Placing my helmet on my head and putting away The Failed Mage's Monocle, we exchange glances and head out into the plaza-turned garbage heap, Windy at the front. With the first step on the plaza's brickwork floor, The Scavenger freezes, twitching and vibrating, three faces reaching out from within it's slick tar-like body in our direction, bobbing and undulating.
"To your positions, go!" I order, splitting away from the group, headed for a gap in the mountains of furniture and knick-knacks. From there, I can block off the southwest and western approaches.
Realising the threat, The Scavenger's body rumbles, multiple mouths reaching out toward the sky and howling in a disharmonious chorus, calling for Subjugated Citizens to reinforce it immediately at the expense of all other concerns. When the sound washes over me, I feel my stomach churn in protest, that odd feeling of repulsion returning in force.
Am I allergic to demons or something? Is that what this is?
Nonetheless, a steady stream of Subjugated Citizens emerges from the sidestreets and alleyways onto the plaza. Men and women, mostly of Firm descent, of all ages from barely 10 years old to elderly Citizen, little more than pseudo-undead puppets. Such a sight is pretty old-hat for me and on the tamer end of the scale for things demons and their collaborators are capable of. Acting like a janky necromancer and turning the city's population into your army of minions is a novel idea, I'll give Geronil that much, but he's little more than a newborn kitten compared to a laundry list of NPCs I could rattle off that's a good 10 miles long.
Slicing through a teenaged girl with a gormless expression and decapitating a twenty-something woman behind her, I find myself distracted by thoughts of what stance I'm going to end up taking towards many of the villains present on Merrow, and those that are to come later on. Part of me wants to play the altruist and nip the threats many of them pose in the bud before they even get as far as planning it, but the pragmatist in me recognises that on the one hand, the saying 'better the devil you know' comes immediately to mind, but also the fact that many of these assholes or assholes-to-be are necessary for keeping the Corporate Interest Groups from just steamrolling over all the competition with their city-sized bank accounts in reality.
Without certain psychopathic mavericks running around to shake up the status quo and keep the CIG minions busy, I'm going to have a hard time carving out my empire and maintaining it. The fact that I'm creating an empire at all is going to be putting a target on our backs for some of these groups of bloody-minded morons, but I can live with it. We can stand to take a few losses to them if it allows us to maintain Truthseekers' independence and growth. Not to mention that some can be reasoned with to an extent, and could prove to be useful...not quite allies, but temporary coworkers.
The last thing I want is for Merrow to turn into a stagnant corporate theme park for 10 years like last time. 'Amazing' and 'Starfield Consortium' in particular need to be smothered in the crib if I get the chance. A few other organisations cross my mind, and a slew of bad memories and forgotten frustration return. The anger muddles my judgment, and the next Subjugated Citizen to meet my Terrorsteel Horrorblade is treated to a sloppy and overly-aggressive bisection.
Feeling the hackles on my back rise, a product of thirty years of combat, I twist with the blow and follow through with it in a 180º motion, almost treating an assassin's body to the same end. Realising the danger, they stop the thrust of their knives towards my back and immediately dodge low, rolling to safety with a chuckle.
"Wow~," the handsome Firm man rights himself, smiling amiably, "They weren't kidding. Out of professional curiosity, what gave me away?"
I grunt, recognising the man, "I'm too used to your type's bullshit. Hello, Giovanni."
Surprised, the assassin - Giovanni - blinks, "Oh? You know me? Interesting."
Giovanni Rescotti - one of the best assassin players in Meteo City and the most famous by a country mile back in the old timeline for the feat of being able to take on a team from Rambling Rose at their peak and win single-handedly. Known to be exorbitantly expensive to hire and difficult to recruit even if you have the money, he later became one of the members of Headhunters, one of the premier Infamous teams in the Empire of Stone for the next five years with an estimated bounty on his head of 36,000 Stone Platinum.
His reputation wasn't as some 100% success rate assassin either. In fact, he frequently died to his marks - rather, he was known by the unimaginative, if fitting, title of Mad Dog: Once he has a target, he latches on and doesn't let go until he gets his way. It doesn't matter how many times you kill him, so long as he hasn't managed to take you down, the pervert will keep coming back with newer plans and better gear until the job is done.
"If it wasn't obvious," I stab behind me, ending another mob, "We're busy. Go away."
He grins, clearly unstable, "And what if I want to kill you anyway?"
"You can't," I deadpan, "Those Copper-Tier toothpicks can barely scratch the itch on my back, and you're definitely not Level 10 yet. Try again some other time when you actually stand a chance. Or stay and help out, whatever floats your boat."
Giovanni tilts his head, "In this situation, as the target for assassination, you're asking me to help you with the boss you're fighting? Aren't you a little too thick-skinned?"
"Do I seem like I'm intimidated?" If he were past The First Step and properly equipped, then I'd be worried, but he's a little too early in his development to be a very credible threat, though given his MO, he'll be back regardless, "I can kill you now if you really want me to, just so you can tell your client you tried."
