3169/Woodvale Trial: Unspoiled

Woodvale Trial: Unspoiled
Date of Scene:	07 October 2015
Location:	Paragon City <CoH>
Synopsis:	Monsters march upon Woodvale lake... With the intention to flood the zone!
Cast of Characters:	300, 560, 769, 821, 872, 885

---

Demetrios Vasilikos (769) has posed:
    Shirou and Archer were both here recently, when they were tracking down and stopping Crey looters. Now, whoever responds to the distress call finds the problem is quite different. Rather than enemies being in the area who need to be stopped, it's the area itself that needs to be protected. A plateau above some cliffs in the north-west of Woodvale have a man-made lake that practically resembles the ocean to the north... And an army of plant-like Devouring Earth are surging across the expanse of fields and hills from somewhere to the south.

    WHY they have such a hatred for humans may not be known, nor the Devouring Earth's origins... But the lake is probably their target. And if they destroy it, it could flood half the zone of Woodvale. Maybe more. Whatever their reasons may be, they have made no secret of their desire to kill humans and tear down all of human civilization.

    Stopping the monsters before they get here, would be best, but as long as they are kept from reaching the lake, it should be fine... Right?

Hive Monsters (885) has posed:
    Swaying legions of green, like trees with arms and legs, lay stretched out as far as the eye can see to the south. Any heroes in the area, especially those who look down from the plateau, should be able to spot even in the dying light of day that there are probably hundreds if not thousands of Bladegrass, Razorvines, Blackroses, and Deathblossoms. Some stay in place, some advance... But there's plenty of enemies to go around either way. It's just that, right now, they are advancing in small groups of one to three. But multiple groups of one to three breaking away from the forward ranks across several miles of such enemies.

    And somewhere behind them, another power looms, preparing to lead them.

Archer (821) has posed:
     Of course it was never over. If anything, it was inevitable that this conflict would continue to escalate.

    After all... what else could mankind's most hated enemy be then the earth itself? They warred with it, fought it at every turn for access to it's resources, heedless of the consequence in many cases.

    In a way, it did not seem like there was any real point to trying to save them from their own mistakes... but then again, it was not as though he had a choice.

    Besides... not all of them were complicit.

     Looking up at the the top of the plateau, it is possible that some of the Devouring Earth may spot a speck of red amid the backdrop.

    That sight would be all they they get of their attacker as several gleaming missiles begin to pour down on them, each one vaguely reminiscent of a sword... albeit twisted and warped into a narrower length, piercing the air in a hailstorm of tempered steel and iron. Many of them glow with an unnatural light, varying hews of blues, reds and golds.

    He didn't overcharge any of the dozen or so he fired... but even then, the effects of Noble Phantasms, fired as disposable bullets, were still potent enough that they ought to do the job.

    Rin had stayed in the city - trying to coordinate some form of effort to keep things calm and, if necessary, organize an evacuation in case they failed. Besides, with such a massive opposition force, they could not afford to divide Rin's prana between the two of them.

    To that end, it was here that Archer would help make a stand against the Devouring Earth, keeping them at bay for either as long as possible, or until they broke off their assault.

     Of course, the sheer numbers of enemies made that an insurmountable task... but he was hardly a stranger to impossible odds.

     Of course, the issue was that they were, apparently, sending out simple scouting groups to test their firepower before advancing the main force - or at least that was the only tactical reason Archer could think of for their actions.

     He would have to thin their numbers out preemptively then.

    In a brilliant flash of prana, the altered spiral sword appeared in his hands, the drawstring on the black bow drawn taunt as Archer knocked back the weapon while it's form warped further during it's transition from a blade to an arrow.

     /"I am the bone of my sword."/

    Energy flared around him as it began to collect into his shot, the feel of the raw energy pulsating into the warped image of the Ulster-Cycle's blade... but he would need time to charge it to it's full potential. For that, he had to rely on the others to keep them back.

    hopefully they could do just that.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    The knight in Red is not the only one who's decided that playing the game the Devouring Earth are going for is hardly the best path. Shirou's prana supply is only a small fraction of his Heroic counterpart. He cannot face thousands upon thousands of Devouring Earth monsters. In melee, they'll wear him down, tear him apart through sheer numbers even if he can handle one or two just fine.

    But ranged combat means burning up his Prana supply considerably faster.

    So the answer is... use the equipment available to him to use less Prana!

    Armed with his projected black yumi (derived from Archer's bow, oddly enough), he's climbed one of the smaller rocky outcroppings himself for a vantage point at the distant enemies. Whenever a creature enters range he draws an arrow from a quiver sitting next to him. These are NOT normal arrows - they're made of composite materials and significantly tougher than they look. The tips shaped aerodynamically, but also hollow and made to shatter just after impact.

