MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The End

Lvl 5 (29/50) -> Lvl 5 (31/50)

Word Count: 303 words- OVERDRIVE

Geralt came out of hiding just in time to see the Ender Dragon flying at the party, a powerful surge of wind propagating from it. Sighing at his luck, he turned right back around, hiding behind the tower he had just left, waiting until he heard the sound of the wind fading. His experiences with things that moved that fast told him that once you heard the threat and could recognize it, it was gone. Hoping that the pattern held true, Geralt stepped out once more, just in time to watch the dragon launch Tora and Poppi from its back as it turned on an oren.

Rushing forwards as the dragon hovered over the ground and moved towards Bowser, who was absolutely crushed by the thing's massive claws, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. "Dammit!" Geralt yelled as he forced himself to move even faster, reaching the fight by the time the dust had settled and he could see that Bowser was actually fine.

He vaguely remembered Blazermate being capable of doing something like that when everybody had discussed their abilities and equipment with one another. "Good catch!" He called back to the medabot.

Now that he was in range, Geralt moved around to the side of the hovering dragon, silver flashing out and biting into the beast's scaled flesh. He didn't stop to see the effect his attacks had, instead focusing more on following the movements of his enemy so as not to be launched by a kick he didn't see coming because he was too focused on doing a bit more damage. Too many Witchers died for fool mistakes like that, and he didn't fancy going down that road again. Even with those...cat things...the Cadet had to rescue them in a pinch, Geralt wanted to avoid dying any more.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The End

Lvl 5 (25/50) -> Lvl 5 (29/50)

Word Count: 759 words- OVERDRIVE

Geralt, frankly, wasn't all that surprised that his attacks had little noticeable effect on the dragon. It was a damned dragon, after all. He watched the creature fly up, undaunted by the blows struck against it. Tora, Poppi, and the Cadet had managed to grab onto it as well, which would either go well for the group, or terribly. Geralt figured it would likely be the latter, and set about trying to find something he could do other than ineffectively fire at it with his blaster.

Looking around, he noticed there were quite a few towers made of that strange, black substance. Even when a few of his allies' attacks hit them, they seemed to take no damage whatsoever. He could also barely make out a crystal atop the ones he could see the tops of. They might be valuable, or they might be catalysts for some kind of magic, he wasn't sure. Either way, he might be able to use the towers as a vantage point to get a better shot at the dragon from.

It was around that point that the dragon came around for its next attack, spewing a vicious acid all over the ground, causing the Witcher to roll out of the way of a pool that threatened to dissolve him. Careful to make sure he didn't get himself killed, Geralt moved a bit more around to see if he could get a good sight line on the top of one of the towers to try and...teleport to it. He hated the notion, but it was necessary. One didn't fight a dragon without pulling out all the stops. Come to think of it, he had his draconid oil as well! He couldn't guarantee this otherworldly dragon would still be affected by it, but it couldn't hurt either.

It was about that time that Geralt saw the crystal atop one tower, and Quiet, explode into nothingness. He cringed for a moment before realizing that meant something. A regular crystal didn't just up and detonate like that, meaning it was likely a catalyst or a piece of some kind of spell or other magic. And based on the fact that a beam of energy shot out at the dragon and didn't kill it?

Well, Geralt didn't know what that beam actually did. It could be protecting it, giving it energy, healing its wounds, it could even be hurting it in some way they didn't understand. But if there was one thing that Geralt knew, it was that unknown magic was bad news. And if those crystals could be destroyed, well...who better to do it than the guy who could....UGH....teleport?

He was never going to get used to that. Damn those monsters and their usefulness.

"Keep it distracted, and don't fucking look at me!" The Witcher shouted, turning to the best spot he could find and quickly teleporting to the top of the tower. Pulling out a dimeritium bomb, Geralt smirked. A double wammy, an explosion and a magic dampener. Whatever these crystals did, this bomb would end it for sure. Gently placing the bomb, Geralt channeled the sign of Igni at its lowest possible power, a spark barely forming and lighting the wick.

Not giving it much extra though, Geralt turned and warped to a spot on the floor as far away from the dragon, far away from his allies, and far away from the tower as he could get.

