Cursing deep within his mind, having hoped like hell that this whole thing could have been resolved peacefully, Tank shook off the ringing still resounding inside his head, and using all of his rugby player strength, stamina and grace, barrel rolled off to one side, whilst doing so, reaching down to the tiny pocket lining his right boot, in one silky smooth motion, and slipping the king's real ring onto his index finger. After the third tumble, he leapt up into the air, focused on his surroundings, wary of any possible threat. But on making contact with his skin, he'd forced whatever possessed the ring to awaken, and wake it did, using all its power to flood his mental defences. Instead of bolting immediately upright from his roll, his legs wobbled with weakness, causing him to overshoot and slide straight into a marble pillar off to one side. It was then that a voice projected into his psyche, numbing his limbs, inundating his mind, swamping his very being. As magic flared into existence all around him, darkness took hold.
From the moment that Manson started to address the naga king, Peter knew that this was it and there was no turning back now. And that crucially, there were only mere moments left until it all kicked off. Knowing that time was of the essence, keeping his body as still as possible so as not to alert Manson's crazy queen to exactly what he was doing, he very slowly tilted his head as far forward as it would go and, stretching out his tongue as far as he could, began trying to hook it underneath the necklace to which the alea was attached. Now more than ever, he needed as much luck as fate would offer up. With the seconds ticking away, and Manson's dulcet tones drifting around the room, he used all his concentration to complete the bizarre task that he'd set himself. At the back of his mind, tiny doubts nagged at him... mainly about surviving the battle, a few focusing on the unpredictable nature of the magic bound within the ancient alea.
Eyes gently closed, knees pulled in tight against her chest, the young bar worker had finally achieved a state of peace and cooperation with the weapon she now regarded as her friend. Their relationship (imagine having a relationship with a weapon) based upon mutual trust and understanding, developed over the course of a matter of hours, honed into what it was in just a matter of minutes. Now that it was done, a sense of utter tranquillity encapsulated the young woman, fine tuning her senses, allowing her to reach out with her mind and get a much better understanding of the bigger picture that they all found themselves in. Flitting across her lips briefly, a smile tempered her nearly perfect face. Peter! He had his head down as far forward as it would go, making it look like an act of submission to the psychopathic queen hovering over him from behind. It was clearly an act, because he was actually using his tongue to fiddle with the necklace that was always clasped around his neck. Janice's thoughts turned to how she could keep him safe when the time came. Through their all encompassing bond, Fu-ts'ang assured her that he would do everything in his power to protect the human shaped hockey player from harm, but reaffirmed that it wouldn't happen straight away. Prioritising was the key, and there were other targets that had to be taken care of first. With a better understanding than most of the true scale of what they were facing, Janice knew the deliverance of death and destruction was right. But would he last long enough for them to provide assistance?
Turning back to assigning targets in her mind, coordinating fully with Fu-ts'ang, she shuddered slightly at the thought of her love, defenceless and alone, against the magically charged witch that stood behind him. Something deep down inside her screamed that he'd be that woman's first objective. If that was the case, she couldn't see how on earth he'd survive. As this concept flowed through their link, Fu-ts'ang deliberately hid his thoughts on the subject, knowing that the young woman was almost certainly right. With all his experience and acumen though, he couldn't foresee another way to get the job done.
Breath held, magic poised, Richie soaked up as much power as she dared from the laminium dagger, stoking anger and rage, ready as she'd ever been to do battle. From two hundred or so metres away, she could make out friends and hear every conceited word Manson spat at what she assumed was the naga king. It made her blood boil, almost literally, with the ancient dragon DNA within shrieking at her to react. Feeling as though her skin was about to explode, that's how hard it was to keep a lid on her emotions, she knew, from taking in everything that had happened, that it was almost time to react. And react she would, to the best of her ability.
Although she couldn't see what he had planned, she could feel him shifting the magic within, preparing for whatever surprise he'd concocted. Pride at what he could, and no doubt would, accomplish made her chest swell. She would be his queen, and a more worthy king it was hard for her to imagine. Although their fates now seemed intertwined, unable to ever be separated, there was a part of her that would always belong to her deceased husband, no matter where she was or what she was doing. The very thought of him massaged the madness within her, like a fire being fuelled by oxygen. For her, that's how the descent into lunacy had started. Okay, she'd been a little unhinged before that, almost certainly stemming from the issues she'd had with her father. But that death, and the way that it had come about, had shattered her soul, driven any last shred of decency from her, forging her future, all paths leading to REVENGE and the here and now. When this planet and its inhabitants knew her pain, when they'd watched everything they so loved being forcibly taken away from them, and when they bowed to their king, her other half (she had difficulty in thinking of HIM as her husband), only then would her lust for revenge be sated. Only then could she rest. Knowing that these moments were only days away at most, the extraordinary power within her bubbled to the surface, easily accessible, ready to strike down the king's little pet in front of her. After that she'd seek the thrill and arousal that came with the lure of a full on killing spree. Joy only ever found her now at times like this.
Instinctively holding back his gag reflex, Peter sucked the alea into his mouth as the chain it was on nicked the back of his neck. Between the pain from that and the binders that he couldn't ever remember being without, tears leapt from both eyes, totally missing his cheeks, falling straight to the beautiful marble floor, splashing uncontrollably onto intricately carved letters of the ancient text. Breathing through his nose, head still as far down as it would go, he gripped the alea in between his teeth and prepared to bite down, all the time fighting off the fear that threatened to take him. At the front of his mind, the words that he needed stood out like a shining beacon in the middle of the night: "Amplificare Magicus Nunc." Knowing exactly what they meant, he hoped to hell they would... amplify magic now. Remembering Gee Tee's descriptions of how the alea's magic could go wrong, he wondered whether he would be saved or whether he would die horribly, possibly even taking his friends with him. In only a few moments he would find out, one way or the other.
Dragons behind him dived for cover as half a dozen sinister magic missiles scythed through the air towards him. Preparing to cartwheel out of the way, it was at that point that the ex-Crimson Guard noticed Fredric paralysed with grief, directly in the path of at least two of the projectiles. In the blink of an eye, the brilliant dragon switched tactics, commanding a wide ranging, pink tinged energy shield to spring into life, powered by the laminium chains crisscrossing his body, easily able to absorb the unusual supernatural attack that had been meant for them. Glancing over at Fredric, puzzled by what could have brought the great warrior to his knees, his thoughts turned to the threats that faced them here and now. In his mind at least, there was no bigger threat than the source of the attack he'd just thwarted. So enhancing his bounds and leaps with the magic from the chains, in a blur he headed straight for Manson, looking to exact more than a little payback for everything the evil, dark dragon had done.