A skill Seeker and Warlord [@Crimson Paladin][@VitaVitaAR] [hr] It seemed the axe man overestimated his confidence. As the blade pressed against his neck, he’d make a move to pull away, but Nobunaga was far faster and far more dextrous than the larger hunter. The Katana, if she so wished, would easily slice right through the man's neck. His body would instantly go limp, crumpling to the ground with a heavy thud. “H-he’s dead!” “Right through his neck!” “Alright alright!” The three hunters, while seeming mostly unfazed by the death, did seem a bit perturbed by just how easy and how fast Nobunaga had dispatched the larger man. It seemed if nothing else, they recognized someone with actual fighting skills instead of their own skills better suited to hunting and tracking animals. “L-look we’ll talk.” “The Illuminator can’t normally come to the mortal realm, y’see.” One would begin. “We don’t really know why. Something about it being really bad if he did and the fact that…what was her name again? The one that doesn’t like being spoken about.” “Rifelshka. The Goddess of the underworld…she doesn’t like it when gods meddle in mortal affairs. Gets real angry. She and the Moon Goddess had a fight once over it.” “R-right, anyways…so he uses the two Faces he wears. The Old man and the Hag.” The third would continue. “N-normally they’d have stayed put in the temple, sleeping until the Illuminator had needed us. But…it was a long few years ago now? Probably when my father was just a fledgling hunter himself - the Hag was just gone one day. Vanished! The old man woke up later…I think my father said he ranted about ‘one of his terminals being hijacked’.” “We were told to hunt and find her otherwise some bad stuff would happen. The old man would leave after that, too, but he’d occasionally show up and tell us something else. Soyala has been the only one to really meet with him recently, but the rest of us haven’t seen him in awhile. That’s all we really know. She says Lazhira is the one that is the root of these problems and if we get her we can fix the seal.” “Dunno anything else, honest.” The first one would say again, raising his hands in a defensive fashion. “The orbs are sort of the key to it. If we can get both of them we could fix it…we only know one key is a crystalline orb but…someone stole it from the temple before we could do anything with it. We thought it was Lazhira, but it doesn’t seem like she has it.” Well, that was hopefully some helpful information from the hunters. Seemed the root of this whole problem might have been the Hag, Lazhira, and Soyala herself. A Traveler [@PaulHaynek] [hr] “...you’re naive.” The young woman replied, finally pulling down her hood, revealing the rest of her face to Nicholas finally. Two white furry wolf-like ears poked from the top of her head, her mostly pale skin on an otherwise pretty face though, was horrifically scarred on one side as though the entire left side of her face had not only been horribly burned but someone had attempted to take a sword to her head, too having once left a deep wound that left a scar across her cheek. “Why…even come here if you didn’t intend to?” She’d quietly question, seeming a bit confused. She didn’t seem hostile at least, but she still wasn’t being overly friendly either. The apparent wolf? Girl would quietly walk over to the fireplace, getting a ladle and dipping it into the stew. “But if you…want to know…well…its the Apostles.” She’d say with obvious disdain. “The village…used to worship the Goddess of the Underworld, Rifelshka, but the Apostles…well…they didn’t approve. Turned the village against us and killed my parents…tried to kill me too, but…I was good with…magic.” …well, she didn’t seem like she was lying and Nicholas didn’t feel in any sort of danger here…well, yet. “...I’ve used the goddess teachings to just do what they deserve. Not like I’m living…either the villagers will get to me, or the Apostles will…if…they don’t…the Maids will.” She’d fill two bowls as she talked, placing them on the table quietly. “...If you’re not going to leave, then I guess I can let you stay here tonight.” Well, it was a generous offer, but she did only seem to have a single bed. [hr] Send Feet Pics [@Cu Chulainn] [hr] Nomura strained against the blow, gripping his fan tightly as he tried to take in the sheer force of the Oni’s strike. The parry had worked, but the strength of his foe had still done a number on the weaker Nomura. Still, he had a good enough gauge of his foe’s strength from that attack. Seeing that a simple strike from the Oni could do that much damage, Nomura at least confirmed the obvious about his foe: Getting directly hit by him should be avoided at all costs. Nomura didn’t have much time to think on this, however, as the Oni’s jab had almost caught him by surprise. He quickly bent his knees and leaned back, impressively dodging the blow at the expense of the tip of his mask’s beaky nose. The merchant likely wouldn’t have pulled off such a maneuver if not for the various team building exercises he encouraged his followers to undertake in a past life, specifically a game that gauged the rare ability of how low one could go. Seeing that his knees were already bent and to recover from his currently disadvantageous position, Nomura would spring backwards as he utilized the momentum to perform some sort of flip. Sadly, backflipping was not something a cult leader would normally practice, so as he began his descent, he would pray for a miracle. Luckily for Nomura, he had accomplished the miracle of flight two days ago, so it wasn’t too hard to imagine, taking much less effort to actualize once more as ethereal wings shimmered from his back. The pale man would gracefully land, earning his footing once more with the aid of his wings. He held his fan outward as he shifted himself into a more defensive stance, allowing his empty hand to actually grip his blade as he awaited his opponent to approach. “Ho. Strong and quick.” The Oni would say, having watched Nomura’s display of both strength and agility. He’d wrap both of his hands around the hilt of the large Katana again. Seemingly intrigued by this human, the Oni rushed forwards with a deep, guttural roar in an effort to seemingly intimidate but it’d do little more than send a few shivers down Nomura’s spine. The blade cleaved upwards, but this time the Oni would follow it up with a kick, using the momentum to shove his foot against Nomura’s chest. The rhythm of combat slowly came to Nomura, likened to that of divine insight. The more he fought this Oni, the more he was able to notice his foe’s very movements. Of course, he had been playing on the defensive this entire time, watching and waiting for his foe to make the next move. The more Nomura thought of it, the more he began to see combat similar to how he would go about meeting new people, those he was interested in. It was simple communication skills, the ability to read one’s body language and other non-verbal queues. To Nomura, the lines between combat and communication began to blur. “[color=lavender]You flatter me, truly. But you are mistaken.