[center][color=c0c0c0][b][u]Slayer[/u][/b][/color]
Level 2
Day 1
Location: Abandoned Castle
[@Hylozoist] [@Holy Soldier] [@Gentlemanvaultboy] [@Lmpkio] [@Zarkun] [@ToadRopes] [@Bright_Ops]
[b]Word Count: 714
Experience: [color=orange]||[/color][color=black]||||||||||||||||||[/color][/b][/center]

Given his prediction, Slayer had not expected that his fist would cannon straight through Brigan's body, though under ordinary circumstances such an outcome would not have been completely out the question.  Nor did he imagine that the magical protection would shatter in an instant beneath the vigorous strength of Dead on Time.  However, he failed to anticipate that the killer technique would have glanced off the barbarian's silver buckler as though his sinews were stringbeans, leaving the gentleman in a precarious spot.  Not burdened by overbearing recovery time on his chosen move, Slayer thought to immediately disengage with a Dandy Step and perhaps follow up with a Pile Bunker.  His plans did not come to fruition.  [color=c0c0c0]”What!?”[/color]  Before he could even begin to act, Brigand's hand slammed into his torso with the force of a steam roller, smashing the breath out of him and giving him a one-way ticket to the opposite side of the burning hall...with no return ticket.

For a handful of moments after his tumbling ceased, Slayer floundered like a bird that crashed into a glass window.  As his breath returned, he steadied himself, and at a careful pace picked himself back up.  With an annoying expression he fished the crushed remnants of his pipe out of his breast pocket and discarded the litter into a nearby patch of fire.  A quick look around, during which he coughed more than once, helped him make up his mind.  [color=c0c0c0]”Blast...what a blow.  Rattled me teeth to toenails, I'll admit.”[/color]  The smoke made his eyes water, and Slayer produced a hankerchief to hold over his mouth.  From this distance at which he now stood, none of his allies could hear him, but nevertheless he remarked.  [color=c0c0c0]”An instant, unblockable, undodgeable counter to melee attacks...rough indeed.  Range would be the way to go, but alas, I have none.”[/color]  He watched Brigan flounce around the room, knocking down columns with ease.  One after another, the load-bearing pillars fell, the the entire castle rocked dangerously.  [color=c0c0c0]”What I wouldn't give for young miss Elphelt right now.  A steady barrage from her rifle would chip away those shields.  With any luck, the soldiers will figure it out.  I, however, elect to get while the getting's good, as they say.”[/color]

Slayer, his back somewhat bent and a hand across his aching chest, huffed and turned to leave.  He made his way to the castle door, and worked as he did to remember any advantageous terrain surrounding the place.  Crash after crash resounded through the hall as increasingly large chunks of the upstairs rained down.  One such hunk of stonework plummeted straight for Slayer, who was alerted by the disturbance of wind.  After breathing a light sigh, he tensed up and then let loose a flame-wreathed uppercut that sent chunks flying and redirected the rubble's force to his left.  Without pausing to admired the handiwork, Slayer brushed some of the stone dust from his suit and hurried toward the exist, both hands now throbbing.  [color=c0c0c0]”What a pain...a nice glass of red would be just the ticket to patching me up, yet I imagine that vendors would be hard to come by in this 'neck of the woods'.”[/color]  He glanced over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold.  [color=c0c0c0]”Were I not ejected so suddenly, I would have liked to advise the others to depart as well.  That mess will be a tomb in only a few minutes.”[/color]

Outside, the dusk lay solemn and pleasant, lit by the inferno that was consuming the abandoned castle.  Not for the first time, Slayer wondered what had become of his own teammates.  More manpower would go a long way to rectifying this situation.  Of course, Slayer did not pretend that the fight couldn't shift outside in a speedy manner once his comrades realized the peril of their surroundings and, upon hoofing it, drew Brigan along as well.  Out in the open, though, the brute would have a disadvantage.  Numbers would wear him down and divide his attention.  Actually, Slayer found himself wishing that the General would come out.  Possessed by a sudden competitive spirit, Slayer wanted to try ducking and dodging around him.  The thought of reducing the giant to a wrathful tantrum by being a hard-to-hit annoyance brought a subtle mischievous smirk to the gentleman's face.