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Fantasy For my Family

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The golem fell one was having quite a time swinging its arms around like a child trying to hit a fly. A blue blur was ricocheting off its form and the ground, consistently hitting it with a massive crack of lightning each time. Slowly but surely, each impact was causing small fractures to form in the creature's skin. Valk flew back once more, sliding beneath a rhino fell one and sending a bolt upwards through it as he skidded to a brief halt. The golem was charging now, and his front seemed cracked just enough.


"Now Gurlock!"


A flash of light occurred behind the golem creature, which quickly formed into a rope of sorts. The golem found itself falling backwards as it's neck was caught, and its feet slipped out from under it. Before he had even hit the ground though, Valk already sat in the center of his chest


"Die one-hundred times . . ."


Valk willed his fists to move faster than the human eye could track, nothing but a mass of wind and flying electricity as he pounded into the creature's chest. In the span of seconds, he had hit the creature hundreds of times, all the while lightning flying from the impacts. Even when the thing hit the ground, he didn't stop, but continued. Several seconds after the impact, there was a sickening *crack* throughout the area as a massive flash of lightning broke through the sky. The golem creature now had a crater where its chest had been, and the red faded from its form as death overtook it. The dust settled slowly, and Valk walked out of the cloud, lightning flying from both fists. More fell ones were charging him at the sight of their fallen brethren. How much longer could he go after a stunt like that? Valk estimated he had maybe a few minutes left, at best. Better finish this quickly . . .


-----------------------------------


"Jaeger! That fallen B-class, go and assist with its demise!"


"Yes sir!"


Jaeger flew through the clouds, and aimed himself squarely at one of the creatures heads. He wouldn't be able to must the same force as a dive like this until he climbed back up above cloud level, so he needed to make this one count. Both of his arms flew out as he neared the massive creature, now pulling itself up, and his claws landed squarely in the eye of the center head. The creature reeled back one step and roared from the pest that was now standing on top of it.
 
Ryrax was barely paying attention to the C-class enemies he was fighting: he was focusing on Rudd's fight. To be honest, he could fight anything below B-class with his eyes closed - literally, because he could sense their movements both by smell and the "sixth sense" or "danger sense" that a fighter gets from experience. "Don't let up, kid!" he shouted at Rudd as he idly beheaded a snake fell one, "Don't hesitate. Don't give it a chance to even breathe!"


-----


Oliver was getting bored. Barely any fell ones were making it past the main group of mana risers, and those that did were way to easy to deal with. None of them had even survived one punch! While he was thinking that, the third B-class decided to rear its ugly head. Compared to the first two B-class it was tiny, only 15 feet in height. This one was a minotaur. It was clearly built for beating its foes to a pulp with its fists...a beast after Oliver's own heart, in a way. It lumbered forward slowly and deliberately, beady red eyes glaring at Oliver. He was all that stood between it and the Neutral Grounds. It snorted and stopped about twenty feet from Oliver. It stared him down, scraping its right foot against the ground, preparing to charge. It was trying to intimidate Oliver. Judging by how the young man was grinning and cracking his neck, it wasn't working.


"Alright, finally something to ease my boredom! Will you fare better than your underlings against me, the last and best Layfaire?" He inquired as he adopted a ready stance. There was an uneasy stillness for several seconds, and then suddenly the massive beast launched itself at Oliver, aiming its thick, pointed horns down at his face. Oliver steadied himself and pulled his right arm backwards...


"If you are able to weather this blow, you will have earned my respect forever! Do not avert your eyes, and take in the full glory of this blow honorably! I am the Chaos Hammer Monk, Oliver Montacus Layfaire III, and this is the HAMMER OF HELIOS!" He roared, and brought his flame-cloaked hammer arm slamming into the jaw of the minotaur in an uppercut. Another massive explosion later and Oliver stood in another crater. He stood up straight, sighed, and turned around, taking a few steps towards the Neutral Grounds before the minotaur came crashing down. Oliver turned to face it, somewhat surprised. It definitely had felt that uppercut but it was no where near dead yet. It stood up and roared in anger.


"Oho! You have definitely earned the respect of the last and best Layfaire! Now, shall we continue?" Without waiting on an answer, he charged, and the two engaged in a pugilist match for the ages. Punches, headbutts, knees, elbows...Oliver matched the minotaur blow for blow. He was smiling happily, now. Finally he had an opponent that could take a hit!
 
