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year 5, quarter 3
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Caius' focus had completely shifted to the bigger threat, the large monster that threatened to destroy the forest around them -- and them -- if they didn't dispatch it quickly. Knowing to expect Bad Breath and remembering what it had done to Cissnei some time ago, Caius at least had some expertise going in. Seeing the mucus shot and knowing it potentially had similar properties, Caius acted quickly and wrapped his arms around Vordun, summoning the short sword and pulling the handles apart to reveal two Gun-Daggers, collectively known as Isp as his initial gunblade disappeared into thin air. Flicking his wrist and sending one of the daggers flying to the side, Caius prompted his Warp abilities focused on the blade as he and Vordun were darted out of the way of the attack.
"Now, Vordun!" Caius called to Vordun the moment they re-appeared, and Vordun would unfurl his wings and take to the skies just as Caius dropped down on his back and caught the dagger. Settling himself on Vordun's saddle, Caius immediately aimed both daggers toward the beast as they started to lift higher up. Clicking the triggers, both daggers would launch rapid fire bolts of energy at the Malboro, getting higher up on its body the higher up that the dragon rose. Once they were above most of the trees and could operate more freely, Caius would leap off the back of Vordun, using the Warp Strike with his daggers once more before swapping to his primary weapon the moment that he landed on the Malboro's head.
Vordun waited in the wings as Caius began a flurry of quick strikes on the Malboro, keeping himself at the edge of their head so he would be at a downward area on the head and not need to strike downward, instead being able to attack mostly normally and at full speed. After a series of strikes, he snapped his fingers and jumped off, just as Vordun launched a fireball where Caius had once been, after his signal. Caius knew that he and Vordun working as one would be integral here.
The repulsive azure salad monster rumbles and screams like a chorus of a thousand discordant banshees as its earlier glob of digestive juices failed to strike its mark; the human, being clever and able to think on the fly, employed wondrous powers of instant matter displacement to blink the very large and fast dragon to a different spot without any difficulty whatsoever – a wise tactic, for the wretched ball of slime had corrosive properties as well, which it quickly demonstrated upon landing against a maple tree, reducing the bark and wood to a miserable puddle of burning toxic sludge.
Natural researchers and scholars have debated for generations that Great Malboros were cut from a different cloth than their lesser ilk, namely for the sheer malignancy of its ever-singular most dangerous property that is its Bad Breath. The frequency of its use was another noted feature of this much more aggressive form of vegetation, since this was how it captured and devoured its prey without resistance, thereby lending to its gargantuan frame and highly accelerated attack patterns.
It seemed that forces conspired to keep the forest defended from a creature so utterly hated as the Great Malboro, for they were protected by a seasoned monster exterminator and a fully mature, fully trained fire-breathing dragon. The evidence spoke for itself: the ability to Warp is the mark of a specialist with knowledge of the properties to bend the forces of space and physics to their whim – in their case, it enabled them to reposition themselves against this rotten cabbage monster in the blink of an eye, giving Caius room to perform a merciless assault of his own from the skies above, thereby robbing his victim of a counterattack opportunity.
Bravely, the mercenary dives off Vordun's back, his body flickering away in a glint of light only to pop back into reality atop the injured and sufficiently enraged Great Malboro, swapping weapons like the professional he was to continue laying on the hurt. Furiously it thrashes and flings its weight around as though it were a putrid wrecking ball, slamming into the trees and snapping many of them like a handful of toothpicks, but the fiend cannot shake the human away like it had done with that armored buffoon earlier, and is summarily roasted by one of Vordun's fireballs in a magnificent finish, unleashing another shriek from its rotten core as it snapped and flailed in revulsion to the immense heat.
———
Speaking of Gilgamesh, he sputtered a cough as consciousness flooded back into him, returning the warrior to the world of the aware. Suffice it to say, that didn't exactly mean he would come back with a perfect state of clarity, since the Great Malboro had undoubtedly knocked the sails out of his boat mere moments ago. "Buh...hggnh..." he stammers.
