Monster Encounter's Story

(So I rolled for this encounter. Could have been worse...could have been a lot better. This will be interesting)

For that whole time, it seemed like the air was still. As the soldiers had dropped and talked, nothing seemed to appear. However, if they had done even the slightest bit of research into flight paths, danger ratings, and listened to the veteran adventurers that had acquired enough skill and power over their lives to far surpass normal existences on other worlds, they might have realized that this was all horribly wrong.

Simply put, it was almost as if there was no motion. And after awhile, people might find that strange. Not even animals, which also existed on Origin in numerous amounts, were around.

And maybe, just maybe...if they did not catch it in time, their soldiers might start disappearing into this air as well, one by one, two by two. After all, there was nothing there except them. It was all very mysterious. And if one were to move around, they wound find it difficult to find anything, even if they were hidden or even invisible!

(So, the creature details are set already, but its up to your soldiers intelligence (and maybe luck) to try and determine what they are, if they can notice them in time. Good luck. I mean, I find it hard to think your first team, with a certain spandex wearer, will get wiped out, but lets see just how they react to things outside their perceptions? :P )

(Ah, since I have to point out I prefer PVE fights to PVP, especially in writing, these are NPCs so I don't particularly care what happens to them. So, no real bias from me, because technically this is a PVE fight. (: )

(That said, fights are more fun when they are intense and have risk...easy fights tend to be boring)

It really was subtle, Sgt. Crawford didn't realize just how still the air had been until it was too late. Her eyes narrowed, and every second of her training kicked in to suppress adrenalin as her gaze swept the LZ. All the men had been talking, swapping jokes with the strange bald man herself included. She swore under breath, she had a goddamn ponytail, how could she not notice the wind?

Her blood started to run cold, and for a moment she wasn't quite sure what to do.

Her slate gray eyes fell on Pvt. Lenns by chance, they locked with eachother, and each was about to nod in agreement when it happened - all though nothing at all really happened. One moment Pvt. Lenns was there, the next she wasn't. It was like someone just deleted her from existance. Lydia's eyes shot wide, and she tried to jam her helmet on.

By now the rest of the Airborne Rangers had noticed something was wrong.

"Sarge, what in the unholy fu-" Cpl. Kelm was cut off by a horrific scream. It was Lenns', and it was sheer agony. A sick crunching like sound accompanied each howl. For a split second, as her drop helmet slid over her head, Lydia Crawford's mind shut off. It rebooted with the pressurizing hiss. The familiar green HUD didn't even have time to fully load before she had the loud speakers running.

With a kick off the ground, and a simple click of the gauntlet, and the hyper-propellant burners of her chute roared to life, taking her airborn as she shouted.

"Charlie, Oscar Mike now, up, up!"

The remaining eight Airbornes already had helmets on, and burners primed. They kicked off in near unison, but someone always had to be unlucky. Pvt. Garson was just a little too slow, and as he sprung away his lower body exploded with pain.

"Aaarghh!" The man glanced down, both legs cleanly torn, and hemorrhaging blood like a broken dam. Adams instrictively spun towards the scream, about to gun it to his wounded commrade, but a firm hand stopped him. He thrashed widly before spinning to face I captor. All the whole they gained height, doing their best to escape the hellish vortex.

"Sarge..?" The usually jovial voice was wrought with confusion, and pain. Nobody could see it, but tears streamed down his face.

He shook against his commander, trying to break free of her. It didn't make any sense.

"Stop it!" He trashed against her, but it was useless, Sgt. Crawford steadily dragged him up.

"There's nothing you can do, Adams." Her voice was hollow, and the words echoed in the medic's ear.

"Nothing a can do?" Her jerked violently, straining her grip. They seemed to be above whatever was attacking them now, they could feel air again.

Lydia merely shook her head.

She, and Adams looked down at the wounded man, he was trying to stop the bleeding in his legs, slowly sinking back down. His arms were pure crimson, and his fingers so slick with his own blood he couldn't get a grip. One injection, one damn injection, and the medic could stabilize him.

"Gorgon's don't leave man behind!" Adams was howling with rage now.

The Sergeant turned, motioning two others to come grab him. As if on cue Garson disappeared into more crunching sounds. They arrived just as she shuddered, releasing him to their grips.

She floated back a bit, nodding. "You're right, we don't." Her tone was mournful, but that was quickly swept away. "So I'm going back in for the bald guy." She motioned to Cpl. Gitz. "Get the Ranger on the horn, and shoot if you can get a target. This is what we trained for, gentlemen."

With a flourish, and gritted teeth Lydia dove back into the fray, leaving her troops circled above it.

The stillness of the air was one of the things that, although he had noticed it, Saitama had chosen to ignore as he conversed with Sgt. Crawford and her team. They seemed like an agreeable bunch. Not very prepared, though. But he was he too talk? Saitama was about to share with them a story of one of his previous battles when a strange feeling hit him. He couldn’t pin what it was but something felt like it was off.

His eyebrows perked up when he saw one of the soldiers vanish. Well that was weird. It was like she teleported somewhere, but where would she be going at a time like this? Saitama ruled out the possibility of teleportation when he heard bones breaking from … somewhere. Somewhere that he couldn’t currently see. It was clear that they were no longer alone. But what was it that had joined them? A monster of some sort, no doubt—here to try its hand at taking on everyone’s favorite average hero.

As the soldiers went airborne, another of their members were attacked by the mysterious force. This time, a man’s legs exploded before his very eyes. He looked around with a bemused and quite frankly, distressed expression.



He considered going to Pvt. Garson's aid and perhaps even whisking him away from whatever was attempting to massacre them all at the moment. However, moving him would likely make his condition worse, and he would have no way of helping him even if he did. He was good at punching things--that was about it. When the remains of the Private disappeared into the void, Saitama took that as his cue to leave.

The caped hero leapt into the air with a powerful jump, covering the distance between himself and the group of soldiers in an instant. To his surprise, he nearly plowed into Sgt. Crawford, and he surely would have if he hadn't rotated his body so that she sailed right by him. His momentum carried him a little bit above the rest of the group so he could have a clear view of the area they previously occupied.

"Get behind me! You're not going to want to get caught up in what's coming next." Saitama shouted.