    "Trace; on!"

    Whenever some of the creatures pass nearby, Shirou readies an arrow and draws it back deftly, takes aim...

    Both the bow and arrow are reinforced to the limits, then let fly! His range far eclipses an ordinary bowman's, but it's far from the stunt Archer's attempting. Hundreds of meters, however, is PLENTY of room to snipe at approaching creatures.

    These arrows DETONATE after impact in a glorious eruption of perfectly blended reagents. FIRE is his real weapon of choice, and FIRE these things make in spades!

    Trouble is, he only has about thirty of them. Gonna have to make 'em count.

Shadowed Aesthetic (872) has posed:
    Well, that won't do.

    Shadowed Aesthetic of Quicksilver had returned to this place when reports of so many of those creatures from the last time came in. If there were more of those mushroom creatures, someone who both had some resistance to their poisons (well, the method of contamination, anyway; Alchemical Exalted didn't need to breathe except to speak) and had a weapon they seemed to be weak against, it seemed only fair he should go back and try to help.

    Of course, then he sees the sheer magnitude of the force that awaits them. A rather sarcastic voice in his mind wants him to start counting the surging masses of Devouring Earth, but that would be pointless, and so he of course refrains. Now is no time for sarcasm. Now is the time for murdering things. Specifically those Devouring Earth creatures.

    Shadowed Aesthetic is not made for direct confrontation, and that's pretty much exactly what this is. But he's also an Alchemical Exalted. He can fix this by puting in for the installation of a combat Charm or two in the Vats. But the requisitioning might take a while. And he'll need to ensure that he can survive THIS confrontation...

    The Mirrorblade has found himself a place up on one of the cliffs, watching the army amass down below. With all these creatures, he can't afford to miss. And unfortunately he doesn't have any means of long-range attack. Which means he's going to have to go melee.

    There's a sudden flare of blue-white Essence as Shadowed Aesthetic acticates several Charms one right after the other, and then his Discreet Essence Armor. It causes more than just a flare of power though. The Essence flaring around him begins to take odd shapes, twisting together in what looks remarkably like a Celtic knot -- the 'impossible knot' type, that looks like it should be going both over and under itself.

    And then he leaps off the cliff, fans in hand. He stretches his hands out to his sides and snaps the fans open... and his descent slows. Personal Gravity Manipulation Apparatus reducing his weight, the fans and his flowing robes are more than enough to slow his fall. But not arrest it completely. He lands in a roll, and as soon as he gets to his feet again he's slicing and turning, spinning and slashing with those bladed fans. Much like before, his body seems to blur as he moves, Essence expenditure already pushing his anima banner to iconic levels.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
"Okay. This... is a problem."

Stadler lowers the binoculers from his eyes... as if he needed them to see the large, large, /large/ mass of walking monstrosities coming toward their location. The squad that had managed to work it's way from east had only brought two tracks this route; a Bradley scout vehicle with enough room to transport the bulk of them, and a command track set up for communications. It was very clear to Stadler that he wasn't going to be able to fight this with ground forces; even if he did have a rapid response force capable of getting here in less than double digit hour values, the only way he'd be able to march them through to the point would have been air drops, and that would have been a blood bath. The terrian didn't favor armor at all, even if getting it through city streets like this and the various checkpoints around the city from the docks would have been remotely feasible. The only bright spots were some towed guns he managed to scourge up from some training facility up-state (That took a bit of hope and educated guess work), but they were having trouble setting up.

The Corporal kneeling next to him nodded once, and then held over a handset. "AH-6s are up in the air. Got good pictures of what's coming toward us." Stadler nodded, taking the handset from her hand and clicking the PTT button. "Delta Tango Flight, this is X-Ray 6 actual. Resources on our side to handle this are thin on the ground. Possibly air support and indirect fire in future, but you're all I have for the moment. Engage targets until out of ammunition or fuel, and-"

There's a pause as Stadler's hand goes to his other ear, and grimaces. "Delta Tango flight, change of plans. Engage everything that is /not/ near the glowing sun-like flare in the middle of that mass. That is not, I repeat, /not/ a target marker." Finger off the button. "Yet." Finger on the button. "Do not risk craft if at all possible. You're worth more than we are down here."

The distant buzzing of helicopters above the mass of writhing plant life gets louder a /lot/ quicker than one would expect, as the two Little Bird helicopters, small two-seater aircraft that are lightly armed, sweep around from the Serpentine to the east. Avoiding that large bright flare up was rather hard for people of their training, but, given how saturated with targets the ground was, it didn't end up being difficult. Miniguns briefly spin up before sending 7.62 millimeter NATO down range at thousands of rounds per minute. It was enough to slice down larger and stronger trees... of a normal variety. These walking flora weren't normal, but surely they'd feel /some/ effect.

