I made a quick little sketch of Endi. It's not very good but I wanted to visualize him

Warnings: Gore

     ~3rd P.O.V.~

All motion ceases as mob an person alike turn to stare at the Wither Hybrid, floating carelessly above the entrance to the fortress. A shiver runs down the spines of the six white gems, and instinctively every mob takes a step or two back, terrified by the deathly figure.

A light grey sleeveless muscle shirt drapes loosely over his lean figure, and a pair of baggy maroon pants cover his legs. Charred black bones jut out from just over his wrists, bending forward and narrowing into a sharp point reaching well past his fingers. Three pairs of rib like bones spread out from between his shoulder blades, one pair curving up above shoulders, and the other two snaking under his and around his torso, all six of them facing the centre of his chest. A Mohawk of black hair with a single white streak near the front stands erect from his head, slightly drooping at the top, the hair unable to withstand the forces of gravity. His eyes are a hollow, endless black, with two thin white slitted pupils. Below his cheekbones the skin on his face abruptly ceases in stringy ends, revealing a toothless jaw of black bone, seeming to be etched into a permanent frown despite having no muscles or lips. Two smaller black skulls float by his head, each with one black and one glowing white eye. A golden key with a ruby red gem in the centre hangs from his neck, the glow of nearby lava glinting of its lustrous surface. A black aura that screams death falls off him in a gentle mist, and a nearby spider walks through it, instantly shrivelling up in a spasming ball on the ground.

"Well? What are you idiotic mobs waiting for? Att-"

Plauge doesn't even get to finish his sentence before Mitch leaps into the air, firing off three consecutive arrows. Plauge barely moves an inch, and the two skulls floating beside him spit out balls of condensed wither, blowing two of the arrows to pieces. The third Plauge catches in his fist.

"Pathetic." He rasps, tossing it away. "You're going to have to try a little harder than that."

Jaw unhinging, a breath of what can only be described at pure death seeps from his mouth, gliding rapidly over the baked earth. It swerves around mobs, making its way directly towards his nearest foes, which happen to be Preston and Vikk. In an instant Preston melts into a puddle of lava, seeping down into the cracks littering the ground, vanishing far beyond the reach of the toxic breath. Vikk morphs on the spot, curling down into a solid grey stone, and the wither breath brushes harmlessly up against his smooth sides. Failing to affect Vikk, the cloud of black smog shifts and sails directly towards Mitch, who is soaring overhead. With a powerful beat of his wings, Mitch sends a gust of wind to counter the smog, dispelling it with ease.

All at once the mobs resume their attack, surging forwards in a tidal wave of angry cries, the wither skulls from Plauge blasting deadly shots to cover their advance. Rob fires off a series of spells, impaling one mob here, freezing another there. For the most part he attempts to preserve them, knowing that if and when they can slay Plauge, Vikk May have a chance of controlling the mobs once they are released of their mind control. A ravager comes thundering towards Rob from behind, horns lowered to impale the unsuspecting mage as he continues to neutralize mobs left and right.

Lachlan, seeing this blue hoodies stranger about to become a mage-kababh, quickly thrusts his diamond swords through the belly of hissing creeper, and then extends one arm like a noodle to grip the horn of the charging beast. Reeling himself in, he straddles the beasts back, tightly gripping its other horn and snapping its head to the side. The mob changes direction, missing Rob and instead plowing through a cluster of mobs, before bucking wildly and throwing Lachlan to the dirt. Coughing, the wind knocked out of him, Lachlan just barely roles out of the way as the hooves of the ravaged come crashing down where his head should be. He spits out a mouthful of blood, shakes his head, and raises his sword. Before the ravager has a chance to recollect itself, Lachlan stabs the sword into its skull, blood spurting out as the creature collapses.

Meanwhile, Vikk and Preston have teamed up to completely obliterate any opposing mobs, focusing on killing them rather than trapping them. Preston splits down and creates twelve identical clones of himself, each a twelfth of his size. Heating up his skin to the point where it begins to drip and sets fire to whatever block he steps on, Preston herds groups of mobs into circles, no mob keen on getting to close to the lava creeper. A few creepers attempt to explode to get rid of Preston's clones, but after his lava splatters across the ground, he simply reforms, continuing on his way. Skating a ring of fire around each group of mobs he rounds up, Vikk will then morph into a bat, fly above the mobs, and then swiftly turn into a huge bolder. As he crashes down to the earth, crushing mobs and sending shards of bones and blood splattering everywhere, Preston will dart away, funnelling more mobs towards Vikk. This constant morphing sends waves of pain ripping through Vikk, but as he glances as sees his comrades continuing their blood battle, it encourages him to do the same, and he pushes on.

Overhead, Mitch engages Plauge one on one, taking himself with attempting to kill the wither hybrid. Phantoms, ghasts, and wither blasts render his ranged attacks useless, so he decides to swoop in close, holding a diamond sword in hand as he engages Plauge. He swings relentlessly, the two dancing through the air as Mitch swipes, Plauge blocks with his rib like bones, and then fires a blast at Mitch, forcing him to duck away. He pours every last bit of strength and energy he has into attacking Plauge, but it's no use. It's almost as if Plauge is toying with him. Every time Mitch gets close Plauge effortlessly dodges his attacks, and Mitch nearly gets blasted in the face by a wither skulls more times than he's comfortable with. Throat searing as he pants, Mitch flutters back, glaring daggers at Plauge as he desperately gasps for air, to which Plauge only smirks in return. I can't do this alone. He's too dang skilled.

