A Game of Gods: Infinities

The Doctor winces and steps back as he feels the heat wash over him. ''Any closer that would have got me too. As is I may be running a small burn. Don't got time to check. Can't be distracted. It has acid. Saren should be able to move and manipulate that but even then...I'm not a fighter, I'm not a fighter...what's around the room I can use?"'

The Doctor looks around the room and tries to notice the dragon as well hoping to spot something with his enhanced senses. "Saren keep an eye on it. Check if you can control the acid the MOMENT it is launched. Sayaka, Kyoko join Saren and Sazh whenever they're ready. We need a pincer attack. Attack the dragon from every angle. Samus, load your strongest artillery and be prepared. Save the shots for the right moment. I know you know when that'll be so you can manage that part of the attack. Until then follow Saren's orders. I know Saren's planning something probably similar to my pincer." The Doctor starts tapping his foot. C'mon think Doctor think. Can ANYTHING be manipulated by sonic waves?

Johnny - Riverrock

"What do you want with me? You usually kill your victims."

Why in the name of fuck didn't he think to bring a gun? A gun would be really useful right now. His rapier would do fucking nothing to this guy.

It seemed like he was dead. God knows how many miles from home, at the hands of a vampire. He never really expected to go out this way.

Grey — Ziggurat

Before they had entered the chamber, Grey had megamerged with Model A. In hindsight this started to look like a very wise decision, as he had no desire to get too close to the gargantuan beast they were now fighting. This wasn't the first time he had fought a dragon. However, that one was made of metal and circuitry, leaving aside the fact it was three headed. The young reploid supposed it was a blessing that this dragon hadn't yet displayed an aptitude for tearing open portals in reality to fling projectiles through.

Aiming his weapons at Praxidiometes, he tried to lock on to its eyes using Model A's targeting system. Pulling the triggers of his "crossbows", a pair of arrows curved toward the dragon, a purple glow trailing them. It was a bit of a long shot, perhaps, but maybe he could blind it.

Within the old and empty halls, the ancient silence once again reigned supreme; the only signs of life that still penetrated the structure were those of the champions themselves, that echoed with determination through the stone as they forged onward, intruders upon its being. Samus herself guarded near the front, remaining ever watchful, but not once did her scanner detect any threat. There were no guards for them to meet, no monsters to kill. Despite her caution, there was nothing sinister in their surroundings.

Samus's brow furrowed and unease settled in her core. That could only mean the enemy was exceedingly confident that Praxidiometes was in no danger from them. In this way, the silence itself was sinister enough. She reflexively checked the settings on her cannon and pondered what was in store for them as they entered the antechamber.

She was no stranger to dragons. However there was no way to tell if this one had anything in common with those she had fought, and in her previous fights she had been both stronger and alone. The latter was a mixed package. There were many more tactical options now and more aid, but also proportionally more people she had to protect. She'd be dividing her time between protecting and attacking, and while she wasn't worried about the stronger part of their squad she had a feeling she'd be bailing out the others frequently.

Smiling wryly for some reason, she descended into the lair of their enemy, feeling calm despite the dangers they would soon be in and remaining near the front, as much a sentinel as ever.

—

Samus looked over their arena, initially disappointed by how open it was. After a few more seconds of deliberating, she decided the pillars could make decent cover if the dragon was large enough. Judging by the size of the pool in the back, that wasn't going to be a problem...unfortunately. "The pillars in here are the only cover we have", she glanced over to everyone else, "use them.". She gave the girls and luigi a particularly pointed look. "Remember, this creature will likely eviscerate us instantly if we let our guard down for an instant. Do not let yourselves be caught out in the open." With that, she turned her attention finally to the centerpiece of the chamber.

She didn't need to bother, but scanned the water anyway to confirm that this was the source of the plagues. There was little doubt, then, where their opponent was located.

Stopped a decent distance away, staring at the hellish waters, she was struck by one last feeling of sympathy to the fallen Praxidiometes. Would such a being in such a state choose death, if it was offered? Would he be enough of himself to make that choice? She sincerely doubted the latter. She gripped her hand; she also doubted the former, knowing what the townsmen had said about this creature. It was no innocent victim, and creatures as old, powerful, and villainous as he tended to guard whatever perceived immortality they were given most zealously. Perhaps they would never know, and it didn't matter now. That one moment was all that he was given, in her thoughts leading up to the battle.

And she did not have time to consider it longer regardless. "Ironic, is it not?"

Alarmed by the lack of her sensors tripping her off, Samus charged a shot and had entered her combat stance. After a second or two, however, she realized it was a projection and warily stood straight, waiting for the voice to reveal itself.

As a cold frost played at the edges of her visor, a new presence was detected on her radar, centered within rising shadow. She pointed her weapons at the figure; despite her scanner not working on him, she needed no machine to be able to tell that he was not a friend. She held her stance momentarily, glancing about the chamber for unseen ambushes.

"The Urizen"

Her eyes narrowes dangerously, forgetting the fact that there was a dragon in the room. It was an omega metroid, fearsome but still feeble when the queen itself was there. Her mind raced, trying to be ready for any possibility now.

The commander himself, coming to see them. She wondered what they had done to gain personal attention, if he had decided to come in the place of a servant. Perhaps he was just the curious sort, or perhaps they were more dangerous to him than most had been. He seemed as confident about their chances of victory as Samus had guessed he would.

She eyed him up and down, trying to determine and memorize as much as she could. He wasn't particularly physically threatening, but it was obvious that his danger lied in his other abilities. Her lip quirked unpleasantly; she had no love for this realm's magic, a foreign power she had no learned strategies to meet. Thanks to his demenaour, she couldn't gauge how much power over them he truly had; the fact that he needed Praxidiometes to slay them could mean that he was incapable of bending their wills — as he put it — or it could simply mean that he was not bothering to. After all, it couldn't be an easy feat to break an ancient dragon. Arrogance, sloth, or in need of his servant's power? She could not know him now.

It was enough to know, however, his dispositions. He intended nothing but evil for them and for the people here; Riverock must be warned, and he would need to be destroyed.

In the end, she deemed not to interrupt him, and he faded whilst commanding his servant to rise.

