[Episode 264287] [Episode 264287]No one said anything, no one moved a muscle. The Guildmaster and his Slavers, the slaves and servant girls, The Tailor, Crescens, the daughters of the late Keeper Apirana Maori, the exiled ex-baron of Wishveil, the ousted head of Pigpimples School of the Gifted, and all their Minions... all could only stare as it stood amongst them now. In a sudden crash of violent teleportation brought upon by some upstart sex-slave was a monster of legend: a Horned Reaper! Muscled rippled as the beast breathed heavily, the Elite Minion towering over nearly everyone gathered in the auction–only Xin’s dragon stood taller and even IT was wary.
For lack of better terms, the Horned Reapers were legendary. Where the crimson scourges had once been a semi-common and proud member of a Dungeon Keeper’s forces, the breed had all but vanished in the past millennia. Some tales went to tell of how they had been defeated by the Dark Angels and replaced as the Dark Gods’ favored messengers of destruction. Other stories went that the Dark Gods had begun to fear their creations’ power and exiled the warriors into the deepest depths of the planet, where no Keeper could reach. Others still said that the Horned Reapers had grown contemptuous of the pompousness and self-aggrandizement of modern Keepers, primping themselves instead of focusing on attacking the surface-world and had gone into hibernation, waiting for a master truly deserving of their power to rise and wrench the sun from the sky, ushering in a new era of darkness.
And it was also true that rumors had been spreading all throughout the Underdark that the Reapers had been making a comeback, slowly but surely. New Dungeon Keepers were popping up who had these steadfast warriors standing beside them or after their lives. There were the trials and tribulations of a blue-tressed Keeper who wanted to play the part of a Hero and had actually defeated her Reaper in one-on-one combat before the eyes of the Dark Gods themselves. There was word of a pigtailed Keeper with a greater vampire and redheaded wife who would fight toe-to-cloven hoof with his Reaper for fun. Rumors of a young man with a lightning bolt scar who had magic that was unlike any seen before and had killed a basilisk to impress his Reaper. And there were stories of a blond boy that was the reincarnation of a fox demon who lead charges with his Horned Reaper and armies of goblins. All this had been considered to be exaggerated stories told by the masses to try and scare one another, for certainly the Horned Reapers were of a bygone age and no one would have the power to control one.
But to see one here and now? At the behest of a catgirl sex-slave of all things? It was mind-blowing to say the least as well as incredibly terror-inducing. Could it be that she was truly a Keeper?
“Well, hello there...” the Horned Reaper chirruped, causing most in the room to catch their breaths; the Goblins that were closes letting loose the contents of their bowels down their legs. “I’m not interrupting something important, am I?” the hell-beast queried in a surprisingly sweet dulcet tone, the sort a surface princess might speak with before tearing into a box of chocolates.
The catgirl raised her hand, pointing to them in an accusatory fashion before bellowing the command, “HORNY! KILL ‘EM LIKE THE REST!”
While the Keepers knew that it would be impossible for the beast to kill them here as-is thanks to their Dungeon Hearts being in the safety of Lairs... the fact remained that this was going to be an unimaginable level of pain. Sure, they’d likely lose the Minions brought with them, but this was about THEIR pain, not that of underlings that could be replaced with a well-placed advertisement and a handful of gold coins.
Hefting his scythe in both his hand, the smile on Horny’s features was one of infernal delight. “Really now? Happy birthday to me!”
Nodding her head, the werecheetah snorted. “Yes, yes, Happy Birthday! NOW KILL!” she commanded, her left eye and outstretched finger twitching erratically. “MAMA NEEDS BLOOD TO FLOW LIKE FINE WINE!” Especially since the assholes who were running the Slave Auctions refused to give her any of the fine wine they were practically bathing the other Keepers in.
Looking over the room, the red-skinned being grinned widely as he settled his gaze on Keeper Dumbledore. “SWEET! I’M GONNA CLAIM ME A PURPLE ROBE!” he chimed joyously, causing the old, bearded Keeper to shriek in terror. After all, purple was the color of royalty and wasn’t he practically Underworld nobility? Besides, he was the LAW now! With that much purple and his current position of power, he could look into pimping!
Granted, it wasn’t as violent as warfare but no one cried foul should he need to slice and dice a client that refused to pay up.
Britanny wouldn’t hear of it. “No, Horny! You kill NOW!” she roared, her ether vents giving off flickers of blood-red flame as Mana pumped directly from her Dungeon Heart into her. She didn’t know what she was angrier about now. Not being taken seriously by anyone, have them sic their Minions on her, or the fact that her Horned Reaper had the absolute worst fashion sense in this plane of reality!!
