Time slowed down. The "Party Wipe" thought wasn't a joke. It was a fact. My M4 rifle was useless. My "Specialist" training had included zero modules on "How to fight a six-legged magical panther that teleports."
The Gore-Claw's claws—those scythe-like things—flexed. It was coiling its muscles for a killing pounce. I did the only thing I could. I squeezed my eyes shut and yelled something incredibly brave, like "NOPE!"
CLAAAAAAA-AAAAANG!
A sound like a high-speed car crash echoed in my ears. I didn't die. I opened my eyes.
The Knight-Princess was there. She was standing on the hood of my Humvee, her blue-white "flaming" sword wedged between the jaws of the Gore-Claw. She had intercepted the pounce mid-air. She was struggling, her muscles straining against the creature's immense weight.
"Mago-Bellum!" she screamed at me, her voice strained. (War-Mage!) "What are you waiting for?! Use your 'Tower' (Calamitas Turrim)! Destroy it!"
She thought... she thought I chose not to use the M2 Browning. She thought I was conserving mana.
"I-I can't!" I yelled back, fumbling with my rifle. "It's not my 'Tower'! It's... it's just a gun! Someone else is using it!"
Her face, a mixture of terror and exertion, flickered with... confusion. The Gore-Claw roared, snapping its jaws, forcing her back a step.
"Then do something!" she shrieked, her footing slipping on the metal hood. "It's too fast! We cannot hit it!"
She was right. I looked at the main battle. It was a disaster. The .50 Cal was just wasting ammo, spraying wildly, unable to track the other Gore-Claw that the Princess had been fighting. The third one—the one that had killed the private—was now stalking the perimeter, looking for another weak spot.
This was the classic "Raid Mechanic" designed to break a party. Three high-speed, high-evasion, 'Assassin' type bosses. They were "splitting the party" (making us fight 1v1) and "overwhelming the Tanks" (the Princess) and "bypassing the DPS" (the M2).
If this were a game, we'd all be yelling at each other on Discord right now. What's the counter? What's the counter to High Evasion?
My brain, fed by two decades of gaming, finally supplied the answer. You don't hit them. You stop them. You Control them.
"CC! We need CC!" I yelled.
"CC?!" the Princess grunted, parrying a claw that nearly took her head off. "What is 'CC'?!"
"Crowd Control! We need to 'Stun' it! Or 'Root' it! Or... just... make it stop moving!"
I turned to the Lieutenant, who was uselessly firing his pistol. "LIEUTENANT! TELL THE .50 CAL TO STOP AIMING AT THEM! IT'S A WASTE OF AMMO!"
"Then what do I tell him to shoot, Rogers?! You?!"
"TELL HIM TO SHOOT THE GROUND!" I screamed, pointing. "THE GROUND! IN FRONT OF THEM! MAKE A 'WALL' OF BULLETS! 'SUPPRESSING FIRE'! DON'T TRY TO KILL IT, JUST 'BOX IT IN'!"
The Lieutenant stared at me like I was insane. But the Princess... the Paladin... her eyes widened. She understood. She didn't know what "Suppressing Fire" was, but she understood "Tactics."
"DO IT!" she roared at the Lieutenant, in perfect, commanding English. "Listen to the War-Mage! DO IT NOW!"
The Lieutenant, stunned by her authority (or maybe just her existence), finally keyed his radio. "Gunnar! You heard her! Stop aiming! Just spray the dirt! Box 'em in! FIRE!"
The M2 Browning roared back to life. CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK! But this time, the gunner wasn't hunting. He was controlling. He aimed at the dirt in front of the Gore-Claw that was stalking the perimeter.
Fountains of dirt, rock, and shredded turf exploded into the air. The creature, which had been slinking left, was forced to jump right— CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK! —right into another stream of bullets.
It wasn't being hit. It was being herded. Like a sheepdog herding a very, very angry, six-legged wolf.
"It's working!" I yelled. The creature was now trapped, dodging in a small circle, unable to advance or retreat without running into a wall of .50 cal lead.
The Princess on my hood saw it. "My turn!" she snarled. She kicked the Gore-Claw she was fighting in the face, shoved it off the Humvee, and landed on the ground. She looked at me, her blue eyes blazing with a terrifying light. "War-Mage! Your 'Tower' (the M2) will hold (Suppress) the other two! You and I... we will finish this one!"
She pointed her flaming sword at the Gore-Claw she'd just kicked off the hood. ...It was getting up. ...It looked angry. ...And she had just included me in the "we."
Oh... I thought, my useless M4 feeling very small. This is the 'DPS check' part of the quest... and I'm the 'D'.