Ultimate End

Four stories below the frozen mountains of Modeoheim, steel grating was rapidly thumping and echoing in the large facility chambers. Each groaning step heralded the immense terror stricken in a young woman. The cruel magician had engaged her against her will and was now in pursuit of her. The relations between the northern comfort of Modeoheim and Bone Village were weakening as Bone Village's leaders quickly rose to power and fell just as swiftly within mere days. The latest alpha male ruler had sent his son whom he deemed "prince" to capture the mayor of Modeoheim's daughter and wed her.

A warm mako glow rippled from a leathery hand. A smile, worn and sinister, appeared from behind a black hood decorated in various stars and moon shaped spangles. The magician, the son of Bone Village's leader, had chased her into a straight-way and was now casting a spell. In the blink of an eye which never reopened, the young woman collapsed into a deep torpor. She was his, finally.

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Agnes and Butch gathered the citizens of Modeoheim with their pitchforks, pickaxes, torches, and lanterns, and planned to march over Bone Village. A larger man, dark skinned and scarred to oblivion stepped forward from the crowd to mutter something to Butch. His eyes grew softer and his head nodded affirmatively. The large man, who's name was cheered by the crowd; "Darius! Darius! Darius!", stumbled through them and let Butch and Agnes calm them down. He needed that crowd to stay away from Bone Village tonight. The strike team would launch their attack at twilight, barring a snowstorm or some other ungodly force of nature.

The chanted named man, Darius, drew on his bearskin cloak and bear-head hood, grabbed his giant war axe, peering down the huge mountain ravine. The Bone Village's army lay asleep in campfire just below. The team would be here soon and Darius was calmly, patiently going to wait for each and every one of those mercenary meat sacks to be slaughtered in the encampment before he was satisfied. You don't just steal a big Berserker mayor's daughter and live to tell the tale.

Icy wind tore at Gaven's clothes, tossing his scarf about like a rag doll. Even though the encampment was perched below the tree line, it was still piercingly cold. He massaged his temples as the townspeople frenzied, bearing teeth and shouting. It was pretty frustrating from his point of view, how loud they could be and how willing they were to prove it, and their mayor seemed like an incompetent tool.

Either way, he was to be paid, absolutely. Sure, he cared about the people of Modeoheim. They didn't deserve whatever it was the cabalists of bone village were perpetraiting against them, but they hardly had a smattering of rag-tag adventurers, let alone a mercenary strike team.

He shifted in place, still fidgety. Finally, he decided to do it.

Keeping his eyes on Darius, he strode forward with as much purpose as the night mountain wind, coupled with his anxiety, would let him.

"Ah," he said, gaining his footing "I hear you're looking for mercenaries," and, feeling this sounded strange quickly added:
"name's Gaven Cassedy. I'm a reaper from Wu-tai and I'd like to offer my services."
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The trees broke around Priest, thinning out and making an uneasy semicircle around the backside of the Modeoheim encampment on the mountain face. The swordsman traipsed easily down the rock, and into town. There were many bustling, dirty faces, still setting up tents and getting ready for the midnight strike on bone village.

He approached a gaggle of villagers, stopping next to a podium so see what they were babbling about. It appears that they were sending a strike team of mercenaries down the mountain to assault bone village.

Their strike force consisted of a single constipated twelve year old in a green jacket.

Hearing enough, he stepped from around the platform and cleared his throat loudly to announce his presence. Giving the child who's name was apparently Gaven a fractured smile, the then looked up to Darius, reiterating, word for word, what the reaper had said, replacing "Gaven" with "Priest", "reaper" with "swordsman" and "Wu-tai" with "not Wu-tai". The spark of shock that crossed the kid's face was as delightful as it was probably constipation-related.

The snow appeared to move in the shape of a human but morphing around. Jacken thought of an amoeba when his pure white coat dusted the fresh powder below his boots. Today he was a native Modeo—complete with white duster coat brimming with fur, polished white leather hiking boots, a fake sword which his own swordbreaker was sheathed inside, and a furry hood wrapping up Jacken's face. The only oddity among this paladinian white was the blatant fingernail decor of which Nero would be proud.

