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[SP-F1] Courageous Beyond Measure II (Complete)


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McGonagall shot forward as if he'd come bolting out the long barrel of a canon- so quickly, in fact, that Azide had been powerless to stop him. The towering man rushed at a horned creature with reckless abandon, as if he hadn't taken the time to consider just about anything in life. And drawing from his own experiences, it would not be a stretch to say that this was a strong possibility. In any case, the fact of the matter was that McGonagall had hurtled himself straight over the edge of a ravine. 

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Azide watched in horror, his mouth gaping open as his chosen comrade went tumbling down the face of an open ravine, which had been hidden by the uneven terrain. "God damn it McGonagall..." he mouthed, as he sprinted to the edge of the precipice. As he peered over the ledge, he breathed a sigh of a relief as he saw McGonagall sprawled out across the very base of the canyon- clearly shaken and out of it (even more so than normally), but ultimately, alive. "That wasn't even a goat, you idiot! It was a ram!" he shouted. Glad as he was to see the man alive, McGonagall was still the biggest fool he had ever known.

 
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Meanwhile, down below, McGonagall had begun to stir. Having rolled down the eroded incline, he had fared better than he would've in the face of an unbroken vertical drop. That being said, he felt as if a few of his appendages were in positions they had never been intended to be in. Additionally, the impact had left him dazed and confused. Most unfortunately, as he began to pick himself up and clutch at his aching head, his partner took note from above that McGonagall was not alone down there.

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From his perch atop a rocky ledge, Azide spotted several creatures which had emerged from behind the valley's bend. From this distance, it was difficult to be sure exactly what these beasts were, but he felt fairly confident that the taxonomy of these mobs was particularly relevant at the moment. Still, he thought that the creatures resembled a coyote, a pair of big-horned rams, and a particularly wily-looking fox. He could not say that he enjoyed the way they were looking at his 'friend' right now.

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"McGonagall!" called Azide, attempting to project his voice into the canyon. He turned and clutched at a bundle of roots with one hand while finding proper footing with his boots. From there, he began to descend down the cliffside in a steady reverse-climb. "Listen, I don't know what goes through that head of yours, but let's try to stay on the same page just this once." He gasped, as his hand momentarily slipped from the rock it had been gripping, before managing to steady himself once more. "You might not be able to see them from where you are, but there several mobs heading directly your way from around the corner. Now I know I might be asking for a lot here, but is there any chance you could climb back up?" he asked, the slightest hint of desperation leaking into his voice.

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"No can do, boss," McGonagall slurred. He stared up at his partner with a dreamy look, swaying unsteadily as if he'd had one too many drinks, then had proceeded to single-handedly destroy a six-pack. The lumbering man planted the flat of his hand against the cliffside repeatedly, with his opposite hand pressed gingerly against his forehead. Whatever the guy was doing right now, it more closely resembled drunken finger painting than a serious attempt at scaling the slope. Still, Azide gathered that this was no doubt a result of the fall- although with a man like McGonagall, there was really no telling just how badly it had affected him.

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In an attempt to speed up his attempt, yet another hand-off was botched, leaving Azide dangling from a single hand. With neither foot anchored to a stable position, his legs hung freely, supported by nothing. Holding his breath, he refrained from any sudden movements, for fear of shaking himself off of the cliffside altogether. He was going to have to hurry, one way or another- he could hear the hostile party approaching even over persistent the percussion of his throbbing heart. Heights were not something he enjoyed experiencing personally, no matter how great the views could be; that he was being rushed down a very steep incline only further soured the occasion.

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The menagerie of furry creatures were slowly closing in on McGonagall, leaving him only a single feasible route of escape in the canyon- namely, the opposite direction. They smacked their lips and licked at their maws as their glowing eyes feasted upon the image of his vulnerability. So what was it that the great McGonagall decided to do, at this moment? Of course, the answer was that he wandered away from the canyon wall and set off on a drunken waddle directly towards his pursuers, demonstrating that his deluded stupor truly obeyed no master.

