"Bres, I've heard of him! Don't know who he'd 'partner' with though."
Gracie moves in front of Sinclair and the Hypnotist, who seems squishier looking compared to most of the other heroes present.
She points her blade threateningly toward the giants in the blue and bright-green hauberks (but also everyone behind them). A long cone of blinding light emanates from the blade, bathing them in a dazzling glow.
The twisted giants raise their hands to block the frightful brightness of the ancient sword.
Eoten seemingly does not recognise, nor react to Sinclair imparting knowledge on their foe.
The giant merely grunts with a nod as the others pour forward against the amassed monsters;
"Big Red," the Hypnotist's voice booms, "isn't it time you take a load off?"
He peers at the red fomorian that Dunwich missed with his hypnotic gaze. As he stares at the giant, bands of colored lights coalesce into two platforms at his feet. He lifts up to the air as he continues to stare his foe down.
Seven says, "Yes, the League tangled with Bres a few months ago and took the Eye of Balor from him. He must have decided this was a good time to take it back. Press the attack, and by the Forth Wheel of Weyan I shall protect you."
She crosses her forearms and two red bands form around them, as she pulls her fists apart, the red bands move outward, humming in the air, hanging a few feet off the ground.
The Fomorians seem confused for a moment, not moving forward until Bres calls out, "Interesting, someone has chosen a new wielder for the sword. We did not cross through multiple dimensions to hang about at the gates, forward, to glory!"
Two of the giants hang back with Bres, bodyguards more than likely. The blind ones struggle in confusion, clawing at their eyes. The remaining five lumber into the Hall.
The giants are big, but clumsy, and most of their attacks go far wide of the mark. One of them connects with the young sorcerer Sinclair.
The two grappled giants attempt to break free from the grip of an even older giant in a clash of the ... giants. Neither is able to break Dunwich's grip.
Bres' beautiful brows beetle as he sees the largely ineffective assault of his troops. "With me, then, I'll do it myself." He places one hand on each giant beside him and the threesome disappear in a haze of red smoke, suddenly appearing behind the reception desk.
One of the giants reaches down a wraps his massive hand around her head like a pitcher with a baseball.
"Enough, heroes. Bring me the Eye of Balor, or this innocent will suffer for your neglect."
Gylfir snorts in amusement, then takes a flying leap at Bres and comes down on him with an overhand slice.
At Bres' threat Eoten heavy brow furrows, then his broad nostrils flare...
... and he grins menacingly at handsome villain;
Eoten grabs the reception desk, and wrenches it free of the floor with a damaging crack. Lifting the furniture above his head, the brute ignores a faint voice in the recess of his mind It might be antique you ignorant lummox!, before hefting it toward Bres!
:
Silver Tiger moves forward and smashes his open palm into the giant next to him, a wave of invisible force exploding from where the his attack connected into the Giant.
A giant Formorian lumbers up to Sinclair and clocks him with an upper cut to the head. The head of the young mage snaps back and stays attached due to the Shield of Seraphim. His back arches as his whole body absorbs the massive blow. The world starts turning around him complete with stars and birds.
From his knees, Sinclair falls back on his simulator training at the Academy. "The Mists of Morpheus muffles minds," he says while waving his arms and holding his hands in set patterns.
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Deadman's sword slices through the space where Bres' head had been; the Beautiful dodges it effortlessly.
Likewise, when Eoten rips the welcome desk out of the floor and smashes it into the elfin giant, Bres dodges it easily.
Meanwhile, Silver Tiger smashes the face of a Fomorian. The ungainly giants are substantially easier to hit. The giant's eyes roll upward as it pitches backward, falling in almost slow motion and hitting the polished floor with a loud THWACK!.
Dunwich Horror finishes suffocating the two giants that he holds in his outstretched hands. They collapse to the concrete walkway.
The giant attacking Sinclair ceases his attack, staring dazedly at nothing.
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"Yeah, an' yous guys STAY DOWN if you know what's good for ya!" the Greek Titan shouts at the still forms of the giants. "Who's next?"
Seeking to continue clearing the field, and not really sure of what's going on on the other side of Eoten, but pretty sure he can handle it, again three hands shoot out for the three closest foes.
The first is the purple-clad giant directly in front of him.
The first hand connects barely, but solidly.
It proves too much and the giant is knocked senseless.
Next is the green-clad titan wanna-be harassing his ally The Hypnotist!
