An unsettling vibration ran up Zeyruun's arms as the tip of a dagger slammed into the head of his hammer. With such force that attack would have been lethal, he thanked Flau, not that she had done anything but it felt right, like he owed it to her for some reason. A surge of energy twisted and turned in his body, a gut wrenching, eye opening, heart racing energy. The sensation clawed at his mind, urging him to fight. Or is it telling me to run?? Zeyruun thought. He couldnt describe the feeling yet he knew what to call it, it was a natural feeling apparently. Zeyruun tightened his grip, his adrenaline making his heart race. Whatever this was, this danger, Zeyruun needed to fight it. Not because it was the right thing to do but because it was what he thought he needed to do.

Destroy darkness. his mind said.

"Destroy darkness...To bring forth light." Zeyruun whispered to himself.

He bent his knees in anticipation, his leg muscles growing taut. He didn't physically feel Akshay, the other being, behind him. He knew he was there however, mere inches away from Zeyruun's back. If he was as instinctive as Zeyruun was, he would also be in a defensive stance; or offensive. Offensive with a sheild? The definition of shield implies protection, but can you be offensive with it? This Akshay must feel like that shield is a part of him, as if it is integral to his being, much like this hammer is to me. If there was anybody who could uncover such secrets about the shield, it would be him. Zeyruun hadn't realised till now just how much trust he was putting into Akshay, the being who guards his back. Zeyruun will repay him.

I will be his warhammer while he, my shield.

"Come now!" Zeyruun bellowed at the air, his low voice reverberating. This sense of danger has not yet come to pass.

"Reveal yourself!"

Part 2A - Alnaera, the Nameless Savant
@SilverPaw

---

"So very characteristic of you, Master. Always seeking answer, even when there are none.." Vassa replied to your queries. It was faint, but you certainly felt a tinge of nostalgia within their otherwise flat and lifeless tone.
"I am what you need me to be. Sometimes a servant, sometimes an informant, and yes.. Sometimes I am the one who taught you how to walk as well," they continued with evenly paced pronunciation.

With that said, Vassa's scriptures began to fizz out into sparks of ember, and coalesced at the crystal at the tip of your staff. A familiar sensation flowed from the crystal into the palm of your hand. Power, raw and untamed; and wisdom to direct and contain them. The two contrasting essence filled your very being. For the first time since you opened your eyes in this void, you felt complete.

Before you could celebrate, however, you felt a ripple in the void. Something else had awaken. Something powerful.

"Master.. I cannot express how much I would love to stay and catch up with you, but we have something to do. Urgently."

Somehow, some way, you knew what Vassa was referring to. The Mad Goddess. You were here to stop her.

With a nod, you acknowledged Vassa's prompt. "Lead me to her."

---

---

Part 2B - Gael, the Puppet of Bow
@PigeonOfAstora

---

Gael swore she saw Olas's eyes grew tearful for a split moment when she asked the King on how she looked. They hide it well, however, and Gael did not want to pursue the matter.

"Yes, of course Master. You look perfect," Olas said with a spirited voice, as if to match Gael's enthusiasm. "You looked exactly like you were," The King continued inwardly.

"I'm sorry, where were we? Oh right, the test. Let's see," said Olas as they cleared their throat.
"Deeper inside the forest, there is a lost puppy. A big bad mother wolf had found it, and having lost her child recently, she wanted to make the puppy hers," The King recited as if telling a story to a dear child.
"But the puppy does not belong to her. It had a family waiting for it back home. I want you to save this puppy from the mother wolf."

The test sounded straightforward enough, Gael thought to herself. And thus, eager to proof herself, she stretched and ran towards the deeper end of the forest.

Behind her, Olas prayed for her safe return. And as the prayer reached its end, a gust of wind flew towards the string of Gael's bow and lingered there.

Part 3 - Cythril, Wanderer of the Void
@Ammokkx

---

"Cythril.." Lisami repeated your name as she rested her chin on her hand in thought. "I like it. It's a pretty name," the Goddess continued a short while later, her lips parting into a small smile as she said so. "Though honestly, it surprises me that one of the Void's wraith would come here with.. Amicable intentions."

Your body froze at Lisami's last sentence. Another memory assaulted your head: The war against the Goddesses, and subsequently, the death of Lemouri - Goddess of Endings. In this memory, you were one of the creations that spearheaded the war. You actively took part in it. You can vividly felt the imaginary weight of your makeshift weapon on your hands, the feel of its coarse wooden handles, and the smell of rusted steel from its crude blades.

Cold swear began to form on your back. You were scared. Was the Goddess seeking revenge? Would you be the target of her ire?

"But I guess people do change. So tell me, why are you here?"

You relaxed your body. It would seem that Lisami was not hostile towards you. Not yet, at least. So you decided to sit down and chat with her. She was curious about what you did prior to coming into her garden, your thought about the void, your first impression on Her garden, and many other things. You noticed that She was an attentive listener. Like an ideal mother figure, you thought.

For a moment, you thought you had fun.