Hive Monsters (885) has posed:
    Explosions from Noble Phantasms and grenade arrows fired into the midst of the enemies eliminate their scouting parties one group at a time, and Shadowed Aesthetic rushing in to dice up any who get through likewise prevents any from reaching the cliffs. There are many more beyond, just standing there... Swaying... Swaying... Like trees in the wind. Almost peaceful, and at the same time also creepy. Then groups break away, their hostile intent becoming clear when they make the move to attack.

    As the Alchemical has to face more and more enemies however, he receives support in the form of rapid gunfire raining down on the Devouring Earth monsters. They have thus far only responded with wooden claws sharper than any bramble and thrown thorns big enough to impale a human being.

    But when the small groups turn into medium-sized groups of 4 to 6 and the rate of their breaking away from the main mass of their forces quickens, it becomes clear that either the pressure being put on by the blades, bullets, and explosives that cut through their forces is causing them to up their pace or that they are feeling less cautious about their enemies, and are willing to engage more fully.

    Or maybe the presence of humans in the area simply enrages them that much.

    Shooting and slicing faster is necessary now, and there's a very long line of these things from which the groups are coming, making getting to all of them before they reach the cliffs more difficult. At least for now, the good guys seem to be keeping up...

Archer (821) has posed:
    At last, the arrow charges - between the efforts of the newcomer facing the creatures in the near-suicidal range of melee combat and what seemed to be squads of reinforcing soldiers on helicopters no less, to further cut down the ranks.

    Were they local military? No - the local military, or whatever analog of it existed in Paragon City - would be either barricading or evacuating Woodvale. These had to be more reinforcements from a Union Elite with considerable pull in his world's military - something that somewhat impressed Archer, given how short-notice this defense effectively was.

    So in essence, it meant that they had all the bases covered - the melee fighter was cutting down their frontal lines, the solider groups were the supports that provided air and intel support. The boy would be their sniper, picking off the stragglers and scout groups.

    And, at the moment... bombardment support would fall to Archer, as the arrow within his hands 'broke' from the immense inflow of prana seeping throughout it's strained form.

     "/Caladbolg!/"

    The next instant, the arrow flies forth, distorting the atmosphere as it passes by, aimed straight for the larger masses of Devouring Earth in the back to break their stride.

    Upon impact... the arrow transitions from a bullet of energy into a massive, rippling explosion, the flaming mass of expelled and expanding power tearing upwards as if the plains above had detonated a warhead without any of the actual radiation-based effects or drawbacks.

    Archer is already tracing more arrows - he can't afford to, lest the increasingly-frequent swarms of Devouring Earth break through their lines and begin to scale the plateaus.

    As a result though, he cannot take the time to charge his arrows to their breaking point unless absolutely necessary - such as if the larger creatures approach - the situation requiring he focus on the quantity of impacts as opposed to the quality of their detonations.

    Nothing that couldn't take out many of the smaller creatures... but the larger ones would be a bigger problem. Especially if they were anything like the monstrosity Archer had briefly encountered at the Portal HQ's ruins.

    Not that it was the only thing on his mind - his younger counterpart's mentions of a 'sister' to Illya named 'Chloe', who not only looked like him but apparently shared his powers and combat style as him.

    The implications of this were widely varying... some of which being options Archer did not want to believe could be possible.

    But they would come latter. For now... they had an increasingly angry tide of creatures to stem... and they were getting closer.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    Well isn't this just a hell of a development.

    THAT GUY is now a member of Dun Realtai.

    A chunk of Shirou's soul twitches, but he can't really be said to be against it despite that little twitch. It's jsut enought o make him miss a beat. In a few seconds his Rhythm is restored and arrows keep flying!

    But he's down to ten arrows left in no time at all, at the rate these things are coming...

    "That guy, he'd better take care of this!"

    Yeah, this time he's ROOTING for Archer, believe it or not.

    BUT the instant that Noble Phantasm goes flying---

    *KSSSSSSSSSHT-THUMP*

    It's like a spear just went through his head. It happens far too often whenever he sees Archer in action nearby. The same thing happened with Chloe, albeit lesser...

    Still, he's forced to shield his face from the wind and dust such an explosion kicks up. "Sheesh--"

    He grabs his third to last arrow and launches it at some of the approaching groups...

Shadowed Aesthetic (872) has posed:
    The helicopters are actually the most familiar thing in this area, to Shadowed Aesthetic. He's a visible enough target that, with the warning over the radio, Stadler's forces aren't likely to hit him unless they're trying to. Hopefully they won't be, with said warning. However, he moves to take swift advantage of the gunfire, leaping in behind it and trying cut down what of the Devouring Earth he can, before more enermies start to fill in the gaps.

