Conventional Warfare part 1
starring Midna, Primrose, Braum, and Shovel Knight@DracoLunaris@Yankee@LugubriousLocation: Sandswept Sky - Split Mountain
Word Count: 10399 (+11)
While the others went for a series of mystery train rides into unknown danger and excitement, Primrose found herself sitting on the edge of a mountain top, feet dangling over the edge which led down into an all too familiar danger, one of cold and blinding. It was not just directly below either, but spread off into the distance on either side of the trio that was made up of her, the stalwart Braum, and the chivalrous Shovel Knight. Therein lay the first obstacle, because it was impossible to know where their destination was by simply peering down into the cloud.
Behind them, however, sat one half of why Midna had thought this would be a much easier task than going up the mountain had been. The portcrystal hummed with soft magics, a beckon to the ferrystones that had brought them back up to the mountain top and, as the princess had pointed out, could do so over and over and over again.
Which was why she was presently hurtling down the mountainside, wind at her back, for the half dozenth time, levitation and shadow hopping being used to control her rapid scouting decent, at the end of which she would simply pop back up topside to recover from the ice and snow for a bit, and then get right back into the action.
While she dive bombed the blizzard, it left the trio just a little time to get to know each other, and, perhaps as importantly for a smaller, more focused team, what they could all do.
“So, Braum knows we have fought on the same side a few times, but if we are to be on closer knit team, it would be a boon to know everything your wonderful dances can do my friend” the big freljordian, who was using his shield as a back rest, asked Primrose “So that we can strategize around them, make combos, and other things so we can win the day!” he said, giving a victorious fist pump to punctuate his words.
Primrose raised a brow at the large man, a coy smile on her face as she crossed one leg over the other.
"Wonderful, hm? Surely you aren't trying to flatter me."Teasing was fun, but she did agree with Braum. If there was still any danger present on the mountain, knowing your allies would be helpful. She continued watching Midna's coming and going as she next spoke.
"I can temporarily increase your speed, defenses, and attack power. Even your magical power, should you have any. Besides the basics..."She glanced at Braum and the Shovel Knight.
"I do have one dance that will spread others' effects. It's a bit difficult to describe, but say you have a spell that can put someone to sleep. It only works on one person at a time. However, after I dance for you..." she waved her hand in the air like she would have had she actually been dancing, drawing on the previous night's experience in town for her explanation.
"...then your spell will affect everyone around you. Well, everyone you want it to."She didn't mention the last of her dances, the one that had yet to return to her.
Bewildering Grace, a very powerful performance - but one she could not control the results of.
"Midna has a whole bag of tricks, but you two... seem to prefer to get physical. Is that right?"“Braum
is strong” the big man agreed with a flex, “But I also have my own tricks up my sleeves. Or. Well. Lack of sleeves” he grinned a touch sheepishly and then explained “my punches and this hya” he thrust a fist out and hurled and icky blast “they make foes very cold, and with a few follow up hits from me or you, they will be frozen solid for a little moment”
“Then you have my shield, which I can empower so that it can perfectly block the first thing, and then it makes the rest weaker” he showed off what it looked like, forming an even larger shield over his own “oh and if i jump to your side, you and I will be tough like old bear.”
“Finally I can do big slam to knock our foes up and away. But that one takes a lot of effort, so we keep it for emergencies or big important bad guys yes?” he explained and then helped out his hands, finishing “and that is Braum.” before raising a hand to his head and stroking his mustache in contemplation “You and I together could make one person very tough, or make everyone tough I think. Good for when one or all in trouble. Hmm, I wonder if we could all get big shield too? That could be strong too.”
That was the end of his suggestion, but he did also ask “I have seen you do fire things too, I think? We make quite the contrasting pair in that, as well as others, but in a complimentary yes?"
"Thou certainly soundeth most capable, mine muscular companion," Shovel Knight commended. Covered head to toe in distinctive blue armor, the honorable knight gave no hint of his true visage, but his voice and manner told the others everything they needed to know about who he was. "As for mineself, I command a strong arm and a stout heart, able to stomach more punishment -and jump far higher- than thy typical fellow, I daresay."
Shovel Knight then began to sort through his Inventory. "On my adventures I also make use of certain armaments once belonging to the Order of No Quarter. Feast thine eyes upon the Propeller Wand, the Throwing Anchor, the Mobile Gear, and the Dust Knuckles!" He pulled out and showed each relic in turn.
"The pyromancy flame, yes. It does seem we have a lot of our bases covered between us," she said. "I have my dark magic as well." Primrose had seen Braum's shield in action before, but the further explanation was appreciated. She'd have to remember the details of her companion's abilities, as well as their gadgets with some of them like the knight here. She fixed the two men with a small smile.
“We’ve a lot of options, then. Where dancing is concerned, between the four of us, I have my work cut out for me.”“That’s quite the arsenal!” Braum said, delighting at the many varied tools of the Shovel Knight “you certainly seem like quite the versatile fellow if you can use all of those with skill. Add in the princesses' varied might and magics and I’m sure we four will be able to face any challenge!”
At which point, right on queue, that very princess appeared in a flash of magic, snow-caking the X-Naut Uniform she was using to keep out the cold and announced “I’ve found it!” in a way that you could hear the slightly manic pointy toothed grin that was hidden behind two layers of masks.
Icy wind swirled around the frozen entrance of the
Convent of Our Lady of the Charred Visage,
singing a mournful song as it bit at its walls ineffectually, for the frost coating the carven stone had reinforced the monastery against the rest of the elements. Around the place, glimpsed only in moments of clarity, it could be seen that several of the lesser peaks had been carved, all depictions of women's faces, rivers of frozen tears flowing from their anguished eyes.