But all beginnings must have an end. After talking for a short while, Lisami said something about uninvited guests breaking into Her garden, and excused herself. So now you are left alone in the vast garden. Naturally your mind returned to the wooden shaft that was half-buried on the ground behind you. It was somewhat familiar, but sinister at the same time.

As you approached the seemingly-out-of-place-object, you heard a rustling nearby. And not too long after, two people came out from behind the hedgerows. Two.. Females? One of them had pointy ears and long, green hair; while the other sported dark short hair and had horns jutting out of her head. Weirdly enough, the two were just as surprised as Cythril to find each other.

What are these creations doing in Lisami's domain?

Before any of you get to ask questions, however, you felt something swooped in from above too fast to visibly identify beyond movement. Then, a buzzing sound - growing louder and softer in less than a blink of an eye. The three of you quickly formed a circle and scanned the environment. Suddenly, you heard creaking coming from above the parallel passageway, the one crowned with roots from a tree. Looking ahead you saw the creature.

A Dragonfly. It was huge. Easily five meters long, and about one meter in height. It brushed its front legs over it's mandibles and made a low gurgling sound. It was poised and ready to strike. And as its wing began to flutter, the three of you instinctively ducked, thus evading the creature's strike by a hair's breadth. The creature was surely powerful, even if not to Lisami or any of the Pillar's monstrous degree.

The two newcomers - or should you say, trespassers - hurried into their feet and readied their arms. The limber green-haired lady - a bow; and the raven-haired horned lady a staff with a glowing crystal on its end. Yet Cythril, somehow, realized that he was not the target of the Dragonfly's attack.

Would he stand with his fellow mortals, without a weapon in hand? Or will he reach out for the half-buried object that had been calling him for a while now? Or would he simply watch as the monster and the creation clash?

Akshay was swift enough to whirl his shield into position and harmlessly knock aside the dagger, but with his understanding still running thin, his instincts weren't sharp enough to pick up where it had come from.

He spared a glance to his strange new companion, perhaps hoping Zeyruun might have more of an idea what was going on, but it seemed they were both at a loss.

On the positive side, now he had his shield, and Zeyruun had his weapon, and - perhaps more importantly than that - Zeyruun was just as prepared to fight together as he was. Good. That put them on good ground.

Akshay pulled his shield in a little tighter towards him, and slid his foot in a broad circle to bring himself back-to-back with Zeyruun. Whoever their assailant was, they'd find it much harder to take the two by surprise.

The garden path felt warm under his bare feet, but he didn't much like how much cover there was for their attacker.

"Do as he says," he addressed the garden surrounding them, "or else we will find you soon enough."

Hopefully their mystery guest would be baited into giving up their position, but he wasn't going to count on it. Akshay began taking a very careful stock of his senses.

@goodmode@Undying Curiosity

Lykantha's mouth watered at the smell of nature that assaulted her nose. The foliage was a wall of green before her. She ignored the baiting and drew her dagger. A horror she was be but one that knew her enemy. She sniffed at the air: the tang of sweat was on the earthy wet tang filling the forest. Her first strike had been one of a test. Fear she sensed in the shield-man, but there was something that sent her blood-lust to the back of her mind. A will to fight. Even prey deserved respect.

Caution, a voice breathed in her mind.

Two against one. She knew her odds weren't good but failure wasn't what would come. She circled them using the foliage as her cover. They faced different directions, a smart tactic but what of the sides? She sprang form a tree branch, dagger held against her forearm. She willed her elements to mingle and smoke bloomed in her wake. She aimed for the shieldman's arm with a stabbing strike ready to run in another direction leaving a smoke cloud around her opponents.

@flowersrgr8
Chapter 0 - A Rude Awakening

---

You woke up to a certain blast of heat. You were peaceful inside the cocoon of nothingness, but now you were awake. Something awakened you. Some voice, and strange visions that seemed so vivid, yet so distant. In it, you were a warrior. A soldier, fighting in losing battles upon losing battles. Everytime you raise your weapon, you lost something of importance to you. Yet you could not lay your arms down and accept fate. No, your very being rejects that idea.

Thus, you opened your eyes once again. Greeting you was the scenery of a colloseum - grand, beautiful in its construction, and full of the scent of death and destruction. As your eyes began to focus, you saw the visage of a gigantic minotaur. On its feet were the corpse of a being that you somehow knew belonged to your race. Its lifeless body was veiled in both darkness and flame, as did yours.

You were dazed. Aside from a name, you did not know who you are, or why you are here. All you had, was a cloth tied around your loin, and an oversized polearm that ended with a huge pick on one side, and a hammer on the other. And a seething rage.

Noticing you, the minotaur let out a long sigh. "One prodigal son after another," It spat with a tired and disappointed voice. "So what is it going to be then? If you were to rush headlong into your doom, make sure you do better than your brother!" The beast taunted as it crushed the skull of your dead kin beneath its hoof.

... What would you do?

