CptNemo
Sargeant
That's what your mom said.
Posts: 136
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Post by CptNemo on Jan 5, 2006 17:47:49 GMT -5
Before this thing stalls, I'm getting it started. This basically how the last one kicked off too, lol. Just go along with it, slaughter anything you like, be creative. Well, thats about it, so get to it!
War Master Sirius gazed across the dark, moonlit fields that laid between him and the city of Aesir. Its high walls were flecked with torch light, and its interior giving off a dull orange glow. He turned on his rocky crag to examine the amassing army, the ground rumbling and the clinking metal of armor ringing through the dark. Dead leaves whipped by in the stiff autumn wind; it was going to be a long, cold winter in the lands.
“Harlem!” Sirius barked.
A shadowed creature stepped up from behind. “Yes?” Harlem hissed.
“How are things proceeding?”
“Excellent. We will be ready by midnight m’Lord.”
“Good, good. Inform once everything is in position. We will want to begin immediately.”
Harlem gave a few more words of praise before venturing off to oversee the movements. Sirius flexed his wings to keep them warm. He would need every bit of energy in the coming hours.
Deep, repeating rumbles sounded from behind, and he turned in time to see the hulking form of the first Brathons coming over the mountain pass. Large, nearly ten times the height of a man. And beastly, capable of taking down a structure in seconds.
Down the hillside, even further ahead of the troops were the siege engines. The first of their deadly cargo fired off silently, the flaming boulders slowly disappearing into the distance and over the city walls. Yes, the main attack would begin shortly.
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Post by Larke on Jan 5, 2006 18:05:06 GMT -5
Victus clenched his clawed hand around the grip of his lance, knuckles cracked and veins buldged for a moment. He sat on the centre of Solvig's back, the twin heads snarled at the disgusting beasts below. Tormenting them by reaching down and snapping large jaws closed inches before faces, more then once they had clasped onto a head or two and pulled the body into the air. The screaming victim torn apart as the two mouths had their fill. Victis simply patted the scaly of the beast and laughed, a gutural half roar laughter.
He could hear flapping of wings above, Creatures from all across the Dark lands had joined the Legion this time. Almost emptying the entire realm of malice and gathering it before the walls of Aesir, Victis had given up trying to comprehend how many creatures marched toward the lands of men.
Shambling undead stood shoulder with hell spawn and traitors. Giant war machines pushed by creatures with more limbs then sense made for the walls of Aesir, the lowest of the Legion marched deftly behind. They didn't know it but the sole purpose of their assault was to thin the numbers of Men.
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Post by madlarkin on Jan 5, 2006 18:26:13 GMT -5
Balphegor stood upon the crest of a large hill, one of many overlooking the large city of Aesir. Hidden beneath his spiked helm, the blood sage's molten eyes burned with hatred as the anticipation of the coming battle started to grow within his corrupt body.
Reaching to his belt, Balphegor took a long, curved dagger from its sheath and without hesitation ran the serrated edge across the palm of his exposed left hand. Dark blood bubbled up from the self-inflicted wound and ran in small rivulets down his wrist, and with a shudder of pleasure, the dark lord lifted the wounded limb to the mouth of his helm, letting the droplets of blood fall into the orifices of the helmet and into his open mouth.
His innards burned with power as he swallowed his own lifeblood, and he fought to keep control of his spasming body as it coursed through his system. "Kortelis..." he growled as he slowly regained control, turning to the figure waiting patiently behind him. Kortelis, his trusted second in command of the Bloodbane warriors, stepped forth quickly, an excited hiss escaping his ragged throat.
"Yesss masster?" his apprentice asked as Balphegor turned to face him. "The feast is almost upon us, trusted aide," he explained to his second in command. "We must prepare for the reaping of mortal flesh by instilling the Thirst." Kortelis nodded and knelt before his master, swelling with pride at the honour of his blessing. Balphegor reached forth and snatched Kortelis's head backwards, gripping the lank hair that hung from the warrior's pallid skull.
