Reuben Frost
“That’s so metal,” he whispered in awe.
Under Molly’s command, a metallic skeleton smashed into the side of a demon crane. Right to the ground, the two avians tumbled, entangled. The living one was stunned and squawked in surprise. Meanwhile, the dead one continued to lash out, unaffected by the change in orientation. It was a peculiar enough sight that the other birds froze at the sight. That gave the scout plenty of distraction to slip into position.
Stealth and scouting were unarguably useful, but Reuben felt somewhat limited. Pigeonholed to that one avenue of use. Perhaps even a dash of shame. Unsatisfied with the value he had to offer. In battle, the scout felt far too useless. He had been working hard to be more of an asset to the Sixty.
This fight was an opportunity to show off his new developments. It was time to present to the world that he wasn’t limited to using Mana only for plain enhancement. Reuben was excited. He raised his mace, unseen, and noticed beneath a demon crane. His eyes saw through the world and via Mana identified weakness. The knowledge of how each could be exploited was clear to him. The information ran through his head as he narrowed it to a spot on the leg ahead. A red target glowing only to him.
Power surged through the mace and seemed to connect to the targeted spot. The scout knew with precision how to swing for the desired effect. He swung, yet had already swung in his mind. This moment was only following in the wake of his afterimage. Given time to observe, Reuben could guarantee a devastating blow.
The sharpened edges of the mace struck the leg with a solid thunk. There was the faintest hint of metal colliding on metal under a mainly wet sound. It seemed an impotent blow that went unnoticed by the demon crane. Reuben’s confidence wavered for a moment. When he took a step toward safety, his expectation was triggered. An air-snapping crack ran up the bird’s leg. The monster screamed as the limb raggedly crumpled.
He took off to escape the impact zone.
A wild clawing broke his escape route and the scout was forced to evade. His cloaking dropped at the frantic movements, but nothing seemed to have time to notice. Reuben just kept moving. Leaping with a surge of relief as he passed behind the line of charging melee fighters. The Sixty didn’t waste any time taking advantage of his handy work. The demon crane was solidly grounded and wouldn’t be getting up. Even if they gave it a chance, which they weren’t.
The scout swung his mace and whistled a long pleased tone. His eyes passed over the battlefield looking for the next opportunity. Mana curled around him, the air twisting into a haze then fading to transparency. Reuben went out scouting again, mace in hand.
Vihaan Tavade
Sunlight at his fingertips, a warm and gentle thing that would become terrible at command. The ranger pulled the sunbeam string back as he aimed. Each arrow of fury was meticulously formed to surge force and destroy his wish. To sear and burn all in its wake. The sun’s power could not be denied.
A demon crane curved its neck back for a strike and Vihaan released the string. His bolt of sun-kissed flames scoured across the battlefield. The targeted bird flinched at the hurling light. That made the hit all the more certain as a small sun briefly dawned. A shot well done in his eyes. He allowed himself a moment to smile proudly at the effect.
Then it was back to work. There was a fight going on.
He did not mind at all fighting for his life. There was definitely a thrill there, but it was mostly the seriousness. The straightforwardness of this world was comforting. Effort and skill truly paid off in The Pit. From whence they came, power was a flimsy, subjective thing. Being the best didn’t always mean anything. Often nothing at all. There were too many people who mattered that weren’t the best. They did not have the experience to appreciate what it took nor respected those more skilled than them. Those sort, if anything, feared the talented.
After all, their power was only received by an act of birth. The reasons to be concerned were many. Ultimately, the undeserving protected each other from the true rising stars. It was almost impossible to take down the status quo. Sadly this had been an iron rule. Too many good people were damned by it. Left to rot in obscurity.
This world was different. Because of Mana, effort was rewarded with actual power. There would be no question of the deserving and undeserving. Power in The Pit was self-evident. Even leadership could be recognized. Did not Malachi gain an extra avenue of power because of their faith in him? Vihaan rejoiced. The new world was good. All would be rewarded as they deserved.