"P...pretty?" Cythril said in response to Lisami calling his name that. His ears perked up, he rose to his feet and he scratched his cheek in light embarrassment. He was trying to come up with something to say, but no words came to mind. It didn't seem like the goddess was too bothered by it as She continued to talk shortly after, even without his input. It caused another headache for Cythril, the pain assaulting him shortly after Her mention of the void's wraiths. He had to clutch his head and shut his eyes tightly to not get overwhelmed by the migraine. Flashes of memories assaulted him, taking complete control of him for a moment.

He could remember it all. The smell of blood. The impact of the weapon in both his hands slicing through any who stood in his way. The feelings he had at the height of battle, and his hatred for the gods. Cythril wished death unto every last one, an unrelenting paragon and martyr who lead the people in an unholy crusade.

But he couldn't remember what he was holding. It was like there was some part of him that's missing, a hazy blur among all the crystal clear stills.

He spontaneously stumbled on his feet. Guided by instinct, he backed away a little from Lisami. "What was... am I...?" he muttered, but without being able to find any words to finish the thought. Cythril repeated phrases like it a few times, each with a short break, trying to sort out his memories.

All he wanted before entering this garden was a chance, but what chance? Another swing at Lisami? A chance to run away from his own mistakes? Redemption? Cythril looked up at his... enemy. He should be fighting Her. Trying to kill Her... but he couldn't. He didn't feel at ease. The emotions of what he'd done screamed at him to lash out, to spill the goddess' blood. No matter how much it yelled at him, Cythril wouldn't be able to. He no longer had his weapon... and no longer felt the way he had.

"I... have changed," he replied.

They talked. It was comforting. Cythril felt terrified of Lisami before, but the more She entertained him, the less he felt on edge. It was only a small comfort; his memories kept coming back to nag at him. No matter how much the man tried to take his mind off it, he couldn't ignore these revelations. Even though they were mere flashes, they were undoubtedly real. The cynic inside him screamed not to trust Her, that She had gone mad. Cythril didn't want to listen. Even if his memories are true, the Lisami in front of him is not what the stories painted her to be.

What his memories told him She was.

The goddess had to excuse herself at some point in their conversation and left the man on his own. Cythril didn't like the sound of the "uninvited guests" she used as the excuse. Without Lisami around, his eyes were drawn to the object he'd noticed before. It was Her 'trophy' buried in the center. He stepped over to it, the handle that stuck out of the floor almost beckoning him. More pain assaulted his head as he got closer. The object was nostalgic. Cythril knew it belonged to him. He slowly started to reach for it in trance-like state, but a sudden rustle snapped him out of it. Cythril glanced over in the direction that said rustle had come from. From the hedgerows. Two figures popped out them.

"What are you-?"

Cythril never got to finish the question. A shockwave caused the attire of the all the garden's visitors to flutter in a gust of wind. Cythril turned his back to the other two, but still took a few steps in their direction. It put the 'trophy' in front of his face. He glanced at it for a moment, right before his instincts kicked in. Danger. It took him no time at all to crouch down and a keep his head low. Something swooped by and missed him by a hair's breadth. He looked up, scanning for his assailant. It didn't take long to find. A giant dragonfly, twice the size of a person. It wasn't looking at him. It didn't even seem to register him. The bug's beady eyes were transfixed on the two females that had entered the domain. Protecting it from trespassers.

'I don't need to do anything here,' Cythril thought. He could just let the two of them deal with this. He ignored the commotion, turning his eyes back to the object. 'I don't need to, but...' his thoughts trailed off again. No. This wasn't right. He still hadn't made sense of those memories. He needed to draw it out. That extension of himself. It was the only way.

Cythril stepped closer. He wrapped both his hands around the shaft.

A pain first assaulted his hands, then his arms. It started as a light shock, then bony tendrils sprouted from the object to stab into Cythril's skin. Was it testing him? Were they trying to repel him? He didn't care about those questions. This object was his. Damned be that a nobody resigns themselves to nothing.

With a mighty heave, Cythril pulled out his very own Excalibur. That said, it was no sword. The long, wooden shaft ending in a curved blade... it could only have been a farmer's scythe. No ordinary weapon, just a tool. A blade meant for reaping wheat. That's all he had, once. The one thing he'd been able to get his hands on. In order to defend himself... to rage war against the gods. It felt right in Cythril's hands. It made him feel tingly, nostalgic.

With his scythe in hand, he could feel a hint of the arcane flowing through him. It wasn't much, but it was familiar. Cythril once used spells and techniques. Now, he'd use them again.

He turned back to the dragonfly, gauging its behaviour relative to the two newcomers. His scythe was crying for blood. It wanted to revolt, to lash out against something. Thousands of voices all gathered in his head, crying out in a singular purpose: Battle. Cythril could ignore himself no longer.

