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Description

No plan survives contact with the enemy.

    It was something that Octavia was very familiar with. Even more so considering how they didn’t really have a plan before entering the Greystroke Mansion. Her father would certainly have had something to say regarding her rather reckless move. Then again, he’d been in plenty of similar situations himself, where you know that a trap lay ahead, but the only thing left to do was to set it off and do your best to mitigate what comes after.

    Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on whose viewpoint really, Octavia had learned to adapt on the fly. Countless cases where she’d had to wing it and formulate plans on the spot in the heat of the moment was a situation that Octavia was quite familiar with.

    Parrying a lunge from a murderous ghost, she pushed it back before slashing, letting the action carry on into a full circular slash, catching the other ghost that had tried to attack from behind. She spared a glance at Agonistes who was busy fighting off his own set of ghosts, Octavia didn’t miss how he’d never had to manually reload his gun. She needed to get her one of those, she thought to herself before she plunged her sword into another ghost.

    Momentarily free of adversaries, her vision shifted to where Providence was busy duking it out with Greystroke. The latter was throwing out beams of crackling dark energy, using his extra hands to release them in tandem at Providence. Providence however was not one unused to arcane duels, his own abilities honed throughout the centuries. Before each beam could strike, he countered by deflecting them and sending them hurtling at the ghosts that Greystroke had set upon them, effectively thinning out their numbers and giving their group momentary respite.

    Greystroke wasn’t the first magic wielder that Octavia had to deal with. Memories of bringing down renegade mages and cultist warlocks echoed in her mind. Greystroke however was one of the few to have managed to turn into a much bigger threat. He had completely shed his humanity and metamorphosed into a being that could only be described as one that fed on magic. This gave Greystroke a more efficient way of utilizing his arsenal without worrying about magical drawbacks.

It also meant one very big Achilles’ Heel.

Greystroke siphoned arcane energy without the need for a catalyst to channel it because he himself was the catalyst. Which means, as Octavia’s eyes narrowed upon Greystroke, that somewhere along his inhuman frame was a focal point that served as the dam that regulated the flow of arcane energy. Strike at the dam, and his control over arcane energy fails. The question now is, where?

Providence himself must have been looking as well, but between the magical duel and him trying to buy them time, he was a bit occupied.

“Guess it’s up to me this time,” Octavia thought to herself. She readied herself for what was to come next. It was something that she had some time to practice, but no amount of repetition would ever make it not unpleasant.

With the time that Providence had bought her, she took a deep breath, and then she opened her Sight.

The Sight was an altered perception, one that allowed an individual to see the flow of arcane energies. In the same way that magical practitioners could sense magic, this went two steps further by allowing one to actually see the leylines.

It was as though her vision was replaced by something akin to an x-ray imagery. The room, the material objects, and the surrounding space looked as though someone had sucked away the colors and details. Against the dark backdrop, she could see the outlines of Providence and Agonistes, but she could also see the magical energies flowing all around the room. Octavia pushed that all aside however and focused her sights on Greystroke.

His form appeared like a swirling mass of crackling, angry energy. She could see the souls that swirled inside him howling and screaming as they were unable to break free of their tether.

Focus, she chided herself, critical of her limited time. Find it. Find the focal point. Her eyes roved all over Greystroke’s frame, trying to find it amidst the myriad of swirling forms. A couple of seconds passed before she finally found it. There, in a spot just between the base of his neck and right shoulder, the flow of magical energies all intersected and amalgamated before Greystroke expelled them as spells.

Cutting of the Sight, Octavia slightly winced as colors and lights flooded back into her vision. She didn’t spare another second however and instead made a beeline for Agonistes, cutting down ghosts as they moved to impede her.

“Could use a plan any moment now,” Agonistes shouted amidst the sound of ghostly screeching, as he fired another shot at an oncoming ghost. “Target practice is nice and all, but my ears can definitely use a break.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have one.” Octavia replied as she reached his side. “How good is your aim?”

Agonistes gave her a deadpan stare, which wasn’t really all too hard given he had a literal mask on his face.