As would he be acknowledged by the world for his efforts. Vihaan practiced every day and read every day. He made time for fun, but most of his time was scheduled for pushing limits. Talent had never been anything the ranger seemed to have. Except perhaps being able to easily put his nose to the grinder. That meant a lot here. This was why he listened intently to Harken’s sermons. This place was a gift. Effort meant something.
A demon crane assaulted the Sixty’s dome from the sky. Leaping high into the air on conjured wings of angry red energy. He immediately ticked to the soaring monster and fired. Raging sunbeams blasted into the left wing one after the other. Doing no direct damage to the beast, but effectively dispersing the construct. Instead of a devastating blow upon their defenses, it painfully dropped onto the barrier. Causing more harm to itself in the end.
Vihaan turned his efforts elsewhere. The Sixty were already blanketing the monster from his sight. The sun’s fury would be better used elsewhere.
Allen MacIssac
“You know our party leader is mad, right?” hissed Amiyah as she ducked behind him and shot at some unseen danger. He was focusing on forming a spell, but still chuckled at his friend. Why disagree when denying the truth was a fruitless effort?
“Quite mad,” agreed the fire mage. A ball of flame rose slowly from his fingertips. Condensed flames that looked liquid roiled against an unseen barrier of will. “Sorta his charm don’t you think? Can’t argue with the results though!”
“Until he gets us killed with his antics,” countered the ranger as she shot some distant target and grinned at the results.
“I didn’t see you hesitate to run after him with the rest of us,” mused Allen. Like a conductor, he was maneuvering the ball of flames slowly over the battlefield. Careful control had to be maintained to keep the spell from triggering early. This was all manual.
The ranger scoffed as she shifted to his other side, “Of course! It was stupid, but I don’t want him to die! Or you guys… just it could have gone very badly.”
“This place does encourage that sort of thing,” commented Allen absently. “I can’t say how much help peeling off one bird did, but hey we took one down. That’s something. Hell, the pressure let me and Analia figure out the dual casting again.”
“Which is wonderful, but doesn’t absolve his recklessness,” sighed the ranger.
“No one said that it does.”
“Then why are you so dismissive of it? Can’t you talk to him about this, or something!”
Allen laughed and apologized before answering, “Do you think Phelian hasn’t been talked to about rushing out there at every opportunity? Hector does that like every single day! Julia and Molly have taken a swing at it on several occasions. Hell, Malachi gave it a go once too, and that was an interesting conversation to watch. But, none of it made a difference. For a very simple reason. That’s the man’s instinct. Nothing is going to stop that.”
“So you’re saying, it’s pointless,” said Amiyah sourly. “We just have to accept that Phelian is going to throw us into danger and there is nothing to be done about it.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“You could leave.”
“No… I don’t want to do that.”
“Well, short of that, then no there’s nothing to be done. We’re gonna do some crazy stuff trying to make his insanity workout. Personally, I kinda enjoy the ride.”
Amiyah paused in the middle pulling her bowstring back. Her eyes caught his with an incredulous look. “You enjoy running into the jaws of death? I work with mad men.”
Smiling, on the edge of laughing, Allen offered, “Well there is Kai.”
“Yeah, 'cause the weirdo that’s in love with Vivian has unquestionable sanity.”
“Good point,” he admitted. “Guess you're stuck in the madhouse.”
“O’ yeah.”
The ball of fire was in position now. It hovered high over a demon crane that had turned to hit and run tactics. The avian monster had been causing havoc on the parties pushing out to slay the others. This bird alone was prolonging the fight by disrupting and stopping the final blows. Allen was determined to remove the threat.
In the distance, as planned, a star of white flame flashed. On the opposite flank was a sudden wall of disturbing darkness. The bird paused, pinned as it looked for an escape. It was enough for Allen to unfurl his weapon. Silently, the barrier containing the fire expanded and then opened face down like a clam. Lava-like heat rained down on the stopped monster. Pouring over as physical goo that couldn’t be easily dispersed by magic resistance.
