“Dungeon break!” The man cried. Half in alarm, half in excitement. What else could trigger the interest of 'free' adventurers so but the promise of loot? 'Lootable' monsters appeared so rarely, the ambient mana of the natural world was simply too low to breed them in great number. But an astral space was another story. Hence their attractiveness. The problem with this latest space was that it was too vast and dangerous. Many of them had gone without pay for several months, seeing a chest of gold charging towards them into one of the safest places on the planet.
The defenses in Aurora... Of all the adventurer cities, they were too prepared in their minds. Too strong to be breached by something as simple as a dungeon break. Aurora had handled thousands of monsters in a single go a dozen times before. This would be no different, free money.
“Dungeon break.” Girshan repeated. A lot less passionate than the other man who'd screamed it. He nodded to the others, and they reciprocated the gesture. “Reverse wedge. I'll take center. Yana on the right, Xavier left. Jura and Abe center and back. And...” He looked toward Tyr. “What do you want to do?” He asked.
“Me?” Tyr frowned.
Girshan resisted the urge to sigh, settling with a lowered eyebrow and a glare. “You're one of us. Either remain in the back strumming on that ridiculous lute of yours, or fight. What do you want to do?”
“What I always do.” Tyr smiled. It was an honest smile. So unburdened and light, his eyes rife with predatory anticipation.
“And what's that?” Girshan asked.
“Hit things as hard as I can.” Tyr replied simply. “Until they stop moving.”
There wasn't much more to say. The dull red of the astral rift flared into an azure blue to signify its reopening. Something that should not happen between 'switches'. But it did. The fog had seen to it, forcing the monsters into a horde that came through the portal all at once. Tyr didn't even know what he was hitting. He'd feel resistance for a brief moment before being forced to turn to a new threat. A tide of red flesh and twisted monstrosities that bubbled and burned under the unique radiation of his own world. Throwing them into a howling mass of pained rage.
Someone shouted at the rear before their choking cry was ended with a dull snap. Raptid jaws clamped about his neck. Tyr recognized the voice after a moment of contemplation as the Dynasty member that had announced the break. So excited to see it happen, life ended before even a minute passed. But that was the way of adventurers. To live fast and hard. These republic bred mercenaries were simply unused to the dangers of it. Living under such a uniform support system they weren't prepared for the reality of the struggle.
COME ON! Tyr's mouth split into a smile so wide that it became painful. Chopping with both hands, ignoring injuries and diving into the thickest parts of the fight. They stumbled, these monsters, and it allowed him to plant himself right in front of the gate and just keep swinging. Bathing in the influx of spira while the others supported him from the rear. Like a true berserker, wading through the mess of it and blending any enemies that came too close.
Jura's hand moved in a blur, sending two arrows per second into the mass, eyes alight with fire. Pulling on every resource she had and chugging various alchemical concoctions to give her that which she didn't. Yana was a tornado of whistling steel. Xavier was just steel. A bulwark to support Girshan in his position of soaking up as much damage as possible. Abe drew them back. Inching them toward the rear bit by bit. The only one thinking in this scenario. Dragging them away from the carnage of adventurers leaping into the jaws of death and whirling mass of monster limbs. Something wasn't right, and he could feel it. There were too many all at once. An astral gate had a capacity, and these monsters were far exceeding it.
He wasn't the only one to see it, though. The guards balked at the sight for but a brief moment before turning back and screaming into their handheld communication devices. Like a barrel made for transiting etheric energy, for that's what it was, the walls of the tunnel came to life. Veins of energy pulsing through the walls, mana pillars coming online. A shower of pure etheric energy rained from the ceiling, piercing through skin, bone, and hide. Avoiding the adventurers and flaying the monsters attempting to breach the sanctity of their city. But it wasn't enough. They needed more time. Even the builders who had constructed this ancient redoubt seemingly had no answer for this.
Tyr saw it too, but he didn't care. He was too lost in it. Standing in the breach with his bladed auronite club-cleaver combination, twirling about in a tornado of blood. Pulling another hatch from his dimensional ring when his original had warped courtesy of his fanatic swings. But even he, for all his ignorance to consequence could see where this was headed. And rapidly, too. There were so many monsters. All crammed into the same space, enraged by the pain they felt upon entering this world. Pain that was only exacerbated when they came in contact with the deterrence wards.
It brought him back to those days. He'd been fighting, always in some kind of danger but never anything that truly pressed him. There was a need to feel that kind of adrenaline, Tyr had been bored for so long. Every opponent was one that would tire long before he was dead. These were exactly powerful monsters – but they were making up for that in raw quantity. His heart beat so fast he was giddy with excitement, losing himself in the bloodshed. Feeling the energy pull away from broken bodies he'd left behind until he was nearly buried in them. People in the rear screaming 'loot' as fast as they could to ensure the adventurers weren't trapped by corpses.