The other creatures were everywhere. Surrounding him. All...averting their eyes. Sure, they looked at him, but not at him. The difference was subtle, but noticeable. He felt...peaceful. "This...huh. Not that bad." He mused, before enacting the next part of his plan. Moving to take cover behind one of the other towers, Geralt pulled out his draconid oil and the cloth he used to oil his blade, before drawing his silver sword. This would have to be quick, and with his new proportions Geralt found himself somewhat clumsier when it came to the finer points of where his equipment was. It seemed that some of the pockets and pouches on his person had shifted somewhat when his body did. It wasn't overly burdensome now, but in more fevered combat it could hurt him.

Still, he went about it as quickly as he could while still reasonably making sure his blade was sufficiently coated in the oil. "Alright. Here we go..." Geralt mumbled as he moved back towards the others, trying to find a tower with no crystal that he might be able to attack from.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The End

Lvl 5 (21/50) -> Lvl 5 (25/50)

Word Count: 642 words- OVERDRIVE

Geralt smirked as his plan worked, sort of. Between the Courier's ballistic interference and Tora stealing the kid's glory, the Enderman went down as silver cut through its body and it dissolved into ash, leaving its spirit behind. Princess Peach gathered the spirits of the deceased monsters up and offered them to anybody who wasn't able to cross the islands on their own. Geralt saw the opportunity for what it was: the ultimate insult from the Universe. Of course the first real offer of power would involve teleporting. The Witcher was pulled out of his thoughts by a chicken floating at him, tossed by Linkle. Looking at the bird, Geralt frowned before putting it on the ground and shooing it back to its caretaker.

He just sighed and hoped that the feeling of teleporting would be less disorienting than traversing space through a portal. "I'll take one." He gruffly called, watching as Linkle began her own transformation. It was...somewhat disturbing, but the results were also interesting. She was much larger now, at least vertically speaking. Her arms were longer, and if anything, she was actually more slender than she'd been previously. She grew claws on her hands, and her hair's color changed, as well as that of her eyes.

Shaking it off, Geralt took a spirit for himself, and pushed it into his own heart once he'd cleared some space. Much like Linkle, the transformation was near-instant.

Geralt acquired

Enderman

Geralt has become half again as tall, with much longer arms and legs, and is overall much more slender. His eyes are bright purple, his mouth can open far wider than usual, and his white hair is now black. Confers the Power Warp, which allows him to teleport to any spot she can see inside of the range of a thrown stone. Doing so does not damage him, but there's a short period of disorientation that makes quick repeated warps risky. Also confers the Power One of Us, which makes Endermen consider him an ally and allows him to communicate with them. Confers the Weakness Eye Shy, which triggers his fight-or-flight response when an intelligent life-form looks at him. Also confers the Weakness Hydroanathematic, which causes him to take damage from external water exposure

Looking around, and down, at his companions after the tranformation, Geralt realized something: his heart was about to explode. He was being looked at, he was sure of it. Somebody was staring at him, mocking him. And it...scared him? No, it pissed him off. His hands clenched, and he forced his eyes shut with a growl. A deep breath later, he opened his eyes, making sure to look above everybody else. He was much, much taller now. About nine feet tall, in fact, which made not looking other people in the eyes much more simple. As long as he couldn't see them looking at him, it wasn't that bad, surely?

No, it was still pretty bad. He had that hair-raising feeling he got whenever he was in a monster's den and didn't know where it was, but was distinctly aware that the creature was very aware of his location. It made his skin crawl a bit. He felt a little unsafe. Sure, he was pretty used to the feeling, but it didn't make his desire to be out of the situation any weaker, just a bit easier to deal with.

Shaking off the worst of the strain, Geralt looked over at one of the other islands between their starting point and the larger floating landmass, still wondering how the hell that worked. Not worrying too much about it, he tried to focus, tried to tap into the creature's power, and then he felt something shift, and he was there. His stomach clenched for a moment before relaxing as the Witcher calmed now that nobody was looking at him.

"Hmm, not quite as bad as using a portal. Still, probably best not to abuse it." Turning to the larger landmass, Geralt willed himself over, taking a deep breath and a firm stance when he arrived again, this time a bit more off-kilter.

The others gathering, Geralt began moving towards them when the dragon took its perch atop one of the many pillars on the island. Geralt cursed and reached for his hand crossbow, before thinking better of it and grabbing his pistol, firing a few shots and hoping that the ammunition it had would last him long enough to kill a dragon.

