A City Betwixt

[DrowsyPangolin]

Oliver struggled to maintain his balance on the shifting earth, his knees threatening to buckle as the ground shook beneath him. Vito extended an arm in assistance, and the priest gave him a thankful nod, backing away from the edge of the cliff. "I've had enough of the sea for a while." His hand flew to his face, holding up his glasses as he looked about at his companions. It seemed everyone was alright. He watched the temple with baited breath as Alana gave her warning, but the stony building seemed to maintain its integrity even while its foundations shuddered and shook beneath it. Then, as suddenly as it had began, the quaking ceased. Oliver let out a sigh of relief. "Everybody alrigh-." A low, gurgling sound came rumbling up from the depths of a nearby chasm. The sound was unnatural, unnerving, but very much alive.

As the sound rumbled up from the chasm, the remaining wisps began to wail and cry. Before they had sounded melancholy, but their new lamentations were not those of sadness, but of fear. They were far louder now than they had been previously, and their cries were deeply uncomfortable. Oliver's eyes danced about. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. The ex-priest took a step toward the chasm, his fist clenched at his side, but halted in his tracks as a gurgled roar echoed up from the abyss. The sloshing, bubbling sound was now accompanied by a scratching, a scraping, like steel on stone.

Four massive fingers found their way over the chasm's edge. Their flesh was black and bubbling, like thick tar. Jagged, bony fingertips protruded from the black sludge, yellowed and worn. A smell of rot and decay billowed out from the boiling flesh as the fingers dug into the sheer rock, pulling upwards. A behemoth of a creature raised itself from the crag, its flesh bubbling and writhing as its twisted body came into view. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, but monstrous in size. Its body seemed to consist entirely of horrid black sludge that smoked and bubbled, dripping from its frame. Ragged yellow bones jutted out from the rancid sea of ooze in places, suggesting some kind of skeleton lay beneath the repulsive slime. Its left arm, the one it had raised itself up with, was abnormally large, even in comparison with its massive form, and hung nearly to the ground. The right arm was malformed and shrunken, hanging limp at the creature's side. The monster's head was the only portion of its body that didn't consist of the black tar, instead, a mass of thorns rested upon its shoulders. The thorns were of a deep wine red color, and formed a dense thicket around where the abomination's head should've been. Within the depths of the vile growth, a sickly pale light shone through. Coming down from the head, the thorny vines wove throughout the monster's flesh, evidently integral to its construction. Two bony protrusions jutted forth from the monstrosity's back. They seemed to have once been wings, or perhaps they had never grown to that point in the first place, whichever the case, they clearly were not serving their purpose.


The beast rose to its feet, towering over the onlookers around it. It raised its monstrous hand upward, toward a nearby cloud of Greys. With a disgusting snarl, a mouth opened wide on its palm. The gaping pit was lined with rows upon rows of jagged teeth, and a long, black tongue fell from the gaping maw as it opened. The shrieking of the greys reached a fever pitch, but the sound of rushing air drowned out their cries. The titan's hand seemed to inhale them into its gullet, and they cried no more. Its task done, it turned to the party at its feet. The creature leaned forward, its thorny head only a few yards from Oliver. The ex-priest looked upon the horror before him, the color rapidly draining from his face. He had been told of monsters in his life, of vile fiends that corrupted the faithful and killed the innocent, but this was a true monster. The creature reared back its great arm, giving the man little time to react. He raised his arms to block the strike, but the force of the blow sent him flying backwards, tumbling across the rocky terrain towards the church.



Oliver raised himself from the ground, coughing and sputtering. His arms had taken the brunt of the monster's attack, but the sheer force of the blow, along with his impact on the ground, had battered him quite a bit. He forced his way to his feet, feeling the ache radiating through his body as he did so. He'd lost his hat and glasses, and his body was scratched and bruised. His arms, though, had survived the encounter wholly intact. He looked around to the others, then back to the monstrosity before them. It blocked their only escape route, and as sturdy as the church was, he doubted it could take too much of a beating from that sort of beast. The priest spat out a mouthful of blood. Their only option was to fight, but there was no fighting something like that.





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Anabel stared, her deep blue eyes wide with horror at the nightmarish demon that loomed before her. She shook her head, her skin going paper white. "No, no, no..." She backed away, her knees shaking as cold dread needled the pits of her stomach. She couldn't comprehend the thing that now stood before them. She had barely been able to comprehend the world as it was. It was all too much. She wasn't meant for this, she wasn't strong enough to deal with horror like these. The girl bolted, running back into the church. Somewhere inside, she knew that running was pointless, all that stood across from her was a sheer cliff. There would be no escape. She was trapped.


She made it about halfway through the church before she dropped to the ground, shivering. She clenched her eyes shut. "Just wake up, just wake up. This isn't real, it can't be real." Her fists clenched, her fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palms. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get away. She wasn't going to wake up. She was dead, and it looked like she was about to die again. "Please, no. I just wanted peace. I just want to get away. Far away." She curled into a ball on the stone floor. "Somebody help, I need help, anybody... please..." She lay there, shaking, gritting her teeth.


"We can help you little one... you just have to feed us." Her eyes opened. The blade lay before her on the floor.

 

[Epsir]

Vivian searched for injuries among the party from where she was situated, but as the rumbling settled down her concern was quickly redirected to the wisps. It was in no language she had ever heard of, they still made no sense, but she recognized the sounds they made. A primal, desperate fear rang in their intonations now, one that she could recognize quite easily. The other noise was even more grating, offended her ears from deep within the soil and rapidly growing closer. She watched it emerge from the fissure with deep curiosity and awe, frozen in place by the otherworldly sight. It smelled of death, its body was an emblem of decay and disfigurement. Perhaps a god of death, perhaps their greeter? It lacked the mannerisms of such a being. A peculiar tension tugged at her as it raised its hand. She had no conception of the significance of the monster's gesture, but all the same she felt nothing but wrong as its twisted maw unfurled. No sooner than it was open did she learn exactly why. It was simply there to prey on the weak. Her head tilted back towards the ground, she held it as a dull pain circulated her mind. Naturally there was nothing she could do for them, it was their time to leave whatever strange world this was. However, if she could give them even a few more seconds of a peaceful life, not to mention the people beside her...

She slowly picked herself up from the now stilled ground, brushing down the front of her dress as she rose. Vivian looked upon the putrid beast as it leaned closer to Oliver. Was it merely obeying the order of the world? If that was the case, it was no more evil than a spider or a rat. Some small voice still indicated that it was lunacy, but the rest of her was convinced that she had seen far worse, however repulsive its physical form was. More likely than not, it didn't have a choice in how it was sculpted. As she accumulated her will, Oliver sailed straight past her. It had all happened too quickly for her, but she was already running in his direction. She wanted to say something to the others, but nothing made any sense. There was nowhere to run to, only an unstable structure. No instructions to give, only waiting. Maybe a skirmish, seeing as Oliver had survived his ordeal. She raised her hands as she came up to him, hoping to catch the man before he stood and keep him from hurting himself further, but the priest was already on his feet. Anabel had by then run by them, straight into the temple. It wasn't the safest place to be but they had better chances as a group, she felt. "You can't be moving after something like that." She looked over her shoulder, at lumbering death. Given the punch it had thrown, it probably wasn't too slow for movement. "But... Come on," she said, turning back. Settling for desperation, she took a step towards the doors and offered a hand down to Oliver. "We can at least make it force its way indoors. We'll have more time that way."

