Saga of the Worm and the Dragon- Part One: Never Again (I... Fight... On!)

[Sarai and Samiel]

Yume regarded the new arrival with a curious look. Seeing him head towards them, she slowed a bit, so as to allow the... young man, perhaps? To encounter the group rather than being left behind. In a way, it slightly galled her that the entire array of those present slowed when she did (even the floating.... something was floating? Her mind tried to grasp something, but it refused to be held. She was getting one of those feelings she occasionally got, right about when she discovered she'd been sent into a slightly different version of where she was a moment ago. No matter, her thoughts would grasp it in time.), but on the other hand, it was good to see that all of those around were so alert to each other in presence and action.

"Mebbe." She said back, as the young man with his large sword shifted into step alongside the small cluster formed of herself, Boo, Aidan, and the wolf. "But somehow, I don' think you'll be too happy to've met me in th' end."

The junk was starting to form a rise, and the group had made it just a bit over half of the way to the forest. The sun was just beginning to peak in the sky, and while Ghona's field did much to dissipate glare, there was not a lot to be said for its ability to reduce heat. It was a dry heat, for which pretty much all of the living creatures present were thankful- but not Yume. She could feel her nostrils becoming arid, and her lips slightly chapping.

"You from here?" She inquired. Her walking pace picked back up as she headed up the incline, carefully choosing the more flat bits of metal to stand on.

"Nae as sich." He replied.

Irish-Scottish, Boolean's mind noted of his accent.

Dwarven, Aidan's produced.

Pae'juser, Yume thought, and S'vizho.

"Ei din fool dun a hael, aen here ei be." The young man concluded, shifting the massive sword a bit. "Ye kem frem aroon' hea'?"

"Newp." Yume easily ignored Aidan's amused glance and Boolean's mildly bewildered expression. If they thought that was a bad accent... well, nevermind. A slight smirk quirked the left corner of her mouth, the side away from the sword-toting Feyhorn. "Near's I c'n tell, we fell right on through th' world an' ended up here, so.... Enh. 'Fore ya say anythin' more, I'ma guess somethin'."

With a slight shrug, the young man continued along, cresting the hill. "Faer t' bae. Guiss ohn."

"You're plannin' on' taggin' along with us, jus' on accounta 'cuz. And ya-"

This, naturally, was the precise instant when a significant portion of hell (or reasonable facsimile thereof) broke loose.

**********************************

"Sir, there's another one now, sir. It seems to be a young Overlander with an impossibly big sword, sir."

"Blast it, Snively!" *THUMP* 'Rawwwk!' "I'm almost there. Start the ambush!"

"Yes, sir. Snively out." The small man, apparently suffering from a combination of undernourishment and dwarfism, reached out to the controls, cutting the comm-link and hitting a large, friendly red button. "Attention, all SWAT-bots! Commence operation! Repeat, attention all SWAT-bots!...."

**********************************

"Sally." The calm, aesthetic female voice requested. "You should look at these scans."

"What's up, Sal? Nicole find something interesting?"

"Oh, gods. They're surrounded by SWAT-bots! I think it's- look, they're moving!"

"An ambush! I'm there!"

"Ya ain' countin' me out, sugah!"

Moments later, the small under-junk space was empty of all but the sound of retreating footprints, some of them what people might call impossibly fast...

*********************************

It is entirely possible that even the inscrutable Ancolyte was surprised by what was happening. Of course, nobody besides he himself would ever know whether or not he was. What *is* known is that he was *very* amused by it, regardless of state of surprise or not.

As if in a single motion, the next 'hill' over had stood up, proving to be composed almost entirely of a large regiment of steely, humanoid robots. Each one had what looked like an overturned soup-bowl bearing a Cyclops-style visor on the front, and each one had some sort of a cannon in place of its right arm. Naturally, this wasn't the whole of the difficulty. For within the same instant, the next 'hill' over in every direction had proceeded to stand up.

Whistling, hands jammed in his pockets, Aidan glanced about, and noted that there seemed to be other copies of those robots clambering over the junk still more hills away. Well, if nothing else, this would certainly prove to be entertaining. Maybe they even had other things they could do besides the obvious (i.e. die in droves and shoot with their right arms).

Before the robots had even finished standing up, Yume had dropped into a low martial-arts stance from some unidentifiable style or other. Her hands were flat, like blades, up before her face, left near, right far. Her supporting left leg was bent, right leg out with the knee bent down so her toe could lightly touch the ground, and her tail whipped and sworled behind her. On the one hand, such a situation was irritating. On the other hand, it could probably turn deadly pretty easily for most of those around her.

