Robin
Kuo shifts his eyes upward, clenching his teeth at the billows of smoke polluting the green, skyward ceiling of the Exiles' Watch. Initially, he grimaced at the thought of the unneeded attention - Especially if it caught the eyes of the other outsiders - but suddenly breaks into a smirk. *``'Shouldn't matter anyways; let it be the signal of somethin' great comin' their way.``* 

```fix
"Should. Y'can stay on the sidelines and be my backup. If I do somethin' stupid, jus' keep me from dyin'. If I get hurt, I also need you to take me t' the clinic. Big sign, y'cant miss it!"```

The flame devours the wood and the oxygen around it, the wood dissipating into nothing but a fine, black ash. The hero squinted, trying to see beyond the remnants of the thick smoke. He inched his head forward, barely making out the figure of a silhouette —

***Kuouo is met with the sense of an overwhelming pressure. It was a harrowing guardian. A violent warrior. A voracious beast. The definition of a true MONSTER.***

Kuo instinctively takes a step back, warning signs blaring loudly in his head. The smoke finally clears, revealing the beast amalgamated with the infestation of roots distorting their body mass. Despite everything about the roots and their parasitic nature plaguing their body, the bandit stood in awe at the behemoth's ability to even stand.

*``'This must be true Hell.'``*

His pupils shivered, grasping both Infernium and the **Veirok Cure** Even tighter in his sweaty paws as the ***Thorn-Crown*** Brandished the greatsword that scaled twice Kuo and Cumhall's size. Despite the second thoughts paired with the instinctive nature to flee, Kuo takes a step forward, taking a deep inhale.

It did little to calm his nerves, but set his mind on the right track. Mana manifested around Infernium, the hero beginning his slightly impromptu-gameplan effective immediately. 

**Flames burst from the dagger, licks of fire flying through the air and targeting the masses of swollen flesh as Kuouo quickly backstepped out of the Thorn-Crown's range, anxiously prepared to dodge their enormous blade or any controlled roots that may come his way.**
Keri
```diff
- "Duly noted" -
```
He stepped back and went to crack his knuckles but was left with nothing but dissatisfaction as he had just cracked them moments ago. He didn't bother drawing his weapon as the bandit had so politely asked him not to kill the beast, and using his bare hands would make that much easier.
```diff
- "An' here comes the guest of honour" -
```
The beast was large and intimidating but Cumhall seemed unphased, almost pleased, though he would rather not engage in a fight with such an intimidating presence, you don't often get to be picky on these kinds of missions.
He sighed, and cracked his neck, dropping into a more serious demeanour, he bent his knees and raised his fists preparing to intercept any coming attacks, assuming that such a dishevelled creature would use nothing but sheer force and strength to attack.
Though now as he was face to face with the beast, he couldn't help but wonder weather or not it had some sort of magic behind it, best not to worry anyway, only makes it harder to fight.
Dolores
*`The familiar scent of smoke dominates my dreams, and I—`*
*`I inhale its acrid tones of soot and ash, my mind obliged to wander, and I—`*
*`I ponder this scent that trails throughout my lungs, its nature and its origin, and I—`*
*`I recall the days of my childhood, sat opposite that hearth, and I—`*
*`I wonder where those days have gone?—and I—`*
*`I...`*

*`I recall...`*

*`The ghastly scene of the surface before me, the earth bubbling with heat and smoke, and I—`*
*`And I find my knees trembling, and I—`*
*`And I am endowed with a fear and a scar my soul would never forget, and I—`*
*`I...`*
*`I don't remember this.`*

*`I dream, and I—`*
*`I see a battlefield before me, and I—`*
*`I take in that scent, that scent of smoke again, and I—`*
*`I recall those days by the hearth, and I—`*
*`I recall that scar, and its pain rouses in my chest, and I—`*
*`I tremble again, and I—`*
*`I see the form of my beloved, my lifetime companion, oh, why do you... And... I...`*

*`His blade to my neck, and I—`*
*`I ask him...`*

*`...`*

*`The scent again overtakes my lungs, and I—`*
*`I feel the warmth and heartbeat of those who approach me, and I—`*
*`I would lift my head to greet them, in that faint dream, and I—`*
*`I come to a realization, and I—`*
*`I realize what the world is before me, and I—`*
*`I...`*

 The lusterless roots that course throughout the Root-Crown's head, disfiguring its eyes and spiraling into a crown-like form about his brow and head, begin to glow. While subtle, the familiar presence of a dim, azure-blue glow roused from within the wooden roots, their form slowly filling with vitality, taking on an identical nature to those that overgrew the Great Tower that stood behind the Root-Crown.

*`I see the spectacle of a brilliant universe around me, and I—`*
*`I open my eyes to this reality, again and again, and I—`*
*`I ponder, and recall, and I— yet I—`*
*`I can only see that divine palm before me...`*
_ _