---

Lain was entertaining no such ideas. The bubbling had been coming from some monster traveling underground. The afterlife was real and it was haunted by such inane apparitions. A beast of tar and thorns towered over him and his compatriots, with a dandy little set of miniature wings and an arm that seemed more at home as the punchline of some schoolboy's joke. It was eating the clouds, which were clearly none too happy about the ordeal but for the moment he failed to grasp how exactly a cloud could die. Seeing as they were already dead, logic told him that it fell to forces far darker. He wondered, briefly, what a soul as misused as his looked like. That all stopped when it knocked Oliver back over to the temple. He was retired, and terrific hellbeast or not he no longer held quarrel with anyone. Well, there was one exception. As pleasant as the company had been, he immediately looked for his way out of the situation. Try as he might to square it up, there was simply no getting around the demon and the crags at the same time. Add to that, if he managed to rush by, there was no telling how fast that underground travel moved the creature around.

That left what, exactly? Fight alongside them? He eyed his accomplices next. There was the girl in blue, doing nothing. The other girl, running straight into the abbey. Alana had the build to be a fighter but without weaponry he wasn't eager to be betting his life on that. That left Oliver, who had at least done them the favor of showing a punch was survivable, and the old man, who was waving his hands about in what looked like insanity a few seconds prior. He doubted that was the case, he'd been too lucid before, before he spent too long on the detail he decided it was merely another of a world of differences to see in his new partners.

As one of the furthest from the temple, he started walking backwards and kept himself between it and the approaching demon. It had taken longer than usual, but he had his verdict. There wasn't any way to run from this problem, so he'd have to fight to be safe. His hand reached behind him and snatched his weapon from its clip. The lock disengaged with a click in his hand, and as he stretched his arm out to his side the blade shot out to its full length. Another click held it there, and he leveled its tapered point at his target. He wasn't exactly counting on it understanding the display but at the very least it was a length of steel between him and that thing. That gave him at least another second to think on how to kill something that was very clearly a skeleton covered in rotting goo. He would have been shocked to learn it had blood to spill.

 

[ArmoredScout]

He was broken out of his dreaming trance by a massive hand flying by him, knocking Oliver clear, back towards the church. He turned his head up, and a loon like wheeze escaped his lips. A monstrous skeleton covered in an oily ooze, head wrapped in occluding thorns, palm-maw filled with the ghostly wisps, and breast full of bright, angry light. He felt nothing, for a moment, his mind blank and body calm, as he sprang to his feet, arms snatching his ax and sword from his belt, looking up at the hopelessly ugly monster. The wisps terrified him, with their cacophony of wails and screeches as they were devoured, their incorporeal bodies and mysterious, unknowable nature. But this... This was physical. This was massive, this was hideous, this was angry and violent. This was understandable, this was, despite its abominable nature, something Vito could very easily comprehend.

There was glory in felling this giant, and fire began to burn in his breast as elation spread from his head down to his toes, spreading his arms wide before pointing at the massive beast with his sword.

"You think you're going to stop me before I've even started? I've seen brigands meaner than you, you sorry beast! Why don't you do us all a favor and give us a REAL challenge! WHY DON'T YOU USE BOTH YOUR ARMS!" He shouted that last bit, before looking up and down that monster. He couldn't climb it, the ooze would either slide him off or absorb him whole, and he certainly couldn't reach any vitals. He wasn't sure if there were vitals to reach. But, he cast his gaze down, towards its knees, its ankles...

A soot colored mist began to fall from the man, heavy and slow, spreading down him and pooling at his feet. His eyes shone from inside that mask, and he grinned manically at the thought of telling stories of the day he struck down a real, true Demon. He took off at a sprint, boots clacking across the ground, as he rushed for the monsters ankles, charging into a savage strike with his ax. Alongside his rush, he listened intently to hear that creature try to strike at him, ready to heave himself away from that creature at a moments notice.

"YOU'RE MINE! FOR THE BYTHIAN ROUT I CLAIM YOUR HEAD!"

 

[Majem]

Quick to come and quick to go, the earthquake seemed to pose little threat to the party, the temple, or Maulnar's magic reserves. He had successfully kept himself stable throughout the event, but the dangers of this new world were far from over. Presenting itself with a low, gurgling sound, a hideous monster made of thick, foul-smelling tar covering a yellowed skeleton, which may or may not resemble that of a human, came crawling out of the ground. It was tall, malformed, absolutely disgusting, but worst of all it seemed hostile.
Maulnar's hand, still raised from his previous spells, now began gently scratching the air above it while he observed the monstrosity's body and actions. Its thick 'skin' might not be easy to cut through and depending on how worn down its skeletal frame was, neither would that be easy to bring down. Were it actually tar that it was covered in, his next spell would be infinitely more useful than he believed it to be now. Regardless, he had to try. It had absorbed some of the greys and now had his attention focused on them. A fight seemed inevitable.

The smaller ones of the party had fled to the safety of the church for which Maulnar was very thankful. He wasn't certain Oliver could put up any sort of fight against this thing, but the priest seemed eager to fight, most likely out of desperation. He'd successfully taken a blow from the beast, but whether that was due to his strength or its weakness remained to be seen. Lain had his weapon raised and Vito was charging the beast. Good. Maulnar looked over at his hand, which now had a fireball the size of his own head hovering over it.
The monster was large enough that Vito would not be hit by the fireball should Maulnar aim for the top part. He took careful aim, then threw his fireball at the red coloured vines which Maulnar believed to be its head. If not that, they seemed vital enough to be a good focus of attack.

 

[Moogle-Girl]

Finally, the quaking stopped, prompting Alana to slowly rise to her feet. With a quick scan, she noted that the temple was still standing and everyone was alright. But she couldn't relax yet, not when the wisps started screaming and another bubbling sound rose up from the depths. This one was different, though. It sounded... almost like a growl. Oliver took a step towards the chasm the sound was coming from; Alana started reaching out to stop him, but froze in her tracks when a monster reared its ugly head.

Alana had seen monsters in her time. She'd fought all manner of things from agile dog-men to twisted shadow-spawn to even younger dragons, and she came out on top more often than not. But this, this was beyond her experiences. The monster seemed to be made of nauseating tar, with yellowed bones jutting out as it moved and a head of nothing but writhing thorny vines. It opened a mouth laid in its hand and devoured all of the wisps floating around them, silencing their screeching cries once and for all. Alana had to steel herself to keep from being sucked in with them. The monster then turned to Oliver and sent him flying across the bluff with a single swipe of its oversized arm.