Thrusting his ungauntletted hand forwards, Balphegor clenched his fist as his dark blood dripped into Kortelis's open maw. The warrior shuddered with the power of the Thirst instilled within him, and, rising to his feet, tilted his head to the sky and roared, a powerful, bestial sound of rage.
"Ready the troops," Balphegor growled to his aide, fastening his gauntlet back into place and lifting his warscythe. Kortelis turned and marched back down the hill to the ranks of waiting Bloodbane soldiers, quickly barking orders to the hordes as the armies of the Ordio Legio prepared for war.
Balphegor watched momentarily as his troops began to march forth with the rest, before turning his gaze to the sky and uttering a string of guttural words. A large shadow seemed to blot out the sky as it fell towards the ground, closing on Balphegor's position with a terrifying screech of fury. The horrific creature seemed as to crush the blood sage beneath its huge form, but upon reaching him, dug its talons into the ground and came to a halt.
Walking silently up to the Demisaar, Balphegor mounted the creature's back, clutching its tough, oily pelt to steady himself. The Demisaar would wear no harness, and Balphegor would be a fool to try. The dark lord was content to sit upon the creature's unhindered form, and with another growl of unnatural speech, the large beast rose with a flap of its huge wings and took to the sky, swooping round and down to fall in line with the ranks of marching Bloodbane soldiers.
Balphegor raised his demonic scythe Garlash and pointed it towards the city ahead, feeling the fury boiling through the ancient artifact as they approached. Soon, he thought, it will all begin soon...
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Post by Larke on Jan 5, 2006 19:06:31 GMT -5
Victis roared with hatred, despite his insisting his old war brothers had given him command of two thousand men, making up half the second wave of warriors marching quickly towards the walls. His underlings were of every shape imaginable, but he had ensured all were capable of enduring the heavy armour they wore and the two handed weapons held at the ready.
Solvig's two heads snarled and snapped at those in front of it, pushing its way to the fore of the second rank. Victis kept his eyes fixed on the walls before them, well the parts he could see between the mighty Siege Towers and malformed Giants.
Movement on the walls, he was to far away to see exactly what it was. But he knew it was large. Ten claps of thunder filled the air, confused Victis looked up at the clear night sky. Glaring back at the wall he was in time to see the back of one giant tear itself apart, a huge orb now blood red continued on. It carried right into the first ranks of the legion, skipping and bouncing along crushing hundreds of creatures before it came to a halt. Nine other objects had been fired from the walls, decimating war machines and creature alike.
The Giant stumbled forwards, fingering the gaping hole in his body. As though its dumb mind realised what had happened the giant roared in agony, Victis thought it might almost continue on for a moment. But its enormous frame began teetering backwards, what seemed like an eon Victis was transfixed as it fell over. Long gangly arms reached out to either side grabbing for anything it could, its left fingers raked down the side of a Siege tower.
The ground shook as the Giant landed, the ranks seemed to falter for a moment before the Captains and minor commanders roared, swore and attacked those that tried to run. All sembalance of formations was lost as the Ordio Legio charged forwards, holding back the reins of his Monster Victis forced Solvig to slow down. Curious to see what other suprises were in store for the Legion.
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CptNemo
Sargeant
That's what your mom said.
Posts: 136
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Post by CptNemo on Jan 5, 2006 23:22:06 GMT -5
Sirius cursed. He turned to his elite gargoyles who were waiting patiently in the shadows of the rocky outcrop. He had no choice but to give the signal.
“With me!” He bellowed.
He glanced ahead briefly to see the black mass of troops and torch light moving in a frenzy towards the walls. He only hoped the others could follow through in the plans. The ground trembled without stop, and the roar of the attack slowly grew.
Sirius lowered into a squat before bounding into the air several feet. Instinctively, his leathery wings fell into rhythm with the air. The lolling wing beats of his companions fell in behind as he slowly lead them high into the night sky.