"Hmm..." He considers it, then throws his off-hand dagger in the air idly, "Nah. I'll take my chances, so I request that you take good care of me, k?"
With a half-sarcastic, Asian-styled bow, he drags his foot back behind him, daggers ready. Rolling my eyes, I take a deep breath, "JADE! ASSASSIN!"
Crestfallen, Giovanni clicks his tongue, "Calling for help? I expected more from you, Mr Silver..."
I snort, setting my guard, "As if I care what you think. If you want a good fight, you're in the wrong profession. Like I said, we're busy. Find your kicks elsewhere, I've no interest in humouring you."
The assassin's body tenses for a moment, precipitating a reckless dash straight at me, "Too bad!"
As straightforward and batshit insane as he is, Giovanni isn't a complete fool. If you give him an inch, he'll paint a bloody mile with your entrails. The gulf in stats and gear between us is no excuse for being sloppy. So, rather than take a swing at him mid-dash and giving him a chance to dodge past, I hold my ground just long enough for him to approach the edge of my territory. Lacking a good opening, he dashes diagonally to my left, then leaps forward with a lunge that is hilariously easy to identify as a feint.
Veteran assassins who prefer face to face confrontations tend to fall into the trap of desperately trying to outsmart their opponents with fancy footwork and mindgames. The easiest way to shut them down is, quite simply, not to think too hard about it and not to panic. It only works if they have something to latch onto.
I move out of the way of the thrust without retaliating, keeping my distance and the assassin at the edge of my Territory. Annoyed and impatient, Giovanni attempts to force engagement from me with relentless attacks, but even with comparable Agility, he can't land a blow. With each swing and stab, I grow more accustomed to how his muscle memory for fighting works, making it easier and easier to predict him and dodge out the way as his frustration rises.
"FIGHT ME DAMN IT!" He howls, stomping his foot impotently.
I chuckle, "No."
A pair of shining arrows streak out of the sky from the east, piercing his throat and skull, ending him instantaneously and sending the corpse ragdolling along their trajectory. I give Jade a thumbs-up, and return to add control duty.
Winfrey
I think that 'weird attack pattern' would be the understatement of the century when it comes to this monster.
Flagellating with multiple limbs, holding hammers, knives and even a fucking bucket - like, what? Why a bucket? - It's taking all my concentration to keep up with it, but even doing my utmost to dodge, block and parry this goopy shoggoth motherfucker, I'm still getting my ass paddled like a cheap hooker. I'm pretty sure that this boss is intended to have more than just li'l ol' me tanking it with how many attacks it's pouring on, and without Angelus babysitting me - note to self: Hug Angelus - I'd have been turned into a fine paste by now, even with my gear and stats. It's not because of some big meaty hits that slip past my defences, it's the chip damage I'm taking just by existing in it's attack range, like I'm standing too close to a grindstone.
If that grindstone had like a bajillion arms.
Knife thrust, dodge. Block the chair leg, dodge back to avoid the sledgehammer. Get clipped by a pair of secateurs from outside my field of view. Block a punch going under my shield with my sword and get pushed back with another three new arms following after me. Cut the first tentacle, block the swiping spear then stab through the new fist with Reprisal, making it flinch away.
Finding opportunities to fight back is a stressful endeavour, no joke about it. But if I don't, I risk losing aggro and causing Henna to get walloped instead. I don't want to think about how pissed off Alex would be if she ends up dying because of my fuck-up.
The passing of time becomes harder to keep track of, the only thing providing any sense of scale being the cooldown of Reprisal, but after five of them, I'm forced to disengage, drink a potion, and hold on to what's left for Phase 2 and emergencies. My consciousness becomes a little more numb to the ticking of the metaphorical clock after that, as a strange sense of...rhythm sets in. It's not that The Scavenger attacks in a set pattern, like stab-stab-punch over and over again, but instead it's as if I'm learning to move in step to dance with The Scavenger as my unwilling partner. Thus, the damage I take lessens, just a little.
I'm reminded of some of my sparring matches with Alex the other day, and how my success rate started to climb in a similar way. Although it's easier to get a grip of this...thing's tempo than him. For Alex, it's more like I was dancing in his palm the entire time rather than in tandem.
Fuel for thought, later on. Actually, talking to him about it might help as well. Maybe Ingrid too, since she's a martial arts teacher.
After a while, I notice a subtle shift in The Scavenger's demeanour, then a rather dramatic change in it's behaviour, halting it's attacks for a brief moment, hundreds of mouths sprouting across it's body and screaming in sorrow, rage, despair and frustration, gobbets of it's inky flesh shedding off like tumours and sinking into the brickwork floors. The resulting puddle vibrates, tendrils of shadowy crap zipping off in all directions, agitating the piles of trash into motion. A ring of the stuff forms and pulses out to block all the entrances to Tridor Plaza, while the sturdier pieces are dragged towards The Scavenger to form a makeshift suit of armour that puts me in mind of The Beak from Farmer's Secret.