At the very least, if Gilgamesh could take away anything from this experience, it would end up being the very weapon he had spent hours looking for while roaming the Wanderwood, a stroke of good luck he would certainly appreciate in the given set of circumstances, as it was laying a mere couple of feet from where he currently laid, upside-down and his neck positioned rather uncomfortably against the forest floor.
Still, it was going to take him a decent amount of time to get his faculties in working order. Caius and Vordun were handling the bigger threat rather well, but they had better act fast: the Great Malboro suddenly finds itself consumed with an even greater burst of anger than before, shuddering its lower tentacles about as if it were performing a kind of ominous dance.
What Caius knew of Malboros were their tendency to use their tentacles to attack as well as Bad Breath. Though this one was clearly a different kind and he didn't know just what it would do. That spit attack was already new. Whatever else this variation of the Malboro could do, Caius was in no hurry to find out. The creature had shaken itself around, ramming into trees and making it very hard for Caius to keep his grip until the mercenary had finally been able to kick himself off right before the aforementioned blaze of fire. Caius would call out to Vordun, who would catch Caius on his back.
But the shrieks were deafening to the ears. His ears, his nose, almost all his senses were being assaulted at once. Caius needed to figure out a way to kill this thing quickly, or he risked destroying this once-peaceful forest in the midst of this battle. The longer this went on, the more destruction that the monster caused in its rampage. Caius let out an exhale to calm himself, slamming his palms into his cheeks to bring himself into focus when the noxious fumes made that breath a problem. Coughing a few times, and shaking his head to shake off the pain from the smack, Caius considered just what had to be done.
As the creature suddenly began to grow even angrier, and began its little dance though... Caius knew what was coming. It was the same dance he'd seen before, and at that moment he knew what needed to be done. And he didn't like what needed to be done.
He had gone to Sonora and stocked up on a new set of these after he had used his last two from home on the first Malboro he had fought, and then the second on the giant wyvern atop the mountain. They had been quite useful, and he was glad he had been able to find more in Sonora.
But he knew they needed to act quickly. And there was no guarantee that this would work either.
"Over his mouth" Caius commanded to Vordun. While apprehensive about the order, Vordun had no reason to question it either. The dragon let out a snort in response before soaring forward for the bombing run. Caius pulled out some kind of orb from his pack, and once they were in position he pulled the pin. Hoping that Bad Breath would detonate it at the right time and wouldn't detonate it too early to completely gut it from the inside, he dropped the orb into the Malboro's mouth before sounding the command to Vordun.
"PULL UP!" He called out loudly to the dragon, who, sensing the urgency, would abruptly jerk upwards. Caius hadn't secured himself into the saddle and would be forced to hang on for dear life. Compared to his first outings where he would have quickly fallen off, Caius had learned to hang on far tighter now. Securing the first of the restraints on the saddle, Caius quickly pulled out one of his gun-daggers and fired a few shots at the Malboro to get its attention. If the plan didn't work and it did manage to fire Bad Breath, Caius needed it to shoot upwards, away from the forest.
Though success or fail, it wouldn't stop Caius' entire body from shaking after how close that was. He had flown far too close to the sun. And he knew full well what Bad Breath could have done if he hadn't been quick about it. The condition Cissnei had been in was still burned into his mind.
There is a property that can be found among all members of the Malboro species that has been speculated by natural researchers to play a major role in its hallmark ability to produce so repulsive a smell; following several commissioned anatomical studies carried out using over eight different specimens captured under various ecological conditions, all of them were reported to have a distinctive series of glands that prove flammable when exposed to a great source of heat.
Whether this dragon-riding virtuoso knew it or not seemed irrelevant, for this man focused relentlessly on achieving results, and his intrinsic connection to the great creature that served as his mount spoke volumes more than any poet had the capacity to express in their profession of choice. They soar above the Wanderwood in harmony with one another, carving perfect patterns through the sky as Caius produces an explosive from his inventory.