Jaw unhinging, another cloud of thick black wither breath seeps towards Mitch, blocking Plauge from sight. Mitch beats hard with his wings, dispersing the smog only to find Plauge two blocks away from his face. Eyes widening, Mitch dives, just narrowly avoiding his throat being jabbed through with one of Plauge's long black hand spikes. The spike instead scratches his arm, tearing through his checkered hoodie and scraping the length of his bicep. Mitch screams in agony, the shallow cut searing with indescribable pain, and he drops his sword which clangs to the ground below. The cut is not enough to kill, but it sure hurts like the Nether. Plauge takes on the offensive, arms jabbing out, Mitch just barley managing to avoid his swift attacks as tears cloud his vision. Suddenly, he finds himself with Plauge in front of him, and his skulls positioned on either side. Mitch's eyes quickly, desperately, scan around him for a way out that does not involve free falling into a mosh pit of mobs or being blasted to pieces. He catches Robs eye, who quickly asses the situation points at the ground. Oh thank Notch.

Just as Plauge lunges forward, and the skulls fire, Mitch pins his wings to his side and drops from the air like a rock. Robs hands fly out and a white aura surrounds Mitch, suspending him mid air. The blasts from the skull end up slamming into Plauge, who lets out the ghastly wail of a wither boss as he is hit. The explosion rings out, and his body goes sailing into a pool of lava nearby. The explosion goes relatively unnoticed, although Mitch and Rob internally celebrate as his form sinks below the surface, two of his ribs blown off and a chunk of his skull missing. Rob releases Mitch, and he sails to on overhanging ledge, taking a breather.

But strangely, the mobs continue fighting. Rob and Mitch exchange a confused glance, brows furrowed. Plauges skulls float over to the lava, hovering over it as suddenly bubbles begin to push up through the surface. Their hearts sink as Plauge crawls out, laughing maniacally. His skin is almost totally burnt off, including his clothes and hair, revealing his black charred bones. Blisters and burns cover what little skin remains, and he rises back into the air, the key on his neck glinting in the lavas light.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." He chides, picking off a piece of blood caked skin that drops over his eye. "You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?"

As Rob and Mitch recollect themselves to team up against Plauge, Jerome fights on the ground alongside Lachlan, Vikk, and Preston. Roaring in fury, Jerome tears through his enemies, cutting them down with Betty like twigs as they advance. His fur dripping with all sorts of blood, not just including his own, Jerome is truly a terrifying sight to behold. He swings Betty in a large arch, slicing clean through three witches, splattering even more blood onto the ground as their severed heads roll across the ground. He turns on his head, growling as he cuts a zombie open from shoulder to hip, it's stomach and intestines spilling on the ground. A phantom swoops down form overhead and Jerome catches it, tearing its wings from its body with a snarl and throwing it into a pool of lava. A ravager charges Jerome head on, and Jerome simply catches it by the horns, only being driven a few blocks back before bracing his feet and swinging to behind him into a rapidly approaching charges creeper, guts flying through the air as it explodes. From behind a silverfish jumps up and sinks it's fangs into Jerome's lower arm. He roars, screaming in the insects face and blasting it to pieces as the sound waves are amplified by his power of strength.

Plauge, who has several broken bones, hears the roar. Despite maintaining a cocky aid about him, he internally knows this fight is almost over. Gasping raggedly, he ducks under an energy blast from the pesky mage, a plan hatching in his mind as his last impacting move, that will hopefully put an end to all this and spare his master the trouble of fighting these imbeciles himself. Wheezing out another cloud of wither, he sends out a skull in the baccas direction. Mitch blows away the smog like he's done several times before but neither he, Rob, or anyone else notices the skull flying off into the thick of the fight. Plauge snickers, landing a punch on the winged boys arm, and he shrieks in pain, retreating to a ledge high above the battle.

Lachlan turns this way and that, limbs stretching, sword slicing, and heart beating as he slays a seemingly endless amount of mobs. Sweat pours down his face, his muscles screaming in protest as he drives his sword through the ribcage of a wither skeleton, sending it to the ground. He reaches down to retrieve it, thankful for a momentary break in the onslaught of mobs. But, to his despair, he finds his very last sword stuck fast in the dead mob.

"S***" He curses under his breath, eyes darting around.

His eyes land on an iron sword in the hand of a slain zombie, roughly forty blocks away. He ducks under a sailing arrow, sprinting towards the abandoned weapon. As he runs, bending around lunging mobs, Jerome just so happens to back into him, attempting to avoid a ghasts fireball. The two collide, stumbling back.

"Watch it!" Lachlan snaps, anger swelling inside him at the sight of the bacca.
"Me watch it?" Jerome snarls back, offhandedly punching a skeletons face in, "You're the one who ran into me!"

And so, it as these two argue, voices and anger rising, and everyone else preoccupied with fighting, and Plauge breathing his last few breaths, that one of Plauges skulls float up behind the bickering duo. In fact it is only Mitch, who is still perched up above the battle, nursing his injured arm that sees the skull preparing to fire a blast at close quarters to his childhood best friend. Jerome is in the middle of shouting an insult at Lachlan when the prince glances over his shoulders, eyes widening as he sees the skull there. The prince, in an act of self preservation, instantly dives to the side covering his head. Jerome, his stomach sinking, whirls around just as the skull fires off a blast. It's all he can do to duck and brace for impact, expecting nothing but darkness to follow. Instead a rattling force slams into him from the side, and Jerome goes rolling several blocks across the ground, sustaining several cuts and scrapes and hearing the sickening crunch of his ribs crushing. But it is not the landing that takes his breath away. No. As the skull falls dead to the ground, and all the mobs simultaneously stop fighting, what takes Jerome's breath away is the limp figure of Mitch, lying not twenty blocks away in his place.

~~~
Question of the chapter:

What part of the fight was your favourite?