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Rudd knew not from whence his avian help had come, but he was not going to complain. While the beast was distracted, he took an opportunity to find himself a weapon. Cornering a large gorilla, he ducked its punches, slipped behind it, and swept its legs out from under it. As it fell, he scooped up one of its knees and, stepping back towards Goat Cheese the Ugly, he twisted his hips and sent the thing flying towards the head farthest from his new ally. These creatures were easy; he could use his conventional martial arts to take them down. He slipped between the forelegs of a charging rhino, thrusting upwards from the ground to pummel its belly, and hurled it towards the monster's closest kneecap. He had a stroke of luck, and the rhino's horn pierced flesh. Hearing a bleating roar, he supposed that it must have had some effect. Rudd elected to continue with this tactic, and leapt into the air. He used the falling rhinoceros as a stepping stone to loft himself further, and spun into a flying side kick towards the parted flesh. He felt bone, and, grabbing either side of the wound with his hands, thrust his second foot into it, twisting at his hips as if filling in a snake den. The gorilla-like leg bent in a way that just didn't seem quite right, and with a sickening crack that could have been thunder, it snapped completely. The beast began to fall, and Rudd fought ferociously to extricate himself from the now unsupported bed of flesh he found himself in, finding success just in time to avoid becoming jelly.


-----


Odom looked around him as he idly swatted C-class fell ones away with his new staff. This was beginning to bore him; he needed a new challenge to keep the battle fresh. His brow wrinkled; were there not supposed to have been four B-class enemies? He saw only three large ones, already occupied . . .


A voice sounded behind him. "You fight well. Did you truly have the wit to pull that stunt with the river, or was that an accident?" The voice sounded of grinding metal, and smelled of sulfur.


Odom turned slowly as the other fell ones backed away. "The fell one whispers," he said to the wind with awe. "Can he hear you, too, I wonder?"


Before him stood what might have been a man, if men had skin the color of igneous rock and smoke. The odd man cocked his head sideways, curved horns following its path. "To whom do you speak, mortal?"


Odom's awe turned swiftly to disappointment. "I suppose it was too much to hope. But--" he looked back towards the river, "this, too, could be fun . . ."
 
Terror would strike the fleeing populace of the old and weak, along with the children, as they raced past what was becoming a charred pile of Fell corpses, atop of which sat a man, covered in multi-colored blood, cackling madly. In his lap sat a pile of the dark sprites he called souls, which had been growing steadily since the Fell Ones began their attack. While the fleeing, or 'strategically retreating', risers removed themselves from the dangers and rigors of combat the felt unsafe in, they made sure to skirt far around the rapidly growing pile of dead Fell flesh, accentuated by a pair of 'B-Class' corpses adorning the pile, and represented on the pile of souls by two slightly larger souls.


As another wave of Fell fodder falls upon the mound, mostly D's and C's, Jyttera rose up, and leaped forth into the fray. As blood and limbs began to fly, Jyttera's rather unique adaptation of mana rising was shown to be thoroughly adequate for the job at hand. His long blade, a length of 'Soul-Forged' steel too thin and narrow for conventional use, glowed with an ethereal light, calling to mind an image of the dawning sun, cutting through the murk and mire of a fog-ridden morning as it sliced through flesh and bone alike. In seconds, a handful of the lesser spawn were vivisected, there malformed bodies still trying to perform functions that were no longer needed. In minutes, the majority of the 'D's' were little more than bloody piles on the ground, while the more clever ones performed the same 'strategic retreat' that Jyterra's supposed kinsmen performed shortly before.


When all that remained standing on the blood-drenched ground were the few 'C' class Fell ones, and Jyttera himself, the remains of twenty-some Fell ones lay in various states of dismemberment and life - what remained of it, at least. Turning towards the only remaining opponents, he immediately leaps forth, his mind lost for the time being in the chaos and madness of battle. The remaining Fell beasts faced him in synchronicity, and the 5 demons were faced with a whirling dervish of flashing steel and blood. As the two parties clashed, blood and limbs began flying, not all of which was inhuman. In the end though, the man stood amongst the mutilated corpses, covered in yet more blood and gore, as he began to collect the souls of the fallen.


After he had finished his gruesome task, he set upon another, just as disturbing as the last. He began dragging the bodies to the mound he had been resting upon, taking care to prop up the nastier demons as a testament to his skill with a blade. As he climbed back up the pile, anyone close enough to notice, which no one was, would have been shocked to see the various gouges in Jyttera's flesh to have already scabbed over, and seemed to be healing at an astonishing rate. Sitting down at the apex of the bloody hill, various smaller scabs, natural bandages, fell away to reveal naught but fresh, pink flesh.
 
Jaeger leapt from the goat head, flying through the fingers of a massive flailing hand. He watched the young man who had destroyed the creature's leg disentangle himself . . . a good couple of stories off the ground seeing how the creature towered over the battlefield. He grit his teeth and forced himself to speed up catching the man under his arms.


"You all right?"


The man was fairly plain, rugged even, not something he usually saw from the other families. He was jolted out of his own thought when the creature roared at the two of them and reached forward. Even with one of its legs unusable, its arms still stretched far enough to destroy a small block of houses.


"Oh shi--"


Jaeger hissed breath through his teeth, and let out a massive roar of his own. The shockwave was tinted with violet light, and looked fairly harmless--though the skin of the creature reaching for them revealed otherwise. It charred instantly, and large pieces flew off from the force.


-------------------------


The minotaur in front of Oliver had some reaction in his eyes before leaping to the side. A few hairs flew to the ground as a blade of wind flew right past him.


