Fall Back!

a topic in Orsa of Terminus, a part of the RPG forum.

The lull in the war has ended, and the Orsa of Terminus is on the rise once more. Will the battle hardened Patronus remain strong, or fall under the growing might of this renewed threat? A mature roleplay. This forum is one large roleplay within a set world and designated story lines.

Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vejisama on Sun Apr 03, 2011 8:51 pm

(Post written by Vejisama and Tiko)

As was expected, The Crimson Menace found himself gingerly striding toward this 'area' he'd been told to arrive at. Hand at his side, moreso on that tainted blade of his, his strides grew more confident with each step, seeings as in the near distance, he could hear the sounds of battle transpiring. Whatever lingered upon his mind? Nothing. Nothing in the least, surprisingly. No anticipation. No glee. No emotional attribute in the least. Simply, the lure of the battle. The after effects are what he sought. Powerful beings to contend with. Spill their blood in a cataclysmic battle, and grow stronger during the midst. It was the goal. The call of the effect that comes about after. If anything, he felt hardpressed to arrive rather quickly, which is why each step had become lengthier than the last, a quicker pace set about them.

And, as was in his persona, not a single word slipped forth from his mouth in his pursuit to arrive at the action.

A black mist began to seep up from the ground several paces ahead of Kazura, slowly forming into the solid figure of a Celestial being. Though, there was nothing divine about this creature, only a sickening sense of wrongness. It was a hollow shell, animated by the Sealed One's will and nothing more.

As it spoke, its voice rung out with all the clarity that Aurion once possessed in life, only with a ruthless indifference for the lives that hung in the balance before himself and Kazura.

“The Master is pleased, and so too shall you be. All within are yours for the slaughter,” he stated simply, accenting heavily on the word all. With that, he took his leave once more, in the same manner as his arrival. So abrupt was his arrival and departure, it was hard to say if he had been there at all, or if it were merely a fleeting vision.

Coming to a stop, Kazura watches in disinterest as the dark entity swirls to life before him. The words spoken fell unto ears that could have cared less. The only thing that caught his attention was the word Master. Clearly, Kazura found humor in that, for a twinge of a sinster smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Never, never, would Kazura consider any Master. Not even this dark being pulling the strings. And, in time, they'd learn, there were no strings to pull on Kazura...for if any were laid upon him, they'd be cut instantaneously.

Slaughter, that was the second word that was paid attention to. Indeed, he'd do so. And what more that this being said that all were within his reach. Friend or foe was not recognized here. With a sudden snicker upon his face, he didn't care now who came within that reach. If they were within his way, they'd perish, simple as that...

"Very well..." He smoothly states to himself, passing through the area that this entity thusly vanished from, his direction a straight path to the chaos beyond.

And it didn't take him long to arrive upon the scene. Before him happened a great ruined monastery, his eyes lingering on it for a moment before rising above it. With a great mighty leap, he ascends into the sky, only to elegantly land upon a jutting structure at its most highest point, ruined and crumbling it may have been, but solid enough to support him. Above, the sky began to darken as usual, clouds blanketing all around, a few spots for heavens light to pass through. Eyes cast down below, he spies the battle going on. Such was a chaotic scene indeed.

Golems, cultists, wolves, and monstrous creatures beneath the ground. It was all a mind numbing vision. Narrowing his eyes, he easily began to discern who was Patronus, and who was not. It wasn't hard to pick apart the less shady looking ones from those that permeated evil, or...what they wished could be evil. Kazura happened to be quite judgmental.

"...Fools running amok, and puppies trying to play?An eye beneath the ground, tentacles spewing about. This is all that is available? This is meant to stop the righteous?" He mutters, slipping his arms out to either side, his sleeves snapping to attention to hang about his wrists. "This is nothing..." He coo's, suddenly taking to the skies once more.

Through the air the crimson haired one careens, descending with mad haste to land upon the ground amidst those in the battle, downing on one knee as the skies above now begin to bleed crimson within the obsidian clouds. His hand upon the ground, knee as well, he slowly rises to his fit form, straightening his outfit with a lash of his clawed hands.

"This is not war, this is childs play..." He finally chants, slowly drawing Onikussaiga.

"The darkness is always more sinister...When there is no light to guide you." ~ Vegeshin Kanahashi'

"Once, I looked upon the new morning; felt its warm touch; took in the cool crisp air, and made a note to do with it what I could not the day before." Hushed words spoke. "Now, I look upon the dawn and see it for what it is. Fire on the horizon." ~ Vexion Kanahashi'

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gasmask on Wed Apr 06, 2011 12:51 am

(Post written in conjunction with Tiko.)
The purple toxin that swamped the area like iradiated energy forced the Crone into action against her own group, seeing them as enemies and equally threating forces all vying for control of her very soul. The Crone was suffering from a fit of insanity, throwing violent blasts of energy at her own foes and at random places around the ruins, causing a shower of stone and blood to coat the ground or anybody standing amongst the ruins. One of the Crone's errant violent blasts heading for Natalie.

The Crossbowmen fought it out with the surviving mages, the unloaded crossbows being used as blunt tools to crack skulls and smash ribcages. Former friend turned against fellow believers of the terrible gods. Each cultist refusing to back down, they were convinced they were in the right killing what they saw, unknowingly killing their own friends and even family. It was grim, even by Cultist standards.

The rolling purple clouds were the omen of something much more threatening to the Patronus side; apart from the Crimson Menace himself.

The dread constructs crawled into the purple miasma from the shadowy night, the drooling abominations taking deep breathes of the purple smog, it did not affect them one ounce.

The first Homunculus burst out of the clouds suddenly and landed with a soft and squelching thud. Accompanied by a wild swipe of its crudely forged steel reinforced claws aimed upwards to gouge and cut Aliana's face as strange harsh whispers escaped its gaping, teeth lined mouth, the wriggling leeches and bugs escaped from the multiple facial cavities.
The creature-thing wasn't playing; it wanted death and to bring its masters cruel desires to culmination.

In a maneuver to evade the Homunculus' sudden appearance and wild swings, Luriel dove to Aliana's right hand side. Keeping her primary hand at ready to parry if need be, she came out of her tumble and fluidly rose to her feet while spinning in place to remain facing Aliana. Matching the Homunculus' attacks, the dark-elf lashed out with her left hand blade in a horizontal slash towards Aliana's right side.

The other undead beast let out a thick and long tongue that coated in a disgusting combination of boils and makeshift steel spikes. The drooling appendage curled around the stone ruins, the tongue looking for prey as if it was a seperate creature and found none, instead laying in wait for anything further.
Tiko says:
I still wanna punch him in the face
Mid says: Gas 1, Mid 0.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gasmask on Wed Apr 06, 2011 1:10 am

The guardian of the gate screamed an ear-drum shattering screech as the fires consumed the unblinking eye, the toxic smell of bubbling fluids filled the air as the outer-god continued to scream and the tentacles wreathed about as it whipped them up again blindly and then down under the cracks. The iridescent globes of toxic blood that burst forth from the tentacles, Yog-Sothoth was stubborn as any human but more mentally trying than any other beast, for to see it or learn too much about it is to romance disaster. The forbidden-thing retreated for now, hiding beneath a thicker layer of crust to flee Sylvire's flames.

The banishing of it from this world was supposedly impossible, but to actually bring this creature into the world from the realms of chaos and the depravities of the mental condition was equally lethal. Such a ritual required the soul of a being which was either sacrificed or forced into eternal service.

The collection of rocks that formed a constricting tomb that was wrapped around the damaged body of Lucien were rumbling lightly, groaning at Lucien's very touch. The corrupted husk that protected the equally malign mind spat blood across the surfaces that touched either side of his face, wiping his mouth of the salty flavored liquid with his tongue, it changed the earth around him. Just like it had earlier but of a smaller range.

This change caused the layers of rock around him to stop responding to any artefact command, now not being of any natural element. This worked both against and with Lucien, encasing him in layers of eldritch rock.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tiko on Tue Apr 12, 2011 4:04 pm

(post co-written by Tiko, Imehal, Parabola, Arrow and Vejisama)

The sounds of the shouts and fighting within the thick miasma were more than enough to allow Rynhart to pinpoint the brunt of the enemies numbers. Lifting his head high once more, he inhaled deeply as a deep purple coalescing energy began to build within his mouth. Exhaling forcefully, the crackling chaos bolt descended upon the rabble on the ground with explosive results, enough to crater the ground and send cultists sprawling to the earth, many unlikely to rise again. Though not before a lone energy bolt flew free from the thick miasma.

The shield around Natalie stopped the errant purple blast effortlessly, her narrowed eyes sweeping from the potentially devastating assault on the remnants of Lucien's minions to the unfortunate Aliana, who was under attack from two separate assailants. Quickly assessing that the unfamiliar bard was likely more ally than foe after her uplifting tirade, a hand rose in that direction, glowing faintly with magic as another shield brought itself about Aliana, oval in shape.

As the homunculus swung into Aliana's field of vision, the bard reacted with honed reflexes to swiftly propel herself backwards with a push, jumping away and lifting the brightly shining sword defensively. The creature's wild attack fell short of the flame-haired bard, but Luriel's swift movement left her struggling to react to it swiftly enough.

However, thankfully for Aliana, the appearance of Natalie's shield saved her yet another gash for the evening, Luriel's blade bouncing off of the magic. In retaliation, Aliana swung her blade downwards and to the side, spinning to angle herself towards the dark elf assassin. The glowing sword was aimed to strike Luriel right across the chest, from shoulder to hip. The resounding clang of metal against metal echoed as the blow struck Luriel's right hand blade, raised to parry the attack. Size for size, Aliana's weapon had more weight and force, and the dark-elf skidded back as the blow pushed her into a crouch.

As Luriel darted away from her parry, Aliana had no intention of staying standing still - certainly not with a flailing homunculus still very much on her case. Sidestepping away from another strike from the creature, Aliana placed herself slightly to its side. The bard drew her arm back and with a cry thrust the iridescent sword forwards at whatever passed as the creature's throat. Once her thrust had extended to its full length, connected or not, she then took another step, angled to bring her further towards the back of the undisciplined creature. Drawing her sword inwards, she slipped down into a half-crouch, and drew the weapon out in an arc aimed to scythe across the back of the creature's leg.

Rising away from her fluid strike, weaving together sword-forms like a dance, when Aliana stepped back from the homunculus she was already channeling her bardic magic. Violet light beginning to project from her towards the creature, a pure and powerful note with accentuated vibrato echoing from her mouth. As the music resonated around the area, the light would wash over the homunculus and cling to it like glue, with an effect much the same. Every motion it took would be as if it were moving through a thick soup, the ground seeming to suck onto its limbs and make them difficult to lift as the slow spell took effect.