“I need you to focus on his Greystroke’s eyes. Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t do damage, I need his vision obstructed.”

Agonistes nodded wordlessly and turned to Greystroke gun raised before he started shooting.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Providence had just deflected another beam of spell when he heard Octavia yell out above the cacophony of sounds.

“The bat is the only mammal that flies!”

Such was the unexpectedness and delivery of the odd statement that even Greystroke hesitated for the briefest moment in confusion, allowing Agonistes to land two more bullets on his visage.

To Providence, however, Octavia’s sentence had a meaning. It was a furtive way of passing along a code for a maneuver that they had done in certain cases.

Catching on to her plan, Providence switched stances and abandoned all attempts to deflect and instead went on the full offense. The room seemed to shudder as Providence started to draw in more arcane energy and with haste before he started to unleash one spell after another. This time it was Greystroke’s turn to be on the defense as he was assailed by bullets to the face and a myriad of spells that Providence threw at him. A flash of lightning to his side, a cone of fire that charred at his mangled wings, Providence didn’t relent as he sent each spell in tandem.

Greystroke was overwhelmed by the sheer, relentless aggression, so much so that he didn’t notice Providence raise his right arm and cast an altogether different spell. Greystroke roared as he pushed outward with a defensive barrier that burst outwards like a shockwave, meeting Providence’s spells head on and canceling them out.

His momentary victory was forgotten however as he saw Providence’s raised arm and the spell that it channeled. Greystroke was too late to react as the sound of what seemed to be glass shattering came from overhead and his gaze rose to it. Octavia blinked into vision, courtesy to Providence’s teleportation spell, sword at the ready and aimed directly at him.

Greystroke attempted to swing his massive limbs at Octavia, only to be stopped cold by Providence throwing out a binding spell at him. Ghostly orbs radiated with fear as they met the eyes of Octavia, whose own seemed to burn with avenging fury.

There was nothing to be done as Octavia’s sword found its mark and the room was engulfed by a blinding light accompanied by Greystroke’s screams.

Description

No plan survives contact with the enemy.

    It was something that Octavia was very familiar with. Even more so considering how they didn’t really have a plan before entering the Greystroke Mansion. Her father would certainly have had something to say regarding her rather reckless move. Then again, he’d been in plenty of similar situations himself, where you know that a trap lay ahead, but the only thing left to do was to set it off and do your best to mitigate what comes after.

    Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on whose viewpoint really, Octavia had learned to adapt on the fly. Countless cases where she’d had to wing it and formulate plans on the spot in the heat of the moment was a situation that Octavia was quite familiar with.

    Parrying a lunge from a murderous ghost, she pushed it back before slashing, letting the action carry on into a full circular slash, catching the other ghost that had tried to attack from behind. She spared a glance at Agonistes who was busy fighting off his own set of ghosts, Octavia didn’t miss how he’d never had to manually reload his gun. She needed to get her one of those, she thought to herself before she plunged her sword into another ghost.

    Momentarily free of adversaries, her vision shifted to where Providence was busy duking it out with Greystroke. The latter was throwing out beams of crackling dark energy, using his extra hands to release them in tandem at Providence. Providence however was not one unused to arcane duels, his own abilities honed throughout the centuries. Before each beam could strike, he countered by deflecting them and sending them hurtling at the ghosts that Greystroke had set upon them, effectively thinning out their numbers and giving their group momentary respite.

    Greystroke wasn’t the first magic wielder that Octavia had to deal with. Memories of bringing down renegade mages and cultist warlocks echoed in her mind. Greystroke however was one of the few to have managed to turn into a much bigger threat. He had completely shed his humanity and metamorphosed into a being that could only be described as one that fed on magic. This gave Greystroke a more efficient way of utilizing his arsenal without worrying about magical drawbacks.

It also meant one very big Achilles’ Heel.

Greystroke siphoned arcane energy without the need for a catalyst to channel it because he himself was the catalyst. Which means, as Octavia’s eyes narrowed upon Greystroke, that somewhere along his inhuman frame was a focal point that served as the dam that regulated the flow of arcane energy. Strike at the dam, and his control over arcane energy fails. The question now is, where?