Boolean's metal staff rose in his hands as the robots took aim at the small group loosely gathered on the hill, each of them turned to face away from the others, attention on this sudden threat. If one could have peered into his thoughts, one would likely have gotten a string of unprintables.

On each of the hills that had proven to be covered in the robots, there was still more new stuff arriving- in the form of large machines shaped vaguely like squid. Although, squid don't usually crawl about on land with their rears in the air, have glowing red eyes, wield cannon on the end of all eight legs, or have buzzsaws on the ends of their arms. So not really like squid, but enough to give a reasonable impression of the marine animals of that appelation.

Crouching low, both Lycrios and the wolf growled in the backs of their throats. The heat, the polluted haze, the dimmed glare of light off of polished metal- all had done their part in distracting attention just barely enough. It had smelled of metal and oil in the area, but then, the whole scrapyard smelt of steel and petroleum. Now that he was focusing, though, the lycanthropic hunter could also detect the very faintest whiff of ozone, as from electronics being worked hard- possibly overworked.

"What th'-" Yume began- and was cut off by the firing of a hundred low-end weapons-grade lasers.

The feyhorn man, like everyone else, found himself diving down onto the scrap, rolling to his feet and taking off towards the assaulting machines in a zig-zagging motion, set to make targeting difficult. He was no Yume, not even a Boolean in terms of speed, but he handled himself well enough, in spite of the supposed leverage issues of the titanic blade hefted over his shoulder.

Ghona, leaping over the second volley of laser fire, was forced to twist slightly midair as a barrage of plasma spheres were used to make the nearby environs... inhospitable. (95.8% chance of significant armor damage on impact) While the multitude of smaller robots wielded lasers (error. Lasers are not dodgeable projectile weapons. Conclusion: misidentification. Some form of projectile/beam/plasma weaponry suspected.), the squid-things each bore a set of eight heavy plasma cannon, lobbing balls of the superheated gas (plasma- fourth state of matter. Not a gas.) in a manner and at a rate some might equate to a batting-practice baseball launcher.

********************************

"Prepare second wave! Tighten ranks to West by Northwest! Turrets in Southeast quadrant, active and set to heat-tracking!" The very small man proved to be also a very fast man, at least within the confines of what seemed to be a sort of Dyson's Sphere of controls. Every sentence punctuated by a series of commands typed on a keyboard, switches flipped, buttons pressed, levers manipulated- It would almost be astounding, the way Snively conducted the fight. Perhaps magnificent enough to overcast his immense, beaklike nose, or the fact that only a few sparse hairs grew on his head, all eternally standing on end. But only almost.

After all, he was losing. Slowly, but losing.

"SWATbots A37-B through A95-Q, tighten your aim! That old one isn't even having to duck! Turrets in Northeast quadrant, active and motion-tracking, all SWATbots in that region to stand-and-fire mode!"

**********************************

Father Ancolyte walked calmly down the hillside. 'Laser' fire and plasma shot tore up the junk and wreckage around him, but never quite seemed to hit him. Only an occasional piece of shrapnel would cut into his clothing, but never quite into him. Every time a robot would draw a bead on him, it would either shift unexpectedly from the instability of its footing, be struck by one or another of the combatants, or, on rare occasions, switch to a higher-priority target (i.e. one that was actually dealing damage). At some point, a SWAT-bot arm landed by the priest, which he crouched to pick up, examining it. Such a curious thing, all circuitry and servomotors.

Zado, for his part, was noticing something a bit... off. Now and again, he would turn to plunge his blade into a robot, or take a pot-shot at one of the huge tentacled machines, only to find that his target had already been struck and sent reeling. Occasionally, he would percieve a flash of something blue here, a glint of steel there. Very odd- but he had no time to think on it. Were these machines endless? A kick sent one barreling into four others, which commenced with a rather surprisingly volatile explosion, pelting his forceshield with bits of metal and circuitry.

**********************************

"Joined, is the battle. Such an odd for proving the scene, from value that quality has, quantity less than unless quality of comparability is."

"Yes, Indigo..." Big one muttered, "But that does not mean it is not a trouble. Hopefully, this is not a harbinger of difficulty."

"Dream surpasses difficulty, Mountain." Battery stated. "Besides, I... what happened to the scrying bowl?"

"Say, that's some really good custard. You should try some."