"Be ready." She leapt away from the others, spreading out and standing ready, the dangerous glow of her beam pointed at the pool.

Once the beast rose from its dark depths, Samus's brow rose in slight awe. She hadn't been incorrect about him being large, she mused; he was a little longer than ridley had been, and far larger in girth and height (she felt a strange satisfaction at that; ridley's pride would have been wounded). She had fought beings larger and more ferocious, but not while she was as weak as she was now. As he stood on his legs and roared — so loudly that her helmet had to censor the noise to keep her eardrums from busting — Samus knew just how taxing it would be to destroy him; a true challenge, for the first time since arriving.

She went into aciton and scanned him; any weakness she could uncover would be invaluable. She prepared to dodge his first attack, but unfortunately it wasn't the attack she had been expecting; she barely had time to react to his spell, dashing further to the side as the fireball was launched.

She snarled helplessly as she glared down the destruction his one magic strike had caused. Of course it had magic, she should have suspected; things were worse than she had predicted, she noted with a small amount of frustration. She had to recalculate things.

"Saren, get them out of the open", she tersely said into her comm link as Sayaka went to aid Sazh. One good swipe while they were distracted and they'd be dead. "I will try and draw its fire."

Seeing that the others were already launching offenses at its head, Samus also lept into action. She lept squarely in front of Praxidiometes — about 25 feet from his head — and finally released her charging shot, rearing back and launching her green missile with a high pitched whirring. Unlike the others, she had an objective other than purely damaging it; she needed to grab its attention. The point of the missile wasn't merely to damage, but rather she had locked onto the lower side of its jaw. She believed the concussion from the blast might jerk his head around unpleasantly, with the added affect of perhaps being a bit dizzying and —most importantly— infuriating.

"This is my 'right moment', Doctor."

Riverrock—Vagabond District, Condemned Church

“Keep yer mouth shut, an’ maybe you’ll find out,” the vampire snapped. Something sharp prodded Johnny in the lower back, just above where his kidneys were. “Now head downstairs. An’ watch yer step; I’d hate fer you ta trip an’ break yer neck.” His savage grin was all too clear in his next words. “Dead blood just doesn’t have the same punch as livin’ folk’s blood, you know? It’s like spoiled milk.”

And so Johnny found himself forced down that spiral staircase concealed within the pillar. The descent was pitch black, the walls so close that every step he took on the rusting metal steps echoed sharply long after the fact. The air was close and stuffy, rank with the pungent smell of mildew.

Finally the steps ended, and Johnny would feel solid rock beneath his feet. Suddenly a torch flared into burning light, revealing the hooded goblin; he was no longer invisible and the hood of his cloak was down, letting Johnny see the creature’s drawn and hideous face, the large fangs, the evil red eyes… and the long, elegantly-crafted rapier he held in a moleskin glove.

He waved the torch. “Take a look around, kiddo.”

If Johnny were to do so, he’d find himself standing in a small cavern with dozens of branching tunnels heading off in all directions. Water dripped from the ceiling, and rats and other vermin scurried around at the edge of the torchlight.

“Dug ‘em myself,” the vampire said, puffing out his scrawny chest with pride; the clothes he wore under that cloak were surprisingly fine, a muted doublet of purple silk over a stainless white shirt and black leather pants. “Took forty years or so, but I’ve got the whole damn city honeycombed with these tunnels.”

As they followed the dinosaur into the alleyway, the Champions would discover that it was a dead end. There was nothing here in this shadowy cul-de-sac except for a lean sapling that sprouted from the broken earth at the base of a wall at the back.

The feathery reptile stalked silently up to this tree, turned its head to look at the Champions for a long moment, and reached out with one three-fingered hand for its slender trunk…

And at the same moment, a scaly arm—a lizardman’s arm—literally sprouted from the tree, grasping the dinosaur’s hand in its own.

Then both arm and dinosaur vanished, seemingly sucked into the bark like light sucked into the event horizon of a black hole.

A moment later that arm reappeared, beckoning urgently to the Champions.

From within this earthen sphere, the orb let out a muffled howl of frustration as it tried—and failed—to keep from being crushed.

Something cracked, and that howl became a wailing scream that trailed off into nothingness. And then, quite suddenly, both orbs imploded.

A shockwave tore through the chamber as the black orb collapsed in on itself like a star turning into a black hole, knocking all present off their feet. Nothing remained of the foul crystal or the rocky shell that contained it, and with the orb’s destruction the air suddenly began to clear, the stench of death and decay no longer as strong as it had been mere moments before. Chun-Li would be able to feel it clearest, a pall of negative energy that had hung over this tomb lifting at last as life slowly flowed back in.

???

In his dark chambers, the Urizen stiffened. The shadows swirled around his immense form, and in the recesses of the cavernous room nameless things chattered nervously to themselves as they sensed the shift in his mood.

Arawn sensed it as well, looking up from his kneeling position.    “What is it, my lord?”   

The dead suns that were his eyes stared off into the distance. For the first time in a long time, Arawn thought they looked… surprised. “Someone has destroyed the Animus Orb,” the Urizen said. His tone was calm, yet his words carried a faint hint of incredulity, so faint and well-concealed that Arawn might never have noticed it if he didn’t know his master’s moods as well as he did.

The thought was troubling.

“It was the interlopers.” Those silver eyes narrowed, colder than the void of space. “It seems I underestimated their determination, and the potency of their unique abilities.”

The death knight reached for the hilt of his sword.    “Let me kill them for you, Lord,”    he rasped.    “Give me the word and I will bring you their heads before the hour is out.”   

The Urizen said nothing for a long moment, rumbling in contemplation. Finally he spoke. “No. There is no need. The Animus may have been destroyed, but the concept itself is sound.” Great claws clicked on the stone floor as Arawn’s master began to pace back and forth. “Clearly future orbs will require greater defenses if a simple adventuring party could reach and destroy this one, but other than that the Animus has proven its worth as a weapon.” Those dead suns bobbed once in a nod. “Yes, this has been a useful learning experience…”

Arawn made an effort to conceal his disappointment.    “Then you want me to leave them be, my lord?”   

“For now. If they prove a legitimate threat to our designs, we can eliminate them at our leisure.” Those silver orbs swung around to regard the death knight. “In the meantime, I want you standing by to assist Shinuaq’tan should he have need. It seems the First Shaman has helped the interlopers there escape from prison.”

