Oc: typo realized. He's charging jet to try to create an opening for Reno, my bad.
If Jet could still try and go for Reno that'd be great
Oc: typo realized. He's charging jet to try to create an opening for Reno, my bad.
If Jet could still try and go for Reno that'd be great
ooc: Sorry, had the ACT today
Jet grinned "Sorry Marcus, I only show up when I am needed." He said, noticing the puppeteer running towards him, intent on doing something Hmmmm, this could end badly, but there is He thought, before spinning and grabbing the back of Reno's clothes and attempted to hurl her towards Connor, planning to follow after her and deliver a swift blow follow by a knee to the gut if he tried to catch the judge "You know this ain't going to end well Judge! I gotta pay you back for what you did to me right before the fight with Mahlon! I didn't get to help them take down the guy that ruined so many lives, all because you managed to knock me out with your little lighting blades!" He yelled at the Judge, flames burning a little brighter and hotter and his anger began to rise up
Oc:sorry for wall of text, am on phone so I cannot properly format it
“Eh?” Reno felt herself grabbed by the clothes and then unceremoniously felt herself flung backwards, her body sailing through the air. For Gods sake! She cursed, struggling to recover her balance in the air. Connor, meanwhile, saw her coming for him, as well s Jet, prompting for a follow up strike. Connor braced himself. He caught Reno with ease and rapidly pulled a reversal, spinning her around to where she was behind him, while he was in front. As Reno came to a halt she forced her hand out, a barrier of light forming around Connor. A split second later, Jet’s knee slammed into him, shattering the shield and slamming into Connor’s stomach savagely. The shield did a good job of slowing down the knee, but it still hurt enough that Connor flew backwards, coughing up blood. He slammed into the ground, his stomach on fire. Gah…probably a few ruptured organs… He thought, struggling to not scream from the pain. Connor was ultimately human, while Jet was a dragon child. The difference in sheer strength between the two could not be overstated. He was certain without Reno’s shield, the direct strike alone would have instantly killed him. Reno herself wasn’t looking good, the injuries she had sustained taking a toll on her.
Still, she had the presence of mind to cross her blades, a cross shaped barrier forming in front of Connor, which Syed would promptly slam against. It wouldn’t do much damage in terms of holy wise, but the blunt damage alone would probably do a number on Syed. Mika, for her part, quickly teleported to Connor, a panicked look in her eyes. A brief mental exchange was carried between the two, and before more action would be taken, Reno took out her amulet, the three of them vanishing into particles of light. At that moment, the doll on top of Marcus stopped moving, the gravity magic holding him down dispelling instantly; he pushed it off of him with ease. “That was quite troublesome,” he said softly. “Goddamn them and their devotion…why can’t they just die quietly and with ease?” He slowly got up, his wounds beginning to heal. “Anyways, I know you guys are probably tired, but with Jet here know, we can press forward. We can’t let them have any time to set up a solid defense…although….” His gaze narrowed. The fight itself hadn’t been very intense. Reno was powerful for certain, but she was one of the weaker elites compared against the likes of Rosalia and Brinley.
Connor was troublesome, but easily dealt with. The battle should have ended sooner, but hadn’t. “….be prepared for a trap,” he said finally, advancing towards the doors underneath the balcony that Connor had been. He once more kicked it open, although as the doors flew open, he jumped backwards with supernatural speed, to avoid any traps. To his surprise, nothing happened.
Instead, they were greeted with another room, this one filled with large golden statues of various people armed with weapons. But one thing was common between them: all of them wore the by now familiar robes of a Judge. IT was impossible long, a veritable hall that radiated holy energy, an elegance befitting someone like Bergen, the wielder of Order. There was a second and third story, both of which could be seen by the tiered balconies above them that stretched along the length of the hall, forming walkways with various other doors. Walking in, they would find it was empty, save for a rather beautiful golden haired girl in light armor waiting for them near the door. “…You’re alone too?” Marcus asked with a scoff. The girl fixated him with her red eyes, which narrowed. “I wouldn’t be so smug, Marcus. I’ve been gone for a long time searching for a certain item, and I managed to find it.” Marcus tilted his head. “So was this what that Judge was trying to stall for? This? I’m sorry, but even with your magic cancelling ability, there’s not a single item in the world that could possibly let you win against us all.”