All-for-all, Jacken looked like morphing snow. He was now lying prone just behind a group encircling the mayor—just waiting to overhear the juicy strike plan. His role had been explained the previous night when Jacken showed up, claiming to be Jack Kelvin, a resident from his childhood who was abandoned by parents he never knew and now they were supposedly dead. The soft-hearted mayor of course let him stay in his own home, from there Jacken learned all about Modeoheim's structure and political problems. If he pulled this off, there could be a cute girl and a dead Black Mage in it for him.

Dead black mages were of use to Jacken—don't need any contenders for power.

God dammit. Thought Darius. He turned to "Priest" and then his eyes flicked back to a man in blue who was hoofing it like his ass was on fire down to the encampment. Darius projected his voice, "Alright there Priest, you've been spotted as you came here. Making noise and dicking around; you're a scout's wet dream." he considered the man before him. No doubt he'd be reckless but more useful than a burden, Darius was sure. Unfortunately, the strike would need to mobilize forty minutes early. Anyone else who showed up was in for a rude awakening.

Turning around, Darius addressed the group. "Alright, you three are the A team, you will go in first." before anyone could give him a confused look at "three", Darius pointed at the ground to the man he called Jack Kelvin. "Kelvin, " he now addressed the lump of snow, "Get your ass up and step with them. We have Agents for sneaking, goddamn." the A-team was, as explained by Darius, to infiltrate at their desire the camp below. He didn't care if it was sneaky at this point since that fucking scout was going to blow everything.

"Okay, invisible people. You are with the A-team. If one of them engages in battle, you help." Darius spoke while staring blankly into the horizon. No murmurs of affirmation came, only the whispering wind. Suddenly turning a paradigm, Darius bellowed to a group behind the A-team. "You, Blue Mage, Alchemist, White Mage; you are C-team. Heal A-team and B-team. Where the fuck is B-Team anyway?" Darius took command of this dragon situation with the ferocity of a dragon-slayer. B-Team had better show up or no pay for them.

"On my mark...go!" Darius pointed down and shouted the last word.

Priest bared a gnarly grin and spun about, walking slowly towards the underbrush. His eyes flitted across the ground, searching that might come in use later.

This might be fun, thought Priest, killing mages for shits 'n grins. Watching my comrades fall. All sorts of zany shit might take place. He drew his sword and continued marching through a thicket of trees, towards the bone village camp. His smile broadened slightly.
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Darius was extremely on edge, it appeared. Sure, this conflict with bone village was going way down hill, and could end terribly, but if he wanted his soldiers to have morale about the situation, or even give a shit, he should probably learn to be a good leader first.

Gaven sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around him. He followed after Priest, staying a couple of yards back and trying to move more slowly and gracefully than the rhinoceros of a swordsman ahead of him. It wasn't difficult. Bone Village would know they were coming anyway, but maybe they could sneak in undetected before launching the assault. They still might be able to pull off a surprise attack.

Edit by Trevlac: Found Double Cut

Snow exploded in a thousand tiny dust clouds when Jacken rocketed to his feet. The call to arms was less to do with it than maintaining the appearance of a bumbling failure. He played this part particularly well considering the sheet-thin lies that got him into it. Of course Jacken intended to kill the mage—only after sapping him of whatever knowledge and goods he had first—but no, the real conspiracy was that he planned to fake wedding Darius' daughter and make off the with the dowry. For now, he'd go along with this 'strike operation' crap.

Seeing that there was one a little too eager in the group—or perhaps just very obedient, Jacken decided to follow him. Little did the poor con-man know that this Priest man always chose the path of most resistance when he walked downhill in a forest. As though he wanted the planet itself to challenge him to a duel. Maybe he was just reading too much into this guy but maybe not. Reading into people was his job.

The terrain was unforgiving as fuck as Jacken tripped and rolled down no less than three huge ravines; all on purpose of course. But at the base of the encampment, there they were. And they were fucking ready this time. In his head, Jacken heard Activating Combat Mode.

"Fucking late..." Darian wrapped his jacket closer around him as he started into a full out run through the snow. B-Team had gotten lost along the way to the rally point and was now running late, an unfortunate situation that could botch the entire mission. Luckily, He and the rest of the team were not too far behind.