Battery fell over as Emerald held out a spoon. "Go on, it's good! Kinda... lemon-coconut thing going on there."

"Emerald?"

"What, Indigo?"

"Her brain has breakage from the fault of yours, so I think."

*********************************

((Muahahahaha. BATTLE SCENE!!!! What you all are facing is a multitude of SWATbots (as described. They are neither durable nor intelligent, relying on numbers and intimidation to fight), supported by eight of those kraken-like things. Feel free to do all the destroying and whatnot that you wish, and even work together on some of it. Please keep in mind a few rules:

The SWATbots have near-infinite reinforcements. There were many hundreds in the first wave, the second wave is comparable, and there is also a third wave.

The Sonic crew is arriving to help as you post. This crew consists of

1) Sonic the Hedgehog. I don't really have to tell you what he does, do I? Good. This is a basic Sonic, so no fancypants stuff from the Adventure games or anything. Think Sonic 2 or Sonic Spinball in terms of when he's pulled from. He's mostly going to be WAY too fast to keep track of, excepting as a blur of something cobalt-blue.

2) Miles (Tails) Prower. Again... you know what he can do. Like Sonic, just as he was in about Sonic 2 or Spinball. Does the flying thing a lot, and he's relatively small, so not very big on physical combat. Still, he's gotten good at dodging and making SWATbots trip up into each other.

3) Bunny Rabot. Anthro rabbit (pink) in the standard Sonic style. Her legs are robotic and can extend and retract from their usual one-and-a-half feet to about fifteen, at will. Her left arm is also robotic and therefore super-strong. Unlike Sonic or Tails, she wears clothes (a bodysuit with no arms), but no shoes (robot feet, natch). Speaks with a very strong Southern accent, calls people 'Sugah', and is friendly, if a bit put-off by anything obviously robotic. As close as the Sonic crew get to 'hulksma****ude'.

4) Antoine LeBlanc. Antoine is an anthro (fox?) Who bears a strong resemblance to Tails aside from having *no* tails instead of two. He has blond hair in that middle-part style reminiscent of British fops. He also wears a blue lieutenant's jacket with the shoulder fringes and gold braid and medals and whatnot, and totes around a rapier (which he never uses). No other clothing. He's a serious wimp, but constantly trying to prove himself better than Sonic. Doesn't usually work out well.

5) Rotor (formerly Boomer). Anthro walrus, purple. Techhead. He loves tooling with gears, scrapped SWATbots, whatever he can get his hands on. Right now, he's supporting with a makeshift cannon that fires fireworks. Not the most damaging weapon, but better than nothing. Wears a backwards teal baseball cap and a leather bandoleer full of tools.

6) Princess Sally Acorn. Anthro pink fox (no tail) with black hair in a ponytail. Wears a pair of blue boots and (sometimes) a blue vest. She doesn't actually do any fighting, but calls out helpful stuff to the others- things she finds out with Nicole, her pocket computer (that bears a remarkable physical resemblance to a tricorder. Hmmm...). She is not your standard princess. That is to say... she acts like anyone else. Antoine is the only one who ever really treats her like a princess rather than a friend, and that's just because he's an anal-retentive whiney fop. Sometimes, she bickers with Sonic, particularly when he's being typically rash and she's trying to figure out a plan for what to do next.

This time, feel free to add interesting robots that Robotnik might have at his disposal, or any robots from the Sonic games (1,2, or 3). Robots *should* be relatively cartoony. If you don't know the Sonic style of robots, see also: Megaman.

You will not beat the robots all in one post each. There are WAY the fark too many of them.

Interesting Things will Happen in my next post, so be aware of that, and try not to set things up to be restricted at that point, please.

Have at.

"And now, Groo does what Groo does best!"

-Reiko.))

[ December 18, 2005, 10:58 PM: Message edited by: The Willful Wanderer- Reiko Kameno ]

[Boolean]

"Well, isn't this wonderful?" Boolean muttered under his breath. Had he been alone, the sheer number of robots drawing bead on him might have mentally overwhelmed him into throwing down his staff and surrendering to the inevitable. But surrounded by (presumed) allies, and with an important mission to accomplish before he snuffed it, the feline was encouraged into making a stand, even if it could possibly be his last.

The 'foot-soldiers' seemed essentially identical -- mass-produced in a factory, most likely -- and perhaps technically inferior to Ghona. But one should never underestimate an armed enemy.

