"I guess you're mine, then," Tristan thought as the sixth Pit Fiend charged towards him. He quickly formulated a plan, getting confirmation from the others that they understood their parts.

After four mental nods, he knelt to the ground, placed his hands flat on the ground, and bowed his head. As the Pit Fiend was almost upon him, three things happened almost simultaneously.

First, Tristan's arms came up, tapped his webshooters twice, and aimed directly at the Pit Fiend's eyes.

Second, the earth furies stirred, and a small ledge rose immediately before the Fiend's feet.

Finally, he leaped into the air, careful to avoid the Fiend's blind strikes. As he passed over the Fiend he revolved, facing his adversary's back. He finished with a swift kick, with both legs, right between its shoulder blades.

Tristan landed in time to see his enemy pitch forward into the ground, hands clawing at his eyes. He didn't stop when he reached it. His upper body, up to his waist, sank into a quagmire of liquified stone.

"Fuego!" Tristan barked, pointing his staff at the inverted foe. A wave of fire roared towards comically flailing legs. The watery stone sloshed as the surrounding stone contracted and the wave washed over it. While the inferno had little effect on the Fiend itself, the water in his impromptu swimming pool evaporated. As the blaze subsided, he was encased in an earthen shell almost as hard as diamond, though much less beautiful.

As the legs appeared to stop flailing, Tristan turned to see how the other battles were unfolding. "hehe, now he really is a pit fiend."