Turning to his Dungeon Keeper, an indignant pout adorned the eight-foot-tall mass of red’s hellish face. “But Keeper,” the horned mammoth mass of muscle whined. “I want i~iiiiiiiiit!”
The green sclera of her eyes turned a glowing crimson, the left corner of her upper lip curling back in a snarl. “NO!” She snapped right back at her Minion. “No fashion suicide for you!”
“But I like it!” Horniculus shouted back, crossing his immensely toned and bulging biceps over his chest in a show of unrelenting defiance. The Sheriff’s shirt was too small for him, but that robe looked like would have enough material to cover him. And besides, he LIKED purple!
It was at that point–when the being that was death incarnate didn’t immediately come for them–the other keepers began to realize that despite the terror-inducing show of force, the pretty kitty didn’t have control over the Horned Reaper. She couldn’t command the great beast to her will.
She was undefended, which would leave the Horned Reaper up for grabs.
Far used to the personalities and physical tells of these keepers due to rumor and his own personal interactions with them–they might have been boorish but they knew quality clothing when they saw it–The Tailor immediately knew where this was heading. Grasping his hands over one of Crescens’ Void Claws, the dark elf was quick to whisper, “I think we best head out my dear. This is about to get really ugly.” And he couldn’t stand ugly! It went against his personal values! And besides that, blood was an utter bitch to get out.
Turning her head towards the man with the rather lovely set of hands, Crescens raised an eyebrow. “But Lady Gia—”
“Can handle them,” The Tailor was quick to interrupt her. Granted, he really didn’t think she could handle them, but she had the Horned Reaper of all things with her. Perhaps it would be enough to even the odds with three or four Keepers... maybe.
The gaoblin didn’t budge. Instead, she stood up, ready to jump to the defense of her mistress. Most of the other Keepers were getting up, having recovered from the shock that was Horny and were ready themselves to attack: the two women and the armored knight’s right hands glowing. Her Void Claws were glowing with her own ethereal might, ready to strike two of them down.
The Tailor looked utterly horrified. While he took immense enjoyment in tormenting the catgirl sex slave-turned-dungeon keeper, the fact of the matter was, he had no worries about her. She was a damned keeper! Unless the others destroyed her Dungeon Heart, the spotted bitch would just reform there once they took the time to teach her a lesson. His beloved Crescens did not have such a luxury. “Lady Crescens, please! I beg you! Don’t throw your life away!”
“Listen to the dark elf,” the voice of the older Keeper spoke, causing the two to turn in his direction. Dumbledore gave them a kindly smile. “She has a legendary minion with her: a Horned Reaper. She’ll get through this. I suggest you take cover.” He sat back as he eased himself onto the couch. “I intend to enjoy the show, myself.”
Crescens just gawked at the old man. While it was surprising that he elderly Keeper wasn’t attacking her mistress Lady Gia, it was more-so a shock that the man thought the werecheetah had a chance of winning with the help of the demon. “You really think so?”
“Think?” the bearded wizard scoffed. “My dear, I know. And I’ve been looking forward to this place getting a much-needed shakeup for a long while now. This is going to be exciting!” he cooed in delight, his eyes on the right hands of his fellow Keepers as they clenched their fists which began to glow with a red hue; whatever Minion they picked up from their Dungeons was on their ways.
The Tailor raised an eyebrow. He knew of Keeper Dumbledore well enough; although he never could under understand why all the robes he ordered were sized to fit something with the body mass of a goblin/dwarf/child. “Not to be ungrateful for your verbal assistance in telling Lady Gia to back down, but shouldn’t you be worried about the Horned Reaper annihilating you for your robe after he’s done with them?”
A smile spread across the old wizard’s face. “Trust me, good sir. I believe I know how to deal with the Reaper should it come down to it...” after seeing it in action, he could tell that was closer to being a feral Horned Reaper than a true minion–which granted, not all that different from a tame one–and thus, followed a code of attack. He then gave a tilt of his head towards The Guildmaster. “Now then, you two best hide. The sparks are going to fly.
Cursing her luck, the gaoblin that was the former high priestess of her people was torn. She wanted to give aide to Lady Gia, but with so many people in such a crowded area, not to mention her desire to protect The Tailor–the only man who she knew that could give a massage–the green-skinned woman was unsure of what to do. “But... Lady Gia...”
Grabbing her left Void Claw roughly, the dark elf pulled and shouted, “Trust me! You staying in the way of fire will only end in tears!”
Before the gaoblin could argue further, the woman heard the voice of The Mentor screaming just before a bright flash of crimson light enveloped the area.
