In the central lane, Swain's peculiar raven hopped around until it was facing Malhazar directly, fixing the unblinking gaze of its six red eyes on the Prophet of the Void while its owner surveyed the battlefield. It was readily apparent that the mad Seer of Shurima had overcome certain limitations regarding how many of those chitinous voidlings could be brought forth as a consequence of his spells, and how long the creatures were able to remain active before they shrivelled up and expired; while the fight between blue minions of his team and those clad in purple would have been an even if costly struggle under normal circumstances, the presence of the arachnoid abominations greatly tipped the scales in Malhazar's favour, and if Swain did not make an effort to stem this tide the thralls of the Void would plow through his forces like a hextech bullet through tissue paper.
The Noxian general knew this for a fact, yet he also knew that this was precisely what Malhazar wanted; with his ability to debilitate and silence his opponents with void energy, and the power to assault a foe's mind with ghastly and contagious visions of their own demise, the hovering desert nomad made for a formidable adversary under any circumstances. Swain knew that if he were to wade in now in an effort to even the odds, Malhazar would simply silence him with a powerful blast of Void sorcery and then unleash a powerful psionic attack; considering that the Voidlings were drawn to those afflicted by their master's malefic visions, they would swarm him immediately and he would be torn asunder within a matter of seconds.
His plan could still work; concealed as they all were within the brush, his unusual allies were a trap like no other, waiting for the right opportunity to snap shut and take Malhazar out of the fight...at least temporarily. The Voidlings, alas, made that difficult to pull off; though diminutive and not particularly threatening in aspect, Swain knew from personal experience that the arachnoid creatures were both far more durable than their appearances would indicate and savagely efficient killing machines, and they would surely flock to defend their master when it became apparent that he was in danger. As such, at least a few of them needed to be dealt with before Swain could begin to enact his strategem; otherwise, his fellow defenders would swiftly find themselves overwhelmed.
Stepping forward to bring the minions of both teams within range, Swain focused his gaze on a small spot of land where the largest cluster of Voidlings would be in a moment and began to concentrate, drawing upon his own internal reserves of mana to prepare a spell. Under ordinary circumstances, the Master Tactician would have been limited to a single spell from his repertoire and it would have been quite limited in its effectiveness, a side-effect of having to synchronize with his Summoner. These were not ordinary circumstances, however, for the battle had already been raging for a considerable length of time when the newcomers arrived at the summoning platform, and the Noxian general and the mage who directed his movements were now largely in tune with one another; as such, Swain's library of spells was now available to him in its totality, if not necessarily at full potency.
At the spot had designated, a glowing circle some eight feet in diameter—purple-white in hue, and composed of ornate runes and arcane glyphs written in an ancient tongue—flared into existence on the ground; then, as the Voidlings moved into position in an effort to savage more of the blue minions with their chitinous claws, spectral talons like the feet of a vast murder of carrion birds erupted from the ground within the circle to snatch at the legs and feet of the insectoid monstrosities, squeezing and crushing with incredible strength. The damage inflicted by this spell—which Swain, in an uncharacterstic moment of whimsy, had dubbed Nevermove years earlier and had seen no reason to change the name—would not be sufficient to kill the creatures outright, though it would keep those Voidlings he had ensnared from moving or otherwise defending themselves until its effects wore off.
On the left lane, the Champions would be able to see a distant, multi-armed shape approaching their position through the darkness ahead, advancing alongside the second wave of purple minions; though the gloom made it difficult to pick out any fine details about this newcomer's form beyond its relatively large size and numerous limbs, they would be able to see the soulless green phosphoresence of its two large eyes, bobbing up and down and swaying from side to side like a pair of will'o-the-wisps as it drew nearer to them. The Danse Macabre Codex
"Like I said, I'll be staying in the shop." He looked at the gorilla. He didn't really see what the big deal was. He'd seen gorillas before. Gorillas with jetpacks, enormous guns, and riot gear, but gorillas nonetheless. "What're we going to call him? I mean, does he have a name?" He glanced at the tie around Donkey Kong's neck. "DK?"
"You have more than enough potential. So tell me what is the one wish that would make your soul gem shine." -Mitt Romney, probablyRecette smiled, and turned to her shelves to point everything out.
"I sell all kinds of things! Potions, treasure, books, food, anything an adventurer could need!" she explained. She was incredibly enthusiastic about listing off her wares. She really enjoyed this all.
Tear, on the other hand, was staring at Wreck-Gar like... she'd seen a giant robot garbage truck.
"What is that?"
"Oh, dear. The toad, the monkey, and the dog have all screwed up.""I don't suppose you guys wanna surrender? No? Ah well, worth a try."
Hellboy raised the Samaritan in his Left Hand of Minor Consequence and fired several bullets tipped with explosive shells containing white oak, holy water, garlic, cold iron shavings and silver shavings (each round the size of a small artillery shell) at the shadowy legless being.
edited 28th Jul '11 2:13:32 PM by Vox
Tear's expression became utterly deadpan. The insane things before her clearly just made her what to be more caustic and sarcastic.
"I'm Tear, a fairy," she said, folding her arms.
"I'm so happy you all want to help," said Recette, moving out from behind her counter, still smiling. "I think today's going to be completely wonderful!"
edited 28th Jul '11 2:33:04 PM by AnnoR
"Oh, dear. The toad, the monkey, and the dog have all screwed up."'It's... complicated. I'll explain later." Another glance at the tie. "We'll figure it out later. For now, let's just call him DK." He turned to Recette. "It's no problem, really."
"You have more than enough potential. So tell me what is the one wish that would make your soul gem shine." -Mitt Romney, probably

"I'll go to the dungeon. Shops are for moogles."
A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they will never sit in.