[/color]” Nomura chuckled nervously for a brief moment before his grip loosening ever so slightly. He would appear to falter briefly, as if he was truly shaken by his opponent’s attempt to demoralize Nomura. And why wouldn’t it? He held the advantage in terms of strength and experience. As the brutish swordsman made his charge towards Nomura, it would be rather apparent that his grip on his sword had been abandoned entirely. Nomura’s will would appear to be crushed. If only the Oni could see the look underneath his foe’s mask… … Of course, Nomura knew that he couldn’t. Otherwise, he would see the deterministic grin underneath. As stated previously, Nomura had a good grasp on reading others down to even the slightest of movements. He was not a trained warrior, so he could not dare attempt to deceive his foe with any standard feint. Instead, he used his lack of training to his advantage, allowing his apparent fear to grant his adversary a sliver of confidence in his next attack, one Nomura would easily see in his movements. What was left was simple physics. The Oni’s attacks relied primarily on the momentum of his massive blade. All Nomura needed to do was move accordingly. As his opponent approached, Nomura veered to the side opposite of his foe’s rising leg as he quickly shifted the grasp of his fan into both hands before swinging it at the Oni’s sword. However, rather than directly clashing with that steel behemoth like before, he would instead perform a more proper parry, stepping forward and directing both the blade and its wielder slightly off course, just enough for Nomura to hopefully avoid his opponent’s kick. “[color=lavender]I’ve no doubt your strength surpasses mine. As for speed, I only appear faster due to our choice of weapons and differing builds.[/color]” Nomura stated as a matter of fact, taking a step closer as his gambit had worked. He would once more focus his magical energy into his arm, like he had done just earlier. However, rather than holding onto the fan, he would let go and pull his arm backward, winding up for an unarmed strike. “[color=lavender]I am not strong, nor am I quick.[/color]” It was true. Even if he were blessed with such an astounding body, he was bound by the physical limits of the human form. Instead, he had to rely on the power within himself, to draw it out and actualize it into a tangible form he could use, in order to match the Oni at all. To Nomura’s understanding, in order to use this power welling within him, he had to [i]believe[/i] he could accomplish such things. And in this very moment, he believed he could defeat his opponent. “[color=lavender]I merely have faith in myself![/color]” Nomura concluded, launching an outstretched palm for the swordsman’s face. The magical energy within his arm surged forth, once again granting him strength he normally would not have. It happened fairly quickly. The Oni’s powerful kick merely met air, the sword was pushed aside, its momentum directed away from Nomura. The Oni was merely grinning as the white-haired man would wind up a blow, perhaps finding some bit of enjoyment in this. Nomura’s palm struck the Oni right across the face in what could only be called the biggest bitch-slap in history. The Oni’s body would be physically pushed to the side from the strength of the blow. The muscled warrior would, for the briefest of moments, be stunned from the impact…though Nomura’s hand would also now be stinging as though he had just slammed his hand as hard as he could against a massive slab of steel. Might as well have been what he did smash it again. There was silence as the rest of the Oni seemed to look on in mild shock and perhaps, a bit of awe that would shortly be followed by loud, raucous laughter. “Hm…” The oni would straighten himself, spitting blood out of his mouth with a grin. “You talk almost as hard as you hit, human.” He’d heft the blade onto his shoulder, extending a hand to Nomura. “Chōhei.” Nomura stepped back at his attack, momentarily caught in surprise at how effective it actually was. As the adrenaline began to fade, he would then realize just how much in pain his hand was. If not for his mask, the Oni would likely see Nomura wincing in agony. He would look at his hand for a brief moment, actually worried that he had broken a nail. Of course, all these worries faded away when Nomura had realized he actually “won” the battle, having been snapped out of his worrisome trance by the laughter of the other Oni. He clenched his fist in victory, having properly proved that his resolve would overcome the mere brute strength of these Oni. Nomura would look on to his opponent in question, watching him with curiosity as his hand would extend outward. “[color=lavender]I’d hope so. I do pride myself in my silver tongue, after all.[/color]” Nomura would chuckle, before extending his sprained hand to Chōhei and doing his best to mask his pained wincing. “[color=lavender]Shigenaga Nomura. You honor me by not underestimating my abilities.