Not a finishing blow, but the setup for one. This demon crane wouldn't be running around anymore.
He looked away from his handy work and looked the ranger over. “You know, Amiyah… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much before. Usually, you are just all whispers with Analia.”
Very matterfactly she stated in reply, “Why talk if you have nothing to say?”
“Sooo, you only have something to say when there is something to complain about?”
“Huh…” frowned Amiyah. “I’d really like to dispute that.”
Leon Machi
He felt like Atlas, holding the world on his shoulders. His power held up a sanctuary against the destruction outside. Should his faith waver, so would the protection of his barriers. It was a joy and a burden to play this part for the Sixty. Every impact and attack on the dome reverberated through him. Granting knowledge of where concentration was needed and when harm had been prevented. The barrier mage stood straining, but pleased.
At the appearance of the demon cranes, Leon had stitched together the barriers into one system. Using them to quickly cast his own complex barrier. He hadn’t quite snatched control away, but his intent had been felt through his Mana. There was an unspoken agreement that the barrier mage had overall command of the defensives when the Sixty fought together. Only Malachi could override him. Not that there was any reason to. He was spectacular at barriers.
Once the rotating hexagonal dome was in place, the other casters recast their barriers as extra reinforcement. Double layering where the birds loitered outside. It meant that the pecks and claws strikes were effortlessly nullified. When the monsters began to use their malevolent red energy, that was another story. Those felt like hot knives in his skull as they cut through the barriers. An entirely new frequency of energy. He was completely unprepared for it. The screams of his comrades spurred him to fix that.
Luckily the Sixty had pushed out at this point. That bought him time to modify, but mostly kept the demon cranes away. Even with his tweaks, Leon was uncertain how effective the change would be. The only way to know for certain was if the birds attacked again. He needed more experience with the energy to be confident in the protection. Testing was necessary.
“Then, let’s be a little defensively aggressive,” chuckled Leon.
One part of him maintained the complex working while the rest of him scanned the battlefield. At several points, the demon cranes were engaged. Leon stepped in to help. Picking moments that didn’t get in the way, but gave him data. Summoning circle barriers to trip up the monsters or blocking a strike someone was prepared to tank.
Each time the red light came in contact with the red glare, pain wracked his body. Searing slashes and stabs when it was beak or claw. Fiery waves washed over his body when a barrier was caught in a flaring of the malevolent aura. Yet each was a valuable morsel of experience. Every time he gleamed a little more about how to defend against the cursed light. Leon did not flinch from it, this was the best way to learn. Suffering for your friends is a worthy cause.
He spat blood to the side, ignoring the little dribble from his mouth. The barrier mage couldn’t bother with that. His limbs were weakening and his mind fading. Each episode of pain clouded everything, but he almost had it. The right configuration.
“Leon!” roared Soren. The marksman had been forced to stay within the bubble since the barrier mage was holding the center of the dome. He felt for his friend who didn’t enjoy the restraint. “Dude! What happened? Wait… don’t push yourself this hard!”
“Do not worry, my friend,” he smiled to soothe. His tone was perfectly calm. “I almost have it. Just a few more and my barriers will hold against that red glare.” Coughing up blood immediately after didn’t really help the argument.
“Fuck that, stop!” ordered Soren. “We’ve already got those birds on the ropes. Don’t kill yourself for this.”
“I’m not.” Two more waves passed over him and things blurred almost to darkness. Leon was on his knees now, but he didn’t stop analyzing. Another spit of blood, everything came together. Understanding kicked in. The barrier mage quickly added the improvements to the dome construct. With a little further modification and everything was now running on its own. He threw in most of his Mana for a long-lasting battery.
“Ahh got it!” cheered Leon before he passed out.
