"Oh shit, not good! I just got here, Aristotle, do sothing!"
"What do you want to do? Plato handles reinforcent heads. I just burn things."
"Papa's new woman has completed the [Rain Dance]. Attend to recruiting replacents while I lay waste to the enemy."
I, Chrysippus, had just been born again. Only a handful of heartbeats had been mine to experience before carnage and slaughter descended upon . My brother, Diogenes, had been felled before he even had a chance to unleash his breath attack, but the power he had collected still lingered. Though he dread in The Void, I could still hear his voice, and he sang to the song of rage and sorrow. I seized that power for my own, and with the storm clouds now gathered above, I harnessed my birthright and brought it to bear upon the rapscallions that assailed us.
I unleashed tight and controlled beams of condensed sunlight from my mouth and at the enemy. They lacked the potency of what Diogenes could create, but their purpose was not to kill, but to mark. Where my light hit, the clouds obeyed and cast forth the storm of my vengeance upon my foes. Lightning crashed down upon those so marked, bolt after bolt striking those who opposed until they moved no more. Great winds welled up from the storm clouds as freezing rain poured down upon them. Thanks to Plato's Water affinity, each drop of rain sapped the strength, and, more importantly, mana from the enemy and fed it to my brother and I.
We were the last, and we would hold the line until death claid us.
Anyway, I was busy looking for new recruits. I, Aristotle, had never had to do this before. Plato said there was a list that he could bring up to see what heads were available for recruitnt. Naturally, Chrysippus would have been on that list only a few minutes ago, but we had agreed to recruit him as our newest mber. I looked through the nas, desperately trying to find the ones I recognized from those we did not recruit. Pythagoras would have been great if we needed extra detection Skills to triangulate the position of our enemies, but considering so of them literally crawled over us, we had that task covered. As I looked, the nas faded away until only two heads remained.
I looked, then cleared my mind and looked again, and what nas I saw still remained the sa. These nas transcended belief, for I had not explicitly called upon them. We hydras have no gods to which we pay tribute, but if we did, I stood before divinity. Unbidden by any petition on my part, they offered themselves freely unto . In no position to refuse, I gladly accepted that which others of my kind would kill for.
And lo, the world yet again witnessed the rise of the fallen ones. The Firstborn once again were loaned mortal flesh and were released from The Void and into the realms of us re mortals. Death itself had co to lend its aid unto my brother and I, and I… I witnessed the harbinger of the end tis casually deal destruction on what scale our ager and mortal coil could offer to its temporary reincarnation. Woeful tidings unto our foes, for Titans once again ddled in the affairs of mortals.
My Emperor, I have lost one already, but I would die before I let you perish. You made the right call in sending up the signal flare when you did, for you bought us precious seconds to prepare for the onslaught. This would not be my first ti on the receiving end of a hunt, but for you, I can imagine it would be a stressful and frightening experience. I, however, lived for such events. Battle calls to , it stirs my blood to action, and I heed my instincts.
I, Princess Nanu, favored child of my Emperor, would give my all to his protection. I imdiately began channeling a potent Skill, [Secrets of the Sands]. However, the enemy had channel-jamrs, those who endeavored to undo my work and foil the manifestation of my most powerful Abilities. However, it took a dozen of them to delay the inevitable, which ant a dozen of them were not otherwise attacking us. The tables would turn when I completed my Skill, and so I just had to bide my ti.
Even with [Parallel Minds], my concentration was pressed. My primary mind was devoted to coordinating the rest and choosing long-term goals. Sub-Mind One handled sensory information and flagged threats for Sub-Mind Two, which handled threat assessnt and response actions. Sub-Mind Three kept track of the larger picture of the battlefield and developed strategies to counter my foes. Sub-Mind Four handled communications and so emotional processing in my efforts to compartntalize the onslaught of feelings that welled up inside . Such was my limit, and my Emperor fought without such boons. Soon, he too would have such a benefit, but it would be too little too late if he fell here.