    Archer's arrow comes in like a bolt from the blue. And Shadowed Aesthetic sees it coming in. It takes his augmented sight but a moment to visualize its projected flight path. Not an immediate danger. He is not, however, prepared for that explosion. Still, with the sheer amount of enemies that are here, with Archer having aimed for their center and Shadowed Aesthetic clashing with the creatures' front lines, it's not enough to knock the Alchemical off his feet. Particularly since he'd deactivated the weight-decreasing effect of Personal Gravity Manipulation Apparatus.

    It is however MOST DEFINITELY enough to feel! And enough to startle him, forcing him to leap back. Though it doesn't take him long to see that he's not in any actual danger from the explosion of the arrow. Impressive shot, that. Would be useful if Shadowed Aesthetic could learn how it's done. But it's neither here nor there at the moment. He turns the momentum into a forward lunge, back into the fray, avoiding Shirou's arrows.

    The Mirrorblade is fast, yes. But there is, unfortunately, a limit to how fast Shadowed Aesthetic can move. And those extra few motes for a boost in his nimbleness only helps so much. Besides that, he's no Soulsteel or Jade Caste -- he's not exactly fit for a protracted battle. He's built for speed, quickness, and cutting through an obstacle in the most efficient way possible. He's rapidly using up his strength to fight. Soon enough he's going to have to get clear, or risk being taken apart.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Stadler watches as the gunships swoop, strafe, and hover at various times to cut down swaths of the creatures over and over again. The problem was there's only so much ammunition on those light attack helicopters, and they weren't as accurate as other, more stable weapon's platforms might be. They're still trying their best, but more and more time is spent burning fuel to attack groups straggling to the front, sweeping back and fourth and unable to stem the tide heading toward them.

Which is why the arrow coming in is something of a blessing (mostly becuause it strikes in the main group when the choppers are rushing to the front. The blast wave kicks them around a moment, and causes the small detachment of soldiers to flinch and cover faces with hands and arms aganist a hot wind coated in dust. When it fades down, Stadler's coughing, slightly, looking at the devastation. "There are times I wonder why we go out here these days. Bleeding out when one person can do that. "He mutters, before whistling to the troops on the ground. "We're not going to get all of those bastards moving forward. Postion the two tracks up on this point... here. KT29 GT18. The small inclination. Gives us a good field of fire to winnow them down. Not that it's needed, but aircraft are on their way. Hold out for a little longer and the Air Force is going to save our asses."

The two vehicles start up in a thrum of diesel engines, driving forward to occupy the space Stadler's pointed out. The command track is armed except for a few firing slits, but it does make a decent armored box for whe those things get closer... God forbid. The Bradley, however, has an option, as the 25 millimeter Bushmaster swivels and langes out with explosive chaingun rounds, the tracer placed in every fifth spot on the belt showing a burst of fire that might ignite wood if there's a direct hit. The enemy's weren't too close, yet, and hopefully the helicopters would keep too many of them from getting into rifle range.

Hopefully.

Hive Monsters (885) has posed:
    Archer's explosive arrow goes off deep in the ranks, thinning the center mass admist light and flame. Shirou's grenade arrow takes down one of the approaching groups, or at least reduces the number of foes within it, while Shadowed Aesthetic takes down the remainder and wears down or eliminates the other groups approaching. The heavy gunfire likewise does its part to mow down the walking vegetation on its advance, and set some ablaze (they don't appear to be very fond of fire), as these medium-sized groups start to get closer and closer to their targets before they are stopped in their tracks by the determined defenders.

    Far back, near the rear of the group, the land HEAVES suddenly and an enormous wooden arm rises up out of the Earth as though it were merely water. The leafy, woven vines in the shape of a human appendage pull the rest of the body up onto the land...

    It's like an even larger version of the already-taller-than-any-normal-human creatures all around. A giant at least twenty feet tall or more, that orients on the plateau despite having no discernible head or sensory organs of any kind, and roars with the sound of snapping wood. It makes the sound of tree roots growing to shatter stone and destroy a building's foundation over the ages, but sped up to occur in mere moments.

    That's persistent, slow, terrible strength that plants can demonstrate, put into a creature that can exert it all at once, as quickly as any human.

    Thorn begins to advance, shaking the ground beneath every twisted, wooden footfall, and the medium groups of 4 to 6 become large groups of 8 to 15. Seconds pass now before a new group runs forth. Many of them are not even trying to engage Shadowed Aesthetic any more, and are just rushing straight into the devastating weapons fire slamming into them, relying on their numbers and inhuman forms to get closer and closer... Until finally... Some of them reach the cliffs and begin to claw their way upwards. Only a few of the 13-foot tall monsters right now, but many more are soon to follow.

