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Ettamri, Oscar, Siwon, Katya
“Yeah, I did say that!” Katya crossed her arms and turned her head away from the steaming butt-skewers. “And we only had, like, two meals during the trip anyways, so that’s basically not even competition.” It looked as if she was adamant on winning this conversation. Before she could become a weakling like all those other butt-eaters, the small priest stood up and stomped over to the packs, rummaging for some deliciously dry hardtack to accompany her boiled snow with. With that meal in hand, she stomped back and started eating with ferocious gusto. Who cared how good the meat smelled? All meat smelled good, but not all meat was poop. Crunching the (painfully) crusty bread, Katya looked towards Oscar again, then towards Ettamri.

“Why even volunteer anyways? Not like there’s anything you can handle that Ettamri can’t.” Yes, that was the angle. “Go with the others. It’s a girl’s night out at the campfire now.”

Meanwhile, divorced from this masterful display of debate, Siwon’s religious ritual bore its fruit after a quiet minute of meditation and contemplation. Slowly, the crimson lines etched into the snow began to burn, an obsidian flame searing the mark deeper into the ground. Beside him, that yellow demon of his convulsed, its spindly limbs spasming as its potbelly inflated like a balloon. There was no longer any light in its eyes, just the fire of a predator-god’s gaze. The demon’s stomach burst open, a maw of razor-sharp fangs stretching out and collapsing upon the ritual circle. A crick, a crunch, and the task was done. Nothing remained of Siwon’s ceremony but the marks of the curved fangs against the snow.

The demon, its form and personality restored, let out an obnoxious burp. “Kekeke, good-quality meat for once, Wonsi~ Maybe you should change from Wolf to Vulture, picking up what scraps that warrior leaves behind, hmm?”

Argen, Renauld, Muu, Tithemal
As Argen and Renauld strode further up the hill, they too were wrapped in the warm, humid steam that emanated from the springs. Tithemal’s form could be seen cutting a powerful silhouette through the mist, and discretion got the better of the two: for all the mercy shown by the Dragon’s Dervish, it still wasn’t a comfortable proposition for them to bathe right beside the orc. They stripped by the weeping rocks instead, fabrics peeled off the skin for the first time in a long while. A bitter wind sliced through the springs, causing goosebumps to shoot up their arms, but any chill was soon alleviated; the bros eased themselves into the hot tub, and were immediately warmed. It was good fortune that Renauld, despite being a bookworm mage, still kept himself in relatively good shape. There was no body envy between the two: Argen was a beefy warrior with well-defined biceps and pecs, Renauld had a well-proportioned physique and abs that stood out due to a low body-fat percentage. Like that, they lounged. It was doubtful that any wild animal would attack them here. Tithemal’s deadly aura would thwart all but the most mad beasts.

Eventually, their gaze was drawn towards their other party member, Muu. Neck-deep in the waters, the Blade Dancer’s eyes were blissfully closed, enjoying the warmth that seeped from beneath the mountain. The heat of the springs had drawn color out of her pale complexion, a rosy red blooming on her cheeks. Even with the waters shrouding some of her form, it was still evident to both men that the raven-haired girl was incredibly enticing. Rest had removed the deathly gaze she usually held, while in the absence of heavy fabrics and hard leather, her graceful build showed off just how exotic and slender she was. Romance between party members usually didn’t end up well, but damn, was Muu objectively hot.



Well, up to the point where the two of them realized that, far from just enjoying the springs, Muu had simply fainted. Then it was just an ‘oh shit do we do something’ moment, while Tithemal, on his side of the springs, chewed on something bloody, his lower canines jutting out in amusement.
Now let's set up a betting pool for who'll be the top eight.
Just means you benefit more when we get started on the training arc.
@Kinith@Heyitsjiwon
"Or maybe you're just fighting something thrice your level?" Vasilisa leaned in, stroking the stubble on his chin. Honestly, for all its creepy viscosity, the blue slime was rather cute. It reminded him of those emoji blobs, just an unintrusive oval of cuteness, bouncing around and all. Didn't look like they'd hurt all that much, really. But alas, violent murder was one of the reasons he had wanted to try out Thalam to begin with, and with a wide, swinging gait, the Cleric strode right up towards the poor thing they were ganging up on. Hefting his cudgel onto his shoulder, he struck first like a golfer, a dipping blow that slammed right in the middle of the creature. There was surprisingly little feedback; it felt like hitting, well, a ball of slime. Almost disappointing, really. The momentum of the swing carried the club back up, before Vasilisa brought it down again, this time with just a vertical chop. The impact the cudgel made against the ground though, now that was satisfying. It brought shivers up his wrists, and a weird smile cut into Vasilisa's ruggedly handsome features.

In society, he always had to hold back, to consider actions, to not punch a hoe when he wanted to punch a hoe. There were small methods to alleviate that boiling rage, sure, from stomping away or slamming a door shut...but no, physical violence definitely felt better.

Who cared about Smite at this point? Vasilisa was going to fuck this little blue shit up! Like a sixteen year old girl with too much emotional baggage and daddy issues to address in a healthy manner, he raised and swung the cudgel down a third time, blue slime splattering as 15 damage total was dealt to the little creature. Then, he had a thought.

