Day 28

Clarissa Evans

The redhead archer grinned in the gloom. The Sixty were on the march through the Doors, vibrant with energy. They strode at a determined pace and emitted an indomitable aura. Shield wielding frontliners led the way, but the archers were positioned just behind. Each of them eager and nervous to show off what Clarissa had boasted. Energized by a desire to prove themselves to the group. A hint of Mana gleamed along the grain of their bows.

Very few of the Sixty stayed behind. Malachi’s speech was an encouragement hard to ignore. Strong enough that its effects still shined in people’s eyes. Two days spent in training to smooth out the new protocols, and now on this day, they were out for an early start. The words chanted still rang in everyone's ears. Each step, a reminder of that unspoken oath. Their word given and taken by each other. A promise to rise and every second on the march fulfilled that. The Sixty passed through the lower tunnel and then rose to the Vile Fields. Every step, rising.

A buzz of anticipation ran through the raid party as they stopped at the edge of Fields. The frontliners step forward in an arched line, their shields glowing slowly with readied Mana. Ratsins screamed and struggled unaware. Strong rat things battled for the phosphorus fauna and the wretched ones devoured the dead. If more malicious glares were sent the way of the thin beasts, it was only natural for what they could become.

The archers led by Clarissa stepped into the open area secured by the frontliners. Mana glitter in anticipation and the rats skittered in ignorance.

“Alright, my brothers and sisters… let’s do it like we worked it,” called out Clarissa, grinning and vicious. Eyes twinkingly, she went on. “It’s gonna be badass. I believe in ya’ll. You got this, down, pat… That being said, make a mistake and I’ll fuck ya up!” None of the other archers flinched. A few may even have rolled their eyes at her enthusiasm for the threat.

Aww, they know me, thought Clarissa. They’ve learned I’m not altogether much bite… I guess I’ll be turning that around on them soon. Gotta keep 'em guessing!

Chuckling to herself, the archer commander called out, “Ready yourself!” All reacted smoothly, but more than one shivered at her laughter. Light began to shine out from each bow. A rainbow of colors appeared as Mana began to infuse and concentrate.

“Aim,” chirped Clarissa peppily. Arrowless, the bows rose and were pointed vaguely at the center of ceiling above the Vile Fields. Mana flowed as almost liquid rivlets to form arrows. For each archer the Mana construct was a little different. Some were just a spike or a shard, a few were like arrows down to the fletchings. More Mana flowed and the light grew bright enough to sting the eyes.

The charging continued. Auras of illumination broadened into a field of daylight. A spectrum of lights combining to create a pure white glow. The sounds of the damp cavern grew quiet. Silent Ratsins turned towards the Sixty in twitching confusion. A hum cut through the air as the Mana rose to a crescendo.

When the stain of the tension contoured the faces of the archers, Clarissa breathed in deeply before roaring. She gave the command, “FIRE! SHOW THEM OUR CONTEMPT!”

They came thundering, launching into the air shrieking, and some sliced through the air silently. Different streaks of colors from each bow. Leading the way was a large spear of malevolent dark green Mana. Together, by will and confluence, the empowered arrows of Mana gathered above the center of the Vile Field. For the briefest moment, the points of light hovered there. The rat things followed the flight path and stared upwards. Attracted by the amassed light and Mana.

The energy rippled and the balls of light exploded outwards. An action of expansion before they all shattered. Each piece formed into new arrows. Some colors dominated the scene. Green spread above everything else. Others condensed into larger pieces. Shards made of sunlight Mana were closer in size to javelins. Gray arrows were lost in the shadows. The Sixty held their breath in as the multi-colored stardust hung in the air. It rotated like a chandelier light show. When everyone finally breathed out, the projectiles of Mana fell fatally.

A piercing rain dropped onto the Ratsins. Those wretched things screeched as a blanket of pain covered the whole of the Vile Fields. Some of the shards tracked while others fell like pins tossed from a skyscraper. Needle-like green Mana shards coated the rat things and exploded. Gray quiet arrows swished about to find blind angles or tender spots. Raging rays of the sun poured down like judgment to burn through whole monsters.

