Val

"Yep, got it," Val said loudly, still in Sword's arms. "Give me a few moments for my organs to return to their proper places and I'll be right—"

He cut himself off with a surprised shriek as Sword suddenly threw him into the air, flailing his limbs ungracefully before slamming face-first on the ground.

"Owwwww..." Val groaned into the dirt, the ache in his chest flaring up. "Bag, bag, bag, get the...get the bag..." He slowly, wobblingly got to his feet, swaying a bit. Get the bag, then it's okay to collapse screami— Ow. A spike of pain shot through his head and he winced. No thinking. Not until bag.

Val backed away, trying to find an angle where he could put his stealth skills to work in retrieving the bag—preferably without dying in the process.

"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."

Despite her impairment, the Huntress's aim was impeccable, her javelins only veering off course from Caitlin's wind and Sword's sheer might. Is she relying on sound alone to track us...? How best to approach, then...

Nasira looked at the craggy hillside the Huntress was making her swift advance upward - she heard Masaru's plan loud and clear (unfortunately, so too did the Huntress, undoubtedly), but the distance between them was still too wide for her to project her smoke, not to mention she would now be anticipating some form of barricade. If she wanted to hinder their foe's charge, she'd need to try something more unconventional.

Throwing a quick glance at Caitlin and Masaru, Nasira took a deep breath...

And tossed herself down the hillside. Wrapping herself up in blankets to cushion her fall, Nasira tumbled towards the Huntress as though offering herself to the would be goddess. However, that was not the end of it; as soon as she began gathering speed, she expelled a mass of smoke from her body before becoming smoke herself, the momentum from her seemingly reckless act carrying the smoke clouds down with surprising speed.

The smoke would do little to stop the Huntress's advance, of course... But it would not remain smoke for long. Once the cloud flowed beneath the Huntress's hooves, Nasira reformed behind her, hands out as she concentrated on the mass of smoke beneath their enemy... And from beneath the Huntress the smoke suddenly became a mass of iron thorns, metallic vines ensnaring her legs and hindering her movement.

Edited by Starbound2 on Feb 26th 2021 at 2:28:54 AM

Masaru

In hindsight, calling out the plan was probably not the wisest idea, and this Huntress seemed to be relying on sound to locate them. As the javelin hurled towards him, Masaru didn't even raise his sword. There was no way he was deflecting one of those with a tiny knife, and instead he got prepared to dive out of the way. Not that he needed to, given that his compatriots efforts had knocked it off course. Still, how to deal with someone several times their size without communicating audibly? Well, he at least had to pass on the information to others. Arms waving about, he waited for all eyes to turn to him, before holding one finger up to his mouth in a "shhh" motion.

Still, he didn't have anything to deal with giant thrown javelins, so he quickly scurried over to a nearby rock, taking cover behind it and poking his head out now and again to get a read on the situation. Hopefully he would be able to think of something while in relative safety.

Come now, I've dealt with far grander battles than this, how would I solve this conundrum? Val says Poppy is dead, but this Huntress seems unlikely to be that efficient. Thrill of the hunt...where to keep a trophy or a capture for later...oddly attached to that bag at mentioning it to be taken...Freeing the child is the biggest priority, given her power, if she was still alive. At the very least it would deprive the Huntress of potentially useful items. That should trivialize the battle. Val should be on that, hopefully. However, a little...support wouldn't hurt.

And so it was with that that Masaru hid behind the rock again, taking a deep breath. Not that he needed to breathe, but he needed air in his lungs for the ear-piercing screech that followed, mind flashing back to the pain and heat of his first death to bring about the memories of agony he felt then. After all, it's not like his vocal cords cared anymore.

"AAAAAAAH! AAAAAGGGGGGGGHHH!"

