Style Quest: Portal Pandemonium at the Concert

Varick took his spot behind the curtains with his violin in hand. He wore a version of his regular blue vest suit with extra sparkles. Quickly, the blonde Clydesdale cycled through a few magical costume changes. As Varick cycled from a dress back to his base outfit, a half-elf with rainbow hair walked up beside the mahogany horse.

 

“You going to try to upstage me again,” Silvyr asked over the crowd’s roar. Tickets sold out moments after the two announced themselves as the headliners of the charity concert for the Lyra Reconstruction fund. 

 

“Try would imply that I need to put effort into making you look bad,” Varick laughed as the curtains went up. Personal feelings for each other aside, the duo walked out to a roaring crowd.

 

As they launched into their first song, a strange pulse of magic rippled across the arena, silencing the crowd. A surge of lightning magic caused the magitech speakers to spark and explode. Covering his ears to protect himself from the feedback, Varick looked around to see several portals tearing into existence. Silvyr shouted something that wasn’t audible over the panicked screams of the crowd. A thath woman dressed in bright, multicolored clothing dropped from one of the portals.

 

“I am the famous Portal Posi and if you all will kindly surrender your valuables, I will go in peace,” the snake woman offers in a voice louder than her outfit. 

 

“I’m thinking no; how about you,” Varick answers, turning to Silvyr.

 

“There is only one of her,” Silvyr smiles as he twirls the microphone talisman in his hand. The energy around the portals began to spin faster as a smirk filled the thath woman’s face. 

 

“A true mastermind is never without her minions,” Posi cackles, holding her hands. Hundreds of spine robots with television heads flooded forth into the arena. Varick holds up five fingers as the crowd starts to scream and panic.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is battle strategy number five,” Silvyr sang into his microphone that still broadcasted despite the speakers no longer functioning. Quickly, the half-elf turned a microphone stand into a makeshift spear before he leaped off the stage to impale a robot through its television head.

 

“Here, take this and go get my bag,” Varick tells a nearby stagehand as he trades his violin for the guitar the worker had.

 

“Sir, we only brought one guitar for the whole tour,” the stagehand protests, still in shock.

 

“Then let’s hope it blows them away,” the blonde Clydesdale laughs as he wields the instrument like an axe. 

 

Several tv heads fall before the guitar breaks. Swearing, Varick activates an enchantment on his vest, creating illusionary clones of himself. Dodging and weaving through the crowd, the equine tailor started palming needles and throwing them to save civilians from the robots. The sky seekers, flaming piercers, and frozen slashers didn’t have much effect, but the earthen momentums shattered screens left and right. When those didn’t work, the taser touch enchantments in the cuffs of Varick’s shirt did the trick.

 

The microphone stand was not a proper spear, but it worked well enough to break the bots. Silvyr was able to help several audience members with a casual flair and his makeshift weapon’s superior reach. When the opening presented itself, a well-placed note with the half-elf’s microphone talisman shattered screens in a wide area. No matter how many bots fell, they kept coming from the portals as Varick and Silvyr fought their way to each other.

 

“There’s six of you now? I thought one was bad,” the elven singer scoffed as he stood back to back with the mahogany horse. 

 

“Yeah about that… duck,” Varick shouted as his mane and tail went up in blue and purple flames. There was barely time for Silvyr to take cover as all of the tailor’s illusionary duplicates exploded in fireballs matching his mane and tail.

 

“A little more warning next time, maybe,” the half-elf yelled before impaling a nearby television head that escaped the blasts. Already, new robots were pouring through the portal to replace the lost ones. “There’s no end to them!”

 

“Then let’s cut the head off the snake,” Varick chuckles as his bag lands at his hooves. Quickly, he reached in and pulled out his needle swords. He hands the one with a red thread tied through the eye to Silvyr. “Slot this into your ‘spear’ and follow me. I’ll clear a route then you strike her down.”

 

“I’m handling the bookings after this,” the elven performer growls as he slides the needle sword into the hollow of the microphone stand spear. Briefly, the sword lit up with blue and purple flame before turning into a lighting spearhead. “I can work with this.”

 

Quickly, Varick tied a brown thread through the eye of the sword he kept. An earthen katana-style blade appeared as the horse started cutting a path through the robots. Precise sword strikes and thrown needles drop the TV heads quickly. Silvyr guarded the rear of the approach using his new electrified weapon. Alongside his sonic attacks, the lightning spear easily made scrap metal of the attacks. Varick made the opening his teammate needed, but as the spear struck, it went right through Posi.

 

“Did we just get tricked by an illusion,” the Clydesdale sighed as he turned to drop a few more robots. Varick went to palm another needle to throw but found he was out. “Bad news, I’m running out of party tricks.”

 

“Too bad we can’t just shut down the portals somehow,” Silvyr grunted as he started to get swarmed. There was a moment when an idea hit Varick, but it was dangerous. However, it could be the only one they had.

 

“Silvyr, I need you to take me higher,” the equine tailor shouts as he looks around to ensure all the civilians have evacuated. “I can overload the enchantments in my vest. It should be a large enough magical burst to destabilize the portal.”

 

“I’m going to need more than a should,” the half-elf growled, pushing a few bots back.

 

“Just don’t look at it, or you’ll be blinded by the light show,” Varick smiled, holding his free arm up. 

 

Silvyr grabbed the arm and lifted the blonde horse into the air. An aimed sword throw knocks out a few more enemies as Varick starts to undo his vest. He struggles to get his arm free from the vest only to find a scrap of metal had pinned the outer layer to the shirt. 

 

“Could you squirm less? It’s difficult enough as it is lifting you,” Silvyr complained as he struggled to lift Varick higher. The equine tailor looked down at the swarming robots pouring from the open portals. If they could do that here, they could do it anywhere.

 

“Tell Raine that I love them and I’m sorry,” Varick shouted as he grabbed Silvyr’s hand. With a nod, he broke the grip and began to fall. A hand swipe across the vest activated all the spells inside, sending the garment into overload. “But this is my redemption song.”

 

“No! You idiot,” the half-elf yelled and tried to dive after the horse.

 

The bright burst of magic sent Silvyr hurtling through the air before he could make the grab. Temporarily blinded, all the elven performer could only hover in the air. As his vision returned to the scene before him, Silvyr could see all the portals destabilizing and closing, robots falling to the ground useless, and Varick lying on the ground with his clothes shredded and fur singed.

 

“Varick! Talk to me! Come on! Insult me or something,” Silvyr demanded as he landed beside the horse. A tear was about to come to the singer’s eyes when he saw a smile spread across Varick’s face. “Did you know you would survive that?”

 

“I may have safeguards to prevent my magic from being used against me, but that was more than tested them with,” the blonde Clydesdale answered with a cough as he sat up. He offered his hand to Silvyr. “Well, since we’ve been through battle and I’ve died and come back, what do you say? Friends?”

 

“Maybe,” Silvyr rolled his eyes as he shook the offered hand. The half-elf man promptly turned to walk. He needed a hot bath to wash this day off of him. Over his shoulder, he called, “Have a nice day.”