    And there's that Monster leading them!

    Despite the great powers, fighting skill, and advanced weaponry being put to use, the overall numbers of the enemy have not been sufficiently reduced... There must be some way to put a stop to all this!

Demetrios Vasilikos (769) has posed:
    Just then, a radio transmission comes through to those with the means to receive it. It's Dr. Faith Maccabe! "I'm observing your situation. It doesn't look good," she starts, rather unencouragingly. "However, I may have an idea that could salvage the situation. The Devouring Earth are likely trying to breach the artificial lake to the north. While releasing all of that water at once would be devastating, a smaller release could produce a wave to wash away or at least impair the enemy, and might remove their reason for attacking as well. If anyone can destroy the terrain to the south of the lake, and let the water rush out in a more controlled manner, you might have a better chance!"

Archer (821) has posed:
    Seeing the state things, Archer can't help but feel some concern.

    The one engaging at close range obviously cannot sustain this attack, lest he be eventually worn down and slaughtered, and the reinforcing army was ill-eqquipped to handle an opposing force this size - even with Caladbolg, they were still too numerous.

    And then the immense creature, similar and yet dissimilar to the one he had met before, rose from the earth, and Archer knew that in terms of conventional warfare, the battle was lost. Even if he summoned forth Unlimited Blade Works, he could not contain them all.

     ... however, that is when the doctor - Maccabe, if he remembered correctly - told them of her plan. And in doing so, offered a ray of salvation that was rare to see in times like this - one they couldn't afford to make light of.

    He could have done it. He could easily have made the shot needed to create a controlled flood. But with one of their company having been forced into pulling back, Archer could not afford to split his focus - he needed to keep the approaching enemies back along with the soldiers....

    Thankfully... loath as he was to admit it... there was someone else who could mirror his ability to make the shot needed... and based on what what he had remembered from the boy's world, he might have actually had the tool that could do so.

    As a result... Archer sighs to himself in what could only be called exasperation... and maybe a slight ironic undertone. "Good grief... to think I must actually place faith in you of all people, Emiya Shirou."

     Giving a short, almost resigned sigh, Archer.... "Trace; On."

    In the meantime, Archer devoted himself wholeheartedly toward stemming the angry tide in order to buy time - an all-too-familiar situation - as he traced and fired well over a dozen Noble Phantasms of different make in consecutive order - among them being Durandall, Clarent and Caladbolg - in order to limit and weaken the many hoards of creatures. Of course, firing each shot in succession like this would begin to tax him... but he had to buy time for the others to set up their own counteroffensives.

    If that immense creature got too close... Archer realized he may have to use Unlimited Blade Works itself to try and drag the beast out of the immediate fight, isolating and then weakening it as much as he could before it broke through the Reality Marble, with killing it outright being the optimal yet unlikely-to-achive goal.

    It was hardly a sound plan, nor even a truly practical one... but as Archer proceeded to give as much covering fire as he could from his position, he knew all too well that they had little choice in the matter.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    In truth, Shirou's not really sure how Archer expects him to make this shot. Oh, accuracy-wise, he's sure he can hit ANYTHING in his sight range, even if it makes no sense. But can he hit with enough power to crack open a path to drain the lake? Big enough to sweep away the Devouring Earth, but small enough to not flood EVERYTHING ELSE?

    Shirou hesitates. But then with THINGS climbing up to his position he has little more time to waste thinking about it.

    This had better work. This had REALLY better work.

    The bow is brought up again with firm resolve and Shirou extends a hand, roughly gripping at the air. Crimson light flares brightly from his fingers and stretches out into a wildly.

    He ALMOST LOATHES that he had the same idea as Archer. But what must be done, must be done.

    But with the Counter Guardian going all out, the Moonsilver Exalt wreaking havoc, and a chopper full of brave soldiers doing all they can to save a troubled city, he really can't be picky.

    The power starts congealing and flickering, forming a ghostly and shimmery outline of a sword. It flickers and fills out in no time at all into.... well, maybe 'sword' is too generous a category. It's a long thin piece of black metal, but hrunting doesn't really looking like a weapon one should wield with their hands. A twisted, tapering lump of metal with a central spine, a sharp grip, and wicked barbs encircling the blade, its black length is not at all what one expects from a sword of legend.

    The weapon's still glowing as Shirou raises it and brings it down, drawing it back on his bow 'kyudo' style - very different from Archer's western shooting method.

    A difference of not just technique, but underlying philosophy.

    The blade's form twists and thins somewhat, those barbs twisting down further and more tightly.