[/color]” “Underestimating someone, gets a warrior killed.” The larger humanoid would grab Nomura’s hand, the powerful grip threatening to crush the already likely to be bruised appendage, but he’d “Lady Mie’s already told us to train you.” He’d say. “Good to know we won’t accidentally kill you.” With that he’d release the human from his grip, sheathing the blade at his side as he’d turn and start walking away. “I think you impressed them.” Mie would make herself known with a laugh of her own. “Haven’t seen Chōhei interested in someone in awhile, either, heh.” She’d pass Nomura a small bottle of what seemed to be some sort of medicinal salve with a grin. “Should help the pain in your hand. The Oni usually train in the evenings or mornings. You’ll be happy to know I’ve told them to drag you there if you don’t show up. If you don’t need anything else though, I have some business to attend to myself.” She’d walk off, leaving Nomura to find something to do in the meantime himself…assuming he didn’t want to stick his nose into Mie’s business. Perhaps he could get more acquainted with the Oni? Seemed he had their begrudging respect at least, for now if nothing else. The Roma Mob [@ERode] [hr] “Lotta help you are.” She’d snarkily reply with a huff of frustration. “Just cuz I hate this job doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.” Defensive tone aside, the young elf pointed towards some goods that seemed less useful for stabbing and more for cleaning. “Whetstones, oil for blade shining, cloths for cleaning.” Octavia would stand on her hind legs, leaning up on the counter and looking up at Raelzeth, her furry ears just poking above the counter. “Uh...forging though, uh, definitely not my thing.” She’d somewhat sheepishly admit, before turning her head in the direction of the forge. “HEY DAD!” The sounds of hammer on metal would trail off, a grunt of effort followed by the sizzling of steam as a blade was quenched. A few heavy steps would follow as a Elf that was built more like a dwarf would walk out. Short, at about only five foot five, head full of swept back silver hair, with a full beard that was braided with a few decorations and dressed in full apron and thick leather gloves and boots. The rest of his face seemed covered in soot, ash, or oil. He’d heft the forging hammer over his shoulder. “Hm? What’s up, Rael? Customer giving you problems?” “Nah. Guy wanted to know about forging stuff.” “Anything specifically? Or you want something special made?” [hr] Back to Roots [@Guy0fV4lor][@Crusader Lord] [hr] [hider=Reclaiming the Past] Donovan hopped from the carts with a grunt; his tired eyes newly alight with a noticeably unnatural glow. Cracking his knuckles, the man smirked at his newfound sensation of overall wellness, a far cry from what it had been mere moments before… But he hadn’t the spare time to admire his newfound energy– there was a job to do. Approaching the edge of the gaping sinkhole, Donovan’s luminous disks surveyed what lay below with a scrutinizing gaze. [Color=lightgreen]"Hmmmm… Seems weh got th’ best case scenario ere’... Golem seems tah still beh gettin’ power though… But aye don’t recall them stairs bein’ there before… Has someone else been ere’?"[/color] he muttered to himself before turning back to the others, [Color=lightgreen]"Right then– aye got meh second wind, let’s get tah work! Weh got th’ best case scenario an’ not much time! Eirhild, toss them weapons on tha’ carts an’ come with meh, first thing we’re gonna do es rip out whatever’s still got magic in th’ golem down there. Akando an’ Leannah aye need th’ two ah yah tah watch our backs and guide th’ carts down them stone steps o’er there as aye make em’ traversable."[/color] Wasting no time, Donovan would begin descending the stone steps into the withering garden, bringing his fingers to his lips and summoning his workforce with a high-pitched whistle; putting them to work on chiseling the jagged steps into something the carts could be safely led down. “E-eh? Well, don’t mind if I do. Oh the scholars would kill to get their hands on this stuff.” Eirhild chuckled, picking up just about as many weapons as her little dwarvish self could carry…which was a lot, in quite honesty likely thanks to a much stouter constitution. She’d toss them haphazardly onto the back of the nearest cart before running over. “Mhm, leave the lookout to me.” Akando responded. Honestly, the guy looked a little spooked - if the fact he kept looking over his shoulder and the fact he was gripping his spear tight enough to cause his knuckles to whiten were anything to go by. “Be careful down there…this place feels like we shouldn’t be here.” “Oi…and who are these boyos?” Eirhild would ask as she’d catch up to Donovan. The spectral builders would give a friendly wave to Donovan, as though they were greeting an old friend before promptly getting to work. It’d likely take them a good while - the stairs were really less stairs, and more jagged slabs of rock jutting from the wall forming several steps one could take to the bottom. “They’re workin’ harder than a dwarf after a pint of Rusty Ale and a tavern brawl.” [color=gold]“Just be careful as we’re approaching the golem, Donovan. I fought the thing briefly on the way out of this place initially, and nearly died from it. Anything still left inside of it could be just as dangerous even now. Even lodged my spear into it and it didn’t even hesitate for a second….and I would actually like that spear of mine back if we get the chance.”[/color] After calling out to Donovan, Leannah swiftly moved over to the cart Eirhild had thrown the surprisingly large amount of weapons into and began to briefly rifle through the pile as she kept her ears open. The idea was to nab some kind of other sword or weapon that would work most efficiently and fluidly with her own martial capabilities. Something simple to attach to her side or such in the meantime for use in any potential battle. Indeed, she would have no trouble finding more weapons. Swords, axes, bows, katana…spears even. Seemed enough for her, enough to grab a proper spear to keep on her back, and a proper [url=https://i.imgur.com/8cG9vNa.jpg] arming sword[/url] to keep at her side respectively. Then after this very short pitstop, she would quickly take her post at the rear with Akando to keep watch. No sense in dawdling around like an idiot this time. [hider=Goddess note: Leannah] Items received: Ancient Sword: This appears to be a simple arming sword. Well crafted, but obviously aged beyond any recognizable features. The grip on its hilt seems to have once been dyed blue, with the pommel having been engraved with a decorative crest of some sort. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be. Ancient Spear A spear of fine make, if somewhat mundane looking. Its shaft is made of wood, its finishing having eroded away and leaving the wood beneath visible. It is surprisingly heavy in her hands despite her strength, but perfectly balanced. The tip is fairly long, at least a foot in length of sharpened metal. A small groove runs alongside the bottom of the blade towards the tip. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be. [/hider] Yet turning her gaze to her fellow rearguard, the Bastelian felt that even a human could pick up on how he was acting. White knuckles and tenseness, a seemingly spooked nature, all the signs of a jumpy person. Then again, the only reason she was initially calm at the moment was the fact the golem was not moving and a lot of the crazy stuff looked outright [b]dead[/b]. Still, she tried to give a reassuring nod to Akando as she kept her ears and eyes and other senses otherwise peeled for the first whiff of danger. [Color=lightgreen]"Aye Leannah, ah plan to."[/color] Don replied over his shoulder as he’d wave back to the worker that had greeted him, before turning back to Eirhild and continuing the descent down into the garden’s remains. [Color=lightgreen]"Honestleh, I ain’t real sure what they are lass, aye just know they run off meh own strength an’ magic, have they own tools, an’ do what aye tell em to… As tah how aye learned that wee trick, mebbe aye’ll tell yah sometime. Speakin’ ah work, yeh got a contract with Mie yet? Or yeh undecided how long yer gonna be werkin fer her for?"[/color] “Oh that? She wants the recipe for that Beast bait. That stuff that almost turned me into food.” Eirhild would respond. “Asked her for safe passage north in return for it. Truthfully, I ain’t got any destination in mind. Just would like to be as far away from them mountains as possible. I’m not gettin’ caught up in some dumb conflict cuz some old stone-bearded idiots can’t get along.” The trip down to the garden was thankfully uneventful. The closer they got to the now wilting garden it’d be easy to see most of the thralls were now withered and as lifeless as it was with their main source of life and influence seemingly gone, and soon their feet would touch wilted, brown grass. The trees were still standing, but the fruit and bark had rotted. That saccharine smell replaced with one that would have made less stout people retch in revulsion. Perhaps, revealing their true nature. “Ya know, Donovan, was kinda hopin’ you were takin’ me to some mine to look at some pretty jewels. Not some place that smells worse than a barrack.” The dwarf scrunched her nose, walking over to the defunct golem. “This is a mighty fine piece of stonework though…” Curiously the chest of the golem was open, the inside space just large enough for a human to comfortably sit in. Two slabs of stone were jutting out of its sides, almost like it was covering the hole and was meant to open. The interior was dark, but…oddly mechanical in construction. In fact, if Donovan had any knowledge of such things, it’d look almost like some sort of cockpit. The only foliage here that were still alive were the vines connected to the golem…if he decided to take a closer look to them, they’d eventually lead him to a bed of flowers, also roughly the size of a human. The same, tarry, coloration and emanating that same, sickly sweet smell. The middle of the bed was a single, large plant, looking more like some sort of flytrap. Most of the vines coming from the golem were coming from it…or perhaps, going to it. [Color=lightgreen]"Sorreh bout that lass, aye know the stench is ah bit nasty but ah’m hopin’ that what we’re pullin out es well worth tha trouble..."[/color] Donovan chuckled as he stepped towards the last living growth in this god-forsaken garden, his good-natured smile falling away to a cold sense of dread. Whatever this was… His every sense screamed it was something bad… [b]VERY[/b] bad. Even so, the browning at its edges and overall lack of anything seemingly meant to sustain it suggested that the plant had served its purpose… As to what that was, Donovan hadn’t the slightest clue– but regardless, he didn’t intend on letting the accursed thing live. Pulling his hammer from his belt, he extended the flow of the divine energies through his weapon, and brought it down on the last living vestige of demonic filth lurking in the ancient ruin. Meanwhile, Akando would seemingly relax after Leannah acknowledged him. Perhaps he was glad that some rumordely strong Bastelian was on his side. “...Bastelian…Leannah,” He’d begin, a bit uncertain. “You two have…been here before.” A simple enough statement of curiosity. The Bastelian briefly hesitated, but let out a sigh and gave a small nod to the man as she crossed her arms. The golem was already an unnerving sight to her, but she hoped Donovan would have some sense before doing anything big down there. [color=gold]“We have. Not that we need to tell everyone, but since we’re here it is relevant enough experience. But that story needs to be for later on the way back, after this situation is figured out here hopefully and La-”[/color] Donovan’s hammer would strike downwards, the flat head of the hammer infused with holy might. It would slam into the top of the plant. Its reaction, its pain, and its fury was evident almost immediately. A horrible, ear splitting screech would interrupt Leannah’s words, loud enough to momentarily deafen both Donovan and Eirhild both. His hammer would strike, and injure, but not kill. Vines would rise from the ground, one aimed to impale Donovan’s face, more, attempting to wrap around his legs and entangle him, while another would attempt to bind his hammer arm in order to stop it from striking again. “Sages blood Donovan what’d ye do!?” Eirhild would shout, though it’d be hard to hear her over her ringing ears. From above, if Leannah or Akando looked down, they’d see the blue light that had seemingly been a sign of power in the golem, take a darker hue. [Color=lightgreen]"FUCK!"