The arcane magic that ran through his body began to flow into the wooden handle of his scythe. It all gathered on the edge of its blade, and as it did, Cythril dashed off to the side. He wanted to find the opportunity for a clean shot at the unaware foe. The magic coursing through his weapon first formed to coat the blade in raging flames, then those flames quickly morphed into the crackling of electricity. Cythril spun his body around to slash the air with his scythe, sending a bolt of lightning crashing straight toward the oversized insect. Unfortunately for him, not only was he was clumsier with his weapon than he had been, but the insect had also caught on. It moved to the side, Cythril's lightning harmlessly striking one of the walls.

The situation started looking bad now that he'd lost the element of surprise. Even if there was distance between the two of them and even if it was three-on-one, this dragonfly was nimble and quick to react. Cythril didn't have time to charge another spell, so he brought his scythe up closer. He needed to reposition, but his first worry was to dodge any counter-attack his self-made adversary would launch.

Huladuras stood before a mighty beast now, seemingly having just finished with another less fortunate soul than himself. But, rather than listen to the creature, Huladuras simply looked down at himself, extending his free, left hand forwards to inspect it. It was marked by flame and ash, scorch and burn, and so was the rest of his body, only covered by a thin loincloth that covered his privates. Then, he looked right, up and down the shaft of the polearm, inspecting it, and then turning it sideways in his hand, gripping it with two hands. Finally his eyes gazed upon the minotaur king before him.

"I am Huladuras," he stated, letting his foot drag backwards through the dirt of the colloseum, entering a fighting position. "And I am no prodigal son." Without any further warning he rushed forwards, the polearm swinging back before he sent it hurtling forwards towards the minotaur, swinging the hammer at it's face. Of course, Huladuras had not seen how the minotaur crushed the former 'prodigal son' and so needed to find out just what this beast was capable of. In the off chance that the minotaur dodged the attack -- or even better, it hit -- he would swing the polearm back the way it had come from, in reverse, trying to hack the pick into the minotaurs head.

Of course, there was no guarantee that this would work. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Alnaera raised a questioning brow at the Pillar. “So, we’ve worked together before,” she deduced. “Well, that’s good to know you’re reliable,” she stated, and offered Vassa a pleased smirk.

The entity’s scriptures finally burned out, the remaining sparks flying to her staff. The horned female received a significant power boost, and she suddenly felt rather full, but content. Her whole being buzzed with power, and the natural high had her grinning widely.

She did not have the chance to indulge or contemplate her regained abilities for long, however. A thrum of something absolute resounded within the very fabric of reality, and Vassa’s prompt only confirmed Alnaera’s inklings as to what it signified. “Yes…I recall,” she murmured. “Lead me to her,” she ordered with a sharp nod.

As she was led through the vast landscape, Alnaera considered the situation. One Goddess had been ended – or rather, had ended herself – and another had gone mad. Was the solution to bring down Lisami, then? But how would such a thing be accomplished? Bargaining, perhaps? Attempting to restore the balance? What’s the supposed Equalizer doing, even? Damned Leshura…

She didn’t have the answer, but perhaps simply meeting the Goddess would open up new possibilities. Before long, she came up to a hedge, and after forcing her way through it, found herself in a garden. But she was not alone; there were two other strangers there – a green-haired, pointy-eared female and a wolf-eared, gray-maned male. Alnaera blinked at the duo. Before she could ask who they were or what was going on, an obnoxious buzzing distracted her. It was just as well that it did, for its source was an enormous dragonfly getting ready to strike. She barely ducked in time, and saw that so did the two strangers.

Alnaera sent a fireball at the insect, which it easily avoided. The male, after recovering a weapon which had been buried in the garden, fared no better with his lightning strike. The Arcane Voyager narrowed her eyes at the enemy, observing it for a moment. She quickly concluded that its moments would need to be restricted.

She waited till the dragonfly showed signs of swooping once again, readying a counter-strike. Channeling her innate energy through her staff, Alnaera unleashed several tendrils of darkness through the tip of her weapon at the approaching insect. The shadowy coils stretched upwards, wrapping around the enemy one by one. They did not harm it; that was not their purpose.

Rather, its wings would be confined for a moment. Unfortunately, she could not reel the huge thing in, and as it struggled in her hold, Alnaera was in danger of getting lifted off the ground. She swiftly utilized the bottom of her staff to gouge the earth’s surface, drawing a quick but crude anchor symbol upon it. Then she slammed the top of the staff onto the drawn circle (representing the head of the anchor), and transferred the already existent chain of darkness upon it. This freed her from the physical part of the struggle against the creature, though she still had to continuously power her spell and sigil, neither of which would hold for long. As much as it frustrated her to do so, she had to rely on the strangers for help.

“Now!” she roared, then quickly added a hissed, “hurry and attack it!”

Zeyruun waited for what felt like an eternity. Only a few moments had passed but the adrenaline and energy that coursed through his body made time feel slower. He didn't quite understand what this mystery person was doing. Why attack now? Could the attacker not see Zeyruun and Akshay both standing before higher beings? It was flat out disrespectful, no, blasphemous. Zeyruun clenched his war hammer tighter in his hands. A fire began to burn in his stomach, swelling of emotion threatened to burst out. "You Dare- " He stopped. From his peripherals, he saw mist, no, something more ominous. Before he could gauge exactly what just happened his vision was swarmed with a cloud of thick smoke.