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A sinking feeling clutched at his chest and made his heart feel as if it had been loaded with iron. "Oh, for god's sake, McGonagall," he thought, glancing cursorily over his shoulder. Finally, Azide had managed to close the gap between himself and the ground; the long and perilous maneuver was brought to its completion with a dramatic drop, albeit followed by a somewhat shaky landing. Immediately, he spun around and darted ahead just in time to intercept the gruff-looking gang of mobs from reaching his most dimwitted of allies. "For someone so dull, there's a never dull moment with you, is there?" he asked, reaching for the leather sheath strapped to his leg.

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"Azide, buddy! I knew you'd come- I want you to meet my friends," said McGonagall. The tall man grinned uncomfortably wide, showing his teeth as if they'd belonged to the public domain. "That's Wily Coyote," he began, predictably pointing at the expected creature. "There's Dodge Ram, and that guy over there is DDR5." McGonagall finished by shoving his partner to the side, sending him on an direct flight to the ground, then proceeded to step forward with his arms flung open. He looked about ready to embrace the whole world- and for a guy as big as him, perhaps he would have succeeded.

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While the big guy had made a few somewhat clever naming decisions, this was not the time to stand idly and admire anybody's wit- last of all this witless buffoon's. Azide sprang back to his feet and flanked McGonagall, glaring at him icily at an angle. "What the hell, McGonagall? Are you really that dense?" he asked, brushing away bits of loose soil from his coat. Ugh, it was going to take ages to get all of this dirt out of his outfit. Clearly McGonagall had checked out of the department of the mentally competent quite some time ago, so he would effectively be performing as he'd originally envisioned: solo.

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He heard a snicker from behind him as he fished out a basic dagger, and shot McGonagall a look of incredulous disbelief, with his eyes as narrow as they could possibly be without creating the implication of a racist gesture. "Does something about my weapon entertain you?" he asked, arching a brow. The primitive knife wasn't exactly his first choice, but for one reason or another, was more or less his only viable option. It wasn't the flashy, stylish entrance into the world of daggers he'd imagined, but it would have to do the job. Besides, it wasn't as if the trifecta of rapiers he carried would be of any use nowadays, no matter how much more intimidating they might look in his hands.

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Sausage-like fingers clasped themselves around Azide's dagger, so that the knife's wooden handle was covered by the fingers of Azide, while its blade was enveloped completely within the grip of McGonagall. It was a bold and daring move, but above all, it was a stupid one. It was a mystery how the man had survived all of this time- both in Aincrad, and outside of it. "I hate to be the one to tell you this," began McGonagall, as he lifted the blade up to eye-level, dragging its Azide's hand up by extension. The man ran his eyes up and down the blade, giving a rather scrutinizing inspection despite the creatures which continued to slink ever closer in the background. "But I think your sword's broken, buddy. I'm sorry, it looks like you'll have to leave this one to McGonagall."

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And with that, McGonagall raced forward, appearing to have shaken off the shackles of injury. In his hands, an enormous sword appeared in his hands; to call the weapon colossal would be a massive understatement. Provided one had the force to swing such an unwieldy blade, the two-handed sword looked more than capable of cleaving a fully grown man clean in half. If anything, such a weapon only seemed fitting for a man like McGonagall- both in size, and apparent impracticality.

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Feeling as if perhaps McGonagall could actually handle these creatures with a single massive swing of his mammoth-slaying sword, Azide allowed himself to believe in that nitwit of a player, if only just this once. He watched in awe as McGonagall lifted the godly blade high into the air, with the bulging veins of both arms becoming prominent as the man's muscles kicked it into overdrive. With a brazen leap forward, McGonagall launched himself directly into the center of the horde. With a mighty aerial which cleared the heads of each creature by at least several feet, McGonagall was sent flying off-balance as his planet-busting blade became an extremely heavy counterweight.

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For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Azide's palms became intimate with his face once more, with his eyes taking refuge in that sweet darkness. His first mistake had been allowing McGonagall even a single chance- his second had been believing in the man's capabilities for even the slightest of moments. If anything, McGonagall could at least be counted on as a quick ego boost, anytime he himself felt inadequate. "Ah yes, good old McGonagall." As a matter of fact, he was feeling more than adequate for these small fries.