Then, suddenly and without warning, everything froze. Not in the quiet, raindrops hanging in the air sort of way – or the silence of battle as two heroes engage in a place above the field. But an eerie chill that seemed to vibrate the air. Monsters ceased their movements, becoming silent, frozen to such a point that no moisture could exist inside of them. Turning to dust in their dozens with barely audible whispers floating through the air just out of reach of his senses. Icy floes began to whirl through the air, a torrent of frost colored energy smashing against the astral gate and walling the entire end of the hallway in a thick sheet of solid water. Several feet thick, with a chill pervading it that sapped at the strength of all those around. Those few monsters who managed to avoid the grisly fate continued fighting, but with their numerical advantage lost, they stood no chance against the wall of blades, arrows and bolts, and spells that fell on them.
“What the hell was that?” Jura turned about, covered from head to toe in the remains of the beasts they'd just been fighting. Of all those present, even the mages in the rear, Tyr was the only one who'd managed to remain clean. Blood pooled and ran off him like oil. The more solid bits were met with an undulating and very uncomfortable shifting of the armor as it exercised some sort of kinetic control to rid itself of foreign matter. Tyr passed her a cleansing cloth with a sorry face, there wasn't much more he could do for her unless she wanted to get soaked. His elemental mastery wasn't such that he could wet and dry her.
Heh.
“Level four ritual class metamagic.” Tyr replied, easily able to see through the spell to the mana component within. An incredibly complex lattice of arrays for identification, targeting, and freezing not the monsters themselves but the blood inside of them. Some kind of flash freeze... It was very impressive. “Maybe level five, actually. Is there an archmage here?” Nobody answered, but they didn't need to. Five mages had joined hands in the rear to create a spell stronger than its individual casters. But in the words of Jartor, those words he would repeat and repeat until Tyr was sick of hearing them, magic always had a cost. If one tried to reach beyond their station, bad things could happen. “Ah.”
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Two mages were dead, withered and mummified husks, their anima had attempted to balance out the disparity of their mana reservoir emptying itself so fast. Forcefully pulled through the ritual until there wasn't much left to give. So it'd taken the anima too. One was near death, and the final two had dead eyes, a waking unconsciousness on them as they were dragged away by their fellows. Knights of the Blue Rose. Or perhaps mages of the Blue Rose. Tyr had no idea whether or not the greater order were all knights or not. Then again, he probably should put his mind toward something else.
Yana stared at them in horror. All shriveled and old before their time, even those who had lived, with gray streaks visibly settling in their hair. “Will they be alright?”
Tyr shook his head. “No. That one that's all balled up on the ground is most certainly dead, unless there's a cardinal from the house of light around, which there is not. Even if there was, I'm not sure if they could help. The two that lived... It's hard to say. Dumping all of your mana like that can break your mind. It takes the mana first, then it starts to rip through your anima, if said energy is taken from the wrong part of the body... A catatonic state is sometimes the best possible outcome.”
There was certain knowledge he couldn't bandy about. It didn't use spira. Regular spells and rituals couldn't, but it could 'damage' it. Tyr watched as the young woman being dragged away, or not her – but rather her body or soul. Some component of the etheric energies within. Tried to fight against the damage done to it. Almost certainly she'd live the rest of her life as a vegetable. Even if she did recover, she'd be mad. In near constant pain. Death was a mercy for these people.
“Why would they do that?” Jura lacked Yana's aversion to observing the suffering of others, but her lips curling in disgust spoke more toward her consideration of mages. “Stupid.”
“You shouldn't say that.” Xavier hissed. “That was a noble sacrifice. They saved us.”
Tyr breathed out, tired from the melee. Not from physical exertion. None of the monsters possessed the force necessary to truly flag at him. But rather he'd absorbed too much energy. The kind of nausea that came after too heavy a feasting, a headache from the drink and an overfull belly from the meal. Except he was starved, too, which exacerbated the discomfort he felt. “You'll find that mages tend to lean toward arrogance. I'm quite certain they had no intention of sacrificing themselves. They probably thought they were ready for it. But they weren't, and that's that.” He coughed. Unaffected by the carnage around him unlike near everyone in the place. Intestines and smashed organs decorated the walls, floor, and ceiling. Hanging in macabre icy crystals like some sort of grisly take on modern art. “They did save us though.”
“Saved us, you mean.” Abe rested his hand on Yana's shoulder, seeking to provide some comfort. “You were quite vicious there. I can see the merit of fighting in such a way, unable to be injured with any sort of permanence.”
Resisting the urge to chuckle amid the claustrophobic atmosphere, so many adventurers running about and seeing to their friends both living and dead, Tyr replied. “Kind of boring, isn't it?”