Now realising that she had arrived in the midst of a fighting retreat, Aliana decided that it was perhaps the wrong time for a 'hold the line' speech, and instead took a leaf from the book of the group of allies she had stumbled across -- turning away from the hopefully disabled homunculus, she broke into a run in the direction of the monastery as Kazura arrived.

In that direction, closer to the building itself, the retreat of the demon and the apparent disappearance of Kaelan - however temporary each of these things might be - gave Sylvire confidence that she and Elante could afford to move on to aiding the other Patronus, who from this high vantage point the sorceress-dragon could see were suffering. The arrival of an ominously familiar face did not bode well for them at all.

'Elante - we go to help the others. Fly ahead, I will make my way around, and we can catch any enemies in a pincer movement.' Sylvire projected to the young mage.

Elante looked down on the rubble that had crushed Lucien for a moment before nodding wordlessly. With a graceful beat of celestial wings, he dropped from Sylvire's back and glided swiftly towards the Patronus' attempted retreat to do his best to provide them with cover. The wings allowed him to cross the distance quickly, and before more than a few seconds had passed Elante was topping a structure on the edge of the fight with a careful landing.

"Go! Get to the monastery, we'll cover you!" he shouted, even as he raised his arms with cracking magic dancing along their length. The bracers lit up, and from each hand shot a forking strike of lightning. The first would spear towards Kazura, and the second towards the homunculus that had struck at Aliana. When they met their targets, the bolts would swiftly jump from them to other nearby foes - directed by Elante's focus, rather than chaotic and with risk of friendly fire, the second bolt would jump to Luriel whilst the first crackled to any of Lucien's demons that remained standing. The initial lightning strikes carried with them all the power of any artefact strike, but between each jump the magnitude decreased accordingly.

While Elante struck at the enemies from head on, Sylvire used the distraction to swoop around the localised battlefield in a wide arc. The majestic dragon swung around over the forest to dive downwards once again, blazing out of the sky with a fearsome roar to land amidst the Crone and her allies in an explosion of shattered stone as claws met ground. Her tail whipping around to buffet and break the bones of a number of the confused and disordered cultists, Sylvire spread her jaws wide to pour a torrent of white hot fire forth onto the Crone and her mages, turning the very rock they walked on into a bubbling mass of molten liquid and spreading outwards in a consuming wave.

As the group arrived at the monastery building, Rynhart and Alair were once again engulfed in a billowing cloud of purple and what staggered out from it was the familiar elven form of Rynhart, still supporting Alair. Though his draconic form had slowed the onset of the wolves venom, it hadn't been purged fully from his system, and the rapid onset of symptoms would have him in no better shape than Alair if they didn't get inside.

“Help get him inside,” he requested, his hardened eyes falling on Ziel. In his current state, the half-breed wouldn't be capable of walking on his own, that much was apparent. It would likely take the two of them to keep him upright at all, let alone get him upstairs to the Library.

Before the monastery, Ziel's eyes fall upon Rynhart's just as he and Alair arrived. Those cool aquamarine hue's seemed rather amiss, the events transpiring ebbing at Ziel's mind. He'd seen wars, indeed, but not like this. What he had just witnessed put the previous wars he'd been in...in a much lesser category. But as Rynhart's works came forth, it shook Ziel from his mild daze, the elder being suddenly nodding. "Very well. That is a task simple enough." He states, coming forth to slip his figure beneath the halfling, helping support the weight.

The golem entourage halted just behind those who had already arrived, Parlina stepping off the lowered earthen hand, Javelin held tightly in her grip as she turned to attempt to hoist Kento to his feet, planting her feet solidly in the deep, unsettled snow. His wounds, known to her, made the druid hasty to get him inside, spirits telling her frantically so very many things at once.

Shush!” she snapped, waving a hand as if to dismiss them. Instead, what occurred was a flurry of air around Kento, used to support his weight just enough so that Parlina was capable of putting his good arm around her shoulder and guide his unconscious form, albeit slowly, into the monastery. Her forward gaze never faltered, but she was more than aware that the others were in need of aid, peridot eyes oddly stoic, cheerfulness forced down. They needed her to be strong and even if it took all her willpower, she would give her friends that.

As they all disappeared into the building, the golems took point outside. It would take only a thought from the druid to provoke the earthen constructs into hostile action. The spirits knew friend from foe well enough.

Breathing heavily, grime and sweat clinging to her body, Aliana reached the monastery with her hair practically plastered to her face. Her mundane sweatshirt and jeans were torn and bloodied, and blood was dripping down from her back. As the adrenaline of taking part in active combat started to fade, the pain started to take its place, and there was a hell of a lot of it there. Giving the golems only a cursory glance, Aliana staggered up the steps of the monastery after where she had seen the group of Patronus disappear to on her approach.
I've moved on. If anyone stumbles on any of my old roleplays or wants to hit me up for nostalgia sake, feel free to shoot me an e-mail me at RPGTiko@gmail.com or hit me up on http://www.storytellerscircle.com. Good luck RolePlaygateway.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vejisama on Tue Apr 12, 2011 5:19 pm

Crimson occulars continued to span the area around. A sudden flicker of light caught his gaze and his head turns to take in the site of a searing static charge of lightning driving toward his figure. With narrowed eyes, his first thought was to pull forth Onikussaiga and simply deflect the bolt away from his form, but as the careening lightning continued for him, he opted for a different approach, something that may grant him a favorable outcome.

In a flash, cold alloy is pulled forth from its sheath, spun, and then driven in the ground before him, the lengthy blade standing a foot shorter than he. The squared alloy upon the bottom of the handle should prove as a perfect conductor. With that, Kazura's figure suddenly begins to flicker in and out of sight before he seemingly vanishes from sight altogether.

Brutal calculation was now enacted, Kazura's wardrobe all aflutter. Eyes that were malicious quickly Zero'd in as a steady arm drew back. Upon each fingertip suddenly came to glow inch diameter spheres, each one crimson in color, and nearly opaque. With a sudden vicious swing, Kazura rapidly releases the spheres from his fingertips, each one careening through the air on steady paths toward Elante. Each sphere held explosive capabilities, possessing not only impact damage ramifications, but holding the ability to burn victims caught in the wake of the explosion.

With his first move executed, his eyes then came to land upon the other Patronus members, and then the other Orsa members, and finally they caught of a creature within the skies. A dragon. Narrowing his eyes, he began to calculate in his mind the absurdities that made up this 'war'. Never before had he seen such things. Needless to say...he was still unimpressed. It only ocurred to him, he'd have to be slightly more serious...

Once upon the ground, his impact upon the ground sending dust in all directions, he turns in place, a hand outstretched. From the ground in the distance, Onikussaiga began to quiver, lurching from its place in the terran dirt. Through the air it travels, only to collide with Kazura's outstretched palm. Without even a second to spare, Kazura spins upon heel, the edge of Onikussaiga beginning to glow a rather ominous crimson. His spin carries him to careen around, lashing his blade out toward the ruins, an illuminated, massive, crescent arc of energy departing from the blade. It hurls through the air on a collision course with the ruins, intent on utter destruction and death.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Arrow on Tue Apr 12, 2011 5:26 pm

(Post co-written by Moonscar, Conumbra and Arrow)

Marxan sighed, as he flew through the air away from the plateau where his comrades were currently engaged in battle. In truth, he didn't trust a lot of them, the jester in particular, but they had proven themselves competent in battle, and so he fought with them for now. Besides, they were an ample opportunity for him to improve his strength and that was a benefit no matter where it came from.

When he had left them, the satellite hadn't managed to hit the Butcher on the initial approach, but Marxan had managed to use his abilities to divert it enough to get a glancing blow. However they were being overwhelmed by the dark creatures flooding in from who knows where, and it was likely they had already evacuated and set off the radiation bomb. They of course had a backup location, but it would take weeks to move the building to the new site after the creatures had cleared out. It would take a while without Marxan's help, but he had to help his other set of comrades first. After all, for all he knew the whole universe could rest on him being there.

He went flying on for a few more seconds, that is, until he saw the flashes of magic off in the distance. Oh no, looks like Sylvire was under attack as well as the others. He'd be shot down on site if he continued flying for much further onwards, so he hurriedly set himself down on a side-road, where he could approach the battle unseen. Trying his best to make as little sound as possible, he made his way along the path, unaware of any others approaching the ruins.

The jolting and jerking of the bone golem's steps rather clearly outlined the reasons why it wasn't generally used as a method of transport, but beggars and more notably those being pursued by undead hordes couldn't be choosers. Kirae's knees and wrists were protesting the twisting around they were being subjected to as the Sylvari clung to jutting sections of the golem for purchase, but she didn't have time to worry about her discomfort.

Beside her, the person who she was worrying about lay frighteningly still, fastened down by hastily fashioned ribs grown from the top of the golem. Arrow's breathing was light and laboured, and his flesh badly charred. Kirae wished not for the first time that she had studied the areas of necromancy that addressed regeneration, but her own innate rapid healing had meant that it was never a priority for her.

"Oh, Sir Arrow, hang in there. We should be reaching your allies soon." she said softly, clutching the young man's arm tightly through his mail. The small girl looked up to where Narruk ran beside the golem. She was glad that the giant had managed to escape the battle unscathed - with his help she was confident that she could defend Arrow from any further assault. "How are you holding up, Sir Narruk?" Kirae called over the rush of the cool night air.

"Quite well, considering," Narruk responded, his voice gnarling.

As the pair ran down the winding road that led to the ruins, the golem making any attempt at stealth entirely futile, Kirae spotted a figure from a side-road moving towards them. "Narruk!" she called, "To our right!"

To this, the giant turned as swiftly as he could, empty eyes veering at the figure. As always, he was unblinking, which would have given most normal people a worm in the gut. Narruk took a step forward so that he was standing in front of the Golem. He hefted his staff, ready for an attack.

Hands lighting aglow with necrotic magic, the sylvari halted the golem and turned it to face the oncoming figure. "Who goes there?" she shouted, "Identify yourself!"

Blast it all, he had been caught, but was it friend or foe. He couldn't recognize the voice, perhaps it was a Patronus he hadn't met yet. His business concerning his other friends had left little time for meeting other Patronus, let alone battle beside them as conrades. Of course, this could be an Orsa he hadn't met as well. Caution was mandatory in this situation, and so he stepped out calmly from the side-road facing Kirrae and Narruk.

Realizing that his skin was still see-through and that they'd probably attack him on site with the way he looked at that moment, Marxan shot the two worms living symbiotically in his arms towards the ground. Once impacting the ground, the two of them both ingested a small chunk of rock. At that moment, Marxan gained telekinetic control over all rocks and metals, and so covered himself in a layer of craggy rocks, with a metal vein running through them. His hands were completely covered by the metal vein and his fingers ended in sharp points.