He gave the group, Sgt. Crawford included, enough time to do as he had instructed. Then, he drew his fist back in preparation for a punch. Then, he thrust his fist forward. The sheer force produced by his punch created a powerful gust of wind that rushed forward and threatened to blow anything caught in its path several thousand feet away.

BOOM!

That was the sound of Saitama's fist breaking the sound barrier. He wasn't sure what it was that was attacking them but this would let them know if it these creatures were currently occupying their physical plane.

"You all should get out of here. I can handle myself." he said.

The still air was completely shattered and broken by the punch, as dust went everywhere. It covered the area, making it hard to see or hit anything. Even if thermal vision was used, all they would see is OPM. Nothing of the monsters that...no, if one looked carefully, there were odd signatures. Distorted, dead or dying, but there...it was as if the creature did not fully exist in their dimension, that it only visited....but was what appeared to be the distorted and mere parts of those five monsters enough?

If one looked through the Monsterdex, they would find it. Dimeraptors, a monster that can bite through reinforced steel enchanted with hardiness. Capable of phasing in and out of dimensions, and maintaining themselves in a state not capable of being perceived, they can zip in and out of the dimensions to attack their prey. Because of their reaction speeds, it is better to go in for melee combat then stay at range, but only experts can do this. Thankfully they only seem to appear in areas with a high concentration of mana, as if they spread through the villages many innocents would die.

However, that was not the only thing happening. At the same time, a rather large creature seemed to make an appearance, leaping through the sky. It was larger then a car for sure, but seemed to possess strength and nimbleness. It was a superior species in the area, and got annoyed at being woken up. Most notably however was that other then the noise, it was completely unaffected by that punch...and, it had a weird aura to it.

It looked at the soldiers, and anything that flied, as a tasty snack...and began breathing in air with enough force that would threaten to pull a VTOL out of the sky!

The heavy McMillan handled like silk thanks to the SPIDER, and Lt. Graves of the Origin Rangers laid it over his left arm. He couldn't even feel the weight, to top it off the moment he got into position, the stock squarely shouldered, he locked the suit. Most of it anyway, his right arm, and neck were free to move, to line up the perfect shot.

Out of habit the Ranger closed his left eye as he leaned in on the sights.

It immediately merged with the SPIDER H.U.D, and not only was the harrowing scene almost two miles away visible through the digital scope, so was everything else. It displayed the current wind speed, accurate direction, the formula for gravity per inch, and drop calculated by known velocity to the right. It did everything but aim the shot, and that was because targeting at this far out took minutes.

The Airborne guys didn't even have twenty seconds.

It was almost surreal really, he'd been halfway to the Den when he heard the second sonic boom. He scribbled up the nearest cliff to find a slight vantage, a little rocky shelf jutting out in this case, and took aim. About then the big thing showed up, and it was all reflex from there. An eight foot sentienal watched the battle, over ten years of hunting mythic beasts under its belt, holding his breath.

Waiting.

The second the beast opened its mouth he squeezed back on the trigger slow. Like thunder the .50 bleached out flame, and lead. The scope looked so drastically off target, but Graves knew it was on point. It would take a few seconds for the round to reach its mark, and assuming it did the devastation would likely be severe.

All he could do was watch, though.

Pale mists stained the air following Saitama’s punch. In delivering such a powerful attack, he not only provided he and his party with some relief from their invisible attackers, but also that the creatures were made of flesh and blood after all. The sight of mangled limbs bleeding out onto the damp ground conjured images of the raptors that lived on his planet, in the distant past. He recalled learning a few things about them on a video documentary once. However, he suspected that any information he could recall would be of little use to him here. This was a different planet entirely, after all.

“I don’t think they’ll be bothering us anymore.” Saitama noted.

He heard a resounding thud in the distance moments before a titan of a beast appeared before him. Its appearance was lackluster but one thing did catch his attention: that his punch had done nothing to the monster. Usually that would have been enough to fell something of its size. Weird. He would just have to hit it harder the next go round.

Or perhaps not. It all depended on how the round fired by the distance shoulder would fair against this new enemy. So, Saitama maintained a passive position for the time being.

The Bittrend Mountains.

A place known as a gathering spot for some of the most dangerous and powerful monsters reside.

Known for having various Dragons, both sentient and wild, make their nests there and cause trouble for the unprepared, or even sometimes the prepared. It was possibly one of the most dangerous places on the entire planet.

And now, near one of the few roads that can be safely traveled, relatively, through this area, a large group of Orcs had made a stronghold and had been attacking innocent people. Civilians, children, any who cross their path they annihilated. The mountains were known for common blizzards and snowstorms, as well as severe ice related Magus Weather such as Shatterstorms and Icicle Rain. That was why it was able to last for this long undetected. This situation was extremely dangerous to the point of death.

The Orcs were led by one of the most evolved of their species, an Orc King. He possessed abilities that would let him challenge and pose danger to even some of the mightiest on the planet, especially with his subordinates. Not just normal orcs, but those of exceptional ability like Orc Mages, Berserkers, and Generals were gathered. Many had high quality weapons and armor, and the Mages could cast a variety of exceptional magic. Needless to say, it was a terror for most people to travel to this area.

No, it could be said to be suicidal. The Orcs numbers were in the triple digits. At least 150, maybe even 200. No single sane person would be seen here on their own.

"Awwww....I think I got lost again..."

But nearby, out of sight from the Orcs for the time being, the son of the very concept of Death, Crimson Reaper, was wandering after having gotten seriously lost to a point where one would wonder how. One might think it was comedic, and maybe it could be said to be, but in truth getting lost in locations like this was a serious issue for someone who could rip a whole in space to travel to a place as they could sometimes...malfunction.

No matter where she was sent, who sent her, or what she was capable of, recon was recon. A sigh escaped Ayla, although all it served to do was fog up the inside of the rebuilt-yet-again-woman’s helm, and add to her frustration. Huddled high up in a frosted pine under a thermal sheet, spooning a Heavy Coil .50 for three solid days had stretched her patience far too thin. Once famous for these kinds of missions, she know found that the mound of snow that had settled on top of her was a constant reminder of how useless she’d been for the last six hours. Her finger reflexively twitched against the rifle’s trigger.

“Don’t you even.” The deep, static-laced voice of her Ops Intel Commander echoed through her helm’s audio. She had honestly forgotten just how closely they were watching her.