The Mentor had such high hopes. While the apparition of advisement was normally annoyed when his chosen protégé didn’t take his advice, she had managed to pleasantly surprise him by summoning Horny to her side without him having been in the Neophyte Keeper’s dungeon. While the implications of such were game-changing to dungeon keeping practices, the fact was she had Horny here and now, in the midst of a bunch of Keepers who had much lesser forces with them–granted the dragon could be a threat but the Horned Reaper was more than a match for a single dragon. She could put these more experienced Keepers in their place and get the breathing room she needed to keep them OUT of her business while she expanded her own resources and armies.
However, instead of doing the SANE thing and commencing with threats and slaughter, she was arguing with him over the fact that Horniculus wanted Keeper Dumbledore’s robe. “I hate my afterlife...” the ghost of guidance bemoaned his fate, wondering what Dark God he’d displeased to have this thrust upon him.
Britanny just stared at her Minion as if he’d grown a second head... or at least a third horn. “You’re kidding me! How can you like that monstrosity!?” she declared as she pointed to the wizarding Poof who merely rolled his eyes and shook his head. “All that purple would clash terribly with your natural red!”
“But purple is a blend of blue AND red!” the Horned Reaper argued, the chance to maim the not-so-innocent forgotten for the moment as he had to debate with the kitty about his desire to prove that he was a monster of legitimate sophistication.
The werecheetah met the harsh gaze of the warrior demon. “You fool!” she cried out. “Just because they look good to the eye of a novice doesn’t mean that they are proper fashion!” she shouted at him. “Red is a plus color, purple is a minus! You don’t mix pluses and minuses unless they are the proper complimentary cool color to warm! In your case, green, NOT purple! That’s why I let you keep the derby!”
Horny paused for a moment as he considered what his Keeper had told him. “So... you’re saying it’s okay if we go back to The Tailor’s after this and get that crushed velvet suit I saw in the window?” he queried with evil glee. After five-hundred years, he wasn’t just ready to go back to slaughtering the masses. He was ready to put on the ritz while slaughtering the masses!
Britanny’s eyes flashed the solid red light of her Dungeon Heart’s mana of evil. “NO!” She roared. “NOT ONLY NO, BUT FUCK-THE-HELL NO!!!” Just because it would have been the right colors for him did not make it a fashion do! It was a fashion don’t!!
The Mentor was about to berate the two of them when his senses were piqued by the sudden surge of mana that was filling the room. Mana that his vast experience allowed him to recognize all too well as the manipulation of the Dungeon Hand spell. The spirit was quick to try and get the werecheetah’s attention. “Keeper!” he shouted.
Only to be interrupted by the Horned Reaper roared back, “BUT IT’S VELVET! CRUSHED! VELVELT!” He clenched his hands, one gripping ever so tightly around the shaft of his black scythe while the other bent the spine of his hand-made ticket book. “THAT WOULD FEEL SO SMOOTH AND SILKY!”
Twitching, The Mentor wasn’t going to give up. “Keeper, we—”
“NOPE!” the spotted blonde werecat snapped, interrupting her guide. “ONLY SILK FEELS LIKE SILK! VELVET IS SPLOTCHY AND REFLECTS LIGHT ALL WRONG!”
“Keeper, you really must—”
The Horned Reaper stomped his cloven hoof as he took a step towards his mistress. “WELL GOOD!” he snapped. “WHO WANTS TO BE UP IN THE LIGHT ANYWAY!? THE DARKNESS IS WHAT WE NEED!’
“Keeper! Reaper!” the ghost snapped. “Would you two just listen to—”
“WELL I DON’T LIKE IT!” Britanny roared back in her Minion’s face. “AND AS LONG AS YOU WORK FOR ME, WE WILL NOT HAVE YOU RUIN MY REPUTATION BY HAVING YOU SEE IN SUCH ATROCIOUS ATTIRE!”
The Mentor had had enough. “WOULD YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!?” he proclaimed mightily, having managed to find a way to project his voice that much more powerfully. “THE OTHER KEEPERS ARE—”
There was a bright flash of light that filled the room, blinding everyone in the private auction theater. When the crimson essence dissipated, three more people filled the room.
“...Summoning more Minions...” The Mentor finished lamely. “And they’re all Elites at that.”
Britanny frowned as she and Horny turned to face this new threat gathered before them. Her eyes gazed to the spirit. “Elites?” she queried of her ghostly guide.
“Sure, now you want to listen to me...” the deceased dungeon keeper muttered irritably before speaking up in a more audible voice. “To be blunt, Elite Minions are members of the traditional dungeon-dwelling races which are marginally more powerful than their standard brethren. As you can see, Elite Minions also tend to be wildly different in appearance when compared to their compatriots that make them stand out from the rest.”