Zeyruun's lack of armour was made painfully apparent when he realized just how defenceless he was. Of course, he had Akshay behind him but his front wasn't exactly well equipped to block anything. This smoke made his mind race a bit too much, he needed to stay calm in situations like these. This has been Zeyruun's first altercation, his first reason to fight, his first anything in this life. His subconscious forced memories into Zeyruun's mind. Memories of the flames of battles lost over and over again, Memories of endless suffering at the hands of a vengeful god and memories of Zeyruun himself fighting for a cause that he now no longer saw reason in...

Stop It! You're in Battle!

Zeyruun blinked with wide eyes as if he had just woken from a terrifying nightmare. His wide eyes narrowed trying to peer through the smoke. Nothing. He would have to rely on his other senses, this attacker was masterful in their execution, it would likely be Zeyruun's sense of touch that would help him here. The vibrations in the ground of Akshay behind him and the beating of his heart were the only things that Zeyruun felt. Another moment passed and Zeyruun felt...something else. No time. He must attack now or miss the opportunity.

Zeryuun slid his right hand up the shaft of the hammer until the knuckle of his thumb just barely touched the hammers head. He brought the hammerhead close to his right shoulder and his left hand raised to shoulder height. This stance looked so odd, yet, felt as normal as any other stance he would hold. Zeyruun wouldn't fight like this, this stance was intended for a single lunging attack that would throw his weight into a powerful thrust. He charged forward towards the 'something' he heard. When he felt he was close he pushed out with his hammer with all the might he could muster praying it would connect with something.

That doesn't sound cryptic at all. Gael thought as she waved her goodbye to Olas. Out of politeness, Gael withheld her tongue at the brief hint of recognition in Olas' eyes. Had they met before? And why did Gael feel so uneasy leaving Olas behind in the woods? Gael's mind was a frustratingly cryptic and stubborn, seemingly dropping occassional hints from a broth of confusing rememberance like a drunk storyteller. Deciding that overthinking about her past was not her forte, she marched through the woods.

It wasn't long before she was stumbling through a thicket and out into a clearing with...two other entities? They were both humanoid like herself and each wielding a weapon of their own. One horned, the other with a wolf's ears and tail. Gael wasn't sure what her ears and tail were from, since her examination concluded little more than that they were pointy and heard far more noise than Gael cared to pay attention to. Her best guesses were cat or fox, both meaning that the man with the wolf's ears was not 'her race' per se. Neither of them looked particularily hostile, and they looked just as surprised as she was to discover each other, which was a good sign. Perhaps they could point her to where this puppy was, or whatever that was supposed to represent.

"Hey! Any of you seen a puppy somewhere-" Gael started before being cut off by a giant insect that screamed past just a hair length above her ears, before circling tightly above their heads. Her ears rang from the buzz, the extra sensitive ears aching from the sudden noise.
Rude. She thought, as she properly identified the assaultor. A dragonfly, about 5 meters long and 1 meter wide, with angry clicking mandibles and eyes that seemed like it could use some arrows through it. It didn't look like a puppy for sure - but considering how riddles often twisted its subject and iconography, Gael wasn't crossing out anything.

The two strangers did seem to have the same idea, flinging bolts of fire and lightning against the dragonfly, which responded by quick aerial dives and maneauvers. Close, but they were missing their mark. The bigger plus side though, was the confirmation that at least for now, she wasn't going to be jumped on by the either of them.
Gael attentively tracked the dragonfly, careful not to let her own bolts loose too fast. It was clear that this foe was gonna need some more thinking. And that thinking came in the form of dark chains that wrapped itself around the insect as it was diving back down, anchoring it to the ground. No time to be impressed, though! "Got it!" Gael replied to the call for help from the staff wielding woman as she moved in, bow ready.

Instead of knocking an arrow, however, the ranger rounded to face the confined insect, holding her longbow by the limb with both hands like a club above her head. "Sit!" She brought down the bow with all the fury of a grumpy huntress who didn't want to spend her first concious hours fighting an annoying flying insect, giving a satisfying thwack and a squelch as the bow cracked through one of its bulging eyes and brought up thick green blood. The dragonfly gave an insect analogue of a pained howl, crashing into the ground from the attack. Losing little time, she raised a fist to punch out the other eye and completely blind the insect. The bug screeched in pain and skittered back to flight, batting Gael away with its giant wings. Tch - she should have gone for the wings! But even as it struggled at the last vestiges of the chains, the insect was noticeably swaying and unable to steer itself properly.

@flowersrgr8
Chapter 0 - A Rude Awakening

---

Responding to your reply - both verbal and action - the Minotaur Monarch let out an excited grin and a short grunt before meeting your charge with one of his own. Their left arm was raised in anticipation of your attack, and met your hammer right at the base of its head. As they collide, the Beast twisted their wrist and grabbed your weapon, locking it in place before forcefully yanking it and you towards themselves. He was aiming for a headbutt.