"I can see the other teams ahead! Let's go!" He kept up his pace, hoping to rally with the group before the order was called. Hopefully we won't be in too much shit for being a few minutes late.

The air filled with the yell to move in, sharp and loud. the heads of the other teams were barely visible before they disappeared again through the trees towards Modeoheim. The battle had started, and B-Team was late to the party.

Priest gazed into the gleaming yellow surface of his new materia. His face gazed back and his heart skipped a couple of beats. He was practically giddy. The swordsman stowed it in his pocket for later use; when he finally came upon a slotted bangle.

He stepped through a break in the trees, coming out over a small ledge which overlooked a squad of two black magicians. They spoke amongst themselves of the Modeoheim and blah blah who fucking cares.

Priest gripped his blade with two hands, practically strangling the poor weapon to death, turned his head, and whispered to Gaven. "Alright, get out your fucking weapon, we're gonna teach them a lesson in division."

With that, he threw himself off the short cliff, landing behind one of the magicians. He swung the blade with all his might at the mage's neck, hoping to sever it clean off with his might alone. They were shocked, eyes widened, they hardly had time to realize what was happening.

Conflict Resolved.
Priest bisected the meatbag mage dealing 22 damage of the mage's 18 HP, instantly killing it. Once the blood, gushing out of its duo-dissected body, stopped pouring out. Priest stuck his hand into the mangled mess and wrenched free the mage's Iron Armlet
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Gaven gulped when he was the malevolent twinkle in Priest's eye. This man was insane. He was consumed by an inhuman bloodlust. Modeoheim was lucky to have him on their side.

He spoke a single word and a six foot sword materialized in his hand, gleaming in the milky sun's florescent film. He grinned at the yet-unused blade with pride and lept off the cliff after Priest.

Losing his balance as he landed, the young reaper stumbled, throwing a lazy slash towards the black mage not targeted by his malcontent comrade. Though, with a blade longer that you are tall, every strike seemed to generate it's own power.

Conflict Resolved.
Gaven horizontally cleaved the retarded mage in half with a single lazy strike dealing 20 damage of the mage's 18 HP, instantly killing it. The pulsating heart of the mage flickered for a few moments as it rolled down the white packed-in hill of snow and came to rest on the boots of the last mage comrade. His eyes widened in fear at the duo.

"Just one left?" Jacken crowed over the unmistakable screams of surprised terror and chunking of flesh. The otherwise non-combat party member engaged the last mage with the terrifying Priest and bizarrely bumbling genius, Gaven. It took all of half a second to both draw the deceptive swordbreaker blade from the faux broadsword shell. He hoped to get a pre-emptive strike on the last mage as he whipped around him, stabbing inward.

Conflict Resolved.
The agile Jacken was as a crow hopping from one foot to the next. The series of quick and successive stabs left the mage dumbfounded and unable to cast his spell. It would have been a hot one if not for Jacken's instant maim-kill. The mage was struck for exactly 18 of it's 18HP, leaving it nothing more than a bloody mess for white wolves to rend apart in the unforgiving snowlands. A glittering yellow orb rolls out of the limp corpse before Jacken and glimmers in the moonlight. Invasion is identified.

Darian thundered through the trees, pulling his blade from it's sheath and holding it firmly in his right hand and launched himself off of the small cliff, landing halfway down the side and began to slide to the encampment, blade poised at the ready position as he approached.

As he slid down the hill, he watched as other members of the party had easily finished off the mages at the bottom of the hill. He came to a halt at the bottom and grunted. "Seems I'm a little too late..." He muttered to himself.

Alaric sprinted behind Darian through the snow, hungry for battle.

"Accursed mountains, so shit-easy to get lost in." he grumbled, pulling sliding down right behind Darian. He glanced back, wary of a rock knocked loose by their hasty descent, and felt grateful for his paranoia when as two mages emeged with startle looks from a well-hidden cave, staffs held at the ready, no more than 15 feet away from him.
"Darian! They come from behind! Let slip the dogs of WAR!" he stated exitedly, before launching himself, grinning broadly, at them, directing a mighty thrust at closer fellow's unarmored chest.