“Well, you could say numerically it’s more of seven on seven type of deal, yanno~?” A second voice called. A heavily armed girl jumped down from a railing and landed acrobatically on the ground. It was a formidable height, but it was clear there was no magic used- just sheer acrobatic prowess. Despite the helmet, what wa most distinctive of the girl was the large cestus gloves she wore. A nearby door opened, admitting two Judges, one of which bore fiery red hair as well as a large sword, while behind him was an aged man with pepper-grey hair and a rather roughened face. In his hand was a book. Looking up, they would see another figure equipped with a magnificent bow, who waved, as if meeting their glances. “You’re all here, then?” Marcus asked. “I assume that means Bergen is close?”
“Correct. But the likes of you will not live to see his face.” Marisa spat, holding out her arm to the side. Bolts of black lightning arced in her hands, and then began running back and forth in a single line, the lightning giving birth to a long shaft, much in the same way a printer might carve words upon a paper. A large point formed at the end of the shaft, which was iron black. Within a few moments, Marisa held in her hands a long spear, with a rather peculiar barbed tip that seemed to glow with a faint aura. It was unique in that the shaft was pure black, while the blade itself was of a metal the group had never seen before. “That’s pretty impressive, I guess, but what is a spear going to do?” He asked her. Marisa clutched the spear in both of her hands. “You’re mistaken if you think this is just a plain spear.”
“Well, of course. It looks magical, but I doubt it’s enough for a game changer…” IN that instant, Marisa lunged forward. Marcus dodged deftly, his sword leaping out and parrying the rapid assault of thrusts. He was more surprised that the Inquisitor, who had only ever fought with a knife, was proficient in polearms. However, to his surprise he felt the spear cut him on his face. He swiped his hand, the sword carving a path through Marisa’s chest….or it should have, had she not backed away rapidly. Pain flickered along Marcus chest, enough to make him wince. Of course, it was not so bad that it was incapacitating, but it was painful to make him consider the use of poison. Especially since he realized the cut itself was not healing. “Hm…?”
“What you fail to realize is that this is one of the fabled dragon lances.” Marisa said softly. Marcus frowned. In the times of yore, back when Dragons dominated the land and subjugated humans, the humans had formed an order of Dragon Knights, skilled in slaying the beasts. With the age of the most powerful mages and the most talented of blacksmiths, coupled with their expertise, they managed to iron out the creation of powerful spears, unique in that they were all obsidian black, could cut through anything, including a dragon’s scales, negated any shield magic or buffs, and dealt increased damage against dragons. But more than that, any wounds inflicted upon dragons by these lances could not be healed for a long time by draconic magic. (That is to say, no magic the group can cast will heal these wounds, nor will natural regen the group has heal them. They also won’t be easily healed by most magic. Only powerful healing magic from a non-dragon could heal the wounds (for example, someone with magic of Lain’s caliber could heal them, with a bit of effort)
OF course, Marcus didn’t know this. While having lived fairly long and knowledgeable in many things, especially arcana, dragon lore was one of the few he was not well versed in. But he knew the basics. Anyone who grew up in the human lore knew of the dragon knights and the terrible weapons they wielded. “You guys…..” he mumbled, readying himself. “Do not get hit by that spear under any circumstance.” Brinley opened his book. “The fact you face one of the most terrible weapon Humans have ever made, a weapon specifically made just for the sole purposes of slaying the beings who tormented us in the days of yore….does it not even appeal to you, whose souls may be draconic but whose body and mind is human?” His gaze hardened. “History is written by the victor, but you should know that our act is justified. You’re fools for fighting on the wrong side.”