"Huh, so will we be killing 15 of these things altogether then?"
Vasilisa breathed in.

Vasilisa breathed out.

He watched his chest rise with each, marvelling at the differences. Even at maximum chest mass, the hulking hunk of a man could still see his toes, which was certainly more than what the maximum settings on the breast slider offered. More importantly though, the sheer girth of his arms and legs were hella impressive. He marvelled at their appearance, twisting his limbs to see the muscle fibers flex and contort, veins occasionally bulging. It was hard, bouncy even. If someone threw a dime at him, it could probably bounce right back and knock them out. He let out a low whistle, splaying his fingers out to inspect his rough, thick hands. It was one thing to sculpt this Greek God of a man in character creation, but quite another to experience it. Was it just his imagination, or was his core more stable than usual as well? The Northern Man went for splits, but stopped partway through, surprise on his expression as he realized that his glutes were much more inflexible than they were in real life. Fascinating! And to feel that weird bulge on his neck, the Adam's apple, was similarly disorientating. He cycled through vocal exercises next, feeling the depth of his vocal cords, the weight of his diaphragm, and was similarly pleased. There was, overall, a sensation of inflexibility and brutishness with his movements; it was harder to move slowly and deliberately, but much easier to make explosive movements.

Fun stuff, really. After taking proper stock of his new body, Vasilisa re-equipped his clothing, smiled at a couple of the disturbed/aroused/curious onlookers, and turned his attention, for the first time, on the world around him. And oh, how pristine it was! Outside of the mass of psychopathic slime-murderers clogging off part of the town, there was no doubt that Bellview was a charming location. Blue skies, blue ocean, and a sea of greenery, stretching out into the horizon. It stirred at Vasilisa's romanticism, and soon, he hefted his cudgel over his shoulder, really to storm off to...where? North, probably. Though the murderous 'new player' mob was a demerit, it also sorta felt like this was where Vasilisa belonged? He certainly didn't play enough vidya to know anything else, and if those fields were good enough for everyone else, they were good enough for him.

And hey, added bonus! There was no way he was going to get mobbed by slimes and die if there were hundreds of other players stomping the local population to bits!


"Sounds like you've seen too many bad parties then," Cecilia smirked, her hands resting on the back of her head. "But hey, no point in applying that sorta strategy without that tank girl, right?" The Lancer made a big show of looking around, before shrugging. "...who doesn't seem to be coming, so I guess that's a wash." They had spent enough of the morning dilly-dallying around, at any rate. Kicking her spear up onto her shoulder, Cecilia strode off, resolved to be the only frontliner in the party.

Though Willow decided the direction, Cecilia stood at the vanguard, nimbly crossing over gradually thickening vegetation. It really was a jungle, wasn't it? She turned her nose up at the flies that buzzed around, dodging under veils of vines and skirting around suspicious, stagnant puddles. The air was unpleasantly humid, but her jungle wear seemed adapt for these circumstances, at least. Sweat that built up underneath her clothing was quickly whisked away, while the leather that constituted the exterior of the set of clothing protected her from the moist atmosphere. Her ponytail swung from side to side as Cecilia turned around, scanning her surroundings. But no ambush burst from the undergrowth, only a couple of adorable little dinosaurs with big brows and bigger frills. The creatures didn't look all that aggressive...but goblin babies didn't look aggressive either, till you turned around and they bashed your head in with a rock.

Cecilia was gonna kill these little twerps. Wait, no, she'll half-kill it and then let River do the actual killing so he can crawl into their skin and become them. Excellent.

Giving a backwards glance towards the rest of her party, the Lancer nodded once, before shooting off towards the pair of reptiles. The distance was crossed in an instant, a black shadow landing between the two monsters. As they turned towards her, Cecilia grinned, felt her mana flow through her virtual veins, and became incandescent.

"Radiate!"

A star burst beneath the folds of the Light's Bane Cloak, white resplendence chasing away all shadow. In the afterimage of the corona, Cecilia's Mythic-Rank Steel Spear swung out, arcing into a crescent Cleave, then another, followed up by a quick thrust into each of the beasts. Her steps sped up now, and she shifted to the left now, legs torquing before she fired off a Piercing Lift right into the chest of the small beast. It was light, thankfully, and the Lancer hefted it up skyhigh, twisting her spearhead into its ribcage. The monster squealed and spat, but she winked at it in response, her arms flexing as she knocked it up into the air with a Strong Arm Push. It flew towards a bundle of vines hanging from the trees, and hopefully, that was where it would stay.

Sensing the vengeance of the one she turned away from, Cecilia pivoted off her right foot in a quick Sidestep, her spear swinging horizontally to catch the remaining Chitter's flank. Her eyes flickered to her surroundings, noting where the trees were, and she adjusted a couple of steps to her left, shifting her grip on her weapon. Before the Chitter could entertain thoughts of running away, Cecilia snagged its shoulder with her spear, pulled it in, and simultaneously charged in. The rim of her buckler caught its snout, and then the rest of her body followed, slamming into its body and pinning it against a tree.

It wasn't a Devastating Charge, but that move could be saved next.
And there, completed. At least until I start changing the backstory on whatever whim I have.


Will you be putting up more Lore stuff before Friday, @Tomaru? Specifically about what sort of town we're living in?
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