Below, the fires of Aesir glowed. Tiny men, merely insects from their height, scambled about the streets and walls. The labyrinth of streets spiraled outwards from a center square. At the opposite side of the attack end ran a small river upon which this particular city grew rich off of.
Sirius circled left and glanced back to see the other twenty seven doing the same in pairs of threes and fours. He lead another loop around to decide an attack path. Yes, they would sweep in from the east, and run the length of the entire wall. The objective: to kill and dismantle as many siege weapons as possible.
He aligned himself directly down the wall, and began the descent. Wind ripped at his tunic and light mail armor, and filled his ears with a roar. Sirius soared in a prone position, gaining speed each second. There was much new equipment that he had not seen before, strange things they were.
A group of men spotted their descent, and maneuvered a wooden piece towards them. They would be on them in ten seconds now, should he call of the attack? Too late. The strange device lit up in a blaze. No, wait. Arrows!
He barrel rolled out of the path of the first one but many more filled its place. Within seconds, the device spat a volley of flaming arrows that would take fifty men to do in a minute. He feared that others behind him did not have the view to dodge them quickly enough. The final few hissed past him, and weathered the storm without incident.
Sirius came down directly ontop of the wicked device, shattering it to the ground. Two soldiers lost their heads before the others could even think to draw weapons. Within a heartbeat, the rest of his flock passed over, crashing into the catapults and unsuspecting soldiers. Sirius watched, a wide smile crossing his pallid, dead flesh. The pack moved on with incredible speed, many never setting foot on the ground, but fly at shoulder height hacking down men as the passed.
Grabbing torches as he moved along the wall, he tossed each on in turn into a wooden catapult or ballista. The oil that preserved their wood frames went up immediately. The first gatehouse laid just ahead, bodies of the fallen littering the walkways. Some were still alive, but didn’t prove to be a threat; they would all bleed out in minutes or so anyways.
A file of armored troops with pikes and poleaxes were moving up an access ramp. He leapt over and flared his powerful wings out to a maximum span. Many were knocked off to fall fifty feet, give or take, the others were quickly dispatched. The blood and chaos of battle consumed him.
A ripple of thunder sounded from below, and he felt the sharp stings of arrows…or whatever these thing were. He examined his body in shock, he indeed did have arrows sticking in his leathery wings, but that didn’t matter. More cracks of thunder sounded from below, and the invisible things struck him in the same prickling manner.
He started to turn towards them, but the blood seeping down his arm and leg told him not too. He took off into the sky, back to find Victus and anyone else he could warn. Whatever these things were, they certainly could kill. And perhaps what bothered him most was that they could kill at a range, and not like an arrow, these packed much more power.
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Post by tombxlordxsabre on Jan 6, 2006 18:15:14 GMT -5
S'dala, Lord of Blades, sighed at the pathetic, unorganized attack on the great walls. Already, he could tell it wouldn't be but a few hours before the foolhardy Legio was put into a hasty retreat. He turned his back on the seething mass of beasts, men, and hellish creatures.
His flaming sabres had not been drawn this day, and he figured he would not deign to draw them for some time. S'dala wouldn't join this battle. The ground shook as another one of the damned human siege engine's ammunition landed nearby. S'dala left quickly, he needed to see no more here.
He made a large arc around the city, and arrived at the banks of the river, west of Aesir. The banks were heavily wooded, providing plenty of cover for the twelve score shadow assassins under S'dala's direct command. The leader dropped from a low hanging bough of an ancient green conifer tree.
"When will we see action? My men wish to serve as best we can, and sitting in wait does not suit us very well."
S'dala made a pacifying gesture with his hands. "Be calm, my associate. I've just come from the War Masters' pavilion. They assure me reinforcements come from the west, from Idor and Jio within the week."
Shadowmaster Fain scowled, and jumped back into the tree.
S'dala shrugged. There would be more than enough to handle for all of them in the coming days.