A hit! A palpable hit.
And again does a giant falter from the unceasing fusillade.
Lastly does a hand from The Hundred-Handed One clash against the grey-dressed giant that staggers all but unconsciously in front of the mage Sinclair.
And another large figure teeters to the ground.
"Yeah, you like suma-dat? You friggin' moolians!" Briareus calls out, somehow managing to make eight rude gestures at once.
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Grace gasps when she sees the "Receptionist" being grabbed and taken hostage. Then Eoten mentions her being bloodless, and seeing few others react in any way of being alarmed at Cynthia's well being.
"Don't mess with me like that!"
Grace is mad. She is young. The desk is no longer in the way. She charges Bres.
She flails and misses as she skids across the shiny floor.
Trying to recover, she barks at him, "You moron, you think the League would be so stupid to leave this Eye thingy, whatever it is, at the tourist's entrance?"
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The Hypnotist turns sharply and faces his would-be assailant without an ounce of fear in his body. ”You brutes! Intimidation is your only language! Then, let me speak to you in a tongue most familiar to your ilk.”
Sickening swirls of greens and purples and blood red ooze from The Hypnotist’s eyes as his eyes become portals into nightmares most horrid.
The giant is momentarily mesmerized, but breaks its gaze to turn and defend its master.
Seeing how quickly you are taking down the giants and that you are able to handle yourselves, Seven turns her attention to Bres. "You will not be so bold when the Bands of Bal'Hemoth bind you."
The yellow energy from her eyes grows and arcs down her arms, flying out from her hands in what looks somehow simultaneously like lightning and spider webs. Bres raises his own hands and something like Seven's defensive ring but smaller and brighter appears in front of him. The energy of her spell splashes off of the magical shield.
One of the giants is briefly confused by Gracie's departure, but thinks little of it and moves to attack the Greek giant who is reaping havoc on his brothers. His attack is turned aside by one of the Greek's many arms.
The one engaged with Silver Tiger continues his battle, attempting to smash the smaller man.
The two tasked with guarding Bres move to engage the British heroes.
Bres steps back from the scrum, placing one hand to his temple while the other raises up, almost as is he is waving at someone in a distance. Instead, the doors to the museum shatter as a toaster oven sized chunk of irregularly shaped rock flies through them and toward Seven.
The world of Sinclair continues to spin complete with stars and birds. He forces himself to stand swaying a bit. Then, he sees the rock fly through the glass toward Seven's back. She's in danger!
Again from his Academy simulator training, he shouts, "By Smith's Invisible Hand," while waving his arms and holding his blue-glowing hands in set patterns causing a not-so invisible, blue hand to try to grab the speeding projectile.
The blow harmlessly bounces off Grace's mystical armor.
"You might wanna think twice about doin' that again! The knight usually wins these kind of fights."
As Red falls, Silver Tiger uses the giant's momentum to leap off Red's head and soar across the room to deliver a flying kick to Orange.
Eoten takes the giant Formorian's shot with a peg-toothed grin;
lýtling = little one, trifling
beadulác = play of battle
The ancient brute swings a meaty arm at the rival giant
Sinclair's magic is no match for the pretty fomorians, he cannot wrestle control of the rock away from Bres.
The orange clad giant takes White Tiger's kick square to the chest, but his armor blunts the force of the attack.
Gylfir takes a swipe at Bres once more, keeping his shield in and swinging with short, compact motions. This less wild swing (presumably?) takes the creature right in the thigh.
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"We gonna stiffle it with the friggin' peanut gallery, a'ight! Yous two moolies are goin' down for a sleepy-sleepy, and the adults are gonna get dis alllllll sorted, yeah?
Now Imma slaps yous and yous are gonna go down real nice-like. 'Cause if you don't Imma do you like Cronus was done. And believe you me you do NOT wanna go there!"
Being one for balance in all things, The Dunwich Horror sends two hands each after both mooks.
The first two attempts are batted away by the giants' flayling, but the follow up attacks find good purchase through defenses busy elsewhere. The hit on the Dark Green dressed giant actually clips him on the 'button', the nerve plexus along the lower jaw.
Both giants put up a ferocious resistance to the barrage of blows, but Briareus has fought against the very legends of Olympus themselves, and the evil ones are laid low.
The Hypnotist curses his luck. These Giants sure are strong-willed...