However, he realized this form was also a little frightening, so he raised his hands above his head in the universal gesture for "It's okay, I won't attack you". Then he spoke up, addressing their question. "My name is Marxan Green of the Patronus. Am I to trust you are also of the Patronus? I don't believe we have met."

"It would appear not." Kirae replied, golden eyes surveying Marxan. The man didn't seem like any of the people that Arrow had mentioned to her, but he wasn't being hostile. The Sylvari didn't trust him, but there wasn't time to negotiate. "We don't have time to talk." she said, "I am Kirae, and this is Narruk. We are friends of Arrow, of the Patronus also, and we need to get to a monastery to find the others. He is wounded and requires aid. Join us if you want to, but I will be keeping an eye on you!"

As if to illustrate that he would be keeping two (and at the same time zero) eyes at Marxan, the giant turned his eyeballess stare to Marxan, mouth partly open to reveal those sharp teeth. In reality, the optics were gracing the man's body, trying to figure out if he had any tricks hidden up those earthen sleeves.

Marxan stared into Narruk's eyeless stare, seeing the sharp teeth. It made him shiver but he understood what the message was for. They didn't trust him, and probably would never trust him until he fought by their side.

Without further ado, Kirae placed a hand down on the golem once again, and it jerked back into motion.

As they drew close to the ruins, the crashing footsteps of the golem would become audible to those within - though a loud explosion ahead would probably make them hard to identify. Kirae started in shock at the blast and the roaring that she heard, scowling. "It looks like there is a battle here also, Sir Narruk!" she called. "We must make straight for the monastery! Sir Arrow cannot wait for us to break through the ranks of our enemies!"

"Understood," said the giant, grasping his staff firmly within one hand, activating the magic that made the cobwebs glow and burn.

Marxan nodded to affirm Kirae's statement. From the looks of things Arrow appeared to be gravely injured. He wished he knew something that could help, but all he knew of his abilities that could help would be to cauterize the wounds of rehydrate the person, neither of which would probably work in this situation. Kirae had a point then; they would have to try and avoid the enemies while getting Arrow to the monastery, not an easy task with only the 3 of them.

"You're right, if we wait much longer he's liable to expire. Keep going, I can feel the ground around us so hopefully I'll sense if we're about to be attacked before we see anything."

Slowing the golem to a pace where its footsteps no longer crashed quite so loudly, Kirae directed it forwards towards the towering structure of the monastery at a slow but steady pace. Wary, the Sylvari kept a close eye on the ruins around them. Such buildings could conceal any number of stealthy foes, even if the force of the battle was elsewhere.

The giant followed in the same tracks, close behind the Golem that carried little Kirae. The point of the staff jutted forward, and the one last talking head upon it cackled softly. "Keep your eyes sharp...and your magic sharper!" It hissed, bobbling up and down on the staff by its hair. However, the head was doing much more than babbling away...it was searching for the faint scents of foreign magic around it, sniffing, breathing it all in...
It would be an immensely sneaky Orsa member to try and ambush them now.

Marxan moved with Kirae, keeping pace with the golem as it moved. He had briefly considered leaving them to join the ongoing battle, but it didn't sit right with them to leave someone who was injured while he was needed. He remembered the last time he had run off, and that had ended up with Whisper attacking and killing two of the other Patronus. He wasn't about to run away again. However, that was an painful memory, so he directed his attention into sensing the ground around the group for disturbances. If he could feel another's footsteps impacting the ground, he could warn the others.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Script on Tue Apr 12, 2011 5:27 pm

Uneven footsteps sounded in the dirt of the ruins, as a man with staring features staggered towards what was rapidly becoming a full-scale battlefield. A kindly old face was twisted in horror as he moved forwards one shuddering step at a time - though whether the shuddering was from the cold, as he was clad only in a shirt and trousers in the dead of winter night, or from something more, was yet to be seen.

The man's name was Declan, or so she gathered from the bus pass she had emptied from his pocket a few hours ago. The sounds of battle started to ring in his ears as he walked, and his expression of fear grew further. "I... don't... where are you taking me?" he gasped, his breathing catching and his words stuttered.

She didn't answer. There was no point in talking to them, they only started to hope that you might show mercy if you did.

And she wasn't so cruel as to give them hope, after all.

Heavy footfalls. The crunch of hard material meeting hard material. Something large, strong. She sniffed.

He was with it. The large thing bore him upon it. But he was faint - distant. As if not all of him was there. She growled -- a low, sinister sound that passed from the old man's lips, but was not his own. It was followed by a gasp of shock, and then a retch.

"N- no, no! Don't-" Declan screamed, collapsing to his knees with a howl of agony. From his lips, a black smoke began to pour, gathering and coalescing on the white snow before him. He continued to convulse, choked noises as if he were vomiting barely audible over the crescendoing battle. The smoke gained coherence, now clearly forming a humanoid shape.

And as the old man fell forwards, face first into the snow, his body withered like a dying flower, skin tightening over his bones as his life passed from him.

She stood before him upon the snow, her booted feet resting lightly upon its surface without sinking a milimeter. "Merry Christmas, Declan Chambers..." Ophelia whispered, white eyes staring straight ahead, and a small smile evident upon her lips.

The cloaked, finely dressed girl started forwards, purposeful strides carrying her forwards quickly where the old man's fatigue-ridden staggering had been like a snail's pace. Her bloodstained, ragged dress fluttered in the wind, and the multitude of large weapons about her person rattled clunkily.

"Alexander, Alexander... where for art thou, Alexander? How might I slay thee? Let me count the ways..."

Her sense of him grew stronger as she neared. But he was still faint... something had harmed him. She would make them pay. Those who had harmed him - those who had fought with him, and failed to protect him. Those who just happened to be nearby, and might have had even a minor hand in it.

Alexander was hers, and hers alone. He would have the finest death of them all.

"I go, and it is done; the bell invites us. Hear it true, my heart, for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven, or to hell..."

Ophelia wove her way through the ruins from the south, her footfalls light and dainty as she wandered out onto what might have once been a road through whatever town-like collection of buildings stood previously. The red-cloaked girl didn't seem to be all that bothered by stealth, or ambush, and so as the shapes of the party that travelled with Arrow came into view, she simply stopped stock still in the middle of the road.

Empty eyes were raised to watch them move towards her, until she came within their view. Ophelia tilted her head slightly to the side, extending a hand forwards. "Soft, what light through yonder window breaks?"

The girl took a step forwards, her other hand tightening into a fist. "What have you done to my Arrow, o' strangers? He is faint. Why? No matter..."

Ophelia smiled, a sweet and genuine smile. "You will suffer for it. Alexander is mine, you see, and what is mine does not belong in your hands... necromancer, demon and alien. You are evils to be taken away from harming him."

At that moment, the slight figure of Ophelia sprung. Bending into a crouch, she launched herself upwards with force, flying into the air with unnatural speed and acrobatic ability. Midair she spun, and in a difficult-to-track manoeuvre by the time she was upright once again, she had in her hand a hulking spiked ball hammer.

Ophelia landed only a few meters in front of Kirae and her golem, and darted forwards. Her weapon was swung forwards as she charged, aimed to slam into the bone golem's midsection with strength enough to smash the creature in twain.
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(03:04:15) Lialore says: I wanted to be the poo.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tiko on Wed Apr 13, 2011 10:39 am

(Post co-written by Gasmask and Tiko)

The explosion sent the cultists flying into walls or set alight by the chaotic energy, forcing the Crone to the ground and the Crone hardly survived the brunt of such a spell, her body was completly broken and her eyes popped under the blast, screaming as she suffered and rolling about in the snow.

Then the purifying flames ceased her grief, flesh bubbling and sinew being exposed as muscles blackened, leaving her a pitiful corpse as the mask clanged to the floor, it's visage staring eternally at the sky.

The surviving cultists were either struck by the attack and were reeling about in the melting snow before painfully dying as their flesh too blackened.

None of them survived, it was a pity, though all was fair in love and war.

The first Homunculus flinched backwards as the single strike of the lethal blade hacked though the barely-there flesh and bone, spurting its vital black ichor across the innocent and unsoiled snow, it was stunned at the loss of its left leg as it fell to the ground, spraying more black liquid onto the snow before finally falling over.

Then the bolt of electricity found its mark, the creatures chest erupting in an arc of lighting and ichor, killing it immediatly before leaping towards its next target. Crouched as she was, Luriel narrowed her eyes sharply at the retreating form of the bard, but she knew the power of the artifacts and couldn't afford to hold still. Leaping to the side, the arc of electricity scorched the ground where she had been standing, though it struck closely enough that the electrically charged air left her hair standing on end.

The second Humonculus witnessed the death of its brother(It did not and could not feel any form of emotion.) as it glanced over the battlefield. The perch upon the ruins gave it an excellent sight of the battlefield and it sniffed the currents of air though the slits in its mouth, drawing in the smells of the skirmish, the scorched flesh, the blood staining the snow and... newcomers. The decedant beast decided to slink off in search of easier prey, sticking to whatever cover it had in order to setup an ambush for Arrow and his party as its tongue lulled out of the gaps in its grotesque teeth and skin covering of its mouth.

Without breaking stride, Luriel's tumble carried her back to her feet as she sought cover in the darkness and ruins once more. Overhead, she caught the glimpse of a homunculus on the move, giving her new direction. It had no doubt spotted something she hadn't, and given the arrival of Kazura and the power of Elante's artifact, the current battle was beyond her abilities, and so she followed in its wake.

It dived from the ruins and tried to pounce upon Marxan with violent impact as it soared though the air, using its boil-covered tongue in an attempt to swarm its newly selected prey with swarms of peicing stabs from the quivering metal tip of its pustule tainted tongue. Then trying to land with all four of its appeandages atop him.

Sheathing her blades as she moved, Luriel deftly drew a set of throwing knives into her hands, and in quick succession she seized advantage of Ophelia and the Homunculus' more attention drawing attacks to send both knives ahead of her. Slicing through the air with deadly precision towards the hulking form of Narruk, the throwing knives were both set to imbed deep into the brutes chest.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Script on Wed Apr 13, 2011 12:44 pm

(post written by Script and Arrow)

Think fast.

When Elante's lightning hit Kazura's sword, embedded in the earth, the artefact's power would have decimated any normal and even most enchanted weapons to nothing more than a molten wreck. Of course, Onikussaiga was no ordinary enchanted weapon. What would become of the weapon subjected to the power of the artefact was unpredictable, and Elante didn't have time to take note of it.

As Kazura flickered from his view to reappear some distance away with an attack already charged, the young mage was forced to act quickly. The five glowing spheres of power that the Crimson Menace launched at him momentarily placed Elante on the defensive.

Arms still almost entirely engulfed by the golden light of the Elemental Bracers, Elante extended his own arm out with his fingers curled into a claw. The mage's eyes flashed as from each fingertip cracked another barrage of lightning to meet Kazura's attacks midair. The two attacks momentarily fused, warping the air around them, before an explosion blew Elante's robes back and forced him to shield his face.