Britanny’s eyes gazed over the newly summoned trio. Standing beside Keeper Raksasha was yet another armored knight. However, this one differed from the other two black knights in one major aspect; the color of his armor. As opposed to the solid black of the Keeper and his men, this guy’s armor was forged with blue-violet hues. Next in line, Britanny could see that standing with the redheaded bitch that called her a sex-slave, Keeper Pilfor, was yet another goblin... albeit one with the common sense to actually wear a pair of pants rather than a simple loincloth. However, unlike the knight, this Minion REALLY stood out from the other goblins. He was a foot taller in height and decked with breastplate armor while armed with a golden short-sword in his right hand. And finally by Keeper Xin, there was a tall, lithe, muscular busty woman clad in a skimpy leather dominatrix outfit with... a scar over her left eye?
Wait a minute. Killer figure. Asian. Black leather. Scary eyes. Facial Scar. White streak of hair in a mane of ebony.
The werecheetah paled as she looked over the women standing by the Keeper still sitting atop the dragon. She couldn’t believe what she was staring at. “...Ayane?” she whispered out in shock, the anger she had built up arguing with Horny draining from her.
The woman smirked, bringing her right hand up to move her hair from her face. “Nice to see one’s reputation precedes them...” her gaze, those dark, unnerving eyes turning to her own master, a fellow oriental-esque woman. “See, Keeper?” she spoke in a haughty yet surprisingly sultry tone. “I told you I was worth the gold you pay me.”
Britanny frowned. That... that may have looked like Ayane, sounded like Ayane, but the body language was all wrong. Hell, she may not have been skilled with magic before being sent to the realm of Oblivion, but she could tell that even the aura of this one was different from the Mistress she knew! “Mentor,” she murmured, feeling her fur stand on end as the goblins and knights that had tried to gang up on her had advanced back towards the newly summoned Elites to get into a flanking position. “Who is that Mistess?”
“Dark Mistress,” The Mentor corrected. “The breed is one of the kinkiest of the creatures, one who enjoys pain and inflicting it on others. Dark Mistresses are fast, powerful creatures that train quickly and have access to a dangerous arsenal of spells. Their health is about average, but their ranged attacks are powerful; coupled with their speed, this makes them deceivingly hard to defeat.” Then after a thought, he added with a rather opinionated tone to his voice as he surmised, “An excellent fighter, if quite worrying.”
Britanny nodded her head, her stare turning towards the woman who was content to sit on her dragon’s head, the beast staring down at her; wisps of black smoke and glowing embers flaring from its nostrils. “And how the heck did you get Ayane on your side?” She didn’t know what the heck was going on. While it wasn’t like the Ms. Anno she knew, the werecheetah would have been loath to destroy someone or something that was possibly a link to her home dimension.
Keeper Xin didn’t deign to respond to Britanny’s inquiry, her gaze instead glaring at the cat sex-slave and the Horned Reaper before her; her right hand patting the top of her dragon’s head. “As you can see, Keeper Cheetah,” the tone of voice she used when referring to the other woman’s title one of mockery. “You may have one of the most powerful Minions at your disposal but you are outnumbered and outmatched. My sister might have been the one to throw the first stone, but this little hissy fit of yours proves you’re nothing but a novice who knows not a holy thing. Honestly, you’re more pathetic than Pilfor.”
Britanny’s hair stood on end and her eyebrows furrowed in rage. The redheaded woman also looked rather annoyed as her half-sister continued to belittle her every chance she got.
“So here’s what we’re going to do,” the Asian woman grinned as she stood up on her dragon’s head, arms crossed over her chest as she glared down at the werecheetah. “You are going to leave here without the slaves and the Reaper and one of us will eventually claim your Minion for ourselves. How we go about this will be one of two ways. This can either be accomplished by you gracefully bowing out along with leaving us each a tithing of riches in the hopes that we’ll forget you exist... or we can kill you, painfully sending you back home in humiliating defeat. Then we’ll eventually find your dungeon and destroy your Heart, obliterating you for good. So in the end, the choice is up to you. Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
Her jaw tightening as she clenched her fists, Britanny’s lip curled back in a snarl. Her tail began to wave back and forth behind her in agitation as she took stock of the threat that had been hurled her way. True, the smart thing would have been to merely run like hell back to the Portal Gem and get out of Skid Row while the getting was good... but really, this day was aggravating the hell out of her. The humiliation reaped upon her in ungodly amounts had taken a toll on her patience and demeanor and she was angry as hell. Damn the consequences, she was going to kick some ass! “Horny...” she stated with a low growl.
The red menace paused in his mental tally of squishy-killables to turn his attention to his mistress. “Yes, Keeper Cheetah?” she replied with barely restrained dark glee. Damn, he loved when she was enraged. It reminded him of himself on a good day and that usually meant it WOULD be a good day for him.