Phase 2.
Seeing the arena change, I understand what's going on more or less immediately. With a sharp intake of breath, I call out to the rest of the group, "Phase 2! Change positions! Watch for Volatile Feathertearers!"
Scanning the plaza, I see a bubbling pool of that inky sludge in the southeast corner, "First spawn southeast, bubbling pools precede the spawn! I've got this one, keep the east side clear!"
With another breath inward, I sprint over to the quickly forming figure of the Volatile Feathertearer, the oily mass of corruptive gunk on the creature spreading even further down from their skulls, transforming their arm into a wing-like structure and the majority of their skin into the same substance with no traces of clothing left on their body.
Feeling a little impatient, I hop from foot to foot, ready to start running as I look over my shoulder at it. Even after emerging from the pool, it takes a few seconds for it to lurch into motion, but when it does, it moves with a sense of purpose and haste that's absent in it's Unstable kin, despite the nature of their respective gimmicks, since one would think the suicide bomber would be the swift-footed one between the two.
Confirming that it's fixated upon me, I run back toward The Scavenger, now in it's armoured form and attacking Windy with even greater intensity. To her credit, however, she's keeping up remarkably well with the creature in spite of it's chaotic aggression, but it's clear to see that she's under an enormous amount of stress - as is Angelus, having already activated Inspired Healing just to keep up with the damage output of the boss. Henna, Jupiter, Jade, and Miss Leovoldt stand by, waiting for the miniboss to become vulnerable to attack again.
To be blunt, it's probably pushing the limits of what they can handle, but it's a good experience for them to take on board. I wouldn't even consider doing this with so few people if I lacked faith in their abilities, but I daresay they've proven themselves up to the task and worthy of that trust.
Still, I muse, arriving at roughly the correct position, I need to track down a second tank and healer. The sooner, the better.
Turning around, I skewer the approaching Volatile Feathertearer, dragging it to the floor and lopping off it's head. Conscious of what's about to happen next, I run a little ways back the way I came until I clear the presumed blast radius, a shockwave catching up swiftly, accompanied by a booming explosion that sends a portion of The Scavenger's protective covering flying every which way. The hulking monstrosity falls to it's...knees? The moaning of several goats and old men signifying the pain it's experiencing.
"Attack the exposed areas!" I order swiftly, activating Bull Rush to re-engage with a Brutal Strike at the weak-spot.
"South-side, second spawn," Angelus calls out, "Jade! Go!"
"Got it!" Jade complies, likely recognising that ranged damage is less effective against it, making her absence from the close proximity less problematic, especially since she can shoot and move from that distance.
Working in tandem with Henna, Windy and Miss Leovoldt, we unload as much damage as we can into The Scavenger before it recovers from the stun, new junk flying over to fill the hole in it's defences, something of a futile effort seeing as a second Volatile Feathertearer is already en route.
I don't believe that we can chain stun The Scavenger into oblivion, but preventing it from maintaining it's DR buff and the nebulous amount of extra damage the explosion deals to it is enough of an excuse to keep doing it. Crowd control effects often come with diminishing returns if you keep stacking the same source of the effect on top of itself, outside of abilities that are specifically meant to do that via ramping up.
"Angelus, how's your MP doing?" I retreat in his direction to avoid the imminent explosion of the second add.
"Struggling. Down to my last few spellcasts," He grunts, activating Lifeforce Wave, "This thing is hitting way harder than you led us to believe."
"Sorry," I apologise, Miss Leovoldt executing the Volatile Feathertearer on Jade's behalf since it inherits the ranged damage absorption, "It was based on an assumption. Hang in there, both of you, I'm going back in."
True to my prediction, The Scavenger recovers from it's stunned state in roughly half the time of the previous explosion. If I had to say, never mind the increasing spawns of adds, if we don't kill it before it becomes completely immune to the crowd control, it'll tear Windy apart within a few seconds then mow down the rest of us.
Hacking away at an exposed leg, my blood runs cold when a heavy hammer blow sends Windy flying back several feet, her Stamina clearly starting to flag even with a proc or two of Angelus' Replenishment passive having probably gone off.
"You ok, Win?" Jade shouts.
"Peachy!" The Vanguard growls back, running back in before The Scavenger can lumber after her. She's nearing the end of her tether.
"Speed up the damage, people," I attempt to rally the team, "We've got a minute before things start getting hairy, let's take it down before that happens!"
I don't know if it has much effect on the players amongst us, but Henna radiates an increased intensity at my words, swinging her blade with greater ferocity than before, almost trance-like. If I didn't know better, I'd almost think she'd gone berserk.
"Two spawns, northeast, straight west!" Angelus informs the team, "Ingrid, Jade, go!"
