<Snipped quote by Nimda>
*The light from the landscape becomes heavily diffracted so that the drawing is visibly incomprehensible*
*Continues from memory*
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
*The light from the landscape becomes heavily diffracted so that the drawing is visibly incomprehensible*
[@Attack Team]
*The remaining mercenaries form into a layered battle line in front of the spire's entrance*
This is the last of them—if we get through these, we can get into the spire and find the last access points, so long as X, Martyn, and SPirit succeed.
*Oranges, Blues, and Reds make up the front line; the Oranges begin strategically shooting a multitude of dagger-like items wreathed in raw, chaotic, destructive energy; the Sky Scribes also target the fighters with an onslaught of elemental attacks and plasma blasts*
<Snipped quote by The World>
Dane:
Max mode, it is.
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
Zazriel: *readies Sadreenyl and flies up into the air before launching slashes of corrosive darkness at the Sky Scribes*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Instead of doing damage on impact, the shards shatter into dust and rise up in front of those scribes, impeading their vision slightly. From over where I launched them I utter a short phrase that the scibes can't hear.*
Delayed illusions.
*To those looking at the dust from both within the clouds and outside of them, they seem to melt and vanish with no harm done for now.*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Continues from memory*
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
*It suddenly takes significantly extra energy to move your arm and paint*
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
*It suddenly takes significantly extra energy to move your arm and paint*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
Zazriel: *flies down to you and takes hold of your arm* Need help?
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
Zazriel: *flies down to you and takes hold of your arm* Need help?
<Snipped quote by ZAVAZggg>
*Crushing force applies bulk pressure upon you from all directions*
<Snipped quote by ZAVAZggg>
Thank you. It's done.
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Closes my eyes and begins speaking distinct, disconnected syllables*
Esthmen portlexvin keinusmuth exshthlapion ensthereiut elsiheb.
*The painting continues itself without movement on my part*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
Zazriel: *growls due to the pressure but nods and lets go of your arm*
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
*The Scribes are unable to counteract this*
<Snipped quote by ZAVAZggg>
*The pressure cuts out and an onslaught of force smacks you away as the Red Scribes focus their attention on you*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Different aspects of the painting begin to glow, one at a time; a crack appears in the air near the mercenaries and skews their view of the battlefield*
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
*The Orange, Blue, and Violet Scribes are clearly affected but the others are less impeded and the Reds rain force upon you in earnest*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Another part of the scene glows and creates a barrier; the cracks start to form into their own runes*
<Snipped quote by Darlit Glitch>
*Some of the mercenaries look warily at the now empty regions but are too busy filing up and attacking to respond with purpose*
<Snipped quote by Nimda>
Surrender now, and we will put you mercilessly to sleep and breach the Spire!
*Swaths of decaying energy sweep over us all*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Shakes my head sadly as the runes formed by the cracks in the air glow a deep gold*
True Stasis.
*A series of large cracks spread throughout their ranks as if reality were a block of glass; once they stop spreading, every section slightly skews relative to the others—all energy exerted in this region reinforces it*
<Snipped quote by Realmatic>
*Those surrounded by the now invisible mist notice no changes at first, but as time passes by it looks as if our position has shifted left or right of our actual current position, and as the scribes try to adjust their attacks to line back up we seem to rotate further in that direction for a moment before stopping again. Those unaffected by the mist witness those affected slowly turning to their left or right and attacking their own comrades as if they were unaware that they were there.*