Michael Adams
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Cheep!? 164
🕑 Added 2023-05-08 22:28:44 +0000 UTCTrying to hold onto Sasha’s back was a tall order at the best of times for Dachna, but he was doing a great job of it. He supposed that having ridden with Niko previously gave him at least some kind of leg up for the job over most of the others.
That was probably the only reason that he was able to hold on at all as Sasha’s body slid sideways across the ground, seemingly ignoring angular momentum entirely. With grit teeth and tightly locked legs, Dachna reflexively whipped his kama and chain upwards. Something that had always stuck with him in life was one simple rule; If you’re going to get hit, then make sure to hit back.
His newest weapon was the perfect tool for doing just that, even if it did apparently paint a massive target on his back.
‘Thanks so much, Skye.’ Dachna thought only half sarcastically, before refocusing on his target.
The Dawr Champion shimmered in the light, as if he were somehow diffusing through the area in totality. If Dachna had seen it elsewhere, he’d have assumed that it was some kind of mirror image, or a decoy-type pattern. Yet, he knew that the Champion was there, within the general vicinity of the distortion. At least… for the time being.
The many thrown darts and spikes that trailed after Sasha’s form as she performed her slide across the ground all originated from the distortion. Dachna pushed his essence through the chain and blade, activating his Lure pattern and passing on its effects into the item. The projectiles coming from the Dawr strayed from their ever-closing accuracy, once more widening the gap between a pin cushioned cat-and-rider and the hale-and-hearty duo that Dachna was much more interested in remaining.
Dachna felt his awareness split seamlessly, one end of his ‘vision’ coming from his position on the back of Sasha, with the other somehow coming from his weapon. Bonding with the weapon was surprisingly easy, even if it didn’t seem to rouse to full wakefulness easily. It was an odd feeling, to say the least, and he honestly had never expected to get his hands on a thinking weapon. Even a year ago, he couldn’t see himself standing – or clinging, really – where he was today.
‘Look, I’m doin’ it, Ma,’ Dachna couldn't help hearing the Matron's chiding voice in the back of his head, ‘Yeah, yeah, ‘Don’t get got with my big head.’ I hear ya.’
The kama sliced upwards through the air, taking his viewpoint dizzyingly through in a tight spiral, yet somehow not messing with his proprioception at all. The distortion of light and color vanished all at once just as the bladed edge of the kama swept around, chain reeling behind it, and Dachna pulled back the kama and chain with a vicious snap.
“There!” Sasha shouted out, pouncing forwards and leaving Dachna desperately clinging on once more. He put full faith in his comrade’s guidance and slung the full weight and speed of the still-recoiling weapon straight at where she was bounding. Dachna activated his first and most heavily adjusted pattern, once called Shimmer, taking effect not only on himself, but also on the weapon flying forwards. With what he’d come to learn about himself and about the world when he’d tiered up, he couldn’t help but seek ever greater things. That image of himself that the Pilgrimage had shown him wasn’t entirely one he’d been behind, but it was something that he could learn from.
Sleight Shift had replaced Shimmer, and its effects could range from minor to…
“Gotcha!” Dachna shouted vehemently as the kama was suddenly much farther ahead than it appeared to have been a moment before, hitting something with a solid, wet thunk and a guttural shout of pain. The moment he was connected to something else through his weapon, Dachna pushed his Lure pattern even harder. He had an idea, granted he wasn’t sure if it would work, but he’d damn well try.
Essence poured out of him, and Dachna knew he had only a single precious moment to pull off what he was going for. Fully half of his reserves went into slamming home across the weapon, with Lure breaking through the natural defenses of another living being's body and their innate resistance to taking on alien patterns.
The almost-invisible Dawr suddenly bloomed into existence like the most real thing around them, and everyone could see them. More than that, it was like they all needed to see this creature, it was just that important.