As the first volley fell, a second round was launched into the air. The Ratsins squirmed and cried as they were overwhelmed by another arrow storm. They cowered from the pain and sniffed at the sky. The third volley was in the air when the enduring beasts finally traced the Mana back to the Sixty. When the wounded rat things screeched in a challenge, the archers changed tactics.

The redhead’s voice bubbled with laughter as she called out, “Switch to free fire! Put down any mongrels daring enough to be still standing.” When the frontliners twitched ready to meet the charging monsters, Clarissa added, “Take it easy, sweethearts, we gots it all wrapped up. My boys and girls are not to be trifled with. These rat fuckers ain’t nothin’ but chump change. At ease! We’ll get ‘em long before they're close enough for swords!”

Their bows lowered to fire just above the defenders or through the open lanes as practiced. Most archers continued to fire pure Mana projectiles. Single and burst shots that caught Ratsins as they charged. The grinning devil fired her explosive green arrows into the bigger Ratsins. Making them trip up if not outright blowing them apart. Vihaan used his iron head arrows as a base for his sunlight colored Mana. Imbuing them with enough power to burn holes through larger targets. The gray arrows’ of Amiyah used a stone-tipped arrow as a core for homing arrows that hit at precisely the right moment or place.

The archers fired quickly and calmly. Wave after wave of Mana-infused arrows broke the charge of the Ratsins. Pure Rats were killed quickly by their reckless assault. Even the Starving Ratsins failed to reach the battle lines. The thin dried-out bodies were torn asunder by swarms of projectiles. The Bloated Ratsin, distracted by the corpses, were easily slain as well. Soon the Vile Fields were empty. The Sixty looked out on a finished battlefield. Monster corpses disintegrated and Mana arrows slowly dimmed in the gloom. A Vegas-style graveyard fading away to dust.

Silence remained as the archers relaxed their grips on their bows. More than a few dropped to their knees to breathe in deeply. Only the filth of the tunnel floor kept them from simply collapsing on the floor to rest.

The others of the Sixty were simply struck silent. Caught in a loop of looking between their allies and the monsters swept away. Clarissa broke the tension with laughter that rose deep from within. Grins spread out amongst the two groups and then everyone was cheering together.

“Now that, was fun as hell!” grinned the redhead. “We really elevated the fuck out of our potential. To my archers, excellent freankin’ job! Celebrate! No one gets an extra doomful of training. To the rest of ya’ll… suck it! We’re bomb-ass awesome!” There was more laughter and cheers at her decree. Amongst the archers, the laughter was as much relief as good cheer. The grinning devil made an impression with her training. Threats of harm were one thing, but threats of training were all too real.

Awe twinkling in his eyes, Damian wandered up beside the redhead. “Wonderful!,” began the obsidian acolyte. “Watching that manipulation of Mana was quite exciting! You are all coming along nicely. I even saw where I could improve my own shaping. The next time all of you train, please invite me along. It should be mutually beneficial.”

“Alright baldly, I’ll bring ya along next time,” replied Clarissa amused. With a sharp smile added, “But you’re gonna be running the gauntlet for aiming if it ain’t right. I’ll teach ya, but no mercy on my standards.”

“O’ that is fine,'' nodded Damian. “I will hold you to mine on Mana shaping.” He stared at the redhead perfectly still. His ominous tone echoed in her ears. Just when the tension was getting to her, the obsidian acolyte added, “Also, I am not bald. “Baldly'' is not factual. My hair is perfectly abundant. I simply prefer the cleanliness of a shaved scalp.”

“O’ um ok,'' blinked Clarissa. Damian continued to stare at her with a small friendly smile. When she didn’t say anything after a couple heartbeats, the obsidian acolyte wandered off thinking the conversation was over. “Well… that was interesting…”

“O’ you’re only saying that because he threw you off and your attempt to do the same didn’t even faze him,” said Julia as she walked up.

