Ranker
Cyclical taps of shoes against paved stone fill the air, the sounds collecting together in a synchronised heartbeat in rhythm with the metallic cries of the steel strings of a cimbalom being struck by cotton wound sticks with masterful precision. Ribbons cascade around the core musician in a river which blocks all view of the performers, save for the occasional wake of arms breaching the surface before sinking back as the pattern of ribbons shifts into to conjoined whirlpools.
A crowd claps in rhythm with the music, a tame wave forming as they step back and forth in a circle around the play, save for one especially well built individual to the far back practically chewing her lip in impatient seething. I swear these things get longer every year... I've been sitting here for hours! Why am I even the one guarding this random spot in the city? I'm clearly way overkill for this! Aeryth's aggravated thoughts go unnoticed by the crowd, who continue to dance and clap with a unified mirth, though perhaps not completely unnoticed by the large figure watching from a roof across the plaza. What is he doing here? No, wait! This is a perfect excuse! If I have to sit through these guys singing about the big hole in the floor again...
"Ondune, you take over for a minute. I'm being summoned." She orders her extraordinarily long subordinate, who responds with a giddy salute. "Yes maam! There shall be no nerdowells who escape my watchful eye!" "Sure, great, anyway..." Aeryth leaves the plaza, taking the shortest route to anywhere less noisy before directing herself towards a tall pylon, ululating a dim spectrum of shifting lights.
Cultivator
Faux inspects the burgundy gemstone held gently between his fingers, seemingly entranced by the faint white glow casting from its core and the way it seems to disturb the surrounding qi. "Like you said, there is no qi, or Mana as you call it, and yet it still glows." "Of course, of course! I would never tell a lie about my products. So are you buying? I can also offer some nice orichalcum chains to go with it. Their quality has even been praised by the great protector!" His olive eyes briefly study the scraggly shopkeeper in front of him, before returning to the gem, no discernible emotion held within his mannerisms. "Perhaps I will. What price are you offering?"
Programmer
We were supposed to meet at twenty-five, right? Where is she? Ghost sits snug within the plush sofa of a newly opened all you can eat buffet, the cosy pillows and mouth-watering scents of deep-fried foods and sizzling meat doing nothing to tame her nerves as she braves the crowded venue alone. Did she forget? No, she's never forgotten before. And she'd send one of her goons to tell me if something happened... Did I get the time wrong? She gets of work at... thirty... Her hands slip into her pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper, turned grey from the myriad of notes and doodles adorning it. In the corner sits one note in particular, a scribble denoting the note as being for a date today followed by two digits, one of which an indiscernible scribble which could really be seen as both a two and a three. I'm ten hours early. Fuck.
Transmigrator
"He's buying a fancy stone. What do you think he wants with it?" "I'm still against this, Auvic. Even if you were to reveal all of your cards I do not see you winning this fight." A pair of invisible eyes peer through a tinted glass window at the blonde haired cultivator within. "Hey, don't worry so much. You said yourself that I'll progress faster through adversity, and what greater adversity is there than facing an unbeatable opponent?" "There is a fine distinction between adversity and delusion. You will gain nothing if he kills you, and I can only interfere so much within this world. In time you will naturally reach the stage of convolution, you need only be patient." As the man leaves the storefront, pocketing his newly acquired fancy stone, Auvic follows behind at a healthy distance, his body hidden somewhere between nothingness and tangibility. "Patience can only go so far you know. Besides, maybe if I go fast enough my title will be something cool like 'the rapid one' or 'the exponential one'." "Perhaps, 'the impatient one'."
Spider
Aah, finally. This time giga should be perfectly hidden. A human-looking girl floats above a normal looking hill, peering down at the seamless surface pridefully with eyes opened unnaturally wide. Shifting her gaze to the horizon, she scans the surrounding forest with fine scrutiny through two overly-complex arrays of light. And there's nobody to randomly stumble upon me either, this is great! Now I just need to reconnect the threads to this location and I'll be prepared.
Ranker
Aeryth runs a finger along the runes wrapping neatly around the stone pylon before her, light painting the calloused skin of her palm with vibrant hues. A dense energy pulsates through the complex matrix of symbols, brushing against the surrounding air and spreading the rich odour of festival foods and smoke, a faint hint of lemon sneaking through the scents.