Then the weather was split, as a tiny gash Midna had left in the World of Light leading to her own world of dark widened, bleeding the amber un-light of twilight and a shower of black squares which descended to the ground and ‘built’ themselves into four figures, princess, protector dancer and knight, who found themselves stood among the frozen bodies of long dead pilgrims who had only just failed to reach the holy ground before them.
Not wanting to risk even a moment more in the snow despite holding the same emergency exit Midna had used to find this place, the squad hurried inside of the main entrance, finding within the convent’s cloister. Its central garden had been flashfrozen, long dead plants, delicate leaves and petals coated in ice and preserved with haunting beauty, surrounded icy fountains in the center, while around the cloister’s edges rows of pillars and arches denoted the surrounding ambulatory, safe-ish from the wind if not the cold.
Safe enough that the hall’s lone occupier could survive it, at least for the time. It was a hunched over women of indeterminate age, wearing a habit and a rather ropy cowl, carrying a bell in one hand and a staff in the other, upon which she was leaning. Her most striking feature however was the
golden mask that adorned her face, covering it entirely from view. Given the mask, the only indication of life was the breath passing through a thin slit in the mask. Slow, relaxed, and which would not speed up till they got closer and disturbed her.
Though he said nothing, Shovel Knight instinctively tensed up, and not just from the cold. With precious little to go on except the guarantee that no matter where one went in the World of Light, one would find trouble, he’d prepared himself for the worst. So far, nothing jumped out to attack either him or his companions, but he still found himself confronted by an overwhelming sense of wrong. With the sheer cold and barren starkness that reigned here, the convent itself seemed to give off an ominous, dire air. He wasn’t about to let down his guard.
As they got closer the nun startled, either out of a sleep or out of a trance, and half raised the bell, priming it for shaking. She did not, however, do so, and instead after a moment greeted them with ”Welcome, blessed travelers. Do you come in good faith, seeking the great miracle and its scorching blessing?”
”Yes actually, but for a friend?”“For a friend? No, no, that will not do, only the righteous who brave the path, who suffer it’s cruel and indifferent bite, may find salvation here!” the outraged nun replied, moments away from ringing what was probably an alarm bell held in her hand.
”He is… indisposed. Entirely unable to move in-fact, and also on death’s door. That we bring him this, ah, sacred oil was his last request, one that we’ve traveled here to fulfill” Midna replied, trying to carefully explain the situation. If they could get in and out with no violence, it would make things so much easier.
“Hmmmmm,” the golden masked woman seemed to be considering this, but remained unconvinced.
While Midna and the sister spoke, Primrose's gaze flickered about from the high stone walls to the woman's golden mask, trying to piece together as much information as she could. A "scorching blessing" did not sound good whatsoever, and judging by the religious attire that covered all of the nun's body including her face... Primrose took her words literally. However this 'blessing' must have been further inside. The oil that Midna wanted to obtain for that poor man was also inside, so inside they had to go.
Getting in will be the easy part, I'm sure, Primrose thought. Hopefully a little white lie would suffice.
"Our friend is quite pious. He's told us about your miracle," she said. She stepped closer to the woman, and behind her back for her allies to see was the classic symbol of crossed fingers, though it was unlikely they would need the hint.
"It's true we have come to fetch the sacred oil on his behalf, but we are interested in the faith as well. You could say that we are... potential converts. We have come all this way through cold and misery for it."The Sister leaned on her staff with gnarled, bony hands, and when the sickly, glassy-eyed stare behind her mask fell upon Primrose, she became incensed by the thought of words without conviction. “Presumptuous knave! The holy oil that once melted away the beauty of Our Lady, and bore it to God, is for the communion of the pious alone,” she creaked. “Only once you likewise burn your face, in an act of most exquisite penance, and adorn what remains with this mark of sacred sacrifice, shall anyone be accepted into the Congregation, and gain the right to administer the oil.”
Ah, strike one. So this was a convent home to those kinds of people - the kind that have gone passed devout and into... whatever this was. Primrose's placid smile did not dim or crack, but she did raise both of her palms in a placating gesture.
"I've been called worse," she commented, giving the masked woman some room.
”Then couldn’t we escort one of you down to him so you can do the deed?” Midna asked,
”That sounds like a right penintent pain in the, uh, posterior”The Sister recoiled from the suggestion. "Only here, at the end of the path of penitence, may the frozen know it's burning embrace. A communion unearned…an absurd, sacrilegious indulgence! And an impossible one," she growled. "For only cold gold can carry the Redeeming Oil."
”Hmmm” the princess thought long and hard, and then theatrically shrugged
”Oh well, seeing as I can’t fulfill my holy mission guess I’ll just go back out into the snow an, uh, pray to the goddess- to the miracle for guidance. You wait here I’ll be riiiiiiiight back” before turning back and walking back the way they had come, not even making much of an effort to disguise the fact that she slipped into a shadow the moment she thought the gatekeeping nun wasn’t looking, leaving the others awkwardly standing about while she turned this into a solo sneaking mission.
“So ah, we will be… over here… admiring your lovely garden?” Braum suggested before awkwardly edging away from the golden faced woman. Shovel Knight shrugged and stepped away.
“I am starting to see pattern. Braum does not say this to complain, it is good to be daring, but I do have vague feeling that big damage dealer shouldn’t be running off on own as much as she does” the big man said, having already had to bail the princess out of a fair few scraps where she had got in over her head.
Likewise Primrose stayed with the men, unwilling to be in the sister's off-putting and frankly rude presence while she could help it.
"She did say she would be right back," the dancer said,
"though it would be nice to be clued in on her plans, whenever she does disappear." Taking his shovel blade off his shoulder to plant it in front of him, Shovel Knight tried to control his shivering. "While I cannot attest to our companion's intentions, I am sure that a touch of patience is all we require." A shaky exhale brought a puff of cloudy breath from his helmet. "T-though, sooner would indeed be better!"