Dachna grinned and shrugged off the mental influence affecting his mind. It was his pattern, and even beyond that, he’d always counted himself as being made of sterner stuff than his kin.
“Try and hide now, you damned rat!” Dachna spat, even as the champion ripped the kama from its side. Before the metal even touched the ground, it keenly swept backwards through the air, glinting almost mischievously though the light before landing back in Dachna’s waiting hand, chain wrapped around his clothed arm.
The Dawr, for his part, had no time to react to Dachna’s words, given that Sasha was still bounding towards him across shadowed ground. Her stride consumed the distance between them in the span of a breath, and the Dawr snarled as he pulled on his essence and…
Its eyes widened in panic as it realized that Sasha’s gaze never left its body, reeling backwards just as Sasha leapt towards him. He slashed upwards with his daggers, one blade glancing off of Sasha’s hard-as-steel claws, with the other cutting upwards, getting just under her guard. The cut hit against shadow stuff, and in the momentary span of time managed to slice through the flesh of her side.
But then she was upon him in full, with shadows sticking them together and preventing him from maneuvering away. His pattern to blink into another location didn’t appear to be usable often, or perhaps had a very specific activation condition. Dachna wasn’t sure, but he was ready to sweep his kama outwards in a searching strike if he vanished from beneath his sabre cat companion.
Sasha’s fangs pulsed with power as she bit down, seemingly striking between the champions' waiting daggers and defenses as if they weren’t even there. The dawr gurgled as her long incisors cut into flesh, stuck fast as he slotted a dagger into her jaw between teeth, keeping them from closing all the way. Dachna felt Sasha’s muscles tense from the pain of the dagger, but he kept his focus, and when the Dawr was fully distracted, he leaned over and lashed down with his arm, utilizing Sleight Shift as he did so.
The kama raked savagely across the dawr champion's wrist, and in spite of being tier four, cut through their tendons like a hot knife through butter. Were it not for the fact that it was a tier four, Dachna figured he’d have a lucky goblin’s paw right then.
Even so, the Dawr’s grasp on their own dagger went limp, as did their hope of staving off the angry sabre cat bearing down upon him. Sasha bit down furiously and mercilessly, jaws clicking shut with a surge of power from the pattern in her fangs. Dachna could feel the harsh buzz of the huge expenditure of power, but he certainly couldn’t blame her for burning so much on this. They needed him dead now.
With a crunch, Sasha pulled up and away from the goblin, its head rolling away from the rest of its body with blood freshly pouring from the stump. Dachna didn’t waste any further time, and neither did Sasha, as both immediately looked up across the battlefield for their companions.
“I see Mithel and Charlotte,” Sasha said, pointing with her snout, “They appear to have the situation well in hand.”
Dachna looked in the direction she was gesturing towards, and was surprised to see the love of his life sitting atop the horrify— ‘Adorable, the spider’s adorable,’ Dachna tried to impress upon himself the words Mithel forcibly fed him. It was very hard to find that abomi—cute critter as anything but an arachnid, and if it weren’t for the fact that Mithel was absolutely entranced with it, Dachna was pretty sure he’d have tried to stab it or run screaming from it by now.
It did look cute at times. Right now, it was not. Six of its eight legs were upraised and twitching erratically, webbing slinging forth from its limbs with sounds reminiscent of the twanging of a crossbow. With each twang, a cackling Mithel loaded another flask of some variety – Dachna guessed she probably wasn’t even really checking them – before the spider, with equal glee, launched them like a bolt at the nearest cluster of Dawr that sheltered a shaman.
With his attention on them, he also saw what Sasha was referencing. The battlefield around them was a pitted, hell-frozen landscape with stinking plumes of toxic gas and acid where nothing dared to approach them. Allies and enemies alike steered clear of them, and Dachna couldn’t blame them. She was burning money with how fast she was using potions, which hurt Dachna’s poor-person soul considerably, but damned if she didn’t make massive devastation look easy.