Dying cultists littering the ground before her, the white dragon that was Sylvire took a step forwards into the area of ruins where Kazura now stood. Her bright eyes surveyed the man's exchange with Elante severely, weighing up whether she and the young mage had the power to take him down between them.

Yes, she thought. Yes they did.

Not so foolish as to close the distance and try to utilise the physical attributes of her current form, Sylvire instead focused her attention on the orb of power embedded in her forehead. While the transformation had drained much of her energy, Soul still contained more than enough magical power to fuel her for the rest of the fight. The gem lit up brightly as the dragon glared down at Kazura's mindless destruction of the ancient ruins. While he was focusing his attention on killing rocks, Sylvire struck.

Around Kazura, a spiral of arcane magic burst into being. Arcane bindings flew from the earth in a small circle around him to attempt to latch onto his form, searing magic attempting to cut deep into his flesh where they touched him. These bindings would, were they able to latch onto Kazura, begin to affect a draining effect upon him, sucking his energy and tiring him artificially. Sylvire was confident that Elante's more offensive artefact would be able to follow up on her hindering assault quite nicely.

Don't stop. He wouldn't. No respite: keep attacking.

Without waiting for the smoke of the explosion from the collison of his and Kazura's attacks to clear, Elante leapt forwards. Winds of the artefact carried him forwards faster than his wings could hope to, and he burst from the concealing smoke like a tiny jet fighter.

The golden glow around Elante's arms was magnified now, joined by further illumination as arcs of bright lightning and spirals of roaring fire fluctuated around his upper torso, almost engulfing him within them entirely. Burning golden eyes sought Kazura on the ground below, and Elante once more launched into an attack.

The ground around Kazura erupted in a blast of superhot artefact fire, earth and stone shattering and swirling upwards as a vortex of flame and lightning blossomed into existance: three of the bracers' elements coming into one. The pillar of magic closed in on the crimson menace at its center within a couple of seconds, searing fire and lightning joined by buffeting hunks of stone swinging at random as they were liquefied by the heat. The earth that Kazura stood on would only last a few seconds longer than the air around him before it too was engulfed by the assault, melting into molten lava and exploding upwards like a geyser.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vejisama on Sat Apr 16, 2011 1:35 pm

Bound, his flesh began to fissure, the lacerations deep, but halting the moment they penetrated his figure. His eyes turned upon the being that brought this upon him, those vermilion eyes piercing and haunting. True evil was bound within them, the soul of a being so tainted, and so malicious, that only non-existence would stop him. No hellish prison could hold him, and the afterlife lacked the power to enforce his death. He was evil incarnate, and he would live on, if not in physical form, but mental anguish in those who knew, and spoke, his name.

"Futile efforts..." He chants, finding his motions constricted. And as sheer winds began to kick up around his form, his struggle to escape them seemed...false. He wasn't attempting to free himself, mental calculations signaling him that any attempts would perhaps harm him furthermore. Instead, leaching from his form, was a crimson aura, like a flowing liquid. With Onikussaiga still in grasps, his eyes laid upon the blades edge but for a brief second. It was useless to him at the moment. The bindings would continue to feed of the energy permeating from his being, but there was plenty to spare, his reserves more than plentiful.

"Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock. Time brings with it...ruin..." He suddenly chants, his eyes never leaving those of Sylvire's for that moment, until they spun to land on the approaching Elante's. And then, nothingness.

Torrents of molten rock and fire abruptly arose around Kazura's position, vanishing him from sight in the vicious plume of heat, fire, and earthen slag. Like a geyser, the eruption was magnificently devastating, and the figure of The Crimson Menace was hindered from sight. Was it this blow that brought about his end so soon? The two warriors had obviously made a mental note not to fool with this one. Why so? Had they somehow knew of his awful power ahead of time? Perhaps.

But it was within that Geyser that another explosion ensued. Within the air hovered the form of Kazura. His upper outfit gone, only skin exposed, burned, charred, lacerated, and pummeled. The legs of his outfit also were torn asunder, the same exposing of skin showing multitudes of damage. His left eye was shut, and bleeding profusely, whilst his right eye stared on in calculated hatred at those who'd trespassed against him. Brandishing Onikussaiga, he raises it above his head before slowly lowering it toward Sylvire, and then to Elante.

"Foolish creatures. Thee hath broken the seal. Thine misery awaits..."

The time for games had ceased, and the full force of Kazura's wrath was thusly exposed. From the sky he descends, like a bat from hell, his speed great, though not as it was when he'd arrived. He'd been wounded most assuredly from that beating, but it was not going to cease his full efforts. A blur in his motion as his form ripples the air around him, he careens toward Elante with blade in hand. Three lashes of his blade unleashes smaller crescent arcs of Yoki, their power slightly depleted but still posing a definite threat if contact is landed.

That mad dash toward the male suddenly becomes upset as a spin in his figure thusly sends him hurling on a direct path for Sylvire. No, he was not toying anymore. His temperament shattered, his seething rage carried him in an almost blind assault. A minuscule calculative mind prompted him to keep a semblance of strategy, and that was what he was aiming to do. The form before him, a staggering giant, posed no mental threat. Instead, it almost fueled him. That massive behemoth may have transcendental strength, but speed...it surely must lack.

And like a bolt from the heavens, his figure rises to meet the elongated neck of the creature, a forward thrust of his blade to pierce those patterned scales. As blade drove forward, he suddenly palms the bottom of the handle, before thrusting his arm forward to propel it like an arrow. His figure then slips off to the side to avoid any frontal assaults on his form, his feet fleetly landing upon the ground as to attempt to keep himself on some sense of defense.

Surely, this would not be the end, and with his wounds as they were, he wasn't in the best condition to take any further vicious assaults...

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Arrow on Sat Apr 16, 2011 1:59 pm

(Post written by Arrow, Conumbra, Moonscar and Script)

Before the woman's form became visible ahead of them, Marxan caught the pressure of her footsteps on the ground as she walked towards them. "Be careful, I suspect we'll have an unwelcome visitor soon." With the sight of the woman sneaking out of the bush, his prediction was correct, and he gave a semi-conscious smirk. The woman didn't look so tough, he was confident they could deal with her if she proved troublesome.

At the sight of the approaching girl on the road ahead, Kirae halted the golem once more, warily eyeing the small woman. "Who are you?" she called out in response to Ophelia's questioning, "What connection do you have to Sir Arrow?"

It soon became apparent that the red-cloaked woman had no intention of answering Kirae's questions. Kirae swore in another language as Ophelia leapt towards them, lifting her hands and gathering up necrotic energy for a fight.

Ophelia would find herself charging straight into a swarm of biting and stinging necrotic insects as she swept towards the golem. Ophelia, however, was no ordinary woman. The biting insects stung her, but she didn't seem to notice. In addition, a number of the insects would find their bites closing on nothing as Ophelia seemed to randomly flicker in and out of existence - her entire form intermittently becoming ethereal for a few moments before returning to normal. The insects were, by and the large, totally ignored as she continued her assault.

Narruk gritted his fangs as they were ambushed, lifting the staff and raising it toward Luriel. Since Narruk was a giant, which automatically rendered him more sluggish than any human, he couldn't very well dodge the knives. However, his hark, bark-like skin did not allow the blades to penetrate deep into his body, instead having them land and stick themselves out of his ribcage much like they would have done in a tree.

Without hesitation, Narruk sprung forward toward the woman, the glowing strings upon the staff aimed right for her side. A guttural bellow started from deep inside his throat, rolling out in a fierce, animalistic battle-cry. It was the combination of desperate screams and the hungry roar of a beast that was thrown out towards the woman, meant to paralyze the enemy in fear.

Marxan saw the knives being thrown at Narruk and had just enough time to brace himself before he was attacked. His concentration on sensing approaching footsteps had turned his attention away from the air, and so the homunculus’ lunge hit him, slamming Marxan to the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of him.

The creature's other method of attack was less successful however, as its metal tipped tongue bounced harmlessly off of Marxan's rocky skin, all the homunculus was liable to get was a broken tongue. However, the creature's assaults were making it hard for him to direct his attention away, as he had instinctively shielded himself with his arms, even though it was not needed, so he could not stop the initial woman's attack.

He needed to get rid of the creature so that he wasn't just lying there for the rest of the battle, but how could he evict his unwelcome visitor? His mind dug through possibilities as the creature continued with its tongue attacks. Then, he found one which might work well enough for him to get some breathing room. Using his abilities, a cylinder of rock with a pointed end erupted out of the ground a few metres to Marxan's right before hurtling towards the creature at a remarkable speed. Hopefully this would at least force the annoyance to get off him so that he could fight properly.

Kirae cursed once again as Ophelia charged on heedless of her swarm, and had very little time to react further. The ball hammer met the side of the bone golem with a force unbefitting the small figure that had delivered the blow, and the bone shattered with gusto. Its legs and midsection being thrown sideways by the blow, Kirae screamed as the top of the golem fell the four or five feet to the floor, gathering as much bone as possible into a makeshift protective dome before she and Arrow hit the ground.

The sylvari crawled from the broken golem, coughing in the dust from the impact and unsteadily rising to her feet to face Ophelia. Arrow remained upon the golem's top, thankfully not dislodged from his protective wrapping and mostly unharmed by the fall.

"I don't have time for this!" Kirae huffed, her eyes flashing with deep green necrotic power. Once more, as at the farmhouse, billowing smoke poured from the little green girl's form and gathered into a collection of six bone minions. "Keep her busy!" Kirae shouted, pointing at Ophelia. The minions charged, an erratic and undisciplined mob descending on the woman with deadly blades arcing towards her.

Kirae herself turned away from the fight and ran to Arrow's side. "Stupid stupid stupid..." she muttered as she hastily surveyed what was left of the golem. She had to get Arrow to the Monastery, and a hunk of broken bone wasn't going to help in this state!

Crouching, Kirae placed her hand upon the bone. Her hand began to glow a dim green as tendrils of energy seeped from her arm into the broken golem, bone shifting and changing as it morphed in jerking, uneven motions. After what seemed an age but was in fact only a few seconds, the repairs were complete. What Kirae had created was, for all intents and purpose, a pair of legs with a stretcher on them.

Not the most adaptable minion she'd ever made, but she didn't have time to refine it now. "Follow!" she commanded the leg-minion, turning to move back along the road toward the Monastery. She would have to trust that Narruk and this new man would be able to follow her soon after despite their own assailants.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tiko on Tue Apr 19, 2011 5:56 pm

(post co-written by Tiko, Gasmask, and Script)

Luriel was unphased by the intimidating display that Narruk put on and stood her ground, seeming set to take the brute head on. However, as Narruk's staff cut through the air, she sprang into motion, one hand catching the top of the crumbled wall behind her. Pulling herself up enough to kick off, she vaulted over in Narruk in a somersault, coming to land crouched behind him.

