Fantasy ┌ spellsword ┘ Amaric Temple

[ERode]

Well, that went south real quick. From Leonel practically keeling over from the pollen to Symphony rushing in before any of them were in position to assist her from a range, the entire situation devolved into one that made it clear that the ‘cost’ of handling this particular encounter was getting a bit too high. If she went all out, perhaps this situation could be resolved, but on the other hand, they certainly weren’t aware of any of the capabilities of the mossmen until up to this very moment. Sap-spewing vines to ward off flames, body-transmogrification capabilities to turn into weapons, poisonous pollen that Leonel’s protective magic could do nothing against, and now seedshot that turned into vine-nets?

Ayn stepped further back as the seeds that bounced off her clothes erupted into a burst of entangling vines. Her blazing swords swept through them, white flame practically incinerating the seedlings, but it had given the mossman cluster enough time to move onto the next scheme anyways, with its vines extending into a fan that further scattered the pollen into the room.

Now, what was this situation called?

“Yup, this is unwinnable.”

Maybe they could force a draw if they pushed themselves to the maximum, but they would still be five floors deep in the Dungeon, with no way to easily or safely get back up. “Save your spell,” Ayn said, side-eyeing Heleni. “I didn’t see any eyes on those monsters to begin with. And Leo?”

She sheathed her own swords swiftly, the flames extinguished the moment the blades slotted into their scabbards. A quick stride carried her behind the armored man, and Ayn hooked her fingers around his belt.

“Leonel, we’re pulling Symphony and getting outta here! Ready? Threetwoone!”

After all, it wasn’t like the mossman cluster could leave this place. Retreat, regroup, and rethink. This was no duel, and the mossmen proved themselves to be dishonorable first! Seriously, those brainless creatures were asking for it with that kind of behavior. Next time, she was going to bring a fan!

…

And more likely a lot of oil.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (5th floor)
DATE—Early Summer
TIME—1101

​

Just as the benefits of their Unleash spell were fading, the trio of Spellswords on the clear side of the room were granted a brand new foe. Two of them, actually. They first made their presence known with the eerie chitter of their high pitched whines, eerily human in comparison to the mossmen. Out from the bottom most pod crawled two tiny creatures, each smaller than most shepard dogs, both with large bug eyes and a twisted form. At first glance, even in the dim light, they appeared gaunt and diseased. Their forms slightly more human in that it appeared as if there was a rib cage, but no skin. Thin wisps of green foliage came out of their body as if hair, twisted roots like horns, and a malformed face with no nose.

"Watch out! Those are immatu—" Markus warned, knowing precisely what these were and in a slight panic because of it. Immature treants. The arcane cluster must have been further along than he anticipated. Releasing these early meant it had already given up. Succumb to its death and released its children as a final act of preservation. These little bastards were fast and feral, powerful in their own right. Hardly comparable to a proper treant, but still more than he expected this group to handle.

They possessed a myriad of abilities the cluster did not. Their claws and horns were as hard as steel, their bite could drain mana, they could spew poison and spit acidic sap. None of which he had time to warn them of.

They shot out at Ayn and Leonel faster than any natural creature of the wood. Their speed wasn't blinding, no, but it was blurring. Like little wooden cannonballs with no cannon. It was possible Ayn and Leonel might have blocked or parried this initial burst but Markus was finished taking risks.

The eyes of the Paladin glowed a golden hue as he willed into existence a bright, vibrant wall of light given physical form in the clearest of crystal. Sanctuary of Light. A typical Paladin Spell, though it normally required more practice with the light and more affinity than a crusader. Something Leonel could probably learn to do and had likely seen before. It was much more rare for a crusader; their focus was often much more offensive. The wall itself was able to entirely halt both immature treants, creating a loud thud once their skulls rammed into the surface followed by several faint screeches from their claws trailing down the wall of light.

Meanwhile, the vines that Symphony was struggling against were already breaking in small batches. It wasn't quick by any means, but it loosened slightly more with each flex and movement. It meant she was in fact strong enough to break free on her own, it would just take time.

The fault was that the same crystal barrier that had prevented the attack had now immobilized the cable they intended on using. That plan wouldn't work so long as Markus maintained the spell. It put them in quite the predicament.

"That barrier only lasts a minute. I can't harm them; it's my curse. Leaving Symphony to them is probably certain death—their sap is acidic. She is metal," he said, urgency coating his entire speech, and his tone more even than it was gruff. He had shifted from the more relaxed, educational guide he seemed to be to a more assertive stance, and that carried over in his voice. For the moment, at least, the immature treants were continuously assaulting the wall, trying to break through. Symphony was not a concern.

"If you have any tricks left up your sleeve, now is the time to use them. Only their claws and horns are tough. Their core is inside their body just like a heart. If you can damage it, they die," he explained, being fairly certain at least Leonel would have something left in him. Markus was no fan of it, but the alternative would effectively put the entire situation on him. It also didn't actual eliminate the threats, only buy them time. Even for him, that was a blow to his pride. That, and it rubbed salt in the wound that was his curse.

@November Witch ERode @Haze- @Carolyn​