[/color] Don shouted as he narrowly avoided the thick vine shooting toward his face, it’s pointed tip carving a deep gash across his cheek as it passed by the side of the man’s head. Even in the milliseconds that had passed, he could feel the demon pushing it’s power into the fallen guardian; its crawling corruption moving to a far more threatening host. Donovan grimaced as his thoughts raced– he couldn’t cut the roots in time, even if he hit the creature again there was no guarantee it would die, and even if he went for a third swing it’d likely have already taken the golem over… As far as Don could tell; the quickest way to end this damn thing would be from the inside… Make the damn thing rot from the inside out like the rest of this damnable garden. Even as the vines reached and grabbed for him, Donovan lunged forward into the main body of the plant; his hammer dropping from his grasp as he drove his hands into its mass. Pulling the mana from his left hand, Don created a void within himself and pulled the flow of demonic mana inside him– allowing the resulting ‘pressure’ to drive his own divine energies into the creature through his right hand. For the barest moment, he’d attached himself as an added blood vessel, parasite to the parasite trying to escape him. Donovan’s cheek would burn lightly, the wound no doubt tainted by whatever foul blood this creature possessed. So he’d shove his hand into the creatures maw, the fleshy insides squelching as he would sink elbow deep into the corrupted plant mass. First, he would create a vacuum. The foul creatures magic would be pulled in two directions, quite literally stretching itself thin as it struggled to hold onto it - it didn’t seem like it wanted Donovan to have it, but it [i]would[/i] create a sufficient void within the plant for Donovan to drive his divine might into. The creature would shriek again, its body bloating in size as it was forcefully injected with Divine fury. More vines would lash towards Donovan. Instead of merely immobilizing, it was going fully for the kill. Eirhild, seeing what was going on and having some grasp of the situation, was cutting both vines and roots with her blade. A pained gargle, as the creature would release Donovan, attempting to scramble away, using its own vines to mutilate itself, tearing a part of its own body apart to free itself of Donovan’s gasp. Hearing Donovan’s rather loudly shouted exclamation, Leannah was cut off from her speaking as she instinctively swiveled about in haste. It didn’t take more than a second for her to start darting to the edge of the pit below, and on sight of the demonic plant trying to flee from a pained-looking Donovan she didn’t hesitate to raise up a hand and let her mana begin to flow. Not as much as the last time she’d performed this little stunt of creating a small, exploding sun of plasma, but enough to form a respectable attack that would not explode as badly as last time. The intent was more like a grenade-level thing, and so without hesitation the feminine feline cut off herself when it reached a certain size and set the spell to blow up before she threw the small ball of destruction as hard as she could toward the fleeing demonic plant. The desired destination of her thrown magical attack was to land it in front of the thing in the direction it was fleeing, to avoid hitting Donovan, but still close enough that it hopefully couldn’t escape the radius. At least that was the goal. She wouldn’t pause after, however, as right after throwing the attack with all she could muster to do it right Leannah began to try to make her way down to the bottom of the pit in a hurry to get to where Donovan and Eirhild were. Leannah’s instincts were spot on, at least. Less power than she had used last time, back in the halls of the Illuminator, but enough to be a tangible threat. The spherical ball of fire would grow to the size of a baseball, pulsing, undulating, wanting to suck in more of her mana to grow bigger it felt like, but it was nothing she hadn’t felt before. It would sail to the bottom of the pit, aimed just a bit in front of the demon plant. And slam right beside the demon as it’d attempt to evade, only to blast it towards the edge of the circular platform that made up the land here. “Kkkrrrr…..” A small, last, pathetic whimper from the plant as it was soundly torched by Leannah’s grenade, burning as it would attempt to drag itself towards the sea below. Donovan himself, by now, would for the most part feel fine after that exertion. His left hand he had used to grab ahold of the demon plant to stop it from escaping seemed to mostly be fine. His hand would throb lightly, tired from exertion, and it was covered in a thin film of tar he’d likely wish to wash off sooner rather than later, but for the most part, it seemed he’d suffer no immediate ill effects from hooking himself up to the demon. Yet…as he’d pursue the plant, perhaps, what he’d think was an errant thought would intrude on his mind. [i]“Fatheeeeeer….whyyy…”[/i] A low, droning, hard to grasp thought…but it would be over as quickly as it came, and Donovan wouldn’t be even sure he had remembered or even thought it. Donovan hefted himself back to his feet as the demon’s frantic retaliation abated; taking up his hammer once more as he’d pursue what was left of the wretched creature before it could escape into the waters below. Launching himself forward, Donavan twisted his grip on his hammer, swinging the pointed end of his weapon down in a final coup-de-gras aimed to pin the burning mass where it was– that it would have no chance of escape before the fire would finish it off. The demons screeched, a final death rattle as the vines moving it would shudder and convulse until finally, it would lay still, dead. Its body would soon begin withering, turning a shade of light brown and its vines shrinking as life left it. There was nothing else alive, here it seemed. He could still sense little specks of demons far off, if he focused, but they were scattered and likely nothing more than remnants of the things that had once been here. More importantly though, the golem would remain still and silent, its blue light remaining as such, though still a bit darker than what it originally had been. Just as well, it seemed his lack of focus caused his spectral workers to enter a sort of standby state. Seemed fighting while still having them be active was still a bit beyond him. Arriving at the bottom, Leannah let out a sigh of relief at seeing the demon plant dead. Just. Dead. Not moving, no golem moving around, nothing but herself and Eirhild and Donovan. She’d beeline it first over to the golem, using her longsword to chop up anything still attached to the golem externally before sheathing it by her side and looking inward. The pilot-style cockpit of the thing was concerning, especially given it was open and no one was inside. The Bastelian grimaced at the thought that someone had been trying to kill them with that thing, though just ‘who’ it could have