Marcus said nothing, his sword loosely held at his side. “….finished?” he asked softly.
“Tch!” Several orbs of light appeared amongst the dragon children at Brinley’s order, their spherical bodies glimmering brilliantly before they burst apart, scorching light flashing outwards in a small radius around them. Marcus dodged, running for Brinley. Marisa also held out her hand. “˹Magic Lock˼” As those words were uttered, Jet would feel his senses disjoint momentarily as the world seemed to dull in color. As his senses acutely adjusted, he’d realize that the fires of rage that might burst out at any point were gone, an empty point in his heart continuously extinguishing any fires he might conjure up. Such was the power of antimagic. Marisa, who could not blatantly outlaw the usage of magic in the whole area due to her magic using comrades, had to resort to this. An Inquisitor with no precision was not very useful, hence why antimagic could be applied to a small area, a large area, or even directed on one person. The concentrated antimagic on one person could be said to be far more of an issue on a magic user, due to the extensive suppression that quashed their magic, and as such could be said to be quite taxing on a body which functioned on magic.
Antimagic users too, also emitted a small aura of antimagic around them, which was why Marisa alone was given a wide berth by her comrades, made possible by the large hall they were in. This also meant close range battle with her or ranged magic attacks were essentially useless, save for very powerful ones (since the antimagic aura wouldn’t be able to dispel such powerful magic fast enough to dispel it). “A duel it is then,” Marisa said softly, although her words could be clearly held be Jet. The Inquisitor lunged forward, aiming to try and spear Jet with the dragon lance. Official doctrine for Inquisitors, normally paired with an enforcer, were strictly to hang back and suppress magic, allowing their more combat oriented partners deal with any ruffians. As such, their training in combat was lackluster at best, and nonexistent at worst. Marisa was an exception. She was still no match for an elite warrior, or even the heroic Dragon Children, but she was still competent enough to deal with most foot soldiers, and put up a good fight against the most powerful of warriors, which was impressive in of itself for a noncombatant. Furthermore, even with the difference of skill and technique between them, it was instantly closed by the weapon she held, a weapon which could inflict wounds that would not heal, and were the bane of dragons everywhere due to the special damage they inflicted.
As if reacting to the draconic aura, the spear’s faint glow seemed to intensify, while similarly, the dragon children would feel a discomfort, as if their souls subconsciously knew the terrifying fate the lance would spell for them should it strike them down. The archer on the balcony pulled back the string on his bow, not even bothering to notch an arrow. As he did, a phantom arrow of light formed within the bow, conjured up by the act of drawing it. As he released the string, the arrow surged forward, a small beam of light streaking towards Syed. Rosalia and Crowley, for their part, lunged for Ariel and Tempest, the former swinging a full blown haymaker at Ariel while the latter swung his sword at Tempest, flames flickering along its length.
Syed let out a small 'oof' when he made contact with Reno's barrier and plopped to the ground after hitting hit. The markings disappeared as Syed was knocked right out of Solluxre.- Who promptly crumpled further onto the ground before the markings appeared again, and, shaking his head, he stood back up. He pushed some blue hair back as he looked around. Okay, just follow the others, and finish up this fight. After that, overall, he really, probably, wouldn't need to help this stupid kid out anymore. When encountering the new enemy, Syed's body felt a bot tingly in response to their strange weapons. Must be an unconscious reaction to them.. he thought to himself. As he watched the enemy ahead, he didn't even notice the archer. But, action on instinct alone, completely dodged before turning to charge after the archer. Got to get rid of anything with long ranged attacks.
ooc: I'll post tommorow
also iff you ever want to contact me through Discord, Dm me here TucKiD#5482
Ariel flips backward in the air, keeping her distance from Rosalia as best she’s able to, and drawing her sword. “I really don’t like this, you know.” She says softly, darting around to try and hit her from behind. “I’m growing so tired of killing you people. I think Tempest might feel the same, and he’s always been the aggressive one between us.”
