Amelia Cooper Level 33 Botanist Surveyor.
'I should have trusted my instincts!' she thought furiously to herself.
Her mind was whirling as she tried to take in the tumble of new information while simultaneously gaining some sort of control over the situation. She silently activated the mana in the RageSpore packet she had left at the mouth of the side street. She felt them greedily gobble up the stored energy and puff out an invisible mist of airborne fungi, that if inhaled, would produce confusion and extreme aggression in a target after thirty seconds. For better or worse, things would drastically change in half a minute.
She couldn’t believe after all of his supposed efforts to stop this infection he was already under the Corruption’s influence. She didn't know if he was a willing host or not, but the Marcellus’ Scion’s words had sent him into a frenzy. When she saw two black tear stains streaking from his dark watering eyes, all of her naive hope came crashing down around her.
“Jonathan!” She yelled, trying in vain to shock him out of Corruption's influence.
She fought back the familiar tang of regret and failure as she took in his complete lack of a reaction. Instead, a grizzly smile ripped across his lips and he stalked toward the vastly more powerful Quaestor like an absolute idiot. The Satyr seemed to relish the challenge and was happily showing off his arm which was infested with the same eldritch malady. She could tell that the tattoos were meant to somewhat contain the influence of the foreign substance, but that was a fool's errand. The magic of the seals was already clearly fraying, a fact underscored by the Quastor's barely contained manic aggression. With both of them caught up in whatever this was... she just might have a chance.
Another small sob sounded out from behind her and her grip on her Budded Staff tightened as she whipped her head back around towards the gnomish boy.
25 seconds.
She quickly checked her connection to the Strangle Vine cutting she had instructed each child to keep on their person. It weakly responded from Cog's pocket and she was thankful that she had renewed a connection to each cutting as the children were healed yesterday. She could channel Frenzied Growth into any willing plant as long as she maintained her mana imprint. A seed could hold the pattern for longer, but it would take too long to sprout for any immediate defense. So she had mangled her last two living specimens, subdividing them until almost no life potential was left. Then she had imbued and distributed them to each child, with a stern order not to lose the little length of vine.
Even as a cutting, this plant was notorious for its rapid growth, and with her Ability, it should be enough to protect him when the time was right. She had to wait until the disturbingly impassive Steward was distracted.
22 seconds.
The Marcellus scion reached into his robes and withdrew a sceptrum, a foolishly ornate weapon that had become fashionable amongst the young aristocrats in the last few years. This one, however, glowed with purple light as the smirking Quaester flourished it needlessly a few times before matching Jonathan’s approach with a proud forward step.
“I’m not surprised really. A brute like you would long for such comfort this substance offers.” He admonished the approaching human, flourishing his tattooed arm again.
“There are methods to tame its influence while still reaping the rewards… But I am sure you received your imbuement through something vulgar like a bite or scratch!” he wandered idly, before whipping forward with a sudden and open swing.
The opening attack wasn't particularly powerful or fast, but he was 26 levels above Jonathan’s Son of Flame class and it showed. Jonathan immediately reacted to the obvious swing but was simply too slow, and was going to at least receive a bludgeoning blow to his shoulder. Amelia winced in sympathy while maintaining her internal count.
Then Jonathan seemed to be jerked to the side, and Titus’s eyes widened in shock as the strange movement put him just out of reach of the swing.
17 seconds.
Jonathan wasted no time, showing an astonishing battle sense even under the effects of Corruption. His axe heads flared with an angry blue flame and he swung them at the Quaestor from opposite directions. Taking advantage of his opponent's off-balanced stance after the surprising missed swing.
The Quaestor easily batted away the clumsy attack with his glowing metal rod. But his smirk was gone. He did not like being surprised by such a weak opponent.
“You are quite the cockroach, aren't you? I am growing weary of your antics. Bug!” he spat, accentuating his final sentence with wide-sweeping strikes that Jonathan barely blocked. Even with the obvious telegraphing from the overconfident Marcellus, each blow knocked him further on his back foot until he was up against the side of the jutting storefront from which the ambushing party had emerged.
Jonathan felt the wood behind him, snarled, and lunged back at Titus recklessly. His face was a mask of animalistic fury, as he rejected the reality of his circumstances completely. The lunge was received full-on by the satyr with open arms and a smirk. Jonathan's full weight didn't move his opponent at all and the Quaestor brought down his sceptrum viciously on Jonathan’s back, causing an explosive grunt to sound from his violently emptied lungs.
“A tackle?” The Satyr sniggered, before lazily slamming another blow down on Jonathan’s back. The second blow knocked him to the ground, and Amelia's whole body tightened, willing the spores' effect to hurry.
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5 seconds.
“How positively juvenile.” He yelled before aiming a kick at Jonathan’s prone form, which once again slid just out of the way of the blow without any corresponding movement from Jonathan.
'It's the Blessing!' Amelia cheered internally.
Maybe it was burning out its influence to physically move him in his altered state, but Amelia was glad to see the Ability could operate with such nuance. While each of its influencing movements on Jonathan hadn’t been particularly preternatural in speed, they had been so inexplicably well-timed that the result was just enough to extract Jonathan from more bodily harm. It wasn't foolproof, but it would have to be enough.
Any second now those two goons should start showing symptoms.
“How unbelievably frustrating!” The Quaestor yelled, his voice cracking manically.
“Very well, if the child won't stay still for his discipline, I will have to hold him down. Chains of Judgement!” He shouted in a high-pitched whine. Spectral chains shining with purple light appeared around Jonathan’s wrists and yanked his arms upward and back until he was hanging from them with his back against the same wooden storefront.