Arawn stood and bowed.    “I will leave at once, my lord.”   

???, Dark City

The necromancer watched as Pride fled down the corridor with his heart in tow, what little remained of his face contorting into a mask of utter rage. “You’d better run, you little brat!” he screamed, shaking a skeletal fist. “Run as fast as those scrawny little legs can carry you, boy, because when I catch you I will eat your soul!”

He continued to rant and rave until he passed through the prismatic wall covering the entrance to his lab, promising to return with all sorts of devices that would draw out Pride’s suffering for as long as possible. But by that point the Homunculus was long gone, chased by the strange tittering laughter and snatches of song that he’d heard on the way in, velvety vapors billowing in his wake, the draconic skulls mounted above seeming to follow him with their empty gaze.

Eventually he found a small recess just big enough for him to hide within, just deep enough to shield him from prying eyes. Strange glyphs similar to the ones in his room had been etched into the stone here, but these ones were spiral-shaped and glowed softly with a toxic green light rather than the purple glow of Pride’s “guest room.”

If he chose to huddle there, Pride would eventually notice a deep, phlegm-filled sound—almost like a yawn—coming from somewhere below. At that point he might notice that the floor here was not entirely solid, but rather a surprisingly rigid mesh grate filled with hundreds of tiny holes. Through them, he’d be able to glimpse a large room below, filled with a large basin of sloshing, brackish water. Something floated within this pool, something large and half-submerged; its silhouette was that of a sinuous fish, with fins and a long tail, but the presence of six tentacles trailing from the back of its skull put that comparison into question.

Well, now, said a voice, slow and deep and utterly calm. What have we here? Three glowing red eyes opened on the creature’s head, arranged in a straight vertical line. Though they lacked discernible pupils or irises, it seemed clear they were staring up at Pride, watching him with clinical detachment. You are not dead, it seems… but neither are you truly alive. Not living, not undead, but something betwixt and between. The voice paused, and the creature made a foul sound, like a drowning man trying to breathe through a larynx clogged with water. How very curious…

Though the voice was clearly emanating from this creature, it seemed to exist only within Pride’s mind. He heard its words not with his ears, but with his thoughts.

Snarling, Praxidiometes quickly shielded his face with one massive wing. The barrage of energy blasts Fluttershy, Grey, and Xigbar sent the dragon’s way left burn marks on the leathery membranes, but did not penetrate or burn through; and just as Samus’ super missile reached him, the wing bashed it aside to strike the wall behind and explode. “Throden pothoc virlym*, persvek vethihurthi*!” he spat. “Yux loreat! Gixustrat* yux!" The talons of his right hand flexed through a series of quick, complicated gestures. “Kethend molik.*”^note Translated from Draconic:“Many stupid thieves, in my fortress! You [will] die! [I will] disembowel you! Gem Hide.”

No sooner had Praxidiometes spoken these words than his scales took on a lustrous and iridescent sheen, as if his entire body had been coated in a thin but shiny film of oil. Fluttershy’s energy blasts and Xigbas’s arrows immediately began veering off sharply, deflecting off a thin shield of protective energy.

[Praxidiometes casts scintillating scales! He gains a +11 deflection bonus to Armor Class!]

Sazh, meanwhile, had managed to put out the fires burning on his clothes, and thanks to Sayaka’s healing energy he recovered somewhat from being at the epicenter of an explosion. “I appreciate it,” he said as he vaulted to his feet. A ring of red light formed beneath him as he switched to the Commando paradigm. “Now let’s take ‘im down!”

And suiting actions to words he brought up his crossbows and opened fire. Quarrels spat from both weapons in alternating bursts, reloading themselves automatically after every shot; in mere seconds Sazh had fired enough rounds to turn a fox into a pincushion. Unfortunately, he saw that his shots were having little effect—those quarrels that weren’t stopped by that rainbow shield simply hit the dragon’s scales and bounced off, and maybe one shot in twenty actually manages to find a gap between the scales to strike the flesh beneath… though Praxidiometes barely seemed to notice.

“Physical attacks ain’t too effective!” he yelled. “I don’t think I’m hurtin’ him at all!”

He would have said more, but at that moment Praxidiometes gathered himself like an oversized housecat preparing to spring.

There was some sixty feet of distance separating the Champions from the dragon.

Then it lunged, moving so fast that a sonic boom tore through the chamber, and in the blink of an eye sixty feet became zero.

Praxidiometes landed in their midst, twenty thousand pounds of tooth and claw and scaly muscle crashing down with all the force and speed of a meteorite impact. Sazh barely threw himself out of the way in time, just narrowly managing to evade getting crushed under the dragon’s bulk; but before he could regain his bearings one of the dragon’s wings lashed out and sent him sprawling. The other wing likewise struck Xigbar, hitting the Nobody with significantly more force.

At the same time Praxidiometes’ head shot forward like a striking cobra, snapping Fluttershy up with his monstrous jaws. The fearsome dragon bit down hard, not enough to crush Fluttershy but more than hard enough for its jagged crocodilian teeth to go through her armour and do damage; then he curved his neck sharply to one side and swung in the opposite direction, opening his jaws at just the right time to fling the Pegasus sixty feet through the air. His great tail cracked like a bullwhip, lashing out at Samus who was now behind him with so much force that he swatted the bounty hunter like a fly and sent her hurtling into the pool.

[Praxidiometes slams Sazh with a wing, with an attack roll of 41! Sazh takes 11 points of bludgeoning damage!]

[Praxidiometes slams Xigbar with a wing, with an attack roll of 45! Xigbar takes 23 points of bludgeoning damage!]

[Praxidiometes uses Improved Snatch with his bite attack to grapple Fluttershy, with an attack roll of 58! Fluttershy takes 23 points of damage from the bite and is flung 60 feet; if she does not arrest her fall she will take a further 13 points damage upon impact!]

[Praxidiometes uses tail slap, with an attack roll of 50! Samus takes 28 points of bludgeoning damage!]