Providence himself must have been looking as well, but between the magical duel and him trying to buy them time, he was a bit occupied.

“Guess it’s up to me this time,” Octavia thought to herself. She readied herself for what was to come next. It was something that she had some time to practice, but no amount of repetition would ever make it not unpleasant.

With the time that Providence had bought her, she took a deep breath, and then she opened her Sight.

The Sight was an altered perception, one that allowed an individual to see the flow of arcane energies. In the same way that magical practitioners could sense magic, this went two steps further by allowing one to actually see the leylines.

It was as though her vision was replaced by something akin to an x-ray imagery. The room, the material objects, and the surrounding space looked as though someone had sucked away the colors and details. Against the dark backdrop, she could see the outlines of Providence and Agonistes, but she could also see the magical energies flowing all around the room. Octavia pushed that all aside however and focused her sights on Greystroke.

His form appeared like a swirling mass of crackling, angry energy. She could see the souls that swirled inside him howling and screaming as they were unable to break free of their tether.

Focus, she chided herself, critical of her limited time. Find it. Find the focal point. Her eyes roved all over Greystroke’s frame, trying to find it amidst the myriad of swirling forms. A couple of seconds passed before she finally found it. There, in a spot just between the base of his neck and right shoulder, the flow of magical energies all intersected and amalgamated before Greystroke expelled them as spells.

Cutting of the Sight, Octavia slightly winced as colors and lights flooded back into her vision. She didn’t spare another second however and instead made a beeline for Agonistes, cutting down ghosts as they moved to impede her.

“Could use a plan any moment now,” Agonistes shouted amidst the sound of ghostly screeching, as he fired another shot at an oncoming ghost. “Target practice is nice and all, but my ears can definitely use a break.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have one.” Octavia replied as she reached his side. “How good is your aim?”

Agonistes gave her a deadpan stare, which wasn’t really all too hard given he had a literal mask on his face.

“I need you to focus on his Greystroke’s eyes. Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t do damage, I need his vision obstructed.”

Agonistes nodded wordlessly and turned to Greystroke gun raised before he started shooting.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Providence had just deflected another beam of spell when he heard Octavia yell out above the cacophony of sounds.

“The bat is the only mammal that flies!”

Such was the unexpectedness and delivery of the odd statement that even Greystroke hesitated for the briefest moment in confusion, allowing Agonistes to land two more bullets on his visage.

To Providence, however, Octavia’s sentence had a meaning. It was a furtive way of passing along a code for a maneuver that they had done in certain cases.

Catching on to her plan, Providence switched stances and abandoned all attempts to deflect and instead went on the full offense. The room seemed to shudder as Providence started to draw in more arcane energy and with haste before he started to unleash one spell after another. This time it was Greystroke’s turn to be on the defense as he was assailed by bullets to the face and a myriad of spells that Providence threw at him. A flash of lightning to his side, a cone of fire that charred at his mangled wings, Providence didn’t relent as he sent each spell in tandem.

Greystroke was overwhelmed by the sheer, relentless aggression, so much so that he didn’t notice Providence raise his right arm and cast an altogether different spell. Greystroke roared as he pushed outward with a defensive barrier that burst outwards like a shockwave, meeting Providence’s spells head on and canceling them out.

His momentary victory was forgotten however as he saw Providence’s raised arm and the spell that it channeled. Greystroke was too late to react as the sound of what seemed to be glass shattering came from overhead and his gaze rose to it. Octavia blinked into vision, courtesy to Providence’s teleportation spell, sword at the ready and aimed directly at him.

Greystroke attempted to swing his massive limbs at Octavia, only to be stopped cold by Providence throwing out a binding spell at him. Ghostly orbs radiated with fear as they met the eyes of Octavia, whose own seemed to burn with avenging fury.

There was nothing to be done as Octavia’s sword found its mark and the room was engulfed by a blinding light accompanied by Greystroke’s screams.