Cheetah was quick to issue her commands in an authoritative tone. She had gone well past the state of rage and came out on the other side... to something darker, something more dangerous. “Do whatever you wish but leave the dark mistress alive, as unharmed as you can. Leave the Keepers to me; I’ll personally handle their sorry asses.”
While annoyed that she wanted him to leave ONE of these blood-bags alive... the Horned Reaper could still appreciate that she was giving him cart blanche to do whatever he wanted with the rest... and she was promising to personally get involved as well! It had been a while since he got to enjoy the spectacle that was keeper-on-keeper combat. “As you wish...” he chuckled as he hefted his scythe in both hands. He took a step towards the gathered enemy forces, his cloven hoof stomping firmly into the ground.
Smirking, Keeper Xin nodded her head. “Ah. The easy way it is then. Excellent...” her own eyes flashed red, her body enhanced by the power of her Dungeon Heart. She jumped off from the back of her dragon, commanding the beast to, “ATTACK!”
His bastard sword in hand, Keeper Raksasha was quick to raise it in the direction of Britanny as he snarled the orders, “Take down the Reaper, quickly! The beast is what we need to fight the forces of Wishveil! I’ll put that spotted cat-slut in her place!”
With the armored black knight of a keeper running forward, Pilfor smirked. Emboldened by the fact she had two keepers–even if one was her bitch of an older sister–were aiding her endeavor, she couldn’t help but taunt, “Don’t worry, bitch! Unlike the others, I won’t kill you...” she was already drawing one of the numerous throwing daggers off her belt. “I’ll keep you and let my goblins use you like the sloppy cunt you are!” She then threw the dagger, the weapon able to move far more rapidly than anyone on foot.
Anyone that wasn’t a werecheetah anyway. She brought her right hand up, plucking the dagger out of the air before it could plunge in her head. She had every intention of tossing it back, only to have Keeper Raksasha already atop her. “Fuck you!” she snarled as she was quick to slash out with the weapon, using the blade to block the downward strike of the exiled baron’s sword, before using her superior lycan strength to force him back, causing him to stumble and get herself much needed breathing room. “HORNY!”
“ON IT!” the demonic warrior cackled as he rushed forward, heading first towards the quartet of goblins.
Meanwhile, the threatened wizard Keeper in what the werecheetah had described as a ‘fashion mistake’, simply smiled, leaning his chair back slightly, and going over the small table before him. Seeing the show was about to begin—and knowing that until intermission, no more service was likely to be had—he turned towards the few employees who had yet to flee. “BRING ME LEMON!”
He so hated it when his tea was without lemon.
Horny smirked, seeing the quintet of goblins screeching their heads off in what they thought was an astute battle-cry. “Oh, this is rich,” he murmured as he stomped towards them, the stone floor cracking beneath his hooves as he came upon them like a freight train. He twisted his torso to the side, prepared to take a sharp swing with his scythe...
Only to have a dragon blast him with a deluge of fire that was its flame breath.
While the flame didn’t bother Horny in the slightest, it had another effect all together. The Reaper himself was immune to flame, having been born from one loving whore of a mother and the molten earth itself. His soul armor and hell scythe? Forged in the fires of the Nine Hells, meaning it would take something far hotter to even make them begin to warm to an uncomfortable level, let alone melt.
His purloined outfit on the other hand, including shirt, hat... and his vestments that marked him as THE LAW, such as his ticket book of the damned and badges?
The Reaper trembled, his body shaking with unbridled fury as he saw red. “...I’LL KILL YOU!!” Horny roared as his speed picked up once more. Only instead of slashing the goblins and getting five kills at once, he used the middle one as a spring board, his stone-solid hoof crushing its skull down into its body cavity as he lunged himself at the reddish-brown dragon. He tackled it head on, the blade of his weapon digging into the beast’s shoulder as the warrior demon slammed into it with such might that when they hit the wall behind them, the two took the stone divider with them.
And the wall, after that...
And the wall after THAT!
“He killed Zan!” cried one of Goblins cried as he looked down at his fallen brethren.
“And he was having such a good day too!” cried another. “He even got to burn down Gundan Bridge!”
“...Isn’t that one of ours?” asked the Elite Goblin.
All three regular goblins considered this as they cradled the body of their fallen. Finally, it was the first that had replied. “...Yes. So in reality... this death was a lot better than what Keeper Pilfor would have given him.”
“SHUT UP AND AFTER HIM!!” said redheaded Keeper shouted at her forces, causing the Elite goblin and the three regular to squeak before they gave chase after the two larger forms through the hole in the wall their passage had created.
Britanny would have commented how proud she was of her Minion for losing the tacky attire were she not stuck in mortal combat with the armored Keeper. She was far faster than him but despite her initial advantage, it had flown out the window in minutes. The asshole knew some kind of spell that increased his speed! Still far from her werecheetah reflexes but it was proving to be a hassle as her speed was geared more towards running than her cat-like reflexes...