So much for the Code, he thought snarkily. This wouldn't be the first time he broke the code for his friends.

Huh...friends? For some reason, that felt right. Damn.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Spiral Mountain, Land of Adventure

Lvl 5 (19/50) -> Lvl 5 (21/50)

Word Count: 834 words

Taking quick stock of the goodies his Spirit-crushing had gotten him (and that was only slightly sarcastic, mind you), Geralt gathered round for another of Peach's Speeches. Dammit, Dandelion, now you have me rhyming! Her speaking was succinct, but purposeful. They didn't have to do this. But they did. Because that's what heroes did. Geralt, personally, was no hero, but he'd take the praise. At least she wasn't like the sycophants in Lumbridge, praising his every step and practically worshiping the Witcher. That had been strange, and he was almost starting to prefer the open contempt Continent regulars had for his kind.

The party slowly crossed the bridge, coming along into a tunnel built into the earth. It was...strange. The tunnel was very clearly built with a different design from the structures that they'd just left, and while it was little surprise in this strange world born from the remains of other worlds, it still stood out to him. Whether that was because he'd picked up some appreciation for stonework from Zoltan or the sheer wrongness of it all, he couldn't be sure.

Eventually, they reached their target: the strange, disturbing wall of darkness. Slowly, the group began moving into the wall that stood before them, careful at first, testing it, but more quickly when they were sure it wouldn't instantly kill them all. Satisfied that entering would be safe, Geralt followed after some of the others.

The transition was much like going through a portal, and Geralt took a careful stance, trying not to lose his stomach to the feeling that spatial displacement always gave him. "Urrgh..." He groaned, forcefully closing his eyes before blinking a few times at the lack of light piercing into them through his eyelids.

And when he opened his eyes, he realized why. They were in a world of darkness. Not just night, true darkness. Not a star in sight. Only strange, purple...something. He couldn't describe it. There were splotches of some kind of strange, dark purple substance swirled in the sky before them.

This whole place was wrong. From the strange, porous ground beneath them, floating in the damned sky, to the other, larger floating island covered in strange black creatures made of rectangles, to the endless, almost disturbing backdrop of the eldritch sky. It was like when they fought that crystalline monster, but...not quite the same. There was a difference, and it was important, but the difference was difficult to properly describe.

And then there was his medallion. It was vibrating. Here. In this dark, disturbing world. Oh, sure, it made sense. Portals, floating islands, creepy monster-things. But of course to add onto everything, this place was magical weird. Not normal weird, noooo, had to be magic.

Damn that Galeem, he could have been home hunting Drowners or something like that, not traipsing through magical darkness worlds with a bunch of do-gooders and their weird giant turtle monster boss. At least he was still getting something out of this.

After a short period of everybody getting their bearings and looking around, Tora, the strange metal golem creature, found himself being attacked by the strange black rectangular creature. That had teleported directly in front of him to attack. Yes, that was what they needed. Teleporting monsters. Because things weren't crazy enough.

Jumping into action, Geralt pulled his silver sword from his back and took a combat stance, only to witness two others being attacked. The Cadet and Sectonia, that uppity bee...thing. Deciding that Bowser was more than enough annoying monster-person to deal with, he rushed towards the Cadet, activating Quen to protect himself from any attacks, and taking a swipe at the creature.

Of course, it teleported out of the way again, but when it returned, Geralt gave a ferocious grin and stabbed at it with all his might, silver piercing into the murky black body of the thing before him. It screeched, teleporting away once more and staring at the two of them from afar, anger apparent in its face. How he could tell, Geralt wasn't sure, but it was there. "Damn, these things don't play fair." He grumbled. Of course monsters wouldn't play fair, but was it so much to ask for more of those weird fish-people? They were so straightforward to kill, not unlike Drowners.

Mentally shaking his head, Geralt drew his pistol and fired, missing his target and instead blasting the stone near it, causing the creature to teleport slightly to the side. Narrowing his eyes, Geralt frowned. "And now it's not coming back. Whoreson..." He grumbled again. "When it comes back, go for the legs. I'll go high." Geralt strategized with Ace Cadet. "That way we won't hit each other's swords." The sound of steel on steel (or silver, in this case) was damn annoying, and while any damage to his ear drums was never permanent, he'd still have a bit of ringing for a minute if he ever caught himself in a full-force clash of blades.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Spiral Mountain, Land of Adventure

Lvl 5 (8/50) -> Lvl 5 (19/50)

Word Count: 546 words

When Geralt came out from behind the ice barrier, he was met with a mixed bag of a surprise. The last of the snipers were dead. That was good because he avoided being turned into a trophy. That was bad because it demonstrated, yet again, the clear gap in power between himself and his allies. Sure, he made it to the tower. Sure, he was able to help wear Link down. Sure, he could have even take one or two them out had he been given the chance.

