Snippet #947374

The battle was once again prolonged. So many convenient distractions for the Lamia Prince, rendering the Wind General unable to follow suit and continue his assault once he had Shokunen on the run. Suddenly, the battlefield was obscured by a thick fog, rendering Fong nearly blind as his scowl deepened. This was bad. He had no idea what the Snake will do during this convenient obstruction. Suddenly, a roar. Fong knew there was a feint coming, as it seemed like it was the Lamia's way of fighting. Suddenly, a thump to his front. Fong remained loose, his body ready, if a little tense. When the second strike came, he turned to his side, expecting the Lamia to explode from the mist. It was too late then, as that was yet another bout of trickery. Shokunen jumped out, spinning his tail around for another blow. Fong, in all his shark-like survival instincts turned to meet the threat.

His body paused abruptly, his form stiffening up and his eyes spacing out slightly.

I've reached over the boundaries of my limit. The General thought dully, and the blow that came from Shokunen would only further him from that. It was a powerful smashing whip of the tail connecting cleanly with the mans lower torso. The Gale Bringer let out a small groan, his expert discipline slipping. He was sent flying, the strength in his tail a remarkable thing to behold. Skidding across the muddy ground, he bounced several times before sliding to a halt next to the Akaldai Pass' walls.

The General of the Wind clutched not at his wounded stomach where the stomach hit, but his upper left shoulder. With shaking hands, slightly numb from shock, he slowly unbuttoned the first few knots of his robe. Shaking off the left sleeve, he revealed a mysterious ailment afflicting his body. He spat at the sight of it, raging contempt lighting the Wind General's cold heart.

It was a small, black tumor-like form, spread out over the front of his left shoulder. It wasn't very thick, but it was very wide, spreading nearly to his neck. He would have to get a collar for his robe soon. But it wasn't the tumor that required large body coverage with his clothes, it was the thing surrounding the tumor. Small, black branches spreading from the tumor-like blob, some short, other reaching down his side nearly touching his pelvis. Very small branches, like those on a tree, or on the wings of a monarch butterfly. The rain pelted at it, but it gave the General no relief. He wished he could rip the thing from his body, but the last time he tried to excise it, he had suffered massive bleeding and had to use an air lock to prevent himself from dying due to blood loss. The tumor had completely attached itself all the way along the main artery to and from both the arm and neck area. Slowly, the fog faded and the General drew his sleeve back on.

Suddenly, hundreds of white-garbed men and women, from all races descended, beginning to fight the Nightmarians causing the magic block. "Reinforcements? This is no group I have ever heard of." He muttered, sitting up against the wall of the Pass. He felt his stomach. The blow had caused massive internal trauma. He was lucky he wasn't dead. A curse behind the blessing.

"Feh. Give me five minutes." Fong muttered under his breath, his body slumping forward tiredly.

---

It seemed to be going better, what with the harpy mercenary group swooping in. She had heard of them, only briefly. The murder, something used to classify a group of crows, was lead by a man named Visar. A man missing a leg, as a prominent feature of his body. "Must be tough being a harpy." She giggled, watching them swoop beyond her sight- into the clouds.

She was only observing the battle, but suddenly, groups of white-garbed men descended from the sky, releasing powerful blasts of magic and beginning to slaughter those on the Savage side. How racist.

A group landed near her, throwing a few blasts of flame at the Nightmarian Spider. She reared up, the fire blasting off her lower abdomen. Searing heat lanced through her body as she stumbled back in confusion. "What's this then?" She asked herself. Normally, fire attacks would simply bounce off her, flaring against her armor and winking out. This one managed to scorch a bit of it, the magic barely breaking through the magic repellant seal her armor possessed.

"That hurt, honey!" She exclaimed, watching them draw weapons. Now that was a mistake. "Looks like you all need a good spanking!" She reached down, and pulled out the Mourning Star. As they slashed, she immediately noticed the difference in strength compared to a normal soldier's standards, or even a Lieutenant's. She bounced back, wincing slightly as her burned armor heated her insides uncomfortably. They leapt forward again, and Mercy raised her legs, lashing back so they had to guard. They tried to retreat, but one of them was too slow. The spiked ball whipped past, having no trouble crushing his skull and sending his brains splattering everywhere on the ground. The other assailants did not seem deterred, though they seemed slightly appalled at the carnage her new weapon reaped. Once again they darted in, attempting to subdue the Nightmarian Spider permanently.

"Come and get it... boys."

With that, she leapt down, her body easily managing to scale the wall toward the bottom. She had been observing from the far end, and made particular care to shift so if she had to duck into the pass, she would land just behind the army, where the ranks of men were thinner.