[center][h3]Pelagic Lake[/h3]
[b]Location:[/b] the Land of Adventure
[@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN][@Gentlemanvaultboy][@Stern Algorithm][@TruthHurts22][/center]

In the wake of the blistering wind, Gran -the boy gripped by Linkle to avoid flying into the drink- yanked his sword free from the wooden walkway. He gave an agreeable nod to the archer, seemingly glad to have been of help, before turning his attention to the waters once again. Euden's efforts provided a brief respite, but the pelagics would not remain below for long. The boy in question, however, fell toward those perilous waters headfirst, awake but unable to stop his fall. Gran reached out a helpless hand, but Din leaped into action. The dancer pumped her wings and shot out over the open water. She caught him with her legs and continued onward, which seemed to fluster the lad despite a heroic effort to keep his composure. “Ah. Thank you very much,” he said, remarkably deadpan and proper. In a few moments the pair landed on the far shore, distant from danger but out of the fight even as it began anew.

Even without direction, the Gogoat managed to cut an impressive figure. Its Horn Leeches pierced the pelagics' scales with unusual efficiency, proving to the keen observer that puncturing worked far better than slicing. However, it could only rely on its instincts with its trainer so far away, and thus continued to harry the fishmen nearest the land as they reemerged. 

As Phoenix made his escape, evading chucked spears as he made his way upward, the pelagic guardian moved in. With his current physical ability, the monster grew closer faster than he climbed higher, but just before it could slice his ankle open with its cestus a barbed taunt drew its ire. Frothing, the creature turned about to face Geralt, whose silver blade was bared. Phoenix ascended out of its reach, hastened upward by pelagic spears, but the guardian no longer seemed to care. A hideous, guttural sputtering noise resounded from its gullet as it beat its shield with its cestus, crimson eyes filled with murderous intent.

[i]BA-BOOM![/i]

Two bomb arrows struck it square in the face and blew up together, staggering the sputtering fiend. Behind Linkle and Geralt, pelagics rose from the water once again, a good eleven or twelve more ready to tear the heroes a new one with only Gran to hold them off. The rabbit-eared girl had dealt their boss a hefty blow, however, leaving the Witcher a golden opportunity to start the hunt.

[center][h3]Donnie and Nero[/h3]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1621
[b]EXP:[/b] (23/30) + 3 = 26/30
[b]Location:[/b] Charnel Lane, Dead Zone[/center]

"GRRGH...RAAAGH...URGH...AAAAAAAAGH...." That was a rough approximation of Donnie grunting, straining, and half-yelling with exertion as he attempted to push a Class B motorhome up a cliff, from over the edge, by hand. The Disc was helping the logistical side of things, but whenever Nero's grip faltered, he had to also remember to stop the Disc's movement to accordingly to prevent himself from getting squished.

Yes, he was in peak physical condition for a human, and yes, a superhumanly-strong person was helping pull the van up the cliff from the other end, but that didn't mean that this wasn't the biggest workout he'd gotten all year. And that included the bigger missions with twenty-four other adventurers!

But eventually, the van made it up the other side. Donnie fell backwards on the Disc, too overexerted to really do anything as he absentmindedly commanded the platform drop on the ground next to the van with him on it.

"Hey...Nero..." he said as he panted and gasped for air. "These guys"--he took in a deep breath--"are just minions, I think." He sat up, his breathing becoming more relaxed. "I think we might be under-gunned. With those four kids in the fancy car, I thought we [i]might[/i] have had enough people, but those idiots ran ahead without us, charged in swinging against a threat they were [i]not[/i] equipped to fight, and left as soon as they realized they couldn't solo the Qliphoth."

He pointed to the teleporter. "So now we're down four people. I think we need backup. [i]Lots[/i] of backup. I've got some more people I can call on the other end of the teleporter, but they're all on their own missions and you said we're meeting someone named V. If those two demons gave us that much trouble, I figure you probably already had allies in mind. If you [i]do[/i] have your own backup, you think that'll be enough with the talking skeleton over there?" he said, finishing his statement by pointing to Mr. Bones.

Nero heaved a ragged side. His focus made it clear that he wanted anything but to be sitting on the sidelines, having a chat while his muscles ached, but he needed time to recover. In a coarse voice, he told Donnie, “Problem’s not too few fighters, it’s too many. Gettin’ in each others’ way, not working together. Nico doesn’t usually hang ‘round with me while I work, and for good reason. Protecting’s a hell of a lot harder than hunting, and you can’t do both at once.” Reaching down, he selected the last arm off of the magazine that hung on his waist, another Gerbera. It socketed in nice and neat, a few jolts coming off it as it came to life. A deep breath, in and out. “Some problems can’t be solved by throwing more people at ‘em, Handlebar,” he said. “Should have left this to me. Let’s clean up here and find V at that cathedral.”

“Fair point,” Donnie said as he recovered enough that he could push himself to his feet. “We weren’t exactly a well-oiled machine back there. Oh, by the way, I cured Gene. Found something off the Tank, a little black stone that redirected a curse onto itself, and I guess whatever he caught behaved like one. It broke in the process though.”

Then Donnie realized in shock that Gene might have used the van’s shower. And then decided to bring it up to Nero later when the demon was dead.