“Mmmm,” Braum agreed, and then there was a lapse of silence as the trip preserved their breath, not wanting to waste it on the chill until the man spoke up once more “Still, Braum hopes she does not cause too much trouble.”
Right on queue the princess returned and did more than just that, appearing behind the woman who was eyeing the loiterers suspiciously from behind her mask, and then in one swift motion reaching out with a shadow hand, grabbing her and cruising her into ash before she could make more than a gasp of surprise.
She stepped forwards, catching and storing the golden mask the spirit had been crushed into as Braum blustered, understandably taken aback by this sudden turn, before asking, “Are we going to kill them, for the oil?”
”They’ve got Laharl and a little girl captured. I wouldn't have put it past him to get imprisoned for being a jerk, but he’s in bad shape, and there’s others too,” she explained swifty
”and a lot of them are worse, part of being prepared for some kind of ritual. I don’t know what, but given the nature of this place, it didn’t sound good.” ”I put a port-stone in an cupboard where they are being held, so we can get to them fast. It's getting them out that’ll be the hard part,” she added, taking it as a given that they’d help these people out, the only question was how they went about it.
Midna's sudden violence surprised Primrose, but the mention of the familiar half-demon's name surprised her even more. She'd come along in part to make sure he'd gotten off the mountain alright, figuring that the convent might be a place of shelter for travelers - though that notion had gone quickly from her mind after speaking with the sister at the door. She never imagined that he, and others apparently, would be taken for some kind of ritualistic sacrifice. This would be the second time she'd help take on an evil cult if one could believe it.
"Then let's go, before they learn what's just happened," she said, naturally on board with the idea of rescue.
"If we’re quick, we may be able to avoid the worst of whatever they have in store."Unsure exactly of how Midna's shadow movement worked and not wanting to be wholly unprepared, Primrose asked,
"Did you happen to see an escape route, or will we be finding one on the way out?" ”I did, but it’s not any kind of back door. This place is pretty precariously perched, so the best exit we have is that one” she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder towards the entrance that the now dead nun had been semi guarding
”Because everything else is a drop into an abyss. The prisoners are in a room right before of some kind of central shrine, and then it’s two rooms and a staircase back to here, and then we’re out.”“And the oil?” asked Shovel Knight, cognizant of the team’s original mission even if it had since been overshadowed. Before a reply could come, however, a loud clanking sound rang down the halls. “What ho?”
He and the others turned to see two more
Sisters of the Charred Visage lumbering closer. Unlike the brown-clothed crone who stood at the door, this sturdily-built pair seemed more than physically capable, especially considering the unique and unsettling weapons they dragged noisily behind them. Both pulled along a brazen censer almost as tall as themselves, held by lengths of chain, but from the mouths of the oversized ornaments reached a handful of grasping arms. Though scarred and marked by cauterized sores, they still weakly grasped at the air as if in desperation for any kind of relief, although what kind of help this world might hold for any such poor wretches as might be crammed inside those urns, Shovel Knight couldn’t fathom. His grip tightened on the handle of his shovel blade. “Shall we engage? Or make use of thy uncanny crystals?”
That was the question, wasn't it? Those two sinister sisters would notice their fellow nun gone, see the ashes where she once stood watch, and after putting two and two together alarm the whole convent. Or they may be entirely oblivious, though they'd still be waiting for them here at the door when the group made their escape. If they fought now there was no telling that even if they won, the noise wouldn't alert the others inside anyway. Primrose was once again reminded that she was no strategist, and neither a practiced gambler, but her gut was favoring one choice over the other.
"Use the stones to go in, and once we have Laharl and the others make a push for the exit," Primrose suggested in a hurried whisper. They didn’t need to defeat every would-be enemy inside, only get what they needed and get out.
”Agreed, and people first, oil later” Midna whispered, before raising her little linked stone and vanishing in a burst of magic.
The Princess had not been kidding when she said she’d used a supply closet, and the group more or less spilled out of it and into a (thankfully empty) corridor due to the lack of space within.
”This way, quickly”, guiding them quickly past a set of grand and barred doors and to a stairwell that leads down into the earth and then, finally, into a cavern.
Within was a large cavern dominated by two things, a pool of molten lava at its center, and a massive cast iron forge at its back. The blast furnace room did not seem to be being used as such however.
The top right of the chamber houses a nook filled with a variety of cages in which prisoners, living and dead, had been imprisoned, while ahead of them teams of sisters hauled the massive lava buckets made for creatures much larger than them, slowly filling up the central chamber with molten rock under the supervision of a sister superior and a pair of nuns who stood thrice as tall as them all. Those towering edicts of faith also had
mouths made of of rusted zippers and long talons for index fingers which gave a way their inhuman nature if their impossibly tall and lithe figures had not already done so.
This would have been used to superheat the massive, bull-headed
bronze furnace that sat at the end of the chamber, but the lack of any kind of ore to be processed, and the space where it would most likely be stored being filled instead with the people the group were here to save, made it abundantly clear what the chamber was going to be used for.
Before they could be spotted, the team ducked back to the side of the entrance (found directly opposite the sacrificial furnace) and tried to come up with a quick plan.
”We need to get past them and to the prisoners, so that they can’t do anything to them once they realize why we’re here,” was Midna’s initial observation right out the bat, before pulling the golden mask she had gotten from the crushed sister out and suggesting
”and I think this might come in handy for that” "A cunning ploy, but what of the rest of us?" Shovel Knight replied, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. "Mayhaps we should split our force. A diversion wouldst occupy their rancor."
Primrose agreed with the Shovel Knight's suggestion, and she gave a quick nod.
"I can draw their attention, even perform a dance or two for you all while I'm at it. They won't give a second thought to a 'masked sister' being near the captives at that point," she said.
"So long as I have one of you of nearby when they come after me." “Braum is here for just that. With me at your side these mad ladies won’t lay a finger on you, let alone interrupt your fancy footwork,” the guardian declared, boldly thumping a fist against his bare chest.
