[GM Post]

[b][color=#778da9]"There's no need to be uncouth now, is there?"[/color][/b] Asevor scoffed dismissively at the bear, his attention diminishing as other, more pressing matters presented themselves. That one's... not bad, for a hedge mage, but nowhere near enough for a mage of his caliber to take on seriously.

Next, the elf. A smidgen more polite, this one, in the gruff soldiery-type ways. Brimming with magic too, shame that she took the martial path. Well, no matter. It's only proper to reply, for communication was the sign of civilized men. Even if they're still going to try kill each other the very next moment.

[b][color=#778da9]"Unfortunately my honor cannot allow me to comply with that, eternal one. So let's do our best and see who comes on top, shall we?"[/color][/b] Grey eyes flickered toward the latest addition, the disdain almost palpable as eye contacts was established with the original Kaito. The free hand extended, dismissively flicking in the fox's direction akin to shooing a persistent fly. [b][color=#778da9]"I dislike interruptions."[/color][/b]

A plain grey ring lit, forming a relatively simple tesselated pattern that erupted with pure force - throwing Kaito back, the sensation akin to getting punched by air turned solid.

On the other side, Ragnar met the thrown Tempest with a wild bellow of laughter even as the battleaxe bit deep into a muscled arm. Little droplets of blood sprayed from the impact, way too little for a wound that went deep enough to reach bone. The two bruisers clashed there, the man steadily overpowering the undead, hint of crimson slowly tinting the air around him.

[b][color=#778da9]"Must I do everything around here?"[/color][/b]

A leatherbound book floated out of an inner pocket, hovering in front of Asevor as the pages flipped rapidly. The arrow was shot, yet as it neared the trajectory swerved wildly before impacting the floor a few feet in front of the elderly mage. Another arrow from the vampiress fell to the same fate, clattering powerlessly onto the stone floor. Unconcerned by the projectiles, he traced multiple times to form a glowing tesseract that shot and merged into Ragnar's being.

[b][color=#778da9]"Gaster's Mandate of Impetuous Strife should fit someone like you, now do your job. And try not to maul the baron in the process, he still have his uses."[/color][/b]

He didn't even finished the sentence when the balance broke, the northlander momentarily blurred before punching Bartholomew hard enough to dent his chest plate. Yvonne's attempted to attack the brute while he's busy, but her strike went astray and missed the heart from the sudden burst of speed. A backhand caught her before she fully retreated, the woman bounced twice over before managing to kill the momentum.

[b][color=ed1c24]"I feel POWERFUL! Where have you been all my life, old man? Gahahahahaha!"[/color][/b] Pearls of blood floated in the gash of Ragnar's arm, slowly pulling itself together until only a jagged red line was visible. Shin broken inward, an arrow in his neck, and a sword sticking into his back and out of the front, he's completely unfazed as he stomped forward to pummel the Tempest some more.

To Cedar's newfound detection, the two figures glowed brightly with magic albeit at different form. The brute of a man was a self-contained cycle of vigorous energy, the sheer amount of mana coursing through him only a fraction weaker than the old man beside. It pulsed alongside the heartbeat, the injured spots slightly brighter than the rest as the magic slowly leaked out of those pinpoint locations. The buff from the old mage ran like electric current within Ragnar's stream of energy, a simple yet effective method to boost his already heightened physical capabilities.

Meanwhile, Asevor was like a deep well that kept his magic inward, only a few tendrils connected to the various bright stars of enchanted objects that he wore - a ring on each finger, three different necklaces, the book, and finally the cane being the brightest of the lot. Another tendril temporarily snaked out of his fingers as he traced the tesseract before the pool stilled again, the old man in near-perfect control of his magical side.