Anabel made a break for the church but collapsed on the ground halfway there. Alana had no interest in helping her. She had no idea what this monster was, why it was there, or how powerful it could truly be, but she did know one thing: it was hostile. And if Alana was slain here -- assuming she could die again in this twisted plane of existence -- then there was no hope of ever returning home, no matter how briefly. She supposed she did know one other thing about the hideous creature: it was in her way.

Jumping back, she quickly fished her spiked gloves out of her backpack, put them on, and then threw the bag aside. She didn't know how effective her weapons would be; if anything her fists would just get caught in the monster's bubbling skin. Vito began calling to the monster, egging it on, and then ran right at its legs with axe in hand. Alana was grateful for the distraction the warrior provided and she silently wished him luck. Spreading her feet in a firm stance and snarling fiercely, Alana began to focus on her own magic. Her gloved hands glowed violet and she raised them to fire two brilliant beams of dark energy, her magical rays twisting around each other in a spiral that came to a sharp point directed at the monster's head.

 

[DrowsyPangolin]

The blade of Vito's axe sank into the monster's leg with a terrible splattering sound, its tar-like flesh splashing out, bubbling, on to the ground. The creature's 'head' turned down towards the warrior, the pale light still shimmering betwixt the thick layers of thorns. A strange growl emanated from the creature, a grinding, scraping sound. In a flash, it slammed its hand downward toward the warrior, attempting to crush him. The bubbling mass of flesh roared aloud, the light behind its thorns turning from white to a seething red. As the creature raged, Maulnar's fireball struck the thicket on its shoulders. The creature seemed to recoil at the flash of fire to its head, and for a moment it seemed the vines were ablaze, but the ooze that covered the monster's body rose, seemingly on command, smothering the flames. As it attempted to tend to its injury, Alana's attack struck. Again, the beast recoiled as vines dropped from its head, squirming and pulsing like worms.


The demon shrieked, its voice like a landslide rumbling down a mountain. Its rudimentary wings creaked, pounding at the air in futility. Enraged, the creature dropped to a crouching position, holding itself steady with its oversized hand. There was another shriek, this one louder, and the ooze that made up the creatures body began to boil and hiss, spewing the insipid sludge everywhere around it. The black liquid seemed to scar the solid rock. The vines around the monstrosity's head began to pulsate and move. The monster's great fingers dug into the stone as it flung itself forward, charging through the group with surprising agility.



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Oliver shook his head at Vivian. "I don't think they have any intention of waiting." He motioned towards their companions, who had now squared up to fight the hulking abomination before them. Vivian wasn't wrong, falling back into the temple was likely a safer decision than trying to fight the monster outright, but it would only be a matter of time before it made its way through the door. He wiped the blood from his lip. Looking down, he realized the monster's attack had torn the bandages from his arms. They seemed to be stained with blood. "If you can't fight you should fall back into the church. You're right, it is the safest place to be." He felt the aching in his legs, wondering if he could even help in the fight. The demon had thrown him around like little more than a ragdoll.


The priest watched as his companions attacked the creature. Vito's attack seemed brash, but that was likely the norm for him, and if he could survive a blow from the monster, he had no doubt the warrior could as well. Maulnar and Alana were attacking the beast at range with some strange magical abilities he had never seen before. Lain seemed ready to react to whatever move the demon made. Maybe they did have a shot. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the demon was charging towards them. The ex-priest looked towards the monster, then back towards Vivian. Without thought, he dashed back toward the church, half-shoving half-tackling Vivian through the door. The demon slammed against the stone threshold, its thorny head visible for a moment through the doorway.



Oliver rose to his feet, taking hold of one of the vines that constricted around the monster and tugging it backward. The thorns were long and razor sharp, but his hands seemed strong enough to defend against their points. He threw his weight backwards, and the vine seemed to give. The demon's roar filled the church with a deafening screech, still, Oliver held tightly to the vine. He had no idea what he was doing. It certainly didn't seem like a good idea, still, he pulled back until he heard the sound of tearing. He fell backwards, and with him came the vine, writhing about in apparent agony. The creature screeched again, slamming its hand against the church's wall and attempting to raise itself back up.



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Anabel sat against the wall of the church, seemingly unfazed by the commotion. Her sword rested across her lap, and her eyes seemed entranced by the object. She spoke in quiet whispers. "Feed you? How would I do that?" A flurry of voices echoed in her head. "With life. Feed us life. You took our life, we want life in return." She shook her head. "I already gave you my life, remember?" A tear flowed down her cheek. "One life is not enough, you took many lives from us. We can make you strong, we can give you courage, but you have to give us life." Anabel's hands shook as her fingers inched toward the weapon's hilt. "Whose life?" The voices seemed to giggle. "It doesn't matter. It didn't matter who you cut down before, why does it now? Pick us up little one, pick us up and let us help you." She lowered her head. "I'm terrified." The voices grew quiet for a moment. "So were we."

 

[ArmoredScout]

He felt the creature shift its legs as it moved that oversized arm to smash him, jerking his ax free of that sludge and heaving himself away, the wind of that creatures hand barely passing him by stirring the robe that covered his chain-clad legs. He slammed to the ground a few feet away, struggling to pull himself further away from that monster as it dropped into a crouch. He swung that ax clean, flicking that ooze to the ground as the now crimson tinted monster was struck by something that was very clearly on fire. The monster screeched and squealed, as Vito quickly rolled onto his back. The old man had done something, though what it was he really couldn't say, clambering to his feet and staring at that ragged monster. The ax hadn't done any real damage, but the creature had been in a hurry to hit him, and that was good, he could work with that.

He watched the monster drop into its crouch, uncertain as to what to do. It began to boil, that ooze seemingly beginning to heat up, scarring and melting the rock around it as the sludge began to fall off of it. He checked himself over, finding that a bit of the stuff had already burned a hole in his robe and fallen through, hissing angrily on the ground as if it were angry it had missed its chance to harm him. Shrugging a bit and climbing to his feet, he began to call to that monster before it began to charge forward at a frighteningly fast pace. He couldn't get close, not unless he wanted to lose something, but.. Perhaps he could continue to distract it. He braced himself, ready to heave himself out of the way once more, before shouting again.

"HEY! HEYYYY! I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET! YOU'VE GOT NOTHING TO FEAR FROM A SCAMP AND A PRIEST, YOU MONGREL!" He broadcasted his voice as best as he could, before examining that sword of his. The fifth Chedian Dirk, and the final one according to his current situation. He was loathe to lose it, given that this surely wasn't the last monster in this place, but... Company, even if they were strangers, meant more to him than a lousy, poorly weighted sword that had been a 'gift' from some prissy nobleman whose cart he had looted prior to the engagement with the Rhondian and Suthian armies. He reared his arm back, spat out a quick prayer to Ka-Alaa, and heaved that sword as hard as he could at that monsters back, that mist flowing off of him with a tad more vigor as that sword took fight.