Samus, if she were to scan Pradixiometes at any point before being struck, would find that the dragon was in every way the perfect killing machine. Its senses of sight, hearing, taste, touch and smell were all superior to human senses by an order of magnitude. Its eyes were protected from harm by transparent nictitating membranes. Its bones were immensely strong yet light, its scales were as durable as solid steel, and its brain was a complex thing full of constant neural activity, with large lobes linked directly to the eyes, ears and nasal passages.

But it was not these traits alone that made Praxidiometes so dangerous. The dragon was not simply a beast of flesh and blood.

Pure energy coursed through its veins.

With every beat of its immense four-chambered heart, the dragon’s blood passed through a large gland that seethed with raw, elemental energies like a biological fusion reactor. This energized blood then flowed through the dragon’s arteries, fuelling its organs and muscles with power. Blood vessels, nerves and ducts ran from this gland to the dragon’s immense wings, charging its flight muscles, and strange nodes that were almost like electrical contacts—currently inert—connected it to its cavernous lungs. It was also connected to the dragon’s stomach, turning that organ into a veritable furnace capable of digesting almost anything.

edited 23rd Dec '14 9:18:13 AM by SullenFrog

If Ranmaru would have stopped to think, he'd probably have thought that his world was getting just a little bit too weird for a simple samurai like him. He didn't, however. Instead he tried to sheathe the greatsword he was holding, remembered that it wasn't Iron Vengeance (I will skin that lizard...!) and, after settling for letting it dangle from one hand, grabbed the hand coming out of the tree.

Gogol Plains, Burial Complex

Too easy. Something this large had attacks that were heavily choreographed, at least, to Leo's mind eye. He leapt upwards to avoid Envy's tail strike, and was about to slice Envy's tail off when the shockwave from the exploding orbs swatted him out of the air.

"Agh!"

Slamming into a wall and falling limp back on the ground, Leo was once again stunned and vulnerable.

Fluttershy stopped firing when the dragon cast a spell on itself that essentially made her plasma blasts useless. The pony was trying to think of a new strategy when the dragon lunged right at the group. Seconds slowed to hours as sudden paralyzing fear wrapped around her mind, a flight response clicking in agonizingly slow. He tried to flap her wings to fly away, but the resulting sonic boom from the dragon's charge disoriented her, and the dragon managed to sink its teeth into her leg.

The pony yelped in pain when the knife sharp teeth pierced her armor and entered her skin. She found her flung through the air, her mind only registering the rapidly approaching stone floor just long enough for her to simultaneously flap her wings to slow her descent and create a bubble shield to cushion to impact - *WHAM*

Fluttershy stood still for a moment, calming down as the shield she created crumbled. She took some calming breaths and then looked at the resulting wound on her back leg. The pegasus handled animal bites before, but nothing as deep nor as painful. She knew trying to dress the wound now would take too long, so she decided to take a turn to heal herself as much as possible before heading back into the fight.

Edward stopped transmutating the stone orb as he felt something click. And when that something turned into an ear-piercing wail, he turned to Chun Li and immediately ran back, tackling her in an attempt to take her as far away from the incoming blast as possible. He... mildly achieved this fact, as the shockwave threw him to the ground and forced him to roll around a bit as he kept his embrace of Chun Li.

And at the end, he just slumped down on the floor, multiple holes in his shirt, arms- automail and meat- twitching as he realized just how comforting the stone floor was. "I could take a nap right now." Edward muttered under his breath, nodding to himself. "Yep, I could take a nap right now."

Unfortunately, the great idiot- Envy- was still up and about, causing some more pain to his teammates. His five milisecond nap cut short, he stood up, legs trembling as they begged for some rest- perhaps in the form of a nice, comfortable bed... some coffee... pie, oh god could he go for some pie right now- but there were still battles to be fought. "Hey! Bastard!" The alchemist yelled, clapping his hands and transforming his arm into an armblade. "How's about you start picking on someone your own size!" He asked, grinning as he always grinned.

Gogol Plains

Chun-Li felt herself suddenly tackle which made her lose focus on her chi... Rolling with Edward to avoid the blast, Chun-Li ended up rolling with Edward, ending up beside Edward on the stone floor. However, Chun-Li noticed something... The chi in the general area was coming back.

"W-We won..." Chun-Li declared to the others, quite weak herself from the battle. "L-Life is returning..."

Johnny - Underground, Overground, Womblein' free...

"So that's why you disappeared for forty years? Tunnels?"

It made sense, really. This was a Vietnam-style spiderhole. The enemy could pop up anywhere, could live under here for weeks. The only way to kill them was to go in, which was near suicide.

Oh god, he was really gonna die underneath a medieval city at the hands of a vampire. Christ, O Ding was practically dignified compared to this.

His eye opened wide as he felt the force of the dragon's wing strike him, his body careening towards the ground, sprawling as he ceased movement. Xigbar groaned as he flipped himself over onto his back. "Okay, so physical attacks don't work now. Not to mention," he raised himself into a sitting position as he continued," Not all of us are capable with magic and who knows if that'll even work."

Giving himself a cursory examination, Xigbar added, "I don't think this'll be a fight we can win if I end up being right." He stood up with some effort as his weapon vanished as he began launching a barrage of minor Gravity spells at the dragon, careful to avoid hitting anyone that had been sent back from the monster's assault.

Ia-Kong Ziggurat, Ritual Chamber

With his arm free, Saren brought his helm to clunk back onto his head, then clasped it firmly into place. With a last check to make sure that the warhammer was where it belonged, the turian set off at a jog alongside Katzroy.

Ia-Kong Ziggurat, Entrance into Fetid Pool Chamber

Saren lurked at the passage's side as it sloped downward, taking care to present a minimal profile. His scry-visor was active from the point he had latched the helm in place. As he advanced, the ex-SPECTRE swept the visor over his surroundings, every shadow as good as lit through his augmented sight. Judging by the rubble and weeds, this passage had not seen maintenance or other civilized activity for millennia. The ceiling collapse had been much more recent, though it would have happened eventually anyway. That it had lasted so long was a testament to the Ziggurat-builders' skill. Those in Riverrock were not on their level. A pity they had fallen into decline.

All through the descent Saren watched for enemies and traps, though it became clear that the collapse had prevented more creatures from roaming. No remains could be seen, but the weeds were alive and growing. Had this been the lair of Praxidiometes? An arrogant and territorial creature such as a dragon brooked no interlopers into its inner domains... Like Katzroy, he followed the murmur and gurgle of water.