Spinning even as she stood, her hand reached back behind her and smoothly swung the blunderbuss over her shoulder, from its holster. Leveling it at Narruk's back, the night sparked with the blast and what erupted from the weapon was a wide spray of lead shot and flickers of scorching flame – though it lacked the sheer fire power, or destructiveness of the actual artifact that it mocked.

Meanwhile, as the gunshot echoed through the ruins, the drooling, dedacant creature had all four of its hand trying to pin Marxan down, the dirty fingers and claws digging into any bare flesh that might have been there seconds before, but just scrabbling uselessly against stone. The creature was about to snap and attempt to crack the stone, the base intellect it had foolishly thinking that it was a magical shield which could be removed. This did not however work as intended as it was blasted away before it could bite and was sent bowling backwards in a torrent of snow, its own flesh having a large chunk blown though its chest, a swarming mass of insects escaping from the rotten construct.

It did not feel pain, recovering quickly and flinging its head backwards and then forwards in an attempt to sieze Marxan by the foot with its tongue in a binding, and locked grip before trying to pull him off his feet and then into the direction of Narruk with the velocity of a well-aimed football kick.

However the burst of visceral ichor did not stop leaking out of the wound, eventually the creature would lose the substance that made it stiff and moveable, but its primal desires would keep to the masters plan.

As Kirae's necrotic smoke formed around Ophelia, the small woman remained still, her empty eyes staring straight through the clouds at Kirae herself. As the minions took shape, Ophelia allowed a small smile to creep its way onto her face, and she laughed quietly.

"Silly necromancer." Ophelia said, her voice oddly melodic, "You can't run from love. Against all odds, love prevails. That is why you cannot defeat me, it's ... quite simple, when you think about it."

Ophelia laughed for a second time, lifting the massive ball-hammer upwards. The hammer's haft was almost as tall as Ophelia herself, and yet the girl held it in one hand with seeming ease. Her eyes followed Kirae even as the bone minions started to close. And then as quick as a flash, she struck. The hammer moved almost too fast to track, suddenly embedding itself in the top of the first minion, shattering bone and tearing flesh. She pulled the hammer back and spun, her boot meeting the creature and sending it flying off to the side, where the remnants of it shattered upon impact with the ruins.

Five more remained, five more little toys. Ophelia wasn't very good with toys, she had discovered when she was young. They tended to break quite quickly. Just like her lovers... But alas!

Ophelia turned in time to catch the swing of one of the minions' blades on the haft of her hammer. She jumped backwards, straight over the top of another, landing behind it and swinging her hammer upwards in an arc. It caught the creature in the back and catapulted it into the air. It landed out of sight, somewhere in the ruins. Hardly pausing, Ophelia swung again, to the right. Another minion destroyed, the top half of it spinning off into the distance while the rest collapsed into a pile on the floor. Back to the left, another broke under her hammer, driven into the dirt by a downward swing.

Four down, and two remained standing. Ophelia spared them not a moment, swinging her arm around and ... rather alarmingly, tossing her ball hammer into the air. In near an instant, the girl had her poleaxe in her hand, and was spinning forwards like a whirlwind of bladed death. Twirling the weapon as though it were a baton, rather than a cumbersome heavy weapon, Ophelia threw it forwards straight at one of the surviving minions. The blades scythed straight through the creature and sliced it cleanly into two pieces.

Ophelia raised her hand, then, and in a fluid motion she caught the falling ball hammer solidly by the haft, and swung it forwards into the final minion. It dropped like a sack of potatoes, leaving Ophelia standing over it with her hammer embedded in the top of its torso. In a whirling of blades, her poleaxe spun back to her like a boomerang, caught with ease and lowered to her side.

The hooded girl looked up from the devastation that she had acted out in only a few seconds at the retreating form of Kirae, and smiled. "Run, run as fast as you can... You can't outrun me. Nobody can." she sang softly, pulling her hammer free and turning herself towards the sylvari with grim determination.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Script on Tue Apr 19, 2011 6:00 pm

(post co-written by Script and Arrow)

He was still alive? After that? Elante cursed, the artefacts were strong but apparently Kazura still had the edge on survival. As the arcs of yoki slashed towards him, Elante dropped. Currents of air swept him downwards, allowing the energy to pass over his head and into the ruins behind him, destroying a column of a building and kicking up more dust.

Elante himself soared close to the ground in an arc, rising upwards even as Kazura speared towards Sylvire. Bringing the artefacts upwards once again, the fire around his arms faded to be replaced with swirling winds that joined the lightning that danced over the glowing bracers. Elante pulled his arms backwards and outwards, a cry of exertion accompanying an incredible wind that burst into being around Kazura. The hurricane force winds were aimed to drag Kazura backwards, to slow his speed and give Sylvire's larger form time to react.

Sylvire took the gifted time and used it well. As Kazura approached her, Sylvire's orb lit up with a bright light, and a dome of arcane force slammed outwards to intercept the crimson menace and try to knock him backwards. Regardless of the success of her delaying assault, the dragon would take wing, quick beats of her wings carrying her backwards and upwards. The thrown Onikussaiga would therefore only score a line down Sylvire's underbelly, a shallow wound but one felt nonetheless. The sorceress roared with anger.

And it was at that moment that Elante shot back into the sky. Trailing Kazura - but keeping himself at least a dozen meters clear - the young mage readied himself for an actual strike. The artefacts's golden glow was almost entirely obscured by the blue light of lightning as Elante extended his palms forwards, and a barrage of bolts shot outwards from his hands. A dozen individual lightning bolts were sent careening towards Kazura, and Elante was prepared to follow them up with more.

However, from her new position, Sylvire could see that more of her allies were in peril as well. 'Hold, Elante!' she instructed, 'Slaying Kazura is too difficult a task to be accomplished when we must also enable our allies' retreat. I will leave a distraction, but we must go to Arrow's aid!'

At that point, Sylvire's orb flashed once again. The true forms of Elante and Sylvire vanished into invisibility, replaced in the same moment by illusory images. The power of Sylvire's haywire gem artefact would prevent Kazura from detecting this change in their substance, and the illusory copies of the two were designed to evade attacks as best they were able. It wouldn't keep Kazura occupied for long, but perhaps long enough to aid their allies.

'To the south west!' Sylvire instructed Elante, soaring towards the battle with Ophelia and Luriel to lend her aid.

Elante lingered a few moments longer, but then followed Sylvire. He just hoped she was right about the illusions being sufficient to cover for them.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vejisama on Thu Apr 21, 2011 1:01 pm

His success was limited. He'd hardly paid much attention as Elante ducked beneath his arcs of Yoki, only hearing the sounds of devastation they exuded upon a pillar of the ruins. His focus was Sylvire. But in his mad dash toward her, he'd not counted on Elante's attempt to slow him. As such, he was caught within the sheer winds that embodied him, slowing his attempts. A glance upward brought the realization that Sylvire had as well unleashed a minuscule assault, the arcane force slowing him even further, straining him in his attempt as Onikussaiga was launched. The grazed connection, though, was enough to bring a satisfying grin to his face. It may not have been a direct strike, but it was enough to bring realization that he was not toying.

In his fleeting defensive maneuver, Kazura found himself dashing off to the side, an attempt to prevent himself from being struck by retaliation. In those defensive seconds, he scrambles for Onikussaiga which had lodged into the ground. As his fingertips curled around the handle of the blade, he looks behind him only to see Elante unleashing another onslaught from those strange contraptions around his arms. He had but a moments reprieve as he struggles to maneuver around to avoid the oncoming bolts of electricity. It had seemed that he'd managed to luck out with a majority until his efforts caught up with him. He was indeed powerful, but he was not untouchable. The last quarter of the assault strikes his body, illuminating him in a blinding, blue, glow. Static crackles pierce the air as his body swarms with the power of the Artifacts unleashed power, bringing him to his knee. His body falls forward, a hand grasping the snow covered earth beneath. The temperature his body had ascended to brings the snow to instantaneously melt around his hand and body.

Finally, pain registered within his head as his single open eye feasts its gaze upon his now somewhat charred hand, knowing full well that it was not simply his hand that was blackened and distorted. The rest of his body suffered as well, his nerve endings screaming in pain. But unlike the many who'd suffered pain within this battle, Kazura was a breed something else. The pain only infuriated him, though it still left him crippled for the moment. He'd not even the ability to see where the two had gone. Vulnerable for that second, his eye falls shut as he weakly staggers to his feet, stumbling back a few seconds and gritting his teeth from the pain, his wrath only growing. His smoldering body continued to pour foul smoke from his flesh, and the cindered clothing left on his frame. But he did not appear as a man struck down, weak and futile in efforts. He appeared a monster, beaten, and trodden upon, only to rise and show his defiance.

The Crimson Menace would fall for no one.

His grasp upon the handle of Onikussaiga tightened, only to split the skin upon his fingers and knuckles in the process. A dim, vermilion, aura slowly began to arise around his form before, with much effort, he turns on heel to raise a free palm. Within the nexus, a singular sphere begins to grow rapidly, though not possessing nearly the punch it could have, before he unleashes it toward what he thought to be the forms of Sylvire and Elante. A cannon-like explosive beam unleashes in the direction, massive in diameter, but rather weak in force...meant to swallow the both of them, or...what his mind perceived as them.

"Thee...shan't have the last laugh..." He mutters beneath his breath.

But unknown to him, they had.

It was only a few fleeting moments before Kazura realized that his attack had failed completely. But what was more unsettling was the fact that what he perceived to be Sylvire and Elante were not making any attempts in attacking him. Instead, they appeared to be dodging, and fleeing, in an interesting pattern. Fallacious images!? He'd been fooled.

His beaten, and disrupted, body began to quiver with malcious wrath, and with defiant steps, ignoring to the best of his abilities the pain brought to his body, he directs himself, agonizing step, by agonizing step, toward what he could only believe to be the direction they'd gone off in.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tiko on Thu Apr 28, 2011 5:43 pm

(post co-written by Tiko, Arrow, Conumbra, Parabola, Gasmask and Moonscar)

Narruk grabbed wildly at Luriel, but she was quick and spritely, where he was slugglush and slow to react. He was just beginning to turn when Luriel hoisted her weapon and fired. The Oasis warror shuddered as he was hit, staggering forward and landing on his knees. Bits of burnt skin, which could be likened more to burnt wood than the soft, meaty flesh of most humans, toppled to the ground, black. The giant grasped his staff tightly, bringing in his strength together for a final attempt. His body may not have been quick, but his thoughts were.

Hoisting the staff upward, growling deeply in either pain or just the effort it took to do so, he braced his body and slammed the end on the ground. A light would spark between the ground and the staff, and it would fly outward swiftly, expanding into a circle of energy and light that pushed outward from Narruk, standing at least four feet from the ground. It soared toward Luriel, would possibly hit her first, and would attempt to burn away at her slight form until there was hardly ash left.