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Post by madlarkin on Jan 6, 2006 18:49:32 GMT -5
Balphegor gripped the pelt of the Demisaar tightly as his winged steed swept down towards the ground, arching directly towards a formation of tightly packed swordsmen.
With a ferocious screech of fury, the Demisaar opened its gaping jaws and snapped cleanly through a screaming foot soldier, savagely mutilating the eviscerated hunks of flesh.
The winged behemoth barrelled into the rest of the formation as it came to a halt, scattering armoured men into the air with its huge bulk. Before the foot troops could regain their bearings, the hellish creature had torn apart three more of their rank, mercilessly butchering them with its razor sharp talons in the blink of an eye.
Atop the hideous beast, Balphegor roared in triumph as he watched the pitiful men fleeing from the wrath of the Demisaar. The sheer amount of bloodshed was almost too much for the powerful blood sage, and with a guttural growl he leapt from the Demisaar and landed a few metres before the quailing swordsmen.
Balphegor made a short gesture with his head to the creature behind him, and, quick as a flash, the Demisaar leapt into the air once more, searching for fresh prey. Turning back to face the fearful swordsmen, he noticed that the cowardly soldiers of man had finally managed to compose themselves, and stood with his scythe held loosely in one hand as they began to approach him.
Obviously they did not rate him as much of a threat. A mistake they would pay for with their lives. The first group of swordsmen charged him with a half-hearted battlecry, swinging their heavy two-handed blades towards his red-armoured form. With a blur of motion, Garlash was unleashed, the demonic weapon slicing cleanly through blades and flesh alike. Two of the charging warriors fell wordlessly as they were eviscerated, whilst another fell to his knees, choking on his own blood as the gaping wound in his back sprayed his life fluids out onto the ground.
With a snarl of glee, Balphegor spun and beheaded another soldier, reaching out and catching his lifeless head as it fell and pouring the poor soul's arterial fluids into his open maw. As the remainder of the formation's soldiers approached, Balphegor lifted the head of their comrade into the air before him, clinging to the stringy hair still attached to it. The soldiers faltered in their charge as they saw his horrific display, and, with a deep chuckle of dark laughter, Balphegor threw the bloodless limb into their midst, causing them to flee from his insatiable bloodlust with unmitigated fear.
A familiar battlecry drew the dark lord's attention, and as he turned to face the source of the noise, he saw his own ranks of Bloodbane warriors charging towards the city gates, whooping furiously and waving vicious curved blades. A lipless smile crossed Balphegor's face behind the horrific metallic mask of his helmet as he crossed the plains and fell in step with his blood crazed soldiers, positioning himself beside the leading figure of kortelis.
His trusted second merely snarled in recognition, too far gone by the Thirst to truly acknowledge his master. The charging horde was about twenty metres from the city when the sky above them lit up with a cloud of vicious lights, which arced down towards their running formation. Balphegor growled at this new and sudden threat, and quickly moved aside as a a burning rain of incendiary projectiles shot down upon them.
A small portion of his troops fell in their charge as they were impaled by the flaming arrows, their twitching corpses igniting as they dropped to the ground. Another three troopers were engulfed by flames but continued to charge regardless of the pain. Eventually Balphegor cut them down angrily with his scythe, after another two of his soldiers caught aflame from the close proximity of them.
"Protect yourselves!" he snarled, lifting his own blood-red iron shield as an example. His warriors followed suit and lifted their own defensive shields, blocking most of the next barrage of flaming arrows from atop Aesir's walls. As they closed within the last few metres, the sky was lit once again, only this time much brighter as a huge ball of flame coursed angrily through the sky and towards their rapidly moving formation.
Balphegor could not warn them in time as the projectile came crashing down dead in their midst, igniting with a loud whoosh and instantly torching seven of his warriors. Balphegor's cloak caught fire as he stepped back from the harsh incandescence, and he found himself unable to continue with such lowered numbers. Screaming in anger and rage at the denial of his feast, Balphegor angrily kicked one of the smouldering corpses at his feet, before addressing his remaining troops. "Fall back!" he snarled, cursing in his ancient Nepherim tongue as he called his Demisaar to his aid once more.