Which was good, because he was pretty sure there were significantly fewer shamans around now. That was probably the only reason why they were able to finally catch the sneaky Dawr Champion.
Unfortunately, as he found the other remaining champions, he realized that the rest of the shamans had likely redoubled their efforts onto the toughest of said champions.
“How are you doing on reserves?” Dachna patted Sasha’s side absentmindedly.
Unbothered, Sasha huffed, “Well enough. Are you ready?”
“Ready as ever.” Dachna gave a lopsided grin before leaning down and grasping onto the tougher and thicker mane of fur around the top of Sasha’s neck.
From a dead standstill, Sasha bolted forwards with enough speed that Dachna was sure he’d have whiplash if he hadn’t been prepared for it. They darted through the skirmishes that had devolved from the battlefield, with many dawr actively pulling back towards the shamans in an attempt to protect them, but finding that they were cut off from each other whilst trying to do so. With Mithel and a few others assassinating them, the Dawr horde was quickly finding its ready supply of blood energy dwindling. There was still a hard core of Dawr, but they were rapidly becoming surrounded on all sides.
Dachna could hear Thorne bellowing out from somewhere on the field, but he couldn’t focus on that right then. They beelined through the fallen, ignoring skirmishes where their own side was winning, whilst occasionally giving an errant swipe or unbalancing shove where they could to even the odds. A few times, that was all it took, others, it only gave breathing room to back off. More than enough, all things considered.
They both winced as they heard the massive crack of a Warhammer connecting to Thokk’s rib cage. The stone-clad bear groaned at the strike and was sent tumbling away from the remaining Dawr Champion. Ronald and Stella had long dismounted it seemed, because they darted in and covered for Thokk the moment he was hit.
The champion’s body swelled with essence and blood energy as it kicked off of the ground, sending shattered flecks of rock and wood up in its wake. Its hammer was held overhead for a crushing blow and Dachna felt his stomach sink as he realized that he was going straight for the kill on Thokk, with the big sloth bear in no position to defend himself properly.
“You will not!” Ronald’s voice rang out with a strange kind of presence to it, powerful beyond what Dachna knew the man was capable of. Even from so far away, the big man suddenly seemed to stand taller on the battlefield, an opaque armor of white energy covering his form. It glowed, but only dimly, like the ripples of light through water. Broad shields sprang up in front of him, a phalanx of barriers that were far more detailed than his simple spherical barrier from before.
The champion, certain in its might, did not slow, and struck downwards at the intervening human that got between it and its quarry. The hammer blow whistled, with a dreadful momentum built up by seemingly yet another bolstering pattern.
‘He has three self-enhancing patterns,’ Dachna looked at the juggernaut of flesh masquerading as a Dawr and wondered at how this thing came to be. Stacking patterns was difficult to an extreme, exponentially so, yet three!?
The steel of the hammer smashed into the barrier above Ronald, who stood resolute and leveled his glaive upwards, as if to meet the hammer blow directly. Dachna thought his friend mad, before he realized that the phalanx of formed barriers seemed to strengthen well beyond what a tier three should be capable of.
Seemingly no less surprised, the Dawr Champion struggled against the shield with its patterns seemingly growing more powerful by the moment. A surge of blood energy filled its body as Ronald’s barriers groaned under the continued assault.
Then Stella swept up from behind the Dawr champion, spinning like a top as her staff and armor hummed loudly. With a building force that swept up the wind around her like a small tornado, she smashed into the back of the champion's knees with a loud, resounding crack. The champion sneered even as it fell to one knee, much of its attack suddenly deflected. It swept out with a hand, fast, and slapped at Stella with what appeared to be a solid haze of force wrapped around its fist.
The elf let out a piteous, mangled grunt as she was blasted back and away, tumbling across the ground like a stone skipping across water. Several parts of her armor flashed violently before the metal seemed to just warp and shred off of her. He knew that to be the hallmark of a defensive enchantment failing, and could only hope that it was enough to save the woman.