Luriel dropped to the ground, one leg extended to the side to keep her balance and one palm braced against the ground while the other held her blunderbuss to the side. Every tendon on her was poised to renew her assault on the hulking behemeth as the wave of heat and flames passed overhead illuminating her face and momentarily flickering in her uncompassionate milky white eyes.

Marxan had just gotten up, when the creature reacted faster then he thought something of its size should. The tongue latched onto his foot, and Marxan had just enough time to see where Narruk was when he was flung into that direction at full speed. Instinctively, he raised a rock wall between himself and Narruk, bracing for impact. He hit the wall full force, but didn't break through, though he did leave a sizeable impact mark in it. Marxan used that brief period to raise a sharp rock barrier where the metal tip turned into actual tongue, so as to cut off the appendage and leave him free.

The Humoncolous flinched backwards, a second to late as its tongue was severed from the tip, the main appendage flailing about and ejecting black ichor over the rock barrier and the snow under it.

The severed metal tip was still vibrating in the snow, the black substance leaking out of it suddenly turned more viscous before turning into flesh and forming another set of legs to hold it upwards, the steel tip forming a 'head'.as it sudden took to movement and in a leaping action it tried to grapple onto Marxan's stomach and proceed to chew/stab/claw at the stone, it's razor-sharp teeth snapping loudly.

The Humoncolous was just as lucky, the severed end of its tongue was stuffed into the snow in an effort to stop the bleeding, staining or melting the snow around it from the nearly endless stream of thick ichor, as it was withdrawn from the snow the bleeding tip was replaced with a fresh one that had grown back, curling around itself before it launched forward and attempted to trample Marxan with its feet.

With the sight of Ophelia demolishing her minions with barely a batted eyelid, Kirae gulped. The sylvari urged her stretcher-golem onwards. The monastery was within sight, but she stood no chance of escape just by running - the red-cloaked girl was too fast! But there was little that Kirae could do against someone who could turn her minions into unrecognisable lumps of bone and flesh in just seconds.

Before Ophelia had a chance to launch fully into pursuit of the Sylvari though, the arrival of backup was heralded grandly by an ear-shattering roar. Sylvire swept downwards towards the road where Ophelia was making her way after Kirae, hitting the stone hard and tearing up chunks of rock with her impact. 'Run, girl!' she projected to Kirae's mind as she faced off against the heavy weapon wielding enemy who looked far too small to even lift her weaponry, let alone wield it. Her eyes betrayed her supernatural nature though, and so it was with little remorse that Sylvire gathered her dragon fire in preparation for an attack.

Kirae did not need telling twice. She risked a single backward glance at Narruk, pangs of remorse shooting through her chest with the realisation that she could not help him without abandoning Arrow, and turned and fled into the ruins, towards the monastery.

Sylvire's roar off down the road of the battlefield might have announced the arrival of support, but by no means was she the only ally to come to the small group's rescue. Elante descended from the sky like a glowing bullet, his artefact's glow reminiscent of a small sun with its intensity. For a moment, his eyes darted between Marxan and Narruk, trying to assess their situations, but the loud explosion as the faux-boomstick fired at the giant made his decision for him.

Elante shot down towards Luriel and Narruk with a rush of air, palms opening as he gathered artefact fire around his arms. The mage hit the ground between the two like a small comet, a wave of fire pouring forth from him and straight towards the dark elf, almost entirely obscuring him from view. Elante rose out of the crouch he had entered on impact and turned to Narruk. "Go!" he shouted, "Get to the monastery! We'll hold them off."

The great warrior was certainly down, forced onto one knee and injured, but he was not out. Not by a long shot. That would have been a shame to all the Oasis Giants if he went down with such a meager wound. He raised his head toward Sylvire as her roar swept past him. Ah, a light where only darkness had swept by! All was not lost.

At Elante's shout, Narruk was already summoning what strength he had to stand up, tensing his body as more pieces of flesh toppled from his back. The warrior gritted his teeth and fought through it. This was no grave wound! What an easy thing it was, just to move! And so Narruk did, holding his staff tightly within his large hands and retreating toward the monastery. He would be of no use here, not without the strength to bring about his summons. He would be much more careful should there be a next time.

Relying on quick reflexes and speed, Luriel wasted little time in diving to the side, heat and flames scorching past her and leaving liquified rock in her wake. Coming to her feet, she didn't stop moving, for it was unlikely the mage would relent on his assault. The ruins provided a great deal of cover, but without anyone to distract Elante, she was limited in on how she could exploit that to her advantage. Not as long as Elante's attention was on her anyways.

Slinging the blunderbuss back of her shoulder, Luriel drew two more throwing daggers, both glinting through the air in separate directions. One for the fleeing form of Narruk, the other for Elante's chest. A minor distraction for one of Elante's caliber, but her arsenal wasn't the most fitting for such circumstances.

Ducking behind the wall she had vaulted off from earlier, Luriel knew the decrepit stone wouldn't stand up against Elante's artifact, but if she could get him to lose visual on her, she might have the chance to reposition herself to a more tactical location.

Elante reacted quickly to the assault of the throwing daggers. His arm swept upwards, and outwards from his position burst a roaring torrent of air, powerful winds catching the daggers and tossing them aside like they were nothing more than feathers. The mage kept his eyes trained on Luriel with grim focus, determined to put an end to as much of the Orsa as he feasibly could in one battle.

As the elf ducked behind the wall, Elante barely blinked, lifting his arm upwards and then thrusting it downwards. With a cracking and rumbling, the wall in its entirety shattered and was thrown down in a crushing barrage towards the hiding Luriel. This was quickly followed by a punching motion, sending a fireball as wide as Elante was tall searing towards the ruins of the wall, where it would explode angrily upon impact.

Still on the move, Luriel's agility saved her the brunt of Elante's initial attack, however she didn't come out entirely unscathed. Blood flowed from numerous scrapes and abrasions across her arms and a particularly deep gash over her brow. As she swung her blunderbuss around and fired off another shot to fragment a particularly large chunk of rock into rubble her eyes caught sight of the fireball descending upon her, but with the wall destroyed, she lacked the height necessary to jump free of the blast zone.

However, even as Luriel stared her destruction down, a blast of green energy struck her and sent her careening to the side while the explosive fireball threw her further still. As she collided forcefully with the wall of one of the outbuildings the decrepit rock gave way beneath the impact and Luriel was lost amongst the rubble of the half collapsed building.

The source of the interference had stepped out from behind a nearby outbuilding, stamping a hoof against the frozen earth. Oron at first glance could have been mistaken for an ally of the Patronus, if not for that same sickening sense of wrongness that clung to his form, similar to Luriel and the others.

The centaur's staff was held aloft and pointed at Luriel's earlier location but sweeping it across in front of him, viciously spiked roots erupted from the frozen ground beneath Elante's feet as they lashed about seeking purchase in the gaps of his armor.

"More? These bastards are just coming out of the fucking woodwork, aren't they?" Elante growled, eyes narrowing at Oron. The mage hardly reacted as the roots erupted around him, but before the plants had a chance to so much as touch him, a wave of fire burst outwards from him in a sphere, incinerating them in an instant.

His face still set, without so much as a twitch, Elante once more brought his arm upwards and crushed his hand inwards into a fist. Beneath Oron, the ground where he stood crumpled like paper, flowing inwards into a pit that clutched and clung to the centaur's form as he fell. Without batting an eyelid, Elante flicked a single finger up. A spike of rock burst from the ground where Oron was held, piercing him straight through the chest and jutting out the other side in a spray of gore.

Elsewhere, as the massive form of Sylvire descended before her, Ophelia's empty eyes stared up at her with bitter resentment. The red-cloaked girl hooked her hammer back onto her back, spinning the double-ended crescent axe in one hand like a baton. Her face twisted in anger as Kirae disappeared around a corner in the ruins, her Arrow being carried after her.

This dragon thought to interfere with love? Then it would receive the fate that such an action deserved. The gathering light in the white beast's maw signalled to Ophelia that the time to act was now. As the burst of searing flame shot forth from Sylvire, she sprinted forwards. Moving at a ridiculous speed, Ophelia had cleared the fire's path in seconds. The flames heated the unnatural girl's back as she closed on the dragon.

Sylvire roared, her eyes focusing in on the slight figure that charged at her with unrestrained ferocity. The sorceress' orb lit up with a bright light, and two bolts of lightning formed in the air above her, to fork down angrily at Ophelia. The magical attack travelled the distance in moments, but the girl was already darting to the side, her momentum unphased by the strike.

She was closing fast, now, and Sylvire growled. With another flash of the orb, the ground in front of Ophelia exploded with arcane chains that shot like arrows towards her. Ophelia flinched at the suddenness of the attack, jumping to the side as a chain shot past her, before pushing off from the ground and leaping.

The girl shot into the air far higher than should have been possible. There was a lightness and a strength to her that was entirely unnatural. Though the chains arced upwards to follow her, they were being outmanoeuvred. Only one of the chains was still on a path to grasp at Ophelia's leg. Before the attack could connect, however, Ophelia turned. Swinging her weapon around to spin herself with the momentum, she brought the axe across in an arc that caught the chain and knocked it aside like paper as she hurtled into her descent.

Ophelia landed with barely a thump, lightfooted and unnaturally graceful. Even as her feet touched the floor, she was in motion again, spinning her weapon and swinging it around full circle. She released the axe with a grunt of determined effort, sending the spinning weapon sweeping around towards Sylvire's legs at an impressive speed.

Fortunately for the sorceress, she was far from slow. Though the weapon closed on her quickly, her reactions were quicker, and a bolt of arcane energy formed in the air in its path with a ripple of power, meeting the axe and sending it spiralling away.

That brief window of distraction was all that Ophelia had needed, however.

When Sylvire took her attention off of the girl herself, she was already sprinting forwards again. Moving diagonally to the dragon, she darted first to the right, before leaping upwards to the left. As her weapon flew away, Ophelia launched herself bodily at Sylvire's draconic form. Her arm stretched out, hand open, and the deflected weapon arced around in the air to spin straight back towards her. As Sylvire turned her head to strike at Ophelia once again, the weapon spun straight into her jaw on its way past.

Sylvire hissed in pain as the axe blade dug into her skin, but the tough scales of her dragon form prevented the weapon from doing any serious damage. Still, the weapon was heavy and deadly, and the skin was broken and bleeding. That didn't stop her attack, however, her focus resolute. A ball of fire burst from the orb on her head and seared towards Ophelia's leaping form.

Just as it seemed the fire would envelop her, the girl flickered. The fire washed over her, but seemed to have little effect. Ophelia continued on through it unhindered, her form seeming momentarily insubstantial and translucent. Sylvire mentally cursed - a planar shifter.

