck the power out of everyone, Shane was not as discombobulated as they were. Confused, yes, but hardly unused to being without his powers.

"Right."

He drew out his plasma rifle and began using it to fire upon the hostiles, but he found the vines were too difficult to hit with such a weapon. He then switched to his cutlass, a simple, but sturdy weapon that he'd obtained among the pirates, and had kept with him ever since. It was nothing special, but the trusty blade had served him well when he needed it to. And given it was quite like a machete, the natural predator of vines, the weapon once again proved its worth to its wielder. As he hacked and slashed away at the organic tendrils, because apparently that's more intimidating to say than vines, he began to ponder the fact that everyone else had named swords, but not him.

"Hmm, what should I call you...?" he muttered under his breath.

*Slash*

"Vinecutter?"

*Hack*

"Thicketslasher?"

*Slice*

"Ivysbane?"

*Chop*

"Plantslayer?"

*Cut*

"Oh... I got it... Hedgetrimmer."

It would be an in-joke with himself. His venerable blade would be forever known as Hedgetrimmer, bane of plantkind and slayer of all things that breath carbon! It wasn't any sillier than all these other people who named their swords, or whose swords came with names to begin with. And considering how well-suited his blade was for cutting through vines and underbrush, it actually made sense, really.

Meanwhile, the Commander kept urging them to move on, as she withdrew from her ongoing battle with the Nightmare beast. Shane kept up as best he could, ungracefully, but effectively, using his mortal weapon to good effect against the lesser hostiles that harassed them along the way. In a way, it was funny, if for but a moment, to be near-equal to everyone else here. Even Lilith, though clearly more skilled with a blade than he, was little more than a mortal with a sword in this moment in time. Funny that his first mission with the cult should be one where all the others are brought down to his level, even if temporarily.

 

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Sephys proved through sheer stature that many of the Nightmare creatures were of little consequence to his motions. What he could not bludgeon, he could stab with his jagged broadsword. What he could not stab, was already dead.

"Speak of her that way again, and this marsh will be your grave."

Presently, Isigdril was holding a beast under the marshwater with one hand and ripping significant portions of its body away with the other, his sheathed sword swinging behind him with every wide tearing motion. The top of the giant knight's chestplate and the bottom of his helm created a maw of steel teeth which could at any moment be construed as a giant smile, or a giant angry grimace. When someone came to the she-devil's defense, Sephys' ripping apart of his victim paused. The black maw shifted toward Ankou. And in that moment, it could easily be construed as a laugh of hilarity.

"Hahahaha! Yes portal maker, and perhaps you can teleport us to a place where that scares me." Then, turning toward Lilith again as her and the others embroiled themselves in combat. The vine monster he had been subduing before turning to defend his haphazard honor began coiling up his body again. The vines entered black crevices of Sephys' armor and emerged again on the other side, as if nothing were inside, but he just pointed at the Commander. "She came between me and my Archibald! Ohh," came a growl from the large suit of menacing armor, another half-ton foot stomping down on the creature twisting up his legs and torso. "I was just about to find him and now I'm here! You better take me back there when we're done!"

Sephys moved on from his dead Nightmare, toward the feeling of loss and hopelessness. Confusion? Weakness? These were but similar precursors to the long nap from which Sephys had just awoken; and his power was largely derived from the hulking mass of the armor he inhabited. As his magic left him, his kills only became more and more brutal. Somewhere between a stalk and a run forward brought the Terror of Kasyrga careening into many  foe that splashed back into the muck until he found himself near Lilith as she backed away from a large Nightmare carrying her big sword. Sephys' sword looked roughly proportional to his large size, whereas Lilith's sword looked almost as big as her. Again, appendages of foliage came for him, and again he beat them away with his sword.

"Why are you doing this? The magic reception is awful. I'm barely getting any signal out here at all!"

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With the majority of her power nullified, or whatever was happening to them, Mercury wasn't exactly in a fighting state. There was only so much an unarmed preteen human girl could do fighting wise, so the little vampire focused on helping Cerin. 

"If I run into a tree, I’m never giving you a snack again.” [Cerin]

Mercury gulped and sent a quick prayer to whatever gods or goddesses existed to not let Cerin find her nose buried in a tree. No snacks? Forever? That was the real nightmare. She tugged Cerin a little the lift as the group continued down an unseen path, squeezing Cerin's hand everytime the necromancer needed to jump over a log or vine that strewn at their feet. 

That was when they reached a thin bridge- one that the Nightmares, hopefully, wouldn't be able to cross. Or would die going across cause it couldn't hold there weight. Honestly? Mercury was pretty okay with either option. Getting her powers back to rip them a new one would be nice too. 

"The bridge," she yelled, dragging Cerin in its direction. 

 

*GM Note: Nightmares are Player Character Level. Can't be killed by our current magic-less characters. 

*Bridge holds 4 people at a time, not sturdy, takes about 30 seconds to cross. Shakes due to high altitude and windy environment.

 

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