”So I was thinking I’d sneak in and then cause an accident as a diversion which’d let you snuck around the sides, but this is a much better plan” Midna admitted as she secured the mask over the other two she was already wearing, the bunny eared X-naught outfit being somewhat conspicuous but still robe-y enough that it could well pass in the panic.
”So am I running in to ‘warn’ them about the intruders, or am I slinking in after you make some noise? Also do you wanna stick with them shovel knight, or put some of those good jumps to work on all that scaffolding somehow?” "The less attention drawn to you, the better." Shovel Knight nodded, his fist clenched with determination. “Verily! You need not take any gambles. Leave the uproar to us!”
Midna stepped to the side, directing both arms theatrically towards the entrance with a little bow as she gave them the spotlight.
Braum moved to stand beside Primrose on her left so he could more easily cover her with his shield. “Then let’s give them a show they won’t forget ha ha!” he declared, thumping his shield down into the ground once and then, once everyone was ready, advancing into the chamber.
Their entrance did not go unnoticed, Braum’s shield slam having caused one of the tall zipper faced demons to look back at the entrance, which caused her to spot them. Rather than call an alarm herself however, the demonic nun instead used her long index finger to tap the shorter human who was dressed in the same gray robe and carried the same bell as the woman outside had, giving the heroes a few scant moments to announce themselves in style.
Primrose moved to take center stage, graceful and practiced. With a flick of her wrist a miniature version of the Flame Fan formed in her hand, and she twirled together with it in a turn, two turns, three. Another flick and the fires in her hand died, giving way to her actual performance fan. A little sleight of hand for entertainment's sake. The Panther Dance continued on, giving a speed boost to her allies in what little time the performance mesmerized the sisters - as naturally Shovel Knight wouldn’t waste the opportunity, especially after a quick and satisfactory look around. “HUZZAH!” he yelled, leaping into the air. Equipping the Dust Knuckles, he dealt a mighty wallop to one of the hanging cages he spotted, smashing it into its next-door neighbor with a tremendous metallic crash. It swung away as it spun wildly, then thanks to the chain that suspended it, came right back to strike the first cage in turn. The result was a tremendous clamor, and if that wasn’t enough, Shovel Knight used his patented Shovel Drop to pogo off Braum’s upturned shield, adding to the spectacle. “Behold, thou scorch-ed miscreants!” he shouted. “I am here to to topple yon fearsome furnace! For shovelry!”
The Convent response was immediate. Alarm bells rang, and the Sisters joined voices in an outraged howl. Guttural roars came on the outcry’s heels, resounded from the pouring lava and billowing flame found around the great chamber. From the blaze charged a number of
Disciples, bulky husks with bodies eking magma. Gurgling and snarling, then ran and stumbled the intruders’ direction. Behind them leaped the
Percherónes, their spines so contorted by constant prayer that they could do little more than lunge around, and at the back stomped the censer-wielding Sisters. “...Retreaaaat!” Shovel Knight cried, turning to flee back the way his team had come.
“Hold fast my friend, we shall take them together!” Braum shouted, sending an icky blast forth from his shield into one of the shamblers, hot and cold colliding in a burst of cooling steam that caused it to stumble and fall to the ground.
“That may be, but would it not be better if we lead them on a merry chase away from here?” Shovel Knight barked back.
Midna herself did not make an appearance, yet, but her minions entered the fray without her, her two wolfos supersized, charged out of the gate, plowing into the front ranks of their foes, while her Chilfos strikers marched out and delivered a volley of spears before both sets of support dissipated. The Twilight Vibrava however remained, landing on the ground and then causing a section of it beneath one set of sisters to erupt with the power of the earth.
While the others handled the front line, Primrose continued to fulfill her role as a support. Spinning, shuffling, shaking her hips, weaving her arms in dance. It took concentration to keep her steps right, but she was able to boost Braum and Shovel Knight's attack power with the Lion Dance. At the end of her performance she took a deep breath to regain her bearings, and noting the amount of enemies still heading toward them she summoned the wolf spirit striker.
"Makami, Mafrei!" The spirit let out a howl of its own, peppering the sisters and their monsters with light nuclear damage. The more wounded of the enemies sizzled and died, and the Makami circled it’s master once before disappearing.
It looked as though Shovel Knight’s allies were determined to fight here, at the entrance of the fire sanctum, against far greater numbers with no tactical advantage whatsoever. According to the plan they didn’t need to win so much as to merely survive, but even that would be a major challenge. If all these Punished monsters continued their charge, they would overrun the four, no matter how strong their shields, how strong their armor, or how numerous their buffs. Still, Shovel Knight was no stranger to a showdown, and if his allies planned to hold their ground, he would not let them down. “Huzzah!” he cried again, striking his shovel blade to the cavern’s stony floor. With powerful thrusts he sent chunks of rock flying, punctuating Primrose’s magic damage with a big helping of brute force.
As the lesser spawn surged forth the lead sister, one who now that she had turned could be seen to be surrounded by a set of floating
Rosary Beads, cried out “Take them alive sisters, their sacrifice is the only thing that will bring forgiveness for defiling this holy place with their presence!” before turning the beads into a whip and using it to grapple around the neck of one of the demonic nuns, the sister superior hauling herself up into its arms and then demanded “Spawn me more warriors of the Miracle.”
“Yesss, let me bear your rage,” the demon replied once her neck was free, after which she and the carried sister superior floated up into the air, wreathed in blood red lightning as a trio of pustulating pods began to form on the ground beside them. As more Punished appeared in burst of consecrated ash the rest of the Sisters surged forwards after the chaff, the spindly demonic battle nun stalking in their mist crying out “Lay down your toys, and I promise you your deaths will be rapturous!”