 

[Epsir]

In the time he took waiting for the creature's next move bolts of unearthly light went soaring over Lain's head, joined by a streamer of fire. Things finally clicked for him, although he had always been under the assumption that such things simply did not exist. They weren't meant to, but neither were monsters like the one before him. He didn't have time to reel at the absurdity of it all. It didn't enjoy getting blasted and set alight, he doubted anything could, but most encouragingly it reacted to Vito's axe digging into the filth it called flesh. A chunk of its constituent goo fell to the ground, off of the man's weapon. He took a step towards the demon, and only made it that far before the creature began to hiss and bubble. Its horrid sludge began to bubble, springing free of its body and raining down on the stone. The ground immediately began to sizzle in concert with the dangerous fluid. A certain resentment rose in him as he watched. Even as a frown tugged on his face he kept moving forward. It was a fight, after all. He surged between droplets of the deathly ooze, winding his way over the torn up ground as he made to assail the demon. It returned in kind, leaping forward at the party with speed unfit for such a lumbering frame. He was fortunate enough to already be in motion, springing aside and lashing out at its passing form as it charged the party. Burning tar hissed by him as he worked, threatening disfigurement but no more than the creature from which it all came.

He slid to stop on the disturbed terrain, taking great care not to stop in any liquid fire as his city slicker's shoes failed him on soil and would almost certainly fail him further in boiling pitch. Lain found himself beside Vito on the other side, watching the demon bury its head into the temple. The man was shouting at the demon, even going so far as to hurl his sword at it. He wasn't sure if he was imagining the warlike aura encompassing the man or if it was a product of yet more magic. He was feeling woefully under armed at that point, as he hoisted up his sword and made sure there wasn't any of the evil syrup ruining his one good weapon. With its head, its bizarre tangle of vines, hidden within the temple, there was nothing the scattered party could do to damage it. Vito and Lain had the option of stripping away every bit of slimeflesh it had, but the old man and Alana had achieved better results hitting its overgrown, glowing face. Lain stooped down, passing his sword over to his left hand and scooping up a rock. He cocked his arm back and tossed it at the monster, joining Vito in his attempts to lure the demon back out of the temple.

---

Vivian felt indignant, though she wasn't exactly why such frustration blossomed in her. It wasn't that she was being made aware of the fact that she couldn't fight, that almost went without saying. She followed Oliver's motion, watching the fight unfold. Her gaze wavered, her focus swapping between the battle and the disfigured arms of the man in front of her. These were not the sort of people she was used to protecting, though that world wasn't exactly right. In the end she'd protected exactly nothing. Her melancholy face locked in place, she did not retract her hand as she contended with the realities of their situation. You are acting on impulse, against your nature, she concluded, arms dangling back to her side. Before she could even turn away, however, her world began to spin and shift.

She tumbled to the ground with an, "Ooph," as the air left her lungs. Everything was dark again, she knew that she'd been pushed back into the temple, and there was a warm weight on top of her. Oliver's image was twisted and skewed. Her hands came up to her face, adjusting her displaced glasses and bringing the man back into focus as he stood up and away from her. She was just in time to catch glimpses of a few tiny, violet sprites drifting upwards from her, flickering away into the air. Questions came to her first, but then she noticed the visage of the demon locked within the door. It roared, shaking both the temple and her skull with a tremendous roar of rage made manifest. She rolled over, holding herself up and looking around the temple. Anabel was in the building, cradling the immense sword she had come with and... speaking to it? She was not sure if she was hearing the girl's whispers or imagining it in the echoes of the demon. She turned back ground, gathering her knees beneath her and getting ready to stand up when the sound of vines tearing drew her eyes upwards. Oliver was going to the ground once again, and Vivian held her arms out to catch the falling priest. Even as the dangerous vine wriggled in his hands she looked back at Anabel. Keeping her perspective going round and round had started to become comfortable, she hadn't had any idea what she was doing for a couple of minutes at that point.

 

[Majem]

Success. His attack had struck true, hurt the creature and stopped it from taking its anger out on Vito. But as he feared, the creature's bodily fluids extinguished the flames he created before they could do any real damage. Perhaps a bigger one would do the trick, but that would require much more time, time he didn't have during combat unless the others could distract the beast long enough, or trap it. Still, it would also drain far more energy than he was willing to spare. This certainly wouldn't be the only hostile creature in these lands and who knows just how big they could get.
Then another attack hit the beast. Magic, it seemed, though much more offensive in nature than his own. He glanced towards its source only to find Alana, now wearing spiked gloves. "A fighter mage. A rare sight." Maulnar mumbled to himself.

Then it shrieked and uselessly flapped what were once wings. Luckily for the group it didn't have those anymore or this fight would become nigh impossible to win. It crouched down, steadied itself and shrieked again, spewing its ooze around everywhere before charging through them towards the church. The walls held and the beast was too large to fit through the doorframe, but it seemed to stay there for a while. Had it caught somebody?

Maulnar ran as fast as his old legs could carry him towards the beast, skillfully dodging the drops on the ground. As he ran, he spread his arms wide, scratching the air in a similar way he'd done before. Once he reached Vito and Lain he clapped his hands together then spread them outwards as if stroking a spear pole. From his hands came black fire that kept the shape he had motioned, a long pole with a large curved part at the top. A scythe, even bigger than he was, made of black fire. Weightless and harmless to him.
"Don't get caught in its path once it retreats." He told the two men trying to lure the beast out, before taking a swing with his weapon to aid them in their intent.

 

[Moogle-Girl]

Both Maulnar and Alana's magical attacks seemed to hurt the monster, prompting Alana to grin and prepare another attack, this one stronger and more sustained. She didn't get the chance to strike again, however, when the monster screeched in painful rage and scatter bits of its tarry skin everywhere. Alana was forced to cover her ears and dodge the flying chunks of sludge as the great beast steadied itself for a charge. "Shit!" Alana swore, watching the monster slam headfirst into the door of the church, nearly crushing some of the others in the process. She wasn't used to fighting creatures this big. Was the speed it showed even normal? How could she stop it from running around freely like that?

She couldn't see what was going on in the church, but whatever it was, it was obviously causing the beast a great deal of pain. Its screeches filled the sky with such ferocity that Alana almost missed the depressed cries of the gray wisps from before. Vito continued his brutish but seemingly effective assault, roaring more insults and even heaving his sword at the monster's back. Lain's actions were a little less impressive, and Alana almost demanded to know what he thought he was doing chucking pebbles before realizing he was probably trying to help Vito's distraction efforts. Whatever, it meant there was less of a chance she'd be hit.

She watched Maulnar motion with his arms and manifest a magical scythe, black flames waving from its form but leaving Maulnar's hands unharmed. For a moment she was hit with a pang of jealousy; she wasn't even aware there was a spell that could create a physical weapon from magical energy. Maulnar's age had clearly gifted him with intense prowess. She'd just have to prove that she could be just as strong, if not stronger. The air around her seemed to crackle and snap as she willed her body to fill with energy. With a sharp flick of her glowing arms, she released it in a great vertical wave that traveled along the ground, racing towards the monster's side.

What she couldn't possibly know was that they weren't just fighting some hulking monster dripping with corrosive sludge, they were fighting a demon. Creatures born from darkness and destruction, fueled by ill-gotten souls of innocent people. Though Alana's dark magic was a highly effective tool against humans, especially those with pure, untainted souls, her current foe was a different story. If the demon's head was its weak point, she would need much more powerful attacks to harm its body.