The deepest chamber was another decaying marvel of architecture, but the turian focused first on the outliers and dark corners. Nothing. No dragon. With a feeling of resignation, Saren looked to the fetid and brackish water. His mandibles flared an increment. This was the contagion's source. His eyes flicked to the ophidian statue, his scryer reporting a regular thaumaturgical magic effect filtering the water running through it into the pool. He looked back into the contaminated depths which his scryer could not penetrate. In principle, the task ahead of him would be similar to that of lifting the Hydra from the river. In practice, he would have to Lift much more water and bulk without drenching everyone in the (recently decontaminated) party. He rolled his shoulders and took a breath. He would have to risk it.

Before Saren could begin his work, a new voice echoed in the chamber. He brought his blade hissing from its compartment as his gaze swept the room (while Wighthammer hovered in place at his left side), seeking the source. None readily apparent. Audio trace was inconclusive. Then the temperature dropped, and the turian focused on the shadows pooling (thanking his armour for keeping the heat in). He gave a small hiss of irritation when the materializing figure produced a riot of scribbles on his scryer readout. Question marks, absurd classifications, and nonsensical physical makeups appeared and vanished like a badly malfunctioning stock market display. He touched his head to the panel and retracted the visor. Saren would examine this creature with his own senses.

He began with the biological traits he could observe. Humanoid body shape. Long, white hair. Elongated ears terminating in points, slender build, angular facial structure... phenotypical traits common in Elven order of sapient species. Complexion indicates lack of sunlight or melanin deficiency, possible relation to garb. Eyes show metallic characteristics consistent with silver, ocular structure hidden, mild phosphoresence indicates supernatural power display. This ocular structure is inconsistent with Elven phenotypes. Subject is either not a member of that order or has extensively modified himself in accordance with self-image or manipulative effect.

Next, the garments. No weapon sheathes. Robes worn in the style of mid-to-high level aristocracy (note frilled high collar and flaring shoulders, possible draconic motif), overlap with wealthy private scholarship. Weave and materials consistent with style, masterwork quality and made at high expense. Silver color scheme matches eyes. Robes designed as indoor-wear, not for heavy use. Their purpose was ostentation, not combat.

Lastly, Saren focused on the entity's voice and bearing. Self-assured. At ease. Condescending. Ancient. Arrogant, but devoid of Sharro's bluster. Possesses air of intellectual superiority, pretensions of wit. Clinical observation of present conditions.

The ex-SPECTRE agent coalesced his information. The individual, if he was not an elf, desired to project the qualities associated with elves, namely extensive experience, wisdom, wit, grace, and overall superiority. His robes displayed a similar principle, being of a higher wealth, social status, and level of education than any "commoner" of Riverrock could hope to possess. The eyes had a similar purpose, to mark him out as something "other" than any elf or noble, though Saren could appreciate their second purpose: intimidation (why else would an individual make their eyes glow needlessly?). The entity did not need to be here, and had no interest in fighting the Champions. His appearance here and now was merely a theatrical self-indulgence. All of these items together were a display of casual power and a titantic ego.

Before Katzroy came to the same conclusion, Saren knew that the entity was the Urizen. The enemy was here, seemingly unarmed, but the turian let him continue speaking. The Urizen was a largely unknown quantity where his abilities were concerned. His form might have been as much of a show as his presence there, a prop which hid either empty air or a threat which could splatter them all against the floor. So he waited, glacial eyes watching the Urizen's face like a proverbial bird of prey.

Snap

Saren's eyes flew to the pool, and he took an involuntarily half-step back as the beast rose from the deep. Praxidiometes. It was about as large as he expected, but he had not counted on the beast looking and acting as if it had awakened from a long nap. An opportunity. Size and power only meant so much if the creature was clumsy with sleep. He bumped his brow against the scry-visor as he stalked to Katzroy's right. Wighthammer dangled from the pack of parts on his back. Silver again. Some effect of the Urizen's control. Saren reached the nearest pillar as the dragon roared, and was gratified at the surge of information his scryer fed him about the beast.

Such a monument of either evolution or design. The dragon was a beast engineered for hunting and fighting, a durable force of muscle, scale, and magical power to be reckoned with in any environment, to say nothing of the watery chamber. It would not tire easily, and its weaknesses were few. Saren eyed the information on specific organs within the chest cavity, then looked again at the structure of its brain. Praxidiometes was active now, casting magic and striking forth, but not yet with killing force. The beginnings of plan formed in his mind, and Aran's statements (which would remain helpful statements) fed into that plan. He reached out with his gravity magic, and then yanked both Miki and Katzroy behind his pillar.

" Tough wizard. Wait for some good targets. And don't touch the hammer."

Saren hissed, sotto voce. He was certainly not their keeper, whatever he was. But neither would he put them in unnecessary danger. Absolutely no more than necessary.

The next move would require more care and concentration. He slid behind the pillar, careful not to tap Wighthammer against the stone. Without touching the weapon, Saren lowered it to the floor. He glanced over his shoulder, judging the distance, then closed his claws into a fist. Roughly a meter over Praxidiometes ever-shifting head, the fetid air and dust crumpled into a buzzing mass of hyper-dense matter. Its physics-breaking pull gave the beast's scaly hide and sensory organs a violent tug.

Nodes pulsed liked a heartbeat. Saren became a bolt of blueish light hurtling through the stonework and across the room to another pillar some ways away from Katzroy and Miki. His position was now to the side of the great black dragon. Checking the distance again, the turian aimed his ruined prosthesis at the Wighthammer, waiting for the singularity to finish...

Jack hurried up to the disembodied arm and laid his hand upon it, waving the rest of the group forward. He was not familiar with sorcery, but they could not simply wander the streets aimlessly, nor spend any time talking out in the open. He could only trust that they would emerge intact on the other side.

Sayaka

"wha-?"

The sonic boom that pulsed through the dungeon finished Sayaka's question for her. The rush of displaced air sent an already back pedaling Magical girl tumbling head over heels before a stalactite broke her momentum. For a moment she sat there dazed as the great black dragon wrecked havoc upon her team mates. Then, as Fluttershy was sent tumbling away by the Praxidiomete's bite, Sayaka recomposed herself and got back to her feet.