"Not a chance," Primrose responded. Switching to offense, she began to pool magic into the palms of her hands. At the same time, dark magic swirled on the ground around the sisters. The Night Ode spell was cast, bursting to catch a group of them in its attack range. She didn't intend to stand her ground, choosing instead to rely on her more robust comrades she retreated behind them until she had enough room to prepare another spell. The area was sweltering and hazardous, though more than that they should give Midna as much space away from the horde as possible.
"Braum, let us fall back," she said, following Shovel Knight's initial thought of moving out of the area, but added,
"After we take care of that." She called forth a fireball and sent it flying at the coupled Sisters doing the summoning. It wouldn't do to leave them be, spawning more and more monsters to give chase while they stayed put in the furnace room.
“Two can play at that game!” announced Shovel Knight. He produced the
Flare Wand and followed up the dancer’s pyromancy with some fire magic of his own. After doing so, however, he quickly swapped it back out for the Shovel Blade, since the fire sanctum’s congregation had arrived. Seven Disciples, five Percherónes, and four Sisters of the Charred Visage reached them, their force harried but not significantly depleted by either the decoy squad’s ranged attacks or Midna’s summons. While two Disciples and a handful of the Percherónes had fallen, both Primrose and Midna took some damage through their Strikers in return. Now those left over, the whole gang of sixteen, crashed into the three like a tidal wave.
Braum held fast against the charred, muscular brutes and rather easily knocked back the leapers who collided with his shield, but he couldn’t keep the others from just moving around him, and when the Sisters got close enough to batter his defense with the brutal weight of their censers he ran into a problem. Shovel Knight quickly found himself face to face with the monsters, but with Primrose behind him in need of defense he couldn’t just take to the air to save his skin. He engaged his attackers in a flurry of frenetic blocks and blows, hacking at the molten bodies of the Disciples again and again with his shovel blade, despite their sturdiness. At once point he did try to jump up for a finishing blow, only to be tackled back to the ground by the lunge of a Percherón. With a grunt he flung it off him and onto its back for Primrose to dispatch, which she did with a roar of black flame, reducing it to ashes. Then he shoved a Disciple into its friend, and in that brief moment he flung two
Chaos Spheres to bounce around the enemies, inflicting damage with each rebound off a twisted torso, habit, or limb.
Nevertheless, a Sister charged through the chaos, and Shovel Knight barely backpedaled in time to avoid an overhead smash that cracked the earth. “Zounds!” He clutched his weapon in both hands as he glanced nervously over his shoulder. “We have their attention. Let us abscond with it!”
“Back up, little dancer, and Braum will hold the rear as we move!” Braum said, getting completely onboard with the plan now, especially since their fiery shots had disrupted the summoning that would have made this fight three sacks of horrors worse.
The sister superior had tossed herself off of the battle nun before the shots could scorch them both, leaving the demon to take the full brunt of the volley. It stumbled back, screeching and aflame as the pods that were to birth its spawn withered and died around it. Then it tripped and fell backwards into the molten metal, its screeching silenced a suitably karmic death.
The superior pulled herself up from the ground, screaming of sacrilege and then used the prayer bead weapon to fire individual glowing beads as projectiles over the heads of her sisters at the towering Braum as he started to back up. Adding to the pressure was the other battle nun, the lanky monster stalking through the ranks of smaller Sisters and raising one long digit high and preparing to scythe it down over the top of Braum’s shield, only for Midna’s Vibrava to blast it in the face with dragon fire.
The towering demon stumbled back like its twin, but unlike her there was no hazard to fall into. As such when it lowered its hands from its face it revealed that it was almost entirely restored, with the last scorch marks closing right before their eyes. “As long as the children’s life flows through me, your flailing against me is futile! Now be good boys and girls: get down on your knees and submit!” it declared/demanded as it began to stalk forwards again.
Still, with the superior now also chasing them, the trio had the congregation’s full attention. It was time to leave.
Sandwiched between the Shovel Knight at the front and Braum at the rear, Primrose was aglow with magic as she lent her full support while the trio fought their way through the throng of enemies and out of the furnace room. Shadow and flame bloomed together, and while the spells managed to pick off a Disciple or two that were previously weakened by Braum and the Knight's attacks, their main use at the moment was creating brief gaps in the enemy's ranks. The more explosive of Primrose's spells pushed the monsters apart, and the Seekers steadily moved before being surrounded again.
The tussle spilled out into the corridor, and the remaining monsters swarmed. In such cramped confines they couldn’t overrun the defenders, but the defenders also couldn’t fight them as effectively. With Braum at the forefront to mitigate incoming damage and Shovel Knight to fight alongside him as the sword to the Freljordan’s shield, the fought a retreating battle as the Punished pushed them back.
Primrose conjured the Flame Fan and slammed it into a Percherón that got close, the fire breaking across its body. Another pass of the spell and and it stumbled, and then was struck with the follow up of a Moonlight Waltz which managed to destroy it. Taking the chance to let some of her mana recharge, Primrose began another dance - but before she could complete it, a Sister's heavy metal censer came crashing down in the group's blind spot.
“Gyah!” Shovel Knight hollered, dented and sent flying back into Primrose as he sought to attempted the brunt of the brutish nun’s attack. The two slammed painfully against the stairs behind them, only spared the worst of the impact thanks to the knight’s short stature. Shaking his head to chase the stars from his eyes, Shovel Knight tried to right himself. While it did bottleneck the enemy force, the tight confines of
this corridor weren’t doing his team any favors. “L-let us make haste, to a better battleground!” he quavered. From his Inventory, Shovel Knight produced the
Mobile Gear, which he dropped at the bottom the the staircase for both himself and Primrose to jump upon. Once both were aboard, the clever contraption sped the two quickly to the top, and with a combination of speed-boosted running plus Stand Behind Me, Braum wasn’t far behind.
