Oscar pounded his fist against the door. It wouldn’t budge, there was most likely a crate or a barrel of something on top of the door, making no room for it to move. He wailed on the door until his hands bled from it. The screams from outside only got worse and worse. He felt he was useless. He was useless.
The fighting lasted for the rest of the day. Oscar eventually stopped trying to get through the door, and trying to think his way through it, after hours he couldn’t think of anything that was actually realistic. His best idea was to use the broom in the corner to knock over whatever is on the other side of the door, however, the gap wasn't wide enough for the broom handle to fit through.
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Oscar eventually collapsed into sleep after hours and hours of screaming, until his vocal cords were shot, and then kept screaming some more. He woke up to the unmistakable sound of monsters dying, the sound getting closer to the bunker he was hiding in.
He was terrified that it wasn’t a person on the other side of the door, that it was a monster. Until a deep booming voice—one that seemed to belong to one of the heroes from a fable one of his parents would read to him when he was young—said: “There’s a survivor over here”. Oscar heard a large creaking sound as whatever was on the door was lifted off, and it was opened. Oscar ran out of the cellar before being caught by the adventurer in one of his arms. Oscar was not a slow kid, he had been raised to be a hunter for a while now. However the adventurer’s arm was as unmoving as the door had been.
The adventurer couldn't let an introduction pass before Oscar was in a mad dash to enter his house.
“My name is Rodrick,” the adventurer said before following the boy, hearing a scream coming from the building. Rodrick picked up the pace, getting to the doorway before Oscar could react, he was on the grass in front of his house. Eyes wide and hand to his mouth his reaction was a cacophony of emotions swelling inside him, rage, terror and anguish all boiling inside him like a pot about to spill over. Rodrick then put himself in between Oscar and the things inside his house. Four small monsters with chattering fangs and round bodies were eating some sort of meat inside, but Rodrick knew what a dead human looked like.
Rodrick closed the door behind him as he entered the building.
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The sun had begun setting and the shadows of the woods grew long. Oscar's small village was in the middle of a clearing, or perhaps the clearing had been made to accommodate the growing village’s needs. As it stood Oscar's house was on the edge of the forest and the town.
The funeral rite in eastern Drascus was called the Old Water ceremony. You prepare a pyre, and pour alcohol and water on and into it, before preparing a bundle of various flowers, and other plants, some of the plants held symbolic meaning of protection, while others were supposed to be the flowers the dead liked in life. The fire was to help separate the soul from the body, while the plume of smoke along with the flowers were meant to protect the departed through their journey. If the dead had a New Water Knife then that was to be placed in the dead's arms. The wood and twine burning away, leaving nothing but the rock as a memento.
Oscar’s mother’s pyre was not as bad as he thought it would be. The adventurer that freed him was shockingly willing to help. “Tell me about her,” Rodrick interrupted. “You’re not supposed to talk during this part, tales are to be shared after the body is gone.” Oscar added. After the ceremony was complete, Rodrick asked the same question before being answered by Oscar. “I truly don’t know, I spent so much of my life looking up to a father that wasn’t there, that I ignored the mother that was. It only hit me now how much my culture hates women. The only keepsake we can keep of the dead are knife blades from a specific ceremony, only men can do the ceremony, meaning only men can be remembered, women are to be forgotten.”
That's when they saw the smoke, a lot more than just what happened with Oscar's mother, as if the city center was on fire.
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Oscar ran full speed, Rodrick was walking beside him, yet Oscar was the one struggling to catch up. When they finally reached the source of the smoke, Oscar saw 4 dark figures against the fiery backdrop, 3 strangers and the one in the middle, considerably shorter than the rest, the one also shouting something. Amon began saying “I don’t remember the exact Old Water Ceremony, but I think it was something like this” two of the strangers had flaming projectiles in their hands. Oscar shouted at them to put the fire out but the other two only ever launched more flame into it. Oscar hurriedly charged at Amon and tackled him to the ground. Or at least tried too, Amon had the Might Essence, and used his currently solitary ability to become unmovable to anything Oscar could do.
The strangers holding the projectiles seemed to notice Oscar first but didn't actually do anything to stop him. The last one didn't notice him at all until the magic was cast, only giving him a sideways glance before returning to their book. Oscar Essentially tried to tackle a flagpole so his shoulder is pretty hurt while he’s lying on the dirt at Amon’s feet. He turned to Rodrick and realized he wasn’t attacking any of the people, so they were likely his compatriots. He stumbled off the ground in an awkward way.
He hated Amon and his father, but he would probably need to ask questions before fighting him. So he started with one.