So this was a dragon. She could understand why dragon slayers were hailed as heroes now because there was no way this battle was going to be easy.

So she needed to pull her weight. She sprang forth- towards the downed Fluttershy.

"Eh?"

Suddenly, Sayaka felt herself pulled back with great force. An invisible hand took hold of her and wrenched her from the air back onto the hard ground. Sayaka landed undignified and roughly beside Saren and Sazh wondering what the hell they were planning.

—" Tough wizard. Wait for some good targets. And don't touch the hammer." —

And then Saren was gone- a blue streak of confused gravity and matter pulsing in his wake. Sayaka looked at Saren's rapidly disappearing form and then back at Sazh.

"Okay...?"

She reorientated herself as to get a better view of the dragon. There was just the slightest fear of the beast seeing her. Still, she had signed herself up for fighting hadn't she?

A scimitar appeared in her hand- something to cling to to stop the trembling.

"So...I have no idea what he just said."

edited 29th Dec '14 3:24:56 PM by biomechtraveler

Pride huddled in the darkness, mentally berating himself for lowering to the level of a common rat. Holding the necromancer's heart in his hands, he felt something bubbling up in his throat as the winds hit his still exposed wounds. Sniffing, he was about to give in to his desire to cry when something spoke up.

He didn't react... instead, he just remained in the darkness, hugging his own legs, rocking back and forth. "I'm not real." Pride said, staring blankly at the dark. "I'm a homunculus. I'm not real... I'm... a good-looking fake. That's what I am. That's what I am. "

Envy gritted his teeth, snarling once the shockwave hit him, proving it was strong enough to send the giant monster to his feet. Hearing the pipsqueak's insults in his ear, he stood up, transforming back into his human form. "This good enough for you, shorty?!" He yelled out, stomping towards Edward, transforming his arms back into blades as his stomps left behind small craters. "How about I rip your skeleton out of your fucking body?!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE CAN'T OPEN THE WINDOW OR HE'LL BE SWEPT AWAY?!" Edward yelled, holding his arm-blade in front of him. "I've shown you what I can do once... don't think I won't do it again, Envy."

Chun-Li, Gogol Plains

Chun-Li attempted to push herself up off of the ground to sit up.

"Are you two really going to fight each other when we have more important issues at the moment?" Chun-Li asked Edward and Envy. "Like are we trapped in here and how are we going to get back to the town?"

Riverrock—Vagabond District
Catacombs

“Oh, I ain’t been gone for forty years, Johnny boy,” the vampire said, lips peeling back in an ugly grin. “Just the last twelve. I was still prowlin’ the streets an’ killin’ while I was diggin’ these tunnels; I only stopped when the work was finished cause I was gettin’ bored.” He chuckled. “Besides, the big man had other plans fer me… Just like he’s got plans fer you.”

The grin disappeared, replaced by the look of a spoiled child sulking over being denied something he wanted. “So no, I ain’t gonna suck ya dry, kiddo. Not until the boss has had a look at ya; he wants ya alive an’ unsullied.” His lips curled upward in a cruel smirk, fangs and tusks jutting from them like stalactites and stalagmites. “But after that, who knows? Maybe he’ll look the other way—”

He trailed off suddenly as noise echoed out of the stairwell. Someone was coming down, quickly—and whoever they were must have weighed a ton, if the sheer volume of the creaking metal steps was any indication.

The vampire scowled. “Ain’t it always the way? Ya just start getting’ inta the mood, an’ then company shows up.”

Quick as a flash he got behind Johnny and started prodding the young bard with his rapier, goading him towards the mouth of one of the tunnels. Every time the rapier’s tip poked Johnny’s back, a mild but unpleasant electrical shock ran through his body. “Move,” the goblin snapped. “Move!”

Even as Chun-Li spoke, an ominous groan rang out from overhead. Cracks were spreading rapidly across the ceiling, the ancient stones pushed past the limits of their endurance by the furious battle and the destruction of the Orb. Scattered plumes of rock dust began to fall from these cracks, and large chunks of the roof were visibly shifting as they lost their grip and began succumbing to gravity’s pull.

A voice rang out then, low and husky. “You disappoint me, Envious One.”

To the left, a column of red-tinged black light roared into existence, stretching from floor to ceiling, filling the air with a surge of malevolent power. This light dimmed as quickly as it had first appeared, revealing a statuesque woman with alabaster skin and hair the colour of midnight, hair which matched the long gloves and sleek black evening dress she wore. Edward and Envy would recognize her as the spitting image of lust, but for the lack of an ouroboros tattoo and the fact that her eyes were a solid, soulless black.

But Envy would know better. This was the third time he had lain eyes upon this woman, the third time he had laid eyes upon a god in human form.

“I told you I would not be so merciful if you failed me a second time,” Gezthirith said, not smiling. “Not only did you fail to destroy the orb yourself, as I instructed, you sought to take its power for your own. You have betrayed me, Envious One, and I do not look kindly on those who do.”

The dark goddess brought up her left arm and curled her hand into a fist, as if crushing a fruit, and immediately Envy’s body locked up. “The souls I bequeathed unto you, I now reclaim,” she growled, pits of bloody red light blazing within the yawning depths of her black eyes. And as Gezthirith made this pronouncement, dozens of souls were wrenched from Envy’s philosopher’s stone, streaming to her outstretched hand as a haze of shrieking crimson light. Enough were left that Envy could maintain his humanoid form and retain his shapeshifting abilities, but his monstrous true form was now beyond his reach.

Gezthirith absorbed these souls into her body, her expression cold. An index finger uncurled, pointing upward. “This tomb,” she said curtly, “is now yours.”

A bolt of red-black lightning shot from her fingertip and struck the roof, and the entire chamber shook as the ceiling finally began to cave in. As huge chunks of stone tore free and fell to the ground, Gezthirith dissolved into a cloud of black mist and vanished.

If the Champions did not flee, they would be buried alive.