Your opening gambit was a dud as the Beast's movement were way more refined than his brutish looks, but you were no slouch either. Using the momentum from your opponent's pull and your weapon's leverage, you coiled your body and jumped - avoiding the beast's charge and positioning yourself on their blindspot. Then, using gravity as a boost, you launched a drop kick at the beast's cranium.

The Minotaur reflexively cocked their head sideways to avoid the blow, but his position was simply too awkward to avoid the attack entirely. Your drop kick hit the Beast straight at their left shoulder with a resounding shockwave. You were surprised at how much power you exerted with that one attack - leagues above what an average mortal should be able to - but what shocked you more was the hardness of which the Minotaur's thick hide and solid muscle was. It was as if you were hitting a slab of steel. Sinewy, flexible slab of steel, if there were ever such a thing.

"Hmph. Not bad," the Beast commended you, right before he grabbed your leg and spinned you around with the intention of slamming you straight to the ground.

You quickly kicked the beast's palm with your other leg to avoid the worst, and thankfully it worked. The Minotaur's grip loosened and you managed to twist your body out of their intended trajectory - flying sideways instead of downward. You landed safely twenty feet from your opponent, relatively unscathed aside from minor scrapes here and there as you skid around on the floor.

You then rose on your feet in preparation for a follow up attack, yet what greeted you were not the Beast - but rather your own weapon. The hammer head crashed on the ground just inches before you, breaking and creating small stalagmites over the obsidian floor. Sweat trickled down your face. Had you took a second longer to get up, your head would have been crushed.

"You said you were no prodigal son," a voice boomed, breaking your moment of daze. "Then tell me, what are you?"

Part 4 - Cythril, Alnaera and Gael
@Ammokkx@SilverPaw@PigeonOfAstora

---

The party made good progress in their clash with the giant dragonfly. While the oversized insect's movement were too fast for them to follow, after a few clashes the three-person-team had managed to grasp their opponent's move pattern. For example, it would seem that the dragonfly was actively avoiding Cythril whenever it swoop in to attack, and that the creature was rather sensitive to magic, and will avoid mana waves whenever present.

Either by sheer luck or by harmonious cooperation, Cythril and Alnaera's firing of spells one after the other had turned the flow of the battle on the party's favor. Cythril's lightning, while failing to hit the dragonfly directly, had forced it to stay at lower altitude where Cythril's weapon and spells would be the least effective. Combined with the nuisance from Alnaera's fireball, the dragonfly's patience were running thin. As it swooped to off the female spellcaster, it had basically doomed itself. Tendrils of darkness sprouted from the tip of Alnaera's staff, and anchored the creature to the ground, making every movement slow and cumbersome. Then, with the intention of finishing the monstrosity off, Gael sprung from her hiding and slammed her bow at the dragonfly's compound eyes.

A wet squelching sound erupted as silvery-green liquid burst from what were once the dragonfly's right compound eyes. It was a sticky, stinky substance that burns one's eyes and nose - figuratively, thankfully. Though perhaps Gael were eager to say otherwise. Being the closest to the vicinity, her hand and face were splashed by the liquid and made it impossible to open her eyes - or breathe properly, in that matter. Her attempt to wipe the substance off, too, had been unsuccessful given that both her hands were also covered with the annoying goo.

An eye for an eye, it would seem.

Meanwhile, the dragonfly trashed around in pain, and managed to break free from Alnaera's shadow binding, and let out a shrill cry. Landing on its six feet, its remaining eye glowed white as its wings began to flap and flicker with silvery light. Then, with another cry, six blades of wind erupted from the creature, and straight at the group of three.

The two mages were ready for the attack, but the same could not be said to the archer. Still blinded and distracted by the pungent odor of the dragonfly's blood, she seemed to be anything but ready for the attack. Without help, the attack would connect for sure.

Cythril didn't care about the other two fighters. Even when their teamwork managed to land a blow on the bug he kept his eyes focused straight on-target. He was laser-focused on his opponent, watching its movements, waiting for a chance to strike. As it stood, the duo of females were in his line of fire. He couldn't cast any spells without either of them eating it in the dragonfly's stead. The insect thrashed around enough to break out of the shadowy tendrils cast by the horned one, then started to rapidly flap its wings. Both they and the remaining eye glowed. A flash of clarity shot through Cythril as he realised what it was trying to do.

'Magic!'

The bug couldn't easily swoop in and land a hit on all three of them. The space between each of them was too large, and that aside, Cythril was split even further from the other two. If the insect used magic, however, it could launch an attack in every direction. Cythril focused his mana through his scythe again, his perception of the world around him fading back into a black void. He cleared his mind in preparation; only him and the dragonfly existed in that moment. He gripped his weapon tightly. Water began to coil around the shaft and blade of it, forming a loop with itself. Magic made it so the flow kept going indefinitely, or at the very least, until Cythril loosened his focus. Several blades of razor-sharp wind were sent flying toward him not long after the spell was prepped, courtesy of the dragonfly. Good thing he was prepared to face it.