But that was the thing; he hadn't been given the chance. Even with Link, that kid had a treasure trove of amazing abilities up his sleeve to keep himself alive and put down his enemies. He wouldn't have stood a chance solo. Maybe in a straight swordfight, but that was still up in the air. Kid really had it in him.

Still, wasn't worth getting worked up over. There'd be plenty of opportunities to get more power. Speaking of which, the Witcher fished inside his bag for the spirit he'd grabbed from that giant fish-monster. Frowning, he looked harder, only to recall something he'd been taught: Spirits vanished after a while. Cursing to himself, Geralt continued fishing through his bag. He found those weird sticker things, and sighed. He didn't have the luxury of messing around anymore. He needed to make sure he could handle whatever was thrown at them next. Grabbing the stickers, he slapped the sword one on his sword, and the regular one on his arm, affixing it carefully to his armor. The effect was barely noticeable, no more than a feeling that he was a little better at what he did. He felt that he could fight a little more effectively. It would have to do.

He also remembered the helmet. It couldn't hurt much, could it? He was fit enough that the weight would barely be noticeable, especially on top of how much he already had on him. Plus, it didn't seem like it would impact his ability to look around much. Still, his combat style revolved around being as maneuverable as possible, and the giant crest on the top of it would definitely mess with his movements here and there. And he wouldn't risk just breaking it off here and now, not with the risk of damaging the helmet. Maybe he'd ask the others if they wanted it.

That left the few remaining Spirits he still had, from the fight last night. The weird...mutated people. Wielding his favorite weapons: farming implements.

Linkle had also helpfully reminded him, and maybe some of the others, about how to use the Spirits, in explaining things to Link. He certainly wasn't going to put these things inside him. Monster decoctions were one thing, carefully distilled essences they were, but an entire mutated person? No. Not happening.

So he crushed them in his hand. It was better than letting them disappear. He could sell their gear if he didn't need it, or give it to one of their allies.

And now, it was nearly time to go. Everybody was preparing for the next stage of this wonderful adventure. A small part of him was almost starting to enjoy this, too. Ugh. Typical.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

No-Man's Land, Land of Adventure-> Spiral Mountain, Land of Adventure

Lvl 5 (1/50) -> Lvl 5 (2/50)

Word Count: 283 words

Geralt and his undead horde of cover slowly continued up the mountain, the Witcher paying little heed to the kid he'd left behind. Bowser Junior could look after himself. While the others enacted big plans, leaving behind walls of ice and fields of mist in their wakes, Geralt thought smaller. More discreet. It was the better part of valor, after all. So he refrained from any rash actions like breaking away from the group to attack, or anything silly like that.

Until the explosion, that is. That threw everything out the window. It was massive, leaving a tremendous cloud of smoke above them. No sooner than the proverbial dust had started to settle, Geralt broke out of his cover in a dead sprint, his heart pumping methodically and powerfully. His superior physiology had him reaching the top of the short mountain in no time, and as he reached the plateau summit, the Witcher's hand reached behind his back and drew his steel sword, ready to face the enemy. Instead, he found some of the others making their way into and up the tower, trying to similarly infiltrate the enemy's position. "Alright, then, let's finish whatever the others managed to leave behind." He snarked, rushing into the tower.

The inside was...bare, to put it simply. Even with a hole in the side from the two metal golems and debris scattered around the floor. There were candles lighting the place, sure, but not much else. A little ways from the entrance was a wooden platform, as well as the others, gathering at the platform. Looks like he made it.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

No-Man's Land, Land of Adventure-> Spiral Mountain, Land of Adventure

Lvl 5 (0/50) -> Lvl 5 (1/50)

Word Count: 321 words

@DracoLunaris

New Power Gained- Axii!