Shouting could be heard from back down the street, and both of the thus far inactive guards flanking the fight looked over with suspicious expressions. The Quaestor didn't react, totally absorbed in his ‘lesson’, and to Amelia’s horror, he followed up his Ability by thrusting his Sceptrum through Jonathan’s shoulder, pinning him to the wood of the wall behind him.
Cog cried out in horror behind her and she whirled back around hoping to catch her chance at the distraction.
“There! That should help you keep still for the rest of our little game.” Titus screeched.
The guards maneuvered around him to get a better view of what was happening further down the street, where the two others had inexplicably begun to brawl. They were shouting obscenities at each other with their weapons lying forgotten on the street.
Amelia watched the steward carefully. As soon as he craned his neck around the boy to peer coldly down the street, Amelia flooded the cutting with mana.
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Jonathan Tillman Level 12 Son of Flame.
The boy's cry along with the shock of being impaled cut through the angry grey mist of hatred that had clouded Tilly's mind. He blinked rapidly as his vision cleared and he saw Titus's delighted expression leering at him. In an instant, the situation crashed into Tilly’s awareness along with a crushing shame that he had once again given in to Corruption's Influence.
Tilly saw Cog held tight by the Steward, with a knife drifting near his cheek and Amelia posed on the edge of her feet as the guards nearest to him started to move back down the street.
“Crete! What in Justice’s Upright Teets are you doing?” The guard on the right shouted back down the street toward the other two who seemed to have begun brawling. This was lost on Titus who was pulling back his fist in slow motion as he carefully took in Tilly's expression, almost shuddering in pleasure.
Over Titus' shoulder, Tilly saw Amelia lean forward on the balls of her feet as a faint green nimbus glow emitted from the staff. At the same time, something exploded out of Cog's pocket and Tilly smiled as Titus’ fist connected with his face, shattering his perception and causing stars to flare in front of his eyes.
“What’s so funny you Neanderthal!” Titus shouted as the green thing latched onto the Steward’s arm and rapidly grew up around his extremity. He shouted in surprise and Tilly was amazed to see Titus not even flinch as he leaned even closer to Tilly’s face, screaming,
“Answer Me!”
'It's not too late, I can make this right' He thought as a fatalistic joy flooded Tilly's heart.
He may have fucked up, but there was still a chance to get Amelia and Cog out of this. He took in a deep breath, kindling the Mana in his diaphragm and triggering excruciating pain throughout his over-drawn mana channels.
Titus leaned forward, expecting a plea for mercy or a cry of pain. Instead, Tilly exhaled, tearing open metaphysical wounds and releasing invisible flames all over the Quastor's face. Titus looked at him in confusion for a second as he tried to register the heat blooming on his face. Then his eyes clouded over and he released an animal-like scream.
The guards were at a loss. First turning in confusion towards the Steward's surprised shout, then back to the sound of their master’s screaming, not quite able to keep up with events. In the chaos, Tilly mercilessly headbutted Titus’s reeling form and Amelia's staff whipped around to bludgeon one of the guards on his head.
Titus Marcellus stumbled back, continuing to scream in agony as the writhing forms under his arm started to tear themselves free, attempting to escape the purifying flame. The Steward had dropped Cog in an effort to shift his knife to his unbound hand, and Amelia followed up her blow to the first guard by whipping her hand out of another pocket and flinging dust in the second guard's face. His thick shortsword clattered on the cobbles as he started to hack and wretch in response to whatever hellish substance she had just introduced into his system.
“Take the boy and go, Amelia!” Tilly shouted hoarsely, while arduously pulling his ruined shoulder forward on the weird scepter thing that Titus had been beating him with.
Cog scrambled away on all fours as the steward began hacking at the still-growing vine reaching around his throat. The guard Amelia had initially whacked was backing away from her, sword at the ready and Titus continued to scream as black tendrils ripped themselves free from his arm leaving it a mangled mess.
With a final heave, Tilly pulled his shoulder free and found to his surprise that he was still clutching both of his hatchets in a death grip. Without thinking he immediately flung the one in his uninjured arm at the guard closest to Cog while igniting it in flames.
The Guard grunted as it lodged in his back with a meaty thunk and Amelia looked over at him, obviously torn on her next step. The tentacled horror had almost fully detached itself from the Marcellus scion and the steward had carved bloody marks along his shoulder and neck freeing himself from vine-like growth that had emerged from Cog's pocket.
She reached down and grabbed Cog, throwing his small terrified form over her shoulder, and gave Tilly a flat look, “No one is sent here because they are good.”
Then she frowned apologetically and skirted around the tentacled thing that had almost completely pulled free from Titus' body. As soon as she was out of range she turned and sprinted down the street away from the remaining combatants. The guard who had been hacking up a lung was recovering and Tilly quickly recalled his second hatchet from the back of the other who had been reaching around pointlessly to remove it. These guys were pretty much all Strength and Endurance.
Only one of the two guards who had spontaneously started fighting remained standing. He came limping toward the main group with a conflicted expression on his face, leaving the other guard crumbled in a bloody pile at the intersection.
That left three wounded combatants, one writhing horror, and one aristocratic brat still screaming hoarsely in pain. All of whom were at least 14 levels above him…
Mana : 93%
Health : 45%
Tilly took a deep breath as they all took in the horror. By some unspoken arrangement, the guards zeroed in on him as the greatest threat and turned to advance. He clutched his newly recalled hatchet in his good arm and held on to the other one weakly as the gaping hole in his shoulder leaked blood.
Then a small paper bird flew into his view,
“Jonathan Tillman! My tracking sigil informed me that you are injured. Do not worry! Help is on the way!” The bird declared in Shuji’s voice for all to hear. His opponent's eyes narrowed at the words and the Steward's creepily calm voice issued out a command,
“Kill him and get the master away from the specimen.”