*Shing*!
...Her right hand raising up to catch another of Pilfor’s daggers, Britanny frowned. It didn’t help that the redheaded bitch kept trying to take pot-shots at her rather than try and take her head-on with this armored asshole. “ADVICE, MENTOR!” she commanded as she was finding little else she could do but dodge, block, and deflect attacks from the two Keepers.
Before the guiding ghost could tell his charge that she should try using spells bestowed upon her by her Dungeon Heart, the ancient apparition was beaten to the punch by Keeper Xin. The Asian woman’s eyes were glowing brightly, a swirl of reds, yellows, and oranges. She reached her right hand forward towards the direction of the two locked in combat and opened her mouth to speak, wisps of smoke trailing from the corners of her mouth like a dragon. “Incendiary Explosio!”
Britanny blinked her eyes as Keeper Raksasha jumped away suddenly. She never got a chance to question why the coward was running as she was suddenly enveloped by a boiling mass of flame that shot outwards from her feet, trapping her within a sphere of burning pain, the flicking flames devastatingly painful. The werecheetah was screaming in pain, her eyes moving left and right unable to see past the fire, see anything. She may have been a werecat but like all lycanthrope breeds, she had a serious weakness to magic.
Hearing the scream of his mistress, Horny turned his head enough to look over his shoulder. His eyes widened as he saw the woman who’d freed him from five-hundred years of isolation was on the losing end of that battle. “HOLD ON, KEEPER!” He shouted, only to find that the other enemies were using his momentary distraction to their advantage. He stared down at the goblins stabbing–although with the size different, it more like poking–him with their short-swords and immediately back-handed the group with his tree-trunk thick arm, sending the quartet tumbling towards the feet of the trio of oncoming dark knights, causing the armored soldiers to back up so they wouldn’t be caught by the smaller Minions-turned-projectiles.
The red demon roared as the dragon bit down on his shoulder. Unlike the flame breath the beast had used earlier on him, that actually hurt! “Oh, you’re going down for that one...” he snarled as he reached a hand up to grasp onto the dragon’s skull, making it scream around his shoulder as the demon’s red thumb ruptured one of the reptilian beast’s eye. It looked like his Keeper would have to wait while he dealt with this Minion first! Hopefully she could hold on.
Horny would be rather crass if he’d have to give up his Meatalo.
It was out of desperation that the cat woman’s ether vents were pumping mana from her surroundings and her Dungeon Heart, working rapidly to keep her in working order as Inferno–one of the most powerful keeper attack spells–was ravaging her body. Honestly, if it weren’t for the link she had to her own Dungeon Heart and the immense amounts of gold she owned that could be converted into mana in an emergency, the area-effect trapping attack of Keeper Xin’s might have been the end of that fight.
Instead, when it finally died down after fifteen seconds, it left the werecheetah a smoldering mess in the middle of a burning crater. Heaving deeply for much needed air and going into a coughing fit, the charred, blackened form of Britanny wanted only one thing. Revenge.
“Still alive!?” Raksasha snarled, both in annoyance that Xin had almost caught him with that blast and from surprise that such a neophyte of a dungeon keeper was somehow standing! That Inferno spell should have incinerated her but good! Still, she was injured, leaving the bitch open to attack. His grip tightening on his intricate sword of obsidian and gold, he began to close the distance once more, intent on decapitating her with his sword while she was incapacitated.
Her blood-shot gaze turned to the Keeper rushing at her with the intent to kill and narrowed with rage. Britanny’s burnt lip was searing pain but she couldn’t help but snarl. It was only thanks to the Dungeon Heart enhancing her lycan regenerative abilities and the adrenaline rush that she was still coherent enough to take stock of her surroundings. It was instinct that took hold as she clenched her fists and roared, “ERUPTIA QUAKIOS!”
Needless to say, The Mentor was quite surprised when the werecheetah struck back with one of the most powerful and expensive to cast dungeon keeper spells: Tremor.
On Britanny’s command, the whole area began to shake uncontrollably, causing the armored warrior to stumble and abort his charge. It was enough of a shake-up that even Horny pulled his hands free of the dragon’s ribcage–with heart in grasp–so he could look up and take stock of what was going on. No surprise really, as the Tremor spell was a Keeper’s go-to for speedily breaching enemy dungeons. By casting it, a keeper would weaken claimed enemy territory and walls, destabilize doors, and damage traps. Maximized, it could even reduce areas to dirt rock so imps could quickly dig through and open a path into an enemy fortress!
