Merlin, what the hell?
He's a plat-hack, it would seem.Do you want me to deal with it?
Platinum hacker.That explained the casual ease with which he installed mods while in the middle of a fight.Not the best of the best, but damned fucking close.There probably wouldn't be any getting out of this fight until Lancelot knocked the little bastard down for good or someone hacked him and put an end to it that way.
Nah,Lancelot replied.The point is to kill time.This just makes it all the easier for me to be me.Just make sureIdon't get booted for cheating.
You're all clear.
Lancelot dismissed the message screen as Scrob charged him screaming bloody murder, because guaranteeing you'd need to take a deep breath in the middle of a swing was always a good idea.
As he got close, though, Scrob burst into flame, like a djinni of old or that dude from an antique comic he'd read once years ago.Lancelot threw himself forward and rolled right past him, pushed to his feet, and turned just in time to meet a wall of flame, lifting his buckler to block the worst of it, throwing it away as the flames died and his buckler turned into scrap metal and ashes.
"Not so tough now, are you?"Scrob said, eyes like green flames amidst all the orange and yellow and red.
Lancelot scoffed."Little Hobbit, nothing short of being tossed into a volcano will make me fear fire."He reached out to the water in the nearby river, calling it to him, requesting its help.The water answered, as it always did, as it always would, unless he ever betrayed it, and should he do that, his mother would kill him first.
Scrob screamed, throwing out his arms, fire shooting out in multiple lines, all of them headed straight for Lancelot.As the fire reached him, it hit a wall of water that shot up from the ground in a circle all around him, filling the arena with hot, billowing steam.
As the steam slowly dissipated, Lancelot stood there in only the default tunic, fully in his aquatic form, the water in the arena up to their ankles and rising quickly.He grinned as Scrob stared in wide-eyed dismay, much of his flames gone as he no doubt recharged from whatever that stupid, overblown special attack had been.
How are the wards?
Nearly done, Gawain replied.Well done.Show-off.You're always quiet right up until you're not.
Lancelot turned his attention back to Scrob."Try again, Ballsack."The words were slightly garbled, sibilant, as his mouth was not made for talking in this form, not in any way humans could understand.The waters spoke in song and subvocals, in gestures and lights.
"That's not in the game," Scrob hissed, the words coming out rough and ragged."That's not how the mermaids looks at all."
"I'm not a fucking mermaid," Lancelot said, and at his command, the water surged forward to knock Scrob down and drag him under.When he came up sputtering and gasping, eyes wide with terror, he was once more a cheap knock-off Hobbit, also in only the default tunic."Surrender."
Scrob's mouth twisted into a mutinous pout."Fuck you.Cheater."
"That's a bit rich coming from you," Lancelot said."I haven't cheated.I am what I am: the son of the Lady of the Lake."The water was up to their waists now, so he sank down into it and swam for the little cretin, grabbing his ankles and once more yanking him under.
Scrob flailed, panicked, eyes wide but likely seeing nothing in the water that was murky and gritty from all the movement.Lancelot surged in, wrapped a hand around his throat, and dragged him to the surface, which was at their shoulders now.Well, his shoulders.A couple more inches and Scrob would have to tread water.
"Surrender," he snarled.
"I surrender!"Scrob said between sputtering coughs.
Lancelot dismissed the water as the victory sounded, sending it silent gratitude, receiving warm affection in reply.A stray eel twined briefly around his legs before vanishing into the cracks from which the water had sprung.
As the last of the water vanished, he called Arondight to him, and brought up his armor again, letting his true form fade away.He slicked back his wet hair and sheathed his word.How are we doing?
Before he could read Gawain's reply, Scrob screamed like he was dying.Lancelot whipped around and stared in horror as Scrob thrashed on the ground, clawing at his face and head so hard he hurt himself."Merlin!"he bellowed as he ran across the arena.He dropped to his knees beside Scrob, grabbing him close.Around him the arena was a cacophony of noise, people screaming and shouting and pleading for help.Nobody was running, of course, because they could simply log off or go somewhere else, but the numbers hadn't really changed near as he could tell.People either thought this was part of the game or didn't care.
Merlin was there in the next breath, crouching on Scrob's other side.His UI was actually visible, numbers flashing across it at a rapid-fire pace, all gibberish to Lancelot.He looked at Lancelot, horrified."He's being taken over.Possessedfor all intents and purposes."
"That was supposed to be a joke!"Lancelot snarled."What can we do?"
"Nothing," Merlin said."We'd need direct access to the person possessing him."
Scrob abruptly went still, so limp and heavy in Lancelot's arms he might have been dead.Then his eyes opened, and a mean smile overtook his face.Lancelot recoiled, grabbing up Arondight and recalling his buckler.He knew that smile.Of all the people in the world, only one person had a smile that fucking mean.Thatcruel."Amphelise."
"LadyAmphelise to you, Captain," she said in Scrob's voice.The sword she called up was her own, glowing faintly purple, thirsty for the blood that would make it stronger and stronger.
Before they could fight, another figure appeared, moving into position so that the three of them formed the points of a wide half circle around Amphelise."You're no lady," Gawain said, "just a child eating harlot."
