Omen

Omen and Circe cut into them as if they were paper. What had they even been scared of in the first place? Omen had worried that with the numbers advantage, they would be easy pickings for Cerberus and its brood. That did not appear to be the case. They were hardly fighting the dogs -- they were fighting the clock. Inferno Cavern was slowly cooking them alive, but was there really anything to fear if they pushed the offensive? Omen roared again, swinging his axe wildly into the pack of Hellhounds. Twice, it connected, putting one of the hounds on death's door and burying the other. The third an

Their snapping jaws, their evasive maneuvers -- pack tactics, Omen decided. Was that why they weren't landing clean blows? He couldn't help but feel as though that that definitely played a role in it. He needed them to deliver him a clean hit, so they could take damage from his Thorns. But they weren't. They darted past him, nipping at his heals, faked a lunge, crunched hard on his leg. Aggravating. Though Omen didn't show it in his face, he showed it with his actions. He ditched the shield momentarily, lashing out wildly with his axe, cutting the remaining health values of the Hellhounds in h

"Alright. Then let's not waste anymore time." He rolled his neck and turned around, ready again to embark into that hellish hole in the mountains. It was back into Inferno Cavern with them. This time, however, they headed bravely into the heart of it, where the last of the Hellhounds still remained. They passed the lava pool and pushed in deeper still. Omen drew his axe and his shield, wielding them both at the ready. The Hellhounds descended upon them, magma dripping from their jowels, their eyes alight with the flame of their three-headed master. Some howled. Others snarled. Omen joine

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Freyd asked him if he cared to explain what he'd meant when he said that he used to have a nicer axe. Omen shook his head. "It is a long story," Omen rumbled. "Maybe another time." If he had to sit and explain what had happened to him, he would be there for a while. It seemed like everybody had other things they needed to do. Omen did not want to take up any more of their day than he already had. He shook their hands regardless. They had done a great thing for them, and Omen was truly appreciative. They offered to help them level up, if they were interested in joining the frontlines

Circe seemed surprised at first, but was willing to hear him out. Omen was thankful for that. "Forget the crystals, forget the smaller groups," he said, "we need to take them all out at once. We are making it unnecessarily difficult on ourselves." He had felt their damage. It was not nearly as alarming as he had thought that they would be. "The only thing you need to worry about is the heat. The starter potions will heal you for half your health -- that is more than enough, though I doubt you will need to use it." Omen considered it further. "I will use the crystal in an emergency,

<<THREAD SUMMARY>> FTK LD ROLL: ID#232053 LD: 3 (Nothing) Pinball Receives: [Word Count: 3806/10 = 380.6] * [True Tier: 8] * [Group Factor: 0.6] = 1827 * 2 = 3,654 EXP Laurel Wreath: 274 col Omen Receives: [Word Count: 3806/10 = 380.6] * [True Tier: 1] * [Group Factor: 0.6] = 228 + 5,000= 5,228*2 = 10,456 EXP 10,000 Col <<Forgotten King's Authority>> Unlocked Circe Receives: [Word Count: 3806/10 = 380.6] * [True Tier: 1] * [Group Factor: 0.6] = 228 + 5,000= 5,228*2 = 10,456 EXP 10,000 Col <<Forgotten King's Authority>>

Omen watched Circe carefully as she spoke. There was a certain tone in her voice that betrayed something. He did not comment on it. He knew better than that. He stayed quiet, listening, nodding once, and returning his attention to the fight at hand. Omen was not surprised when Circe, whether out of frustration or boredom, hurled a knife successfully into the back of the Forgotten Time King. The fight was over just like that. After Circe's attack, Pinball drove his daggers home, and the Forgotten Time King was successfully vanquished. Pinball began to leave. As he approached, Omen a