The room at the top of the stairs turned out to be a multi-level
chantry, with stone pulpits jutting out from the walls on either side of the rows of pews beneath the light of fiery censers that dangled overhead. In here the three could use their surroundings to their advantage and mount a more solid defense, but there was one problem. Their arrival met with a trio of Sisters waiting in ambush around a huge cauldron of molten oil, primed and ready to be poured out and, in a flood of unimaginable pain, wash the half-melted heroes back down the stairs.
With guttural cries of victory the two Sisters on either side seized hold of the vat to pour it out, but the third seemed to have a different plan. Moving with a sudden speed and fluidity that none of the other Punished exhibited thus far, she rammed her elbow into her ally’s head an smashed it against the cauldron, stunning her. As the Sister turned in angry bewilderment, a dagger flashed, and the blade sank into the Sister’s ear. The next second another slammed in from the other side, and with a final twist the attacker snapped her victim’s neck. As she sank down the traitor vaulted up and over the cauldron in a daring acrobatic display, and as the opposite Sister attempted to tip it on her, own, manifested a sapphire-blue
cross spear to drive past the Sister’s clavicle and straight into the heart.
A moment later she landed, and with a flourish threw off her disguise to reveal a
altogher different sort of nun, her skin ash-pale except for the gruesome burn marks that covered half her face and much of her left arm. “Stop gawking and turn around already,” Rosaria told them, her voice raspy from pain. “We’ll face them together.
“Well met, my unexpected friend, and thank you for the save!” Braum said, about turning on the double and presenting his door-shield to the enemy. Midna’s vibrava, which was still accompanying them, landed atip it, and then fanned its wings once before buzzing them vigorously, unleashing a torrent of ear splitting sound down the corridor the mass of Punished climbing up after them.
Primrose used the small amount of time they had before the horde reached them to prepare. While she'd muttered a quick thank you to the helpful stranger, she'd also noted her obvious wounds. The dancer herself was hurting, and she could imagine Braum and the Knight's state. So she danced the steps of Sealticge's Seduction, using the buff on herself in order to then spread the flame of Warmth and give all of them a little pick-me-up before the next part of the battle. The palpable relief her healing pyromancy brought to Rosaria in particular was plain to see.
“You are indeed most gallant, my fair lady!” Shovel Knight assured Rosaria, making sure to compliment her despite the grievous injury that defaced her. As he panted, taking the brief reprieve offered by Midna’s giant insect to bask in the dancer’s Warmth, his gaze landed on the cauldron of boiling oil that Rosaria saved them from, still oriented toward the stairs. He perked up. “Braum, help me overturn this! Let us turn these vagabonds’ machinations back upon them!”
The musclebound protector obliged, and together they tipped the vat without much issue. As soon as the oil began to spill they both stepped back to give it a wide berth, nursing their hands burned by convection through the cauldron. Feeling the heat on their faces, the defenders watched the oil surge down a wide channel in the floor and into the Punished as they burst from the stairway corridor, only to be greeted by a wall of molten liquid. Heavier and stickier than water, it crashed into them hard enough to knock them down and sweep them off their feet, then destroyed their flesh while the struggled, feebly and futile, to pull free. Though he knew this was the cruel fate that would have befallen him originally, he couldn’t help but shudder anyway, at the hideous howls and screams of the doomed.
Primrose had closed her eyes and turned her head when the first shrieks began, only looking once the sounds began to die down.
"We can only hope that got all of our pursuers, though err on the side of caution." she said quietly, giving her realistic take on the situation. She suspected that there were more beyond the door, staying clear of the bubbling death trap while they thought up their own plan, but maybe the universe would be kind for a change.
"Hopefully we've bought Midna the time she needs. Perhaps we should...?" The dancer trailed off before the rest of her suggestion as she felt someone shift beside her. Rosaria had relaxed only a little, but it was enough for the dogged strength sustaining her to falter, and the good sister sank to the floor. The burns that hurt her so terribly made doing most anything almost impossible, which made her save all the more miraculous. It took everything she had to stay conscious as she knelt in Primrose’s Warmth. Primrose dropped to her knees beside her. Brows furrowed in concern, she searched the nun's form.
"Where is the worst of it?" She asked. She'd hate for their sudden savior to perish from a mortal wound now.
The good sister hovered her hand over the burned side of her head, not daring to touch the stomach-churning wound. “They held me down…” she rasped, pained even by the minimized movement of the left side of her lips. “They burned me.” Even in such dire straits, however, Rosaria could clench her teeth in muted rage as her eyes slid shut. “They have to die. All of them…”
Despite this being a rescue mission, Primrose resonated with Rosaria's feelings. If she were in the nun's shoes, she was sure she'd feel the same. Seeing the work of the cultists up close was hard, and she wasn't sure if her spell would be enough. Gently Primrose took the sister's hand in one of hers, and with the other she withdrew a glowing pink heart from her bosom.
"You'll get our chance for vengeance yet." She pushed the heart into Rosaria, watching as the other woman was healed and Galeem's stain was washed from her person.
Behind them, and the sisters, Midna slipped out of the shadow of the doorway and entered the cavern. Her disguise was nowhere near as good as the nun who had come to the aid of the distraction trio, but with most of the sisters being lead on a merry chase, she was free to slip inside and casually strolled her past any who remained, heading straight for the back of the chamber to the prisoners.
Her stealth route took her past a number of enemies, proving that even with a lot of the Punished force in pursuit of her allies, the fire sanctum wasn’t anywhere near safe. The Disciples that remained mostly lumbered around without paying too much attention, but they moved erratically, both in random spasms that changed their field of view on a whim, and ambling through lava and fire alike without a care. Just a few Sisters stuck around, and though they seemed lucid enough to keep some semblance of watch, they preferred to stand still rather than wander around. No Percherónes in sight was a blessing, but Midna quickly spotted something else to worry about.