"Foul beast, devoid of reason, prepare to meet your end."


Aatron stood at the gate, in full battle gear. Wind was flowing around him like a cloak, and the blade of his naginata was surrounded like a hurricane
 
"Oi, what's the big idea?" Oliver exclaimed. "You're...Aatron, correct? Why would you interrupt our duel? Don't you think that's a bit rude of y-" he was cut off as the minotaur launched another assault. "It's also rude to interrupt people when they are SPEAKING!" he said, emphasizing the last word with a kick to the sternum. It sent the minotaur stumbling backwards but it didn't seem otherwise affected; Oliver's kicks were never his strong suit. Oliver was silent for another few seconds (a record, some would say) before he snapped his fingers on his left hand. "Ah, I see. You just wanted to have the honor to fight alongside me, the last and best Layfaire!" he said with a smug smile to Aatron. "All you had to do was ask. I will graciously accept your aid, in that case!" He adopted his combat stance once more, and launched himself back into his slugging match with the minotaur.


-----


"GYAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"


Ryrax was losing control, even with his eyepatch still on. The scent of fresh fell one blood and bone was everywhere, overwhelming his rationality. He launched himself at the 3-headed B-class, running up its other leg, hacking at it wildly. Ice crystals blossomed over every cut he made, causing further damage. It's right arm was reeling back from Jaeger's attack, and Ryrax leapt onto the forearm, stabbing his blade into the wrist joint. He roared like a beast for a few seconds, focusing his power, and finally a jagged crystal of ice pierced through the other side of the wrist. That hand was effectively useless now.


He leapt into he air, barely dodging the batting left hand, and hovered above the behemoth. His eye was bulging and his toothy smile was chilling. He reared back and laughed.


"GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PATHETIC BEAST! THE STRONG CONSUME THE WEAK! CONSIDER YOURSELF DEVOURED! GAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!"
 
Rudd's eyes widened. He alone understood just how literal his visceral comrade was being. He tapped his unnamed ally on the arms urgently, pointing with his other hand towards the monstrosity's central head. He had to end this quickly, or Ryrax was bound to turn equally monstrous.


"Get me a good position! If I kin' wring its neck--erm, necks, that is--then the cussid' ornery thing will be over and done with."


His lift did not respond audibly, but he found himself floating in a direction that more or less coincided with his directions. Good enough. Dropping from where he hung in the air, Rudd planted his feet beside the base of one grisly-haired neck. He gripped the fur on the back of the neck and the horn on his left, and, as if tossing a bail of hay, he thrust out with his hips, twisting his entire body and snapping the neck where he stood.


The creature clearly split its motor functions between its three brains (which the farmer had gathered to be small), as it began stumbling wildly, its other heads bleating in a panic. He fell from his perch on one neck, grasping desperately at the fur of the leftmost head as his feet dangled towards the ground. He managed to set his feet, but as the earth far below swayed in a nauseating dance, he found that he could not gain the leverage he needed to break the second neck. Things were getting interesting.


He didn't like it when things were interesting.


-----


The two figures stood amidst a palette of the slain, staring at each other. Each was an oddity amongst their own kind, now pitted against each other in mortal combat.


Odom knew not what the foreign utterer was doing as it waited, but he himself was not standing idle. He had never believed in such practices--he must always be doing something. In this case, he was planning--and whispering. He whispered to the mana, and the mana whispered to the ground at his feet, and the ground to the bodies resting upon it. After all, even the dead were not deaf.


The fell one twitched, and slowly he looked towards his feet. An arm was grasping at his ankle, the body attached to it still lifeless. Other hands quickly began grasping as well, and a massive solitary arm of rock began dragging itself along by its fingers. The fell one leapt away from the fragile limbs on the ground, but the golem's hand grasped it and held it firm. At the same time, a mound of bodies was drunkenly climbing upon itself, forming a grotesquely writhing limb, reminiscent of an eel. Odom, sweating, staring at nothing in particular, whispered from the ground to the bodies, and urged them to the river, where the tree was still floating. The eel swarmed, reaching into the water and whipping back towards the literate one with a massive club of leaf, bark, and solid redwood.


The fell one had no time to display his fascinating gift of speech as these baffling events took place. He burst from the mighty fist that held him not long after it had him in its clutches, but was too late to escape his rapidly approaching organic doom. The tree came crashing down, the bodies which wielded it falling atop it in a tumultuous avalanche of flesh.


Odom leaned against his staff. To whisper to so many at once was not easy; he felt as though he had sung an aria at the finish of a marathon. He quietly thanked the deceased for lending their now empty husks, and also the tree, for sacrificing itself to save the land which had grown its seed.


And then the tree moved.


This was strange. The world around him had always whispered back, but it had never spoken somatically before . . .


A hand of molten materials unknown threw itself out of the pile, tossing aside the seemingly weightless tree atop it, now burning where it had been gripped. The rest of the creature followed, standing upright. His eyes spoke of an angry pride, and he gripped at the left side of his head, where one curved horn had been devastatingly broken.