“Nah ah, he’s just a weirdo,” grumbled Clarissa.

“Please, you’re a weirdo too,” snorted Julia.

“Pshha, I’m just too awesome for all ya’ll,” stated the redhead irritably and proud.

“Whatever, sourpuss,” said Julia with an eye roll. “Just enjoy your victory. We’re going to be moving out again soon.” The shieldmaiden walked back to prepare the frontline for marching through the Vile Fields.

To her friend’s retreating back, Clarissa called out, “Hey, nicknames are my thing girlie! Can’t have the two of us flicking them in this friendship! And! I am enjoying my victory just fine, thank you!”

“As you should,” cut in Malachi seriously. Suddenly appearing at her side. The archer’s glare for the surprise was ignored with the slightest mischievous smile. “What you and the archers have shown off today was impressive as hell. More so than you suggested too.”

“Ah yeah, haha, I just have some good people to work with,” grinned Clarissa under the praise. “For the most part, it was just a matter of showing ‘em and then grinding the perfection in. Honestly, it went easier than I expected both times. They’re good material to work with. Being an excellent teacher is just an extra boon for ya’ll!”

“Boon indeed,” agreed Malachi. “I haven’t forgotten your display on our first outing into the tunnels. You outshone Vincent. It was obvious for those who took the time to notice.”

“You flatter me,” preened the redhead. “Do it more!”

“Ha, maybe another time, when we’re not in the gloom of the tunnels and you learn to be humble,” smirked Malachi. His eyes twinkled in competition with her dark look. The staring contest abruptly broke off when Malachi turned serious, “During our planning session, you stated that your archers could continue to offer the same level of support as we marched through the upper tunnels. Should I be concerned at how exhausted everyone is?”

“Nah,” replied Clarissa, blowing it off. “We may have overdone it some. Y’know, it’s fun to show off and all. So no worries, grimsly. The archers are gonna continue to kick some ass. Smooth sailing, “Sa-r.”” A saucy little salute to finish her statement.

“Alright commander, I trust your judgment,” nodded their leader. “Divide your people up for the march.”

“Wa-wa-wait!” called out the redhead. “Why did you call me commander?” She was pointing at herself in disbelief and concern.

His head tilted as countered, “What else would I call you? The archers are under your command.”

Her mouth fell open to disagree, but no word came out. “Damnit, I put myself in charge again…”

“Leadership becomes some of us,” said Malachi softly. “Don’t resist this. You may not have meant to, but you put yourself here. Meant to be here.”

“Ugh, gods, fine,” said Clarissa, admitting defeat. “Responsibilities are boring, but I am the best. Might as well.”

With a sigh, Malachi replied, “Thank you for accepting it so graciously… Let's get going.”

The Sixty split up. Those staying in the Vile Fields scattered to gather the cores and got into position to slay the rising Ratsin new-spawns. Meanwhile, the main group reformed their formations for the upper tunnels. They crossed the cavern, eyes straight and their jaws set. There wasn’t any hesitation as they crossed the border into the darker shaft. Vengeance and strength were extruded from the Sixty. A whisper of “Rise For The Sky” flowed through the crowd.

Like last time, they came to a halt where the tunnel walls were honeycombed with shadowed pits. It was a grim atmosphere knowing that every hole potentially had a beast waiting inside. Half-formed or not, it was disturbing to see how many angles they could arrive from. Lights flickered as the acolyte spoke their chants and their might fell upon the hidden foes.

Fire and thunder, shadow and arcane, the spells poured through to the monsters within. Scorched and battered, ravaged and torn, the Ratsin fled broken from their pits. The hideous beats, pulpy and bled, charged the prepared Sixty. The archers, empowered and readied, launched sharpened hell. Due to the numbers, a few made it to the waiting battlelines, but it was more a mercy than a fight. The pits were quickly emptied and their inhabitants were slain. Rolling flames confirmed the pits to be clear while they waited for a response from above.