He sank to the ground with his companions to dodge the first volley of weapons fire. Definitely not smart, Boolean thought of the robots; since they'd surrounded the group in a circle, the crossfire conveniently took out the nearest few rows of the army. Not durable either, he added, observing that each downed robot exploded into a shower of fine parts, generally not leaving enough wreckage to noticeably clutter the already-treacherous footing of the junkpile beneath them.

He flew into action with his erstwhile comrades, vaulting into the air on his staff to avoid the second set of shots, and spinning the hollow metal rod to build up its momentum before he started introducing it to the SWATbots' dome heads. The pipe was a heavier weapon than he was used to, making it harder to handle, but he still used it to clear the robots left and right. A good hit to the head or chest seemed to be enough to explode the robots, and even when one couldn't get that close, it was relatively easy to knock a gun-arm's aim astray, or to topple a robot by sweeping a foot out from under it, or even to just move aside and let its clones take it out.

Most of his companions seemed to be faring equally well in the battle. The sheer numbers of robots would seem to dictate that they'd all be shot down soon enough, but everyone was able to dodge the beam bolts fired at them. Lycrios and Nightstrike zig-zagged erratically before striking; Aidan twisted and dodged like he was fighting a martial artist; Boolean was a blur; and Yume was faster still. Occasionally an observer would catch a still image of her in one place, driving a fist or foot into the gut of a SWATbot, only to be gone the next moment, the overall effect being as if her motion had been caught by the flashing of a strobe light. The newcomer, though perhaps not as fast, was making an impressive show of himself, shouting aspersions on the robots' ancestry and relations with farm animals all the while he swung his massive sword as if it had no mass, sending waves of them soaring into the air to land far behind their lines.

But the group couldn't keep this up forever. There were far too many robots to disable in one-on-one combat, and that wasn't even counting the squid-things lobbing hot explosives over their heads. Dozens of bits of interesting electronics sat in the feline's pockets, ready to be turned into a makeshift EMP or laser or something, anything that would even the odds. But there was no time to tinker on the battlefield.

From time to time, over the clash of metal against metal or the scream of servos being separated, Boolean thought he could hear a sort of foomp sound, followed by a crackle of explosions not unlike a holiday fireworks show. It sounded decidedly low-tech for their assailants to be using, but the feline couldn't spare the time to seek out its source. It took all his concentration to keep track of the robots that continued to bear down on them all, and all his impressive dexterity to keep out of harm's way.

[Repster™]

Aidan had kept his simple stance all the while. The main difference was the movement of his hips and legs. Only one foot touching the ground at any time. His feet crushed these things under his feet like the where made of aluminum foil. Pathetic mechanical beings. They're weaponry did not even pose a challenge to deflect into another. He could feel they're attacks before they were even launched. As for damage to his soles, it was minimal. His feet had gone threw far worse with little effect.

He looked around with little interest as more joined the fray. All flimsy destroyed easily by a kick, or deflected projectile.
"Hmmm... what's this..." His eye caught the glimpse of, something. A blue streak across his vision from time to time. Whatever it was, It was fast, faster then Aidan. What surprised him most of this was that this creature, it was obviously biological in some way, was also on foot. Now that was something. The only thing to match his speed on foot he had met was Yume. No matter, it was helpful so he would investigate its nature later. Anything that could be around him for that long without being identified was worth looking into.

He ducked under one of the few remaining buzz saws and leapt forward, flipping around to gather enough force to sink himself fully into the battered squid like machine. Once inside he slammed his second foot down creating a small explosion to send the scrapped pieces away. When had he moved and engaged it? No matter, his instincts could cover this while his mind wandered and tried to gather as much information about these new arrivals, as well as the source of this blasted cannon fodder. Mindless drones always had some sort of leader, whether they were machines, insects, or men.

All the while scouring the battlefield with sense after sense, his feet carved a path. Wounds were taken from time to time, but neither did he notice, nor would he have cared. His regenerative properties took care of them, the easier for being fueled by the growing heat.

Ooc: Note: Lycrios is currently having a slight mental and mechanical breakdown. Therefore, his posting may or may not come for awhile. Probably somewhere nearing the first week of January… if not, I’ll hunt him down and tie him to a chair until he does. Maybe I’ll even borrow a cattle prod to make it go faster…

[Lycrios]

OoC: Well, I couldn’t stay away from this, not after Repster informed me that there was activity in this topic. I have braved dial-up and an old 486 to post. I don’t know if I’ll attempt this again, but as Repster said, I will be able to post more freely as of the first week of January. Until then, I am forced to watch I am afraid. Give a good show people.