"Impressive, mortal . . . but you are not the only one who can raise the dead."
 
Jaeger flew around the three-headed fell one in a wide arc, watching the thing stumble while the rugged one held on for dear life. One head down, two to go. Jaeger climbed briefly before launching himself back at another one of the heads. The same one he'd gouged the eye out of earlier. His lips parted into another mana-scream, tearing flesh from the creature's face, before plunging back into the bloody mess that had been the creatures eye. Within a few seconds, a blood-red claw emerged from within the creature's skull, shortly followed by the rest of the young man. He quickly leapt over a shakily thrown hand, shooting straight up into the sky again.


------------------------


"Your presence is little more than an annoyance. It is the red beast that concerns me."


Aatron's gaze didn't waver from the roaring abomination in front of him. The naginata in his hand fell slightly from his grip, only one end of the ribbon tightly gripped.


"Do not be blinded by confidence."


As the minotaur started to charge, Aatron leapt on top of the haft of the naginata, and was surfing through the wind like it was a hoverboard. He zipped right past the beast, a small cut forming on its shoulder from the pass.


"Well, lets see just how many of those you can suffer before you bleed out."


-----------------------


The talking fell one raised his hand a moaning surrounding him that seemed to come from the depths of the earth itself.


"Send my regards to Oblivion."


With a single red pulse, the husks of fell ones ran towards Odom. But they were more than living remains, unlike what Odom had done, they pulsed with a virulent power . . . too much of it in fact. A couple of the remains exploded as the horde charged at the Mana Riser, and it seemed the others would not be far behind.
 
Luckily for Rudd, Ryrax loved it when things got intersesting. Unfortunately for Rudd...Ryrax loved it when things got interesting.


Ryrax roared another bestial roar, plunging straight into the mouth of the beast. It seemed puzzled for a moment, but then immediately began screeching in agony. After another few seconds, the blade of Ryrax's sword burst through in between its eyes, and the eyes themselves became frosty and cold. Ryrax channeled his ice magic intensely, and the eyes burst as they erupted into ice shards and jagged crystals. It was quite a grisly sight. Ryrax burst out from between the newly-vacated eye sockets as the beast started to come crashing to the ground, all three heads rendered lifeless. He sheathed his blade and whipped around the falling carcass, snatching Rudd off of his perch. He skidded to a landing just as the earth shook from the corpse that had just landed. He sat the country boy down, and looked him seriously in the eye. His manic expression was suddenly replaced with a deadpan gaze, his eyes narrowed slightly from a sense of anxiety. "We need to wrap this up quickly," he said quietly so only Rudd could hear. "I don't know how much longer I can hold myself in check. It wouldn't do for my little secret to be found out, after all."
 
Rudd could not have agreed more. "Workin' on it, buddy. I don't want to see that any more than the rest of these poor sods." He glanced around, searching for another key point of the battle, and found his eyes immediately drawn to the tree flying through the air.


Now, Rudd had never considered himself a master of botany, but he figured he knew enough to be sure that trees weren't supposed to do that . . . he started running in that direction. He almost paused, wondering if there was any need to assist, until he saw a host of fell ones rising from the ground. That, he was certain, was not natural. He dug his heels into the ground, throwing himself with abandon towards whatever lay across the river.


-----


Odom liked playing with anyone, but he knew when it was time to go home. Whatever this speaking abomination was, it was no B-class cretin, and it could clearly whisper to the mana as he did. This was not a game he could win. He turned his tail to the fell one, swatting running corpses out of his way as he did so. They seemed denser than before, although whether this was due to some strange magic or his own fatigue he did not know. He found a suitable rock, and spun again to face his foe--and his salvation, which lay in the army beyond. That last stunt was a stretch, and he was running out of energy; he had to make this count.


He shoved the front of his branch-staff under the large rock before him, and used it as a pivot into a flying kick, striking down the risen dead which grasped at him. He stomped on the ground as he landed, and loose stones animated themselves with the abandon of jumping beans, piercing feet and causing the shambling forms to fall once again to the ground. He took his opening and leapt upon the end of the staff suspended in the air. It bent beneath him, a fulcrum to his weight, and the tip dipped to touch the dirt beneath him. Mana tingled from the tips of Odom's hairs through his belly and down to his toes, where it seeped into the branch. The staff had served him faithfully for this battle, but it was time to say a final farewell.


"Thank you, friend."


The branch whipped back upon itself with the vigor of a striking snake, sending Odom flying into the air. He performed a flip with a full twist, turning to face his intended destination. The front lines drew closer, but as he soared directly over his new foe, a flock of vultures with the wingspans of men flew from beneath to intercept him. He tangled with them briefly in the air, but what few feathers they discarded were only weapons enough for him to extricate himself from their grip before he plummeted towards the ground below, where the fell one was looking him right in the eyes, arms open and teeth grinning. The closer Odom got to the ground, the stronger the smell of sulfur grew. He reached for the sling at his hip; this may become his end, but he wasn't about to go without playing at least one more game.
 