'Keep struggling... I'll be the one to put you out of your misery!'

Cythril dashed straight toward the blades of wind while keeping his scythe behind him. Before meeting his demise head-on, Cythril heaved his scythe upwards. The water that had coiled around it suddenly shot forward, forming a wave. The wave crashed straight into the Dragonfly's attack, both shattering against each-other. Cythril's sprang into droplets, launched upwards by the dissipating wind. The man used the momentum from both his sprint and swing to jump into the forming whirlpool, rotating the scythe in his hand and spinning himself around with a full turn. The water gathered back around his weapon, taking on the same coil shape as before. Cythril channeled his mana back through the water, making it grow colder and colder until the scythe became layered with ice.

The last part of his attack used the downwards momentum to strike his blade into the earth. The moisture on the grass he struck froze over in an instant. That, however, wasn't the attack. The ice around his scythe drained itself and went into the ground, shooting out a frozen pathway forwards. As soon as it reached the spot underneath the dragonfly it began to collect together again. Within a blink's worth of time the collected ice had shot upwards, spearing the dragonfly. Caught off-guard, the insect was brutally mutilated as the resulting icicle crashed through its left side. Part of its mandibles were torn off alongside two of the legs and both wings on that side, leaving it crippled and unable to take any more flight.

Cythril let out heavy breaths from that spell, his other senses gradually returning to him. He pulled his scythe out of the earth, still on his knees just. That little maneuver was tough to pull off and left him feeling a little drained. Unfortunately, the dragonfly was resilient enough to still be left standing after that brutal attack. At the very least Cythril had managed to land some solid damage. He glanced in the direction of the other two, taking his eyes off the opponent for just a moment. He needed to see what they were up to, if they'd fared well themselves.

Alnaera grit her teeth as she continued powering the spell, restraining the dragonfly. Sweat beaded on her brow and the nape of her neck as she watched the monster struggling. Thankfully, one of the other strangers took her cue, and sprinted at the insect, yelling that she got it. Alnaera didn’t quite know why the green-haired female had chosen to attack from close up with a bow, but the resulting thwack was impressive enough that she nodded in satisfaction.

After one of the creature’s eyes got destroyed, however, the flying menace broke free and was more enraged then ever. Alnaera dropped into a crouch, bracing against her staff as she prepared to defend. It was mainly by chance that she still had the other female within sight. The archer was struggling with the gunk sticking to her. As such, she had no way of seeing or avoiding the attack their opponent was preparing for.

Muttering a low curse, the horned mage dashed in front of her, sweeping her staff wide once she skittered to a stop. Light and dark comingled, and a transparent yellowish rectangle appeared floating before the females while a shadowy smog rolled up to their waists, protectively undulating against them. The defense had been put up just in time, however the hastiness of its construction proved to be its undoing. The wind slices struck at the thin shield, cracking then breaking it apart. The dark grey tendrils rose to eat up the rest of the attack, but slowly, and as a result only managed to shave it down a bit.

As such, the leftover force of the attack bit into Alnaera, resulting in two long, though relatively shallow cuts. The mage hissed at the damage to her left hip and right shoulder. Still, it was lesser than it would have been without the barrier. She was thankful that the insect hadn’t chosen to physically ram them, which is what she assumed it was about to do to the archer. She was about to dish out as good as she got, the wolf-man started a dance of blade and magic, using the opportunity to greatly damage the dragonfly. Alnaera kept track of his progress while she healed herself, an ordeal which left her pleasantly warm and even slightly energized.

Then, using her remaining reserves, she began channeling energy up into the sky, slowly constructing a lightning cloud. The very moment the scythe-bearing male finished with his part, she directed the gathered forces towards a purpose. Lances of sparking blue crashed down into the dragonfly, spearing and shocking it – and only it. The ground directly underneath it and perhaps half a meter around it was charred, but the rest of the surroundings (and more importantly, her provisionary allies) were left unaffected. Alnaera was left panting with the effort that had taken. Surely, that was it for the creature? If it recovered, or if more came…it didn’t bear thinking about.

(Sorry for the wait!)

[@LukasVolkov @Undying Curiosity

With the adrenaline of finding his name still thrumming in his blood, Akshay was quick to respond. He swung his shield into the path of the dagger just in time, the resounding clang echoing through the garden - but before he could come up with a more offensive countermeasure, their attacker was gone again and his vision was full of smoke. Damn.

What he did glean from that split second, however, was useful enough.

"Long coat, long hair, no helm," he muttered over his shoulder, hoping his 'partner' was still close enough to hear. "Cunning, it seems. Be on your guard." Hopefully these slivers of information would be useful, but until then, what could he do?

...Ah, now he remembered. Akshay held his shield steady and expanded his senses a little more. With a little focus, he was sure his blindsight would find her. He just needed to focus. "Buy me some time," he added, even more quietly.