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Post by Larke on Jan 6, 2006 19:03:36 GMT -5
Victus snarled as another of the giant projectiles landed amongst the swarming infantry it sent bodies flying as it rolled along the soft plain, finally embedding itself in the earth fifty yards from where it first landed.
The assault was in faltering, Siege towers and Giants littered the earth. All victims from the Cannons mounted along the wall, warnings were filtering back from the fronts that the Aesirians had invisible arrows that caused more damage. Victus snarled in anger another siege tower collapsed, Black shapes dipped in along the walls tearing at the defenders.
Some of the flying creatures swept over the walls and down above the ranks of the Legio, their wings beat with a burdened effort. Large objects were carried beneath each creature; some fell down towards the Legio infantry with speed. The night sky illuminated with each object landing, impressive fireballs roared into the sky.
"These Aesirians are full of surprises." Victus grunted, watching as one of the creatures swept down towards him. Giant leathery wings spanned a good seven meters, bearing a thin body that stretched out both ends.
"Wyvern!" the OrdioLegio members capable of common speak shouted, its lizard like head was fixed intently on Solvig and his rider. The Demonic beast Solvig, not one for idle waiting charged forwards. Raising his lance upwards Victus roared as the distance quickly closed.
The Wyvern lifted itself higher with two beats of its wings, keeping itself well above the reach of Solvig. As it dipped in to attack the Demon mount Victus thrust his lance forwards, catching the beast clean through the neck.
It cried out in pain as the lance snapped, leaving the tip of the dark oak protruding both sides. Before he could react a large talon had ripped Victus off his saddle and pulled him high up into the air. The heavy chain armour around his waist stopped the claws of the beast slicing Victus to ribbons. Using his own claws Victus tore chunks of scales and flesh from the leg of the Wyvern.
It roared and tried to snap at him with his mouth, a swift kick with his steel boots deterred the beast. Digging his claws in further the Wyvern let its grip of Victus go, hoping to drop him from a great hight. Keeping his left firmly clasped into its leg Victus stabbed his right claws higher up on its leg, lifting himself up and then slashing at the Wyverns belly with his now free left hand.
The beast seemed to have got tired of its unwanted rider, rolling onto its back it snapped at him again. Barely avoiding the gaping maw Victus grabbed onto the broken lance end, letting go of its leg as it reared its head back Victus found himself on its neck. It roared as he wrenched on the lance end, using it as a makeshift rein he forced the Wyverns head downwards.
The Wyvern and Victus swept in low above the Legio members, he pushed harder and forced the beast to come crashing to a halt. Flying through the air on his own this time Victus crashed into the ranks of soldiers around him. He was up in an instant bounding towards the broken Wyvern as it fought to get to its feet, dodging past its snapping head Victus wrenched the Lance end from its neck and stabbed it through the top of its skull in one swift move.
Ignoring the cheering Legion members Victus climbed onto the top of the Wyvern and glared at the walls of Aesir, the attack was in full retreat now. It didn't matter for they would try again another day; the snarling of Solvig broke his gaze. Finding his mount waiting patiently for him next to the Wyvern corpse Victus leapt onto its back and climbed into the saddle.
"Where were you?" he asked to the beast and patting its two heads before directing it to the safety of the camp.
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CptNemo
Sargeant
That's what your mom said.
Posts: 136
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Post by CptNemo on Jan 6, 2006 19:34:57 GMT -5
Disgusting. Absolutely no reason for it! He watched as the early morning light slowly moved across the valley. The entire plain of attack was darkened with bodies and equipment, and the aerial plans obviously didn’t fall through. Sure, they ravaged most the entire length of it, but the fallen were quickly replaced, and the equipment restored.
The city was not entirely unscathed. Plumes of greasy smoke raised from various points, and the middle gate looked as if it could fall with some more siege. He turned to Victus, who was abnormally quiet.