He offered a hand to Nero. “Anyway, you ready to kill that big demon over there?”

Nero snorted and stood up himself. “Past ready.”

Donnie chuckled as he retracted his hand and unsheathed his weapons before rocketing into battle against the Suffering. He coordinated his assault with Gene’s Shockwave, delivering a Blackout Kick to the side of its head as he passed by (after the shockwave hit it of course), following up with an attempt to cut a nice, wide gash into its giant upper-left arm muscles on the next pass. If he did this right, he’d be out of its reach before it even knew what hit it, while it would be bleeding from a spot that most [i]certainly[/i] had a lot of blood vessels to drain.

The impromptu double attack struck the enraged Suffering head-on. First came a point-blank crack of lightning, stunning the demon in its tracks and frying its foul flesh. As the brute struggled to keep itself upright, the second part of the one-two punch hit home, with Donnie’s foot cracking the skulls lining its head before the monk ploughed a wide furrow into its arm. Unholy ichor spattered onto the burial grounds as the Suffering rolled over sideways. Temporarily immobilized and with a guard wide open--Nero could not have asked for a better shot. 

His Blue Rose unleashed a charged shot with a brilliant blue flash, and two bullets whizzed between Gene and Donnie to bury themselves in the Suffering’s head, sending skull shards flying. The ravenous bullets tore through the demon, snaking through its body on their own, piercing organs as they carved twin tunnels of agony. Two more fully charged shots joined the party as Nero strode forward, gun arm extended. While the damage done by his shots couldn’t be seen, the monster reeled in pain, barely able to move. And still, Blazermate’s sentry needled it, just about ready to run out of ammo.

Donnie alighted next to the fallen beast as he got off the Disc. Its head was exposed and wide open, and the skulls it used as armor were already cracked. Excellent. Time to make its day even worse.

He raised his leg in a complete 90-degree split, filling it with chi and bringing it down onto its skull-covered cranium with enough force to completely shatter what was left of the macabre shell, exposing its bloodied-up mottled green flesh for the world to see. The force of the impact shattered its teeth, lacerating the inside of its mouth and causing it to bleed profusely from its gaping maw. He sliced a few times at the bloody skin and muscle for good measure, more for catharsis after it made him lift up that godsdamned van more than anything else.

Then came the van.

Without a moment’s notice Nico’s van careened into the Suffering from the front. The other heroes could scarcely get out of the way in time before the stone-breaking front of the Minotaur reduced the compromised beast to demon mulch and bone dust. 

After a few bumps the vehicle came to a halt, and a breathless holler echoed from the driver’s seat. “Whooooooooowee! Howja like that, li’l bitch?” The bits beneath -and clinging to- her tires began to turn to ash, and a Suffering spirit drifted out from under the chassis. That made two, though a number of undead remained in addition to the stumbling reanimated corpses. The aggressive ones that remained lost the green luster in their eyes, and started mindlessly ambling toward the heroes to be cut down.

One particular undead, however, walking right up. Though a perfectly white skeleton, he moved naturally, and his blue eyes held the twinkle of humanity. “Whoa!” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he tried to break the ice. “Amazin’ job there, y’all.” He gave a thumbs-up before crossing his arms. “I’m, uh, Mr. Bones. Good to meet ya.” A thousand or so feet to the north, the other skeleton lounged against a headstone with a casual grin, uninterested in meeting the new arrivals.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t discount [i]your[/i] role. Those lightning bolts were handy. And the name’s Donnie.” He held out a hand for the skeleton to shake. He knew undead well, and it was pretty obvious that Mr. Bones was the “non-mindless” kind. It would be good to have someone who knew the area well, but it would be up to Nero to decide if Mr. Bones was going to stay...assuming he even wanted to go through this entire trip in the first place.

Bones took the offered hand. “Huh,” he said. “I knew you were good folks.” After shaking, he ended up scratching the back of his head. “Well, uh, hate to bail on ya but I gotta find this dirtbag called DaGoulian. I’ll see y’all around.”

“Uh...before you go…” Donnie said before Mr. Bones left. “A fair number of us are new to the Dead Zone, and since you live here, do you mind giving us the lay of the land? [i]You’re[/i] clearly here, so I figured you might know if there’s any more people we can talk to in this region for supplies or information, you know, that sort of stuff.”

The monk’s skeletal acquaintance shook his head. “Ain’t a lot of dead with their wits left about ‘em. I’m new in the city myself...Dead Zone, you said? Heh. Haven’t really mapped the place. It’s just too dangerous, and I’m not even alive. We came by the Cathedral, barely got around this freaky horse monster. If you’re headed up there, be careful.”

Walking by, Nero smirked. “Just our luck.” A bang rang out as he plugged a zombie with the Blue Rose, after which he hopped inside the van as it started to roll. “Take care yourself, Bones.” Miraculously the demon hunter seemed well, which explained his eagerness to move on. The others, even Jak, could either keep up, pile in, or fall behind.

“See you around,” Donnie said to the skeleton as he scooped up the Disc, grabbed the Suffering Spirits, and jumped into the van. He held up the Spirits, asking the others as the Van started moving, “Hey, anyone want those demons’ Spirits? They could make good equipment.”