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I Tried Goblin Yoga And Now My Spine Is Missing (1/4)

  I feel like you guys are forgetting a bunch of unpleasant realities about Weir; I have to imagine whatever sensation I want to send with sufficient intensity that I can't do anything else while I'm doing it, and it only lasts about a half-second at best (and usually takes a lot out of me in the process). I also can't use it on the same target twice in a row, so if whatever option I pick doesn't pan out, I don't get a second try. It's a strong power, but it works best when I'm not directly in the line of fire.

  This has the unpleasant downside of also disrupting my vestibular system, so let's make this plan X. For now, the old standby. Skylar wheeled about and dashed for his culty little existence, looking desperately for cover or somewhere to hide; unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any on offer. Behind him and to his left was a pitched battle full of angry fish-men and sharp objects, to his right was the bridge's railing with a drop-off to certain death, and ahead of him was the lumbering spectre of pulverization which was thundering closer by the moment. He spun in a panicked little circle, whimpering a little.

  Skylar scowled. I could make it pretty much obliterate the bad guys' rear line, which would probably be really good for the defenders here, but at the cost of being able to defend myself against this thing at all afterwards. Still, maybe I can use the confusion to escape? He sighed, watching the Humbrite stomp closer, and realized he didn't have any choice. You guys should have voted for 'Solo it'. Setting his feet under him and strategically hyperventilating a little to oxygenate his muscles, he tried not to cringe, failed, realized cringing worked better for him here anyway, and cringed harder. When the great beast was only two strides away, he struck; looking up into its great, dull eyes, he screwed up his will and imagined the defenders breaking through the Kulaku's lines and assaulting the Humbrite's right foot as its final heavy step came down, shaking the bridge. With all the power he could muster, he activated Weir, hurling the image into the colossal thing's alien mind.

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  The impact on him was immediate and gruesome; a swarm of enemies had a lot more complexity than a static image of a wall or a momentary glimpse of a single attack, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. His knees buckled and his head swam, while his long-abused stomach churned and threatened for the hundredth time to expel its largely-theoretical contents at high velocity. Nearby, he heard a roar, followed by a terrifying impact and a cacophony of screams; it took him a moment to collect himself enough to look up. What he saw made him choke and freeze; the Humbrite had, as he'd hoped, swatted the majority of the Kulaku to his left off the bridge entirely with a single great sweep of its clumsy paw, and the human and Alvatri defenders had taken advantage of the opening and were swarming through, breaking the monsters' line and collapsing their defenses across the breadth of the entire skirmish. But the immediate target of their attack was predictable, with predictable results.

  The first warrior to reach it -- a brawny, musclebound human wielding a massive two-handed axe -- roared animalistically and sunk his blade deep into the Humbrite's enormous, claylike toe; great first strike, guy, just stellar. As might be expected, the Humbrite roared in pain and struck down at its assailant with a swift, ruinous blow, smashing him into paste against the ground with its titanic fist.

  And the section of the bridge they were both standing on along with it.

  The stones under Skylar's feet jumped and shuddered as though in fear, and he yelped and clutched the railing to his right for dear life; Erdrym, rising above the fray with a defiant gesture and a less-than-inspiring squeak of command, hurled a massive banner at the Humbrite like a javelin and took it directly through the eye. Reine, to the Councilor's left, shouted an invocation to Maivat as the great beast reeled, and a squadron of soldiers struck at its flank with pikes all in a coordinated assault that Skylar was amazed hadn't been pre-planned. For a moment, the malformed giant tottered and flailed on the edge of the crumbling span, then fell with a massive, echoing roar that reverberated all throughout the cavernous space of the hollow mountain; but as it fell, its desperate grasping clutch snagged on the edge of the bridge and plucked it like the string of a harp.

  For an instant, Skylar thought that the bridge would collapse and everyone was going to die; but the craftsmanship of the structure was better than he'd anticipated, and great span instead merely leapt and shuddered like a great struck bell, sending ripples of shear force along its length at nearly the speed of sound. In the flash of an instant, both armies were thrown violently into the air.

  Skylar, with his death-grip on the railing, thought at first that he was pretty well-off compared to everyone else; but then the bridge snapped back downwards with vicious severity, and he abruptly found himself upside-down and hurled by merciless centripetal force around the axis of the railing and into the yawning space below. Luckily, his arms were locked entirely around the railing instead of only his hands, so he didn't immediately fall to his death; but the impact wrenched his shoulders painfully and took the breath from his lungs, leaving him gasping while his feet dangled over a thousand-foot fall. Drotz. I can't pull myself up.

  He tried to shout for help, but everyone else was screaming too (including the soldiers and monsters who hadn't been holding onto the railing and were now preceding him into the abyss, very loudly); for a long moment, he just hung there helplessly while the bridge shook and quivered like a wet dog. But then, as usual, things got worse; a large crack appeared with a noise like a gunshot in the railing to which he clung, and began to creep towards his position. Great. I don't know why I expected anything else.

  Panting for what air he could manage, Skylar kicked and squirmed, struggling to build up enough momentum to lever himself up; but nothing was working, and the railing had begun to buckle in the interim. Grimly, he looked below him and saw only the churning chaos of another battle far below, obscured by vishnat clouds due to the height from which he beheld it. Gog almighty, can I not catch a break?!

  Then, improbably, he heard someone above him; a hand shot out over the railing, gripping his forearm. Gratefully, he groped at it, and it took hold of his own hand in a forceful clasp; with the last of his strength, Skylar let go of the railing with his other arm and pulled. His unseen rescuer, grunting and cursing in a familiar voice, pulled in return with sufficient-if-only-barely force, and Skylar crested the top of the rail, a fulsome thank-you upon his lips; but it died, unspoken, when he saw who had pulled him up.

  Staring back at him was himself -- again -- dressed identically to his current clothing; sweat and blood streaked his face, which had an apologetic expression. "So," the other Skylar commented hurriedly, "this will all make sense later, okay?" Before he could ask what the drotz his other self was talking about, the other Skylar gripped his desperately-clutching hands and shoved away, hard.

  Skylar Kass fell.

  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

  


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