Her momentary shift to the ethereal plane fading, Ophelia landed on Sylvire's back with the utmost care - not preventing her from being unsteady for a few moments, but meaning that she managed to flail out and grab ahold of one of the dragon's spines before a massive downbeat of her wings brought Sylvire soaring upwards once again. Ophelia gripped on for all she was worth, grim determination evident in her normally blank expression.

Only the girl's ridiculous strength prevented her from being tossed from Sylvire's back as the dragon roared, flinging herself around in the air to try and dislodge her unwelcome rider. At first, she was tossed around enough that Sylvire almost succeeded in her goal, but just in time, Ophelia managed to swing her axe-wielding arm around and dig the weapon into her flesh.

Not only did this provide Ophelia with additional grip, it sent a bolt of pain into Sylvire, causing her to roar out in pain. Her thrashings ceased as she realised that she could easily end up damaging herself with her own movements, considering that the grip she was attempting to displace was now embedded into her body.

Instead, she descended once again, crashing down into the ruins with force. The remnants of a building were demolished beneath her, dust and stones flying into the air and obscuring both her and Ophelia from view.

Ophelia was thrown forwards by the unexpected descent, her axe dislodged from Sylvire's body and her slight form tossed onto Sylvire's neck. A flash of pain registered in the back of the girl's mind, but she was relentless. There was a sickening wet slipping noise as Ophelia pushed herself upwards, and the spine that had pierced straight through her torso slid free. Blood began to soak Ophelia's clothing, but the wound seemed not to hinder her at all.

The girl took the moment that Sylvire required to recover from the heavy landing to draw her ball hammer from her back. She left her axe where it had fallen, and strode forwards upon the dragon's back. Picking up speed, Ophelia's unnatural agility quickly carried her up Sylvire's neck, and it was in a flip that the girl landed into a crouch on the top of the dragon-sorceress' head.

Sylvire mentally shook away the disorientation of her landing as light footsteps were felt upon her neck. The sorceress' eyes would have widened were she in a form where such a process were feasible, but as it was the orb in her forehead lit up in preparation to dispel the girl from her head.

But in that moment, Ophelia rose, and swung.

The ball hammer arced down and slammed into the glowing orb like a wrecking ball. The sound of shattering filled the air, and for all intents and purposes it appeared for a moment that Sylvire and Ophelia had exploded. Light radiated outwards in an intense flash, spilling from the cracks in the crystal in an uncontrollable wave. The glow enveloped both Ophelia and Sylvire's draconic form in their entirety, and was such that onlookers would be momentarily blinded.

When the glow faded, the dragon was gone. In its place, in the center of the demolished ruins where she had landed, stood Sylvire. The sorceress was gasping, blood running from her jaw, back and stomach, the crimson quickly starting to show through her robes. For a moment, the elven woman supported herself upon her staff. But then in a fluttering of robes, she fell. Her staff clattered to the ground beside her as she hit the floor, unconscious, with blood steadily soaking her robe.

For several long moments there was no sign of Ophelia, and it looked as if the explosion of energy had put an end to her. But then there was a stirring at the edge of the shattered clearing of ruins, movement as a hand reached up to grasp at the stone. Slowly and unsteadily, Ophelia pulled herself to her feet. She had been thrown from the dragon's head to slam into the rubble, and her body was bruised and bleeding. The wound through her side was still bleeding heavily, but still she rose. Her hammer had been thrown to the light only knew where, but as she lifted her hand outwards, a twitching off to her right soon brought her crescent axe flying back to her.

Despite her survival, Ophelia was obviously injured. The girl stepped slowly from her position, practically shuffling as she started to make her slow, limping way towards Sylvire's form, dragging the axe along behind her.

Elante's eyes swept away from the fallen Oron and to the side to try and find Luriel, but it was at that moment that the area was filled with an explosion of light. Elante swore and shielded his eyes, trying to find the source as the light started to fade. Then he saw her - or more, didn't see her. The enormous dragon that had been Sylvire was gone!

Marxan had believed that he had enough time to take a breath before continuing on with the battle, but apparently he wasn't going to get a break today. The tongue turned into some kind of weird creature and began clawing and biting at his stone armour. That hadn't been successful the last time it had been tried, and it wasn't successful now, although it did end up scratching the rock something fierce.

Still, this was a distraction that he had to get rid of; otherwise he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the ongoing struggle. His senses, perceived the metal "head" as it now was. It was a different sort of metal than he was used to, but he could work with it. He concentrated (a hard task considering the onslaught), and he ripped the molecules apart, essentially destroying the metal part and sending it in all directions.

He scarcely had time to take the next breath when that creature jumped again and landed right on Marxan's chest, knocking the wind out for a second time in the row. He'd have major bruising after this one; if one of his ribs wasn't broken (he couldn't tell). So, when that thing tried to stomp on him again, it would find his rocky armour growing sharp and pointed around the edges. If that wasn't enough to get the creature off of him, a section of the wall that he had slammed against burst out into a large spike to skewer the poor homunculus.

The Humunculous was not found wanting, it made no move to avoid the spike as it skewed itself and kept going, trying to get as far as it could to take a large chunk of Marxan's face with it, or whatever portion of body it could reach, it's large, shark-teeth ridden mouth was not weak in the slightest, it was practically made for chomping.

The metal 'head' exploded with great force, sending a storm of metal shards, bits of flesh and black ichor to splash around it, the metal thudding into either snow, the flesh of the Humoncolous or even Marxan himself.

Marxan barely noticed the shower of metal as it bounced off his skin. What he was most concerned about was the large creature standing on top of him, trying with all of its efforts to rip his face off. That this thing was still moving with the large spike of rock jutting out of it was a miracle in and of itself, but it provided an excellent opportunity.

While his right arm tried to fend off the creature's advances his mind was concentrating. He could perceive the metal embedded in the Homunculus’s skin, and he could perceive the stone wedged inside the creature. It was the same trick he had used a few seconds before with the tongue. He perceived the composition of those two substances, and he exploded the two substances with gusto. The metal was likely only to achieve surface cuts, but when the rock inside the Homunculus exploded outwards it was apt to take a good chunk of the creature along with it.

The creature was unphased untill the rock exploded inside it, the flesh tearing away and bone splinting upwards. It wasn't too good for it, the joints were now bent awkwardly in its shoulders but it continued to press forward, no matter the internal injuries it received as it dawned nearer, its jaw widening and saliva dripping from the upper jaw.

The teeth it had were in full-view as it swung its head backwards and then forwards in an effort to wedge itself further upon the spike, snarling and biting the air.

It then attempted to tear a chunk of stone from Marxan's chest. It would suceed, to a point. As it held the chunk of stone in its mouth, Marxan would draw from the earth beneath him to replenish his armor. The stone the Homunculus now held was sent at a fast speed through the creature's head, breaking past any flesh that stood in its way. Marxan hoped that the head would splatter and he would be able to breath again.

The head did splatter, sending chunks of brains and flesh exploding outwards and the head to hang loosely from the neck, a very thin line of connecting membrane keeping it slightly suspended from the ground.

However, the creature did try and regenerate from its wounds, twitching and screaming all the same as it thrashed in the general direction of Marxan, the black ichor streaming from its neck trying to form a viscous liquid.

Marxan decided he had had enough of this thing on top of him, so he manipulated the earth around him to so that it would allow him to sink below the surface. Since the homunculous was still attached to him, he doubted it would notice until it was already underground. Once they were far enough, Marxan covered the two of them completely in dirt. Without needing to breath, the stone from the road beneath vanished into the dirt to crush the creature. Once that was complete, Marxan would rise out from the ground a few meters away, the Homunculous hopefully crushed and buried.

The humuncolous did not burst out of the ground in a shower of dirt and gore, but remained underground and severly wounded, it did not need to breathe either, but sadly it was not strong enough to burrow upwards.

Marxan simply left the creature there, increasing the pressure a small bit before leaving the thing where it lay. It'd eventually bleed out, if a creature like that could bleed out. That thing wasn't important right now. His compatriots were in danger, and he was going to help them.

"Shit." Elante cursed, abandoning his pursuit of Luriel and launching himself into the air. His eyes scanned the ground where the light had originated, swiftly finding Sylvire's collapsed form as well as that of her wounded assailant. Eyes widening from their anger into horror, he swept downwards with a beat of his wings to intercept Ophelia before she could reach the patronus leader. "No!" he yelled, landing in a skid to block the girl's path. "Take another step and you die." Elante hissed.

And he meant it.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Imehal on Thu Apr 28, 2011 5:58 pm

The condition of those retreating had almost been enough to convince Natalie to turn back, knowing that all that could heal would be needed where they ran. Despite this, she had continued onwards, knowing that there was no hope of reprieve until everyone was inside the library and out of harm's way.

It was only when Natalie came across those who still remained on the frontlines that she halted, out of breath but ready to act, black crystal clasped tightly in her right hand. It took not a moment to use her abilities to feel out the battlefield without compromising vision, visibly paling at the sight of Sylvire's crumpled form on the snow-covered ground. Barely moments had passed since they had spoken but as Natalie had seen before, that was all it took for everything to come crashing down around you.

There was not a great deal of deduction needed to realise that he was protecting their fallen leader from an adversary, but there was simply no time right now for whatever Elante planned, her free hand rising – palm facing out – towards them. Combining magic and the bolstering effects of the crystal, a wall that was the height of at least two people manifested between ally and foe, Natalie focusing so that it was at least fifteen feet in width.

”I'll cover you. Just get Sylvire and run!” Movement came easily, the sorceress much more comfortable in combat than she had once been. All too aware that they did not have time to dawdle, she took a few steps backwards to begin to retrace her steps towards the monastery. Although she sensed no more approaching auras other than those already known to her, it was little comfort. Only when they all rested within the walls of the library, injured or no, would she breathe easy again, already poised to cast at a moment's notice.
Gasmask: Alright. Either your CD is corrupted, which'd explain the crashing and odd stuffs.
Imehal: Or?
Gasmask: Your windows really, really, really hates icewind dale.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vejisama on Sun May 01, 2011 9:29 pm

A blinding flash upon the horizon dawned itself on the crimson oculars of Kazura, a sudden interested quirk of the brow upon his facial visage. It was enough to prompt him in hastening his pace. Though the pain slowly came to a dull annoyance, it was still enough to hinder his clear thinking. It was moreso the fact that he'd been harmed in such a manner, as opposed to the pain itself. How could he let such a thing befall his perfected being.

"No. The fools have not seen the last of This Kazura. They shall not suceed in cowardly retreat..." He mutters, the words forcefully pushed from his mouth.