“Trigger discipline, ma’am.” He chided, over the crackling “kksshhhkk” of the com.

Ayla knew better than to trust the feigned humor, or how cheery, and helpful he played himself off as. She couldn’t twitch without him saying something, and that made the usually autonomous agent nervous. She shifted her weight a little, just enough to send the HC50‘s scope dropping in response.

“Thank you ma’am.” kksshhhkk

“Right..” Ayla’s normally elegant voice was lost in pure exasperation.

Ayla pulled back from the scope, and up ended the rifle, letting it come to rest against the her shoulder. As she stared out across the compound she felt absolutely helpless. Hyper-eidetic memory or not, every single stone of that encampment was burned into her mind. Every stretch of foot-carved road, every ramshackle hunter’s hut, to every Elite’s stone town was lodged firmly in place. It was so bad she could pick out every single one of the forty-seven roasting pits they had, and she knew a fair amount of each orc’s daily routines, but it didn’t matter.

She didn’t have a “battle plan”, and she couldn’t move until The Gorgon himself had accepted one.

“This is an arm pump.” She hissed into her com.

“I know you feel that way, but rules are rules.” kksshhhkk

With a disgusted groan she lowered her weapon, and once more got behind the scope. She scanned around the entire structure again, hoping for inspiration to dawn, when the crosshair came to settle on the main gate. As far as Ayla could tell it was how the Orcs here had risen to any form of power. They had started by building a toll gate there, right dead in the middle of the only road leading through the particularly narrow Sheercliff Valley, and it seemed to have allowed them to consolidate. She stared down at the portcullis, a massive, red steel-work grid set into a solid stone recess, with two of the green brutes stood guard at all hours.

It was the only feasible way in, but the Gorgon didn’t care for it due all the defensive turrets. She understood that, but what choice was there? Even before all of her new augments, she could’ve gotten this job done on day one. Facing a serious of risk of a nervous break down if she had to sit there any longer, Ayla rolled the dice.

“I’ve got a plan.” She grunted, to no one in particular.

“Okay, let’s hear it!” kksshhhkk The overly bubbly persona her handler had clearly adopted for sadistic reasons almost made her want to vomit.

“I punch one of the guards, and go in.” The line fell into dead silence immediately, and she couldn’t help but smirk. It was the first time in three days the moron on the other end of her only contact with the outside world didn’t have a sunshine-fueled come back. It felt like a small victory.

“They said you were a tactical genius.” A new voice cut in, one she vaguely recognized through the low quality audio. Gil Isom himself, the mighty Gorgon. “A tactical genuis, specifically. That was the phrase,” he sighed, “Three days unnoticed, and you give me 'I punch the guard’?” His tone was everything except friendly.

“You sent me in alone, you wanted the approach at my discretion.” she said. Ayla wasn’t really good at back-talking superiors, despite wracking up two defections, but playing along was getting her nowhere. She knew her only hope of ever stretching her legs at this point was convincing the overly stoic old man on the other end of the line that this, in fact, was a plan.

“You see, sir, I’m doing exactly that.” she really hoped her bullshitting skills had improved since her last job. “I’ve stared at this cesspit for three friggin’ days straight. I’ve gauged these creatures as best I can, and it is my opinion, in two decades of experience with these situations, that I can handle this with a direct confrontation.” she winced. “Sir.”

The line went dead again, and for three agonizing moments Ayla waited with held breath.

“Clearance granted.” kksshhhkk

Ayla stood up slowly, slinging the rifle over her shoulder, and going over the encampment in her mind. She could recall every inch, every pebble on the road, every snow-heavy tree with sagging branches, all of it. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and melted into a mental vision of the area. Immediately her thoughts began to race, every route, every possible scenario unfolding one after another as fast as possible. She could feel her skin heating up, her eyes racing back, and forth, and although the disconcerting sensation only lasted a few seconds, she hated it.

When she opened her eyes a few seconds later though, everything was different.

She had her plan, she knew the exact place every one of her feet would fall for the next six-thousand, two-hundred, and ninty-one feet. A seemingly vast expanse, it seemed almost a trifle to her already, and a smile crossed her lips as she did the math in her head. It would take her a grand total of eight seconds to get there, to be down the road, and at her target. Every muscle in her body rippled as she turned, and the moment she picked her foot up the hunt was on.

From zero, to five-hundred forty-one in a blink, Ayla took off from the tree like a rocket. Her volatile acceleration generated a massive shower of pink lightning, the sparks instantly setting the tree ablaze. She looked back over her shoulder, and watched, the world moving as if it was soaked in amber to her. She was halfway down the road as the very first ember touched the tree, letting her catch the sizzle right before the flames erupted. A beautiful sight in it’s own way.

Like an arrow she shot down the road, and directly towards the left-most Orc guard. Her fist was cocked back, ready to deliver the world’s fastest sucker punch.

There was quiet in the forest, the gentle stirrings of the usual forest life hushed by the dead of winter. The Orcs that had moved in were probably not helping matters either. Echo pondered what to do about the stronghold of green-skinned brutes as she wandered barefoot through the snow. She loved the chill of cold, but had been wandering for a few hours and would likely wander for a few more so she had relented and cast a warding over herself to endure the cold. The fallen snow crunched underneath her feet, creating a quiet music as she walked. Her partner and life-long friend, walked alongside her and added his own muted melody.

The Spear of Lugh walked slowly alongside her, having been given the form of a large stuffed bear, almost a full foot taller than her and much wider. "Sigh, nobody gets me Lugh, it's always 'Ahh stop stabbing me' or 'i actually would prefer not to be on fire' it's such a bore!" She threw her hands up in mock desperation, and let herself fall into the snow. "If you really want to wow a girl you got to show her a good time. Take her out for a bite to eat, and nothing's hotter than someone who can catch their own food." Her mind began to wander to the last time she dismembered and ate something sentient with a friend. Too long...

Lugh, bent down to pick Echo up, throwing her over his stuffed shoulder. She was one hundred and thirty pounds of ferocity, but he picked her up like she was the stuffed one. "I came to ride and slay dragons, and not necessarily in that order..." She huffed a stray piece of hair from her face and enjoyed the gentle rocking of the stuffed bear's stride. She had run into Orcs earlier, four of them. When one of them dared lay a hand on her, she lost herself in a fit of passion. Thinking about the way the first one's blood misted onto her face as Lugh barely opened his external carotid artery. She could almost still taste the iron on her tongue from gasping when the blood hit her delicate little cheeks. The thought, even then, did not fail to excite her. "Now my heart's all a flutter.... Lugh where is everyone...? We haven't seen any thing worth killing for miilllesss!" She turned the last word into a groan as she began to pretend beat at the bear's back with her fists.