As Jack and Ranmaru took hold of the arm protruding from the tree, some curious, nameless compulsion made them hold out their free arms and link hands with the other members of the group. Once they had done so, everything shifted, the world seeming to narrow into a single point; the Champions would briefly feel a sensation of extreme speed, as though they were travelling hundreds of miles in the span of a heartbeat, wind whistling and howling all around them.

Then, quite suddenly, they were through—and in another place entirely.

Tethrasur stood before them, his hand clasped in Jack’s and Ranmaru’s, sagging and breathing heavily as if teetering on the brink of exhaustion. “Thank goodness there weren’t more of you,” he wheezed. “Truthfully, I was afraid there might be too many of you as is—transport via plants is a useful spell, but it has its limitations.”

The Champions and the First Shaman stood within a lush grove of verdant trees, surrounded on all sides by deep forest. Light suffused the leaves, grasses and lichens, painting the whole world a vivid, almost lurid shade of green. At the heart of it all stood an enormous and majestic willow, its twin boughs bifurcating a short way up the trunk in such a manner that it looked like some sort of vast, naturally-grown chair—a throne fit for some great forest spirit.

“This is the grove of the Horned Lady,” Tethrasur said tiredly, “who your people call Kor-Bel, the nature goddess. There stands her Throne. This is a sacred place, known only to the shamans of my people; outsiders are never to set foot here. None would ever think to look for you here, so you should be safe.”

A short distance away his feathered dinosaur paced back and forth, never taking its eyes off the group.

A fabrication? Those three glowing red eyes blinked, slowly and in sequence. Most curious. Most curious indeed…

Below, there came the sound of water being displaced as the creature reared up like an immense serpent. As it drew closer, it was illuminated by the toxic green glow of the glyphs etched into the wall, allowing Pride to see it clearly.

If it was a serpent, it was likely the strangest such serpent the Homunculus had ever encountered. Not a snake, not a fish, not a slug, but some otherworldly combination of the three. It had no visible mouth, and on either side of its long head, deep pits oozed black mucus. Gills pulsated, seemingly unhindered by the fact that the mucus was seeping into them, and behind these gills sprouted four long tentacles which stretched out to touch the unseen walls of its chamber, holding it upright. Its length was difficult to guess in the gloom; what protruded from the water was at least twenty feet long, and still more of it remained submerged.◊

You seem real enough to me, the creature’s disembodied voice pronounced. Certainly that self-pity you express does not seem feigned. A wet, sucking noise filled the air as those mucus-oozing pits expanded and contracted. No, not feigned in the slightest. How interesting…

Those four tentacles released the walls, and the beast sank back down into the water with a heavy splash. From its pool it regarded Pride, unblinking.

So, Homunculus, how came you to be in this city of the dead?

Praxidiometes made no effort to dodge as Xigbar unleashed a barrage of minor Gravity spells on the dragon, and the reason why became apparent through what happened next:

The dragon laughed.

It was an ugly sound, low, guttural and mocking. And perfectly justified, for those weak spells had inflicted no damage upon Praxidiometes whatsoever; they hadn’t been deflected by the protective shield which still sheathed the dragon’s body in an iridescent film of light, they simply fizzled out of existence upon reaching him—as if some innate mystical quality of the dragon’s anatomy had negated the spells before they could take effect.

The same was not entirely true of Saren’s biotic Singularity. That power, one of the strongest abilities a biotic adept could create, was potent enough to get through the dragon’s innate spell resistance. Praxidiometes’ head jerked sharply upward with a grunt, followed by a low, crocodilian snarl—like the teeth of a chainsaw grinding.

The Singularity had likewise done no damage, but it had accomplished one thing of note: it had made the dragon mad.

Spreading his wings, the dragon flapped once and propelled himself backwards through the air, covering fifty feet in the blink of an eye and putting him well past the place where Saren came out of his biotic Charge. As the dragon crashed down to the floor, it opened its mouth and sucked down a deep breath of air, filling its lungs to their full capacity—

And if Saren or Samus had their scanners trained on the beast, they would see the inert nodes which linked that reactor gland to the lungs suddenly come alive, charging and converting the inhaled oxygen into seething elemental energy.

The dragon’s neck arched. A seething green light began to shine from the back of its throat.

In the blink of an eye, this energized breath hurtled down twin tubes lining the inside of the dragon’s neck, travelling into venom glands on either side of its mouth—

And like an oversized cobra, Praxidiometes spat twin streams of concentrated acid straight at Saren, splashing him across the face and torso before he could even contemplate dodging. Immediately the caustic liquid began to eat through his visor and breastplate, his armor offering no defense whatsoever against the dragon’s deadly breath; it evaporated within seconds, but by that time it had already bored through, leaving his armor riddled with holes and the flesh beneath riddled with deep welts and excruciating acid burns.

[Praxidiometes unleashes his breath weapon! Saren takes 57 points of acid damage!]

“Mutha f—!” Sazh cut his own curse short and switched to the Ravager paradigm, a blue ring of light forming at his feet as he did so. “Somebody heal ‘im, I’ll grab Proxy’s attention!”

And with those words Sazh focused for a few seconds, then hurled a crackling ball of flame at the dragon. The Firaga spell struck Praxidiometes full in the chest and exploded in a thirty-foot fireball, and the dragon cried out as the flames engulfed it for a second or two.

Sazh grinned. “Not so funny when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!”

[Sazh casts Firaga, overcoming Praxidiometes’ spell resistance! Praxidiometes takes 30 points of fire damage!]

Rearing up on its hind legs, the dragon loosed a furious bellow that shook the entire chamber. And as it did so, the air around Sazh and Sayaka was suddenly choked with insects. Locusts, to be precise: thousands of them, so many and so densely packed that they filled a rectangular area ten feet high by thirty feet wide by ten feet deep, with Sazh and Sayaka right in the middle of it and Kyoko and Grey caught up in the cloud as well. The bugs descended on all the Champions within that area, biting at any and all exposed skin they could get at, and Sazh was reduced to frantically slapping at himself and swatting at the air in a vain effort to keep the bugs away. “Blagh! Get offa me!”

[Praxidiometes casts insect plague! Three locust swarms occupying a 30 foot by 10 foot cubic rectangular area have been summoned! Sazh takes 11 points of swarm damage and is distracted!]