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A red glow enveloped the nameless dagger clutched within the hands of Azide, and he flashed a cool grin at the gathered beasts. As of the most recent system overhaul, coupled with his shift in weapon-preference, he felt more power now at the tips of his fingers than he'd ever felt in his entire body. Unlike McGonagall's two-handed sword, the dagger was a most unfortunate choice when matched against a crowd such as this. It lacked the range and raw mass required to clear multiple foes at once, but he would have no issue with dispensing the group one-by-one.

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ID#32302

BD: 4 + 2 (Equipment) + 1 (Precision) = 7 (Hit)

MD: 1 (Miss)

LD: 14 (Loot found)

 

After a quick assessment, his eyes settled on the creature which had been overlooked in McGonagall's naming spree: it was the wily fox he'd spotted during his descent from the precipice. "You shall be known as Fox McGee," he decided as he positioned himself for the coming move. In a burst of movement, Azide rocketed forward and delivered a clean pair of intersecting slashes, destroying Fox McGee in an instant.

 

(Cross Edge) 1 x 8 x 7 [1 (Base) + 1 (Athletic) + 1 (Familiar) + 4 (Dagger Skill)] = 56 Damage

 

Azide | HP: 106/106 | NRG: 16/24 (-8)

Wily Coyote | HP: 56/56

Dodge Ram | HP: 56/56

Fox McGee | HP: 0/56 (-56) [Dead]

 

+280 col acquired

+1 material acquired

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ID#32326

BD: 5 + 2 (Equipment) + 1 (Precision) = 8 (Hit)

MD: 8 - 2 (Equipment) - 1 (Acrobatics) = 5 (Miss)

LD: 17 (Loot found)

 

Despite his outdated armor and sub-par weapon, Azide felt as if he were managing quite well, all things considered. On some level, this was to be expected- he himself had alluded to his thoughts on the matter; it would truly take a catastrophically unlucky day to put him in any mortal danger on this floor. The other ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, he would be reaping nothing but safe profit. With three beasts remaining: two rams and a coyote, he was pleased to have safely evaded damage for yet another round.

As the animals entered a brief cooldown period, he took the time to launch yet another surgical strike, and soon launched yet another flawless demonstration of his most powerful Sword Art. A quick one-two, and the coyote had fallen just as easily as its comrade.

 

(Cross Edge) 1 x 8 x 7 [1 (Base) + 1 (Athletics) + 1 (Familiar) + 4 (Dagger Skill)] = 56 Damage

 

Azide | HP: 106/106 | NRG: 9/24 (+1)(-8)

Wily Coyote | HP: 0/56 (-56) [Dead]

Dodge Ram | HP: 56/56

 

+280 col acquired (560 total)

+1 material acquired (2 total)

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ID#32330

BD: 6 + 2 (Equipment) + 1 (Precision) = 9 (Hit)

MD: 4 - 2 (Equipment) - 1 (Acrobatics) = 1 (Miss)

LD: 14 (Loot found)

 

"Well," thought Azide, shifting his gaze to the final remaining pair: Dodge Ram, and DDR5. It was poetic almost- that their mess had begun with rams, and would end with rams. But alas, now was not the time for poetry. Azide shifted his grip, triggering the iconic red aura, which radiated from his dagger with a smooth and unbroken flow. His eyes reflected the deep crimson as he launched himself after the beast on his right. Engraved with two perpendicular incisions, Dodge Ram burst in a dramatic light show only moments later. And it was all too easy to sidestep the charge of the sole remaining survivor: DDR5. The only troublesome part... his energy had been drained too low in order to attempt another one-shotter.

 

(Cross Edge) 1 x 8 x 7 [1 (Base) + 1 (Athletics) + 1 (Familiar) + 4 (Dagger Skill)] = 56 Damage

 

Azide | HP: 106/106 | NRG: 2/24 (+1)(-8)

Dodge Ram | HP: 0/56 (-56) [Dead]

 

+280 col acquired (840 total)

+1 material acquired (3 total)

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