“No!” Ronald’s voice rang out again, desperation and rage within it and that same kind of presence that seemed greater than just one man behind it. He stepped forwards, and all at once the shields swirled inwards, cladding his glaive and armor. The champion struck forward with his Warhammer, only for Ronald to surprise it by parrying the blow upwards and immediately carrying through with a cleaving strike. It cut through the champion's tough hide, shredding the tendons on its dominant arm, but the champion cocked the other arm back and punched, aiming for Ronald’s head.
He pivoted on his feet, fluid for his size, and slapped the arm upwards with the haft of his glaive before spinning and deftly cleaving right through its elbow. In spite of the blood energy, innate defenses of the champions tier, and its self-enhancing patterns, Ronald’s cut cracked through the joint and ripped the limb off, forearm down.
“I will not fail them,” Ronald’s voice intoned as his words somehow cut through the screaming of the dawr, even as its other arm healed and its Warhammer came back around, “I am the bulwark, the spear, the hearth at rest.”
“For I am their Sentinel,” Ronald unhesitantly parried the Warhammer low before stomping it into the ground beneath him, and then raking the glaive through the champions eyes, “And you will fall.”
Each of the four words were punctuated by a punch, kick, elbow, and finally Ronald thrust his glaive upwards with ferocious momentum up through the champion's skull from beneath its chin. The weapon cut through bone, and all of the energy that had wrapped around it and Ronald suddenly burst forth and through the champion, blasting it backwards and shattering its body. More than that, though, Dachna saw the blood energy that had been nestled in its flesh suddenly forced out of it, like an expunged cloud.
Dachna looked to his friend, to see him almost smile in a kind of dazed trance, not a single shred of essence left in him, before the contentedness vanished as he looked over to Stella, a dreadful fear and vulnerability clear as day.
Then Stella shifted with a groan, one of her arms was very broken, but she managed to sit up with wide eyes locked onto Ronald.
“Yeah, they’re gonna need some alone time later.” Dachna muttered in a half-daze himself as he noted the look of relief in both of their eyes.
Then he saw that the champion, in spite of its shattered bones and pierced brain, wasn't dead, if the fact that the blood energy in the air was trying to get back into its body was any indication. He didn’t need to say anything as Sasha bolted forwards, landing on the thing and savaging it repeatedly.
Dachna wasted no time in following suit. They did not need this guy getting back up again.
“Didn’t think I’d take up a vocation as a butcher!” Dachna joked grimly as he sliced again and again at flesh that tried to knit back together.
“Mmf, smph ffng hrr!” Sasha said something, or tried, at least.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, I can’t understand a thing you’re sayin—” Dachna stopped mid banter to deliver a little bit more power into the gap in the Dawr’s head, scrambling its brain more. “Y’know, never mind, more clawing and biting, less chat, my bad!”
Sasha grunted, seeming either nonplussed or amused, he couldn’t tell. He wasn’t an expert at reading ‘cat’ tells yet.
Yet.
Given how vigorously she raked her back claws though, he was pretty sure she was just as invested as he was in making this thing dead permanently. Dachna noticed that Thokk was limping over, too, and joined in on the pulping.
After what felt like a minute straight of exhausting labor, the blood energy finally lost cohesion, and Dachna looked up to find that the biggest clump of the Dawr were actively retreating, with significantly fewer numbers of them remaining. They were ridiculously flush with blood energy, but they were now vastly outnumbered, and only those few nearest to the shamans seemed to be able to hold their stolen power with anything resembling efficiency. The beast at their feet was no longer among their number.
“We—” Dachna panted, arms aching from repeatedly slicing the champions skull and limbs, “—we did it?”
“You sound way too surprised.” Mithel said, on the ground next to a still severely wounded, but stable, Stella while feeding her some variation of a healing potion for bone setting.