 

[DrowsyPangolin]

Vito's sword landed true, sinking deep within the the thick black sludge of the monster's back. As it sank, the ooze hissed and smoked around the blade, as if devouring it, or perhaps melting it away. The stone Lain had thrown met a similar fate. A low grumbling sound echoed out from the beast as it attempted to steady itself against the temple's stone wall. Just as it found its feet, the scythe met the back of the creature's legs. No obvious damage was done, in fact the monstrosity's legs didn't seem to receive so much as a scratch. The moment the blade passed through it, however, the demon let out a earthshaking screech. Alana's blast struck it in the side, which seemed only to enrage it further. The monster doubled over backwards, its bones crunching horribly as its body restructured itself. Its arm seemed to rotate around entirely as the creature fell into a crouching position, now facing away from the temple.


The demon's flesh boiled, and its screeching continued. The thorn-covered vines began to flail about wildly around it, and the red light shining within its head flashed like a great fire. The monster plunged forward, sweeping its arm in a wide arc in front of it. It had a great reach, and seemed determined to either smash the people before it or send them flying off the cliff. The creature began flailing about furiously, slamming its hand down at whoever happened to be near. The vines entwined about its body loosened their grip and began lashing out with their sharp thorns as it advanced. The creature's rage shook the ground, and its cries were almost deafening.


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As Oliver fell back, he felt the aching in his body fade. A strange numbness overtook him, and for a moment, he almost felt at peace. The pain was still there, but it felt distant, almost like a memory. He was pulled back to his senses by the thrashing vine in his hands. He tossed it away, watching it squirm about on the ground like a dying worm. He sat up, turning his eyes towards Vivian, noting the fading violet sprites near her hands. "That's an interesting trick." He wasn't exactly sure of the nature of the woman's power, but if nothing else it seemed to have lessened his pain, which he was thankful for.


The ex-priest's pondering was cut short by the awful shrieking outside. It seemed the others had managed to pull the monster's attention. He didn't know how they could defeat the beast. It was true, the people around him were far more powerful than he had initially guessed, but even so, the monster seemed nigh unstoppable. He watched as the beast reshaped its body and began flailing about like a rabid dog. It didn't seem like a very thoughtful creature, but its strength more than made up for its lack of intellect. "How do you kill something like that?" As he asked the question, he heard footsteps behind him.


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Anabel walked slowly across the floor of the church. Her hood hung over her eyes, but tears could be seen streaming down her cheeks. Her hang was wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword, which hung loosely at her side as she walked. For a moment, the blade scraped the floor, and bright sparks flew in every direction. The girl passed by Vivian and Oliver without a word, stopping at the writhing vine. She stared at the flailing appendage for a moment in silence. With an unnaturally quick jerking motion, she brought her blade down on the vine. Rather than splitting in half, the vine appeared to have been torn to ribbons. The pieces twitched for a moment, and then ceased movement entirely. Apparently satisfied, the girl continued toward the door of the church.


Voices swarmed in Anabel's head. They were difficult to understand in the cacophony, but they seemed to be accusing her, cursing her. She made out the word 'murderer' within the sea of voices. She could see through her eyes, but her body felt like it was moving on its own. She supposed this was the 'help' that had been promised to her. She tried to speak, but her throat refused her, tightening as she moved her lips. She could feel a terrible hatred coursing through her, a rage that did not belong to her, but seemed painfully familiar. A bitter taste filled her mouth and seemed to spread through her body. She heard another voice: 'injustice'. It came to her suddenly. They were the voices of the slain, the final cries of every unfortunate soul she had ever silenced. The voices grew louder.


Anabel stopped a few steps out of the church. The demon, distracted, seemed to take no notice of her. Another unnatural jerking motion pulled her blade upwards. She continued slowly walking forward toward the raging beast. She spoke, but the voice was not her own, it seemed heavily strained and unnatural, almost inhuman. "Will you forgive me?" The words rasped from her lips coldly, and she seemed to watch the monster for a reply.

 

[Epsir]

She felt the priest slacken noticeably in her grasp and immediately feared the worst, craning her neck to try and get a look at the man's face. There was no telling how fragile their physical forms were in death, she doubted he was dead but perhaps his fighting spirit had finally left him. Instead of answers, she only found herself further jostled as Oliver sprung to life and discarded the torn-away piece of the demon. The way it writhed made her skin crawl, she had never had a stomach for worms and other creatures of the soil and more and more the vine reminded her of one. She dearly hoped they had no capacity to burrow before looking back to Oliver, who had rounded on her. "Trick?" She repeated after him, confused as to what exactly she had done. Oh... There were more of the strange sprites from before, visible only for an instant, this time clearly drifting from where her hands had caught the priest. No doubt, the lights were her creation, though she had no idea of their significance. Nothing felt different. Oliver wondered aloud how they were going to kill the monster that was now rampaging loudly outside. The thought was a change of pace for the sister, who had endeavored from the start to simply lose as little as possible. Killing was not her profession, and while she instinctively wanted to say something soothing or encouraging she decided that silence was the most productive thing she could offer.

Her head turned as Anabel walked by, a look of surprise fixing on Vivian's face as her sword utterly destroyed the vine on the ground. A reaction to the metal? That was almost too fortunate, but at any rate, the girl had decided to pick up her sword and wield it. "Hey, be careful!" She couldn't stop herself from saying something, anything to the girl slowly walking out of the church. The creature outside had transformed into something nearly identical but somehow more horrific in its deformed range of motion. Any stray jump could have sent it careening into the small girl, and she doubted whatever effect the sword held would protect her from such a thing.

---

Really, it was the crunching that he couldn't stand. Lain's shoulders flexed with discomfort, a grimace forming on the man's face as the beast reoriented its torso and made ready to charge them. He didn't have time to stand around acting queasy, because it immediately came at them. At every turn its initial speed paled to the demon's true potential, it seemed to escalate its efforts without end. There wasn't anything he could do with his reach, he surmised that almost instantly as the vines around its body began to lash out wildly at their surroundings. Even if he got past its arms, continued to avoid the increasingly unavoidable amount of burning, probably toxic sludge laying around the battlefield, he'd surely be torn apart by such a bastion. He glanced aside at Vito, trying to convey some form of confidence but honestly only making sure they weren't about to run in the same direction, before sprinting aside and trying to stay clear of the beast's initial sweep. The way he saw things, their job hadn't really changed. Maulnar and Alana could continue to evade its attacks so long as either he or Vito held its attention at close range. What a horrible fucking plan to die for. One misstep, and he was sent reeling over the ground. He cleared one of the monster's frantic smashes by a fraction of a miss, his leap interrupted by the immense concussion of the blow and the ensuing spray of loose rocks from the craggy ground. The killer went sprawling over the ground, already feeling a warm trickle over his forehead as he hit the dirt. He pushed himself up onto his hands, figuring he had mere moments before it decided to strike at him again instead of one of the other group members, but the sight of a new party at the church shattered his concentration. He was stuck staring at Anabel, at the sword she held peculiarly up in the air. A chill ran down his spine, followed by a disgusting sense of familiarity as he vaguely recognized the look on her face, the new bearing that had overtaken the girl's body language. Death clung to her, the same way it hung around Vito and, most probably, himself to anyone else with a nose for killers. With legs failing him, he resigned to watch and see what exactly she was doing outside of the church.