A simple but effective sign, Axii assails the foe's mind and bends them to the user's will. In combat, the sign serves one of two purposes: stunning an opponent, or, when focused on more actively, controlling an opponent in combat. Stunning an enemy is as simple as making the sign, and the attack will overwhelm the enemy's mind and leave them too disoriented to coordinate themselves for a period of about seven seconds.

Overriding an enemy's mind and controlling them is a much more difficult task. Typically impossible on more mentally resilient enemies (usually boss or mini-boss level), Axii nonetheless can wreak havoc on a group of foes if they're not expecting to have to fight one of their own. It also serves a second purpose of taking the heat off Geralt if he's surrounded. Oddly enough, many enemies seem to be even deadlier when being puppeted by the sign. Whether the effect of a removal of some inhibition, or even breaking the biological inhibitors that adrenaline deactivates (in humans, at least) is unknown. It's simply...known, that enemies controlled by Axii are deadlier than they would otherwise be.

Outside of combat, Axii must be maintained much more actively to produce anything more than a simple command. However, Geralt can use the sign to give complex orders to an individual. Of course, if others see him doing this to their friend, it tends to go over poorly.

A few peasants may have lost their teeth or their lives trying to fight Geralt when he foolishly used this sign with others witness to what he was doing. Others...wisely ran in the opposite direction.

Shuffling along in the horde of undead, Geralt was honestly surprised to see how well the rushed plan was working. Although, he did have his compatriots to thank for that, as they were providing a wonderful horde of distractions. And even if they saw him, the man hardly would have seemed dangerous compared to the size changing turtle monster, the flying creatures, the GIANT BEAM OF DEATH Blazermate had fired, or any of the other wacky shit that had happened.

Frankly, Geralt was glad he was so utterly unremarkable right now. It made his job much easier. Frankly, he wasn't even quite sure of what he was going to do, but he had to decide quickly. Some of the others were taking the fight to the snipers, while others were trying to destroy the tower itself. Geralt only had a few bombs, but he supposed he could spare them if it helped put an end to this madness. While their opponents weren't doing any real damage, for now, Geralt did not want to imagine what would happen once they were all turned into trophies. It would only be a matter of time.

Still, onward the brigade of the damned shuffled, and Geralt sighted his next target- the Boss's Kid! As they slowly started climbing the twisting mountain-tower, Geralt nodded to himself. He'd grab the kid, smack the trophy base, and they'd get back to fighting.

And maybe blow something up. It was the perfect plan.

Taking a deep breath, Geralt rushed into action. He didn't even bother to worry about being spotted, if he was quick, they wouldn't have time to notice him, not with all the smoke in the area, as well. Grabbing the statue, Geralt lifted it and slapped the base, already turning to get back to his horde, gesturing silently after the Kid to follow. Calling any more attention to himself at this point would be....unwise.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

No-Man's Land, Land of Adventure-> Spiral Mountain, Land of Adventure

Lvl 4 (34/40) -> Lvl 5 (0/50)

Word Count: 690 words

Geralt groaned as Blazermate's healing beam closed his wound, the wound disappearing in a mere moment. "Thanks for the help." He gruffly commented, giving the medabot a nod as he took off back into the fray, only to realize that the battle was essentially already over. Screwing his face up in faux frustration, the Witcher set about collecting a few Spirits from the Primids before sighing. He made sure to grab the Armight's spirits as well, wondering what he could do with them. He hadn't really stopped to think on these spirits much, let alone consider what they could do for him.

Still, now was, yet again, not quite the time to deal with that problem. They had more important issues to deal with, whatever those ended up actually being. This G-rank hunt was already showing to be quite the problem, and this was only the beginning.

As they moved through the canyon, Geralt found himself reminded of his short journey through worlds with Avallac'h. Strange landscapes that would have been impossible back on the Continent or the Skellige Isles. It was almost as if their path had been tailor-made to both allow them passage, and force them to abandon their vehicles. Curious as he found that, Geralt pressed on with the others. The tunnel they found themselves entering made him uneasy, too many memories of drowners and nekkers making residence in caves coming to mind.

As they came upon the valley, Geralt found himself somewhat perplexed at the massive stone head that watched over them. His own head cocked to the side for a moment, before the Master Hand appeared. The shield that appeared around him was both familiar and not, causing Geralt to frown. The voice that came out of nowhere shortly after, however, made the Witcher scowl. Did he say THIRTEEN? That meant they had a dozen more powerful enemies to fight, more powerful than anything he'd faced since appearing here?