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Ryrax followed Rudd as they sprinted to whatever beast lay ahead. As they approached, Ryrax could smell it before they could see it...and whatever it was, it was setting off his danger sense. They finally arrived and saw the monstrosity. Ryrax stopped dead in his tracks, catching Rudd by the shoulder. His grip was extremely tight, holding Rudd back with him. "Rudd..." Ryrax said, his eye slightly wide with...fear?


"That...is an A-class."


He stared in apparent awe at the fell one in question. He'd only ever seen a fell one of that caliber once...that night when he came across Jaeger fighting one. That night he knew he wouldn't stand a chance...but that was ten years ago. Ryrax's eye widened more and his manic expression returned, toothy grin and all. He was shivering slightly as his vicegrip on Rudd's shoulder tightened. "Keh...This is bad...even if I could afford to hold back, I'm at my limit..." He kicked off the ground, launching himself wildly at his quarry like a crazed starving wolf. He brought his right index and middle fingers over his right eye, and made a downwards swiping motion, dispelling his eyepatch. There was nothing holding him in check anymore. With a howling roar, a shockwave of raw power exploded from him the moment his right eye was uncovered. The temperature of the surrounding area dropped dramatically, and it began to snow. The A-class turned to him, and extended its right arm, blocking Ryrax's slash. The collision created a small crater in the ground, with the two monsters in the center.


The A-class seemingly scoffed. "Foolish man. You come willingly to face your mortality."


Ryrax's response was much less communicative. In fact, he spoke only a single word, his voice more of a growl than true speech. "EAT."


-----


Oliver launched another combination at the momentarily distracted minotaur, sending it staggering backwards a few more steps. He didn't seem to have even acknowledged what Aatron said as he continued his assault. He wasn't giving the B-class any time to recover.
 
Jaeger landed, panting, as the creature fell down dead. The two from earlier had already gone charging down the battlefield. He was aching from the continued harsh flight, but something was off. Something was overwhelming the edge of his senses. He didn't know what it was, but whatever it was was incomprehensibly powerful . . . and it seemed vaguely familiar . . .


---------------------


"Foolish mortal. Let your base desires be your last thoughts."


There was a flash of red light from the creature's eyes and all Mana risers in the immediate area flew backwards.


"Your lives have no purpose, begone."


The creature's outstretched hand started to glow, but something registered in its eyes before it brought its arm up. A blur blue flew past him, creating sparks against the light. The blur instantly flew back at him, but was repulsed by a flash of red light. The blur in question turned out to be Valk, who skidded to a halt through the dirt. There was a sheen of sweat over his open skin, though electricity still crackled through him
 
Ryrax didn't even touch the ground, thanks to his telekinesis. He backflipped in midair to steady himself from the repulsion blast the A-class had given off and rocketed towards it. He launched a flurry of ferocious slashes, stabs, and even kicks, but each attack was blocked with ease. He roared in frustration and did a massive downswing on the creatures right forearm as it brought it up, managing to leave a shallow cut that crusted over in crystalline ice. A faint blue was now coming from his right eye as his primal rage grew. The previously gentle snowfall was escalating to match: it was now a heavy downpour of snow, and a chill wind had picked up.


The A-class's facial features scrunched slightly in apparent annoyance, and pointed its open palm at Ryrax. Another red flash of light later sent him careening towards Rudd. He righted himself in the air and dug his heels into the earth, leaving miniature trenches as he skid to a halt a few feet to Rudd's left. The young man looked over to his comrade, only to take in the visage of a beast. Ryrax's lips were pulled back in a snarl, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed in apparent rage. He gave a growl like a rabid wolf. His hand that didn't wield the blade was open and the fingers angled, like he was ready to slash with his nails. He stood in a bent, stooping posture, like a hunter on the prowl, his weight shifted slightly onto the balls of his feet. Most unusual was his right eye: at this distance Ryrax would be able to see the runes that circled the iris: they were spinning slowly as his eye gave off the faint blue glow.


Ryrax kicked off and redoubled his assault. He didn't show any signs of slowing down; on the contrary, one got the feeling it was only going to escalate if this didn't end soon.


-----


Oliver was still engaged in his pugilist match with the minotaur when he started to feel the pulses of energy coming from nearby. They were faint but definitely formidable...and whatever was over there definitely didn't feel like a B-class. The minotaur reared back in anger and pain, it's body covered in cuts from Aatron and bruises and dents from Oliver. It gave a roar and launched itself at him in a last-ditch effort to kill the man. "I've enjoyed our fight thus far," Oliver quipped, "but I get the feeling I am desperately needed elsewhere." He could tell that the minotaur was on its last legs. He ducked under the minotaur's charge and leapt upward, delivering a knee to it's chin. While in midair and with the minotaur's head still on his knee, he brought his hammer arm's forearm crashing down on the top of its forehead. A sickening crunch resounded as its skull caved and it slowly fell to the ground, limp. Oliver stopped to catch his breath for a few seconds before looking over to Aatron. "Now that this one is out of the way...we should probably be seeing what all the commotion is about!" Without waiting for a response, he took off running to join the others in the fray.
 