 

[ArmoredScout]

The creature had blown itself into a full on fury, those tendrils uncoiling and flailing madly about. So, he thought smugly to himself, eyes widening with glee as he watched that monster begin to lurch towards them at an increased pace, this is what the wyrm hunters felt like. Fairy tale heroes never felt fear, they felt...

He took a few quick steps backwards to reorient himself as he watched the smug youth sprint off to the side. He made sure he had plenty of room to move himself, glancing about, looking for an opportunity. The new movement and manic flailing was a good sign. If nothing else, the creature was only acting on instinct, and that meant it could be corralled, if not lead by the nose towards its doom. He gripped his ax in both fists, grinning behind that mask, sweat trickling down the small of his back and his tensed up body. The cliffs were to his right, and this creature wasn't the brightest torch in the bundle. It wasn't thinking, so it most likely wouldn't be listening, if such a thing even had capacity in a calm state.

"Old man," He called to Maulnar through a jaw that didn't want to open all the way, "Do you think you could brew up something with those hexes of yours that could give this beast a shove?" In truth, he didn't give a damn what the old man could do, what was more important was luring the beast away from his new partners while one of the more mentally savvy individuals could pull a plan out of the crews collective ass. He squared his shoulders, sizing up that monster once again, that thin sheen of smog darkening again. The shine pouring out of his eyes seemed to light up the eye holes of his mask as he angrily screamed, "COME ON YOU GUTLESS WRETCH! YOU CAN'T HAVE WHAT YOU CAN'T CATCH!" He slapped the flat of his ax against the back of one of his gauntlets to make a little more noise, and he began to quickly back towards that cliff, checking his back occasionally to ensure he wouldn't simply topple overside alone.

It was elation that the heroes of the old tales felt when they fought beasts, freakish shaman or wizened old wizards. He was riding a battle high again, full force. He hadn't felt this way since the crossroads where he'd lost the Rout. It was a fury rising in his throat, a thumping heart and a harsh burning from inside his gut. It made him feel alive, staring death down with such swaggering belligerence, and he let out a harsh, choked laugh as he fought back the urge to bash his helmet with his weapon. Wanted or not, he knew instinctively that that monster would come running, and he had to be ready to move. These kids might not need me, but I'll be damned if they'll be rid of me so easily.

 

[Majem]

Maulnar moved aside as soon as his scythe hit the beast. He knew it would focus its attention on the attacks on its back, but he hadn't thought it would've resorted to such violent means of turning around. Maulnar had seen some animals with limited shape-altering abilities, but this thing, these vines could probably take on any shape. Or was it the ooze that kept the beast alive? Questions Maulnar shouldn't be asking himself right now.

"Old man." It wasn't very loud, but enough to catch Maulnar's attention. A spell to give the beast a shove, huh? That he could do. Vito was going to lure it to the cliffs, then. That could work.
"Yes, my boy. That I can do, just tell me when." Maulnar said in response to Vito, unsure if the man could hear him or not. A gust of air could do the trick, but for it to have enough force to shove something of that size would take time. More time than they may have. Nevertheless, he had to try. Raising his hands once more, Maulnar motioned gently with his hands, waving them around in the air. At first it seemed pointless, but slowly it became apparent that the air was following his motions, flowing into a ball hovering over his head. A ball filled with compressed, swirling air. But it needed to be bigger. Maulnar continued his motions, making the ball of air grow.

With his gaze fixed on the beast and his attention on Vito's command, Maulnar missed Anabel walking out the church.

 

[Moogle-Girl]

The more the monster was attacked, the more clear it became that the sludge encasing it was extremely corrosive, making Alana glad that she hadn't attempted a physical strike. She'd already died once; losing her arms completely on top of that didn't sound very pleasant. Enraged by the attacks thrown at it, the monster twisted itself around, producing an ungodly crunching noise that made Alana recoil. Her own limbs ached just listening to that hideous beast break and refuse all its bones, or whatever it was that passed for a skeletal structure inside that thing. She didn't have much time to think about it.

The monster gave a mighty sweep of its arm, and without the time or know-how to dodge such a huge strike, Alana was caught by it. The bubbling tar slammed into her side, and for a moment she felt like the heat had caught her on fire as she stuck to the monster's skin and was ripped back off. She flew across the rocky bluff, tumbling as she landed. Blindly she reached out with her gloves, dragging the spikes on her knuckles along the ground to slow herself down, and with her jaw clenched so tightly that it felt like her teeth might shatter, she came to a stop just before reaching the edge of the cliff. She couldn't tell the extent of her injuries. Her adrenaline was pumping too hard for her to feel any pain.

Alana was now about a hundred yards away from the others, opposite from where Vito was trying to lure the beast. She stood without any concern for the cracking of her burnt skin and fractured bones, the ocean pounding the bottom of the cliff behind her, or the continued efforts of the rest of the group, especially the small girl carrying a sword that seemed much too big for her. Now it was personal. With a scream of war loud enough to rival Vito's bellowing taunts, Alana began fiercely punching the air, small blasts of dark energy flying from her fists at the edge of each strike. The volley was aimed at the head of the creature that still dominated her field of vision with its unearthly size, her attacks swift and unyielding.

 

[DrowsyPangolin]

The hulking monstrosity let out a shrill screech as it turned toward Vito. The warrior's taunting seemed to have drawn the full force of the beast's ire. The vines wrapped about its body rose around it like wriggling tentacles, the sharp points of their thorns tearing through the air as the creature braced itself to charge. Alana's volley of dark magic slammed into the side of the creature's head, sending chunks of thorn-covered vines flying to the ground. The red light beneath the vines glared brightly through the new hole that had been opened in the side of the titan's head, and for a moment it turned toward the sorceress, letting out another roar. Vito's goading, however, seemed to draw the beast's attention, and, as if magnetized, the giant plunged forward toward him, its limbs tearing at the loose stone beneath it as it ran.

The monster's flesh hissed and bubbled as it charged, evidently overtaken with a primal and singular rage. For better or worse, the armored warrior had managed to make himself the sole target of the abomination's fury. It paid no heed as Maulnar prepared his attack, nor to the rather obvious injury it had incurred from Alana's barrage. Anabel's question remained entirely unanswered as the beast charged forward, shaking the ground with ever fall of its gargantuan limbs. It seemed vaguely akin to a bull, rushing forward with an anger beyond the limits of the human heart.



