Further [open]

The wicken was enraged. A thousand beats seemed to strike them a second, as quickly as it could conjure its strength, its massive, bony limbs. It stopped, however. With the staff raised, it paused as its back engulfed into flames. But... it didn't react. It turned, its hunched form smoothly weaving around, and its eyes... its dark eyes locked on Ansley. The wicken's back screamed with the rage of a worsening fire. It crackled over its coat, spreading.

So why didn't its HP decline?

The green bar that had appeared above its head didn't waver.

"My house," it whispered, the fire spreading to its skin, over its mask. "My home."

The HP bar finally moved. It was almost invisible, the amount of health that declined. Magic resistance was spelled out in gray under it, ticking over and over again.

Olive watched with amazement - and maybe a trace of envy (why couldn't she do that huh?) - as Ansley's fireball crashed into the Wicken but, despite their hope, it did nothing but scratch the surface of its still full HP bar. The mage gritted her teeth. Behind her Wolfgang hadn't shown any signs of getting up, and she began feeling nervous for the guy's health. She didn't have time to check, for as the creature had finally taken its eyes off of her, she used those moments of its attention being locked on Ansley to swing her quarterstaff across the Wicken's head, baseball style, the amount of force making her stagger slightly. "Wolfgang, you oughta wake up and lend a hand!" she called out as she stared at the Wicken, panting.

Ansley stared at the grey words under the Wicken's HP bar. Shit. So much for being able to kill it. Her spellbook itself probably wouldn't make an effective weapon, and she didn't have any other way to harm it. Before Ansley could begin casting another spell to at least keep the Wicken's attention, Olive capitalized on the distraction her fireball had served to create and struck it. Rather than cast more ineffective magic on the creature, Ansley ran over to Wolfgang, starting to try to help him to his feet. Hopefully he was still conscious; fleeing the Wicken wouldn't be easy if she had to carry him.

Wolfgang knew he heard Olive. Perhaps his perception was playing with him, or the blur in his vision was too severe, because before he could even react to that, he was being brought to his feet by Ansley. His head pulsed with his heart and the reek of nausea wafted through him. He felt vile. His mouth tasted of copper and dirt.

"Am I alive...?" He wasn't even sure he said it. There was a dense ringing in his ears, or rather, a beeping, directed from his UI. He didn't remember opening it...

The wicken kneeled down with pain as its head was struck. Wood scattered from the back of its head to the floor, a clear, fleshy indent in the side of its skull. It took a minute to regain itself, muttering and whispering incoherently. The only word that seemed to embolden itself: home, home home.

Olive's face spread into a satisfied grin as the Wicken collapse to the ground, regaining itself after quite a brutal hit. She heard the chocked voice of Wolfgang, and she could feel the pain he must have been going through within his words. The ringing of his UI fiddled with her focus, reminding her of what could be if the Wicken managed to get its bony hands on her. How much she was impressed by her skill, the mage didn't think Ansley could manage on her own with two people to carry. Without losing time and not allowing the creature to rest any further, the girl blasted a second hit, just like the first one, in the proximity of the crack that had just spidered from the hit before.

"We're surrounded by forest. Something tells me this thing will have an advantage on us the moment we step within trees." she called to them as her staff made contact with the wooden skull of the Wicken, spreading splinters around.

Ansley let out a sigh of relief as Wolfgang stood up with her help, as opposed to just being limp. Although, the beeping coming from him was worrying. At least the poor guy was still conscious. Ansley looked over at Olive, who was continuing to bash the living shit out of the Wicken. She made a good point about avoiding the trees, but if they didn't run, they'd need to stay and try and kill the Wicken, or at the very least, force it to flee. Hoping Wolfgang would be able to stand on his own, Ansley took up her spellbook, and again the pages began to turn on their own. However, this times the sigils that appeared were a pale green, and a moment later air was slashing not at the Wicken, but its staff.

Wolfgang's legs seemed to come back to him with each second, the ringing in his head dying with the pumping of his heart. Shit, the thing was down, but not for long. Without thinking, he grabbed Ansley's hand, and shouted to Olive, calling for only as long as he could afford before bolting into the trees, towards the rocks.

"Get to the courtyard, it's a safe zone!"

The wicken suddenly found Olive's wrist as she continued to bring down the staff. Its fingers crept inspectingly around her arm, the creature still kneeled, too paralyzed by the blows to do anything else with its body. The binding, however, was enough to keep her for a brief period of time. Vines began to protrude from the ground below Olive's feet, small at first but ever-growing, weaving their way towards her ankles, her legs.

Olive screamed, louder than any scream she had ever managed in her life. Her body went cold and sweat piled on her palms and forehead. The vines curled tight around her anckles and soon found themselves holding onto her knees like quicksand, holding her into place. She heard Wolfgang's directions and struggled with the fear that the two might leave her behind to deal with the threat herself. If only the boy would've lent a hand himslef, maybe the fight would've been easier. The mage tried to shake the bony hand of the Wicken off her wrist, but as she saw it hold on vigurously, the girl took the staff in her other hand and smacked it across her enemy's arm, hitting its weak joint. With a look of satisfaction, she saw the articulations collapse and the weak stick-like arm broke in half, giving her the opportunity to wrench herself backwards off her feet and hope the momentum would make the Wicken let go of her feet too. It was a crazy wish and maybe far fetched, but this entire fight had given her food for thought over her combat skills.