Like a broken spell there was an explosion from not to far off. Is that.... Do I hear... "Is someone attacking the Orc stronghold, alone!?" She bit at her lip as her eyes rolled back slightly. "Some random darling is after my own heart. Cut it out and serve it up to them on a platter, Lugh, darling take me to my knight in shining armor!" The stuffed bear nodded its assent and began to sprint, only around fourty or so miles an hour, it was impressive if you considered the fact that stuffed bears dont usually move.

Rokket could barely contain herself, and was fidgeting with nervous excitement, when she noticed a little boy lost in the winter forest. He looks entirely too comfortable to be human... Shame, children are so tender. She winked at the boy as the bear carried her past, and barely whispered "Let's play ?" She conjured a tulip, bright pink, and threw it to the boy, as the bear continued to carry her further and further away.

Today might prove to be a little fun after all Echo day-dreamed to herself, thinking about how bland things had been up until then. "I could use a shot of something fierce to jolt my senses!" She clapped a fist into her palm, and started nodding enthusiastically to herself. A boy that smelled of nothing artificial; the color of blood. So shortly after I was complaining too! I'm not one to test fate... A finger idly found its way to her hair, as she began to twirl a lock between her fingers. Lightning, a dazzling pink cascade, and the thunderous aftershock ~ "My Knight has certainly outdone themselves this time," she blushed as thoughts of her knight raced through her head. "Lugh, pick up the pace!"

The stuffed bear began to heave its legs, pushing almost seventy miles per hour as it barreled directly passed a flaming tree. Lugh turned to face someone clad in shining armor, just in time for it's back to barrel into the gate of the stronghold, breaking through the barrier like it was nothing and falling awkwardly to the ground. It quickly stood back up, and stepped out of the wreckage, depositing Rokket on the ground. "Hiya!" She giggled, waving to the knight in shining armor. She's more beautiful than I could have ever imagined... she thought to herself, inhaling deeply to get the girl's scent. Her heart raced looking at the impossibly quick human; after a moment she remembered herself and curtsied to the Knight.

THe Orc Stronghold was a place that exuded terror and fear. It contained a large number of Orcs, included Orcs that had evolved into a higher species, and there were various problematic enemies such as Orc Mages and others. In fact, there were several types of Orcs that went entirely unnoticed.

So a single person appearing from nowhere was a shock to them.

The Orcs were taken a bit aback as a woman, as Ayla, appeared in front of their eyes. They truly had no idea of why such a thing was happening, nor had it really cared for them. Orcs were a race of entirely males. They reproduced by using the species of other humanoid monsters at times, but what they loved the most was females of other sentient species such as humans, elves, or dwarves as they had a higher chance of producing stronger and more advanced Orcs such as Orc Mages.

However, the moment that fist was sent, the orc that would be pummeled into it would have his body skip through the gate and across the ground until it finally stopped. Because it was a normal orc that was caught by surprise, it had been sufficient to break it's neck from the various impacts on the ground. Orcs were tougher then humans, but they could still be killed.

Almost immediately though, another Orc on watch raised a horn. First was the signal for enemy attack, and the other was...something rather vulgar. After all, they could not help but view Ayla as someone who they could use at their pleasure.

As this horn was raised, countless Orcs of all types emerged to fight Ayla. Orc Mages and Archers took the high ground and prepared to bombard her with extremely accurate arrows and magic that would chase after her. Orc Knights and Generals wearing heavy armor and using real weapons would surround her and try to cut her to pieces. Although not all the Orcs could arrive at once, one could not help but notice their sheer number.

However, there were a few Orcs in the back that looked even stronger then all the others. Instead of carelessly charging at Ayla, they planned to observe her and then make a plan accordingly. In other words, they would use their enhanced orc eyes, observe how Ayla fought and acted, and then fight her accordingly with the support of the Orc Arch-Mages they had.

Meanwhile, two Orc scouting parties that had heard the horn were now returning from two separate directions. Either fortunately or unfortunately though, their paths ended up being right through a few certain people.

Crimson came across several Orc Ninjas, a very bizzare mutation of Orc. That was because they had a few special abilities, were far more agile then normal Orcs, could move stealthily, and had a diverse skillset. They were truly a higher species of Orc.

And once they found Crimson, when they noticed him they all had wicked smiles on their faces. Orcs did not mind tormenting any living creature, and had a very malicious reputation.

Crimson however could sense that, he could sense their Concept of Creation. A vulgar and wicked species.

"You people...are mean jerks...I should exterminate you all".

Speaking in a childish voice, Crimson just smiled innocently at them as he came to a decision. He was not angry, well he was sort of angry at the cruelty of their Concept, but he believed it would be best if he had some fun while cleaning the area of such a bad Concept. The Orc Ninjas that moved faster then most of their race charged towards him, but he brought out his Scythe while stepping to the side and cut one clean through.

"After I finish with you all, I should get rid of the rest of...you....oh hey, a pink tulip. I didn't think those grew here. Well, now I definently have to make you leave the home of this flower".

A lifetime of wars, years lost alone in an alien jungle, and a planet worth of corpses to her name did nothing to prepair Ayla for Origin. She came from a mess of grit, and blood, a place where tanks, and mechanization were the kings. Bullets, and the scent of cordite were her medium, not extremely fast, seemingly sentient teddy bears. The deep, orange-ish red visor of her helm concealed her expression of horror.

Every agent knew just how surreal it was to watch a "carefully" laid plan come to ruins, but watching a massive stuffed bear come sprinting out of the wild blue yonder was a bit much.

The fact that Ayla was still in full swing made it worse, the entire world was moving at a snail's pace around her. She watched each step the bear took, each heave of it's chest. Her head turned, completely ignoring the Orc she had sent flying in favour of the newcomer.

"Holy shit." Ayla was free to speak, right now anything she said was going far beyond audible perception. "I've been here for three days, and now a teddy bear storms in? Hell no."