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Anabel stood in silence for a moment, her blade still raised above her as she issued her request to the savage beast. The monster, taking no notice of her, charged toward Vito. "Very well." Again, the words seemed strange and rough, a far call from the girl's typically soft voice. Without another moment's hesitation, she plunged forward, her cloak a streak of red as she dashed toward the demon. The air around her sword seemed to lash about violently, and one could almost hear a sound like screaming voices echoing out from the blade. An aura of bloody crimson seemed to engulf both the girl and the sword as she moved. She lept upward, passing under the charging beast and bringing her blade to meet its bubbling underbelly. The blade seemed to rip through the black ooze, and perhaps whatever semblance of a ribcage the creature had underneath. An inhuman smile crossed the girl's lips as she made the stroke, black tar raining down and burning holes in her cloak.


Unfortunately, Anabel's strike seemed almost as uninformed as their monstrous opponent's. She landed lightly on her feet just in time to hear the rushing wind of Maulnar's attack. The savage gale struck the demon from behind, sending it toppling forward over the cliff's edge, but the force of the shockwave sent the small girl flying as well. She landed somewhere between Alana and Lain, her sword landing a few feet away from her. She lay there for a moment before shakily pushing herself to her knees. A sharp pain in her palm led her to look down, and she noticed blood streaming from the hand that had carried her sword. She seemed bewildered, looking first to her hand, then to her sword, and then to the people around her. Her face grew pale, and her body began to tremble.



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Oliver watched as the massive being tumbled over the edge of the cliff. They had actually done it. A sound like screeching metal echoed from below, and again the ground shook. Maybe they hadn't. He motioned for Vivian to follow him, running out of the church. A glint nearby drew his attention: his glasses. He grabbed the spectacles, tossing them onto his face. Surprisingly, they seemed mostly unharmed, though a few scratches clouded his field of vision. His hat, also, had landed nearby, and he grabbed it before rushing to the cliff's edge. He peered over the edge. The demon had fallen a fair distance, but had dug its claw into the cliff face about half way down. The ex-priest shook his head. It wasn't over yet. The monstrous vines seemed to be wrapping around the stone. The demon was climbing.



In a split second, the man came to a decision. He waved toward the fog. "We need to run, now!" If nothing else, Vito and Maulnar's clever maneuver had bought them enough time to get away. He wasn't sure how much time that might be, but some breathing room was much appreciated. The fog was still dense, if they hurried, they might be able to escape into the shrouded forest below. He wasn't sure how well it might hide them from the unearthly abomination that now scaled the cliff face, but it was better than waiting for it. The monster seemed to have utterly refused the prospect of dying, but perhaps the damage it had incurred would slow it down. Again, the ex-priest motioned toward the fog. "Go! We need to get away from here!" The ground shook again.

 

[ArmoredScout]

Vito watched, bending his knees and moving himself a bit lower to the ground. Several bolts tore into the creatures head, and for a moment he feared that his distraction might be broken.. But the creature resumed its charge. The girl, Anabel, had accrued a courage more than even his own, cleaving at the creatures slithering, ooze comprised gut with her massive sword, a maneuver that had earned her a few holes in her coat, and the creature a scar that it simply ignored. He remained low, focused entirely on that monster. Closer, closer, closer still...

He felt the wind brewing behind the beast, and he tarried only a moment, arms still spread out at his sides, as if he were intending to catch the monster. The wind suddenly picked up, and he hopped to his left twice, before heaving himself as hard as he could out of that monsters path, watching as it was promptly blown overside by the combined force of its charge, and the hex that had been thrown at its back. His legs were caught in the draft, and he was sent spinning horizontally through the air, landing hard on his back and rolling a few feet towards the direction of the smartmouth, Lain. Coughing, he slowly rolled himself to a sitting position, he observed Oliver's rush from the relative safety of the chapel to the side of the cliff, and his response to what he had seen over the stormy edge.

Winded, he slowly got to his feet, stuffing his ax into the loop on his belt and jogged to catch up to Lain. In truth, he didn't feel so hot at this point, having been thrown a fair distance, but pain could wait. In turn, he felt like smarting off at the boy for his dodgy behavior, but he didn't have the breath, and he didn't think Lain would give a damn about the quip. Could he really blame the kid? He had at best a glorified and techy butterknife, and was very clearly out of his element. At best, the only person who could be considered to be 'in' their element was Oliver, and that was by occupational assumption alone. He hustled up a few steps and tapped the kid on the shoulder, nodding to him. "Good work out there, keeping your head. Most men I've known would've frozen up on the spot." He turned about to see what way Oliver was headed, and moved towards that pea soup-esque fog. "Hey, Lain, theres a torch inside my pack. You wanna grab it so we can try and keep some cohesion in the crew?"

 

[Epsir]

Lain was still wrapping his head around the entirety of the situation and the sheer force of the magics he had witnessed all in less than an hour after meeting an untimely end. It had seemed like a fluke from the start but there was absolutely no questioning that he had ended up in the wrong afterlife after all. Even the strange girl and her oversized sword had some superhuman feat in store, her and the latest combined effort to destroy the demon sending it toppling down to the sea. The monstrous sounds that followed told him that the creature didn't quite make it. He stood up, giving himself one last once over for the remains of the demon's caustic body and glad to see himself without any new wounds. By the time he had collapsed his sword and clipped it back behind him, he noticed Vito approaching rapidly. It was hard to tell if the warrior was truly any worse for wear under all of that armor, but his armor certainly looked as though it had been through a torturous battle and a long throw. His approach wasn't the only surprise, because his words left Lain standing silent, shuffling his jaw by little bits as he thought them over. He was not entirely sure if the warrior was trying to make some kind of joke, or scold him, or honestly congratulating him for spending the crucial moments of the fight kneeling winded in the dirt. He opened his mouth to speak, and found himself deciding immediately on new words. "You too, Vito," He concluded, locking his sword in place with another click-snap and returning his hands to his sides. He took the torch he was offered, and then realized he had died without a light on him and the device he held was far too old to carry its own ignition sleeve. He walked off with the unlit torch, towards one of the bubbling puddles of liquid stone. "You know, it's harder to see in fog when you shine a light on it. I don't know about you, but I'm usually against making myself a target. A blind target, in an unknown forest though?" Gingerly, and with as wide a berth as the length of his arms would allow, he dipped a sliver of the torch into the ooze and watched in amusement as the residual heat of the degraded demonflesh and stone set the rag alight. "I guess it's better than letting them all run rampant in there." He hoisted the fire over his head, and lead off after Oliver. It would look awfully stupid if his beacon was ignored, he realized, but knew that he was far past regretting this absurdity.