As my Ability neared completion, I felt a ripple of primordial mana wash through the fabric of reality. I turned towards its source, and though each of my minds had its own task, all faltered in their undertakings as I bore witness to what ancient legends and veiled mysteries had hinted at.
I had spent a lifeti learning and collecting knowledge and secrets. I had curated the most trusted and confidential truths and theories that my previous flight, The Secret Stalkers, had accumulated. I had learned the sagas of old, and of those that walked the earth when the first Emperors were born. And of those creatures, few were as shrouded in half-truths and mystery as the Titans. One for certain still lived from the primordial age, The Phoenix, the greatest quetzalcoatlus that had ever soared through the skies. Two for certain were dead, felled by a coalition of The Four Emperors. And yet, those two lived yet again here before . They manifested themselves in The Boys, and I… trembled, before their majesty.
My Identification Skills declared them both plain as day to my senses. [Ninth Head of Hercules - Control] and [Second Head of Heracles - Madness] had spawned into existence. Hercules, the male, and Heracles, the female, were the Firstborn of hydras, each with twelve heads, and Titans each of them. The oldest tales spoke of their many labors, how they shaped the rivers, felled mountains, and hollowed out the earth such that the seas were created. I believed such tales to be embellished, but after witnessing what fractions of power they brought to bear in the ager vessel of The Boys, I questioned my disbelief of those tales.
The first thing I noted that lent credence to the authenticity of the Firstborn was how hydras started pouring out of the proverbial woodwork. Four-Heads and Six-Heads, who had departed only minutes ago, rallied to their ancestors and obeyed their commands. As the minutes passed, more hydras appeared, with Six-Heads being the strongest of them all. However, even a hydra with three heads can kill a Platinum Adventurer caught unawares. How they arrived so quickly defied conventional wisdom, so surely so great Skill carried them here from distant places in the marshlands. Dozens of them assisted, each one unleashing their breath attacks and snatching up the unwary in their maws. Many perished in the battle, but such adverse conditions failed to dissuade them from heeding the call for aid. No doubt, Control conscripted them into service.
Madness let loose a horrendous and discordant screech of a song. I felt it wash over the corners of my mind, its tendrils sifting through my thoughts but ultimately passing by as it sought others. It felt foul and invasive, but that was only a taste of what it offered. I witnessed hunter turn against hunter as they cut each other down with maniacal laughter and sadistic glee. It had spared , and likewise, my allies, but what stalwart few of the enemy that resisted the workings of Madness soon found themselves cut down by their forr allies.
Despite the setback, they still pressed their attack. With my channeling complete, I felt upstaged by the Titans, but I still unleashed what I had been working on. A ball of sand, no bigger than a human's fist, fell from my mouth and onto the ground. Where it struck, sand sprung into existence, and it spread in all directions, devouring the earth and temporarily overlaying a new reality onto the landscape. The land chose the favorable of the two landscapes to aid my allies, providing proper footing in the marshes or hidey-holes to the hydras that dwelled within the pools. Likewise, it chose the less favorable condition for my enemies. No longer aware of where they stepped, so found themselves swallowed up by pits of mud, or others by quicksand as they sank deep into the suffocating embrace of the earth.
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The [Secrets of the Sands] offered a powerful Illusion made real that hid many other perils. [Sand Sharks] prowled the constantly shifting sands. They leapt out to devour the unwary, and a feeding frenzy ensued upon the unfortunate who fell prey to their ambushes. A [Stone Colossus] walked among them, it being a facsimile of an ancient pharaoh, but more than capable of crushing people beneath its feet. Vipers and serpents, both mundane and monstrous, lay hidden within the sands, each one ready to bite at those who would tread upon them and deliver deadly payloads of poison.
And yet, the enemy kept coming. Over a hundred had surely died by now, but the assault continued.
