Monster Breeder

Defense Team - Field Town (Opal) 

It’s a fight between Third Tier monsters at the heart of this conflict, but we have plenty of allies about. Numbers are on our side, and it’s time we leverage them.

“You all, assist the defenders. The rest of us will systematically sweep the grounds! We’ll leave the enemy nowhere to run,” Janine the Hobgoblin Secretary promises. She gathers and organizes our forces, dividing them into two groups. With the Nyanjas sulking about in the shadows, it’ll take a lot of coordinated effort for the first group to corner them. Meanwhile, Nyassassins will quickly devastate our main fighters without support fire from the second group, and they're eager to dish it out. 

Stranglers throw their tentacle-vines at the cat mask fighting our Matrons, followed by Drosera's sticky Trap tendrils. The cat mask swings his blade with expert skill until their efforts are so much spilled pasta on the ground. His weapon slices through vines with clean cuts, his movements swift and agile, his footing sure and spry. When his sword gets glued to Drosera’s adhesive sap, he drops it and summons another.

Guard Doggins try to dog-pile him. He slips away in a shadow and manifests elsewhere to throw a handful of shuriken into the melee. The canine monsters whine pitifully as they’re struck with sardines and several stop to lick their wounds.

Lizardmen throw themselves at him in an admirable display of loyalty to Field Town despite knowing the inevitable outcome of such an act. He sidesteps their clumsy tackles and idly slashes their sides in passing as if taking a stroll. Blood splashes the pavilion floor as the reptilian monsters fall. 

All of this to provide cover for Lois the Dormouse Matron to untangle herself from the pavilion curtains and Aello to construct another Air Blade that isn’t any more effective than the first. Our allies scramble to dodge the haphazard flight of the Air Blade halves after the cat mask cuts it in two. Just three Nyassassins are somehow able to deal with all of us simultaneously.

I’m having flashbacks. It’s like fighting the Sheikh three times over! Except, this time, we don’t have Spindle’s support. They're dismantling us...

No, I can't let my fellows spill their blood in vain! Taste the passion of my burning venom! 

The glands behind my fangs, already filled to bursting with supercritical fluid, squeeze out a stream of venom-steam I aim at the blood-stained cat mask. He's caught off guard but manages to raise his sword to shield his eyes. Lucky for him, or that would've ended it. 

His precious Nyanjato liquefies from the intense heat into dripping molten metal that puddles at his paws. Flecks of corrosive venom burn holes into his black silks and sizzle on the skin beneath. For all that, he's more pissed than wounded. 

A handful of fish-shaped shuriken strikes me simultaneously in several places. I cry out in pain as blood-steam spews from the holes in my red-hot scales. My long, sinuous body is nothing but a target to these Nyassassins. Still, I won't be deterred! I’ll keep shooting wherever I see an opening.

Meanwhile, Jeff the Sand Hobgoblin rallies his forces. The Sand Goblins refuse to sit back and watch as their new home is ransacked. They start slinging their bone daggers at all three cat masks in turn. These projectiles are contemptuously knocked out of the air with counter-throws of sardine shuriken or batted aside with swings of the Nyanjato. However, the constant barrage provides a distraction, taxing the enemy’s attention spans and stretching their focus to the limit.

Jeff and his right-hand Hob partner rush into the melee with the first of the cat masks. Brandishing their bone-carved short swords, the Hobs slash and stab at the female Nyassassin's flank while she’s busy deflecting Simona’s nunchaku. 

The woman in the cat mask fights like a phantom. She expertly dodges blades that target her blind spot, her only tell the flick of an ear beneath its silken sheath. She ducks a stab at her neck without looking before she turns to deliver a roundhouse kick to Jeff's face that takes him for a tumble. She steps into the second Hob's swing, disarms the fighter with an elbow, and disables the Hob’s leg with a blow to the knee. 

Both Hobs are down in an instant. It's a frightening display of the Nyassassin’s capabilities. 

Rallos the Pseudo-Cerberus is holding off the second cat mask almost single-handedly, but it’s not going well for him. The Nyassassin chooses not to press the attack despite the fact that Rallos is spitting blood from an earlier injury, throwing sardine shuriken at their leisure while daring the canine monster to close the distance. He continues to accumulate damage by the minute, even though he’s knocking half the incoming projectiles aside with his chain-baton nunchaku. If we lose him, it’s all over.

“If they’re cats, then let’s see how they like this…” Janine says as she instructs the Cactus Belly Dancers. Instead of shooting a spray of their needles, which seems likely to be dodged or deflected, they utilize their Water Magic at her instruction. These pregnant treefolk follow her guiding finger, aiming high so the streams of water break apart into a widespread rain that covers the entire pavilion.

This fine mist of droplets is too prolific for the cat masks to dodge or deflect them all. Even the shadows are soon soaked.

““Hiss!!!””

Dripping Nyanjas spit in displeasure, revealing their hiding spots. It’s working! But, just as it seems the sneaky felines will be dragged into a fight with the remainder of our forces, the female Nyassassin—her damp bodysuit clinging to her curves while her ears droop unhappily—says, “Don’t forget what’s at stake! We endure any humiliation! We give our lives for the Order!”

““…Our lives for the Order!””

Despite hating every second of this, the Nyanjas return to their search before our Lizardmen and Guard Doggins can corner them. The blue-clad figures sink into the shadows or vanish in a blink.

It seems we can't defeat the Nyassassins or stop the Nyanjas. It's hopeless... 