Edited by UndyingPhoenix on Mar 4th 2021 at 7:13:04 PM

Dyersthel

Well, it was worth a shot.
So they would not fight, huh? So be it, then. That, too, was ok. He could not even blame them, to an extent. The denizens of this realm, most likely, knew full well what a fearsome creature this 'Huntress' was. Perhaps, they had already tried fighting her, and had given up, finding themselves outmatched. But that was fine.. That was all that could be expected of people like them, in a way. He thought this not in arrogance, but in a sort of ironic way. After all, he, and the others, were not 'normal people' anymore. They were trying to become more, to become Gods.
—And gods are those who sit, alone, at the top of creation.
So, the traveller stepped forwards. There was before him a hill, a tower on it, and a bunch of people too. And behind it, the Huntress, advancing.

No time to waste, then. He made haste. To the cliff, and to the group. Once there, he'd try to ascertain the situation- ask what was happening, and what was the situation. He could already see there was one person missing, if his recollection about the number of people present wasn't wrong.

Wlíphe, Lonely Remnant of Forgotten Hope

The javelin was knocked off course by Caits windblast, slamming into the ground next to her with enough force to shatter stone. Shrapnel hit the pirate but did little damage, beyond scratches. Sword meanwhile threw Val out of the way, before ducking under the first missile, which missed her by a hair. A second one shot towards her and the Oni twisted her torso to narrowly evade this on, as well. Then, as the javelin flew past her, she reached out and grabbed it. Her muscles tensing, she hurled it around with a mighty roar and insult and threw it at the Huntress.

The Pretender twitched her head towards Swords challenge, unable to see, but very much hearing her. She jumped to the side, trying to evade the javelin that Sword had so carelessly announced. But nothing came.

WHAM!

The Huntress stumbled, as her own javelin slammed into her shoulder and ripped her right arm clean off. Sword had tricked her, by delaying her throw and using the tower to ricochet the javelin. It was only a slight difference, but enough to land a hit.

Then Nasira manifested behind the Huntress, her smoke enveloping her and turning into spikes, thorns, and more. The semi-divine monster didn't seem to notice the sharp edges digging into her legs and seemed more concerned with grasping for her missing arm. When she didn't find it, she growled in frustration and reached into her knapsack.

Nasira watched her pull out a frankly massive wolf-carcass, easily the size of a horse. Within a second the flesh and bones twisted and turned and then formed a new arm at her empty shoulder, covered in grey fur and with nasty, hooked claws. Muscles bulged and it gave her previously elegant body a disjointed look.

The Huntress sniffed and then whirled around. Her new claw grabbed Nasira, before the djinn could dissolve and slammed her against the ground. Dragging her over the rocky surface, the Huntress snarled as she hurled Nasira with full force towards the tower. She jumped after her, but the vines on the ground kept her legs in place, causing them to rip in two. The Huntress sailed through the air, with her stumps staying behind on the ground.

Laughing excitedly, she once again reached into the knapsack and pulled out another mountain-lion. Whilst still in the air, she grew two feline legs. She slammed Nasira into the side of the tower, her claws digging into the stone. Grabbing her sickle with her human hand, she raised it, ready to cut the djinn to pieces.

A piercing scream cut through the air. It wasn't painful, as it was really just Masaru. But the Huntress yelped in brief pain, as her oversensitive ears were split by the noise. Losing her grip she plummeted down to earth and slammed into the ground, briefly dazed.

Glutton-filled Pocket

The voice chuckled again. It felt dry and hacking, like a mouth filled with dust and ash. Yet, the voice still sounded deep, with an echo reverberating in a dark cave. Ancient, sinister...

Who is a good question. What an even better one. Neither relevant to your current dilemma, though, it said.

A hand reached into the darkness, brief light from outside shining onto the vast mountain of corpses she was now part of. It lunged down, grabbing a carcass, and pulled out again.

You're on borrowed time, child. Will your captor reach out for you, twisting your flesh into her own, like she did so many others? Or will your friends reach you first, instead?

Again the hand came down, missing Poppy by mere inches and grabbing another carcass instead. Risky...uncertain...normally, I wouldn't mind that. But given the circumstances, it might be better to give you a helping hand. Even the odds...