Of course there were.

The bright flash of light nearly fried Geralt's pupils, but he averted his eyes, blinking as the tower faded into existence. "Wonderful." He deadpanned. Another sorceror. What was with those bastards and their towers, anyway?!

The figures atop it, however, gave him pause. Most of them were wielding weapons similar to the Courier's and Michael's oversized 'rifle.' Frowning as he vaguely recognized Link as yet another of those damned hero kids, Geralt sighed. There was no way he could get at them from down here. They were nearly a hundred meters up, and there was more than enough distance between here and just the base of the spiraling mountain where they could be picked off.

All that thought went out the window when Peach yelled, Geralt reacting without caring why. He moved, avoiding the incoming fire, and took cover behind the crest of a small hill, looking around for a way to get closer. He didn't fail to notice Euden getting speared by the strange projectiles, nor him turning into a gods-be-damned statue! If one hit was all it took, Geralt was at a crippling disadvantage. There was no way he could approach without getting shot, and he had nothing at hand that could help. A couple of grapeshot bombs, some dimeritium, Cat, and Swallow. Only his Hanged Man's Venom would be of any use, and that still required him to both get close, and cut them with his sword without being crushed to death by that giant troll with a bow!

Cursing to himself, Geralt looked to the others as they started using the resources available to them to create distractions, advance on their enemies, or in Linkle's case, rescue their ally.

Now's as good a time as any, he thought. As the others acted, Geralt charged forward, his eyes watching the enemies above, and broke into the rank of shambling once-dead humanoids that Blazermate had summoned. He wasn't one for necromancy, but he'd let Yennefer mostly get away with it, and this woman had just helped save his life, after all.

Besides, weren't these just...spirits? Not really living souls anymore? Just husks? Yeah, that was fine. Probably.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

No-Man's Land, Land of Adventure

Lvl 4 (33/40) -> Lvl 4 (34/40)

Word Count: 567 words

@Archmage MC

Geralt found himself entranced by the flow of combat. Dodge, parry, strike, strike, strike, parry, dodge, dodge, parry, strike! The Primids were hardly a match for him, but they were catching on to that fact. More came at once than previously, and as the fight drew on, Geralt found himself relying heavily on the assistance of his new allies. As they fought to keep the enemies off the Brother Grimm, Geralt slowly focused more on maintaining the line they were holding than wanton slaughter. Rushing off to cut down more of these things wouldn't do any good if they destroyed their vehicle, or worse, surrounded the Witcher. He could fight, and he could even fight well while outnumbered, but it wasn't exactly a habit for the mutant.

As the veritable army the Bowsers controlled vanished, Geralt found himself glad he'd decided to focus his efforts with the group. Considering that he was now outnumbered a dozen to one by the damn things, even with the others focusing on a chunk of the horde, he was still looking at an uphill battle. "Never easy, of course." The Witcher grunted.

And then it got worse. A pair of armights flew over the Primids, and Geralt audibly cursed, renewing his Quen shield and readying his sword in both hands. "Come on, you piece of filth!" He challenged the monsters, stepping forward and cutting down one of the Primids before backstepping to avoid a cross-bladed slash from one of the flying monsters. A Primid took the opportunity to lunge with its sword, forcing Geralt to throw himself to the side, lifting his sword through its arms and leaving it to dissolve into a Spirit.

Returning his attention to the bigger threat, Geralt groaned as the Armight began a series of slashes with its arms, each parry jarring his bones as he diverted the force behind the attacks. Baring his teeth, Geralt dove in towards the monster, stabbing it through the mouth and turning it into a Spirit.

It was at that point that things went wrong. Geralt's Quen shield burst, and a pair of blades skittered off of his armor harmlessly.

And then a spurt of blood exploded out of his leg as the second Armight stabbed along his thigh, thankfully not impaling the limb, but still drawing quite a bit of the fluid.

Cursing again, Geralt stabbed one of the Primids that had attacked him before falling back, calling out to the others. "They're getting through. Might need a little hel-"

And of course, because things always go from bad to worse, Geralt found his sentence cut off as a Trowlon scooped him up onto its body and started rising into the air. Keeping himself from panicking, Geralt stabbed his sword downwards into the creature, eliciting a cry from it as it shook itself, trying to remove its passenger. As he was being shaken about, Geralt struck the thing on its...head?...dazing it for a moment. Pulling his sword free, Geralt punched the creature's head-looking part again, resulting in the two of them slowly descending as consciousness faded from the creature. Indents in its head gave the reason for that.

