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Oliver Brynnum

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Lucky Blue Smith

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Mercenary Group Prompt #2

Nock. Draw. Aim. Loose.

There was a rhythm to it, there always was. This was more violent than target practice, but the situation was kinda dire and all hands that could help were good help. Sheizara nodded at Garren and they started the grim process again.

Nock. Draw. Aim. Loose.

There were other marksman on distant roofs and balconies matching them shot for shot. They had to keep a lane open for folks to get to the Hotel. Support in numbers, and support in the shared burden of what accomplishing that task meant. She drew another arrow from her quiver, the neon blue hawkstrider fletching was almost too cheerful for the situation. Arcane magic outline the arrowhead on her exhale and she leaned forward to look over the edge of the roof as it landed in the middle of a group of Darkfuse Cartel members, binding them in place for precious seconds to give those fighting back and those fleeing more ground.

Predictability swiftly ended as a dervish of cartel drones suddenly whirled into the air above and around them, unleashed by Nikki the Fixer. "Oh, fuck that," she breathed out in a nervous laugh at the exact time Garren echoed her with his own, emphatic "What the fuck."

"WE NEED TO PROTECT THE HOTEL," Commander Dal'shula's shout carried up from the ground level as she looked at her friend, and he looked back at her as they realized they were in no small amount of danger at the same time.

And then the drones started dropping goop. Goop that turned into monsters. A few of the contraptions careened into their space on top of the Hotel and shot their payloads off before they could get arrows shot to divert them. Animated black blood landed with a sticky slap on the flat part of the roof and immediately began to constitute into horrifyingly large, ambulatory oozes. Garren's comm crackled to life and Xylaes' voice came over the speakers, "Incoming! Take cover, will be there as soon as I can."

This was a small arena, and neither one of them were up-close-and-personal fighters. One of the other snipers from an allied crew launched at one of the goo-creatures with a knife and was immediately engulfed to the elbow. She couldn't blame Garren for darting to hide behind some of the discarded supply crates they'd set up in case they needed them. He had self preservation.

She didn't. All fight, no flight. That was a problem, sometimes.

The other mercenary that had touched the goop reeled back, arm pulling out of the viscous critter with a resounding slurp, his eyes darting around wide in terror. They'd all heard the stories about the black blood at this point, and this guy had foolishly tried to stab what was, effectively, a wobbly clot.

She had to do something before they realized the hatch down into the upper floors of the hotel was open.

Shei nocked another arrow and shot in between both oozes, her magic holding them in place temporarily. She grabbed the other merc by his shirt and shoved him back through the hatch, down the ladder to the floor below. He was better off down there, right? Right. She pretended she hadn't heard something break when he landed.

Two seconds. She could feel the arcane binding starting to wane as she grabbed her own comm off her belt and shouted into it on Kaisina's private line, "Hey! Roof-top! I need as many bags of flour as you can get me up here asap! Don't ask questions just do it!"

Her spell fizzled and the oozes advanced, attention on her. She threw her comm aside and held her bow like she'd seen some of the goblin basebomb players hold their bats. Her first swing made contact and severed one of the oozes in two. Three oozes advanced. She scuttled to the side and swung again, making four as she tried to avoid being touched. Another bash and there were eight. Eight became about 50 faster than she could keep track of.

Setting the roof on fire was a terrible idea, wasn't it?

She screeched with fury and smashed her bow down again as all the little oozes started to swarm toward her feet. It was a damn good thing she was a fast runner and had elvish grace to help her navigate kiting the little squirmy bastards around in a circle.

The first bag of flour landed on the roof from the open hatch door with a thud, then another, and another. Kaisina peeked over the bags and gasped at the sight right as Shei shot off another binding arrow to freeze the little menaces in place. Garren poked his head around the crate, brow furrowed in confusion as Shei darted over to grab one of the bags.

She sliced into it with her boot knife and dumped it on the black blood oozelings, nervously word vomiting the entire time, "Listen, it's just oily slime right? And if you put flour on oil it sops it up and makes it stop spreading, we used it to clean the kitchen if we spilled stuff sometimes!"

"That is a GREAT idea!" Garren ran to grab a bag himself as Kai disappeared back down into the Hotel.

The oozes absorbed the flour dumped on them and clouded over. The binding spell faded again and they sat there for a moment. Had it worked?

She and Garren stared in anticipation, and then screamed in unison as the blobs advanced again. Slower, this time, but more like dumplings than the noxious pudding they had been.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Garren huffed as he sliced into the bag of flour he was holding and dumped it in front of them to make a protective barrier as they ran backwards to avoid the new problem.

The many mini-oozes rolled through the powder, each one absorbing a little more. Their constitution changed as they solidified and became more doughy, but it didn't stop them.

Shei laughed, overwhelmed with anxiety. They'd be cute if they weren't scary little madness monsters.

In a fit of desperation Garren stomped on one, the sole of his boot splattering it flat. As he pulled up his foot, thick bits of glutinous black blood stretched between the roof and his shoe in a truly grotesque display. And then it pulled his foot back down toward the surface, trying to re-constitute itself.

She lashed out with her knife and severed the squishy new problem in two, not liking at all the way the freshly split little ooze tried to become one with Garren's shoe. It didn't really reform, though. The flour had made it too tacky.

"Holy shit, genius," Shei exclaimed at her friend, he'd figured it out, "We just gotta jump on them really hard so they spread out and—"

Garren didn't need to be told twice. He jumped on another one and immediately jumped again, the ooze snapping before it had time to pull together. She joined in, landing on one in the flour pile and sending a cloud of powder in every direction, hitting some of the other blood-dumplings with more of the substance and making a huge mess.

That was when a spacial rift tore through the air, and for a moment everything stopped. Xylaes stepped through and stared at them. They stared back at him. An ooze dumpling rolled and broke the tension, back on the sluggish attack.

Lady Sheizara Tel'vaiel put on her most pleading, charmingly pathetic expression and begged with the smallest, saddest tone of voice she could manage, "Help please."

@themercenaries / @garrennorassin / @talonoa / @kaisinasunblade / @xylaes

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Otto Seppalainen by Pantelis  

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Lucky Blue Smith

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