Empowered Pure Ratsins grinned cruelly as they charged down at the Sixty. Blue goo dribbling from their jaws. Arrows and Mana rained down at the galloping beasts. Pain-laced screams ruptured from monstrous throats. Those quickly changed to howls and Mana rippled in the air. Some of the Sixty’s projectiles were thrown off course. The most prominent effect was that the azure glow of the Ratsin thickened in the air above them. Weak Mana dispersed on contact and hardened shards slowed to uselessness.

Clarissa narrowed her eyes at the sight. That is an affront to me, thought the redhead. And I don’t believe I will allow that to stand.

She took a step forward and took in a deep breath. Holding in the air as memories of her grandmother’s lessons fluttered. Those moments were always so close to the surface when Clarissa thought about archery. It helped to focus and strengthen her intentions. Mana surged with her contempt. A green light surged from the bow. Seeming to consume and enlarge the bow. A mighty arrow of razor intentions formed. Already bulging and unstable. One wanting to become many. Clarissa pulled back the string of Mana and released it with an evil laugh.

A green projectile the size of a spear flew towards the charging rats. Shuttering as it traveled. At each shake, the number of the great arrows multiplied. The azure cloud shifted to intercept. Clarissa was already relaxed and grinning as her arrows closed in on the amorphous blob of energy. There was a flash of light when the two forces met.

The azure light failed, shredded by the spears of green light. They passed through unslowed, flying free, and impaled the Ratsins to the ground. The Pure Ratsins roared in rage, but without the shields, the might of the Sixty dropped upon them. Blue blood soon pooled upon the ground around them. A warning scene was created with bodies pinned up by the shafts of green.

“And that’s how ya do it!” roared Clarissa into the gloom. “The Rats ain’t got anything on us!”

Phelain Starr

Standing in the frontline, the arisen warrior watched the celebrating archer with awe and envy. A single action that turned the tide. It was something he aspired to do someday. To be a symbol of power on the battlefield. To be someone that could be trusted to bring victory despite any obstacle. Phelain knew that it was naive. The dungeon had even shown him how it treated such childish thoughts. Clearly and painfully shown it.

Still, thought Phelain. I do dream of such heroic acts.

His position as the first to die brought with it a strange sort of fame. Not to mention duty. Its mild effect on him also made him easier to approach. Many of the Sixty came with questions on the subject. The arisen warrior tried his best to answer them. It was odd to be someone others sought out for such deep counsels. Having the wisdom to offer on life and death wasn’t something he was used to. Through his games, Phelain had offered thoughts on the subject, but the experience of death lent his words a legitimacy that troubled him.

In his heart, he felt reckless and childish. Wanted only to be wild and courageous. Death seemed a blimp. At worst an inconvenience. Yet, when looking into Hector’s eyes or those that came with their question, Phelain almost felt that chilly fear that hollowed out their eyes. This inspired him to want more. To be more. Not because of the terror of the grave. Instead, it was purely a desire to live up to their expectations. To be the legend that could die and return. To have the insight to give the right answers.

The arisen warrior worried he wasn’t close enough to that. He felt so lacking. Like something still held him back from rising. Such feelings led him back to the same childhood dream. That golden wish to raze the battlefield of his enemies. Perhaps a grand gesture in battle like that wouldn’t help. Shouldn’t really help. It could never give him the necessary growth itself, but the confidence that bloomed from it would open doors. He hoped.

Otherwise, am I just being foolish? wondered Phelain. Am I just a child lost in the nightmare? Can I really be more than I am now? The others have taken great strides and I have chased after them at every step. Yet, I feel so left behind. Can I catch up? Keep up?

After collecting the cores, the Sixty started their march upwards. Confidence was high and morale was strong. Gloomy, Phelain maneuvered to be at the front. Haunted by the frustrations that kept chasing themselves through his mind.