He could feel it, even at this distance. A force had appeared, as if a magic summoned it from the aether, a well of power so dense and deep, its presence was made know to all who knew what to look for. Souls half-packed away, a crazed grin, having slipped from the bloody visage of Jyttera, returned in full force. Finished packing, he runs swiftly towards the feeling of power he was sensing, occasionally flashing out with a sudden strike to decapitate a lesser fell one.


Not so much arriving on the scene of battle, as leaping upon it, Jyttera leaps from behind one of the last pieces of cover hiding his presence with a heavy downward slash. The Fell One, being to sensitive to combat, pivoted quickly, and brought an arm up to block the shining steel. A mighty 'THWACK' is heard to ring out, as Jyttera's blade slices through muscle, and finds itself stuck in the bone of the monster's forearm. Shock, even through the crazed battle-lust, was evident on Jyttera's face, stunning him long for the beast to get a powerful strike in. Landing hard upon the ground, the clearing erupted in a truly monstrous roar, as the pain of the bladed strike truly fell upon the fell beast, and while its healing was incredible, the arm would not heal while the blade was still in it.
 
Rudd wasn't sure of what to do; his father had given him wisdom on plowing, not fighting denizens of the demonic realm. However, quickly glancing between his comrades, he realized that he had to do something; his old man had always told him that not deciding was the worst decision at all. He licked his lips, swallowed dryly, and licked them again. He tested the earth beneath him, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, shifting from side to side. Then he leapt forward.


He knew that he couldn't hurt the thing; if Ryrax wasn't doing any good, he wouldn't either. But he did know his way around just about every grappling art ever studied, and he figured that if he couldn't take the monster down himself, he could at least make sure that someone else could. He feinted a strike at the creature's head, then fell forward to grab at its knees. This too, however, was a feint, and as the creature brought its knee to bear at Rudd's face, he fell even further to his side, slipping around to the monster's back, and wrinkling his nose as he pinned it in place. His face was in what he supposed passed for the thing's hair. It did not smell pretty.


Rudd knew that he had the advantage; the pin he was using was impregnable. Even still, he found himself bringing every last ounce of his strength to bear as he fought to keep the 'A-class' fell one in place. It writhed beneath his arms with a power he had never felt, and he knew that he could only keep this up for a few moments before he'd have to release his grip. He hoped that the others could think of something before then.


-----


Odom rejoiced internally, for it seemed that the whims of fate had elected to save him. As he plummeted towards his impending doom, a host of allies came from out of his eyeshot to distract his foe. In the meantime, he was still heading towards it at terminal velocity . . .


As he reached the foul whisperer's head, he wrapped his sling around it, and, whispering to it through his fingers, it stretched incomprehensibly far. This allowed Odom to stretch out his free hand and catch the dislodged femur of some poor beast, the sling slowing him to a stop just before he collided with the earth. It then snapped back, bringing Odom to bear at his foe with the graceful haste of a striking snake. The fell singer, pinned for just the right moment by--was that the simple boy he'd met earlier? What a jolly coincidence--had no time to react as the black bone in Odom's hand came flying at its face, an obsidian dagger on direct course with its crimson eye.
 
Something within the fell one's complexion--changed. The calm expression faded, and his eyes shifted to blood red. For a split second, time seemed to stop, as a ripple flowed through the immediate area . . . and the next there was a small crater with the fell one in the center. Where blood flowed from him, blood red tentacles were growing, and everyone had been at the very least pushed back, while others were seriously injured. Valk shook his head to clear it, and charged straight at the creature's head . . . and found himself punched in the gullet straight upwards. He flew above the treetops, releasing lightning as he went. The fell one licked its lips as he pulled the blade out of his arm, that was now ending in a menagerie of tentacles.


"I see you wish you lives to be over. So be it."


The arm was stabbed into the ground, and Ryrax was engulfed by several blood-tentacles.


"Let us start with the mad one shall we?"


------------------


Aatron shook his head and blasted into the stratosphere. He was certain the clan leader would need to be called. That energy was not that of any B-class he had encountered before . . .
 
Ryrax crashed into the surge of tentacles and was soon overwhelmed. He was thrown to the ground as the crimson members began bludgeoning him. He seemed defeated but another shockwave rocked the area as he burst into the sky, leaving the ground and tentacles behind. He snarled and charged straight at the A-class only to be caught by the blood tentacles again. Now he was held by his wrists and ankles a meter off the ground and about ten meters from the A-class. He struggled and roared in rage, but he was caught fast for the moment.