“Again, we have underestimated them,” Sirius said calmly.
“It was to be somewhat expected. And they panicked, the main regiments that is. It would have fallen if it weren‘t for that.” He never once took his glaring eyes off the city.
“Indeed. And these new devices? What do you make of them? They can kill at range with surprising ease. I took minor wounds from them, but I also noticed a score of marks on my armor.”
It was hard to tell what was going through his mind. He merely snorted.
“And of our friend Olis? Any word on when he is arriving? We will need him now more than ever.”
Again, no reply. So difficult at times. Sirius wandered off to check on his men, fourteen of which fell at the walls. That left them with thirteen, plus himself. He couldn’t shrug the fact of defeat off. This was not the way to start a crusade, it’s too demoralizing to the men.
They would have to live with it nonetheless. More troops were coming in by the hour, as well as fresh siege engines. He figured they could spare a day or two, especially if it was going to be done right this next time.
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Post by Jerok on Jan 6, 2006 23:04:21 GMT -5
Largo stepped out from behind Victus. "I have arrived. I have heard of your attack on the city, and these new weapons of war. I myself have a company of new weapons. At night hold the attack, and by midnight you will have the main gate and wall surrounding it toppled for your legions. Promise me Victus!"
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Post by Larke on Jan 7, 2006 3:03:34 GMT -5
Victus grunted. Turning to Largo, he had forgotton what his old friend had looked like.
"Do not be so sure the Legion will willingly attack the walls again. The more we shout and threaten them the more likely they are to rebel and upsurp us. No we already have a plan to get inside the city with less casualties, remember our Duis friend S'dala? he is currently waiting along the riverbanks for the reinforcements, if all goes well he and his men will be inside the walls using the manlings own barges."
Either his companions did not reply or he simply tuned them out Victus wasn't sure, a smell that did not fit in filled the air that carried up from the camps below. Snorting the yellow snot out of his nostrils Victus breathed deeply, letting the multitude of smells and tastes register.
"True Bloods." He snarled.
OOC: Check the fluff stuff.
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Post by madlarkin on Jan 7, 2006 7:24:59 GMT -5
The mood of the Bloodbane camp was sombre as the surviving warriors sat around the growing fire in its midst. They busied themselves with stripping their fallen of their equipment, piling the scorched and punctured armour and shields near their supply tent.
The bodies of the deceased Bloodbane warriors were hungrily gorged upon by their still-living comrades, their only solution to baiting the ravenous Thirst. The blood of the fallen gave the warriors strength, a burning desire to seek revenge upon their enemies, and a way to become one with the dead, so that they could be part of the battle once more.
Balphegor stood away from his grouped warriors, his burning gaze locked on the distant city of Aesir. The ruptured heart clasped in his armoured grip split along its edge as he clenched his fist, and without taking his gaze from the city, Balphegor lifted the dripping organ to his mouth, draining the fluids that ran through his helm's mouth orifices.
"The Thirst will yet be satisfied," said Kortelis, joining his overlord. Drying blood was plastered across his mouth, his eyes bright as the life source coursed through his body. Balphegor nodded, a sneer of contempt crossing his face as he continued to watch the city. Small plumes of smoke rose from the battlements upon the walls, and the gate had been close to shattering, but there had been no crippling damage done to the bastion of men.
"They will be celebrating a glorious victory within their walls," Balphegor growled, his anger threatening to overcome him. "It will be true folly to endure the same error their own enemy made," he continued, "we underestimated our foe and their strange new capabilities. If they believe our forces are defeated from a single repel, they will soon regret their overconfidence."
"They will pay for their insults in preventing the Feast," Kortelis said with a snarl. "Oh yes," Balphegor said in a low, menacing tone, "they will pay."
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Post by Jerok on Jan 7, 2006 11:38:51 GMT -5
Largo's eyes appeared to light on fire at those words. He drew his enchanted sword, the hatred in his eyes reflected in the white knuckle grip he had on the hilt. He turned to the camp, "Where are they?"