A smile crawled over the little girl's brain, like a centipede rubbing against her skull. What do you say? Do you need a little...push?

Edited by TheNohen on Mar 6th 2021 at 1:18:42 PM

Captain Holloway

The bitch is down. Good.

Masaru's scream would've caused Caitlin to wince if it weren't for her own ruined ear and associated partial deafness, and she nodded towards him in a commending fashion with visible respect on her face. Otherwise, she kept silent, hoping to hide her position from the Huntress as she carefully stepped about.

The Huntress was prone now, dazed. Regardless if that knapsack held something they wanted, she understood now the urgency in removing it from the Huntress. With that said, she swiftly but silently began to approach the downed beast of a woman; raising her falchion...

And attempted to slice the knapsack off of her person, aiming a windblast as a followup to send it away a short distance if she could manage. Which would naturally make her presence immediately known by extension, but at that moment she didn't care. She was willing to face the consequences if it gave her new allies a fighting chance.

She sent Nasira and the others a brief purse of the lips, mouthing a ‘well done’ to her. It may have very well been her last words if they weren't silent. Though away she was way too close for comfort, she regardless readied to fight the Huntress if she recovered; not looking forward to her odds.

bork

Fast. That was Nasira's first thought, the only thought she had time for as the Huntress swept her up in her newly grown claws and scraped her against the stony ground. There was no time even to struggle, so all Nasira had left were her thoughts, pain wracking her body but mind retaining surprising clarity.

Patchwork body, repairs itself through carcasses. Hasn't healed her sight? Eyes, quick to rot? Head, complex; too difficult to integrate? Center of senses, sight, sound, smell, taste... Touch... lost her arm, but failed to notice until she reached to feel for it. Dulled sense of pain... or maybe... a cocoon of flesh?

Nasira winced as she was slammed into the tower, briefly interrupting her thoughts. It seemed her thoughts would soon be over as despite her bindings, the Huntress leapt free sans legs, bearing down on Nasira with sickle in hand. The djinn waited for the end... but was instead interrupted by an inhuman screech, catching both her and the Huntress off guard. The Huntress fell to the ground but without the predator holding her there, Nasira fell soon after.

What can't be replaced... what would hinder her most...? Her orange eyes flickered with possibility - but first, she needed to share some thoughts on the Huntress's weaknesses before undertaking this suicide attack.

"False... body... head... heart...!" Nasira croaked, her body not quite recovered in breath yet. Hopefully it'd be enough to get the point across, because there was little time to deliver more words. Her cloak in tatters, Nasira's body dissolved once more into smoke, appearing just behind her robes and grabbing it by the hood. Without her disguise, Nasira revealed herself and the leather armor she wore just beneath, bright orange eyes seeming to glow brighter by the moment as she descended.

I am a lantern lighting the way for others... My body is tinder, my blood oil, my soul a fire which burn eternal... May your nose smell only smoke... your tongue taste only ash... may your ears hear only the crackling of the flame as it consumes you...! In an instant, Nasira was ablaze, setting her robes alight before draping it across the Huntress's face, clinging onto her and the cloak to let the fire spread, to burn, to eat away at her ears, her nose, her remaining senses.

Poppy Blake—Glutton-Filled Pocket

Poppy gurgled in her magically-induced sleep, and twitched some more. She panted, her eyes trying to flutter open but failing, trying to scrabble away from the hands grabbing carcasses all around her. It was dangerous here and there was no way out of it.

"Help..." Poppy sighed into the fetid air. "...me...please!"

Edited by JumpingFruit on Mar 11th 2021 at 7:35:41 AM

I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.

Val

As the Huntress and his—companions? He wasn't sure what to call them now—duked it out, Val scanned the area, looking for an opening. Only...he couldn't find one. Whether it was because there was no way to pull an ambush in such an open area, or because of the headache pounding against his skull, he saw absolutely no way he could contribute to this.