Conflict Resolved:
The emerald peal of a viscous poison coats Alaric's lungs, choking and drowning him for a moment. He recovers his composure after taking 28 damage. As though the Bio spell cas upon him had triggered something innate, Alaric twirled his polearm Banquo, and thrusted it into the mage's brain-dealing 48 damage and severing its spinal cord, ripping it from the body. The heap of post-mage dropped a green glittering orb; the magic materia Leech. You feel a little stronger and your Lightning materia gains Bolt 2.

Darian turned to see Alaric take down a mage who had come out of a hidden cave, the other mage startled as the head came toppling off of his comrade. Darian readied his blade and charged toward the mage, "This one is mine!" He roared.

stomping through the snow like a bull towards the mage, he brought his blade up, swinging downwards on an angle with all of his might.

Conflict Resolved:
The mage stepped into the sword as Darien hefted its mighty weight, crashing it into the magic weaver's collarbone. The blade heated from force and cleaved slowly through the entire body of the victim as he screamed and wretched. Its tendons popped and the maged writhed one last time as he was split into a human letter Y. The damage he suffered was immense, 54 HP of 18-felling him instantly without another breath. The peculiar mage was a substitute Engineer and so carried a Gunblade which Darian hastily retrieved. He felt stronger now; a renewed vigor in attitude giving him the ability to press on.

Watching the mangled bodies of the mages fall sent a shock of glee through Priest's bones. "Fuck yeah! Kill 'em all!" he screamed with a whoop, activating his Double-Cut materia, he unleashed a flurry onto another local mage.

Conflict Resolved
A nearby soldier noticed his mage companion about to be glue and cast Ice on Priest while he was busy initiating an attack. Priest's legs went numb as the shards hit him, dealing a pittance 13 damage to him. It was as though he didn't even need to shrug it off; the beastly Priest swung his short sword upward from the ground, catching the mage's robe between his legs, bisecting him from the crotch dealing 40 damage. The mage was dead as he was lifted completely off the ground and into the air. But in a berserk spirit of glee, Priest continued his barrage, twirling the blade horizontally and quartering the split body. It was his for another 44 damage and overkill. In his stupified state, Priest realized one thing: if he were to grip this single blade with two hands, he could deal twice as much damage and so learned a new ability.

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Gaven watched idly as his comrades felled half a dozen or so mages within seconds time. He sheathed his blade, using his Ashura skill to invisi-fy it, and strolled off. Perhaps he could find something happening elsewhere.

He marched over the crest of the last hill before the encampment, allowing him to peer out over the small recess in the landscape where the bone village army lay. It was chaos; apparently news had finally come that the people of Modeoheim had sent soldiers to attack. Sleepy magicians and soldiers of all sorts stumbled about, confused.

Now may be their best chance to attack...

The wind picked up pretty heavily but cold tufts of snow froze the insides of Jacken's nose, masking the stench of death and blood around him. He pulled back the white hood of his duster, revealing a pinked face and dark brown hair. One left. Can I do this? Everyone else can fell these fuckers in one hit. I'm weak and I use a short blade...

Jumping forward and screaming a war cry, Jacken closed his eyes as he aimed a thrust at the mage's face who was starting to cast a spell.

Conflict Resolved:
Unwittingly, Jacken's mistrust in his own abilities provided him with the precise critical strike he needed; a thrust to the mage's heart dealing 32 damage and silencing him forever. The faceless hooded mage began to gargle blood as the lifeless body twitched into oblivion. He felt stronger now that his confidence had been restored.

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It had been thirty long days of solid travel for Alice when she woke from Icicle Inn that afternoon. The trip from Mideel to Modeoheim was one of the roughest with little money. You have to do odd-jobs on every continent just to get money for a boat ride and food for the days. But finally she had made it. Finally, today was the day of the task. Preparing herself with nothing but her own two gloves and a fluffy black dress, Alice set off down the mountain on a dogsled she rented at the Inn.