---

Vivian nodded meekly after Oliver's symbol, still reeling from the sight of Anabel's display. She ran along after him, stepping outside of the temple once more and watching the cliff where the monster had fallen with uncertainty. It seemed to be climbing back up the cliff, and she doubted that they could outrun it if it happened to crest before they were well out of sight. With a sigh, she conceded that the party of seasoned fighters probably knew their way around this better than she did. Her attention turned elsewhere, to the wounded. She could see Alana far off, perhaps scattered the furthest from the group by the battle, and she did not look to be in good condition. The risk of wearing nothing into battle was one thing, the risk of acrobatic confrontations with a melting creature over nothing but unsporting rock and rough soil was another. Her vision was poor, and she still winced for what she saw. Anabel was near to her, and crouched beside her discarded sword once again. "Mister Oliver the others...," She shook her head. "Ah, nevermind," Vivian said, and then broke course towards Alana and Anabel. The Sister's gait was uneasy over the dangerous grounds left behind by the battle, but she had already determined to make her way to those in distress. With one still standing, she found her way to the girl kneeling and bleeding beside her weapon. She knew precious little about her new trick, only that it had called Oliver's attention even in the middle of a battle. For a shaking girl on the verge of tears she could think of nothing better as she seized her bleeding hand at the wrist and sought the executioner's eyes with her own. "We have to go. Can you stand?" She gave the same address to Alana. "What about you? Can you run?"

 

[Ythania]

The moment the demon tilted back and began to fall off the sheer cliff face, something strange happened. One of the formless and idly hovering grey spirits seemed to detach itself from the group - a piece of fog turned humanoid form. It was small, approximately three feet in height with long arms and a fairly androgynous figure. Its featureless head contained the only unique aspect of its appearance - an erratically pulsating golden light, which flickered from a very dim brownish shade to a fiery bright golden hue every so often. The being floated over to the cliff edge and peered down it at the hulking behemoth below, tilting its head this way and that as it observed the demon's attempts to climb. Eventually it blew a loud raspberry at the monster and let loose a peal of childish giggling, excitedly whizzing around the group in a dizzying display of glee.

Once the spirit had calmed down, it made a series of clicking noises. It initially approached Anabel, Vivian and Alana and seemed incredibly interested in the blood from the young girl's wounds. "B̢̧̢̀ẁ͘e҉͡n͏̵̕ ̷͟͡͝ţ̶̴ǫ̵r̷̴̶͟ ̧́͘͞ń͞ą͡͠m̵̴͜͝ ̶̶͝f͏̴͝i̶͟o͝҉r҉̸̧̀̀i͡?͟͜͠ ?" it asked in a questioning tone of voice - but the words it used were distorted, regurgitated backwards and cut off at odd points, like it was simply repeating the sounds of a crowd of people speaking at once. It was impossible to understand what it was saying. "B̢̧̢̀ẁ͘e҉͡n͏̵̕ ̷͟͡͝ţ̶̴ǫ̵r̷̴̶͟ ̧́͘͞ń͞ą͡͠m̵̴͜͝ ̶̶͝f͏̴͝i̶͟o͝҉r҉̸̧̀̀i͡? ?" it asked again, waiting for a few moments before shaking its head. The spirit bobbed up and down on the spot, seemingly unable to use its limbs - or, at the very least, having much difficulty with manoeuvring its gangly little arms. Still, it attempted to communicate through gestures instead - first with an awkward, jerky little wave and then a beckoning motion.

The ghost did not wait for the wounded - it seemed to be highly energetic, a sharp contrast to the complacent drifting of every other grey spirit in the throng. After noticing the irregular flashes of the creature's light it stood out in the fog like its very own twinkling beacon, drifting at an incredible speed to catch up to Oliver, Lain and Vito. "Ey! Eyaaaa!" it cried urgently, wordlessly in an attempt to catch their attention as it passed. With a grunt and a push, the ghost split from the foggy crowd of ghosts and floated just above them. "Eeeeeyaaa!" it called again, waving its arms in the air. Then it twisted around and started flying towards a forest.

It was too fast to follow and briefly disappeared into the mists, abandoning the team for a few tense moments. Then, just as quickly as it vanished, the glowing light re-appeared and zoomed towards the head of the group so it drifted just a little ahead of Oliver. "T͠í̵̶͘l̵̛̀͘͝a̴̧͠w̷̵̸̢͠ n̸͏̴́̀i̛͞͝ ̕͢͜͡ớ͘͘͏h͘ ̵͘҉s̵̴y҉̷̴͟i̧͟͟͝ ą̵͞k̨̕͡͠͞ ̸̀͢͝b͏̕҉w͢҉̨̛e̸̕̕҉͞ m̸̛ ҉̷̨-̴̨͜ ̵̀o͞͏̀̕͝r̵̕͡҉a̧̕ ́͡m̡̀͘͜i͘҉l̸͢͞͝͝ ̨́t̸̡͘͢͝w̴̧͠ǫ̵͟r̴̷̸͘ n͢͟ ̴͝҉ţ̴́͢a̡͏҉̶͠l̴̨a̸͘͡ ҉̢͘͘͢l̶̴̴̀͘i͝͏ŗ͟á͠͝n̷̨̨͟͞i̢͟͠!̛͠ !" it teased, breaking off into another giggle and twisting so it floated on its back and watched the jogging humans with intrigue. It did not have to look where it was going, hands rested on its belly, feet kicking every so often as it guided the team towards the dark silhouettes of a dense forest. It clicked and whistled and let loose wordless shouts of encouragement - "Ay! Ay! Wheeeaaa!" - to continually alert the group of its presence and the direction it was floating in. It was clearly trying to guide the group somewhere, as it would always return and circle back to ensure that everyone was able to see it and kept gesticulating with lazy beckoning movements of its arms.

 

[Moogle-Girl]

Finally, clear success. Alana's attack had cleared a path through the monster's vine-covered head to the eerie light of life within. She didn't even flinch when the beast turned to face her and gave another ear-splitting roar. Time to finish this.

Just as she was starting to prepare the strongest spell in her arsenal, Anabel suddenly came flying towards her, propelled by a misaimed wind spell by Maulnar. "Whoa!" Alana yelped; her first instinct was to jump out of the way, lest Anabel collide with her and send them both plummeting over the cliff's edge. Anabel could still stand, but she was frozen in fear, unable to act any further. Alana huffed and stepped in front of the much younger girl, then turned towards the monster with her attack plan clear in mind -- but her target was gone.

Another one of its screeches rang out from below the cliff on the opposite side of the bluff -- had the monster fallen? Or was it knocked off? -- and Alana watched Oliver run to the source of the cries to investigate. From his tense, fearful stance, she could tell one thing: the monster wasn't dead yet. Just as well; there was no way she was letting anyone else win this battle for her before she had the chance to prove herself in front of Maulnar and all the others. "No way!" she shouted in response to Oliver's suggestion of fleeing. "We're winning! I can do this! Just get out of my way!"

Immediately her focus turned back to the monster that was surely about to come jumping back up onto the bluff any second now. As she walked a dozen steps towards the monster, clenched her fists at her sides, and focused, a small purple spark of light appeared on the ground near her feet and began whizzing around, leaving glowing lines in its wake. She was drawing the symbol for her most powerful attack: the Trinity. It was so named because it drew its power from three sources: Alana's elemental power, the energy in the air around her, and her very life force. Once the elaborate circular symbol was complete, she would release all her power in a single explosion that was sure to finish off the monster once and for all. It would almost certainly render her unconscious too, but she was confident that this would be the last attack she'd need.

The strange gold-glowing wisp went largely ignored. She couldn't afford to break focus now. This would be her only chance.