As if sending this slimy rutabaga a gift from the heavens, he drops the spheroid object the moment the Great Malboro makes the dramatic error of lifting its slobbering gullet back in preparation for the release of its signature Bad Breath — an uncomfortable poking is what halts the beast from carrying through, which seemed to make it squawk as though it had no idea what was about to happen in the next three seconds.
Two.
One.
Thoom. A horrible groan erupts from deep inside the grotesque monster's frame when a stunning plume of fire envelops its whole shape from the inside out, heralding its death with a wave of heat and the unsightly display of a Great Malboro being cooked alive as tentacles wiggled and squirmed for terminal release.
Rather auspiciously, the angry vegetable's earlier tantrum had cleared enough of a space to keep the resulting conflagration produced by the mercenary's grenade well-contained and unlikely to spread any further, meaning disposal of the carcass became nothing more than a matter of time and patience. An intrepid adventurer might even take the opportunity to strip the corpse for valuable parts.
———
Unfortunately for one such 'adventurer', Gilgamesh had barely managed to recover his senses to where he could recognize that his current point of view was rather tilted, to say the least. "Whoa. How'd I end up all the way here?" he asks below his breath, rhetorically, since it was obvious to everybody else how he did.
When he moved to try and rub at the latest sore spot to develop on his neck, the warrior's blank white eyes widened with a mixture of confusion and delight. By Ramuh's curly beard, his naginata had turned up! Where the devil had it gone off to?!
Even from such an awkward pose, Gilgamesh stretched an arm out to retrieve his beloved weapon, then fell over when gravity decided it had enough of trying to let this idiot keep doing things so ridiculously. The armored warrior sat up, which was all it took for him to look toward the right so that BITTER AND MERCILESS ANGEL OF GRIEF WHAT IS THAT?!
Swift reflexes brought a hand up to use a clump of the red fabric that composed his telltale shawl as a noise suppressor the moment Gilgamesh came face-to-face with a roasted Great Malboro, then did everything in his physical capacity to prevent himself from vomiting upon realizing just how badly the creature smelled up close. But how the heck did it get here to begin with? More importantly, what actually happened?
"Hahaaa! I must have worked myself into quite the frenzy!" And there he went again, throwing on the veil of lunacy as only Gilgamesh could. "Another fell beast meets its end at my blade! And it's all thanks to this guy and his flying rotisserie!" Well, if nothing else, at least Caius and Vordun received some kind of acknowledgement regarding their involvement, but it didn't take advanced magical theory to figure out who did the real work.
Caius Dragelion ● THAT'S ONE DEEP-FRIED VEGETABLE ● 652 words
Caius was nearly thrown off Vordun when the explosion that sounded in the creature's mouth and then the sensations from the creature going down and hitting the ground with a loud thud rocked him. Vordun took Caius' heavier breathing to indicate a need to land, and the tired dragon would clear some space from the beast before touching down. Caius rolled off Vordun's back as he propped himself to a sitting position on a nearby tree. Sweat beaded down his face as he breathed heavily, exhaustion finally beginning to replace the prior boost of adrenaline that had been swimming through his body.
"Holy cow... We actually pulled it off" Caius breathed out, as he rested his head back against the tree bark. It had taken a lot of quick action just to avoid the thing while doing the damage he did, and it had been a huge risk throwing that explosive in there. If Vordun hadn't been as quick as he had, even a bit slower they would have potentially been swallowed by the explosion, or struck down by the creature's flailing tentacles during its death throes. Or worse, the creature might have been able to use Bad Breath before the explosive went off, and they would have been too close to escape it. That had been far too close of a call for his liking.
His weapons disappeared as he rested back against the tree, when he heard the boasting cries of a familiar voice. Ah, right. The idiot. It sounded as though the idiot had decided to take credit for the kill. He... Somewhat credited him and Vordun? Sort of? Honestly, he was too tired to care all that much. He would take his usual from the creature after he got back his bearings, but for now he just needed to... Well... Do just that.