It was absolute bedlam when Alice arrived. It only took six minutes to locate Darius and learn that she had been assigned with the two people barely down the hill slaying mages who were using guerrilla tactics. Instantly engaging in the fight, Alice hauled off with a sucker punch to one mage and followed up with a pneumatic metal fist.

Conflict Resolved:
Alice proved her might with the first blow, exploding the enemy's right shoulder on contact, severing major arteries and bleeding him to death. Even though it died after taking 44 damage, Alice thought it still alive and thrust a mechanized fist toward the rib cage of the corpse, but missed at the last moment; realizing that he was actually dead. She kept herself from stumbling into the slippery snow but as she righted herself she remembered the lesson of Perseverance the school had taught her. That ability was now hers to command.

"Seems like we can't do much else here, let's move on to the next encampment, Alaric." Darian fixed his jacket, then proceeded towards the next small cluster of tents. These one's may be more awake now that they know we're coming.

"Be on your guard, the next section of tents won't be as sleepy now that they know we're here." His feet pounded through the snow, the trail he left quickly being covered by snow again.

Through the blowing snow, He could make out the outline of a tent with two mages sitting inside, apparently oblivious to what is going on around them. Darian poised his blade in front of him, preparing a Slash All as he cut through the wall of the tent, hoping to surprise the occupants inside.

Conflict Resolved:
The first mage fell the instant the tent was rent in two to the tune of 132 damage. The blood that coated the other mage blinded him long enough to miss the blade's path continue to his own face, scalping him for 118 damage.

"Excellent thinking, comrade!" Alaric hissed, gripping his Lightning materia as he followed Darian. He felt a twinge of admiration for the stolid Judge's quiet brutality as he filleted two mages inside their tent. He had never been as good at holding in his emotions as that. His heart was on his sleeve, as they say.

Alaric had dreamed of this kind of carnage all his life. Glory, warfare, honor, death, blood, metal, these words spun in his head to the furious drumbeat of his heart, his fingertips thrilling with the elixer of adreniline.

Hearing the sound of someone stirring in a nearby tent snapped him out of his murderous rapture, Alaric approached the side of it as quietly as possible until he stood beside the door-flap, Banquo still dripping blood into the snow, eyes gleaming with blood lust. A heavily armored man with a spiked mace gripped between his hands leaped out, and Alaric launched a massive, sweeping overhead blow at the top of his skull.

Conflict Resolved:
The man with the mace smashed Alaric's chest, nearly caving it it. He felt a few bones creak but not break and Alaric took a painful 40 damage. He recovered and, like his life depended on it, brought the end of Banquo down on the top of the armor'd man's head, rupturing his head into pieces dealing a critical 108 damage. After the gore subsided, Alaric spawned an interesting tweak in his grip. He realized that by gripping with two hands, he could wield the polearm as well as any other weapon and one handed weapons would be twice as effective. Upon the slaying of this man, Alaric sees a green materia shoot out from under his armor. Picking it up, he notices it's another Leech.

When the last of the mages had died, the berserk roar of Darius filled the snow-fallen valley below. He was charging down himself. But just as he got to the summit, spit flying from his mouth in a hellish roar, he was instantly knocked over by something the size of a pine tree. It had two tree-stump sized feet covered in white hair and arms the size of tree limbs uprooted the berserker, throwing him clear across the encampment. A chain was wrapped around it. One of the Modeoheim Agents appeared before each team to inform them that this was the summon Titan.

With the anger of the land itself, Titan roared and beat its fleshy chest. The blank-white eyes stared infinitely at everyone. Team B and Team A were flanking him, but both within his arm's length. Suddenly, all of the corpses of the mages were risen into the air by a float spell. It seemed a Black Mage was pulling some strings from behind the scenes. Everyone was informed by the Agents that the Black Mage was the kidnapper, and behind him was a Judge who was also known for his Summoning abilities. They are both sinister and high ranking, but appear to not want to get their hands dirty.

Suddenly, the corpses of all of the felled mages rushed toward Titan, and he ate them whole, growing in size and health. His life force was the combined total of all the slain mages times his summoner's level.

A roaring terror exploded from the ground, mangling their favorite Darius and consuming a pile of corpses. Priest whipped around in time to see the last corpse be ripped to shreds by the gnashing maw of the Titan.