The bear's back finally connected with the gate, and the speedster watched with amusement as the slapdash structure came apart. She tapped her foot at over a thousand beats per minute, impatiently waiting while the creature crashed to the ground, and picked itself back up. Her eyebrow cocked as it put what appeared to be a person down.

"Hiya!" The high-pitched voice sounded horrible at the speed Ayla mantained, and as the newcomer curtsied she decelerated herself.

"Uh..." Ayla kind of stammered, her normally regal barring missing. "Hi?" She offered a shrug, and if on cue the other Orc butted in via horn.

"Oh, good goddamn." She moaned.

Ayla shot forward in the span of a blink, the energy she procuded created a violent pink lightning storm in the passage way, and a powerful blast of air trailing behind. The pink streak that she'd become blew past the bear, past a squad of Orcs, and blistered its way through the camp. It seemed like her method was shifting from "methodical" to "impulse" as fast as she could run.

---

"Hi there!" She shouted, coming to a skidding stop in front of a fire pit.

Six orcs, tall for their kind, sat huddled around it. Their pale green hides all bore a webway of scars, tusks were chipped, and their armor was patchwork. Ayla immediately noticed that part of the middle Orc's armor was Gorgon made, which meant they were berserkers. The mighty, raging brutes who collected pieces from the fallen like trophies. She shuddered a little, but remained glib.

"Can I borrow that?" She gestured to the pit innocently.

"Wot.." grunted one of the Orcs. He pushed himself up, standing at nearly twice Ayla's height with a wicked smirk. "Did a fuckin' 'uman bitty just ask for me meats?"

The other Orcs chuckled, a sadistic rumble of a sound, and began getting up one by one. The massive weapons casually slung over their hips made Ayla a bit nervous, but she stood her ground.

"Uh-huh, she did."

The Orcs chuckled again, and the talkative one made a rather rude gesture in her direction.

"We got plenty a meats!" He roared, the others joining his vulgarites. "Step up!"

Voooom

In half a second she raced past them, grabbed the roasting spit, and returned to get exact spot. The Orcs, all of them, just blinked.

"Wot.."

"Thanks!" She waved the still flaming stick around a bit. "I'll bring it right back." Ayla gave the berserkers a wink they couldn't see, and bolted before they became slavering heaps of bloodlust.

Her pink bolts disappeared almost instantly, and the blast-back from her launch knocked the remaining food onto the ground, and extinguished the fire.

"What a bitch." Grumbled an Orc.

---

She wove her way past the Orcs who decided to rush the gate, taking a careful inventory of each on the way. The headcount for the immediate response was in the double-digits, and a flicker of worry swept through Ayla's heart. She figured whatever the girl, and bear were could handle a few orcs, maybe even a few dozen. A platoon, though, a cabal of mages?

Ayla ducked under the arm of an Orc who decided to feature his orders, she really didn't like how quickly they were organizing.

"Excuse me," she chirped, appearing on front of him. "Can you point me to the gate?" She rubbed the back of her neck in mock-embarrassment as the monsters around her began to converge. "I think I lost my way.."

The brute locked eyes with her visor, his throbbing a deeper, darker red than before. With surprising speed he drew his axe, and bellowed.

"KILL HER!"

"Really, guy?" She wiped a thick string of Orc-saliva off her helmet with a growl. "That's just rude."

Like a coiled snake she struck, a lifetime of martial arts training taking over as her rocket of a fist smashed into the brute's throat. He crunched under the pressure, a sickening, loud sound like ribs cracking as neck gave way. He reached for the pain instinctively, and as he began to suffocate the woman in pink just nodded.

"Better, now if you'll be so kind, I have a delivery to make." As soon as the last syllable passed her lips, Ayla was gone in a flash of lightning.

The bolt shot around a corner, handling it like it was in rails, and stormed toward a the broken gate. The woman inside gabe the clock of her H.U.D a quick glance as she approached, if it was accurate she'd been gone for seven whole seconds. It made her smile as she lifted the roasting skewer, centering it on the back of the second gate-guard's skull.

"This might be mes- Holy fuck!"

The sharp wooden pole collided dead center at Ayla's extreme speed. It easily tore its way clear through him, jutting out the other side with a violent gout of blood. Ayla snuck a peak around the brute, still clutching the stick inbedded in him. She really hoped she hadn't given the bear a gore-shower.

"I thought he looked kinda hungry.." She trailed off, offering a nervous giggle.

Rokket's face flushed bright red as she dreamily looked up at her knight. Impossibly well-built, like someone has been rooting around in your body. Making changes... Oh she seems put off.... A horn sounded by a nearby Orc knocked her from her day dreaming, the thoughts about someone rooting around in her Knight leaving her envious as the blur sped away, Rokket's eyes barely able to greedily follow the pink flash as she raced over to a fire-pit, admiring the beautiful way she moved like a perfect Sidhe knight. Her supple second skin shined luxuriously, the photons cascading beautifully off it and Echo drank in every second of the wild melody.

"Oops, Lugh it seems I disrupted her tempo at the worst moment," her lower lip quivered as she pretended to fight back tears. The stuffed bear took an arrow from a specialized Orcish bow, the arrow being more like a short spear as it slammed into the bear's back and clattering to the ground. "Okay, I like, was NOT done pouting." Her eyes glowered with rage at the quickly assembling horde of green-skinned oafs. She quickly sought out the one who was knocking another arrow, and with a thought the stuffed bear became the long vines of climbing roses, wrapping carefully up and around Rokket's arm. The vines caught another arrow, only inches from Rokket's face and she eyed another archer by the first.

"Return thyself to the cycle of providence, the five elements to elements and sever the links woven between falsehoods and truth," her arm glowered, as she chirped off the practiced phrase in Sylvan in barely a half-second. The roses on her arm quivered, petals falling and drifting on the wind, the scent of roses filling the air. A bright flash of white light engulfed the Orc archers, and more than a few of their nearby fellows, vaporizing them and dissipating as suddenly as it had appeared. Wind billowed slightly, as the spell simply dismantled what it touched, breaking them down to their base elements and creating an air pressure difference. It wasn't her favorite method of murder, but she figured I have bodies to spare this time ~

By now the Orcs were fully mobilizing, spewing off insults and threats of a vicious raping. I doubt they could even pleasure me! What was practically an entire platoon of heavily armored Orcs soldiers, was approaching and Echo's heart had began to race with blood-lust. She snapped her fingers, the rose vines being replaced in only an instant by thousands of floating dirks. They were so numerous they almost created a bubble of floating steel as they hovered between her and would be attackers. She sent them out cautiously, using half to shield herself and the other to find the exposed fleshy bits of the Orc armor; directing them like an Orchestra Conductor, as they swam through the air to a rhythm only she could hear.