“Why are you burning down your house?” Oscar asked, Amon then answered “I can’t remember the Water ritual or thing, but I remember it involves fire. So I told them to gather the bodies and burn the house down around them”
“Oh my gods, that's so wrong, can you put out the fire, you need the actual water part of the old water ritual and the herbs, With a mass grave like this one you don't need individual personnel flowers, only the ones for protection” Oscar explained while the fire was being put out, seemingly by whatever effect originally caused it, one of the strangers extended their hand and the same flame that sprouted from it now receded back into it, making their veins glow bright like magma.
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The group quickly organized to pick the right flowers and get enough water into the slightly burnt ruins; they ended up putting a few spirit coins into a flask before turning it upside down; it never seemed to run out of water. Oscar began wondering why these people were helping him. These Funeral rites meant nothing to them, not in the long term, but it seems like right now it’s the only thing they care about. Oscar understood Althea’s admiration for adventurers although He still didn’t understand why they were helping.
One of the new adventurers approached Oscar, He was wearing a scarf above his nose, he was tall but he was kind of hunched over. The most absurd part of his ensemble was behind him, 5 tails flowed from his lower back, they were made of what looked like black glass. Or maybe a thick miasma. Everything about him, from his hair to his outfit was as dark as the cellar Oscar was trapped in; save for his eyes, his eyes were yellow, and had slits in the middle rather than pupils.
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“They are members of your pack, we are simply giving the gift that we wish we had when we lost members of our pack” The wolfish stranger said “All of you have lost your families?”Oscar asked “Not our families, not all of us, our friends, our lovers, our companions, My name is Fenrir, I wish we were meating on better terms” Fenrir said. “Why are you all here, we don't have any money left” Oscar accused. “We are here to guard one of our own, that one” Fenrir pointed to the one that ignored Oscar at first. “That one is Onwyn Ortas, Magic, Renewal, and Vast Resulting in the Mystic Confluence” Fenrir continued on pointing to the woman with magma in her veins “She is Calida. Her essences are Fire, Potent, and Magic Getting the Inferno Confluence” He then shifted his gaze to Rodrick “That is Rodrick Liamson as you’ve met, he fills the frontline fighter role to a tee, Might, Shield, and Mirror giving him the Guardian Confluence” Fenrir said, before running off, not giving Oscar any opportunity to ask about his essences.
Once the fire had been going he decided to ask Calida about him. “Oh him, yeah he’s got the uhm… I think it was Wolf, Moon and Myriad, giving him the Pack Confluence” Calida answered
Oscar then asked “He never answered me why you guys were here, wasn’t this a normal monster wave?”
“Oh lords no, it only lasted one day, and it really only affected this town, oh also the sky does not turn red” The last Monster wave was about 5 years ago, when Oscar was about 11, according to some people, it was the largest Monster Wave ever. Oscar's Blood ran cold, Monster waves had happened normally for the longest time, Every decade or so for a few weeks the rate at which monsters coalesced and the strength of those monsters increased dramatically. This had never happened before, some monster waves had been shorter, but never lasting only a day.
“Sure it was weaker, and it lasted a day, but it still destroyed a whole town, only two people survived” Oscar knew intrinsically that lots of people had died, he could smell the blood, and could feel the souls still trapped in the bodies before they were burned. But he didn't understand the full length of it until Calida said that. Oscar had been burying it, ignoring it, distracting himself with the proper rites for the dead. Until now, the weight of everyone's death weighing on him, He knew his mother was dead, but his father? He could still be out there somewhere. Was that even his father that day? He certainly didn’t act like him, but he smelt, sounded and looked like him.
“-ock knock, anyone home?” Calida asked. It took a second for Oscar to realize he had fallen to the ground muttering to himself. As he looked up Calida was gazing back at him. Calida’s eyes were like flaming coals, and her hair was a dark red and slightly glowing the longer parts of her hair became more of an orange.
Oscar still hadn’t talked in a while so he just said “It finally hit me that everyone is dead”
“Maybe not everyone, there were a few survivors that ran away to Shran” Calida told him, while pointing down the only path out of the village
For the first time in days, Oscar had a hope to see someone he knew. As he began moving towards his own home, packing for the few days travel. Calida said “Make sure to check the hospitals-”
“And the morgues” Onwyn added unhelpfully. Amon tried to convince the adventurers to bring him further into the woods, but that didn’t work out very well. Amon eventually decided to help Oscar look for survivors in Shran.
