Cuttersbury - Trail towards Drych Lake“Ah, Q.T! Are you alright?” Marcus asked with a warm, reassuring smile as he saw the haggard water mage stumble his way towards him after his spat with one of the Varrens. Ceasing his concentration and incantation of channelling another agility buff to one of his friends, he turned his attention towards Quentin and his dangerous pursuer, watching with interest and appreciation at the way in which Quentin channelled the water from a tree branch, delicately controlling it and weaving the floating puddle of water in midair between them. Marcus’ eyes lingered briefly on the state of the branch left behind, and then looked back at the sweating Quentin and his water.
"Marky, I don't have enough water to make this hurt, so I need a little air on this one. You feelin' me?"
“Fascinating,” Marcus stroked his chin. “You’re quite talented, Q.T.” Marcus smiled. “I think I can help...”
A strong gust of wind suddenly swept between the two, snatching the ball of water out and shooting it through the air towards the Varren. The brilliant gust of wind took Quentin by surprise, almost breaking his concentration of maintaining the water together completely, were it not for the attack being over almost as soon as it had begun. The Varren was struck dead center in the chest, feeling the hard sting of the water whiplashing against it and bowling it over onto the ground in pain. Before it could even catch its breath, to its disbelief the water soaking him started to turn and change, growing harder and more solid, as Marcus focused on implementing his less practiced ice magic to pin the Varren against the ground, despite its struggling.
“How was that?” Marcus turned back again towards Quentin, his face resuming his usual calm smile.
“Woah, Syed, that was awesome!” Estelle jumped for joy and screamed in jubilation as Syed’s foot swung out and booted one of the two charging Varren with an electrically empowered crack to the snout. At the same time, the other Varren collapsed to the ground, clutching its belly in agony as it trembled greatly in pain, Estelle sheathing her fireblade back into its place after she deftly smacked it back with the flat of her sword. She turned back around to her friend, and winced in concern at the way in which Syed was still trapped. The Varren below, clutching onto him, was being incredibly persistent… and Tobi was still trapped too. How to get them out?
“Trixie!” Estelle shouted over the din of battle. “Do you have anything… smelly we can throw down here?” She said, pointing to the hole that Syed’s arm was stuck down. The electromage shot a look towards Estelle. Did they not have any better ideas? She shrugged. “Only thing I can really think of is something super smelly that’d turn away the Varren and make him let go of you… sorry, Syed!”
To carry such a rancid smell on his hand for the rest of the day, though… was it wrong for him to almost hope Trixie didn’t have anything that might fit the description?
“Moira!” Estelle continued. “Could you… punch the ground around Tobi and smash him out?”
A glint twinkled in the berserker’s eye.
“What about punching my hand out?!” Syed panicked.
“Couldn't that risk the Varren slicing your arm off…?”
Oh, Vayū.