The second guard stood in a stunned silence, his mouth unable to form the words his small brain was so desperately trying to conjure. He dropped the horn and fumbled for his ax, drawing it and and swinging down with all his might onto the cloud of daggers. The enchanted metal ax clanged uselessly off of Lugh, and the Orc raised his arm for another desperate heave.

"You's gonna be a good fuckin' onc-" The Orc was cut off with a brilliant squelch and a rain of viscera as a wooden bolt exploded through him. He dropped his ax, clutching at his newfound piercing in bewilderment, as if unaware he were already dead. The dirks caught most of the gore as the Orc's intestines vacated the premises, however they could do nothing to shield her from the blood that leaked through the cloud of dirks, like a sadistic scarlet rain. It almost brought a tear to the sidhe girl's eye. "Such a beautiful and thoughtful gift from the Knight I just met..." Rokket's heart raced, threatening to tear free from her chest that it might profess it's undying infatuation with the graceful stranger.

My sweet ? The dirks became a single long spear, and Echo gripped it halfway up it's haft. "Sciath," she spoke, casting a defensive abjuration over herself before launching herself into the air at the nearest Orc, driving Lugh down into his neck at an angle, her feet perched on his shoulders as she used the spear-head to stir his trachea. It clutched at it's throat desperately, watching her as she sprang off him; spirally three times backwards and with a point of her index finger the pixie's spear flew from his neck, squelching into the eye of the nearest onlooking Orc, his close friend Kleg. His compatriot fell unceremoniously and the sudden finality of it made the Orc gasp, still clutching at his ruined throat, the blood filling his lungs in a cruel instant.

Rokket landed on her feet, raising her hands like a gymnast, and imagining an applause. "Oh!" the pixie exclaimed, having found herself on the wall of the stronghold. "I put a little too much gusto into that one ♡" Lugh, the spear reappeared at it's mistress's side, seemingly phasing in from nowhere and dispersing into a wall of dirks. Now where did he get off to... The thought started to crescendo as she pressed a hand to her forehead, exaggeratedly searching for the red-haired boy she had given the tulip to.

WHat had to be dozens of Orcs were watching Ayla with now murderous, and still vulgar, eyes. However, one might note their formation was odd. There was no single line they were in now, in other words they were adapting to her tactics with each minute, each second. The Orcs organized themselves more and more, far more then Orcs usually would. It was clear now, they had commanders, a leader, that had organized them.

And then, large amounts of magic bolts rained down from the sky right at Ayla! At the same time, other strange darker bolts were shot out from elsewhere, out of Ayla's sight and began to raise the dead in a strange fashion. The Orcs came back from the dead for sure, but something about it seemed differently. They certainly did not seem like normal zombies, they looked like they were fully raised from the dead. Their souls had been forcibly pulled, their death negated. That was because of an object the Orc King had recently acquired from a shipment they recently raided. It had surprisingly poor security, perhaps it was a black market convoy. But what was contained was an extremely powerful Necronomicon, it was so old it wouldn't be strange to call it the oldest in the world...no, the universe.

And so the Orcs raised from the dead perfectly back to being alive, and would continue to create trouble. In fact, several spare resurrection orbs floated around, ready to fly into any orc that died immediately to revive them.

And finally, an Orc appeared at exceptional speed next to Ayla and swung down a greatsword at a speed unseen by any other Orc. This was an Orc Champion, someone who served an Orc King. An extremely dangerous species of Orc.

Meanwhile, as Crimson cut through another Orc Ninja, he felt a massive disturbance....a violation of souls. Whatever had just been done, they had just infringed on and insulted his father with what they did.

"Looks like I gotta do my job as a Reaper now".

Crimson squatted down, and then used the force of him pushing off the ground to jump high into the air and land on a tree branch that overlooked the whole exterior of the fort. That was when he saw a woman surrounded by Orcs, as they maintained a strange formation and launched multiple attacks from all sides on Ayla. Crimson noticed that the Orcs seemed to be the one causing a disturbance. Although he did not see who had whatever had infringed upon the Reaper Domain, he jumped down and cut two Orc Mages that had been firing Tracking Magic Bolts at a distance one after another at Ayla, stopping their rampage.

And that was when he noticed the others as well. Unfortunately, Crimson could be a bit oblivious at times, so it was not surprising for him to totally miss the existence of another unless they directly communicated with him, or was someone he considered an enemy.

"Now...where is that object?"

A flurry of rage, and steel descended on Ayla. The only reason she had bothered to decelerate in the first place was to worn the other woman - who clearly didn't need it. As soon as the curtain of daggers began to coalesce, she took a deep breath, and with a harsh whipping of the wind she took off. She opened her eyes just in time to watch the very last dagger be absorbed into the spear.

Magic was so alien to her, yet so beautiful, and so compelling it drew her up short.

CRACK

A massive slab of steel, crudely hammered into a savage semblance of an axe, and enchanted with extreme weight, connected with the back of her helmet. Ayla shrieked, her forehead smashing against the visor as she went hurtling foreward. Desperately she attempted to flip herself before she fell, but it was pointless, and she hit the stone wall face first. The visor cracked on impact, sending shards of glass straight into her face, but the suit otherwise kept her from broken bones.

"Fuck!" She hissed, pushing herself from the wall with a shake of her head. "I guess standing still is still a ba-"

CRACK

The Orc had persued, and as his prey rebounded he leapt wildly at her. The brute brought his axe down dead center in the middle of her back with both hands, screaming wildly as it drove her to the ground. She twitched a little when she fell, and fearing his new prize was about to vanish again he dropped on-to her, knees first. He howled again, his bloodlust boiling over when he heard something inside the suit break.

It was three of Ayla's ribs, and she stifled a scream as she felt the monster's weight settle. This had gone too far.

