Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
04-24-2010, 02:50 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Not The Author.
-thwock-
Jacob Helix was presently in a foul mood.
-thwock-
Despite his efforts to keep the Tender from doing any more harm, it'd still managed to get away from him, and in a totally unexpected manner.
-thwock-
Now the adrenaline that had sustained him during their recent scuffle had run dry, and despite his heavy armor, he was certain at least one of his ribs had sustained a minor fracture.
-thwock-
He was in a hot, humid jungle, and the thing he was trying to free could probably kill him with a blade of grass, let alone an entire arboreal battalion. Not even taking into account that he was practically standing atop the sort of wooden mound that might jump up and stab him.
-thwock-
This particular knotted mat of roots was proving rather resilient as well, and for a moment Jacob lamented not getting the suggested chain modification (Or plasma! Now in I[sub:3emd7ne7]N[/sub:3emd7ne7]D[sub:3emd7ne7]I[/sub:3emd7ne7]G[sub:3emd7ne7]O[/sub:3emd7ne7]!) when he'd had the chance. But now wasn't the time to despair. Now was the time for action!
-thwock-
...Action that was getting him precisely nowhere.
Due to the near-horizontal nature of the surface he was attempting to breach, and the distinctly non-serrated nature of his sword, Jacob was, essentially, attempting to cut down a redwood using only a spear. Granted, it was more possible than with a herring, but it still wasn't a plan that would get results anytime soon.
It occurred to him then that he might have better luck trying to wedge the roots apart, despite their uncannily tight weave. His blade made yet another descending arc to the wooded ground.
"Need some help?"
And immediately came back up.
Fortunately, John Swift had been standing very slightly out of Jacob's range, though quite probably through no planning of his own. Both parties seemed rather unnerved, though the cryomancer was rather fidgety even without a chunk of war-forged metal pointed in the general direction of his windpipe.
"Don't. Sneak up. On me."
Gradually, Jacob let the blade swing back to his side. John seemed to calm down a little, popping something into his mouth as he sat in the grass opposite the knight. He knocked upon the shell concealing Sen. "So what is this thingy, anyway? You seem to be trying to cut through it and I thought maybe I could help you and you were kinda nice from before except not really but kinda so I thought <font size="4">maybe you could help me if I helped you and you must be kinda hungry and a bit thirsty and I made some flavor balls but they keep melting which is kinda annoying and do you want one?"</font>
Jacob knelt, taking a moment to wade through this deluge of words, abnormally rushed even for this... excitable young lad. "...Yeah, sure. I am a bit parched, now than you mention it." The icy sphere sailed lazily through the air, easily caught though marginally unstable. Jacob took a bite. "Mango?"
John shrugged, glancing over his shoulder towards the escarpment from whence he came. He seemed to be doing that a lot. "I guess so. They looked edible, at least... But poison doesn't taste good, so we're fine, right?"
Jacob lowered his head, fist closed around the rapidly melting sno-sans-cone impacting his brow. "Ugh. Forget I asked." It was rather tasty, though, and were it poisoned, he was likely already done for. The rest of the flavor ball went into his gullet; the energy therein soon to go to his sword. "Now then, if you could just help me break open these roots..."
The cryomancer scratched the back of his neck, eyes downcast. "Well, I dunno how much help I'll be with all this heat. Hard to make ice, y'know?" Jacob sighed, and had intended to make a less-than-encouraging remark on John's magical aptitude when the Humanoid unexpectedly actually made a good point. "Besides, can't you just, uh... do that thing? With the holes?"
Were he not already flush from the jungle climate, Jacob's face would most certainly have reddened at his failure to recognize this simple, obvious, and likely unexpected avenue of attack on the Tender beneath them. He was about to not explain why it wasn't that simple again, when he noticed movement on the ridge. "God, what the hell took them so long!"
John leapt to his feet and turned towards the cliff face, assuming the knight had meant the other contestants had arrived.
He hadn't.
Several well-built women were sliding down the ridge, shouting excitedly. The leading pair were adorned with a great deal of birdfeathers. All of the amazons had at least one spear. Three of them, staying atop the ridge, were armed with bows and a dismaying quantity of arrows. There seemed to be a little over a dozen of them. John backed away, running into Jacob's outstretched arm. "That's more than there were before..."
Another time, Jacob might've asked what he meant. But at the moment, an idea was hatching in his mind. He turned to the cryomancer, grinning.
"I just had a terrible idea."
He faced the oncoming warriors, who'd slowed, muttering amongst themselves and seeming not to want to get closer to the pair. "They're here to hunt demons, right?" He plucked his sword from the ground, face instantly hardening. He swung the blade up sharply to point at the natives. More than one flinched. "Then let's give them a demon to hunt!"
John spun his staff down from his back uncertainly. "Oh, by the way." The cryomancer looked up expectantly at his companion, who still stared out at the wave of savages. "When I tell you to run..."
Jacob had intended to look down, slowly, on the Humanoid at his side. He'd meant to use his most grave voice, to intone run dramatically. He was going to open a tunnel, drop Sen from the sky into the middle of the group of natives.
That didn't happen.
The earth trembled as the chronomancer turned his head, and the ground behind them erupted in a shower of grass and sod. A massive serpentine column of writhing roots burst forth, and in their midst rode a decidedly more brown Sen, perched atop the great heaving mass.
Jacob, to say the least, was not terribly pleased by this development. He expressed this displeasure in the most elegant, refined manner he was able to muster.