“I mean, yeah? Shouldn’t I be?” Dachna blinked at her, sometimes forgetting that she was a little… different in her thinking. They’d just survived something that most people of any other adventuring group would probably have been slagged by in the opening act.
“We’re badasses, we got this,” Mithel grinned broadly, and for a moment, Dachna could only shake his head with his own amused smile on his face. He loved how unapologetically dramatic she could be.
“Thorne!” Ronald called out, still somehow sounding sturdy even in his severely weakened state, his essence reserves firmly devastated. Dachna noted the man couldn’t even stand anymore, and was literally forced to sit on his knees in sheer exhaustion.
“I’m here!” Came the shout as the Dawr trailed back, harassed by the forces still on the wall. Prince Nivere moved in tow, and by the looks of them, had been bloodied by the many battles. There had been several champions, but now even their numbers had dwindled. It wasn’t without cost, though, Dachna noted, seeing that their trailing members and those of the rest of the defenders were almost universally injured, near exhaustion, or otherwise a casualty. He wouldn’t be surprised to find the death tolls to be… quite high, given the situation.
“Niko is going to be back with that pissed off warlord in tow any moment,” Ronald said, looking at the group with a kind of iron in his spine that Dachna respected in his friend, “We’re going to need to hit him with everything we have.”
The tired but somewhat victorious mood plummeted at that realization, but Ronald immediately continued, “It’s doable. There’re barely any shaman’s left, and those that are are running. Niko can rip the remaining blood energy out of this battlefield, all we need to do is give him an opening. We can do this. We just need one big strike.”
The others nodded at that, many of them had noticed Niko’s seemingly unique ability to rob the dawr of their power. It was possible, considering how much was on the field. At least, that’s what Dachna was reading on their expressions. He himself wasn’t… fully convinced it was possible, but, eh, he wouldn’t be running anywhere at this point and time. He was a lot of things, but a coward was not one of them.
Cautious, though, yes. He would not be standing in front of the warlord. ‘Once more, thanks, Skye.’ Dachna hefted the kama that was once apparently one of said warlord’s possessions affectionately.
“I need some essence rations, does anyone have any left?” Ronald finished off his statement, trying to get to his feet and failing, with Mithel firmly clamping a hand on his shoulder.
Dachna frowned, “You are planting your ass in some corner and staying with the rest of those too wounded to fight.”
“Your companion is correct,” Thorne said with a stern tone, “Those of us who are capable, get ready for a fight. Dump everything you have on that warlord at my word. Those of you that are too wounded for any reasonable mobility, you’ll guard the rest of the wounded and help make sure that the rest of the Dawr aren’t going to get any braver.”
“One shot.” Nivere added, eyeing the dawr forces that were now beginning to regroup farther afield, “We have only that. If he survives, they will attack from the flank. If we destroy him, the others are left with only a few champions and hobs.”
“The reserves can take that fight.” Thokk rumbled, looking extremely unsteady on his feet as well, “If they do not flee as cowards, anyways.”
“Get organized then, move out!” Thorne shouted, appearing as one of the most well put together left on the battlefield.
Dachna resisted the urge to sigh as he realized that he and Sasha were likely to be on the frontlines. They were of the few that were the least injured in the battle.
“Oh boy, I just can’t wait to see that warlord,” Dachna muttered sarcastically.
“What? Why? He’s going to hate seeing you again.” Sasha balked.
Dachna sighed, “It’s—look, I know, I was being sarcastic, Sasha.”
“Oh… Well, it’s good you know, then.” Sasha finished, sounding very… amused.
“Oh. You were joking. Right.” Dachna sighed, “I’m so tired that your dry humor is hard to pick up.”
“I—I do not have dry humor!” Sasha huffed, before both of them heard a distant crash of a lot of things breaking in the city and coming towards them.
‘Okay Niko… bring that bastard right into us…’ Dachna breathed deeply, ‘You better be ready to do your part though, Drumstick.’