Until the Huntress got downed, that is.

At that moment, Val saw an opportunity and seized it. He took off running, leaping above the Huntress to grab the bag right off her back...

...just as Caitlin cut it off and windblasted it away.

Val's eyes widened. Oh, crap. In a panic, he fumbled his staff out and smacked the Huntress in the neck with it (well, he aimed for the neck, but he wasn't entirely sure whether or not he'd hit it) before tumbling to the ground, stumbling on the landing and narrowly avoiding falling flat on his face.

"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."

So, what the old gangs Sword knew back in the day would do, was you had your team, the guys that'd work the jump, followed by what they called a runner. Their job was to snatch the merchandise while everyone else laid into the mark. Sword was never the runner.

Times goddamn changed though. Everyone else was just absolutely laying into the Huntress, which was a good idea too with how much she'd given Nasira the business, but that bag was up in the air and nobody was focusing on it! With another huge leap Sword pounced for the bag and tore it open, not even bothering to figure out how to work any ties or drawstrings. This thing was too nasty to deserve that kind of respect anyway.

Masaru

To his surprise the loud screaming had actually worked. The Huntress had winced from Masaru's screeching and it had been enough to get her on the ground. Caitlin had done what he wanted and removed the bag from the Huntress' person, while Sword had gone around to opening it up. Now all that was left was to stop the Huntress from using the skins within from regenerating. And Masaru had just the plan.

Going for the neck was easy, but they didn't know if that would kill her with that ability to reconstitute herself from whatever was in it. So it was with this in mind that Masaru raised his sword high, execution style as he had done several times before, and ran his way up to the side of the Huntress, letting the light reflect off the flametongue-trailing blade.

"Enough of this."

In one fell swoop, he brought down the blade with both hands towards the Huntress' shoulder, aiming to rend arm from nerve, followed by another slice to the other shoulder after clambering over to the other side of the giant's prone form.

Dyersthel

Arriving on the top of the cliff, the traveler noticed that nobody seemed to be there anymore.
On one hand he probably should have expected that. This was a fight, and they were fighting this colossal enemy- the Huntress, the queen of this domain- and so they had all ran to do just that. On one hand, that kind of approach had its merits. The traveler could see that, surely- the enemy would not be able to deal with all the simultaneous attacks at once.
But on the other hand, there were other ways to fight, and if he had gone there too it would probably get too crowded anyway. No, for now- there was one thing only he could do.

The traveler had been leaning against the first javelin that had crashed into the ground just earlier. It was but a whim of whatever deity might have been spinning the string of fate, but, ever since a few moments before, he had been touching it. And so, the traveler realized immediately. His mind expanded for a moment, just for an instant, as it encompassed the weapon in the ground. All of its aspects- composition, shape, weight, size, and all others- were taken in.
While the fact it was rather large made the process take a bit longer, it was still a simple construct, so it did not take too much. And besides, he would not need to control it precisely. So he would not need attune to it completely.

Instead, if anyone was still looking at the cliff, they would see a javelin rise up from the shattered ground, turn around, and fly towards the Huntress.
It was not a motion done with much precision, but it carried at least great strenght. As if an invisible hand moved it, the spear flew towards the head of the enemy standing before the various fighters.

And in the meantime, the traveler- once he had impressed enough force, naturally- released the control, and started running towards the group.

Glutton-filled Pocket

A chuckle turned into laughter, which reverberated in her mind like a thousand ants biting into her brain. A sickness filled her, which not the fetid air around her caused.

Very well...., said the voice, Then let us loosen those shackles!

Suddenly, Poppy felt something deep within her waking up. Her fingers and toes began to twitch. The mountains of flesh beneath, stretching down miles and miles into the vast space of the knapsack, began to rumble. Life began to stir, to rot and crumble. The walls around her twitched. The laws of this space all began to converge on her, trying to squash her like a bug. Rushed, panicked...

Then...light and the sound of fabric tearing.