    Then... "Come on...!" POWER flows into Shirou's body, bow, and weapon all at once! Hrunting glows vividly with an ominous crimson glare. Shirou holds the shot, waiting until the exact right moment... even as his arm muscles scream at the inhuman force they're under in just keeping the bow DRAWN.

    His target... the distant cliffs, nearer the top where he spots a place where the rock's a little thinner.

    "PIERCE IT! HRUNTING!"

    With a thunderous WHOOOOOOSH, the arrow is released! Hrunting hits speeds far exceeding a normal arrow, streaking through the air like a crimson meteor.

    Will it be enough?!

    It better be. Shirou's not got the prana for a second attempt. And, topping it off, the shot was enough that-- "Wuagh!"

    The strange wake of the shot actually knocks him backwards, arm wrenched around and throwing him to the ground. But he keeps an eye on that target, confident in that shot.

    Everything's counting on that shot. It HAS to work.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
All right. This was getting better. Manageable. They would be able to deal with this if they could keep the level at this pace. It was a holding action, true, but one they could conduct with the weapons they had until reinforcement's arrived. Things would eventually skew in their favor... oh, things were just moving /too/ well for there not to be a complication. Like... that large thing that rises from the ground in the rear of the unit. Slowly getting larger and larger, and looking toward them with eyes of pure hate and malice. Thumping across the ground just as the miniguns on the helicopers start to run dry and the Bushmaster runs hot. "Oh, of course." Rick says, grabbing the rifle from where it's leaning aganist a wall, pulling the charging handle, and rushing toward the edge of the cliff, pointing the rifle down range and pulling the trigger as the creatures get close and closer, in groups that were incresingly difficult to shrug off. "Get over here!" He yells, whistling to the scouts that had come with him, as rifle fire pours toward the incoming targets. "I need-" he starts, as Emiya's shot zooms forward, heading for the cliff face. A loud whistle and a device is tossed up to the front, laser activating just as the roaring sound of jets are heard. "Radio!" Handset slapped into his hand. "Rockwell flight, X-Ray 6-One Actual; change of ordance to be deployed! 500 pound ground penetrating warheads on the designation! Place them right on top of that damned creature!"

The Strike Eagles aren't there for long. They don't need to be with the weaponry they're carrying. The cluster bomb units they drop in their wake, meant to be the main thrust of the strike, are now poorly aimed and only take up parts of the enemy formation they were meant to with the crackle of grenade sized firecrackers on the ground, an afterthought after they make their main attack. They'd hopefully make up for it with the release of the small bombs they carried at their wingtips, the guided free fall units angled by fins and desginators toward the large creature that, even a few miles off, could be pointed at with a designator and hoped for the best. The bombs that they were sending out to it were meant to penetrate bunkers. As it stands, they would slam down on wood, shattering it like a quarter of refridgerators being through from a trebuchet before desontating in focused examples of carnage.

Shadowed Aesthetic (872) has posed:
    Shadowed Aesthetic tries to catch those enemies running past him. It's not easy, because there are enemies that ARE engaging him in combat. And between the chaos of battle, that he's beginning to flag, and their sheer numbers they're scoring more reliable strikes on him now, even through his armor and past all his dodging. His opalescent skin darkens as if bruised where blunt strikes made contact; rivulets of an oily, slightly glowing liquid run from places where piercing or slashing damage has occurred.

    And then that voice on the radio, offering hope to what's beginning to look more and more like a hopeless situation. These things are after the lake, so drain it. But in a more controlled manner than the creatures would have done. Drain it to the south, where the enemies are coming from. Not only would that eliminate the source of their frustrations, it might take out a sizeable chunk of the enemies in the process.

    Now there's just one problem. Shadowed Aesthetic doesn't have any way to do that. But the others here do. So that leaves his course of action pretty clear. Keep the creatures from getting up the cliff as best as he can. "I'll try to keep as many from getting up there as I can," he says into the radio. And then he adds, in a near-trill, "But don't take too long~."

    That decided he breaks off from the creatures he was fighting and heads for those that are trying to make it up the cliff. He's able to jump pretty high, so even when they start climbing, he should be able to prevent them from making too much progress up. Besides that, if they're using their limbs to climb, not only are said limbs engaged and unable to strike at him (or so he hopes), but their backs are to him and they're hopefully unable to see or dodge when he leaps to attack them.

    Shirou's arrow, and Richard's bombs, streak through the air, the arrow towards the wall holding back the lake and the bombs towards the giant creature. Shadowed Aesthetic isn't going to wait and see if it works. That's going to be a lot of water, and he doesn't want to chance getting further injured. So he makes a leap at the cliff wall, and twists, then lands on the cliff as if it were the ground. And then he leans forward and RUNS as fast as he can, right up the cliff. His focus now is getting out of the way of the waves of water he figures is about to come cascading down, and getting to higher ground.