been was still a mystery…one that would come to bite them in the butt once more if they were unlucky enough. Part of her worried about Donovan’s own state, and seemed to tug at her to check on him, but as he was the one left standing after that battle it felt slightly less concerning to her in the immediate aftermath than the golem itself. Donovan could perhaps run or get moving as it looked on the surface to her, but if this thing got moving that was not going to be a good thing at all. To that end, the catgirl would begin to examine, scour, and try to study the golem itself. An air of caution would be used as well, but she wouldn’t hold back trying to grasp anything about it that she could for safety purposes. She’d even try to cram inside and look about in there if she could. Then in the end she’d even step out of it, putting a hand on it and channeling magic out to try to get a ‘grasp’ of it, to ‘feel out’ the golem’s structure and such for herself and maybe get an idea of it if that was possible. Anything to try to get the best and most detailed idea about this thing and its parts and such that she could. Was this all safe to do? She had no idea, but was trying to be careful but thorough. She didn’t want to risk this thing becoming a potential danger [b]yet again[/b] if she could help it. Donovan stared at the slick residue coating his left forearm as the creature finally quivered it’s last– only now realizing what it was he’d thought he’d heard. He chewed his lip nervously, had the creature been referring to [i]him?[/i] Or was it instead referring to… Don cleared the thought with a shake of his head; turning the tar to ash with a firm pulse of holy energy. [Color=lightgreen]"Back tah work yew lot!"[/color] Donovan hollered at the ghostly workers before turning, and walking to Eirhild and Leannah. [Color=lightgreen]"Sorreh bout that. Didn’t think tha’ bastard ad’ that much fight in em’. Erreybodeh all right?"[/color] “It’d have been nice to have a bit of a warnin’” Eirhild responded with a huff, tapping her blade against her shoulder as she’d respond. “I dunno what this thing is or what that was, but it didn’t seem right at all. A plant ain’t supposed to move like that.” At his orders, the spectral workers would finally get back to work, starting to carve a simple, though effectively safe enough path for the carts to get down there with. Akando would peer over the edge of the hole, kneeling by its edge and looking at the three of them, but upon seeing they seemed to be fine would breathe a sigh of relief and turn back to standing guard. Leannah’s sword would cut through quickly decaying vines easily enough. Without the ‘heart’ it seemed as though the vines were quickly withering as the main body was. The golem itself, thankfully now seemed back to its inactive state. Dormant, sleeping. The interior of the cockpit wasn’t very comfortable, being cramped and she’d have to crouch to even get in. Not only that, there was a distinct lack of many controls. The walls of it were smooth, with only a few what seemed to be levers. More curiously was the obvious wires and tubing that were hanging limply on its interior, that seemed to have once connected to something…or perhaps someone. It still seemed functional, all things considered. Stepping out of the cockpit, she’d notice two things. One, a spear that had been lodged firmly in the giant's shoulder, the stony shell having been completely cracked and it seemed some blue colored fluid was now leaking out of it in a slow, steady rhythm in time with the pulsing blue light. She could probably attempt pulling it out if she wished, but it was probably broken or would be in the process of pulling it out. As she’d place a hand on its stony shell, Leannah would attempt to figure out what exactly this thing was. It was easy enough thanks to her previous practice with magic. Circulating through the apparent mechanical giant, much like a heartbeat. Thick veins and wires of some energy running through it, heavily magical in nature. All focused on a point on the giant's monolithic shoulders, two giant seeming tanks of whatever was flowing through this creature. [color=gold]“Well, it could have been far worse if this thing had managed to get moving,”[/color] Leannah said to Donovan as he’d approached where she and Eirhild were, casting a glance here and there over to the scottish-sounding man as she tried to study more of the inside of the cockpit of the golem, [color=gold]“Though you should have said something before trying that! I agree with Eirhild on this one. Plus I could have incinerated it faster from afar if you’d called me over! Seriously.”[/color] The curious felinid let out a small huff and a glare at Donovan for a moment after speaking, but then sighed and went back to her own studying of the golem itself. [color=gold]“Still, it seems this ‘golem’ was actually a magically-powered and mechanized thing piloted by someone. Based on the cramped nature of this I’d assume someone more dwarf sized, or some being made to fit in here to pilot it otherwise. At least based on my own limited knowledge so far.” “I’m trying to learn more before we try anything else with this, given a demonic plant was attaching itself to it of all things. “[/color] The Bastelian ran her fingers over the levers, not pulling them just feeling them, and would put a hand on each lever and do as she did before: channeling magic out to try to get a ‘grasp’ of it and trace back the levers and wires and tubes to their sources. Also to look them over, take in the details and see if she could make something more of it. What went to wherever else in the golem, what connected to which, the nature of things, etc, was the goal. Likewise seeing if she could grab onto any details or info about the stuff using her magic was something she wanted to try out. Maybe even take a teensy tinsy tiny bit of whatever was in those tanks and try to draw it back into herself to isolate within her body for examination? If that was possible. Was it possible without hurting herself though? There was only one way to find out! There were only three levers within the cockpit of the golem. And…well, they didn’t seem to connect to anything important. In fact, they didn’t react magically at all and there was nothing to trace with them. Hard to say what it connected too, but without being able to feel any magical trace within it meant it was completely mechanical in nature. The tubes, however - the moment she’d touch one, things would seem to just go slightly wrong. Her perspective would suddenly shift, as if she was suddenly looking up at the sky, the sinkhole above them. Any attempts at moving would be met with her limbs feeling impossibly heavy. She couldn’t breathe. Blink. Talk. Scream. Nothing. No movement. However, it would only last a handful of seconds before she’d find herself being ejected from this view, slamming back into her body with enough force to daze her, the Bastelian’s head swimming in a minor daze. Dononvan hooked his hammer back on his belt once more as he made his way over to the former guardian of the ancient ruin; narrowing his eyes as he’d carefully examine the ancient machine. [Color=lightgreen]"So yeh think et had ah pilot eh? Poor bastard… Who knows ow’ long e’ were that damned thing."