My eyes widened at the bold but ultimately foolish move. Who wields a hammer in such a way? I used my momentum to slid on the ground, nearly missing having my skull bashed to bone by the hammer. Instead it thudded against my shoulder. Despite the odd use, the power behind the strike was no joke. My shoulder felt as though ripped from the socket, but better that than my skull crushed like a grape. I hissed as the force nearly sent me sprawling and I ran past him. A plume of smoke erupted in my wake blanketing the hammer wielding warrior as I carried onward, toward his now defenseless companion, who now stood alone. Best p[art was their back was exposed. My mouth watered and my hand tightened around my dagger. An ominous shadow flowing from the blade like smoke from dying embers. My eyes focused on his right side, a vulnerable spot. Kidney perhaps, my mind whispered.

I grinned and lunged, intent to sink all nine inches of shadowed steel into my unwary prey.

@goodmode@Undying Curiosity

Zeyruun felt a shock run through his palms as his hammer collided with something in the smoke. He positive it wasn't Akshay and he wasn't quite close enough to hit the gazebo where the deities sat. It could only mean his attack landed true, but the way his hammer continued moving after the impact it was almost like it bounced off. It wasn't a direct hit, but they must've felt it at least, Zeyruun thought as he stood in the smoke. He didn't catch a glimpse of the long hair or the coat that Akshay mentioned, his vision was simply too obscured. Zeyruun had to really think about this fight. He was battling an enemy that could create their own advantageous environment, Zeyruun could feel a magic course through his body but he didn't know if he could put it to practical use. The power, the raw unrefined power, felt bright and comforting in his being. Letting it out could just make him an easier target to attack, a bright light in a cloud of smoke? Not a good idea.

Think. Think. Think!

An idea formed in his mind. In the heat of the moment, he couldn't predict the outcome or the repercussions, but he had to give it a try. Zeyruun placed the hammer in both his hands, gripping the shaft tightly. He squatted down and prepared to jump. He sat there, knees bent, for a few moments, trying to gather the rampaging light within himself and harness it. It was easier than it seemed, it felt so natural to manipulate the power. He did what he could to channel the power into his legs, making the skin around his thighs to grow taut from his straining muscles. With an explosive release, Zeyruun jumped into the air soaring up to a grand 15 meters. The sudden release of his power towards the ground, which propelled him upwards, created a flash of light that disappeared in a second. The wave of energy that left his feet grew outwards along the ground, pushing the smoke away in a radius. Not enough! The smoke only cleared about a meter or two away from him, not nearly enough to reveal the enemy or even Akshay for that matter. Hopefully, this next part would change things up a bit.

Zeyruun hung in the air for what felt like forever, hanging just beyond the plume below. He eventually began to fall to the ground. He raised his hammer over his head, and plummeted downwards towards a ground he couldn't see. As he fell he closed his eyes and tried to discern his height. once only a meter above the ground and slammed his hammer downwards onto the ground, sending out a shockwave. The shockwave didn't dissipate the smoke as he wanted, it had more of an effect on the ground, sending out a brutal tremor in all directions. this attack hadn't cleared out the smoke as he wanted, but the effect could still work for him, hopefully it throws their attacker off balance. With one attack of his landing but not a direct hit and this tremor he sent out, the fear of fighting an enemy he couldn't see didn't seem so tough. Now, Zeyruun just needed to get back to Akshay who may or may not have been affected by the tremor as well.

@Undying Curiosity @LukasVolkov

At the shockwave that spread from Zeyruun's hammer-pound, Akshay found himself forced forwards, staggering a couple of steps. A flash of anger spread through him for a moment - but it was quickly snuffed out. They were strangers. Of course they didn't hold together like a woven rope - these things took time, right?

He wobbled, vulnerable, and had to swing his shield up and out of the way to counterbalance.

His adversary didn't respond to goading, and he wasn't fast enough to track her the usual way, which meant he had few options.

Akshay called on a sense he hadn't so much as touched since the god-war went on, and the form of his enemy lit up in his eyes like a sparkler... slightly too late. He saw her coming, but despite his best effort to get out of the way, he hadn't left himself enough time to dodge completely. Lykantha's dagger slashed a deep gouge in his side, and Akshay let out a snarl of pain - even as his hand grasped tight around her wrist, pinning her in place and hopefully preventing her from dodging back into the smoke.

She'd landed a dangerous injury that he'd be paying for very soon, but Akshay trusted that his "partner" would take advantage of the moment and do something to deal with her.

Lykantha saw blood splatter and flow from the wound she’d caused. A thrill ran through her at the sight of blood, staunched just barely be being grabbed. The grip around her wrist was like iron chains binding her in place. The shockwave forced her to stumble, combined with the grip around her wrist she stumbled.

But it afforded her an opportunity. She slid onto her back and twisted her herself. Her wrist burned in protest but she ignored it. She dropped her dagger, decently snatching it from the air with her other hand. This all occurred in the span of a breath before she made to slam the dagger’s all nine inches into Akshay’s belly and rip down. She’d gut one of them before night’s end if she was to fall tonight.

@goodmode @Undying Curiosity