"What do you see?" A distorted voice questions from behind, a soft yet dense hum lacking the sharpness of ordinary speech as if spoken from several quiet mouths. "A bunch of lights." Aeryth dismisses, turning around to face the divine beast addressing her. Thick coats of grey fur flow around his body without obedience towards the confines of gravity, the soft winds combing waves across the shimmering coat save for a sparse few patches across his face which stand alert and vibrate in tune with the voice. "I see a disturbance in the barrier. Something is trying to interfere with the outer pylons, and I cannot find what, where, or how." She turns back to the array, the lights and symbols just as much of an enigma as before.
"Is this why you called me here yourself? To tell me to keep my guard up? I already have enough on my plate with the psycho prowling the streets in broad daylight who, might I remind you, I can't observe from this random plaza in the middle of nowhere." "No, I called you here for a separate matter. The area you are guarding is more important than you know. I can see you are dissatisfied with your position, but if something does happen during the festival you must guard the plaza, and guard it well." Aeryth looks down at him from her full height with sceptical eyes, his own bearing an unwavering bastion of confidence in return. "Will you tell me what I'm actually protecting?" "It is a family concern. Your work here is greatly appreciated, but don't pry into this matter." "Right, a family matter. As always with you bastards. Anything else?" "Nothing. I'll leave the rats to you."
The beast vanishes, no spells cast or lingering energy left behind, only a small puff of dust where his feet once stood. "I must be getting old. To not notice the dozen people all breathing in my direction is really unlike me." Her gaze casts around herself, sequentially locking eyes with each of the thirteen people watching her to coax them out of hiding. Their positions compromised, they each step out from their hideaways, some dispelling their invisibility spells, while others climb out from behind doors and inside pots, and one particularly exotic individual unfurling a large parchment, painted to match the wall he steps away from.
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"So few of you? You clearly weren't targeting me then." She taunts, her clenched fists glowing red and bending the air with heat. "Captor of the labyrinth! Your hours are numbered! Once we're finished crushing you we'll move on to that false protector, liberate nilasuun and-" The head of the mouthy fool is crushed into the stone paving below, his face branded by the heat of the giant palm tossing him away like a dirty rag. "So you're from that labyrinth cult I take it? Unfortunately we have a zero tolerance policy on attempted assassinations this year, so I'm going to have to ask you all to politely sit still while I pave the streets with your broken bodies." Doing this without killing them is going to be such a pain. Never thought I'd miss the tower world's lack of restraint, but here we are.
Her palm wraps around her fist, the loud cracking of her knuckles signalling her ignition into a state of pure flame. Just as quickly as her ability activates two cultists make their approach, sword and glaive poised to slice through her midsection and neck. Instead of blocking or dodging, she twists, throwing her palms into the steel blades and melting them the hilt. The force of her strike emits shock-waves of scalding air, throwing the pair back and roasting the flesh on their forearms. The swordsman collapses to the ground, fist still tightly wound around the smouldering hilt of his blade while the glaiveswoman barely manages to catch her fall and stave off unconsciousness. Stubborn bastards.
"Your guard is down!" Fucking amateur. Without turning to face the attack, her body crackles and boils, flames burning away to leave behind a form of lightning which snakes its way into the torrent of oncoming water to reach its source. Electricity devours the crystal sphere held at the stave tip, the beam of water beginning to fall limp to the ground as it shatters. The wooden stave creaks and burns as she weaves through to the caster, eyes still focused on her former position with naive overconfidence. Pulsing through his body, she leaves behind the fractal brand of lightning burns, reforming to her natural body before the first drop of water graces the ground.
"Nine of you left. Are you going to make me come to you?" Her taunt seemingly goes unheard, their eyes shifting back and forth between her and each other before three step forward with a nod. They're analysing me. Even if these guys are weak I shouldn't risk them learning too much and reporting back. The middle cultist lifts her palms, the magical arrays tattooed into her flesh glowing bright as two needle-shaped bolts of energy burst forth and bend around the other two who charge in with lightning and ice wrapped fists. Aeryth slams her palms to the ground, the resulting shock-wave arresting their balance and throwing several stone slabs into the air. With precise motions she strikes five slabs, launching them towards each attacking cultist and the two energy arrows, crushing their abdomens and prematurely detonating the arrows. "Is that i-" Bang!