"I thought that it would be a good way to reconnect with my children," Omen said. Though the thought made him gloomy, Omen's expression remained neutral. His tone did not dip or slow. He did not sound or act sad, though he felt the emotion grip his heart. "My wife encouraged me to." His expression grew pensive. He ran his fingers through his beard. "I was about to say that if I could go back in time and smash the thing into a million pieces, I would," Omen said. "I had a grandchild on the way, you know. But I don't think I would. I feel as though I have a responsibility now to help the o

Omen hadn't managed to do much, but he hadn't gone into the fight expecting to, either. Again, he progressed purely due to another player's kindness. Omen sincerely wished that he could pay them back, that he could do more -- but he knew he couldn't, and he knew he didn't have anything that would interest players of their caliber. Maybe once upon a time he could have, but... well. There was no use dwelling on the past. He stowed his shield and weapon both across his back. It took some adjustments, but he made it work. Morningstar commented on his axe. "Thank you," Omen replied. He couldn

"Yes. It could have gone better." Omen frowned. As soon as they were out of the cavern, he was scrolling through his inventory and moving things around. They'd flailed around fighting just two Hellhounds and it had been his fault -- in hindsight, he'd been foolish. Their approach was flawed. "My mistake," Omen said. As he said it, Circe would have a trade offer pop up in her vision. It was a single Accuracy consumable. "I should have given this to you before we'd entered. It slipped my mind." He crossed his arms and stroked his beard with one hand. "And I believe we must make

Cordelia seemed sure of herself, and sure that she'd be able to defeat the Forgotten Time King. Omen frowned. By herself? Was it not dangerous? He supposed that that was the reason the consumables were handed off to him, but was that not a little reckless, if not just a bit unfair? Omen wished then that the man who'd set this up had come to complete the quest himself. Or at the very least, that Omen was strong enough to assist her. But he hadn't, and he wasn't. One day, Omen vowed, he would return the favor. Oz, the sketchy looking man in the bucket hat, seemed to activate an ability tha

Circe's attack landed, but it didn't finish the Hellhound off. Omen grimaced. The heat was getting to him, and it was getting to Circe even worse. They wouldn't be able to last much longer. Again, in the midst of battle, Omen was reminded of the things that they could have done better -- that he could have done better -- had he only thought harder on the strategy going into Inferno Cavern. It was no matter. They'd have another chance, after they left to heal and recoup. But first things first. The Hellhound had to die. Omen hoisted his axe. The Hellhound seemed to scrape together whateve

Omen pondered the thought. Atonement for past sins? It was not far out of the realm of possibility. But Omen did not know if there was atonement equal to taking someone's life. He ran his fingers through his beard. "Perhaps that is the case. But I wonder..." The boy didn't strike Omen as the type that would be seeking out forgiveness -- but was Omen truly such a good judge of character? There were too many unknowns, he decided. Too many things he didn't know that he would need to before he could have a proper opinion on the criminal's true nature. "Yes," Omen agreed. Whatever the reason

Omen nodded. If Circe was willing to go along with it, then Omen figured that he could just as well do the same. The two that led them across the floor to Ki'Raion were young, though, and they talked like young people. That was to say, a lot. And though he couldn't very well understand what game they were talking about, what with their brochures and boy toys, he did understand the instructions given to them. "Understood." When Ki'Raion came into view and Morningstar cleaved into him, Omen was close behind. His axe flashed outwards, hardly cutting through the thick hide of Ki'Raion -- but

"Yes," Omen agreed, "it does." He had crystals at the ready though, just in case. The boy was quick, and he'd nearly brought the Forgotten Time King to half-HP already... but things got weird in a battle, and he could very well still end up taking a nasty hit at some point, purely because he was unlucky. If that outcome came to pass, Omen would heal him. Circe leaned in, casually inquiring as to how he'd fell into cahoots with a player killer. Omen grunted. It was a good question, and warranted. But the truth was, Omen wasn't entirely sure himself. "I don't know him," Omen admitted. "When