[/color] The large man shook his head as he worked around the mech; carefully using his divine energies to scrub away any demonic taint remaining in the relic. [Color=lightgreen]"Whoever et were, aye hope they’re dead. Hell, aye’d wager they’d prefer et tah bein bound to ah demon."[/color] As he finished cleansing the ancient machine, Donovan’s eye caught the same cracked shoulder plate Leannah had spotted; a glowing blue stream trickling from the compromised shell in a thin line. Figuring the substance to be the golem’s battery fluid, Don moved to the top of the ancient machine, running his hands gently over its surface; hoping he might find some kind of maintenance release for the stone giant’s power supply. After eventually getting her senses back about her, and the daze fading, the Bastelian crawled slowly back out of the machine. She put a hand to her head, however, and sat on the ground rather than try to stand up immediately. She tried to stretch her arms and legs to remind herself she wasn’t so immobile as the golem was, nor was she that heavy. Yet the sensations, the very feedback she’d received, was like nothing else. It was a complex machine to be sure from just what little she’d been able to figure thus far on a surface level, but she thought she had the gist of it after this incident as well. The tubes were using magic to control the machine from its perspective, for lack of better words, and mechanical and magical components and parts were both part of that. If the situation had been different she might have admired it a bit longer and wanted to study the ancient thing, though as she looked up and saw Donovan looking for a way to get the golem open the catgirl sighed and did her best to get back up on her feet. [color=gold]“Probably far longer than you might think, Donovan. Delphiti made this place to perform experiments and learn things. But that can be explained more later. We have to get moving. For all we know someone is already waiting out there for us, ready to pounce.”[/color] With that, Leannah tried to go about helping the man find a way to get the golem open. She’d use mundane methods, as well as the use of her magic to try to trace things back to some point or another. For all she knew one of those levers in the golem was for opening its power source up, but she wasn’t going to just randomly pull on the levers either. Cleansing the machine was easier than he likely thought. With no source of demonic energy flowing into it, it was easy enough removing the infected parts. Looking for a release on the thing, though, was…well, as far as either of them could tell, there didn’t seem to be any way to release whatever was stored in the tanks. Leannah could sense where the stagnant fluid was flowing, but it was all in a closed system. It seemed like once it had been put in - it wasn’t meant to come out. However, two large tubes towards the back of the golem - rather inconveniently being the side it was laying on - seemed to be a solid mass of metal just under the surface of its thick, stony plating. An engine of some sort? It was the only thing they had to go on, and It seemed to be connected with the golem’s more mechanical parts at any rate. Donovan let out a low hum as he inspected what he surmised functioned as the golem’s ‘engine’ as best he could with his limited view. [Color=lightgreen]"Did th’ magic make tha mechanical bits not require aneh maintainin?"[/color] the man muttered to himself as he unslung his hammer once more; carefully inserting the pointed end in an accessible gap near to the engine– his arms straining as he tried to pry off the stone armor that hid the underlying components. There was at least a gap big enough to fit the butt of his hammer in…but prying the back of it off was another matter entirely. Stone was already pretty heavy, and whatever it was holding the stone onto the back of the golems’ torso seemed to be altogether not wanting to give way, either. Still, if he kept at it very slowly, ever so slowly, he’d start to feel the thing give way just a little. The stone behemoth’s stony shell would crack and groan, seeming to protest being split open and pulled apart. Until finally with a loud cracking of stone and blue colored sparks, did a large section of the back of the behemoth would come off and reveal at least, some of the inner workings. The ‘engine’ was at least tall as Donovna was, and twice as wide. It was shaped a bit like a triangle, made of some seemingly unknown clear, glassy material with a black obsidian colored sphere in the center of it and filled with a familiar blue liquid. The same that they had woken up in back inside those tubes. Two large pipes, coming from either of the shoulders flowed into it - though it was now dormant and not running, one seemed to be for input, the other for output taking the liquid into it and the back out. The interior of the engine seemed to be full of numerous gears, though how exactly it seemed to function would be completely unintelligible for Donovan. Numerous other tubes flowed into the creatures interior, some large and thick, the others small and delicate looking as though they’d tear at the slightest vibrations. Then this was likely this behemoth's heart and the tubes in its ‘circulatory’ system and this blue liquid its ‘blood’. Taking a few steps back, Donovan’s brow furrowed as he looked over the internal workings of the ancient machine. Gutting the contraption without breaking anything and losing the magic-imbued fluid was going to take quite a bit of time, and the only person with the proper tools for the job was Eirhild… And after getting the internals out of the stone giant, they’d still need to retrieve the doors from deeper within the prison. [Color=lightgreen]"Oi Eirhild, if yeh can– try tah get all them inner bits that’re glowin’ outta this thing without breakin’ anythin’. Aye’m gonna go prep tha next bit.”