Tempest deflects Crowley’s sword with his own, and proceeds to press the attack, quick, vicious strikes making it hard to block them all, but not impossible.
Jet cracked his knuckles, body shuddering a little bit as his flames died out. "This is a new feeling, I guess this is what happens whenever you fight against an Inquisitor, especially one of your caliber." He said, directing the last sentence at Marisa. Jet dodged to the side as Marisa tried to spear him, now he fears no man, but that thing scared him. He decided to try and end this as quickly as possible. After dodging to the side, he rushed forward and kept as low to the ground as he could. He is plan so far was to sweep her legs out from underneath her, then strike her with a quick jab to the side.
The archer laughed. "Gonna climb, dragon boy?" he taunted, crouching and holding the bow sideways. Smooth as butter be pulled back on the string seeral times, sending a volley of bolts of scorching light towards the dragon child. "You think we want to die!?" Rosalia retorted angrily, turning around and parrying the blow with her armore fist. "This is all on you, not us! If you wouldn't be such idiots and think for yourself, maybe you'd realize..." She drew back and launched a savage 1-2 combo, aiming with a right hook and then an uppercut. "...that you're being played!" Crowley, meanwhile, sighed tiredly as his body blurred, his sword deftly parrying Tempest's attacks, although a few landed, sparks flying off. The final attack knocked him sideways, but as Crowley swung his sword, he was counting on the fact that Tempest would be exclusively focused on that. As such, when his sword was inevitably blocked, he launched a savage kick aimed at Tempest's stomach, with the intent of driving him backwards.
Brinley dodged left and right, his aged body moving quite smoothly in defiance of his looks. "You're pretty fast, you know?" Marcus remarked casually, atrying for a feint. Brinley did not fall for it, swiping the book in his hand and slamming the oncoming sword aimed at his throat sideways. "I used to be faster, you know. We do not age as fast as humans, but even I am old for one of our kind..." He dropped the book, which floated in mid air beide him as he clapsed his hands together, as if to pray. A small circle of ice came into being between him and Marcus, the glyph within it slowly rotating as several arcane runes spiraled along the edges. Marcus dodged backwards into a portal and came out from behind Brinley, swinging his sword. Brinley turned slightly, the shield rotating in a flash ande meeting the sword head on. "Don't underestimate a magic user!" he taunted. Marcus grinned as he twirled sideways, launching attacks from all angles. Brinley turned constantly, his gaze never leaving Marcus as the barrier flared brightly with every hit, blocking Marcus' attacks. His hands remained together as an icicle formed beside him. It seemed that he was waiting for an opportunity to attack. However, Marcus struck the barrier once more, then twirled around it in the blink of an eye, coming out and launching a snap kick that sent Brinley flying away, the barrier shattering. "And don't underestimate a dragon Child!" Marcus shouted, following up with an overhead strike. Brinley dived backwards as the sword slammed into the ground where he had been, kicking up debris, the very air shuddering around him from the sheer air pressure. Several icicles formed around Brinley. "Hmph!" They flew forward towards him with a flick of the wrist.
Marisa jumped upwards, evading the aimed low swipe of Jet's fist, then held up her spear, the lance's shaft taking the brunt of his impact. A lessser weapon would've shattered from the sheer strength of Jet alone, but the lance did not even shudder, resisting the impossible strength with it's own. "I'm flattered by your words. A few strikes from this lance and it's a guaranteed kill for me!" She jumped back and then flung the spear towards Jet, pulling back in a flash and then thrusting again, a barrage of thrusts coming straight towards Jet as Marisa launched a savage combo. It was an attack that would have been truly fearsome, but Marisa's lack of strength and technique decreased it's effectiveness.
Syed didn't respond, and instead launched himself off the wall, and out of the way of the arrows. But in turn, farther from the enemy. Sp, he unclipped and swung his whip. His aim was to grab the archer with it, and simultaneously drag the archer off, and drag himself closer. though just the latter would be good to, because either way he planned to kick this guy in the face(with a flaming boot.)