At about that time, Oliver came charging onto the scene. "What the hell is that...?" he muttered as he saw the monstrosity before him. Not that it mattered: whatever it was, it was an enemy. That was enough for Oliver. "I do believe you have my comrade there, you brute!" he shouted as he leapt into the air, preparing to acquaint this fell one with his hammer arm. Unfortunately it seemed that no introductions were necessary as the A-class batted Oliver out of the air with a pair of tentacles. Oliver defensively rolled as he hit the ground, righting himself in a kneel.


"More cattle arrives to be slaughtered," the A-class spat at Oliver.


The Layfaire blinked. "Cattle...?" he said questioningly. He rose and his entire form became cloaked in a raging inferno. "I am no beast of burden, you ignorant demonspawn! I am Oliver Montacus Layfaire III, the Chaos Hammer Monk!" He shouted, jabbing his left thumb to his chest. "And just so we are clear, the only thing being slaughtered here will be YOU!" he said, charging the A-class like the most prideful fireball ever to exist.
 
Rudd eyed the tentacles with suspicion. His first instinct was to make a pincer attack with the bold and fiery one, but there was no way either of them would make it. Particularly not after that last attack--Rudd's limbs and chest were burnt raw simply due to his proximity to the blast. He tested his left ankle. Definitely twisted, possibly sprained. There was no way he could waltz his way around the crimson members shooting out of the ground.


But the Layfaire . . . perhaps he could, with some help.


He waited for the opportune moment, and as Oliver was about to be taken down by a mass of tentacles, he threw himself at them with his good leg, tangling with them in a merciless, if hopeless, attempt to subdue them. Maybe it would amount to nothing, but it should have at least gotten the hammer monk a little bit closer to their monstrous adversary . . .


-----


Odom stared at the rolling red clouds above, stunned. He went through the recent events in his head. He was flying, he was falling, he was springing, he was attacking . . .


Oh yeah. Then he got pummeled. He had almost forgotten.


He glanced up and across his chest at the scene before him. The area had been pretty well cleared; there wasn't much for him to wield as a weapon. This could be problematic . . .


Ah, but the sling! It was still in his hand and, remarkably, intact. He picked up an errant stone, placed it in the pouch, and spun it over his head. Taking aim at the mass of tentacles that had engulfed the raging blond madman, he slung his bullet at an inconceivable velocity, shearing through three of the members. They fell to the ground with a dull thud, kicking up dust as they continued to writhe with an eerie life. He loaded another bullet as more tentacles sprung from the ground to take their place. This was going to take a little bit more strategy.


This time, when the dismembered tentacles hit the ground, he kept them loaded with a trace of mana. He urged them to fight for him now, and although he felt a resistance he was unaccustomed to, they did receive and obey his request, lashing out at their fellows which tormented the man in the white coat. The progress was slow, but Odom was almost certain that he could see the tentacles being removed faster than they could be replaced. He kept at his stubborn strategy, hoping that his vicious ally could do some damage to the enemy if he could just reach him.
 
"RRROOAAAAAAHHHH!!!" Ryrax roared as he struggled against the members. Suddenly he was aware that their grip was weakening. He glanced down and realized that someone was aiding him. If he had been fully mentally "there" he would have noticed that it was Odom. With a guttural growl he tensed his body and sent a shockwave of telekinetic energy, finally breaking free of the remaining tentacles. He wasted not another moment as he flew at the A-class's right flank, ready to slice and dice...


Meanwhile, Oliver had just leapt over Rudd, who seemed to have jumped in front of a tentacle swarm for Oliver's sake. "Well met, young man!" The Layfaire boomed as he soared through the air straight at the A-class from it's left. He brought both arms over his head, ready to bring them down like twin flaming axes onto the torso of the A-class.
 
The fell one did not grimace or shriek . . . but grinned. There was a loud *pop* as the tentacles around him condensed . . . and then he was gone. He reappeared roughly 20 feet away from where he had been initially, but now the two characters had to act fast or ram straight into each other.


--------------


Aatron flew through the air, trying to locate where the massive energy source was, and seemed to locate it beneath a small flash of lightning. Wait, was that lightning? Or a person? He didn't think on it much more as he was buffeted by two sudden gusts of wind. No--not wind, but two men. Each heading strait toward the disturbance.


-------------


The fell one's eyes flickered slightly as two massive clouds of dust appeared behind him. Two men had landed within the crater that had been made, one of them with Valk slung over his shoulder. The one carrying Valk was a giant of a man, easily seven feet tall, and wore nothing but a set of leather pants and some large necklaces. His hair was the same white as Valk's, and was kept in a grizzled mane around his head. The other man was relatively normal in size, but had a massive chain wrapped around his right arm. His hair was a vibrant purple, along with his eyes, and tattoos flowed over his left arm.


They were the family heads of Travestos and Vejta respectively.
 
Rryax didn't so much as twitch as the A-class blinked away. He summersaulted in the air, landing feet on Oliver's falling fists, and used them to propel himself upwards. Once he'd gained some altitude, he shot towards the A-class.