A sharp sting pricks at her neck, lessened as she pries out the bullet from her tough skin, a slight trickle of blood falling from the closing wound. "Should've poisoned it." She muses, turning to face the cultist who snuck behind with a rifle, staring dumbfounded at the seemingly invulnerable behemoth. Before anything else can be spoken, Aeryth flicks the bullet back at the cultist's solar plexus, closing the distance within the span of a breath as they collapse gasping for air and lifting them by the throat well above twice their body height. Pulling the rifle from the loosened grip of the cultist, she inspects the weapon closely. "Maroltin tech? How interesting."
Stashing away the weapon in her belt and dropping the unconscious shooter, she turns back to the remaining cultists. "Five left? You got any more tricks, or are you just going to give up and let me arrest you in one piece already?" Her query is answered by a puff of smoke and the appearance of a knife at her throat, promptly countered with a bone crushing vice grip on the attacking wrist. Her form becomes a blur as she twists and hurls the body down at the swordsman stepping through a portal behind her. As the bodies are about to collide, the one in her grip vanishes, replaced by a heavy log decorated in talismans which lands with enough force to crumple the swordsman, sword and all. Shit.
Her eyes cast down at the former swordsman, twitches of irritation tugging at her lip. I killed one. That'll be a lot of paperwork. Turning back to the remaining four she cracks her neck and steps forward, watching as the forearm of her previous attacker is pieced back to a straight limb, a stunned look in both of their eyes as they glance at their once comrade. "The healer always goes first." She taunts before launching forward. In response, the largest of the cultists summons a tower shield and locks position in front of the others, an intense gravitational push attempting to drive her away.
Ignoring the headwind of force, Aeryth continues her charge unfettered, landing a heavy punch directly on the tower shield. Tremendous force ripples through the metal wall, splintering the edges as it is redirected and spread through the ground. The entire street, up to a barrier around the pylon, is upturned around them in a cascade of roaring earth. The shield bearer trembles in pain, blood leaking through black robes as a pale light envelopes him from behind and mends his wounds. This guy is from the tower world... His ability will have some trick to it to stop me from just sneaking around and targeting his ward. Well, it's not like I have to start with the healer.
Aeryth grips the top of the shield and presses down, the pressure and heat steadily growing, compressing and melting the ground. From behind another puff of smoke flares followed by the singing of flesh as she once again ignites her body, allowing the knife to pass through and melt while her fist slams down on the shield. The earth erupts once more, magma spilling outward as the shield is crushed in half and melted length-ways. Returning to her normal form she lands a punch on the staggering shield bearer, slamming him into the healer and crashing them both into a wall, followed by an uppercut to the one attacking from behind.
"And that leaves one. Are you supposed to be the strongest? Or were you expecting those amateurs to actually hurt me." The final cultist looks over the battlefield without expression, showing no reaction to the smouldering stone devouring his feet. "Your reputation precedes you, Aeryth the tower crusher. In fact, your strength may even be understated, given you didn't kill most of them." The distance closes, light from the sun unable to reach the cultist as he peers up at the behemoth. "What are the loaonila doing here? You've been quiet the past few years, so why the change in attitude?"
"The hour of reckoning nears. We still recall Vector's prophecy, forgotten by the fools of the central continent. Even those of you who hail from other domains are no better, having never bothered to learn of it to begin with." His arm lifts from behind his robe, reaching towards his chest with a languid tranquillity. Aeryth lunges forward, grasping his arm before anything can be done. "What are you trying to pull?" "Well... it wouldn't do to leave a mess now, would it?" He sprouts a wide grin.
Light bursts from the cultist's chest, vaporising his body near instantly as energy builds up around his position, condensing into a fine sphere as it prepares to burst. Grasping the sphere between both palms, Aeryth crushes it with enough force to crumple a city block, the subsequent explosion rocking the space between her hands with a small tremor leaking out to shake the nearby buildings. Fucking cultists.
Turning around, she surveys the damage. Walls of the surrounding buildings struggle to remain standing, either having been toppled by force or melted to the ground. The paved roads simply cut off into a cataclysm of rubble and igneous rock, and several injured assailants lay crippled and defeated, if not unconscious then groaning. All things considered, could have been worse. Still, Imma punch Kav in the jugular for this.