Nicole Jorgenson
The wind roared and lightning struck all around her, she was the heart of a storm. At her will, the air filled with violent electricity, and a roar was lost in the thunder, or became it. The demon cranes at first endured her fury. Those musky feathers diffused the static and were barely shifted by the wind. That angered her. Seeing her might be dismissed as a light breeze was infuriating.
Those damn birds didn’t even seem to notice the attack. She growled and reached for the inner tempest in her breast. Jorgenson’s heartsong answered the call. Words ready and waiting entered her mind. Blazed in memory like the first flash of lightning. The knowledge and understanding of the spell flooded her mind like the following rain. Her voice was the breaking of thunder as the thunderstorm broke above. The words were still alive and vibrant in the storm mage’s mind. Her spell continued in tandem with her rage.
“The Storm’s Heart Is Me,
Raging Within And Without,
Together We Are Fury,
Avatar Of The Storm!”
A burst of green wind flew from her chest and hatched in the sky. The details were simple, but an elemental copy of her floated in the air above. Jorgenson felt the strong bond between them. Complete and unbreakable. Her actions would be perfectly reflected in the avatar. They were one. She roared and it echoed forth from above.
Her copy leaped forward, a storm coming to life around it. Screaming straight at the closest demon crane. The winds buffeted the monster as a cyclone howled, the shears were ignorable at first until they began to scrape off feathers. Electricity began to blacken skin directly. Jorgenson poured power down the conduit to unleash point-blank into the avian’s beak. Not satisfied to simply hover above as the center of an effect, she urged the avatar forward. Lashing out in a laughing fury. Fists went flying as terrible strikes of lightning. The air crackled with building static.
Being a thing of air, the avatar was unharmed by the mundane retaliations of the bird. To the storm mage, they were little more than sensations of being pushed or at worst a discomfort around a heart of numbness. Every second the storm brewed itself bigger. The cyclone grew higher and wider until the demon crane was consumed within. Even the avatar became larger. Each punch of thunder hit harder and harder. When the monster turned to the red glare it was too late. Its power stung her through the connection, taking Jorgenson to her knees. Yet, the building crescendo was almost there. She need only endure a little more.
Electricity roiled through the storm clouds like a dynamo. At times passing through the two entrapped opponents. The frequency built and built until the air was thick with unstable power. When the field within the cyclone hit critical mass, Jorgenson guffawed as she released the storm upon the demon crane.
A pillar of pure electrical might exploded from the heart of the storm. Its white and yellow light burned the eyes of every monster and human. It brought illumination even into the depths of the dark forest. As the lightning died out, so did the circulating clouds. A hurricane veil pulled back to reveal a charred bird. Foul flesh sizzled on overheated metal bones. The red glow of heat was apparent through gashes and internal explosions of heat. It was a sick mess, but Jorgenson was pleased.
Woman and avatar shook with primal laughter.
A foe had resisted, but she had destroyed the beast in the end.
Roseline Jones
The world shimmered in the eyes of the seer. She looked upon the world and the Tapestry at the same time. All around her the strings of fate twirled on their fated paths. Her efforts to detect the monsters and guide the Sixty were proving to be elusive. Only flashes came to her, more intuitions than active sight. Those were still mighty useful to tip the scales, but the barrier to more frustrated her. All she could do was keep pushing against the fog. Keep watching, and hope that the revelation would come.
Her new book that came from the upgrade didn’t help much either. It had little to add so far. Reading made her feel like she had gotten the lessons too late. There were some expansions of understanding to gleam, but the mechanics of her ability were nothing new. Roseline had already blindly covered this ground. That her efforts had not been a waste was a small comfort.
She wanted more now. To see everything and be a guide that could speak with certainty. Too much was still a roll of the dice to her. Despite all the strings the seer could trace, some things were covered by a cloud of random chance. The ending of this battle was completely obscured to her. Complete defeat was one of a few strong endings weaving from this crossroads of possibility.
Never before had Roseline felt so blind. To see so much and then nothing was horrible.
I must see! she screamed at the Tapestry. Fate wove unbothered.