[center][h1][color=00aeef]Link[/color][/h1][/center]

[center]Word Count: 901 [/center]

[center][color=00aeef][b] Level 8[/b] [/color] - (15/80) + 4[/center]

[center]Location: Carcass Island ~ Where All Things Must Come[/center]
[@DracoLunaris]
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The bombs arrows flew and blew, along with everyone else's contribution to the barrage that assailed the Guardian's eye. Link just wished they came in more than packs of five before switching to the rod. Ace put the exclamation point on the combined assault by blasting the creature with something unstable that shot out of a barrel, an attack that finally prompted the creature to close that gargantuan eye before reopening somewhere out of range of most of their attacks. 

On top of that, his platform started sinking as the beach reorganized itself once again. Link set out from his own perch, using Cryonis to grow a pillar of ice out of the tar that also began sinking. Jumping off the boat and scurrying up the side, he took a running leap off the ice and unfurled his sailcloth. It wouldn't carry him far, but it was faster than wading through the muck even with his water skates. Before he began to drift downward he swapped to the slate in midair and used cryonis to make himself another stepping stone. He could see the direction Ms. Fortune was so earnestly headed and, taking a moment to catch his breath and let Cryonis recharge, jumped again. He leaped from ice island to ice island like this until he found some more solid ground, what looked like the waterlogged steeple of some cyclopean temple. The large stones of the stonework made climbing an easy task, and as he reached the top he could see the cliff wall close by.

The creature, though, reared back for another attack. One that took hold of the behatted kid and would have reduced her to a dust stain on the side of the cliff face if not for Ms. Fortunes own intervention. The rest of the hands swept across the beach toward him, a balled up fist streaming toward him. He set his stance of the steeple roof, Lynel shield held out, and as the hand came in he lashed out at it and sent the fist that had come for him spinning away with enough disorienting force that it flopped into the beach tar. There was some satisfaction in that, but more in turning his bow and pumping a few more arrows into the creatures shoulder eye from his new vantage point. 

He didn't think his simple arrows were what ultimately took the creature down, but he swelled with pride as he watched it fall over and shatter anyway. It's life had been short, violent, and full of grief and rage. At this point, though, Link was beyond caring for it. It was dead, finally. It was never coming back. The wave of darkness that swept across them, wiping away the distortions of the beach, assured them of that.

He collapsed onto his rear in the cool sand as the adrenaline finally began leaving his body. For the first time since perhaps they had entered the Maw he felt himself truly relax, allowing the exhaustion in his muscles and the wholly natural hunger that threatened to bore a hole in his stomach crawl to the forefront of his mind. While he rested, there were still things to do. Geralt strode out into the field of odd golden crystals an took the Guardian's spirit into himself. The change wasn't drastic, and none of the creatures vengeful violent nature had seeped into the Witcher's psyche. As this played out Blazermate got to work healing up the Kid's injuries and the others started brainstorming how to get off this cursed isle. Geralt's first suggestion was The Atomos, but Link pulled himself to his feet and shook his head at that idea. "I wouldn't try taking off from this beach." He spoke up, plodding over and looking around. "Who knows where you would end up."

Blazermate and an impatient Junior had the better idea of teleporting out of here, both having set up their contingencies beforehand, but in contrast to Geralt's and Juior's eagerness to leave Blazermate and Rika pointed out the business that they still had on the island. "Hold on, Kamek, I'll come with you. I was planning to search The Maw for survivors anyway. Just give me a minute, I'm going to comb the beach." Grief hardened his face for a moment. "I can't just leave Delsin here." 

The mote of rainbow light that represented the mans spirit wasn't hard to find against the drabness of the Beach. He reached down and cupped it in his hand. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." He said to it, unsure what to do. Delsin had an impressive ability, one that would help immensely in the battles to come, but just taking a comrade as some sort of prize felt dirty right now. He would hold onto it for now, bringing the spirit back to the group and showing it to see if anyone wanted to take up the mans mantle. If no one else wanted to, he would resign himself to carrying Delsin on in his heart, literally.

He also found his sword, buried halfway in the sand. That was good. He didn't want to use Glenn's bequeathment unless he had to, for fear of shattering the sword his friend had fought so hard to find. Satisfied, ready to push on despite the fatigue, he returned to Kamek. "All right, I'm ready. Hopefully they're too disoriented to be hostile."