Holy cow, indeed. Luckily, Great Malboros were significantly rarer than their lesser developed counterparts, and even then, they always stood out for being so violent and putrid. For Caius and his dragon companion Vordun to kill one was no easy feat on its own, but to accomplish the task with such masterful technique and incredible speed? That was entirely unheard of; truly, slaying a creature this inherently dangerous in such a manner was an accomplishment worthy of the highest praise.
Alas, there is an old saying that goes like this: success often occurs in private, while failure happens in public. Granted there was no crowd to observe the simpleminded Gilgamesh hogging all the glory for himself—especially given he did absolutely nothing but get tossed like the grenade Caius had used on the dead vegetable monster—but the truth of the matter would never be extinguished so long as the monster killer had anything to say.
Flourishing his newly recovered naginata, Gilgamesh hums contently as it effortlessly spins and twirls through the air like an extension of his own body, carving perfect silver traces in a vortex of bright crimson. "That's the last time I let you out of my sight!" the swordsman coos as though his weapon had an identity of its own. If close attention was paid, one could feel the Wanderwood itself cringe at how pathetic this fellow was.
"Right! I almost forgot!" Without delay, the armored warrior turns to face the exhausted Caius and Vordun, his chest puffed up like an arrogant rooster strutting about the chicken coop. "For your efforts, you have my permission to strip the corpse of anything valuable, most brave and daring companions!" A redundant exclamation, but whatever. "Instead, I require directions to the nearest populated settlement. If what you claim holds true, then it falls upon my shoulders to discover the cause behind my displacement!"
Was this some kind of trick to lower his guard? Heavens, no! Gilgamesh was just an idiot, as usual, but the other swordsman's earlier claims had piqued the interests of the weapons collector, whose unsystematic and highly disorganized thought processes had just started remembering again. Either that, or the concussion was starting to finally wear off. Regardless, there would be no convincing Gilgamesh of the bitter reality to his situation; he was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, whether or not he was actually prepared to do so.
"Plus, I, uh..." He paused, awkwardly casting a couple of glances around the forest before nervously twiddling the tips of his index fingers together. "I don't have a compass." Whether or not Caius and his fire-breathing bodyguard had any more patience left in their systems was entirely up in the air, but a single point in the right direction was all they needed to return back to the order and stability of their own lives.
Or they could be trolls and deliberately misguide him into another patch of Malboro sproutlings. Either way, they were being presented with an opportunity to finally get rid of this overly eccentric donkey, and hopefully forever.
Caius Dragelion ● TO THE VICTOR GOES THE SPOILS! ● 516 words
As the idiot in hulking armor approached, Caius remembered what he had said earlier and immediately sat up, letting out a low growl as even while tired, he managed to summon his sword into his hand, using it to begin to prop himself up. Long blonde locks drenched in sweat and his body language telling of fatigue, it was unlikely he would be able to do so for long. But he would defend himself if need be. Vordun sensed Caius' anxiety and let out a much more intimidating growl toward Gilgamesh protectively.
But it seemed it was unnecessary. Caius quirked a brow in confusion when the man would suddenly begin bellowing about giving them permission to take from the corpse of the beast, as though he had killed it himself. The old Caius would have just threatened to kill him and told him to buzz off, but... Well, apparently meeting someone special changes things for a lot of people and Caius apparently was no exception.
But of course the fool wanted something in exchange. Luckily it was no big deal, he just wanted to know where the next town was. Caius nodded his head as he got to his feet. "Vordun" Caius spoke toward the creature as he pointed toward Gilgamesh. Vordun seemed to understand what Caius meant as he let out a roar and lunged forward. Picking up Gilgamesh in his talons, Vordun would flap his wings and fly into the air. Caius tossed his weapon upwards and warped forward, landing on Vordun's back and holding on tight.
In truth, Gilgamesh was just too large and bulky for Vordun to reliably hold both him and Caius (Who was sizeable himself, though fairly lean) on his back, so Caius had improvised. Once they were high up enough, Caius would point forward.
"See that crag? Head toward it and keep going forward. That will take you to Torensten, the port city. If I were you, I'd avoid Provo. Unless you like the idea of catching the plague."