[/color] Don said, briefly turning his head to the dwarf as he’d make his way into what was left of the ancient prison, searching for the door he’d seen in his previous escapade through the ruins. “Eh? You want me to pull whatever this is out? I suppose I could try…” Eirhild responded with a manner of confusion as she’d take a look at the internals. “What even is this? That blue stuff looks almost like the stuff that comes from the Eye of Urumna back in Azurumnal…” She’d pull a few tools from her belt. “Well, I ain’t sayin no to a challenge. Alrighto then Donovan, I’ll get these hands to pullin that there thing out. You leave it to me.” The dwarvish woman would get to work, a careful and practiced hand looking at the things internals as Donovan would head off into the place to retrieve what he was looking for. Traversing the underground prison complex wasn’t as difficult as it could have been. A few plant-infested husks were wandering and milling about, but they were easily dispatched without too much trouble as long as he wasn’t surrounded. Heading up the stairs from the flower chamber, he’d arrive on a lower level of the prison - where the doors he were looking for were located. Thankfully they were still mostly just the same as he had left them. One still fastly shut. Another pried open, now dead roots clinging to the metallic structure. The symbol of serpent and star that was now a familiar sight to Donovan carved into it. An odd sense of…melancholy could be felt from somewhere, but otherwise, nothing would impede him as he’d set to work on his job. Don huffed a heavy sigh as he approached the ancient seal, laying his hand gently upon its rusted exterior. From within the heavy doors he could sense something similar to Suthainn’s divine power; barely an echo of what the relic once likely held. He pitied it, really. To see such a work of craftsmanship left unkempt to such a degree nearly brought a tear to Donovan’s eye. [Color=lightgreen]"Don’t yah worreh none– aye’ll take proper care ah yah.”[/color] With a gentle pulse of holy magic the roots entangling the doorway would be reduced to ash allowing Don access to the massive hinges of the heavy door; which he would promptly pry out of the wall. Recalling a small number of workers from the stairs into the ‘garden’, the old architect wouldn’t waste another moment letting such craftsmanship rot away in the dark, and hauled the set of doors out to the others. By the time he had freed the doors from their hinges, the workers had finished their task. Eirhild and Leannah would roll the carts over. The process of getting the doors down the stairs was somewhat tiring, but all it would require was a bit of help from Donovan’s workers and they’d be loaded up onto the carts and ready to go. They probably wouldn’t notice a little fox having stolen away back on one of the carts, hiding under one of the doors that was propped up on the side of the cart. Thankfully, there were no other dangers waiting to ambush them. [/hider] Misaki and Narkissa [hr] [@Click This][@PKMNB0Y][@Guy0fV4lor][@Crusader Lord] Sensing that those flanking them weren’t the immediate threat, most of the hunters had turned their attention to the slime, now that they had been made aware of Narkissa’s own ambush, they seemed to be more or less able to defend or deflect the potshots she was making at them. Instead they’d turn most of their attention to the slime creature that was currently assaulting them. “Trust me, I’m trying!” The girl would shout in response to Narkissa. She’d narrowly avoid getting grabbed by the slime, ducking and rolling across the ground as the slimy tendril would swing overhead, one of the hunters barely able to slice it off before it grabbed them. Soyala seemed to be having no difficulty surviving herself, but the other hunters didn’t seem to be fairing the same. The slime had already seemingly taken out quite a few of them. Still, with the initial panic wearing off they were making some form of comeback. Soyala’s eyes narrowed as the creature would lash out further. Being able to form as many tendrils wherever it wanted on its body, made it difficult not only to get close, but to even restrain the beast. One had to wonder how they had gotten it in the crate to start with. Still, a hunter would only see this prey as something to conquer. The huntress would avoid the tendrils, slicing through them as she’d weave her way towards the creature's body. They just had to get close enough to crack the slimes ‘brain’ a bit in order to subdue it. In this case…A tendril she hadn’t seen wrapped around her ankle, pulling the huntress right into the air. With a snarl, she’d lash out with her spear as she’d hover over the creatures body, and let herself fall. Her spear would be the first to hit the creature, impaling the human part of its gelatinous body on her spear. It screeched in pain, another set of tendrils grabbing Soyala and throwing her off of it not seconds later as the slime started to lose some of its cohesion. Soyala would roll across the ground, cut, bruised, but otherwise not seeming much worse for wear as she’d get to her feet. And this, would be the scene Donovan, Leannah, and Eirhild would find themselves coming back too. A ripple of magic in the air felt by most of the magically attuned present, as there was a small flash of light from the obelisk, just barely visible as the group would find themselves standing at a precipice near the cliff edge. “Stones, what’s goin on here!” Eirhild would shout, reigning in one of the beasts before it simply barreled on through carrying the cart with it. The dwarf would immediately draw her hand to her sword, intending on getting herself involved if she had too. Lazhira would take the momentary lapse in the slimes senses and the distraction made by Donovan and crew to quickly flee the scene. "Guh, that was terrifying." Lazhira would say, panting and making an attempt to catch her breath.