Vraxious- Kings Road
Vrax let go of the leash just as Torvald rocketed ahead right past George and his bow, catching him with an elbow that fully flipped the man. He charged once again from almost point blank, launching his hammer upward into the bear's jaw, sending teeth and bits of stone showering from its armored snout. Goddammit, Torvald. I know you wanted to wrestle a bear, but kill the fucking archer first.
Vrax summoned his armor mid-sprint and dashed to the right off the road, pulsing his stigmata garden once to deposit the daisy in the center of the cobblestone right next to Georges's concussed form. It rose from a wilted patch of moss in a furious flail of thorned tendrils tearing at George's armor and sending chain mail rings clinking off the stones before it was even fully summoned.
Vrax made it just off the road and halfway to the hill he was hoping to defend before the Daisy went flying off the road and somewhere into the forest, yanked by an unseen hand hard into a tree based on the planty crunch he heard. Ahh, fuck, they have a telekinetic mage somewhere in the woods. Also, where the hells did the Dreadfeast go? Vrax couldn’t see it anywhere; he slowed for a second to scan for it and felt a jarring impact as an arrow sank into his armor right below his sternum.
He started running again. Eyes trained on George, who was pulling another arrow back, an unkind sneer on his face. Then the arrow in Vrax's chest armor detonated a fireball the size of his fist, gouged a hole roughly out of his armor, and set the blackened wood on fire. He got knocked into a short tumble, smacking to a stop against one of the trees he planned to use as cover.
“The fucking archer Torvald!” Vrax shouted as he pulled himself behind the tree; another arrow sank into it, blasting a chunk of bark free and setting it aflame as well. The barbarian was running straight at him, and he would need to deal with that. While safe from the archer in his little circle of trees, the barbarian was actually frothing at the mouth as he thundered toward Vrax, taking a terrifying flying leap from the road, axe raised high above his head. Vrax watched his descent and timed his response; he rolled sideways at the last moment. The barbarian slammed his axe down into the boulder, shattering a man-sized chunk of it into debris. Vrax summoned his stigmata garden. Lurkers on the edges and the retriever hive directly in front of the barbarian. The trees around them slumped in agony; half-rotting leaves rained down, and the barbarian’s skin blistered at the edges as the drain affected Vrax’s surroundings.
The barbarian ran smack into the retriever hive, nearly uprooting it in his wrathful attempt to get straight at Vrax. Vrax shuffled farther away from him, careful to keep the hive between them and a mostly intact part of a dying tree between him and the archer. The retrievers exploded out at the direct attack on the hive, skittering right onto the man's arms and chest, wrapping around him, and sinking their maws in deep. The barbarian was halfway bound there where so many umbilicals wrapped around him. He grabbed a retriever from his arm and squeezed it so hard it popped in his fist about the same time as the umbilicals he was straining against made it through his armor. There was a sickening chunk as the umbilicals pulled taut against flesh.
Whatever rage skill he was using must have dulled his pain because he didn’t slow digging his feet deep into the earth and straining towards Vrax; the lines across his skin wormed their way farther inside, and with one last screaming heave, he leapt towards Vrax. Vrax lifted his spear to ward off the barbarian; instead, he was showered in uneven large chunks of the man. He had been roughly diced by that last heave against the razor-sharp retriever wire.
“Uhhh… gackk… holy shit…” Vrax sputtered to himself while spitting out what he thought was part of the barbarian's scalp. He peeked around the edge of the tree. Torvald was roughly hauling the bear around by its snout, raining short blows into its jaw with the haft of his hammer. His back was peppered with missing chunks where arrows protruded. George danced around the road's edge, bow drawn, but now he was focused on killing Torvald to help his tamed beast. Torvald was managing to keep the bear between them for now, but George was angling to get more shots off.
Vrax quickly re-added the two nearest lurker mushrooms and slinked into the knee-high grass, using [Forest Strider] to its fullest, the already deep shadows wrapping around him further as the grass bunched and parted to aid his stealthy movement.
Vrax came up to the road's edge, still unseen, a stride behind George. In one explosive movement he leapt from hiding and activated his stigmata, the drain effect turning the bits of grass on the road into a disgusting slurry, and Georges’s bow snapped violently in his hands as the rot took hold of the longbow held at full draw. George whirled back to the new threat, drawing a hooked dagger, but it was too late. Vrax held a dandelion firmly in his hand within arm's reach of George. He blew it directly in his face.
However dangerous the tamer may have been, he had obviously ignored his physical defense. The dandelion seeds floated lazily for half a heartbeat before diving into his unprotected face by the hundreds. His strangled screams only lasted for a moment before the innumerable deadly flickers of green light beneath his skin silenced him forever.
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Vrax kept going, getting closer to Torvalds's brutal clash. He had placed one of the lurkers on the edge of the skirmish to help. “You got this? I'm going to go for the mage!” Vrax shouted.
Torvald shoved the head of his hammer into the bear’s mouth, shattering teeth as it lunged at him, and spared a glance back at Vrax; he had a wild, blood-filled smile on his face. “I’m winning against a fucking bear, Vrax!” He responded.