Demetrios Vasilikos (769) has posed:
    The arrow from Shirou pierces the earth and the underground retainer wall, and all the layers of sand, and so on that were set up to make this plateau into an artificial beach upon an artificial lake. There are several moments where nothing seems to happen except for a faint groaning sound. But the gradually increasing sound of rushing water precedes the cliffs facing the Devouring Earth enemies shattering and a rushing tide of water spilling forth! The plateau shakes and rumbles, fissures forming that water soon rushes to fill.

    The missiles from Richard's buddies further disrupt the the terrain, making it wholly unlevel, large chunks just DROPPING sickeningly like the floor falling out form underneath anyone still up there (like poor Shirou, for instance, but he is pretty fit so maybe he can get away in time). The rocky pillars and outcroppings collapse under the strain as they are split across different elevations of crumbling earth and flooding plains, sending boulders tumbling along the many new cliffs and ledges. Raging rivers form right before the eyes of the heroes as huge volumes of water pour out and into the hills and fields. Anything that wasn't sliced up by Shadowed isn't on the cliffs anymore. Because there are no more cliffs.

    The water will continue pouring out for quite some time before the broken terrain crumbles enough to turn into a very loose rockslide-like dam. The chunks of concrete and reinforcement that made the lake what it was are either swept away in the rush or buried deep, hiding human influence.

Hive Monsters (885) has posed:
    The creatures are bombarded with Noble Phantasms, being torn apart, incinerated, or thrown through the air to land on their fellows. Thorn continues to advance heedlessly, unconcerned with the deaths of the Minions, just as it would be unconcerned with its own death. It is not mindless. None of them are TRULY just mindless constructs. But they are not people either. They are not 'selves'. Just extensions of one great, god-like being. Outlets for the power of the Hamidon.

    Thus, the bombardment it takes that tears apart the ground around and inbetween it and the cliffs to the north, whle it drops the monster to a half-crouch, bent beneath the forces being unleashed upon it, stands back up quickly as the lesser creatures around it do not. The Minions are shredded, torn apart, burning, buried in the craters and churned earth resulting from the bombing.

    Thorn stands and hurls a giant thorn as hard as petrified wood and as large as a mighty oak tree after its flying attackers, regardless of whether it can actually hit them or not. Its body shows signs of tears in the woven vines, parts of it smolder, but the vegetation that comprises it is wound so tight it might as well be steel cables instead of plant matter.

    This is not an enemy that can easily be defeated, even for a group of Elites, though they likely could manage it eventually if they could focus solely on this foe. Unfortunately, there are too many enemies to focus on just this one...

    But then, Dr. Maccabe's plan is enacted, thanks to Shadowed Aesthetic keeping any enemies from scaling the cliffs to get to Shirou, utilizing speed, skill, and deadly slashes.

    Archer keeps the ranks that now rush all at once, hundreds of enemies charging all at once, from overwhelming them, by tearing through them before they can come close.

    Stadler's bombing distracts and weakens the leader, keeping it from giving organized commands or aiming its wrath northwards in its hatred of humans and their machines.

    And Shirou fires right into the ground, and penetrates.

    Soon enough, a rush of water comes spilling forth to sweep the nearest enemies away, and then the ones not-so-near, and the ones beyond that. By the time the water loses momentum, miles from the origin point, much of the area immediately comprising the north-west of Woodvale is flooded. But little of it should reach Woodvale itself, if any. There's a lot of other terrain between here and there, and the monsters are being swept back the way they came.

    Thorn roars once more, unable to either defeat its attackers, or to progress towards its original goal. Damaged, and with its objective removed from its grasp... It spends long moments gazing eyelessly, the waves of hatred resonating from it nearly palpable, before it turns at some unseen command, and begins heading south.

    Why always to and from the south? What's over there? Portal Corp HQ was destroyed... They aren't coming from there...

    ...So where ARE they coming from? As the fields are turned into flood plains, and the plateau into a series of streams and waterfalls, the answer, at least for now, will have to remain elusive.

Archer (821) has posed:
    At last... after what feels like close to an hour of sustained firing against the stampeding forces, the tides turn back in their favor - with a literal tide of their own.

    As the single elite who was fighting before manages to scale the walls with an unusual ability to run up vertical surfaces, Archer also observes as Emiya Shirou's arrow flies for the lake's boundary, the light of Hurnting's flight serving as something of a last fleeting hope of turning this battle around even slightly.

     However, the bombs begin to splinter the plateaus - including the one the boy is atop of - and Archer bites back a curse as prana floods his legs, leaping from his perch and hopping from rock to collapsing rock in order to cross the distance quickly.