Wlíphe, Lonely Remnant of Forgotten Hope

The Huntress recovered fast, but not fast enough. As the heroes were converging upon her, she growled and began to flail with her sickle and claws. But before she could get up, Nasiras burning robe hit her on the head.

To the surprise of maybe even the djinn, the Huntress lit up like dry wood. She didn't scream or even seemed to notice that her cowl and horns were set ablaze. Until one of her horns broke off and fell to the ground. She stopped, reached up to her burning face, and then screeched in panic. "No! NO! Not my trophy!!"

A distraction just in time for Cait to cut the knapsack off and blast it into the air. The Huntress roared in anger and backhanded the pirate-captain, flinging her several yards back with force alone. "You meanies! Not daddies pocket!!"

She leaped after it, at the same time as Sword. Both Masaru and Val tried to stop her, the assassin hitting her back without much effect and the general cutting of her clawed arm. She ignored the loss of her limb, though and reached out for the pocket, just as Sword did the same. The Huntress was bigger and faster, though, and her fingertips already reached the seam.

WHAM!!

A javelin hit her straight in the sides, punching from below her hips and coming out on her right shoulder. The Pretender gasped before being flung away from the blow and slammed into the tower again. Sword grabbed the knapsack and tore it open.

A deluge of filth, bugs, and rotten meat nearly hit the oni in the face. The pocket bloated and then burst open, as it no longer could push against the power inside of it. Riding the avalanche of rot was Poppy, a sickly green aura around her. Her skin flaking off her face, before regrowing just as fast.

"No...no...MY STUFF!" The Huntress stumbled to her feet awkwardly, the javelin stuck inside of her. Her movements crooked, twitchy, like a puppet with strings torn. Her cowl and horns were burned away, revealing a deer-skull, that served like a barbaric helmet for the childlike face underneath it. Without any cloth to hide, the heroes could see the wild, brown hair poking out from inside the skull, the gnashing teeth behind dry lips, the long ears, and a small arm grasping into empty air, where Masaru had cut into the shoulder.

Then she roared loudly, like a wild beast. Thick fog burst out from all around her and began to flood the hilltop, washing down like a flood. "No more playing...now I hunt...", said the Huntress, as she vanished into the mist.

Captain Holloway

“Ack...!!” Caitlin choked as she was backhanded a good distance, skidding along and the ground and gasping hoarsely as she fought to catch her breath. Coughing painfully, she groaned and staggered up onto her feet—relieved at least to be a distance away from the Huntress now.

Poppy...!

The girl was alive, or at least present. Caitlin almost choked again on her own tears of relief before she shook her head and sucked in a breath to compose herself. Cautiously moving near to the others again, she froze as the Huntress seemed to disappear into the mist.

Damn. If I could've planted The Curse on her...

As it stood, they were now as blind as her. She quietened her breathing as much as possible, keeping her blade close to her body and refraining from magic to avoid any glows or metallic glints from giving her away. Cautiously kneeling down to pick up a stone, she threw it as far as she could away from them.

Regardless, she then cast a desperate expression towards the others. She was smart enough to bite her tongue, but she was clearly losing her confidence by this point. She was used to being the Captain; Cutthroat Cait, the Witch of Dh'ireime. Not the mouse struggling to stay alive in the bushes, its predator sadistically stalking her from seemingly every direction.

(“What do we do?”) she mouthed desperately.

bork

Poppy Blake

Power.

If you were willing to unfetter yourself completely, you could always have this.

That was all that Poppy felt as she burst into fresh air and freedom, nearly barreling into Sword in the process. "S-Sorry... she said meekly, as she stumbled out of the bag of now-rotted flesh. "The Huntress got Valentin, I think he's dead, but I managed to blind her—what's happening?" She observed some more to try and understand the situation better.