In the werecheethah’s case, she continued Horny’s initial work with the dragon as every wall of the Slaver’s Guild surrounding the woman came crashing down, leaving only the support structures and the fact that the building itself had been carved from solid stone working in tandem that kept the ceiling from crashing down and killing them all. Other rooms and hallways were exposed, causing chaos as guildsmen and slaves went running in terror for their lives due to the power that was being released.
Even as others watched on in awe and terror, Dumbledore merely removed his left hand from the top of his tea cup once the tremors ceased and calmly went back to sipping his warm drink.
“...Sweet fucking black abyss...” the Horned Reaper cooed, bringing the dragon’s vital organ up to his mouth so he could idly chew it... only to start chocking as the Dark Mistess jumped onto his back and caught him in a headlock. Now that he had finished with the dragon, she wanted her turn.
Slowly, ash began falling from Britanny’s frame as healthier fur and skin broke free, leaving the woman standing there in the nude. A fierce, robust animalist growl came from her throat, reminding those gathered of a jungle-cat. She may have foolishly rushed into this in her anger but now she was taking this battle seriously. They were out to kill her. Fine. She’d see how they liked it. Closing her eyes, the woman shouted, “TEMPEST MODE!”
And like that, the ether vents in Britanny’s tail and shoulders shone brightly with a sudden influx of mana. Any nudity was hidden as the werecat changed in appearance. She was now a nearly complete black mass, with only her physical outline, spots, and eye-stripes with any definition, glowing with a dark green light. Electricity crackled over her body in little jolts of physical lightning. She opened her eyes, the orbs pupil-less and shining with a brighter green light than the rest of her body, those brilliant viridian orbs staring down Keeper Raksasha, ignoring everything else–even the daggers that Pilfor was tossing at her that now bounced off from her body with a show of sparks.
Completely unnerved that the woman had her attention on him, Keeper Raksasha was quick to shout, “Astralus Bladario!” Upon casting the Multi-Strike spell, his blade was imbued with the ability to strike numerous with a single blow as he was surrounded by five ghostly images of the sword he held in his hand. Feeling protected from head-on assault, he decided to cut off any freedom she had, commanding his Minions, “TO ARMS! THIS WOMAN NEEDS TO BE SORETLY TAUGH A LESSON MEN!”
The dark knights looked back and forth from the Horned Reaper and Dark Mistress trading blows of fire and ice to their Master and the electric kitty... and decided that the latter was the far safer option. One of the two in black armor lead the charge, roaring in battle-cry as he raised his sword high to bring it down upon the werecheetah. With his master and two of his compatriots at his side, they would take her down for certain!
What he didn’t expect was for the kitty keeper to grasp the horns of his helmet and cross her arms, causing the piece of steel armor to turn around in a complete one-eighty. Now blinded by the protective headwear, Britanny quickly snatched the sword out of his hand and lashed out with a nasty kick to his abdomen, sending him flying past the Elite black knight and his fellow regular black knight and straight into the fray that was Horny and Ayane; the poor bastard ending up being frozen solid as he went through the Dark Mistress’ crossfires before being shattered to pieces by a swing of the Reaper’s scythe.
The werecheetah didn’t let that stop her. She quickly turned back to Keeper Raksasha and glared. With her already impressive strength and speed further enhanced by the lightning aura that surrounded her, the woman struck. Just as Keeper Pilfor had been sniping at her with those daggers, the female werecat threw the broadsword like a dart. She smirked as it struck true: the black-bearded Keeper screaming as he was impaled right through the chest, the sword having stabbed through the thickest part of his chest-plate.
Before anyone could get past the tableau of what had just occurred, Britanny struck. She raised her hand and took aim, both her natural lightning affinity and the Dungeon Heart coming together in perfect unison to let the werecheetah know on an instinctual level what to do. She smirked in a rather devious fashion befitting a Dungeon Keeper as she proclaimed, “Electro Deus!”
From the palm of the woman’s hand shot the Lightning Strike, a very powerful spell created as to do a lot of damage to any creature it hit. The spell itself was a versatile one, having been designed so it could be used as an area-effect or a single target. However, there was no denying that its power was greatest when used for a direct hit.
And Britanny had targeted the sword that had been firmly embedded into the center of Keeper Raksasha. The man’s scream became violently garbled as he was electrocuted before cutting off suddenly. The charge went on for only five seconds, but the deed was done. The corpse’s arms dropped to his sides with a loud clank of metal on metal, the sword dropping from a nerveless grip, causing the ghostly swords to disappear before the whole armored mass of death fell backwards. Some of the plates of armor broke upon contact, the impact of smacking into the floor the final blow for the electrically-stressed plates. The flash-fried, skeletal corpse could only stare up at the ceiling with smoking skull sockets, Keeper Raksasha’s current physical vessel having been slain.