Fear may not have been the first instinct of life, but it remains the most dominant. More than hunger, thirst, sex, exhaustion, or discomfort from pain and the elents, fear guides all beings, pushing lifeforms to remain vigilant and to avoid dangers at all costs. Fear lurks within the hearts of all mortals, and even gods have their own fears.
Yet I fear nothing, for Gulthar is with .
The woman from whom I made the [Banshee's Bride Crown] feared both and death. Her overconfidence had shattered before the weight of her overburdening fear once I had knocked the senses out of her in our opening exchange. She scread, she begged, she cried out for any and every god to save her, but not even the rcy of death could render aid. Though my necromantic creation will linger in this world for perhaps an hour at best, her spirit still clings to it and suffers perpetual tornt for her transgressions. Her soul, however, departed for the hereafter, for no magic short of resurrection could impact a soul.
To be technical, fear is internal and passive. People fear spiders, the dark, monsters under their bed, and the like. The idea of what 'could' happen is the essence of fear. Great and terrible situations, ones that can be objectively and subjectively understood as truly perilous and real cause terror, the imminent expression of dread for what will most likely happen. My [Mantle of Fear] stokes the fires of fear in the hearts of others, but only if those fears exist in the first place. Soone with no arachnophobia would not feel fear no matter what illusions and horrors I show them that are thed around spiders. Yet, if a [Giant Spider] were really here and biting them, terror would certainly well up within them.
Master, as a dragon, will certainly soday have sothing similar to my [Mantle of Fear], although I expect it technically inspires terror at the imminent prospect of a dragon ripping one to shreds. Now, that is not to say I do not have Skills of my own in the discipline of Terror. [Cower Before ] works wonders after I have killed a few people. It really presses ho the reality that any one of the remaining foes could be next. [Contagion of the Mind-Killer] helps to spread the building terror from one victim to another, for each one's doubt that they are the only ones afraid is quickly redied with a swift dose of reeducation. Every one of them is afraid of .
Ah, sweet sings my blade with that lody of fear and terror as panic gnaws away at the edges of their reasoning. Roaring dragons and angry hydras were not enough, apparently, for even Titans had made an appearance on the battlefield. Oh, what sweet sacrants they offer with their screams, each one anointing the altar of despair in the church of screams and blood. Not that war itself was the domain of my God, Gulthar, but battle sorts out the cowards from the stalwart. I had hoped to find one truly brave, but between the madness gripping them from the Titan and the recklessness spurring them onwards from the kobold choir, few were truly at peace within their hearts.
That is until Brick Shithouse here challenged . A hulking brute of an orc, his greataxe probably weighs more than I do with my armor on. He has no fear in his heart, only the song of battle and the lust for bloodletting. He feels no terror, only the seductive satisfaction of the kill and the power to strive for victory. Were I rely a [Divine Champion], he would have killed a dozen tis over, for that Blessing works best against the craven masses.
No, I instead relied on the hardiness, regenerative Abilities, and overwhelming power offered by [Dragon Knight] to endure the blows that have left my arms numb from parrying. Rage and pride welled within , eager to be released to prove him unworthy as [You Dare Stand Before ] constantly fueled increasing power to my body and Abilities. [Wings of the Dragon] gave short bursts of incredible movent in both speed and maneuverability, both of which I needed to avoid the kiss of his blade. I am sure the pair of us looked like a blur as we dashed around the battlefield, which had beco a sandy arena as of late.
Master favored no elent and selected none for his breath attack, but I have always loved the school of Shadow. Each kill had earned a [Shadow Squire] to back up, but they were all busy fending off the other dragon hunters while I dueled this foe. They had to keep killing to sustain themselves, and with people running around in terror and madness, they had a target-rich environnt to do just that. None of them would help with this guy though, for my blade only chipped away at him ever so slowly when I could land a blow.