"Oh, fuck me!"
Spoiler
Jacob Helix was presently in a foul mood.
-thwock-
Despite his efforts to keep the Tender from doing any more harm, it'd still managed to get away from him, and in a totally unexpected manner.
-thwock-
Now the adrenaline that had sustained him during their recent scuffle had run dry, and despite his heavy armor, he was certain at least one of his ribs had sustained a minor fracture.
-thwock-
He was in a hot, humid jungle, and the thing he was trying to free could probably kill him with a blade of grass, let alone an entire arboreal battalion. Not even taking into account that he was practically standing atop the sort of wooden mound that might jump up and stab him.
-thwock-
This particular knotted mat of roots was proving rather resilient as well, and for a moment Jacob lamented not getting the suggested chain modification (Or plasma! Now in I[sub:3emd7ne7]N[/sub:3emd7ne7]D[sub:3emd7ne7]I[/sub:3emd7ne7]G[sub:3emd7ne7]O[/sub:3emd7ne7]!) when he'd had the chance. But now wasn't the time to despair. Now was the time for action!
-thwock-
...Action that was getting him precisely nowhere.
Due to the near-horizontal nature of the surface he was attempting to breach, and the distinctly non-serrated nature of his sword, Jacob was, essentially, attempting to cut down a redwood using only a spear. Granted, it was more possible than with a herring, but it still wasn't a plan that would get results anytime soon.
It occurred to him then that he might have better luck trying to wedge the roots apart, despite their uncannily tight weave. His blade made yet another descending arc to the wooded ground.
"Need some help?"
And immediately came back up.
Fortunately, John Swift had been standing very slightly out of Jacob's range, though quite probably through no planning of his own. Both parties seemed rather unnerved, though the cryomancer was rather fidgety even without a chunk of war-forged metal pointed in the general direction of his windpipe.
"Don't. Sneak up. On me."
Gradually, Jacob let the blade swing back to his side. John seemed to calm down a little, popping something into his mouth as he sat in the grass opposite the knight. He knocked upon the shell concealing Sen. "So what is this thingy, anyway? You seem to be trying to cut through it and I thought maybe I could help you and you were kinda nice from before except not really but kinda so I thought <font size="4">maybe you could help me if I helped you and you must be kinda hungry and a bit thirsty and I made some flavor balls but they keep melting which is kinda annoying and do you want one?"</font>
Jacob knelt, taking a moment to wade through this deluge of words, abnormally rushed even for this... excitable young lad. "...Yeah, sure. I am a bit parched, now than you mention it." The icy sphere sailed lazily through the air, easily caught though marginally unstable. Jacob took a bite. "Mango?"
John shrugged, glancing over his shoulder towards the escarpment from whence he came. He seemed to be doing that a lot. "I guess so. They looked edible, at least... But poison doesn't taste good, so we're fine, right?"
Jacob lowered his head, fist closed around the rapidly melting sno-sans-cone impacting his brow. "Ugh. Forget I asked." It was rather tasty, though, and were it poisoned, he was likely already done for. The rest of the flavor ball went into his gullet; the energy therein soon to go to his sword. "Now then, if you could just help me break open these roots..."
The cryomancer scratched the back of his neck, eyes downcast. "Well, I dunno how much help I'll be with all this heat. Hard to make ice, y'know?" Jacob sighed, and had intended to make a less-than-encouraging remark on John's magical aptitude when the Humanoid unexpectedly actually made a good point. "Besides, can't you just, uh... do that thing? With the holes?"
Were he not already flush from the jungle climate, Jacob's face would most certainly have reddened at his failure to recognize this simple, obvious, and likely unexpected avenue of attack on the Tender beneath them. He was about to not explain why it wasn't that simple again, when he noticed movement on the ridge. "God, what the hell took them so long!"
John leapt to his feet and turned towards the cliff face, assuming the knight had meant the other contestants had arrived.
He hadn't.
Several well-built women were sliding down the ridge, shouting excitedly. The leading pair were adorned with a great deal of birdfeathers. All of the amazons had at least one spear. Three of them, staying atop the ridge, were armed with bows and a dismaying quantity of arrows. There seemed to be a little over a dozen of them. John backed away, running into Jacob's outstretched arm. "That's more than there were before..."
Another time, Jacob might've asked what he meant. But at the moment, an idea was hatching in his mind. He turned to the cryomancer, grinning.
"I just had a terrible idea."
He faced the oncoming warriors, who'd slowed, muttering amongst themselves and seeming not to want to get closer to the pair. "They're here to hunt demons, right?" He plucked his sword from the ground, face instantly hardening. He swung the blade up sharply to point at the natives. More than one flinched. "Then let's give them a demon to hunt!"
John spun his staff down from his back uncertainly. "Oh, by the way." The cryomancer looked up expectantly at his companion, who still stared out at the wave of savages. "When I tell you to run..."
Jacob had intended to look down, slowly, on the Humanoid at his side. He'd meant to use his most grave voice, to intone run dramatically. He was going to open a tunnel, drop Sen from the sky into the middle of the group of natives.
That didn't happen.
The earth trembled as the chronomancer turned his head, and the ground behind them erupted in a shower of grass and sod. A massive serpentine column of writhing roots burst forth, and in their midst rode a decidedly more brown Sen, perched atop the great heaving mass.
Jacob, to say the least, was not terribly pleased by this development. He expressed this displeasure in the most elegant, refined manner he was able to muster.
"Oh, fuck me!"