Aside from the Battle Nuns, the Convent’s Sister Superior seemed to have one other elite guard around for added security. On top of a rocky vantage point loomed a
horrific mockery of a priest, taller than your average man, with a stole and grisly gas mask of what seemed to be colorless flesh, and a decorated gas tank on his back that fueled the deadly flamethrower in his hand. Heavy, phlegmy breaths could be heard from the Harbinger as he scanned the chamber, weapon in hand. From his lookout he could keep an eye on almost all the cages that hung throughout the fire sanctum, whether their captives were living, dead, or somewhere in between.
That was going to be a problem but thanks to the distraction and her disguise, it was one she had time to navigate around rather than panickldy deal with in the midst of the chaos of combat. There was a non-zero chance that the masked man would, if things looked bad for the religious horrors, turn his weapon on the prisoners out of spite. Not a risk she wanted to have to worry about.
She could, of course, just spend her disguise and attack him, but she had time and space to be a bit more creative, so she would.
As she maneuvered around the room in what she made to look like a patrol route she covertly brushed a hand against one of the great lava buckets, this one presently waiting to be refilled, on the opposite side of the room. Then she moved past the furnace, the layers of masks only moderately muting the smell of burnt flesh coming from within, and then moved behind the other bucket as part of her ‘route’ and then flicked a hand.
The sand that had been flowing out of a portal in the bucket and swiftly filling it rose in a torrent and then started whirling around the room, blanketing it a sandstorm that sung a siren’s song as it blocked out the infernal fires of the room just enough to let some of the shadow grow long and to obscure sight. The moment this occurred Midna pulled off her disguise and flicked from her hiding spot to one above the flame thrower priest. She opened one more portal and then dropped down onto him, twin knives in hand, to silence him before he became a threat.
Her daggers slipped through the cloth of her target’s garb and into the skin, prompting a pain grunt like that of an ox, but that concluded the extent of their damage. With a roar the Harbinger flailed, struggled for a moment against the added weight before reaching up to seize Midna by a limb and throw her off if she didn’t disengage in time. It would take more than one stealth attack, evidently, to put this creature down. “You! You will be cleansed!” the Harbinger proclaimed as it aimed a mighty flamethrower bash at Midna, wielding the heavy metal like a fire-spouting club.
”Of course” Midna comapliend when a knife to the back didn't end what was probably a monster, kicking off of him and leaving the blades embedded in the flesh rather than waste time trying to wrench them out. She tossed herself to his side, rolling around the attack (a move she had seen Link do a hundred times and that borrowed instincts now let her imitate) and swiped Dragon clawed fingers at the back of his thigh to try and hamstring him.
While the low blow hampered the Harbinger’s movement a bit, it did not prevent him pivoting around to smack the Twilight Princess right in the noggin with the flat of his flamethrower. The blunt force right to the dome sent her end over end, helmet or not, and put her at just about the perfect range for the horror to point his barrel her way, finger on the trigger. “Buuuurn!”
Stunned enough that she could do nothing herself, the princess did what she should have done straight away and called in the big guns. Or big dogs. Twin portals opened just behind her and her two souped up wolfos came charging out to slam into the flame thrower priest.
The wolfos immediately found themselves engulfed in the inferno belched out by the Harbinger’s weapon. Together, however, they managed to push through at great personal cost, protecting Midna behind them as they struck their enemy head-on. Their bulk managed to knock the Harbinger back, but only briefly. As they jumped away the monster struck back, sweeping the back legs out from beneath of of them. It stumbled but briefly, but it was enough for the Harbinger to step forward and stab his flamethrower into its midsection, after which it began to charge an explosive fireblast. Midna had only a second in which to act, be it to risk her own neck to save her summon’s skin, or to take advantage of its sacrifice to escape back into the shadows.
Not wanting to lose another, Midna reached out a shadowhand, grabbed the wolfos, pulled it off of the impaling weapon and shoving it down into a portal before the blast could go off, while also willing her chilfos strikers to appear and deliver a trio of spear thrusts to the priest, as much to briefly pin it as do actual harm.
Through the ensuing haze of embers and soot the frozen lances pierced the Harbinger’s body. He gave another, angrier grunt, more of a guttural snarl than anything, and with a powerful twist broke free. The next second his flamethrower unleashed its fury, its searing torrent perfect for obliterating these irksome soldiers of ice.
That, and the potential shared damage dealt to Midna, did not comprise the extent of her woes, however. By now, thanks to the spectacle and the Harbinger’s shouts, the other Punished had caught on to the fact that an intruder had appeared in their midst. Already a handful of Disciples led by a Sister of the Charred Visage were stomping their way up the incline toward the commotion atop the Harbinger’s lookout point. All hopes for a stealth mission were just about scuppered.
It hurt, oh it hurt, but it bought her time and space to pull herself back into the shadows of the sands still swirling around the room and drop into them, and appear further away at the far end of the chamber and then find a spot to hide.
Once out of sight she flicked a finger, forcing all of the sand to swirl towards the priest, engulfing him in his own personal sand tomb. As the sand swirled and the monster struggled against the cip damage, the princess was let to lick her wounds.
This, she was forced to conclude, had not worked. All she’d managed to do was spend assets, or at least deprive herself of them (both wounded wolfos and foe stuck knives were recoverable), get herself scorched and concussed (though hiding gave time for the ringing in her head to go away) and she could not tell for the life of her if she’d even managed to dent the thing’s vitality.
Time for a new strategy. Midna stepped out from her hiding spot onto the clear ground, a longsword cracking with electricity slung over her shoulder, put two fingers in between her lips and whistle shrilley to get their attention, before proceeding to spit basic level blasphemy at the nutjobs
”Your god sucks! All of my gods and goddesses, of light and dark, are great!” before using a shadow hand to pick up one of the brazier lanterns from the side of the room and hurling across the room at the priest while she raised her thunder infused blade with two hands, ready to meet the closer Sisters with shocking steel when her bait inevitably got them to charge her.