Curiously, the bugs made no effort to go after those Champions not already within the area covered by their swarming mass; and if Sayaka, Kyoko or Grey got free of the swarm, the locusts likewise left them alone, making no effort to pursue them.

Grove of the Horned Lady

Ranmaru stuck the sword he was holding in the ground, blade-first, then sat down cross-legged.
“I thank you, Shaman,” he said, “you have aided an honourable quest.”
He turned around to look at the rest of the group. “It would seem that we are safe — for the moment, anyway; now we must find a way to destroy the dishonourable thief that imprisoned us and” — his voice, usually high and almost girly, dropped to a rough snarl — “stole my ancestral sword.”

edited 7th Jan '15 9:43:47 AM by desdendelle

Johnny - Under Riverrock'

So the vampire was working for someone else. Didn't seem to be a permanent arrangement, though. And they were targeting him for some reason. Maybe it was the Gnome? Or the bugbear who had worked with the gnome?

He though for a moment, before realising another thing: the vampire had taken off his earring. He shouldn't have known it was a listening device. Between that and knowing Johnny's name...

"I'm guessing someone in the guards set me up? Can't be Stalgrim, or else you wouldn't have covered up the fact that you took me."

Johnny moved forward at the electric prodding, his knees buckling slightly. Maybe he should get a taser...

-Having released the three hands he'd grabbed, Donkey Kong begins climbing one of the trees on the clearing's edge to get a better view of the area. The dinosaur's presence is noted, but right now his only thought is to find his missing tie.-

Fluttershy was merely observing the fight so far as she tried to heal herself. So far Praxidiometes continued to tank her friends' attacks, and was dishing out powerful acid attacks and summoning plagues of biting insects, things which dragons in her own world could not possibly do! Or, at least as far as she knew anyway. Most interestingly though was how the dragon seemed to have been harmed by a powerful fire spell, which seemed rather ironic to the pony.

She then looked back over at the pool where the dragon had been sleeping. An idea came to her.

The pegasus silently flew over to the fetid pool, doing her best not to attract any attention, and carefully went near the edge, trying her best to ignore the near crippling nausea. She then pulled out a container of hair spray and, thankfully, matches. Usually she would never really need hair spray at all since her main and her tail were naturally stylized the way it was and might be harmful to animals. However, she given the can was part of a complimentary package from the spa, and of course she did not object to taking it even if she did not want to, and it was suggested by Rainbow Dash to bring a can with her whenever traveling after the weathermare had read about it in a Daring Doo book.

Initially, she did not object to Dash's insistence out of politeness, but right now, she was glad to follow it.

Carefully, she took out a match, lit it, and held it up to the hairspray nozzle, aiming for the tainted pool. After a moment of hesitation, and steadying the foreleg holding the aerosol can, she sprayed upon the lit match, fires erupting and hitting the pool. If her gambit worked, the pool would burst into flames, causing damage to the dragon. Fluttershy knew this would not outright kill the dragon, but hopefully distract it long enough for the group to have time to heal and regroup.

The Doctor looks at the chaos unfolding around him. Think, Doctor, THINK...wait the hammer...

The Doctor sneaks over to Saren. "Saren, can we get the hammer to the dragon? Can we have it touch him? That might be enough to kill it. Speaking of that..."

The Doctor tries to grab some of the armored parts of Saren. "Let's move you out of here..." He tries to help lead Saren out of Praxidiometes' sight. As he looks over at Saren and his destroyed armor he laughs. "This and whatever happened to you when we finally saw you again. Saren, do you want me to find you new clothes in the TARDIS? One more incident like this and we might have a streaking Turian trying to save the multiverse."

edited 7th Jan '15 11:07:11 PM by Fusionman

Sayaka- Dragon quest

The dragon was taunting them, despite everything he was laughing. Laughing. Sayaka ground her teeth in frustration so hard she was afraid her filling might break. She had never though through it all but now she suddenly realised that there is a distinct possibility that they might face some enemies they could not beat. An enemy that could take their punch to the chin and still find time to laugh.

So that was it, they were going to sit back and allowed to be beaten by his monster.

Is that what you're suggesting?

"Hell No"

This wasn't then end, they haven't even pulled the big guns out yet. This monster might be above their level but nobody was going to judge them for trying. The sound of Praxidiometes not laughing roused Sayaka from her inner musings. She turned into time to see Saren's Singularity vanish the the dragon respond.

Even Sayaka knew that glowing green throats weren't a good way to start a battle. The dragon reared and spat, sending Saren to the ground in a puddle of bone melting acid.

Sayaka sprang into action.

And not a moment too soon either. A cloud of locusts materialised around her. An "Ouch" formed on her lip as the Locusts bit down. Their small size belied the pain they could bring. Just as well Sayaka was halfway to leaving.

Even before the Locusts appeared, Sayaka's sword had left her hand in the form of a sharp and deadly projectile slicing through the air towards Praxidiometes' still open mouth. Now that the locusts appeared, Sayaka wasted no time in moving. A hand reached out and grabbed Sazh by the collar and next thing the pilot knew, he was dragged clear of the insect swarm. Sayaka deposited him and without missing a beat leapt into the air whereupon she rebounded off a nearby stalactite like a sapphire pin ball.

Leaping off the stone structure, Sayaka crashed down beside Saren and the Doctor. Both were attempting to get behind some cover and Sayaka did her best to help. Grabbing both by the wrists, Sayaka put forth her strength and launched herself backwards.

For Saren, as soon as the blue haired magical girl got a good grip on his wrist, he would feel healing magic at work. Sayaka Miki was getting more efficient at healing, that's for sure.

For Sayaka, she realised that during battle she simply did things; she didn't really think things through. It may help to explain how she managed to accomplish so much in so little time: her recent maneuvers were made in the span of only a few seconds.

A few seconds she realised, was enough time for the Dragon to notice her.

"Indeed," Jack added, nodding at Ranmaru's words and inclining his head in a brief, slight bow, "We are once again indebted to you, and perhaps we can begin repaying that debt at once. While we were imprisoned, the goddess granted us illumination of some of the mysteries surrounding your chieftain. But I would guess you have found something already that is cause for concern, otherwise you would not have aided us just now. If you will tell us what you have discovered, we will do our best to share whatever we know that you do not."