Battle Start! Squire's Party Versus Barnabas the Cutter!
Carrie-Anne throws darts! Critical hit(x3)!
Barnabas the Cutter suffers 22, 20 and 16 point(s) of damage!
Slave attacks!
Barnabas the Cutter suffers 7 point(s) of damage!
Vile releases a barrage of Magic Missiles!
Barnabas suffers 21, 22, 20, 19 and 22 point(s) of damage!
Barnabas the Cutter attacks! Slave suffers 115 point(s) of damage!
"This guy's tougher than he looks." Slave calls out to me, "We could really use some help here, Squire!"
I can't even wonder where those darts Carrie threw had come from. I'm just too stunned by the spectacle before me. Are they crazy? Attacking a human is like, the worst thing that you can possibly do! Okay, maybe there are some worse things, but I certainly can't think of any! We have to... we have to...
What exactly are we supposed to do here? Run away? The quest is finished, apparently. Vile and Carrie seemed to just join the melee following Slave's lead, but why on earth is she so determined to stand and fight? Of course I already know the answer, even if I refuse to confirm it. The dusty trap door is set open not far to my side, the sunbeam from the newly opened doorway lancing across it, offering a clear view of what lay within.
With more than a bit of hesitancy, I very slowly turn my head towards it, looking down the wooden stairwell, only to meet another gaze in return. Although that's not really accurate, is it? A gaze implies something that's still capable of seeing back. Little of the face is visible, just that wide, frozen, terrified green eye which one of the many flies within the cellar apathetically wander across. Far too small of an eye, on far too small of a head, the faint hints of mussed hair caked with dried blood. They aren't alone, either. That might have been the only unfortunate soul partially lit up by the stray sunbeam, but even in the darkness I can detect several more unmoving lumps.
There isn't much of a puzzle here, and yet I still find myself puzzled as my eyes return to the large, stone-faced man who is currently battling my allies. How could someone do such a thing? Why? What's the point? Of course, in the end, the actual reasons don't really matter. What's done is done. Except that it's not, is it? It's never really done, if it can be allowed to happen again.
I should be enraged, far moreso than Slave who doesn't even like humans. I, more than anyone else here, should make him want to pay for what he has done, and yet instead I simply feel numb. As though I'm not even here. I might as well not be, after all, because what can I do? And even if I can do anything, what difference will it make?
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Barnabas the Cutter uses Butcher! Critical hit!
Slave suffers 225 point(s) of damage!
All at once the spell over me is broken, and I rush in to do what I must. It isn't to avenge the deaths of innocents, or to punish a criminal. I join the fight to protect my allies, and at that moment, nothing else matters at all.
Squire has joined the battle!
Divine Aegis activated! Defense for all allies has increased!
Holy Wrath activated! Attack for all allies has increased!
Squire uses 'Lay on Paws'!
Slave recovers 355 Hit Points!
No, it doesn't matter what this opponent is, or what they have done. My friends need me, and I have to be there for them.
What follows is a spectacle only marginally more hideous than what I had seen within the cellar. Wounds steadily appear on the body of the human, more than he should have been capable of enduring, but at no point did he cry out in pain or rage, nor did his movements slow or his strikes weaken. I kept waiting for him to surrender or collapse into unconsciousness, but it never happened, and all the while I was having a harder and harder time keeping up with the healing, the wounds on the black cat also accumulating in spite of my best efforts.
Vile had also stepped up her efforts, using some of her larger spells (well, as large as she could manage without harming her allies within this enclosed space), along with plenty of debuffs and status ailments, but all of them were simply shrugged off, seemingly by sheer force of will. Carrie-Ann similarly pelted the large target from all sides with thin, needle-like darts which, while far from devastating had all left their mark, leaving small cumulative cuts on the sunburned flesh of the butcher, all of which the human entirely ignored. He did regularly try to strike the other targets, namely the bird circling about him, but Slave always seemed to end up in the path of his powerful strikes, no matter where he aimed.
As for me, my divine strike isn't an option as I need to constantly heal Slave. As for my conventional sword strikes? Well, even when I need to recover my spirit, they're still not an option. Sure, this man couldn't look any different from my master if he tried, yet I just couldn't bring myself to raise a blade against a human, even as my own allies gradually wearied from the prolonged battle.
"Ugh, enough of this..." The crow grumbles, and for the first time I notice the metallic claws set upon her feet.
Carrie-Anne uses blind!
Barnabas the Cutter suffers 95 point(s) of damage!
Barnabas the Cutter is blinded!
I look on in horror. While the attack proves to be very much true to its name, it isn't some simply status ailment. Instead, the smiling crow had gouged those small, empty eyes right out of the human's face. The large man might have shrugged off all of the other attacks, but this one he couldn't ignore, throwing back his head and letting out a high pitched, infantile wail.
Both Vile and Slave are similarly surprised and break off their attack. The battle is clearly over, although it seems that not all of us agreed on that fact. "No! Stop!" I call out as I see Carrie turn mid-flight and dart towards the now exposed throat of the human. It's already too late, however. A black blur flies past the neck, leaving an 'x' of two long, deep wounds, simple thin red lines at first, the blood beneath taking just a moment to realize that there is no longer flesh there to hold it in.
Carrie-Anne uses coup-de-grace!
Barnabas the Cutter suffers 1155 point(s) of damage!
Barnabas the Cutter has died!
Barnabus the Cutter has been defeated! Squire has gained 24,600 Experience Point(s) and 125 Gold(s)!
Squire has reached Paladin, level 23!
Strength is now 148! (+18 point(s)!)
Endurance is now 216! (+27 point(s)!)
Agility is now 149! (+18 point(s)!)
Intelligence is now 59! (+6 point(s)!)
Faith is now 260! (+30 point(s)!)
Charisma is now 189! (+21 point(s)!)
Squire has gained 48 maximum HP!!
Vile has reached Arcanist, level 22!
Strength is now 3! (+0 point(s)!)
Endurance is now 2! (+0 point(s)!)
Agility is now 83! (+9 point(s)!)
Intelligence is now 655! (+90 point(s)!)
Faith is now 88! (+9 point(s)!)
Charisma is now 24! (+3 point(s)!)
Vile has gained 3 maximum HP and 150 maximum mana!
Slave has reached Berserker level 22!
Strength is now 26! (+3 point(s)!)
Endurance is now 1054! (+150 point(s)!)
Agility is now 272! (+36 point(s)!)
Intelligence is now 211! (+27 point(s)!)
Faith is now 52! (+6 point(s)!)
Charisma is now 125! (+15 point(s)!)
Slave has gained 300 maximum HP!
I naturally take no joy in the victory. I once again find myself completely numb, staring as the oversized body collapsed into a puddle of its own blood. "What... what did you do?" I ask, still in shock, before the terrible truth of the matter finally dawns on me "What have we done?"
---
Vile: "Huh, I was expecting for Squire to see the rat-doll down in the cellar."
Slave: "That would be a little bit contrived, and the timing wouldn't really line up."
Vile: "Maybe, but it would help explain to why you got o angry. Then again, maybe you don't really need any added reason to want to avenge the death of humans."
Slave: "What do you mean? I hate humans!"
Vile: "Oh, please. I saw the level up details. I know that all it took was a pet from some kid to increase your faith in humanity."
Slave: ...
Squire: "Huh, I didn't notice that at all."
Vile: "You really need to pay more attention to these things."