Shiloh had shifted out of her owl form, waiting for someone to make the first move and doing her best to blend in with the crowd. It had been quite some time since she had been truly immersed in a forest, and having the game start in her home turf was practically the best thing she could ask for. She rocked back and forth on her feet, a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

The second the explosion rocked the stone table, she scrambled to get into the forest as fast as possible. A sword aimed directly at her head met only air as she ducked underneath it and gave its owner a vicious uppercut, sending them reeling backwards. Shiloh didn't bother finishing them off as she ducked, weaved, and shoved her way through the throng of combatants until she finally found herself at the edge of the jungle. She took a brief moment to collect herself before scampering off into the thicket. A dense tangle of thorny vines began to sprout where she stepped. It was better for her to let the weaker and more aggressive contestants weed themselves out before she engaged in direct combat, and making a bit of headway in the direction of the Ambrosia Flowers couldn't hurt. Even though she was not able to see their light above the canopy of leaves, she could feel their pull. Shiloh was also distantly aware of other people crashing through the forest nearby, followed by shouts and screams as people encountered one another in the underbrush.

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Orphos looked up in dismay as he realized they weren't anywhere near the city. He had accompanied the group in order to make some last-minute deals with the more desperate of contestants, but it appeared he was in it for the long haul now. Well, it wasn't like he needed an Ambrosia Flower, but it would certainly make for a nice addition to his stock. Maybe it would unlock some mysteries around Ishmael's soul...

His train of thought was interrupted as a mortal collided with him. He staggered, caught off guard, and ran into another person, who immediately attempted to stab him in the abdomen. A flick of one of his machetes deflected their weapon and suddenly the god was in the fray, raining down blows on anything near him. What was this if not one big bar fight? He was good at those.

Naiyan, still with the other deities on the ship, had summoned a glowing blue holographic tablet in front of her and was typing on it aggressively.

Arcan wheezes for a bit, "Yeah... I'll" she takes another few breaths, "I'll be alright. I just need to breath." she heaves herself to one knee, and nocks an arrow in her bow. One with an odd, bulbous arrowhead with etchings along the shaft.

She then looks around the area, "Where's Marsh?" she asks, until she notices them hovering above everyone, "We gotta get to them."

-----

Alethea nods, "Good luck to you." With that, she splits with Ozark, and moves into the forest, glancing about her surroundings for any possible threats and dangers.

((Kinda wanna do some more stuff with her, but I'll just wait for things to develop and for time in-world to pass forward. Oh, also @Axel I actually meant that Alethea was talking to a rando npc, but I think the dialogue still works out and that she would still maybe say something like that to Ozark.))

-----

As the first seconds of chaos tick by, many fates are decided, while just as many are left open to the future. Those who look outwards from the stone tablet see many dashing off into the jungle, sometimes the skirmishes even continuing outwards.

For Marsh, as soon as they're in the sky, they feel a crash into their back. If they look back, it seems another winged figure decided to launch themselves into slamming into them, looking to start a fight with them.

((If you don't mind, I'll do some NPC povs, you guys are cool to do that too!))

Last edited by Time (February 7, 2023 02:30:52)

The twang of a bowstring was all the warning Shiloh had before an arrow rocketed towards her, grazing her shoulder before burying itself into the tree behind her. She spun to face her attackers and was met with three warriors thundering out of the brush. A single glance was all she needed to know they were wildly out of their depth. Shoddy, makeshift weapons held in trembling hands as the archer of the group struggled to nock another arrow and avoid tripping over roots at the same time. 

Shiloh raised her good arm, and the trail of vines she left behind her surged forward. They engulfed the archer and flung them several yards away. They hit the base of a tree with a sickening crack. She turned her attention to the remaining fighters, and vines began to slowly advance towards them as well. "Might want to check on your friend there," she said in a sing-song voice.

The pair stumbled back and began to retrieve their comrade, shouting some... choice words at the wood nymph as they did so. She ignored them and resumed her trek through the jungle, albeit at a slower pace than before. That little spat alone had drained her more than she was expecting. She was getting rusty. Perhaps it was best for her to lay low as much as possible, even after the initial bloodbath. She pulled a few of her knives out of their hidden pockets in her sash as she walked. She was going to have to rely more on her physicality than she thought.

Speaking of... she tested her shoulder and winced as more blood-- thicker than a regular mortal's, but blood all the same-- began to well out of the gash. She stooped for a moment and coaxed a plant out of the ground, then plucked one of its broad leaves. She applied it to her shoulder like a bandage. It wasn't going to fix the pain or the wound itself, but at least she wasn't going to leave as much of a trail. Shiloh pressed onwards, doggedly continuing towards the mountains.

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In the midst of his beatings (and being beaten himself), Orphos noticed a familiar figure shambling into the woods in a rather odd way. Who was that? He delivered a final blow to some poor sap's face with the butt of one of his machetes before picking his way across the stone table towards the forest. His eyes widened as he realized who it was.

"Crimson!" he called out the weird tone you use when you run into someone at the supermarket you know enough that it would be awkward not to acknowledge them but not enough that you have anything substantial to talk about, closing the distance between them. "Why in Forengard are you here? I didn't think anyone in the pantheon would be legitimately participating..."

