Me: Also, my brain fed me a thing for Alexis
Friend: Ya
Me: It was pretty rad and centered around people's reinforced preconceived notion that Alexis *hates* magic.Ā So she makes a drinkable wish spell or a power word potion, using her in-depth study of magic and magical effects
Him: Neat
Me: Yes
Him: But why?
Me: Well there's a dragon
Me: A big dragon
Me: A big, fuck off, ancient, evil, red dragon
Him: That would do that
Me: Yeah.
Him: Making something magical is a bit outside her zone
Me: Well yeah if she were straight Tinkerer, which means yet another version of Alexis (thank you brain). Anyway, she made it a while ago, but she never used it, just kept recharging it 'in case of emergency'. Also the aftereffects of the potion are rough; HP, exhaustion, strength damage, etc.
Ā Ā And she managed to bully and cajole and rally a fighting force (or perhaps Vox Machina did that) against the dragon
Ā Ā But things are not going well
Ā Ā Because, well...dragon.
Ā Ā And the dragon knows that.
Him: Things donāt typically go well against a big, ancient, red dragon
Me: (No they do not). And heās laughing and mocking them and generally demoralizing them, further hampering their efforts.
Ā Ā And heās all,Ā āPathetic! You are ants! Kneel before me and I might spare you. You cannot defeat me, feeble nothings!ā
Ā Ā And in the middle of that is Alexis, whoās banged up and bleeding and almost out of tricks, ducked behind a building that hasnāt been knocked down yet, and looking out at what she can see of the battlefield that Emon has become. Leopold is laying strewn in small, metal pieces along the street, his parts almost indistinguishable from the rubble. Bruno is barely visible from where she is slumped against the cracked, unstable wall, his massive, metal plated form looking small - lying there in the street, his sword shattered, his shield rent. One arm is missing, revealing the soft, sinewy bark beneath, which has been scorched with dragonfire.
Ā Ā And she stares at him for a while as Thordak continues to monologue about his superiority. How weak they are compared to him. How they are finished.
Ā Ā She spits blood from her mouth, grits her teeth against the pain, and reaches into the third pocket of her toolbelt, hand disappearing past the wrist.
Ā Ā āYou think so, do you?ā
Ā Ā And she pulls out a small glass vial that shimmers with a pure, white light. She stares at it for a while and looks back at Brunoās corpse and shakes her head.Ā
Ā Ā Ā āSorry, mama,ā she says, before slamming it back like a shot of everclear.
Him: As the dragonās like, āOh shitā.
Him: Thatās pretty boss of her.
Me: And these veins of light pour down her throat (Oh, heās not even paying attention to her. Like, heās making a big show of being the boss of this fight, but he is taking damage, and itās not like Vox Machina is sippin Mimosas somewhere else), and up her face and into and out of her eyes
Him: And takes one level of Badass.
Me: And she steps out onto the shattered street, with this light pulsing through her veins, and it doesnāt look holy, and it doesnāt look cool, itās like every supernatural poisoned vein shot, complete with bile dripping from her mouth, only itās made of light. And she takes a few breaths and then yells,Ā āThordak!ā And her voice is magically amplified to the point where flames sputter away and whateverās left of glass windows shatter around her.Ā
Him: Thatās awesome, or it is in my head.
Me: His massive head turns at the sound of his name and he growls at this insignificant human standing defiantly in the rubble of the city heās conquered. She reeks of magic - powerful magic - even from this distance, and he will not allowĀ this. This city is his. His.Ā And he turns entirely away from the fight around him, lips pulling back, flame pouring from the sides of his mouth. And she just stands there as he barrels towards her, and just as he picks up speed, she says - not bothering to raise her voice
He seizes, eyes constricting in pain and surprise. His arms buckle, suddenly useless.
Him: Fucking epic
Me: He tries to flame, but he canāt breathe. He slams into the earth, rubble spewing in all directions as he writhes, tongue lolling from his mouth as his panicked, furious eye fixes on Alexis, who stands in the street - broken, bloodied, hideously glowing, and unmoving - blood trickling from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Glaring down this hideous, evil Wyrm, who expends its last breaths trying to claw its way to kill her.Ā
Ā Ā With one last surge of strength, he heaves forward with one massive claw
Ā Ā She doesnāt move.Ā
Ā Ā She doesnāt flinch.Ā
Ā Ā Only watches as this massive claw slam into the broken cobbled street eight feet away.Ā
Ā Ā The earth shudders violently beneath her and she falls to her knees. She stares at the claw for a moment, feels the last, shuddering exhale of evil leave the world, and allows the tension to leave her shoulders. The glow leaves her. Her skin pales, and she coughs up a gout of blood before collapsing forward into the broken street.Ā
Ā Ā She did it.Ā
Ā Ā She got him.
Ā Ā But...
Ā Ā Her eyes dim, even as she fights not to close them. The fight is half-hearted.
Ā Ā Sheād known the risks.
Ā Ā Sheād known thereād be no turning back.
Ā Ā With the last of her strength, she turns her head so she can see Bruno, laying not ten feet away, his broken body facing her, the sockets of his face where once the ghostly blue of his eyes lived are dark and empty.Ā
Ā Ā Sheād known thereād be no going back.
Ā Ā But that scaly fucker had it cominā.
Him: Jesus.Ā
Him:Ā If I were reading a book and then it said "Bruno is irreparably shattered" I would be like "Nope, I'm done" Close the book probably wouldn't pick it up till the next day.