```fix
Ｙｏｕ ｎｏｗ ｗｉｌｌ ｓｗｅａｒ ａｎ ｏａｔｈ ｔｏ ｍｅ.
Ｔｈａｔ ｙｏｕ， ｉｎ ｐａｙｍｅｎｔ ｏｆ ｙｏｕｒ ｔｒａｎｓｇｒｅｓｓｉｏｎ ａｇａｉｎｓｔ ｍｅ

ｗｉｌｌ ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅ， ｉｎ ｄｕｔｙ， ｕｎｄｅｒ Ｉ， ｙｏｕｒ Ｅｚｅｒ```

*`To those who know not of mortality, there are no words greater a curse than these.`*

***```fix
ａｎｄ ｌｉｖｅ， ｕｎｔｏ ｅｔｅｒｎｉｔｙ．```***

As the Guardian stood motionlessly before them, the horn-like growths of the parasitic root, bolstered in vitality, as though they were ready to sprout into newness of life, are choked of their azure blue glow. In its place, a dim light of orange surfaced. That orange light grew and grew, overtaking the azure, forming itself into intricate workings of magical runework that bound and desecrated the faint traces of *`lucidity`* That the Thorn-Crown attained.

*`The decree is made, and so I—`*
*`I lose sight and memory of that flame, and I—`*
*`I see an orange light, and I—`*
*`I recall my duty, that which was imparted unto me so many years ago.`*

***```asciidoc
[ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. ]```***

*`And I come to terms—`*
*`that this dream has ended.`*

```diff
- "𝒜𝒽..."```

A voice, most gentle, rises from the mouth of the monstrous beast that stood before them.
It was as one who had just woken from a deep slumber — well-mannered, and yet unknowing of the world around oneself.
_ _

```diff
- "𝙰𝚑..."
- "𝐀𝐡....."
- "𝑨𝒉.....𝒉𝒉𝒉..."```

```diff
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 Ｔｈｅｒｅ　ｉｓ　ｎｏ　ｄｅｌｉｖｅｒａｎｃｅ　ｆｒｏｍ　ｔｈｉｓ　ｈｅｌｌ．𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -
- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -```

***The beast let out a most revolting scream, chilling to the very core.***
Its voice was loud enough to pierce the ears at a closer distance, its scream howling throughout the entirety of the Exile's Watch — a *Scream,* Not a *Battlecry.* 
In this moment, it felt nothing but pain.

The dead roots that twist about its head contort and twist, shifting about and around its jaws, clamping them sealed, tight. Its voice swelled from within, yet soon died out, denying it the chance to make known its tribulation.

The orange, runic glow that bound the roots begins to glitter alight, and the beast clasps its sword tight, in each of its two, gnarled hands. Its eyes, having long been plucked from its head, granted it no sense of sight. Its ears, blocked and overrun with the dead, runebound root that parasitically ravished its body, granted it no sense of sound. Its nostrils, amalgamated with the dying tendrils of the root, granted it no sense of smell. Its maw now sealed tight, and its tongue clasped tight to the roof of its mouth, granted it no sense of taste. Its mind, overran with the ceaseless desecration of the all-corrupting root, would grant it no *Thought.* All that was left was its sense of *Touch,* Horrifically overran with the sensation of *Pain,* Its flesh, skin, and nerves twisted and contorted by the growth of the root throughout its body.

*And still, above all else, that duty shined through.*
_ _