"Val, you're not dead! And hurt...hurt really badly," Poppy cried as she ran to his side, trying to help him up. She could feel the microbes in the dirt and mud soaked into his clothes. If she didn't do something soon, his wounds would be infected. Poppy couldn't let that happen. "Come on, you were smiling and laughing just a few moments ago, please don't give up, I need you—"

She put a hand over his chest, where the Huntress had struck him, and stopped the oncoming infection in its tracks. Then, where her magic sought to rot and defile, she turned it on its head. Her own face was flaking off and regrowing, after all. A strange green mold grew to cover the wound, seeming to almost graft to the flesh and hold Val's ribs together. It grated against the very core of Poppy's magical instinct, but this would serve as a protective bandage until Val could get some better medical help.

"I don't know if that's going to help with the pain, but...at least the infection's stopped," she noted grimly. "And it'll help hold the rest of you together. If you want, you can lean on me. We have to go band with the others. Form a circle. She wants us split apart..." Poppy looked from side to side in the mist, and, seeing nobody else, moved to help Val stand up if he accepted her offer. "I know about monsters like this. They mislead travelers, and...imitate the voices of their victim's loved ones. Don't respond to any cries for help unless we can know for sure who it is!" This was stated as a more general warning to the rest of the group, if they could hear her.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Mar 24th 2021 at 12:20:55 PM

I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.

Sword initially thought this was a bad idea. She'd remembered, just now, that you weren't supposed to fuck with Wizard Stuff. It was dangerous, and breaking their shit had a tendency to be worse than just letting them use it. That shower of rot and gore just proved her point! She threw herself away from it, hoping she could watch, but the second realization dawned on her: not only had the Huntress killed Poppy, she failed to finish the job. Their opponent had to hide now because she knew too: she'd fucked with the team pet, and now everyone was going to do her in.

Of course, now in the fog, they were blind. The martial artists back home knew all about Sight Beyond Sight, tuning oneself to the universe through perfection of the physical form and shit, but Sword never had patience for it. She preferred the old-fashioned way of listening in. Maybe it'd also help draw her in with the light or whatever, and since grabbing the bag had put Sword at a distance from the rest of the team they'd have a chance to act, but all that high-faluting Tactical Knowledge went right out the window when the fists came out.

"Anyone want a light?" Sword grinned, struck a match off her teeth, and tried to light up her pipe again, keeping a wide stance to react to whatever was inevitably coming for her. "Poppy, you of age for pipes? I can never read humans' ages, Oni physically age slower."

Poppy Blake

"Um...no...sorry..." Poppy said haltingly, looking rather intimidated by the smoking pipe. "I don't think I'm of age...and I have weak lungs, anyways. I-It would be better if you saved your pipe-weed for yourself."

Casting a look around, she squinted into the fog, and made an observation: "We should probably...band together closer. We'll make more noise, but she's coming to get us anyways, and that will give us more protection and chances to hurt her...I think. Sir Masaru, what do you think?"

Edited by JumpingFruit on Mar 24th 2021 at 12:21:19 PM

I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.

The moss cloak that draped the Huntress seemed like it would burn easily, but Nasira hadn't anticipated that the rest of her flesh-shell would go up in flames so quickly as well. With all the attacks directed at her, the Huntress's false body fell apart, revealing her childish, true form buried underneath. Before Nasira could prepare an attack, the true Huntress let loose a burst of fog, clouding the vision of all nearby - she was about to lash her flame out in all direction to try and strike her blind, but stopped herself when she realized Masaru would end up as collateral damage from the ensuing inferno.

Instead, Nasira drew in a deep breath to refocus herself, clenching her fists as she suppressed her inner flame back within her body, eyes darkening from blaze to mere embers. Her fire was a powerful tool, yes, but also indiscriminate and dangerous to her current allies if left unchecked. Moving towards the undead general, Nasira held a defensive (if amateurish) stance beside him, ready to follow his lead.

What to do now...? Is she able to sense us through this dense fog, and if so, how? How can we respond in kind...? How can we find her...? Nasira's thoughts were interrupted with a welcome surprise - the nervous but still very alive voice of Poppy, hidden somewhere amidst the mist. And with that, a brief memory flashed into mind, when Poppy and Val volunteered to scout the forests:

"If I can use my own magic to sense another source with the same intensity..."