He surveys the room, looking at all the work the others have put in.
All that time spent in the Dreamtime has not done me well for combat in the Waking World. I may be outclassed.
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”Awaken, Giant, you’ve got some arse t’kick!”
The Hypnotist focuses his Hypnotic Gaze on a sleeping giant, hoping to turn the snoozer into a somnambulant Sentinel for the heroes cause.
Setting her jaw, Gracie swings at Bres the Beautiful.
The gleaming blade surges with light as it strikes the dark creature, delivering pain and misery to the would-be thief.
"Go on, drop it!"
”Awaken, Giant, you’ve got some arse t’kick!”
The Hypnotist focuses his Hypnotic Gaze on a sleeping giant, hoping to turn the snoozer into a somnambulant Sentinel for the heroes cause.
Seeing his minions mangled and a more heroes arrayed against him than he expected, Bres makes the decision that it is better to fight another day.
"You've won the day, this time, but don't think that Bres the Beautiful will forget this."
He steps back, once again bringing his hands outward. Red mist once again shrouds his chiseled form, and when it clears, he is nowhere to be seen.
"Well, it's been a while since an opponent has taken my advice."
When Bres the Beautiful teleports away, Sinclair breathes a sigh of relief.
Still dizzy from his concussion, he turns to Seven without much emotion, "Seven? What do you mean Master Mage of Earth? Where's Uncle Adrian?"
Grace gives a long exhale, looking across the battered entry hall. "Giants... ruddy giants..." she muttered. Her eyes follow up to Eoten near her and then Dunwich nearby. "Uh, no offense."
She looks at her blade, and it disappears in a flash of light. The image on her gauntlet changes to that of a sword. She stays in her armor for now. It seems safest.
"Adrian Eldritch, Master Mage of Earth, is gone. I don't know how, but I know that I carry that mantle now. I fear that this is only the beginning of the difficulties this will cause. Eldritch has held arcane threats at bay for 70 years. With him gone, all of his bargains will be void. Thank you for your help, everyone. I triggered one of Adrian's spells to summon aid, not knowing who it would reach out to."
Max fails to hide his teenage emotions when he presses his crush, Serena, for more information, "What do you mean gone? Gone how? What do you know?"
The logical side of the young mage currently riding in the rear seat or maybe the trunk of his mind starts calculating the implications of what the Master Mage just said. Without the bargains and treaties with countless beings and dimensions of Adrian Eldritch, Earth will be in chaos. Bres the Beautiful probably didn't need help to travel to Earth without the bindings of Uncle Adrian. Every transition between Master Mage throughout history has been fraught with major upheaval and chaos, until a new Master Mage gets control. This is only the beginning.
Giant, see your way out, but take your trash out with you, The Hypnotist commands weakly, as though he was sucker punched in the gut. He could barely stand straight at what Seven said. Eldritch gone? Mac can’t say the two were best friends, but they were a pair of quarrelsome drinking partners. They’d worked on various magic techniques through out their time, teaming up when issues in the Dreamtime proved particularly troublesome. Gone. He looked up to Eldritch, admired his views on their professions and the methods of which he handled his business. He couldn’t quite believe it.
”Surely....,” he trailed off. If what Seven’s saying is true, it’s best not to second guess her and give her the respect.
”It stings deeply to hear of his departure from our realm, but alas, that is life. Seven, you are a rightful heir to the mantle, though quite young, you’ve proven yourself to be one with amazing talents. I am here to assist in any capacity I can, Master Mage.” The Hypnotist, with no regard to looking out of place, gives Seven a courteous bow.
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"I am sure he's at peace now. Would that I could follow." Gylfir says, a bit of weariness creeping into his near-monotone.
Silver tiget shrugs, moves over to his satchel, and produces the rolled scroll. He then presents it to the woman, asking "Was it you your your former master who sent me this yesterday?"
"Gone. I'm not sure if he is dead, though that is the most likely explanation. In any case, all of his magical connections and influence on this plane of existence have been broken. His mansion is sealed, and the wards he constructed to protect this realm are fast dissolving. Even so, Bres should not have been able to come to Earth. He was trapped beyond Avalon by Elven magic. Even Eldritch's death would not have permitted his escape. He must have had help."
"Thank you for the offer, Hypnotist, I suspect that in the coming days your assistance will be critical."
She takes the scroll from Silver Tiger, "What is this?