Oliver's flaming fists came crashing down on the spot the A-class had recently vacated, creating a massive explosion which actually aided in sending Ryrax skyward. When the smoke cleared, he seemed slightly shaken. He had met eyes with Ryrax for a brief moment as they nearly collided...it was like looking into the glare of a feral wolf. He looked over to the boy called Rudd, whom he remembered belonged to the same family as Ryrax. "Rudd...your friend there..." he said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at Ryrax, "er...what the hell is he?"
 
Rudd tore what tentacles remained away from his bruised form, standing up as the last fell twitching to the earth. "There are some things," he drawled, "that no one else needs to know." He walked up to Oliver, his eyes glancing past his shoulder and towards the A-class heathen. As he came close, he put a hand on the hammer monk's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Trust me."


With that, he picked up his pace and limped past the boisterous Layfaire, heading once again directly towards the one place he had no desire to be. Sometimes, he wondered why he'd ever left the farm . . .


-----


Odom spun on his heel to face the whisperer. Seeing the two old men before it, he breathed a sigh of relief, bending down to rest on his haunches, his elbows resting on his knees and his sling spinning on his right forefinger. He watched, waiting for the right time to strike. He didn't blink, didn't twitch, he may have even forgotten to breathe--after all, if he missed his moment, the enemy would be gone, and that would be the greatest shame of all.
 
The fell one's gaze drifted to its side, eyeing the two newcomers almost hungrily.


"Ah . . . more mortals for the--"


The creature's face was distorted as the bearded man's fist collided with his face. The fell one smashed through three trees, but was suddenly halted with a look of surprise on his face. A black chain was wrapped around his ankle, leading all the way back to the other older man. With a shout, the fell one was thrown into the air, and then brought strait down into the ground. During this time, Valk's father sent his son gently against one of the nearby stumps, before running straight back at the creature. The fell one roared and shot red beams from his eyes, but the Travestos head merely shouted, and the beams were dispersed before his fist smashed into the creature's torso, a sick crack resounding through the area as every bone in the fell one's torso snapped. The Vejta head swung the creature with the blow, tossing him up into the air before surrounding him with dozens of yards of chains . . . and then snapping shut. A sea of steaming blood rain over the crater as the chains rolled back up the man's arm, and the travestos head let out a deep sigh before going back over and picking up his son.


"Oliver, head back to the gate. Most of the horde's dead, but we can't have any getting through."


The Vejta head walked up to Rudd, putting one hand on his shoulder.


"You did good son. Go get some rest."
 
Rudd could only stare in disbelief. Could he, too, be that strong one day? He hoped so. The need for that strength was the only reason he was there. He felt very heavy as he turned to face the arena from whence he had come, hobbling back towards it with all of the energy of a maimed racehorse. Maybe tonight, someone else could play the fiddle. All he wanted to do was sleep. And eat. He really, really wanted to eat. He wondered what his cousins were fixing up in the kitchen. As he limped his way towards the compound, he dreamed yearningly of red meat and ale . . .


As he thought of his, he realized that he owed his thanks to the people around him. He took a glance at the curious monk. He was willing to bet that a man like that would appreciate some home-brewed alcohol. With this in mind, he adjusted his lopsided gait and began slowly approaching the dark-haired lad.


-----


Odom let out a long sigh as his sling slowed to a limp halt. So much for taking his chance--there hadn't ever been one. He sprung to his feet, and wished he hadn't as his body rebuked him for the events of the past hour. He slung his limbs about, loosening his stiff bones before striding back towards the Neutral Grounds as if nothing had ever happened. The only hint to his disappointment--and pain--was that he did not look for a way to fly back first.
 
Oliver gave an earnest salute and charged off towards the front gate, sparing a moment's glance back to Rudd. What was up with the other Vejta...?


Ryrax had stopped in midair when the two leaders had assaulted the A-class. He hung back, silently and unblinkingly observing, but still in his hunched, nigh-feral posture. As the gory remains of the A-class thudded to the ground, he sprang on top of it, tearing the meaty mass to shreds with his teeth and claws (as when he is in this state, they could hardly be called 'fingernails'). What bites he didn't tear off with his mouth he shoveled into his maw, barely chewing as he devoured the shapeless corpse. In barely three minutes all that remained were the obsidian-like bones of the fell one. Ryrax's aura pulsed with a dark power and the snow-filled air swirled around him, making him appear like the epicenter of a blizzard. He rose to his feet and threw his head back, letting out an earsplitting roar that gave way to hysterical laughter.


"GRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"


The snowstorm immediately dissipated, and if not for the couple of inches of snow on the ground you wouldn't have been able to tell it had been near-blizzard conditions earlier. He seemed to regain some of his sanity as his laughter died down.


"Ahhh...that was delicious," he said, still staring up at the sky. His eyes seemed slightly glazed over as he licked his lips, savoring the flavor. "Pure ecstasy. Not even those B-classes can even compare to the flavor or texture." He swiped over his right eye with his first two fingers on his right hand, and his eyepatch was conjured into place. He was lost in his own mind at the moment...
 

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