The two black knights could only stare down at their fallen lord. The knight in fully black armor turned to the Elite for guidance. “Sir Kaleb,” he croaked out the other knight’s name. “That woman... she... what... we...” now that the keeper had fallen before his eyes, the man’s nerve was broken. He had served the man throughout the entirety of the campaign against Wishveil. To see the man he served diligently had been defeated so soundly shattered his world-view.
The knight in violet-blue armor looked back and forth between the smoking corpse that had been his master’s form, and the glaring catwoman sex-slave keeper. As much as he wanted to grab lord Raksasha’s blade, he didn’t want to do anything that would be construed as an act of aggression. Unlike the Keeper, he wouldn’t come back if he was electrocuted.
Deciding that in this case, retreat was the better part of valor, the Elite Black Knight commanded, “What we do is pull back for now, Sir Vladek. Head back to the Portal Gem and await our lord’s return at his dungeon.” He was slowly stepping back from the woman with his hands raised in a show of surrender, keeping his gaze on her should she try to attack. “Now.”
Shrieking, the black knight sheathed his blade and quickly ran through the opened expanse of rooms and hallways. Snarling to himself in humiliation, the Elite Black Knight Kaleb lowered his arms and sheathed his weapon in a show of non-aggression before he too quickly turned about and retreated from the Slaver’s Guild.
Britanny snorted in annoyance as the cowards fled. However, that wasn’t her problem. The keepers were. That was one down...
*Shing*!
As she caught the dagger out of the area, the werecheetah smirked. And it seemed another was ready to go. Before Keeper Pilfor could fire off another one of her pathetic daggers, the werecheetah crossed the distance like lightning. Her hand caught the other woman’s throat before she slammed the redhead’s body against one of the support pillars, making dirt and pebbles come raining down as she shook the compromised building–again, Keeper Dumbledore having managed to protect his tea from foreign elements.
A low, guttural growl sounded from Britanny’s throat as she held the other Keeper up and off her feet, bringing the redhead that started all this bullshit to her own eye-height. Glaring into the woman’s gaze, Britanny did one of the things she could do best.
Being a righteous bitch.
“You know what, Pilfor?” she said, neither addressing the woman by her proper title nor giving her the chance to respond as she squeezed the woman’s neck. “I realize what your problem is. You’re just a jealous little bitch. You weren’t daddy’s favorite and so you take it out on everyone, insulting others, trying to tear them down so you can feel slightly better about yourself for whatever fleeting seconds you can. You took offense to me and then you didn’t even take me seriously, allowing the others to do the majority of the dirty work. Some would say that’s devious...” she leaned forward so she was nose-to-nose with the woman. “But I know the truth... you expanded your forces and dungeon to the point where everything is spread too thin. All your gold and mana are tied up in keeping everything running that you can’t even protect yourself. Miniscule Minions? No spells? All you did was take shots at me with weak little daggers. You worthless sack of shit.”
She smiled, straightening up a bit so she could glare down at the other woman she held up against the strong structure with her hand, the green in her eyes starting to become a muddied brown as the Dungeon Heart was now pumping its mana through her, using the woman’s rage as a venue. “Since you insult me by trying to take me down like some common Minion, you don’t get to see my full power in return...” her eyes were now a pure red. “You will instead get thoroughly acquainted with pain.”
The werecheetah then used her other hand to stab the woman in the bottom of her abdomen, making her scream out through her tightened throat. The spotted werecat dragged the dagger across the bottom of her torso, slitting open the woman’s belly as she disemboweled her. Great lengths of small and large intestines spilled free from, spluttering onto the floor before Britanny dropped her.
The redheaded woman was heaving deeply for breath now as she coughed up blood, the leather-armored female keeper scrambling with shaky hands to pull her organs up into her abdominal cavity. In the back of her mind, she was screaming a wordless cry. She couldn’t believe it! This feline bitch had gutted her like a blind cavefish! SHE HAD GUTTED HER!!
Fortunately for her, Keeper Pilfor’s pain was short lived. As she had done to the black knight, Britanny lashed out with a kick. However, this time the female werecat had gone with a roundhouse; the force effectively decapitating the woman. The woman’s long crimson hair splayed out as her head would sailing through the air, blood flickering about in a trail from broken arteries and spinal column before it finally hit the rolled a distance, only finally coming to a stop at the feet of the defeated keeper’s half-sister, Xin.
Having witnessed the exchange, Horny wiped away a tear with the finger of a dismembered goblin arm. “They corrupt so fast...” he said with no small hint of pride as he stood with his cloven foot firmly planted on the Dark Mistress’ sternum, pinning the screaming, thrashing woman firmly to the ground.
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(Posted Mon, 19 Jan 2015 01:30)
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