Yeah, he's fine. Vrax made towards the left side of the road where the Daisy had been tossed to. It wasn't long before he saw a bizarre sight. An exhausted-looking man in tattered and bloody green robes had both hands held up, channeling a spell, brow gritted in concentration. The daisy dangled in the air just in front of him, mangled like it had been hit with a hammer a hundred times. He was slowly slamming it into a tree over and over and over again, muttering to himself.
“Why, wont, you, Fucking Die!?” The mage hissed. The daisy threw itself forward off the tree at the man again, and he just barely managed to stop it midair with a pained flare of mana and slam it into the tree again. To his side stood a man in plain leather armor with a well-worn halberd and a big bushy beard. The halberdier saw Vrax and squared up, placing himself between Vrax and the mage.
Vrax identified them both to make sure he wasn’t about to walk into any lethal level desparity.
[Erick Lenden Tier-1](Lvl11)[Arcane Forcer]
[Jonathan Clearwater Tier-1](lvl14)[ Oakhearted Farmer ]
Holy shit, the guy with the halberd is a non-combat class. I knew I would eventually run into one of those trying his hand at some more dangerous work. Jonathan moved in a flash of kicked-up dirt at Vrax. His halberd weaving a disorienting path through the air. Vrax confidently lunged forwards, his smite shaped onto the tip of his spear like a crescent blade going for Jonathan's throat. Jonathan expertly pivoted at the last second, spiraling past Vraxes's outstretched spear and cracking the haft of the halberd against the side of his face.
Vrax staggered sideways, bringing his guard towards the man, but Jonathan had already changed angles again, stabbing twice at Vrax's knee, both times almost piercing armor, and then with a sweeping slash, he stepped out of range, nearly severing two of Vrax's fingers. Vrax stepped in to stab again, his grip soaked in blood, but was almost effortlessly deflected by the always moving halberd. It suddenly jerked sideways mid-block and caught him with the blade across his face. Vrax felt flesh part and the metal scrap against his teeth. Holy shit, this guy is going to kill me; he is way too damned skilled.
Vrax summoned his garden, the drain rending a circle of death around himself; it caught Jonathan, blistering the edges of his skin and making his eyes and nose dribble blood. The lurker mushroom now loomed between them, acid gently hissing; it didn’t strike yet, as Jonathan seemed to know what it was, standing stock-still, watching for an opening.
A desperate, wounded cry of absolute terror called their attention back to the mage he had locked up, standing in place, hands holding his heart and face as he screamed. Behind him the dreadfeast towered on its tail, all three tongues delicately laid upon his brow like a crown of pain and all six bladed hands gently caressing his chest, neck, and skull. The dreadfeast let out an answering scream with the voice of a noblewoman; a false, well-practiced laugh echoed out over the man's wails. “HaHAHAAHAHH, yes, darlings, yes!” The Dreadfeast trilled.
“Holy shit …” Vrax painfully whispered to himself. The halberdier across from him had wide, terrified eyes locked onto the scene as the Dreadfeast slowly lowered its open maw over the top of the man's head all the way down until its jaws were around his collarbone, the screams now muffled by the maw and the mad laughter of the noblewoman still crooning. It closed its jaws one at a time, with noticeable crunches one after the other, as its throat bulged with the unchewed meal.
Jonathan took one last look at Vrax, shook his head, and just ran, bolting away from the lurker so fast it couldn’t get ahold of him. The daisy careened awkwardly through the air after the man smacked into another tree and then tried to throw itself again, with its mostly ruined tendrils managing to just go up and then back down again in an enraged tangle of broken tendrils and seeping sap.
Vrax glanced towards the booming laughter of Torvald, who was currently finishing off the bear, then back to his newest horror as it expertly pulled the now silent man’s arm off and stuffed it whole into its maw. He took out a potion and downed it with shaking hands, deciding to just sit where he was in the puddle of rot. Stereos was probably right about people wanting me dead before this shit keeps spiraling. The wave of essence that wafted into Vrax made him clench his teeth and check his notifications; it was quite a bit of essence. It was a bit concerning how much essence killing humans could give.
[Erick Lenden Tier-1](Lvl11)[Arcane Forcer] Slain
[George Urundell Tier-1](lvl19)[Deepwood Tamer] Slain
[Finley Shaw Tier-1](lvl11)[ Falcon Totem Barbarian] Slain
[Slate Blood Bear Tier-1](lvl16) Slain
[Bloodfyre Falcon Tier-1] (lvl6) Slain
Vrax rested in the puddle of sticky grass while his wounds knit. Torvalds's thudding step drew his attention upward; the man was bleeding from a dozen wounds and appeared to be missing a tooth, but by the gods, he looked thrilled.
“You alright there, Vrax?” Torvald checked.
“Yep, great. Just got my ass beat by a farmer that really should have followed his dreams and become a damn Kingsguard and then was granted a scene that will be replaying in my dreams for a while. How about you?” Vrax answered over the slurping sounds of marrow being sucked out nearby.
“Well, I can now say I fought a bear and won! Also loot!” Torvald held up a very bloodstained sack that jingled slightly.
“Oh good, now maybe I can afford therapy.” Vrax responded in a resigned tone, hauling himself to his feet. They still needed to loot the other bodies, and after that he had at least a level's worth of essence to spend.