"Magic sense." Nasira spoke clearly into the fog so Poppy could hear, saying no more and no less. The Huntress may well put those two words together, but which of the party had the capacity for it would be lost on her at least. Nasira's body tensed as she waited for her voice to bring a counterattack from the predator stalking the fog.

Poppy Blake

"U-Understood," Poppy squeaked as she was spoken to, clenching her hands at her sides and concentrating. She sent out tendrils of green magic into the mist, which occasionally bumped against one of her comrades but recoiled apologetically, leaving them unharmed. The sensors felt their way further along until Poppy could expand her senses no more.

This would give them a good enough early warning should the Huntress approach from any direction. Poppy only hoped that she wouldn't plan an ambush from above, as that would be only somewhat easy to detect but hard to stop indeed.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Apr 5th 2021 at 10:06:15 AM

I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.

Val

"Ow, ow ow ow ow..." Val let out a groan, staggering to his feet with Poppy's help—

Wait, Poppy?

"Oh! Poppy! We thought you were dead! Good to see our initial assumptions were wrong."

So...now what? Val had no sense-crazy-people-in-fog powers, and he was nigh-useless out in the open like this. Wish I'd started looking for her sooner. Then I could've broken her neck and we wouldn't have to deal with any of this.

Ah well. What's done is done. And hey, we lasted pretty long for a bunch of mortals going against pseudo-gods!

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked. "Search for her? Cheer the rest of you on? Write a cryptic warning so the people who come after us know what not to do?"

"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."

Dyersthel

Fun fact about psychic powers: they work even in a deep mist.
Sure, the traveler's vision was somewhat hampered- things in the distance were a bit hazy, and shapes took a moment to distinguish, and some other minor stuff- but overall, he could to a large extent see.
As such it did not take him much to reach the disoriented and quite distraught group. It seemed as though one of them had been gotten to already. After the battle, he might be able to help with mending her wounds, but as it stood now, there were more urgent priorities. He addressed the group and spoke:

"I can see, you know?"

It could be argued that he said that perhaps a bit too casually. But to be fair, it could also be argued that to him, that was an obvious fact. Still, 'could see' was a very strong statement. Better to contextualize.

"Or well, I can't make out shapes in the distance, and some colors are a bit hazy, but I do not think we need worry about details seeing as what kind of enemy we are facing."

He scanned the area again. Any trace of the Huntress? If so, he'd inform the group at once. And if not, he'd continue:

"I do wonder what this mist is, but no matter. I'll tell you all where to aim, if you'll let me be your eyes"

Edited by DarknessAwaits on Apr 7th 2021 at 6:09:24 PM

Wlíphe, Lonely Remnant of Forgotten Hope

Seconds crept by. Nothing happened. They all gathered close by, managing to find themselves in the thick fog, taking up a defensive position and straining their senses to pick up their foe. It was Dyersthel who first noticed something was off.

The Huntress wasn't here.

The Huntress - Ascension of the Flesh

There was no ambush coming because she had not caused the mist to prepare for one. Instead, she had hidden away and scrambled from the hilltop. Bursting out of the fogbank, she stormed down the hillside and towards the gathered beastmen. The chieftess saw her coming and realized what was about to happen. Snarling wildly, she gripped her ax and bellowed her men to attack.

Yet, none of them followed her. Shivering in fear and innate awe before their creator, the beastmen dared not to move, even as the Huntress plunged into their midst. Her sickle cutting them down like reed. Blood and flesh drawn in gory arcs around her. The Chieftess howled in rage and frustration, appearing behind the Huntress and burying her ax into her back. Again and again, she chopped, even as the mad Pretender ignored her and drew the flesh around her into her form, growing and growing.