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With the two living civilians out of their way, the Adventurers left the now burnt down town and went farther into the woods. Rodrick Led the way, chopping down trees with a sword just as large as he was, which is no small feat, considering that he was a bulky and tall man, he towered over the people around him by at least his foot. The sword was summoned by one of his Guardian abilities, getting stronger the more damage he takes, his glimmering armor was also summoned, this time by his shield ability. Following him closely was Onwyn, the weakest of the group, the newest addition to them, and the reason they were specifically asked to come here. When they worked in the magic society they had a specialization in ritual magic and its effects on different magical densities; most ritual mages had a basic understanding of it, specifically to be able to cast their spells in any mana density, but they were one of the people that understood it best in the world.
Taking up the rear was Fenrir and Calida side by side. Fenrir had the best perception of anyone on the team, and could easily cover all of the group with his sense of smell and hearing alone, to say nothing of his aura detection. The group was making a steady pace through the thick forest before Fenrir stopped them all saying “Something up ahead, strong, I’d say lower Silver rank, terrible aura control. I’ll lure it to the clearing” The four adventurers were all in the upper end of bronze rank as well aside for Onwyn who was in the middle of Bronze, but four on one wasn't a bad deal. Fenrir disappeared before anyone could object, it was smarter to fight in a clearing anyways.
The three remaining altered their path to the clearing they could spot, and made it at the same time Fenrir did, being chased by a monster. The strange creature was well over 12 feet tall, Its body looked like a monster and a tree were formed in the same spot, its right arm being made of one large tree branch, ending with a large stone, making a makeshift hammer. Makeshift was a strong word, considering the rock was easily as large as any of the heroes, including Rodrick. As a fire user, seeing a wooden enemy was Calida’s best possible situation.
Calida extended her arms over her head, pointing her palms outwards to the creature. Flames sprouted from under her skin and fired out at the beast, a few dozen embers launched from her hand and arms before gathering on the creature, it seemed as if the flames gathering had a conscience, a will, her companions knew this was true, as it was her companion, 5 or 6 different creatures made of living fire. The elementals never harmed the Woodland Guardian, until Calida uttered “Feel the wrath of the inferno, as your defenses crumble before its fury.” When the incantation was finished, the flames began affecting the hulking beast, but only slightly.
The other three had known the fire wouldn’t be very effective. So they began fighting as well, Fenrir’s hands started coalescing the same dark smoke his tails were made of, forming giant claws that reached below his knees, He then started jumping around the battlefield looking for any weak spots on the creature to exploit. Normally a creature with armor would have to have some gaps in it for joint flexibility, but apparently that wasn't necessary when its flesh was the armor. He waited for any opening to apply his pressure, but for now was content on using his Pack abilities to make his teammates stronger.
Rodrick covered his allies in defensive bubbles before rushing in, using his giant sword to lob off as much wood as possible, he began attacking the branch arm that was holding the hammer rock attempting to hinder its destructive abilities.
Onwyn knew their role in this team, they were to stand back and attempt to hinder the monsters movement, and call out everything they could, openings, attacks being made, more monsters approaching. Their abilities were mostly focused on battlefield control, and even had an ability to communicate wordlessly with their compatriots.
The Woodland Guardian was a hulking creature, even the thinnest part of its arm holding the hammer was as thick as a birch tree’s truck. Onwyn saw that the creature was reeling back its hammer and flooding it with magic, they warned Rodrick but his reaction time wasn’t fast enough. He got hit clean on his blind side, while he had protected his teammates he left himself wide open, a bad habit of his. The silver ranked creature hit him dead on, launching him to a nearby tree, Fenrir jumped in his path and attempted to slow him down before he impacted a tree.
Onwyn quickly casted a whole suite of their renewal abilities on Rodrick however he was already unconscious. People often forget about Rodrick’s Mirror Essence abilities, but the Woodland Guardian wouldn’t. The instant before impact Rodrick cast one of them. Damaging the Woodland Guardian from the inside out, its own might and magic turned against it. The fight to the center of the woods wouldn’t be as easy as the heroes thought.
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Under a darkened, cloudy sky, a figure entered a dingy bar through the back door, surrounded by a few other cloaked figures. The figures entered through the back and sat across a man in a booth “Give me a report of the initial experiment Kintsi” the man that entered from the back said as he sat down, his guardians standing above the booth watching the man named Kintsi. “It went better than we initially thought, it’s barely usable in its current state, but for the scale your client wants, we’ll need an extra couple months, and much more funding” Kintsi said, a crooked smile crawled across his face, never reaching his eyes, his pale skin pulled taut over his face as if his face wasn’t his own, and was simply placed on his head.