There was a loneliness to the new arena that materialized around them that made goosebumps crawl across Ingrid’s arms.
The cool breeze that rustled through the dry leaves of the single tree was welcome after the constant hellfire they had been pit against. Although there was something particularly dark about it that set her on edge, something corrupted. The air smelled overly sweet, like there was something rotting in the colourless void.
Where the rot was, she could not say. There was only the tree, something vile about it that made her urge her pegasus as high as the arena would allow, lest something monstrous erupt from it once more.
She was drawn back into the present by the shout of her golden-haired teammate, naming their team, then pausing, seeming confused.
She frowned. Four? Hadn’t they been five?
Owain walked up to the lonesome tree as Ingrid sent a prayer to the goddess. She still wasn’t particularly devout, but she could only hope that the goddess was protecting their lost teammate, and she was somewhere far from any fire or magma.
The stench of rot grew, no longer a faint scent but an overpowering, sickly sweetness that coated the back of Ingrid’s throat and made her gag. She watched as three figures slowly unfurled from the roots of the tree, as though they had been saplings and she and her teammates the compost meant to fertilize their rotting growth.
It was even more unnerving than the lonely tree, as though she were staring at shadows made flesh. Their movements seemed watery, and yet she had no doubt that when they attacked their weapons would land true.
Owain’s voice called out once more, bestowing on them each resplendent, if not slightly outrageous monikers.
“Gallant defender of justice, hm?” she hummed as she murmured to herself, flipping her lance in midair. It arced above her, a silver glint in the air. It had a nice ring to it, although she’ much rather receive a heroic title once, if she ever, became a true knight.
At first her allies surged forward towards their enemies, until a monstrous shadow stretched long over them.
She turned in time to take note of the stone giant. A monster wielding far too many weapons in far too many arms. The other creatures slipped from her memory, although the rotting smell still clung to her senses as she shot forward. There would be no room for hesitation now.
There was no fire in this arena, and although the air was foul, Ingrid’s mind felt clear, sharp. Hopefully the blade of her lance would be equally as sharp.
Ingrid 10/10 HP hits Stone Idol 10/10* HP at Melee with Gradivus. [Roll 8+4 = 12; -2+2/2, Stone Idol 8/10* HP]
Ingrid allowed herself a small smile as her blow landed true. There was only a small chip where her blade had landed, but it was enough to know that she had struck the stone monster, had managed at least one hit.
One hit would surely lead to two hits, then two to three. And maybe from there they could win.
She allowed herself a small smile too as her pegasus flew up above the giant’s head in an arc. Her blade had been touched with poison, and that would surely begin to slow down the beast.
Stone Idol 8/10* HP misses Ingrid 10/10 HP with Axe of Zoltan [Roll: 6, -0, Ingrid 10/10 HP]
The stone giant attempted to land a blow of its own, the air whistling as the sharp blade of its axe cut towards her.
Holding her breath, Ingrid spun her mount, leaning to the side and dragging her pegasus to the left as the axe swung by, shaving off no more than a few loose strands of her braid.
Now she whooped, the taste of a small victory washing away the sour taste in her mouth.
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