They spread more terror and stoked more fears, and such dreadful thoughts in the minds of others only served to empower as [Dread the Inevitable] feasted upon their panic. I had but to endure my opponent as my power ramped up, then I could kill him once and for all. But orcs are a hardy sort and can shrug off blows that would kill other humanoids. Likewise, his taphysical presence grew in tandem with mine, for he had so Skill of his own that ramped up his power. We were each giants among insects, but to hesitate or give in to distraction for even an instant would see either of us dead. We gave our all to the struggle, for only one would walk away from this encounter. We both reveled in the dance with death as it intoxicated our minds with the promise of knowing what it is to truly be alive.
I knew not his secret, for I observed no overt usage of Abilities with any elental affinity. Certainly, he used Skills that [Warriors] have to fight up close in lee, but I did not see fire wreathing his blade nor the earth rising up to form armor like a second skin. Perhaps he was a purist, trading away the elents for raw power. It sure felt like it as a backhand to my chest sent flying. I crashed down hundreds of feet away in the marsh, so he knocked out of the range of the sands from Nanu. Before I could even rise, he was there with his axe raised high and ready to bury it in my chest. I lacked the strength and leverage to properly block, but I would fight to the bitter end. The first blow knocked my sword from my hand, and the second ca down shortly after.
Master, forgive . Your loyal servant, Skull, has failed you.
512; that is how many of the scoundrels I knew lurked about thanks to my Skill, [Froggy Went A-Countin]. The dastardly cowards ambushed us in the marshlands, and though my beloved Ribbette guarded the rear, so of the craven hunters managed to find a way through. I defended my Liege Lord to my utmost, distracting who I could and interdicting them with my flaming kicks and the reach of my blade. Though Titans walked among us and strange sands terraford the field, I did not yield or falter. My Liege Lord had offered no quarter, and so I cut them down without rcy. 310; that is how many lay dead or dying after a few minutes of battle.
One poor fool found himself tied to a pole and carried by the kobolds like ga from a hunting trip. The kobold with the headdress stood atop a small stepped pyramid. There, the sacrificial victim was held down as the kobold cut open his chest and ripped out his heart, holding it aloft to where the sun would be if not for the storm. Well, I am sure the sun is still there, but hidden by the clouds. Almost at the sa ti, another kobold cut off the victim's head. So, that makes 3 so far who shared that fate, with another one on the way by the looks of things.
But the kobolds did not fare as well as one may hope. 15 were dead. Gambino and Bambina had been manning a crossbow the size of a ballista, with Bambina holding up the front and Gambino firing it from the rear, but they had both been impaled on a spear. They yet lived, but their lifeblood flowed freely from their bodies. The black-clad kobolds dragged them to safety, but without healers to render aid, they too would perish. More kobolds died by the minute, and many would remain dead, for my Liege Lord did not have enough dragon eggs to resurrect all of them.
Skull, the Knight Champion of my Liege Lord, had been knocked into the distance by a rather large fellow. In that mont of distraction as I watched her peril, soone took ahold of , but a swift application of [Wrestle Up So Grub] allowed to break his hold and push him away. I saw the axe rise up in his hand, and seeing the perilous nature of her prone position, I sprung to action. With legs braced, I ignited my Skill, [Spanghew BBQ], to close the distance while leaving a trail of fire in my wake. I am inclined to believe BBQ stands for 'Bullfrog Bullrush Quotient', but Ribbette disagrees, saying it is sothing about cooking.
Either way, before his axe could co down on Skull a second ti, my lead shoulder crashed into her assailant as my free hand wielded my blade in a thrust for the head of his axe. Between pushing him and my blade nudging his axe off course, his swing found itself afoul of his intended target, with the head of the axe finding purchase in naught but mud. [Spring In My Step] allowed to kick off him within a fraction of a second of our collision and transfer all the montum to him as I landed deftly next to Skull.
She rose up on her own accord and might posthaste, and together, we valiantly stood ready to face the brute's countercharge. This battle would be a bloody affair. I could only hope that my Liege Lord and the love of my life, Ribbette, would survive, for the odds were still grim.
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