The Witcher fell from the attacker unceremoniously as they were about twenty feet up and it faded from existence, leaving behind its Spirit.

"Whoresons." Geralt spat as he shakily rose, looking around. "Hey, Blazermate...could I get a hand?" He asked hesitantly.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

Land of Adventure

Lvl 4 (31/40) -> Lvl 4 (33/40)

Word Count: 775 words

Geralt nodded as he took the small weapon from Tora, not really understanding much beyond asking somebody like him to charge it or leaving it out in the sunlight to charge up. He wasn't even entirely sure what that meant, but he figured it had something to do with how it fired. He'd figure it out in due time.

Peach's quick little speech was almost heartwarming. To him, it felt almost patronizing. 'Oh yes, thank you for risking your life to fix everybody's problems yet again, Mister Witcher. Here's a handful of orens and a pat on the back!' Sometimes, he didn't even get the orens! Still, that was his problem, not Peach's. She seemed genuinely sincere with her praises of the group, and Geralt would just have to deal with his own little self-esteem issue.

As they all got ready to go, Geralt brought his Chocobo over to Linkle and her pouting Chocobo, who the young girl had fed some vegetables to help cheer it up. "Alright, Roach, you keep this...bird...company, alright? I'll be back later."

Oh no, he was still talking to Roach. It seemed no matter the form Roach took, Geralt was doomed to conversations with it. At least Dandelion wasn't here to give him shit about it.

Climbing aboard the Brother Grimm, Geralt frowned. He...wasn't a fan of this thing. It was bumpy, unpleasant, and loud. Still, it was fast, and it could fit plenty of people, so they hardly had a choice in their mode of transportation. As they crossed the Land of Adventure, they passed all sorts of fantastical places that he'd never set foot in, and one or two that he had. That Temple looked like the perfect place for a monster or two to hide out in. Maybe a vampire, or a mad sorcerer using it as his lair.

The massive tree, however, caught his attention. He couldn't imagine a tree like that growing naturally. Still, his medallion wasn't humming, and they couldn't afford to waste time checking every interesting place out, so onward they carried. Soon enough, they spotted the massive black sphere that marked their target. And shortly after that, they came under attack.

Keese, scorpions, giant beetles, and other strange monsters appeared and started attacking the assorted heroes. Geralt was careful not to recklessly attack them, but he did fire a few shots from his new weapon at the keese, satisfied as a single blast of energy destroyed the bat monsters. He nodded at the weapon's effectiveness, clearly impressed. When one or two got too close, he even unleashed a shot of Igni, incinerating the little beasties. Such instances were few and far between, however, as Kamek and the Boss's Kid handled the brunt of the aerial foes.

Eventually, they came upon a gap and were forced to cross it the only way they knew how: a big friggin jump. Because of course this ride had to get even bumpier. As the Brother Grimm launched itself over the canyon, Geralt held on to one of the handrails for dear life. Even then, he was lifted into the air a bit and slammed hard onto his seat, grunting at the discomfort. "Please never do that again..." He complained.

Still, they were across. The group was only just regaining its bearings when the path forward began to bubble, monsters appearing before their eyes. "Here we go," Geralt muttered, pulling his silver sword from its sheath and casting Quen on himself. "Guess I'll handle the little guys."

And handle the little guys he did. The Witcher charged into the horde of Primids, limbs flying as he swung his sword to and fro, dodging all sorts of attacks from the Primids. Here and there, a glancing blow would stop upon his quen shield, but Geralt paid it little heed. He shot of blasts of igni, frying the creatures where they stood, and occasionally pulled his new gun when he wasn't close enough for his sword to reach. He found that it took a good few shots to take even these things down, but that he could fire a lot more quickly than he could with his crossbow. That made up for it, in his mind, because a good few shots staggered the beasties too, allowing him to make quick work of them.

He even noticed that little cup...thing...shooting at one or two of the enemies that dared to try and flank him. Nodding at the support, Geralt took a slightly more aggressive fighting style, careful not to allow himself to get too into it. A bad hit could still leave him seriously injured, of course.