-----

He was too close, he knew this, but it did not seem to falter his grin as the robot, unthinking, shot another round at the large man. He embraced the pain, as wounds sealed up almost instantly, his body accustomed to such minor cuts and gashes. Although he felt the sting of every bullet, this was his intent. The pain fuelled him, his rage slowing growing within him. His fighting style was clean, and precise, but it was within his barbaric rage that held his true deadliness. Hardly after having fired off its shot, the robot was quickly cut down, as was the one scrambling behind it. The nearly 6 foot long blade made short work of the two. It was a wonder how a weapon of such size could be wielded by one hand, but same could be said to the boy fighting along side them.

The chaos of battle at completely consumed them all, as he could tell while he spared himself a glance at his surroundings. The robots were formidable, only due to the fact that they were in an overwhelming number, but they lacked the intelligence and somehow seemed to come at them in a distinctive pattern easily noticeable by any with the slightest fighting background. This was how he could spare himself a complete look around him, knowing that he had to merely keep up his pace.

As expected, the monk looked as if dancing through the battlefield, his hands still within his pockets. He sometimes jumped atop the droids, only to have their heads crushed into the ground as he left off onto another. All the others were dealing with the battle in their own distinctive way. He saw the legions still incoming of the robots, relentless machines, how fun. His thirst for battle had not been quenched for quite some time, but he knew that to become cocky during a battle such as this was never a good idea. He regained his composure almost at the exact moment the thought entered his head, cleaving off the heads of three lined up robots charging at him. As they fell before him, he saw Nightstrike, his trusted companion, plow through a group that had gotten dangerously close to the feline humanoid. He was the one who had the most trouble by far. He was not a being of war that was for sure. Nightstrike stayed by the feline’s side, using its incredible size to its advantage, thrusting itself into groups of the mechanical things, crushing them under it’s weight. Some were unlucky enough to feel the monstrous force of the beast’s jaws, as it pulverized their heads.

Lycrios slowly made his way to his companion, thinking it smart to help out the one name Boolean, in case of any incident. His trek was a slow one indeed, as the hoard of robots slowed down his movement. The mechanical parts were pilling up around him, making him have to move over them, sometimes leaving himself exposed to more attacks. Still, his swings were relentless and constant, bringing down one of the metal creatures with every swing. He was making his way closer to Nightstrike, for he felt a droid fly over him from the impact of the mighty beast. But then, an unfamiliar smell crept to his nostrils. It had to have been real close to even give off a scent during the battle. A robot exploded not too far off, just to the corner of Lycrios’ eye, and what seemed to be a blur went speeding off to the right, out of his line of sight. Even the monk wasn’t that fast. He knew not of the powers of the individuals in his group, so he associated it to them, any of them. Still, this scent was like nothing he had ever smelled before.

[Zado Zudamee]

Zado quickly rolled behind a mound of trashed Swatbots as another barrage of lasers filled the air around him,turning his cover into a pile of molten metal. The Elite quickly leapt over the charred metal and charged a group of the nearest robots,plasma rifles blaring. Two of the mech`s fell to the ground,their internal circuits fried and armour melted.The other five fired at the charging elite,binging down his energy shields;but before they could deliver the killing shots,the enraged alien crashed into them. Wielding his plasma rifles like cudgels,Zado crushed each of their visors with quick strikes.He leapt out of their midst as the blinded robots franticly sprayed everything around them with lasers,destroying eachother and a few other of their comrades.Zudamee turned to see one of the large,squidlike robots aiming its main cannons at him.Before it could fire,a blue ball crashed into its head at superspeed,completely annihalating the mechanic...

[Slife]

Ghona landed, simultaneously ordering Ellor to fly to a higher altitude and enter observation mode. His extensive Gencore robotics database had fifteen hundred entries for cannon-armed humanoids, from the thirty major robotic design types, and none of them matched adequately (less than 35% exterior, unknown interior). The drones' armor and constant movement relative to him made a full systems scan impossible (0.0004% chance of doing so without major damage). He dodged another flurry of “lasers”, and impaled a drone's head with one of his katars, draining some of its energy before the core shut off. His own power source was holding steady at 74%. He still didn't trust it, and wouldn't until the auto-repair had declared the fusion chamber free of leaks.