"Sneak attack! Fire at will!" It's the Bee Girl swarm!

Despite it not being much of a surprise when called out, this barrage does catch the Nyassassins flat-footed. Instead of buzzing in like charging cavalry, the sneaky little things crawled into the pavilion along the ceiling. Their hail of venom darts falls from above. 

Not even cat-like reflexes can stop every needle from finding its mark. The female Nyassassin cuts through eight darts, her blade a blur, before one punctures her silks at the shoulder. The second cat mask attempts to dissolve into shadows but is a fraction too slow, and one dart pierces his arm. As for the third, the Bee Girls chose to focus-fire on the nearest two and leave him unharried. 

"Exterminate the pests," the female Nyassassin says as she pulls out another handful of shuriken. 

"No!" I won't be able to look Alex in the eye if I let anything happen to these little darlings. I'd rather die! 

Simona and I throw ourselves bodily at the first cat mask. I slither forward and lunge while the Pseudo-Cerberus goes in with her arms in a protective dive to take the projectiles in the Bee Girls' stead. It seems her lineage is from an exceptionally loyal breed of Doggin. 

Two handfuls of sardine shuriken slam into both of our chests as the Nyassassin forgoes the Bee Girls to take easy shots at us. Pain wracks my concentration, but I swing my clawed fingers at my enemy while Simona tries a bear hug. The Nyassassin dodges us as if swimming through the air, leaping and contorting her body to thread the needle between every blow. 

However, I have a last trick in mind. My tail whips out to strike her midsection, but she blocks with a forearm. Regardless, my hit sends her skidding on her slippered paws. 

She keeps her feet, though, and stares at us contemptuously through her cat mask. Her shoulder slumps from the venom dart, and her arm is severely burned from my red-hot scales. Despite all the damage, it doesn't seem to matter. 

Our enemy dodges a stream of my venom-steam, deflects a half-dozen Bee darts, and throws another handful of shuriken at Simona and me. I shield my face with my arms and take the projectiles where they land. I'm a sitting bunny for these ranged attacks. My wings are useless indoors. The enemy is too fast at range or in melee. What am I supposed to do? 

Simona the Pseudo-Cerberus powers through the pain, wipes the blood out of her three sets of eyes, and charges. 

It's a move born of desperation. It's as pointless as expected. 

The Nyassassin walks like she's taking a stroll. She tilts her head aside from the last-second nunchaku blow, steps through an opening in Simona's grapple attempt, and slashes the Pseudo-Cerberus's hamstring while deflecting stingers and bone darts with ease. Simona falls in a heap. 

Around me, the others fare no better. 

Already wounded and spitting blood from one mouth, Rallos is a pincushion for shuriken. Doggins and Lizardmen support him and surround the second Nyassassin, but the only hit the cat mask has taken is that single venom dart. The enemy weaves through spear strikes and baton swings as if toying with children. More shuriken bloody the field. 

At least the Bee Girls have fallen off the cat masks' priority list. 

Aello takes refuge in size, enlarging herself to her full monstrous transformation, becoming a giant bald vulture. It's not that useful in the enclosed pavilion... Her attack spell in this state is too big to differentiate friend from foe, but her stature keeps her vitals elevated out of reach or buried too deep in flesh and feathers to stab. 

I'm sure Alex will have something to say about that. 

Lois goes in for another round with the third cat mask (the one I sprayed with acid). He sees her coming and lashes out with a kick she ducks under. The littlest Matron latches onto the leg and bites his calf. 

"Even a mouse bites back in her burrow, cat!" she yells her battle cry before being grabbed by the scruff of the neck and punted roughly away. 

The Nyassassin doesn't have time for a fancy coup de grace while being pressured by Drosera's Stranglers and Sand Goblin throwing daggers. He's able to dodge everything and shred anything that gets close with his blurring Nyanjato. Drosera tries to grow a Trap plant under his feet, but he picks up on the danger early and changes position by slipping between shadows. 

I'm reminded this isn't an extermination; the Nyassassins don't seem to care about us at all besides the fact that we're protecting their human targets. The damage they do is mostly incidental. Well, mostly. 

I spit another spray of venom-steam at the female Nyassassin if only to keep her from going after the Bee Girls for another second. The woman wearing a cat mask dodges the stream and appears at my side in a blink. "That's enough from you, nuisance."

My body is in agony from all the wounds I've suffered already. It's only scales-deep, though. They don't stop me from flinging myself at the enemy.

Lunging forward to meet me, the Nyassassin pins me to the floor by the sternum, paw planted above the swell of my breasts. I stare in shock as their silk and fur burn on contact with my blazing skin. She doesn't flinch. These warriors truly don't fear injury or death... 

Still, I'll spit in her face with my last breath. Alex left me here to protect our home! I hiss defiance as the Nyassassin raises her Nyanjato for the final blow.

She tugs on the handle to bring it down on me, but the blade only dips slightly in the air, refusing to budge more than an inch. Another tug yields the same result. We both blink at the unexpected turn of events.

The cat mask examines the problem, finding a single purple-glowing thread attached to the tip of the blade. 

"Welcome to my parlour," says the Webling to her prey.

A powerful presence rolls over us like a wave. I haven't felt anything this menacing from a monster before. Not even Alex's Goblin Witch companion fills the air with such a potent miasma of dread. I don't think it's a spell or ability. I just know deep in my bones...

"You're so fucked," I tell the Nyassassin.

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