“What is?” Abe asked, eyebrow raised. “That was certainly more excitement than I thought I'd see in my lifetime. Dungeon breaks are very rare, and I've never heard of one quite so intense as this.” He waved his hand about to indicate the greater state of the hall. Smashed stones and barriers where their enchantments couldn't keep up with the incoming assault.
“Not that.” Tyr exhaled. “All I have to do to win practically any fight is just wait until something gets tired. I need no real defense. No planning. Half of the time, no skill. I feel that I've been unable to really improve because nothing is a struggle. There's no conflict or suspense because I cannot die. I know it sounds funny to take such a gift and look at it that way, but it's true.”
Girshan used an enchanted brush to rid his wild mane of filth, the bristles carrying away solids and liquids alike, letting them fall to the floor dried and wilting. “It's a gimmick, but it works well enough. A struggle is what it is based on your perception of it. Looked to me like you were struggling as much as anyone. Your improvement is up to you, don't use your unique abilities as an excuse. Many mages learn to fight in hand-to-hand despite the fact that they'll never equal a purpose built warrior. Because that's being smart. Be smart.” He shrugged, Xavier nodding in faux understanding at these words of wisdom.
“Uh...” Tyr cringed. “Thanks...?”
“Don't mention it.”
He felt a strong hand slap against his back. So many of these adventurers did that. The 'back slapping' custom among them that made Tyr uncomfortable. Fortunately, it was just Benny. “Good fight, eh? Never seen anything like that.”
“Me neither.” Tyr replied. “How did things turn out?”
“No losses. Your team?” Benny asked. If anything, he looked better than he had before. He and Tyr were in the thick of it as the more sturdy melee combatants, further than they should've been – in truth. The fighting had given him some sort of outlet to relieve their frustrations or some such.
“...My team?” Tyr asked, furrowing his brow and frowning. “I don't have a--”
“We're fine.” Abe answered with a smile. “Physically, that is. I'd venture to guess we're all a little skewed mentally, but that is likely to be of benefit in a situation like this.”
Tyr frowned, realizing he hadn't exactly considered them a part of his team. In terms of their time together, he'd spent more of it with them in close proximity than most other people in his life. They were in the rift for weeks, working together in one way or another. Jura made sure to rub his perceived rudeness in his face. Or rather, the back of his head, which seemed a perfect size for the hand that smacked it. He winced, but he understood. Or at least, he thought that understanding was what a normal person would do in a situation like this.
“You're one of us, now.” Jura smirked. “Big boss man.”
“Don't call me that.” Tyr felt even more tired than before. “Girshan is your leader. Don't put that kind of responsibility on me.”
Yana only shrugged. “We never really had a leader. Our master forced us to develop tactics by Krieg academy standards, but we all have an equal say. Technically, the man you killed was our leader. By right, or something.”
“Wait, you killed a guy?” Benny asked, suddenly interested.
“Yeah.” Tyr replied. “But this is a rush. You barely know me. Why would you follow me? Isn't that an insult to Girshan?”
“Not at all.” Girshan replied. They were all huddled up. Benny's team mingling with their own. Kirk and Xavier were playing some sort of game, while Jura and the unnamed half orc began rolling dice carved from the ivory tusks of some creature. A boar perhaps, maybe the tusks of male orcs in all honesty. It was eight sided and depicted animals or vague hieroglyphics of landscape features rather than numbers. Abe spoke in hushed tones and animated body language with the sole human member of Benny's current group. A woman and a mage, who seemed just as 'eccentric' as the old Telurian. “I've never been much for leadership. I was a gray fang, or in your military structure – a sergeant. I like to fight, but organizing people is not my style. Otherwise, I'd have been promoted in the military and killed along with most of the rest of them.” He spat, and Tyr knew why. A sudden and unwelcome memory of Ajax and his dishonor, earned simply by living through the conflict.
“Pay us.” Girshan continued. “And we'll fight. Until we've something better to do. How's that sound?” He looked to the others. Jura just nodded, not looking up from her game. Abe was clearly not listening, but wouldn't object regardless. Xavier beamed in acceptance, and Yana enthusiastically agreed to the proposal.
“That does remind me.” She frowned. “Do the weapons you gave us count as wages, or do we get a paycheck. Weekly, biweekly? Do we have to pay republic tax? What about insurance or health benefits?” She continued rambling on, finger to her lips. Tyr refrained from listening further, he already knew it'd only bring the pounding in his head to a crescendo he wasn't quite prepared for. “Do you offer investment advice? What amenities can we expect from employment?” Stuff like that...
“I'd like to hear about that guy you killed.” Benny interjected. “How'd you do him?”
Tyr ignored that too, glaring at the kijin and shaking his head slowly.
“And so it is settled. We can discuss our terms of contract at a later date.” Girshan growled. “But for now, I think we've got bigger problems to worry about.”
That sheet of ice that had protected them began to crack. Slowly, but inevitably, it'd all begin again.