Trapped under the weight of a hulk she had only one option, and it brought a smile to her lips. The Orc was enraged by now, he had tossed his weapon aside, emboldened by his well-armed comrades. It was extremely difficult to focus, and Ayla did everything she could to block him out, to listen to the true sound of his wreteched body. She just needed a few precious seconds.

Eyes jamming shut, she focused on the sound of his heart, of his blood vessles flowing, his breath, every aspect that contributed to his organic structure. It was slow, for her, at first, but she managed to managed to piece it together note by note. By the time she had it, she realized the orc was trying to pry off one of the outer plates on the back of her suit, as if it would do anything. A little doubt crept in as she made up her mind, she had never matched frequencies with a living being before, but it was the best idea she had.

"Hey, greenskin," she coughed, choking the words out around a mouthful of blood. When he didn't even grunt in response, she just smiled wider. "Okay," she chuckled, "I tried to warn you.."

Ayla began to shake violently, and her captor mistook it for resistance. Like the idiot she had hoped the Orc was, he tried to put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting up. Two things happened in the span of as many seconds, first the Orc's big, green hand went right through her, and then it exploded. Blood, bone, and ribbons of flesh took to the air at high velocity, and the assailant jumped back, howling in pain.

"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?" He demanded, clutching the stump of his arm, and staring murder at the woman in the dirt.

"NEVERMIND THAT," barked the taller Orc behind him. "JUST GRAB THAT SLA-"

VOOOOMM

Pink lightning flashed, blinding the Orcs around her as Ayla skipped straight to her full speed. She was up, and on her feet in milliseconds, which meant each Orc had just enough time to clutch at his eyes before they died. She froze to survey the first wave of reinforcements, this time making sure not to drop into normal-speed. She desperately searched for a plan, but fury consumed her, and the new playful persona she carried cracked.

Inside was the same brutal, unrelenting Ayla. The goal had shifted in her mind, in her soul. Survival replaced with annihilation.

She wasted no more time in movements, now blitzing from Orc, to Orc like a murderous pinball. Her fists flew like bullets, hammering the orcs without mercy as she danced around a hail of axes, and swords. In her slow motion world it was no great feat, save for the sheer number of attackers. Ayla felt her forehead begin to overheat again as it struggled to calculate a path around so many weapons.

It was a thing of beauty really, with no one to see it, because she no longer slowed down to deliver her blows.

The lightning arced around the field, and each time it collided with an Orc a broken, bleeding, and huddled mass was left behind. Uppercuts broke jaws, severed tongues, and sent the scum reeling, roundhouses left them bent nearly in half, and pushed shattered ribs through lungs. Everytime an Orc blinked a comrade was hit with the force of a freight train, and fell to the side.

A retreat had started much to the commander's fury, and it looked like Ayla was about to really play hero. Until the first arcane missle hit.

She wheeled around, staring at the scorched ground mere inches behind her. Her blood ran cold as she realized her H.U.D had been dead since she hit the wall. Somehow it made her eye hurt more to think about it, but being cut off was far worse. This meant absolutely no missle detection, no Overwatch feed, no comms, it was old school from here on out. Not that she had much time to feel sorry for herself, three more bolts screeched through the sky above her.

"I seriously want a pay raise.."

She watched carefully, almost happy to see something moving at normal speed for once despite what it meant. Once sure they were trained on her Ayla glanced around, firmly trapped between reorganizing reinforcements, and a volley of arcane death.

"A really, really big pay raise."

She was just about peal out when it happened. The biggest Orc she'd seen yet charged out of the blue, and straight towards her. Her jaw dropped as she watched his legs pump at a completely normal speed, and she braced herself when she saw the blade. Both of her eyes began to glow in response, and as she dropped into a ready stance sparks leapt from them. The last thing she wanted to do was over-exert herself this earlier, but if the choice was exertion, or death she knew her answer.

Inhale, exhale..

The already slow world she occupied ground to a near halt as she focused. Even the freakishly fast Orc was reduced to a near-crawl, and she took a difficult step towards him. She was, for the moment, accelerating her personal time-line, which meant interacting with the world was difficult, like pushing through a hurricane. She almost stopped, she gave herself enough room with a few seconda to avoid the blow, but as she got closer to the creature a new idea came to her.

Quickly she trudged her way over to the Champion, and with only a bit of hesitation she did what she had to.

As soon as she was "safe" she dropped the control of her timeline, leaving the Champion in place just beside where she had been, alone. The creature looked around wildly for a moment, desperately searching for it's prey.

"Where the fuck did sh-"

Twenty-two tracking bolts carved through the sky, dipped down into the tunnel, and unceremoniously crashed right into the Orc. He was obliterated on impact, turned into a fine, red mist, with an unharmed Ayla at the center. She had phased into the savage, not through, turning him into a second suit of armor. She swept a bit of gore from her arms, and shrugged at the befuddled remaining orcs.

"Talk about a role-reversal, huh?" She snorted.

After having eliminated some of the Orc Mages on the side that had been bombarding Ayla with magic projectiles, which had also stopped their perfect cage they had her locked in, he had ended up watching the battle. Part of it was because he was childishly engaged with Ayla's fight, and sometimes even went and mimicked her punches and kicks. But he was also studying the movement of the souls, to locate the perversion of death.

This was not normal resurrection. Normally, an enemy would die and then be brought back from the dead. And technically, that would be what it looked like to the two Champions that fell in front of Ayla and Echo. But actually, Crimson could see it through his eyes as a Reaper. They never really died at all. The link between soul and body was still there. At first, Crimson though it was their souls that flew out, and then came back in. A never ending cycle of resurrection. If it was that, it wouldn't be as bad. But Crimson had felt something off, and while he remembered that, he also realized this was different.

Now that he was closer, sitting on one of the walls inside the fortress, he could see it. Not only was this Necronomicon preventing death, it was hiding them from death. It was an insult of the highest order, and something that would throw the entire universe out of whack. It was something that needed to be removed.

The number of Orcs made Crimson a bit worried, but he raised his scythe which was bigger then him still. Crimson normally was not one who ever did work, and was rarely serious. He was the boy who was sweet, lovable, and kind, and who would spread the joy of life to all he encountered. But now...possibly for the first time in his life, he was extremely angry.

