- 050 HP
- 040 EN
Clear Miasma
Haru coughs violently into his sleeves, eyes watering. Many things were happening all at once, and yet only one was brought violently to his attention: that fog. Everything about it caused his mind to fly into circles. It was fast acting, and from what he could see and smell it was beginning to corrode him entirely. What was this, some kind of acid? Haru had lived to understand dangers such as the one in the air right now, and yet it's nature was entirely out of his grasp.
--Perhaps it couldn't be understood.
A death-fog made by something supernatural. It seemed plausible, given his scenario. Still, what kind of bandit lair had ancient, incomprehensible horrors? He drew a few blanks trying to comprehend the setting, before violently crushing the train of thought in his mind. That wasn't important. The only thing on his mind now was how to utterly eradicate this unclean mist in his view.
If he thought of this thing as a spirit, the first likely case in an odd scenario such as this, he already had a countermeasure for the hazy threat created by these arms. Standing up, Haru simply holds his hands out wide, and forces his will upon the mist, calling out, "Be banished, miasma. You hold no place here!" The results were surprisingly effective. Along his field of view, from floor to ceiling, the thick fog ceased to exist, the sound of rushing wind echoing through the chamber as a vacuum takes hold of where it once was. Haru noted, with a feeling of disgust, that only the mist in his sight was removed, and the room soon once again filled up with fog, albeit thinner than before.
Tracker
Clear Miasma 1/3
Last edited: Feb 17, 2018