"Fucking fuck, this is getting better and better!" he screamed, eyes spinning wildly in his head. A malicious grin split his face as he raising his sword in a headlong dash towards the beast. He activated his Double-Cut and threw down a cross slash.

Activating Combat Mode:
Priest's efforts with the cross-slash netted him 896 on the upswing and 852 damage on the crossover slash. The giant roars as he takes a total of 1748 damage! Realizing the valor of attacking with his armor, Priest now understands that everything is a weapon. If you slam your armor with your weapon, it hurts even more...

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Gaven shook as an immense demi-god razed the ground and unleashed an unearthly wail. He drew his blade and focused his courage. He didn't spent nine years training in the art of the blade to puss out at a time like this.

He launched himself off the ridge he stood upon, swinging Bladvak in a wide ark for the demon's throat.

Activating Combat Mode:
As it turns out, Gaven's abilities did fail him. In a time of crisis, panic took over and he missed the towering behemoth. But not because he's a failure, because something blue and shiny distracted him. An All materia was laying on the ground. He chanced picking it up in the fight.

Snapping his fingers, Jacken knew what had to be done. He set to work quick as a flash. Pulling the hood over his freezing face and running as fast as humanly possible, he got behind Titan just as the insane Priest dealt the hand of God to the son of the gods. Twice. Feeling emasculated, Jacken looked down at his own shitty little swordbreaker and decided that a back attack was most prudent. The breaker plunged deep into the Titan's flesh with a flick of the wrist.

Activating Combat Mode:
The breaker didn't fail Jacken as the slotted blade plunged deep into the olympian's heel dealing 32 damage.

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Alice wasn't a fool. She wouldn't go near an enraged gladiator with no sense of self-preservation. He just ran up and kacked that glitterbitch. Flipping the hair out of her face, Alice drew both fists into a locked position, then like pistons, fired them after jumping into the air. The beast's face was going to become a pancake. One-two!

Activating Combat Mode:
The hits inflicted by Alice hit for 32 and then 36 damage. A total of 64 damage. It took all of three seconds to remember yet another teaching from school, when hit-hit back. Counter ability learned.

The Titan was thrown into a fit of rage. It was [Berserk] before but now it's on a rampage. The Anger of the Land wrecked a revenge worthy of Mount Olympus itself and the titan bent down, cords popping in his oversized neck muscles, and he wrenched a huge chunk of the land from the ground and flipped it over. Everyone else scattered but Gavin was busy grabbing a materia. He was hit for 178 damage and [Incapacitated].

At once the six agents attacked him like a trained barrage of invisible damage. Shurikens, swords, katanas, and spears flashed brilliantly as the Titan took 152, 124, 120, 120, 192, and the last Agent, not trained as all the others, missed Titan entirely.

Alaric felt a new sureness and strength in his hands that he wished he had time to appreciate as he ran towards the immense, hideous beast that now threatened his colleagues.

The one called Priest tore into the being with aplomb. "Oh, you lucky bastard" thought Banquo as he dodged a piece of gory flesh hewn off in the frenzy of battle. The enraged monster ripped at the very ground like it was sand, so terrible was its strength.

Excellent!

The monster shook under the hail of impacts from the Agents like an epileptic, blood flowing from one corner of its mouth. But it was still alive, and it looked angry. They had to finish this and find that girl, and quick.

"Ha ha, well-done, noble warriors! Let's finish this sack of guts and get to the main course; creme a la dead-wizard-kidnappers!" Alaric shouted as he broke into a run.

Alaric sprinted up to the wounded monster and directed Banquo at the tumorous bulge of its crotch as he screamed out a crazed "DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAATH!!!!!", like some apocalypse bird home to roost.

Activating Combat Mode:
In his haste to strike, Alaric forgot to look where he was aiming and promptly hit a tree, missing Titan entirely.