Six more came at him from in front. He swung his katar in a sweeping arc, extending the plasma cutting field as it went. It was inelegant, but worked well enough. Ellor alerted him to a few plasma blasts, this time from behind. He dove out of the way, trying to blind the nearby drones with his pauldron lasers. Landing, he switched his left katar for a gun and popped off a few shots to give him time to get up (Probability 87% to destroy the nearest drones). Since it wasn't needed, he disabled his light dampening field and rerouted the shield generator to reinforce his armor.

Ellor sent him the latest schematic estimate. It was roughly like the Killbot v16.2, but the entire motor control assemblage resembled that of the ill-fated NME line. (52% match). The “laser” was still unknown. This was solvable. The next drone first had its arm cut off, and then was thrown down onto the next ones. He sliced open the wiring and memorized the circuitry layout for later examination.

A few frames of Ellor's feed seemed to have blue streaks on them, slightly before an enemy was destroyed. A weapon, perhaps (23% probability)? There was no time to investigate that now, though. The drones seemed endless (2% probability), andhe had to focus on keeping himself intact. Killing drones was only an inevitable outgrowth of that goal.

[ January 10, 2006, 09:07 PM: Message edited by: Slife remembers the Home ]

[Galen]

Daladar's laugh could be heard even over the powrful din of the battle. He was deeply impressed by these warriors; it had been centuries since he had witnessed a group of skilled individuals such as these. Gripping his blade with both hand, the weapon swathed a clear circle around himself, enough for him to get some space.

They weren't very skilled, these soulless warriors, but their numbers were indeed great. A few braved their way close, just as he spun his sword in both hands, planting it into the ground. Flipping back onto his hands, his feet shot out to the sides, twisting himself abruptly with the momentum as his legs spun, crashing into their weapon arms and torsos. Bits and pieces flew away when he stood back up, spitting a curse at them whilst his hand patted his sword. Jumping up at the hilt, he lifted himself onto the tip of the sword, standing in a Peter Pannish fashion. Soon he was back to swinging with a mechanic fashion.

Some seemed to be grouped in packed formations, perfect for a certain ytick he enjoyed. Lifting his weapon over his shoulder, Daladar spun around once, twice, three times, and let loose his blade. The heavy, low humming of the sword could be heard as it spun through the air low on the ground, crashing into the SWATbots, spilling bits and pieces into various directions. As good as that was, many new foes took their predecessors' places. His sword spinning back towards him, he caught it with both hands, staggering a few steps before righting himself. Planting his feet firmly back to the ground, his sharp eyes took in the battle... and saw a blur of blue pass by him on more than one occasion.

"What..." He began, but blinked and kept to the battle; now wasn't the time for speculation. He began to swat the things to the side, giving himself some room to dash forth, the sheer size of his weapon enough to push them out of the way. If he were able to get to at least one of his new comrades, they would have a much better chance of survival in this bout.

Taking a quick survey, the Feyhorn found their positions; the machine they called Ghona was holding his own against these frail junkyard monstrosities in the center of the fray; the wizened man Ancolyte -- who seemed different, in more ways than one, to the seasoned veteran Daladar, -- was merely kneeling, praying as SWATbots were being siultaneously destroyed all around him, he was either lucky or had more power than they could imagine; the monk being was at ease in the chaos, it merely seeming natural for him to be in such a battle, his feet carving a tenuous path for him as the strange eyes of his scanned the immediate area; the big man was headed for the feline creature -- who strangely resembled a Fenbalgier from his homeland, -- possibly to aid him, his beast counterpart tearing through the ranks with relative ease; the strange being called Zado was crashing through them as though they were the dead remains of trees, his slender weapons that seemed to spit out some sort of magic cutting them down moderately quickly. Yume, the lizard-like woman, was using derelect forms of the physical arts to overpower her foes, to which he found interesting.

After another second of swinging, he decided to head for the priest. Changing his handle of his sword to the under-handed of Zatuichi, the Blind Swordsman style of sword-combat, Daladar used the momentum to dash forth through the mess of this battle, the sheer size of himself combined with his sword to push them away, the varying circular motions with which he gained momentum pulling him into the direction rquired. These machines seemed to take in his weapon as a liability for its size, they were of course, wrong. A very small, near infinitessimal portion of his arm became covered by his armlet, the requirement of the item's curse for him to be able to fully wield his weapon in this battle. Gripping with one hand, Daladar sped through the battle field, stabbing the ground with the tip of his feet as a blue blur flashed around him.

[ January 20, 2006, 05:19 AM: Message edited by: Galen ]