Marsh topples almost comically through the air. Drawing an invisible loop-de-loop before regaining his balance. He raises his hand in what he hopes is a placating gesture. "I'm not here to fight!" He blurts our hurriedly "Not even here for the flower, I-" There's a brief moment where he remembers why he's even here, but that brief moment of vulnerability is enough for his attacker to place a solid kick right in his guts. Marsh goes down like a bag of bricks, crashing somewhere amongst the thicket of green leaves. Disoriented, with a possible concussion and maybe a sprained ankle as well. There's also an ache in his side that he hopes is no more than bruised ribs. Somewhere along the way his wings disappeared, most likely a self-preservation tactic to make sure they didn't get torn. He tries to move but that only manages to send a sharp sting of pain up his right leg. He doesn't bother holding back a pained groan, definitely a sprained ankle.


Patil watches the frankly pathetic display. His eyes following Marsh through the air, it didn't even look like the guy put up a fight. He sighs heavily barely managing not to roll his eyes, "There he goes. At least he fell in the right direction." 


((This is what happens when I throw a character who has never, in their entire life, physically fought anything but a pickle jar (who also lost to said pickle jar) into an arena that's all about competition.)) ((Maybe he manages to crash near someone? Who knows, he sure doesn't))

Patil breaks into a run as well, swiftly following Arcan. It's not hard to pinpoint Marsh's location when a loud shriek breaks through the trees.


For some stupid reason Marsh is still trying to talk their way out of this situation, babbling whatever comes to mind. They're stammering over their words, scooting along the ground in an attempt to put some distance between them. Of course it doesn't work, the figure just keeps advancing.
In a moment of pure panic they grab the nearest object, a fallen branch, and hastily draws a box in the dirt. Marsh doesn't think as they pull something heavy and rough out of ground, chucking it at the at their attacker. It's a brick, or maybe a solid block of concrete, and it hits the guy right in their solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him, then the brick falls and lands on his toe forcing out a high-pitched shriek. The winged figure doubles over and does that thing where you bounce on one leg after you stub your toe. Marsh just stares with a mix of mortification and horror, "I am so so sorry, I didn't think- I- Are you ok? No wait of course you're not, I just threw a brick at you, oh my god, I threw a brick at someone, oh gods, oh no. Are you? D-do you need help?" They try to stand and is painfully reminded of their sprained ankle. 

Approaching the scene, Arcan exchanges the arrow she had nocked for different, more normal looking one, she skids to a stop and draws the bowstring back, aiming for the man's wings,  "Back off and get out unless you want to never fly again."

-----

Alethea kept her smile, even when Shiloh tensed up. She turns her back to Shiloh, walking to a rock further away.  She brushes any small amlunts dust or foliage off before climbing up and sitting on top, facing back to Shiloh, crossing her legs.

"I wonder. Why did you spare those two? You could have easily gotten rid of them."

-----
((I suppose I should do one of these PoVs))

Time looks down upon the chaos from Ark's ship, "As expected." He simply states before looking to Naiyan, "What are you doing?"

Ozark, while continuing to venture into the jungle, sees Crimson threatening Orphos. A few thoughts go through his head, with the overall conclusion of "Might as well deal with this now." As such, he swings his sword directly at Crimson, intending to knock him off, while his other arm extends, his hand growing larger, and attempts to keep Orphos on the ground.

The winged figure turns to send Arcan a withering glare but does as he's told and doesn't move a muscle. Patil takes this opportunity to sneak up from his blind spot and wrap an arm around his neck. It happens fast, no more than ten seconds, and the figure goes limp. Patil releases his hold a few seconds later, setting the unconscious competitor down almost gently.

Marsh looks horrified, there's no other way to describe it. They open their mouth to speak but no sound comes out. Eventually, "Is- is he..?"

"No, not dead, just unconscious. How're you feeling?"

"Uh shocked, scared, kinda regretting-"

"I mean physically, what's hurt?" Patil cuts in, crouching down next to Marsh.

Blinking owlishly, it takes Marsh a second to comprehend. "Right, right. Um my ankle, definitely something with my ankle. And maybe my ribs? But I don't think it's serious, I just have a low pain tolerance." 

Patil carefully lifts Marsh's right foot and they wince, he touches a few areas around their ankle just to access the damage. "Sprained." He notes, moving on to remove their shoe, "We'll need a brace. Some kind of binding. I don't suppose you have any bandages lying around?" He asks, looking at Arcan.

Patil nods in agreement, making quick work of creating a simple ankle brace for Marsh. It's not perfect but it'll do. He wraps an arm around their side and practically hauls them to their feet, supporting their weight. "Do your wings still work?" He asks.

"OH!" Marsh exclaims, their wings materializing out of thin air. "I almost forgot about them." A few quick flaps and they're in the air.

"Great, lets go." Patil starts off towards the direction of nearest beacon. 

Marsh lingers, their eyes trained on Arcan. "Thank you by the way, for coming after me." The words were spoken in a rush and Marsh is gone the next second, already hurrying to catch up with Patil.

"Hmph. Coward." Ozark lets Orphos go and shoots his arm up toward the treetops. He latches on to a branch, then pulls himself up, in order to get a better view of his surroundings before he continues. 

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" Shiloh snarled at Alethea. Despite the other's nonchalance, the nymph's guard was still up. What did this person want?

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These events happened almost too quickly for Orphos to register. He crouched in the foliage, trying to recover before he himself moved along as well. "That's what I get for trying to be nice," he grumbled to himself, gingerly straightening up. Nothing felt broken, but getting tossed like a ragdoll had definitely shaken him up a bit. He sheathed his machetes before setting out on a leisurely stroll deeper into the forest, making a point to give the direction Crimson went off in a wide berth.

"I could try to fly us up there?" Marsh eagerly offers.

Patil sends them a look that says, "sure you can buddy"

They visibly slump, "You gotta at least admit it's a good idea, in theory right?"

"Maybe there's an ability that you can use as a deity?" Arcan suggests, trying to be helpful.