Bulging, grotesque muscles formed out of the heads and mouths and eyes of dozens of doomed beastmen. Arms lined with teeth and moaning mouths. Legs bulging with spasming, bleeding flesh. A towering torso filled with small hands reaching out, desperate to grasp at something to pull the still-living people out of this flesh-golem.

The beastmen fled. Scattering in all directions in sheer terror before the monstrosity their creator had become. The Huntress now rose up, towering almost at a height of the tower on the hill itself. Her head now almost sunken in completely into her grotesque body, blind and deaf. And roaring in maddening glee.

She reached around and grabbed the chieftess, plucking her from her back like a tick. Then, without even caring about the chieftess biting her fingers or roaring defiantly, she tossed her against the ground, smashing her over the rocks like a discarded toy, until she stopped moving. Letting the broken body go, The Huntress turned to the hill, where the fog now slowly dissipated.

She pulled out her sickle, with bone and flesh crawling from her shoulder towards the blade, until it had increased in size tenfold, gleaming with a wicked curve in the sun.

Then she jumped up and attacked.

Poppy Blake

"Look out!" Poppy had shouted as the fog dissipated and it became clear to her through her sensory magics what had happened. "By the gods, some of them are still alive!" She whimpered, then, and dove to one side as the sickle came whooshing over her head.

"Knees and ankles, someone go for the knees and ankles!" she declared, getting back up with magic flaring in her hands. "I'll see what I can do to her joints. She's already blind and deaf in there, but we still need to be careful!"

With that, she started flinging explosive streams of rot magic at the giant flesh construct in front of her, staying at range and hoping that she was too small to be of any major interest.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Apr 7th 2021 at 1:04:24 AM

I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.

Captain Holloway

“...Well at least we can see her...” Caitlin uttered weakly at the sight of the thing, swallowing hard as she realised she couldn't take comfort in ballistae to face down this beast. “I'll... oh, bollocks! I'll hold her in place! Do as the girl says; go for her ankles! Quickly!”

As she said this she aimed her palm towards the Huntress' massive and pulsating form, clutching her wrist with her other hand to brace herself as she released the mightiest windblast she had set loose yet. It was prolonged, like a constant galeforce wind—and though it made her grimace and groan audibly with strain, she was unwilling to let up until her companions had gotten a fair shot in.

“I-I can't hold her for long!”

Bloody black magic feels like it's gonna rip my arm off...!

Almost as if in accordance with her thoughts, a putrid black rot seemed to begin coursing through her veins; causing the arm she was channeling through to pale especially and making the skin upon it dry out and begin to crack. Biting her lip, she forced back the nausea and focused on suffering it out. She had more important things to do than fret over her own wellbeing right now.

Caitlin uses Bind (1) via prolonged Windblast.

Edited by Enirboreh on Apr 7th 2021 at 9:22:34 AM

bork

The spells impacted on the Huntresses swollen joints and the flesh began to bloat and rot. Giant pustules and abscesses began to form, exploding and forming again. But the flesh was so thick, that from down on the ground it made little difference. Unless Poppy could aim at a weak spot or could maintain her spell without interruption, this would not suffice.

And the Huntress clearly did not intend on letting the girl survive a second time. The giant sickle crashed into the ground just a few inches away from Poppy and the giant left hand clawed into the rocky ground behind her, clearly searching for her.

The Huntress could feel the rot spreading from her legs. Raising her sickle again, she let it smash down towards Poppy's position. Too fast for her to dodge.

Then, Cait stepped in front of her. She raised her arm and a stormwind broke from her hand. Massive gales smashed into the sickle, twisting and turning around it. A storm broke out, localized around the entire length of the arm. The Huntress struggled and tore, but she was held in place. Her prodigious strength evenly matched with Caits wind-magic for now, as the pirate struggled to maintain the assault.

Blood gushing from her arm, as her skin ripped open and her fingers slowly got twisted by her own powers. And yet, she kept it up, fighting through the pain.

Edited by TheNohen on Apr 7th 2021 at 10:21:00 AM