Those slow, staggered, strides suddenly ceased as his figure came to a halt. A sudden sinister glare toward the horizon in which the ongoing portion of the battle was taking place, and he was gone. That fleeting moment was enough to bring him to a standstill just beyond the bounds of the ongoing battle, his being still saturated in what appeared to be lacerations, wounds, and charred skin. But it was apparent that the more minor wounds had already begun to fade away, replaced by new tissue, his healing already beginning in its work.

With a glance upon those in the area, he came to set his gaze upon the downed figure of Sylvire, and then Elante, only to see a wall erected. So, she'd been brought down from the skies, merely a female in truth. It was only his assumptions though, how was he to truly know if this woman was indeed that flying creature. It mattered not though. She and the male had made a fool of him. They'd brought pain to him, a feat not easily accomplished. And in return, he'd gift them with unending pain, and misery. He'd bring about their deaths, slowly, but surely. Be it in the blink of an eye, or otherwise, they would feel his immense wrath. And those who stood in his way would suffer furthermore. With a glance off to the side, he spies yet another female, whom he could only assume to be the one who raised said wall. Nothing would stop him. Not this female, not Elante, not anyone.

It was upon him to 'kill' these 'worthy opponents'. They would make him more powerful by his doing so. As it stood, they were a challenge indeed. But their cowardice, that was something that brought disdain to him. Why flee? Unless they know they are unfit. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Not at the moment. His malicious wrath was growing. He could no longer contain it...

With a searing pain driving through his eye, it falls shut only as a free hand raises. A growl of defiance at the pain he was feeling brought him into a blinding dash. Free hand still raised, a series of twelve condensed Ki spheres escape the nexus of that palm, scattered for anyone in the area. Friend and foe alike. Kazura saw no friends, and it was upon his arrival to that massive wall that he comes to a halt, directly behind Ophelia. With not even a second thought, he swings his arm across horizontally, driving it toward the female with all intentions of 'swatting' her away like a fly. A wall was nothing to him, was it?

"Out of mine way, childish cretin..." He mutters, raising his other hand, balling it into a fist. A faint glow of Yoki surrounds it and he drives it forward, intending on demolishing the wall before him. The effects of the Yoki would simply give his action an explosive effect, rather massive. The blowback of the force would be enough to even drive him back, feet skidding across the snowy ground.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Arrow on Thu May 05, 2011 11:09 am

(Written by Arrow, Imehal, Conumbra, Moonscar and Script)

At the monastery itself, Kirae staggered up the steps with heavy breaths, the stretcher-golem following behind her unsteadily on the narrow footing. The sylvari reached the interior and glanced around helplessly. "Hello?" she called out, "Is there anyone there? I need help! I'm with Sir Arrow, he is wounded!"


Elante nodded to Natalie grimly before Kazura arrived, bending down to lift Sylvire upwards with the aid of a cushion of air. The mage cast only a cursory glance at Ophelia as she was halted by the shield, and was about to take wing when Kazura arrived on scene.

Wounded as she was, Ophelia was in no position to put up a fight against Kazura. After having all but slain a dragon, the girl had reached the limit of her abilities -- never before had she fought foes of this magnitude in Orlesia, but she did not falter. Kazura's blow struck true, and Ophelia was sent sprawling, landing in a heap off to the side of the battlefield and lying still.

She was not dead - far from it, but her body had given into its wounds, and despite her numbness to pain, she was unconscious. Her accelerated healing would keep her alive, but her chest did not move. There were no signs of life in her broken form, and she would not awaken for several days at least.

A number of the Ki spheres that had been sent out collided with the wall's surface, their force harmlessly absorbed against it. It remained stable even when Kazura's fist made contact, despite the immense strength the man possessed. The additional force of the Yoki blast rippled the surface but the barrier remained solid, protecting those that were beginning their retreat on the other side.

Swearing, Elante took a step back away from the edge of Natalie's shield and narrowed his eyes. He was not exactly able to fight back, with Sylvire so wounded and relying on him to get her back to the Library, and so the mage focused instead on enabling retreat.

"Natalie!" he cried out, "I'm getting us back to the monastery! Don't resist, we're taking the low road!"

A few moments after he spoke, the bracers that Elante wore lit up with golden light for a final time. The ground around himself and Sylvire rippled, before without any resistance, both of them dropped down as if they were standing on water. The ground swallowed them and closed over their heads in an instant, and moments later the same would happen to Natalie.

The magic of the bracers carved a smooth path through the earth and propelled the three along with ease, soil and stone alike parting before them. Elante focused carefully on their positions, the bracers allowing him to sense the rock around them, until they reached the area just outside the monastery. The three emerged back onto the surface without so much as a covering of dirt to say that they'd been beneath the ground at all.

Without stopping to exchange words with Natalie, Elante ran for the stairs, taking them as quickly as he could without jolting the sorceress that his magic carried. In the entrance he passed a bewildered Kirae and her companions and wounded charge. "This way!" he called to them, jerking his head toward the staircase up to the library itself.

Kirae barely had a moment to be confused before Elante had passed her, and the Sylvari hastily sprung back into action. Sending the stretcher-golem ahead of her, Kirae slowly started to ascend the narrow staircase. The steep angle threatened to loose Arrow from his perch, but hastily formed bone wrappings kept him in place as they climbed.

Elante pulled the book that opened the Library door with only a moment's pause to make sure he picked the right one, and hurried inside, leaving the door open for Natalie to close behind them.

Natalie took a few moments to find her bearings once more following the unexpected but effective escape Elante had orchestrated, wasting no time in chasing after the mage with all speed. There she halted, taking that moment to look down at Arrow, who was being carried by the creatively made stretcher beside Kirae. Well, he seemed to be alive at least. Just.

Quick footsteps had Natalie ascending the stairs behind her companions though she halted at the entrance to the library to await the arrival of Marxan and the unfamiliar man that she had passed on her way outside.

Marxan watched as Elante took everyone it seemed except for him and Narruk back to the monastery. A brief look of indignation crossed his face before he let out a sigh. Well, he might as well use his abilities; he needed to practice using this particular set anyway. So, he copied what Elante had done, causing the ground to liquify under his feet.

Within a few moments, he too was transported to the temple, hurrying inside as Elante opened the door. He hadn't done the same process for Narruk as it could be particularly nauseating for those unexperienced with its effects. The body simply was not built to go underground in such a manner, and it often confused the brain.

He peered outside, looking back to Narruk. Even if he couldn't bring Narruk to the temple immediately, he could still protect him on his journey. Nothing would touch him until he was inside this safe haven's walls. He focused on the ground beside Narruk, could feel Narruk's footsteps. This was a simple matter, however he needed to concentrate if he was going to pull this off correctly.

Narruk, though large and hulking within his physique, could be quite swift when he gathered momentum. The wall that Natalie had summoned only hindered him momentarily, and the giant needed only to veer to the right and take a few steps, the monastery in good view. He aimed straight for the library, never stopping. In his hand was the axe, held tightly within his fist. As he sped towards the monastery, Marxan felt the ground beneath the giant's feet. To the sides, walls of stone would form around Narruk as he ran, protecting him from any injuries. He looked up, spotting Marxan and the rest. He had to reach them so that barring the Monastery was possible. If not, he would ward them off from his place outside instead. He still had one useful summon left, at least, and even with his injury he could fight.

He reached the door, crouching low as he carefully placed his staff inside first, then somehow managing to shove his body through the entrance. Because few things were crafted for giants in this world, he'd gotten practice getting used to smaller doorways and buildings. As he entered, he gazed at Marxan and gave him a heavy nod, then edging off to join the group. Marxan nodded back, and released his control over the ground, watching as the walls of stone slid back down beneath the surface. Once that was done, Marxan followed Narruk to meet up with the others.

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Re: Fall Back!

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vejisama on Mon May 09, 2011 10:11 pm

Wall did not falter. Spheres all but amiss. Eyes like venom glared upon the barrier before him as foes vanished from sight, beneath the earths surface. Cowards. His mind raced. His temper boiled. They continued to run. Why did they not just stand and fight as they should have! They were a challenge. They were his challenge. He was meant to vanquish them, to claim the title and the power he'd gain. But they fled.

"The cowardice know's no limits. The wretches continue to run." He vehemently growls, narrowing vermilion oculars. "Enough. This hath gone on for too long, This Kazura shan't play anymore games." He suddenly snaps.

Turning on heel, he takes two strides away before suddenly another step miraculously lands upon air, his worn, tattered, and beaten, figure rising into the sky. It was truly beyond his knowledge that they'd perhaps already successfully escaped the earthen regions beneath that very area, but ignorance with Kazura was never taken for granted. It didn't matter to him where they were. His current temperament had exceeded frightful bounds.

"The ground shall tremble. The earth, split and fissured. And from mine hands, ashen remains and molten earth shall be vomited from the precipice mine wrath bestows..." He mutters, a lofty height achieved.

And it was as if the switch to his semi-held sanity clicked. A deranged look arises upon his face, eyes like hell growing larger with manic, sinister, intent. All the while, laughter echoed throughout his head. Right arm begins to lift from his side, palm facing Terra's exposed flesh, or so it was to him. He was going to wound Terra itself, all in hopes of crushing the cowardice beneath. Regardless of how much energy he'd expended, the remainder would go to this effort.

From that palms nexus, a brilliant sphere took shape, before suddenly leaving palm. And then another. And then another. The pace began to increase, growing to a rapid expulsion of ten, twenty, fifty, one hundred. Exorbitant, incalculable, numbers of the spheres continued to leave his palm, scattered across the Terran soil beneath, explosions tearing apart soil, snowy covering vanishing in plumes of scattered mist and steam. The deformation of the beautiful land continued until the release of the spheres thrummed to a halt, smoke wafting along the brutally marred surface. And with a final cackle, Kazura's palm was consumed by a much more prominant, much larger, sphere that took upon itself release toward the surface. As it took its charge upon the ground, a sudden burst of light leaves that same palm, colliding with the sphere from behind to drastically drive it into the grounds surface, unto which earth parted like the sea, the mammoth sphere viciously chewing its way into the ground until half buried.

With the close of his palm; sphere ignites. Explosive, cataclysmic, the blowback sending him careening back, tattered remnants of outfit senselessly thrown about. As the energy fades, only a crater remains. Large. Deep. A wound inflicted upon Terra, though not significantly large. Large enough for him to assume death to those that he believed to be beneath the surface.

A shame he was too late.

But that was not the thing upon his mind. Upon his mind, he found disinterest now. Cowards. All of them cowards. The entirety of this war was cowards, and if not cowards, weak excuses for opponents. Those he thought a challenge, fled from him. If they were powerful, why did they flee? Sorry excuses for warriors. That wench who'd spoken to him had lied.

And with another glance at his actions, and the entirety of the wars area, he snorts. Turning his back, he chose to leave this ridiculous war. His body fading from sight, he'd seek some much needed time alone. To ponder. To heal.

And to plot the demise of that lying wench...

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