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anarchyangel
Corporal
Being Bloodthirsty is like filling your mouth with salt...
Posts: 44
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Post by anarchyangel on Jan 7, 2006 19:48:24 GMT -5
Bane had felt the tremors and heard the screams of war long before he came upon the blasted, autumn landscape before the city of Aesir. By the time he arrived, unfortunately, the sound of war machines and charging regiments had been quite diminished; replaced by frustrated roars and the rattle and grind of busy camps. He had been hoping to arrive for the first assault, but it hadn’t worked to his liking. He snarled in contempt; guessing by the sound he perceived so sharply from such a distance, that the Ordio Legio had failed in its initial attack
He parted through a cluster of dead trees, his heavy black hooves crushing the grass he walked upon, and as he marched over a rise he received the full view of the battle ground ahead. Smoke billowed lazily over the destruction of the corpse-ridden field; flames flickering among the wreckage of fallen war machines. To his right was the mighty citadel of Aesir; a scholarly city that fronted the craft of technology and knowledge. To his left were thousands of camp fires, men and beasts and undead shifting around like a swarm of angry ants among them. The Ordio Legio.
It was to his left that he turned, his massive centaur frame chinking as chain mail and embossed black iron rubbed against each other. Reaching a bare, muscle-slabbed arm behind him, he tore a jagged greatsword from it’s sheathe; if any fool tried to stop him from going to the Legion, they would be most unfortunate. He smirked, his red eyes dilating at the very thought of a chance to shed blood.
Rearing and releasing a war howl, Bane started to gallop forward; hooves tearing ground apart beneath them. Branches were hacked off with ease if they threatened to disturb his charge and the fires grew closer and closer – however, bane stopped dead after barely travelling three hundred meters, back hooves skidding as a scent came to his nostrils.
Beneath the smell of ash, death and pain came the smell of blood; but not just any blood. It was pure, undiluted blood that he smelled; irresistible to his unquenchable mind. He felt his vampiric senses surge and with a snort he jerked his head around, intent on finding the source; The true blood that definitely didn’t belong near the Ordio Legio, but definitely belonged to his merciless fangs.
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Post by Larke on Jan 8, 2006 1:22:38 GMT -5
Victus simply pointed within the ranks milling below, his sharpened senses picked out the seven cloaked figures pushing through the Legio. Remembering his companion Victus stretched one clawed finger out, pointing to the True Bloods. Snarling he leapt down the rocky outlook, his booted feet kicking up chunks of rocks and gravel as he slid down the embankment.
Leaping, Victus sailed through the air. His bestial voice issuing a warning to the Legio close to the True Bloods. Landing with a heavy thud before the cloaked figures Victus let out a guttural roar, snatching a halbred from one the Legion members near him.
"Seize them!" he shouted moving forwards to block their paths Victus stabbed at the lead with the halbred. The Legion members moved forwards quickly, keeping weapons at the ready they circled around them.
"There is no need for violence."
"We'll be the judge of that." Largo hissed.
"The coming war is inevitable filthy beasts. But that does not mean innocents are to die, tomorrow the civilian population leaves Aesir. We seek your assurance that they will not come to harm." The lead True blood spoke, his words were soft and yet firm.
"Assurance granted." Victus snarled lunging forwards, hacking downwards at the True Bloods neck. There was a blur of motion and a firm hand was clasped around the halbred's haft, the True Blood's face peered up from under the hood. Victus snarled and slashed his claw across it, bright crimson blood spilled on the ground.
The six remaining True bloods were set upon by the Legio members surrounding them, one escaped the frenzied hacking and slashing and made off into the night. **
Slicing the halbred down on the neck of the lead True blood, Victus severed the head. Pulling it out from the cloak he gazed on the features of a man that would be no older then his thirties, odd the only True Bloods and Duis he had seen had an ancient look about them.
"Assemble the Commanders, we hold council tonight"
**Leave for anarchyangel
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