At this rate, the Orcs could possibly overwhelm the woman. The only reason the Orcs Crimson killed had stayed dead was because they were further away from the source, and because Crimson who was a Reaper killed them. Crimson's ability as a Reaper was faster then how the spell could reach them, so their souls were already purified and sent away. But, all of those Orcs...well, he wanted to prevent anything happening that would let the perversion get away. So Crimson decided to take action.

And meanwhile, surely enough all the Orcs that Ayla killed reformed in front of her tougher and stronger then ever. Their bodies regenerated, the light returned to their eyes, and they reformed around her. They had the toughness of orcs, the fierceness of orcs, they were being led by an Orc who used strategy and led them, and were now being enhanced by Orcs who was using support and enhancement magic on them.

And to make matters worse, one had to remember this was Origin. Not only did they possess magic and monsters, but also advanced technology. And so, several Orcs came out with assault rifles they had stolen from humans and were about to shoot at Ayla. There were also Orcs like that responding to Echo, they were going to surround her and kill her, and if she tried to escape she would have to go towards the bullets and get killed that way.

Also, both the guns and bullets were enchanted, so one could not apply the logic of normal bullets to them.

And yet, in oen of the main groups that came out, with half of them about to shoot Ayla while the others next to them were just passing to go towards Echo, suddenly a figure in dark clothing with a dash of red hair appeared in the middle while swinging around a huge scythe. It cut through all the Orcs, and they all suddenly split in two as their bodies collapsed. It was an incredible fear that Crimson had done...

Shiza, they must have Orc Arch-Mages...those enhancements were tough. And they had armor on, in addition to normal orc toughness, that was also enchanted. And to think things stronger then these guys still exist on Origin...well, I guess I will show off to power myself up...

Crimson did not let it show that he used more stamina then he thought he would, although admittedly it was nothing serious it had been more then he expected, and stood up while he looked over to the King of the Orcs who looked at him with shock...and a vulgar look. Orcs really are a vulgar species after all, although maybe it could not be helped as it was an only male species.

"Attention scum who would pervert my father, Death itself. I am the Master Reaper, and the son of Death, Crimson Reaper! For your blatent disrespect of the natural laws imposed on this universe, I shall be taking that...perversion...you have acquired, and I will be slaughtering all who get in my way as a Reaper who maintains the balance!"

Several of the Orcs just laughed at Crimson's speech, but for those who could sense power, and even more those who could understand and sense the power of Ideas and Concepts, they would notice that what Crimson had done was just increase the strength of his own Concept. As he was born from two Concepts, by announcing himself like that which you would not normally see in reality, it actually boosted the existence and power of his Concept and made it stronger, which meant his own power would increase. In other words, every word he just uttered boosted his ability.

Several Orcs who did not sense or understand this went after him while laughing vulgarly, but Crimson moved even faster. Ayla who was a master of Momentum herself could notice that the speed he had been at before when he killed those Orcs was him at his max limit, and yet now was moving beyond that and directly went after the Orc King and the Arch-Mage who had hidden himself near the Orc King.

But perhaps as expected of the Orc King, he drew a sword which radiated magic energy and managed to defend against the blow as he ordered one Arch-Mage to blow him away, while he ordered the other to work with the other Orcs and finish Ayla off and then help him defeat this boy. The Orc King, being the strongest, wisest, and most powerful of the Orcs, knew both Ayla and Crimson were threats, and demanded that the Orcs focus solely on Ayla and then after she was dead kill Crimson, with only the few Orcs who were still running out to help deal with Crimson and the other threat instead.

Delay the two while they finish off one completely, that was the plan. And with the power of the Necronomicon, it was a method that should guarantee victory even when it was already certain without it. However...

"Flames of life, recall the prize!"

Crimson flames wrapped around the Necronomicon and carried it inside Crimson's jacket, storing it in a pocket that should have been too small for it.

With that, the Orc Champions the other two were facing would not revive again.

Ayla took a step forward, and as soon as her foot would've touched the soil her sense of reality shifted without warning. A giant, pulsating portal opened up underneath her, wreathed in flames, and with no visible end. Before she could even react, she fell straight into it, a scream welling up in her chest. It slammed shut behind her with a rumble, leaving everyone else unharmed.

Those among the Orcs able to perceive it blinked, unsure of what to think.

At the arrival of the Reaper, Echo grew momentarily distracted. She noticed her knight disappear, having been unable to keep her Sidhe eye off the knight in shining armor for most of the fight. The darned little thing just fell through a portal, and Rokket was just about to leap after her when it swelled shut. She was at a loss, and didn't think the Reaper had taken her, but she was still royally upset about someone "STEALING MY KNIGHT!" She growled out between clenched teeth.

The first Orc recovered from the appearance of the Reaper and the explosion that was the Orc Craeosh, charging the Pixie, fully expecting her to be completely off guard. His inference was on point, and the war-ax crashed down on her shoulder, rending flesh, bone, and sinew alike and lopping her arm off with a satisfying thud. Rokket turned to acknowledge her attacker, and with a disinterested look she raised a hand and launched a flurry of forty or so dirks directly into the poor Orc's brain, or lack thereof. The Sidhe sighed and her gaze turned to her severed arm, right as she was riddled with bullet holes.

As a child of the Tuatha De, Rokket could was nigh immortal. Even after Lugh had been reincarnated weaker thrice times, poisoned, and then hit with a King-Slaying Spear in the heart did he finally start to die. Even then, daddy still took the sword arm of the man who killed him; and after death no less. Determined not to disappoint her family, Lugh became a small, nigh impenetrable barrier around Echo. The barrier looked to be made of the same fabric as her Teddy Bear, and was equally indestructible.

From within; the fairy girl rapidly ran through curative magics, transmutations to maker her stronger and faster, abjurations to mitigate wounds, then evocations, bringing a wall of earth into existence around her and Lugh, and blasting fire outside the wall to incinerate those mindless buffoons. She didn't expend TOO much energy, but it was still a little tiring for the young lady, and she could feel her breathing deepen with the effort. "Lugh darling, I can't die before I find my darling Sidhe knight..." Her voice seemed to echo throughout her tiny cavern, even though the fabric should've absorbed most sound. Rokket flexed her new arm, stitched together through white hot lancets of pain, it functioned just as well as her old arm; she decided fervently before allowing Lugh to cover her in a bubble of Dirks, so that she may rejoin the fray.