Darian glared at the Titan. The summon was huge and intimidating, but he kept his head about him. The bigger they are the harder they fall. He shouldered his blade and ran towards the summon, creating a blinding snowstorm behind him. As he approached Titan, he pushed himself to the ground going in to a slide, going through the opening in the legs of the Titan. As he came through the summon's legs, Darian shifted his weight so he planted his feet on the ground, then pushed upwards. The force of his jump pushed him almost 3 feet higher than the head of the Titan. He swung his blade off of his shoulder and prepared to slash his sword with the fury of an enraged boar, aiming for the Titan's broad back. As he unleashed the attack, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "AMELIEAAAAAA!"

Activating Combat Mode:
Darian's epic outcry was matched in magnitude by the strength of his steel and the steadfastness of his heart. The hand of death that wrought a blind wrath upon the Titan dealt 126 damage.

Mortals have no place in this combat... thought Jacken as his hand retrieved the pitiful swordbreaker from Titan's heel. This was going nowhere fast and Jacken didn't like slow death marches. It was that time again, time to take control of the situation and get things done the old fashioned way. Voice and reason.

Withdrawing from the fight, Jacken crept up the side of the mountain through the tall pine trees. The perilous way up was made easier by the path carved by Priest when he cut a swath through the most difficult route possible. Upon reaching the pinnacle, Jacken looked around. He spotted them; a brown-skinned mage was giggling softly to himself while the Judge-Summoner looked on in disdain. His gloved hand firmly grasped the chain binding Titan.

It took only a few seconds for Jacken to creep up to them personally. He pulled off his hood, much to the surprise of the mage who gasped and jumped backward. The Judge put the tip of a giant two-handed sword up to his throat in a split second. Jacken's hands raised in a 'surrender' pose immediately. He spoke only the short words "I have a proposition."

Conflict Aborted:
Jacken's exploration of the Priest-dilapidated path netted him the notice of a green
Barrier materia laying silently on the mud below several inches of upturned snow.

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It took Alice all of a minute to decide that the best course of action was to continue pummeling away until Titan was obliterated. It had to die eventually and perseverance was a virtue. Sweat began to form on her brow and Alice's breath deepened as she jumped back up on him like a colossus and slammed his face again.

Combat Phase:
Alice's mighty fists land first for 40 damage and then again for 36 damage.

Priest eyed Jacken wearily as the wily good-for-stuff crept away under the cover of a screaming man-child throwing a temper tantrum. The mad swordsman perched himself feet away from the titan who had just flipped a wedge of land over, smashing his soon-to-be dead comrade Gaven under it's weight.

"You fat fuck," he belched, "I'm gonna send you back to hell!"

Readying the blade on his shoulder, he flicked it forwardly with measured celerity; activating, once more, with a two-handed Double-Cut combo; aimed for the stomach.

Combat Phase:
The air tried to keep pace with the demonic Priest and his beastly swings. Another vectored incision was made in Titan's flesh, stealing away another 904 HP from his life. The second cut, even stronger, wrecked the summon in the way of 940 points. A total of 1884.
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Gaven choked out a gurgling scream as a chunk of sundered earth crushed him under it's immense weight. Air was ripped from his collapsing lungs, and the last thing he saw before going unconscious was Alaric making a flaccid miss for the towering beast.

"I see your point." said the Black Mage, stroking his goatee. "Make it convincing. But I say to you, if you are merely using me for their sake," and pointed with a free hand to the people below fighting Titan, "I'll kill you personally. Slowly." crossing his arms, the Black Mage finished with an introduction while staring only at the Titan. "I'm Rashad. Rashad, Malachi." I do believe I can fit a small lesson in for now. Prepare to have your very mind wrenched from the fabric of reality...

Jacken didn't look at the judge even once during this exchange. He understood who was really in charge regardless of who was stronger. Money, that was it. The powerful do not serve those weaker without needing something, and that something is usually funds. But nevertheless, now was the time. He must prepare his mind, his clever-clever mind, for a new lesson. Black Magic.

Lesson Phase:
Jacken's mind was assaulted with strange new concepts. Non-Euclidean space, four dimensions, the Weave, and the true meaning of Entropy. After what seemed like several sunlit days, but was in fact only a few minutes, Jacken's eyes opened. He understood. He knew, knew what it was to be a Black Magician. His very class changed, and he now understood that he had the ability to absorb the magical source of others.