As the battle raged, the flaws in their plan began to show themselves, bright as day, at least in Omen's mind. He was all too aware of the plan's shortcomings, and already he was considering the adjustments they would have to make going forward. Omen grimaced. It was unfortunate he had not realized those things sooner. Circe made short work of finishing off the first Hellhound and gravely wounded the second. The beast yelped, stumbling backwards with knives embedded in its pelt. Omen saw his opportunity and he took it, bringing his axe down on the head of the Hellhound in front of him. T

"Yes..." Omen hardly had time to reply before Freyd had shoved portions of food into their hand and hurried them down the road, walking and talking about things that Omen could not as quickly wrap his head around. Entertainment director? Flight? Boy toy? Morningstar wasn't much help either. He asked for tips. 30% was outrageous, by the way. Omen wasn't sure he'd ever tipped more than 20%. That was the only thought that had time to formulate in Omen's mind as the two of them were ushered through the safe zone. He would have stopped, or even been a little worried by the players' intentions

"Let us hope," Omen agreed. The Forgotten Time King had eyes on them. Did Omen not feel a twinge of doubt? A seed of worry, in his gut, telling him he'd made a horrible mistake bringing Circe here? What if it really was a trap after all? But no, Omen did not worry. And he did not doubt his decision for a moment. That was simply the type of man that Omen was, and that did not change when he was left without obvious protection, staring down a quest boss that could kill the both of them in one shot. Thankfully, today was not the day Omen would die. Pinball flickered out from his stealth and

They spotted the pair of Hellhounds prowling the banks of a lava pool. Circe led the charge, hurling a spread of throwing knives at the both of them -- one was struck, but the other was quicker, darting around, its eyes fire and its jaws dripping with magma. They both stopped and growled, barking a horrible sound, their eyes set on their attacker. That was, until, Omen filled the caverns with his own Howl. Deep and reverberating, it instantly took the attention off of Circe. Without wasting a moment, the Hellhounds lunged at him. One snapped at air, running past him. The other sunk its j

“No, it is not your average day of grinding,” Omen agreed, “but I do. It might take some time. We will be careful. The experience makes it worth the trouble.” Omen adjusted the axe stowed across his back. His eyes were on that hellish horizon, and Inferno Cavern in the distance. He squinted. “Alright,” he said, “here’s the plan. “The information I’ve received states that there will be three Hellhounds per person. We cannot handle six at once. We have neither the health or the energy. So we will approach them two at a time, defeating them in thirds before retreating to heal and recov

“Understood,” Omen rumbled. The boy didn’t like to talk, that was for sure. He gave Circe a sidelong glance as Pinball opened those huge doors to the Forgotten Time King’s throne room. He wondered what had sparked the agitation. Was it just the orange cursor? Omen could’t blame her if that was the case. It made him, too, uneasy. But Omen followed without question, and he hoped that Circe would follow. As they entered the boss room, Pinball disappeared. Omen grumbled something incomprehensible and turned to Circe. He swiped open his inventory, then the trade interface. “Here,” he told her

Did he trust him? "No," Omen said firmly. "But he has helped me once. I do not see why he would not help me again." That was how they had found themselves in the thick of the Nineteenth Floor, under the protection of a killer. Omen had reached out for help, again, and to his mild surprise, Pinball had accepted. Omen and Circe were to meet Pinball at the doors to the boss room of the Forgotten Time King. Omen led the way. He was familiar with skirting around the ranges of aggressive mobs, and with Circe's help, they were able to make it to the boss room without being randomly attacked; it

Omen stood with Circe in the 19th Floor Settlement, running his fingers thoughtfully through his beard. "A support skill, hm?" Omen's voice rumbled broadly. He cut a very conspicuous figure, given his size and volume. "We would need help. We cannot do it alone, yet." He had asked Circe to accompany him in search of new quests. He'd talked to a few people and learned of a couple of the quests that unlocked extra skills -- he was very interested in collecting them, given their usefulness. One of them had been something called "Photosynthesize," which increased the effectiveness of th

Purchasing x1 T1 Immolation Potion [100 Col] Purchasing x1 T1 Water Canister (x3) [400 Col]