    And then the dam breaks, Hurnting piercing the ground and releasing the tides as the wall collapses perfectly, as if it were a tapestry with it's one connecting thread pulled lose. The water pours fourth, flooding the path of their opposition to wipe out most of the oncoming forces and sweep away those that are not killed or crushed to death by the force of the torrent.

     In spite of himself, Archer felt a trickle of relief flow in him at the sight though - the boy had actually done it.

     ... however, now Emiya Shirou was in danger of drowning as the outcropping collapsed. And, begrudging as he was to his past self, he couldn't just let the boy die - Rin would never let him hear the end of it... nor would Saber.

    Besides, ill-suited as they were, they were allies for the immediate future.

     Reaching the collapsing plateau in time to grab the boy by the back of his shirt-collar and leap to safety, hopping across the fragmenting rocks as whatever wasn't shattered in the bombing is swept away by the flooding - even though he still had trouble believing the boy had succeeded.

    But he couldn't deny the results.

    In the distance, immense form of the wooden creature stops coming for them. The bombs that pelted it, combined with the impact of the immense wave of water released rom the dam, had clearly injured it.

     It wouldn't be enough to kill it, though... but between the bombings and the flooding, it seemed to be enough to discourage it.

     Letting out a sigh that expelled the tension of the battle, Archer wondered how much further this would go before it came to a headway... and as he pondered this thought, regarded Emiya Shirou bemusedly as the boy dusted himself off, the Red Knight crossing his arms and smirking dryly. "Geez... to think I had to take the time to rescue you. How do you expect to be the hero you claim to be if others must rescue you?"

    It was true that the boy had actually saved them this time... but that didn't mean Archer had any intent of acknowledging him as such. Not in the face of his many flaws.

    Of course, he dreaded what Rin would say if, or when, she found out he had relied on the boy to save them... because he knew she'd never let him live it down.

Shadowed Aesthetic (872) has posed:
    Shadowed Aesthetic is not safe just because he's above the water, he soon realizes. Things are collapsing and being washed away by the tide of water. He too starts leaping for a safer place to stand. Or, as is the case when he finally finds a solid area to stand on that isn't about to be washed away, a safer place to collapse!

    He does have the grace to wait until Shirou and Archer are safe. But then he sort of slides to the ground, sitting down hard. Way too much sustained combat. At least he doesn't pant, that would be horribly undignified! As he slides to the ground, the image of the impossible knot twirling and twisting around him, an image that had been there in his aura since the beginning of battle, disappears. He continues to glow brightly, however.

    "...Maker," he mutters. "I'm going to have to requisition the installation of combat Charms if this keeps up. There's only so much I can do with war fans." Nonetheless though, he looks up at the aircraft carrying Stadler and his men, and offers a thumbsup -- a gesture he's learned since coming to the Multiverse. He offers this as thanks, since he can't shout quite that far.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    It worked. Shirou's so astounded at this, after the fact - an unwitting breach, perhaps, of the archery philosophy he had just executed - that he stands there dumbly as bombs go off a bit too close for comfort and water starts rushing. Those crucial seconds are wasted through just GAPING. At least... until his perch starts to rumble. And crumble!

    Uh-oh. The awestruck boy's jaw clamps shut tightly, and brow furrows as panic starts to sink in. He glances left and right for a quick way down. Is his only way out safely going to be THAT THING?! Not that again! He nearly broke an arm last time...

    He's just about ready to do it though, when there's a rush of wind, a flash of red, and--

    "HWUAGH?!"

    YOOOOOOOOINK!

    OFF he goes, hoisted easily into the air by the crimson-clad Servant. "HEY! What are you doing grabbing me like that?!" Shirou barks indignantly, flailing for a moment - until he sees the rushing waters below. He shuts up fast then. "Geeze... what are you saying?! You feel that way but grabbed me anyways! You dolt! Sheesh, both you and Chloe are always acting so contrary!"

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
See, this was why Stadler was never comfortable at that giant tree the Union called home. They seemed like a collection of roots and branches, but if you really looked at it, it was probably a malevolent force snatching up humans to drain their blood. Just like the giant monster that was standing in front of them, holding back as the rest of it's kind died in job lots. Being part of the infantry sometimes meant just waiting to see what the actions you called in on the radio happen to do... while firing a rifle at the creatures that were getting ever closer. And that's what Rick and his people do. No time for a assessment of the damage they're doing to it. Not until Shirou's attack shatters the rock on the cliff, sending watter spraying out into the landscape, collapsed rock causing a complete change of the landscape, that artifical dam becoming nothing more than a half empty bowl.

Rick slowly lowers his weapon as the force retreats to the south, before just letting out a breath, and walking over to the command track, resting a hand on it. "Well... that wasn't such a chore, now, was it?"