The Punished jumped down from the promontory to cross the open space of the fire sanctum, censers at the ready. Behind them the Harbinger followed at a confident, intimidating walk. Midna’s unconventional projectile, lobbed from so great a distance, failed to hit him, and as the peons closed in he proclaimed. “You cannot hide from your sins!” The next moment the shockingly uneven fight began. The first Sister began to spin, her censer held at its chain’s full length, and like a hammer throw closed in on Midna in a whirlwind of centripetal force. Though easily avoidable, the attack was nigh-unstoppable, even for a Sister of the Charred Visage. On her heels came a second brute, who came around with a single revolving strike that transitioned into an overhead slam. Both attacks left wide openings, but the space they controlled and the unblockable damage they commanded made them dangerous. Then, as if to add insult to injury, the Harbinger sent an explosive fireball arcing over the Punished to detonate at the front lines without regard for his allies.
Minda counter charged the Sister, leaping up into the air with a front flip over the top of the telegraphed censer swing, slamming the longsword blade into the Sister and sending a trio of lightning bolts crashing down into her for good measure. Then she used the force of her own blow to keep going, flipping over the second round swinging Sister’s strike as well to drive a near identical blow into her. With each hit Midna flipping over the top of the Sister as more lighting crashed down one either side of her, covering her flanks while the princess relied on the damage of the blows to heads or shoulders and the nerve rending electricity to if not kill then at least leave the Sisters behind her stunned enough that she had already moved on before they could turn and try and retaliate.
Should they even get the chance, because while Midna went crashing headlong towards the backlines with another flip, friendly-fire rained down on the nun she had already blasted over. The Harbinger did not stop to admire his handiwork, but spewed a column of incineration toward the Twilight Princes from his flamethrower, able to quickly adjust his aim if his target attempted an unwise dodge. “Buuuuuurn!”
Staying out of the Harboinger’s reach offered its own problems, however. The third Punished swung at Midna with an overhead smash while her allies, half-fried by the overgrown imp’s voltage, attempted to chase her down. Once close enough to attack they hammered like rail workers, alternating blows to lower the risk of bludgeoning an ally. Even in the depths of a fervor-induced rage, it seemed, these monsters shared the bond of sisterhood.
Midna’s response to this was to take the road none of them could, which was up, the princess interrupting another spin flip by violently bringing out her shadow hand, palm slapping the ground and in doing so using the mighty mitt to hurl her light frame up into the air at an angle away from the priest. As she went over the sisters she ditched the longsword, the blade smacking down into the stone ground point first and releasing a shockwave of lighting into the group, the stun and the reduced weight intended to give the princess the time and agility she needed to get clear of them and the priest.
The Sisters’ mauls cracked nothing but earth and cleaved through nothing but air as Midna escaped from their midst. Bewildered, they looked up to see her enemy’s weapon descending like a bolt from the blue. Then a surge of crackling electricity erupted between them, frying their twisted bodies in a chorus of screeches. Smoke rose from their clothes as they twisted and writhed, and Midna easily rose beyond their reach.
Looking on from a safe distance, the Harbinger huffed in annoyance. While he could launch more fireballs, even he could see the futility of trying to land a direct hit on such a mobile target. “You only delay the inevitable!” he proclaimed, pointing his finger at the floating princess. Two Percherónes leaped from the sidelines to try and tackle her mid-air, but even the best the Punished could do wasn’t good enough.
”Ha! I should have done this from the start” Midna declared before using a shadow hand to snatch one of the Percherónes out of the air and then toss him at one of the Sisters.
”Where’s your Miracle now huh? Probably making people suffer like a jerk rather than help you, if it even exists! Meanwhile the gods of twilight empowered my champions blade to restore my crown, and the Spirit’s of Light resurrected me when I fell against an evil far greater than your wretched god. Your faith is in nothing worthy of respect, let alone worship!” she proceeded to taunt them, mouth running while she tried to get around a certain conundrum, naimly that while she was safe up here she couldn't exactly hit them safely, what with her ranged options being lacking. Then she snapped her fingers
”Ah ha! How about I give you a little dance? Why am I asking, you can’t say no” she gloated, before beginning to bob and twirl in the air, raw physical power beginning to course through her vines as she performed the dragon dance free from reprisal.
While the sisters hurled religious damnation (and loose stones) at her (
”Everyone’s a critic” ) the priest turned and stomped towards the prisoners, which got the princess instantly worried. He did not, however, go for the recognisable prisoners, but instead went and banged his weapon against a cage against one with a misshapen mass of meat in it and commanding, “Awaken sinner, let your hate flow forth,” before gripping onto some kind of spike covered dias that the tipped over cage was chained too, mounting it like a Pulpit and commanding the sisters to join him.
”Ooo scary, meat in a cage and a whole half a meter-” the princess shouted down at him as the sisters also mounted up, only for her eyes to go wide behind her mask as the spiked dias suddenly rose up on a pair of massive chicken legs, dragging the cage into the air with it as the monster within began to scream and spew liquid vitriol around it as the twin demons that made up the
Hate Cage awoke.
“Witness your doom!” the preacher bellowed, astride atop the demon that was so tall he had to duck the cavern ceiling in some places while the three sisters clung to the side, whirling their massive flails defensively. The titan came stomping towards her, abit somewhat slowly, but that just gave the demon below aple time to spit blood red spitunes of pure hate at her.
The princess floated out the side, narrowly avoiding the first, and then was swept out of the way of the second by her Vibrava that she had summoned in, removing him from the other team in what she hoped would not be a detrimental fashion. The bug grappled her waist and tail, grinding its wings in her own double team maneuver, and the fight was on.
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