With how stupid he was, Caius felt it good to point that out in particular. Speaking of stupid, Caius tapped Vordun on the shoulder that had one of the talons holding him, and Vordun tightened his grip on Big Red.
"I'm going back to take some materials from the beast to sell and pay for the materials I used to slay it. If you want us to drop you somewhere close to that crag-" (And he hoped he chose soon, the smell was starting to make him want to vomit again) "-Then make your decision now."
Embarrassment swiftly turned to horror as Gilgamesh produced an audible shriek of distress when Vordun let out a mighty roar, bursting into a floating charge so that the dragon could grasp the thick-headed swordsman by his shoulders with powerful talons.
"Aaiiieeeee!" he screamed elegantly, turbulence whipping against his painted face to the point it started to appear rather misshapen from the sheer velocity of Vordun's ascent. The flying reptile's master blinks into existence atop the creature's back, because of course he gets to ride shotgun, then attempts to fulfill the dumb warrior's earlier request for directions by pointing him toward the city of Torensten—
—but Gilgamesh, terrified for his life on account of being dangled hundreds of feet above the air against his will, merely kicked and screamed as if Caius had abducted a small child instead, no doubt making it exceedingly difficult for his poor dragon friend to keep the stupid warrior restrained properly. His deafening screams did nothing to help the veteran monster slayer's case, either, especially when he attempted to express caution over the town of Provo.
Just as the trio made their approach on an upcoming lake, the obnoxious Gilgamesh seemed only to grow even more belligerent with his thrashing and seemed to break into a rather pathetic mixture of fearful sobbing. "Please, I beg of you, don't eat me! I taste like dried troll shavings and have no nutritional value! I'll just give you really bad gas, pleeaaaase dooon't eeaat mee-hee-heee!" One sudden movement was all it took for the gargantuan wanderer's body to buckle underneath Vordun's claw, followed by the sudden rip of fabric until, against all better judgement, he slipped loose with a sudden gasp.
Long before Caius would ever realize what had happened, and possibly due to the fact that his so-called 'passenger' had now finally stopped producing so much noise, Gilgamesh plummeted down through the air, falling, falling, falling all the way to the water's surface before vanishing underneath the drink in a painful belly flop without so much as a visible ripple. He did let out a yell of anguish, but it was much too late for it to have any discernible effect.
But, one thing remained certain: he did need a bath.
[ THREAD... EXIT? ]
Caius Dragelion ● That question mark is just for laughs ● 361 words
Caius just bowed his head. Low. Head slammed into the back of Vordun's neck. Believe it or not, Caius had realized full well Gilgamesh had fallen. How? Because how hard was it to figure out that if he wasn't talking, he was probably gone? Luckily they had just flown over a lake, so Caius wasn't in any serious rush to catch him. Slowly, Vordun would fly down at Caius' command. Once he was sure that the big idiot had resurfaced (If he didn't, Caius would either wait or go and get him himself), he dismounted and repeated what he said before. But blunter. Caius had done everything that he could in order to accommodate for Gilgamesh being an idiot, but apparently nothing could prepare for Gilgamesh's level of idiocy.
"The crag. That way" He spoke up as he pointed toward it. "Keep going forward when you get there. Torensten. Port City. Stay there. Avoid Provo. Provo is plague town. Plague town bad."
Caius was visibly annoyed, but the idiot would just get himself killed if he didn't at least intervene here. Well, at least the question was answered as to where to drop him off. With that, Caius re-mounted the saddle and motioned for Vordun to head back to the forest. Once there, they would take a trophy from the creature as well as things that could be sold. The trophy Caius took was nothing but a small tentacle, anything else would stink up his abode to high hell. But anything else he took for selling could be used for materials, he was sure, and thus would fetch value. Especially for a more rare kind of Malboro.
Once done, Caius and Vordun would take off. After the battle, they were far too tired to do much exploring of the forest. They would need to come back another time, he decided. It was better to retreat to Torensten for now to rest and recuperate before returning.
