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Post by dogaro on Jan 10, 2006 14:41:15 GMT -5
Dinari Rose from the surface, now human, save for the wings. He rose still feet off of the surface, carrying himself form the dark sea toward a barracks slightly away from the fray. There were men inside, dozens of them awakening from sleep to aid in the defense of the city. These were the off duty watchmen and who had orders to rest, and be ready to come back to duty at any order. The dispatch to assist apparently hadn't reached them, a dead carrier lay somewhere in the field. The watchmen had been alerted by the rampaging of the vampiric and demonic warriors entering the city.
They saw the human coming toward them, a human who looked small compared to the enemy, a human who couldn't possibly do anything to harm them. The first mad fell to the ground, unconscious for hours, if not days. Blades soon came out and the men attacked. These men thought of themselves as a mighty force facing a simple mage. They had yet to notice the wings. Magic surrounded Dinari as he flew, speed unmatched by anything, be it arrow or bird. With the blunt of the blade, He quickly dealt with every one of the enemies, finally landing in the middle of the incapacitated bodies.
Raising his arms he summoned the earth, raising the still living bodies and offering them to the darkness, warriors and demons alike. Walking to the barracks, he felt the scent of sweaty men, the men who lay outside bound by stone. This, he thought, would be where he would lay, where he would perform the ritual.
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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 10, 2006 15:34:45 GMT -5
Bane and barely half of his original force stormed towards the North-Eastern side of Aesir, thunderous impacts of super-charged bolts tearing holes in their ranks. Bane himself had barely missed being hit, his armor scorched by the closeness of the terrible blue lightning. Each time he heard a thunder-like roar, he knew moments later an explosion would be among them, slaughtering a dozen centaurs each time. He snarled at the mockery the flying dragons made of his gravity-trapped soldiers. His only consolation right now was that they had slaughtered over half the escaping civilians. There was still many left to run, that was true, but they would spread fear in other villages or die soon anyways. Ahead of him, Bane could see spires of smoke and flame in the rising, cloudy dawn; the clash and screams of battle drowning out the stampeding of two hundred, fully armored cavalry. This would be the final battle and though Bane was unsure of what was going on in the city, the Legion was in for a nasty surprise, whether they were winning or not. A bolt tore apart the stony ground next to him, sending chunks of rock to bounce off his black armor and dig into his bare forearms. Within moments the cuts started to regenerate, fuelled to heal quickly by the blood he had drunk earlier. He bellowed, his voice still managing to be heard over the din of war. “Faster, my brethren! The battle is ahead and there we can fight those in reach of our blades! Be merciless, my kin!” War howls of renewed hope replied his fearsome command as they came closer to the river at the city’s eastern side. The dragons seemed to be distracted by the raging battle inside the walls of the city, and with relief Bane watched them alter their course to go there. In the sky he could see some flying beasts, so they would perhaps be able to take down the dragons. Or else they would all be in deep trouble. “With me, my kin, to war!” He screamed, his eyes blazing with a heady red glow as they began traversing through the river water. His bloodlust was starting to keen in his mind again, and soon Bane knew he would have to release himself into a full frenzy rather than a controlled one. Only then could he truly gorge himself to the point of feeling sated. This would also keep him from destroying a chunk of the Legion in a frenzied outburst later on; every now and then he needed to drink enough blood that it would keep him sane for a time. Or else, frenzied madness would overwhelm his mind and he would butcher anything in his path, friend or foe, for days on end until his energy was exhausted. This major battle would give him the perfect opportunity for his full frenzy, all he needed was to find an enemy force with no Ordio Legio nearby for him to slay in the uncontrollable release. He smiled savagely at the thought, ready to give in to the godlike sensations that accompanied his frenzy. "Let the carnage begin." he hissed to himself. **See the fluff for info on the dragons *** Just a note for some of our writers, if you have time please spell check; it only takes a moment or your time. Its difficult to want to read parts that have little punctuation and lots of spelling errors. happy reading and writing !
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Post by Grim on Jan 10, 2006 17:25:08 GMT -5
Zeke and his Elites saw that the rest of the mercs has entered and begun their slaughter. He glanced back at Vamp seeing his mouth and chine glistening in the still fresh blood. and called to him. "Vlad! We are moving into the city would you care to join us for some fresh victims? We are regrouping at the tavern im sure we can of filled many a barrel with the humans blood for your men by then, see you there friend!" Zeke thought for a moment. Friend!? A word he had not used in over 200 years, something about the Vampyre seem familiar. At that he ducked below an incoming swing of a sword and thrust his wrist blade through the mans throat and tore his head from his shoulders. "Elites! With me!" and he and his Elites made there way through the thick formations of human soldiers towards the tavern.
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Post by Larke on Jan 10, 2006 18:26:04 GMT -5
The death of Victus!
Victus snarled as he lashed out again with his flail reveling in the shattering of the warriors skull, tearing them free he swung again tearing skin away from anothers exposed face.
A dark Miasma caught his eye to the east, as though drifting through the buildings themselves. Ignoring it for the moment Victus returned to smashing his weapon downwards at the dozens of humans cutting at Solvigs sides, the beast howled in agony as a spear was impaled through its chest. Snapping down on the attacker one of Solvig's heads tore into the man, then to Victus' shock a axe blade sliced clean through its neck.
The beast recoiled violently, rearing up it cast Victus from his saddle and onto the body choked bridge. The human warriors quickly lunged on Solvig hacking at its belly with their blades, several spears were stabbed into it as it reared up higher. As it lunged down the men beneath scattered, leaving their spears in place. Solvig's own weight carried the spears cleanly through its body as it returned to all fours.
Gazing up Victus could see two massive forms borne on wings above the city, bolts of lightning striking down into the heart of the advancing Legionares.
Climbing to his feet Victus snatched a discarded long sword from the ground, he looked over his shoulder at the ranks of men and beasts as they tore each other apart. He could see S'dala hacking a grisly path through the men, but even for him the press of bodies was great.
Turning his attention on the encircling warriors around him Victus gave the vicious snarl and leapt forwards, thrusting his blade through the firsts chest he ripped it free quickly and slashed across anothers. Circling he hacked down onto anothers shoulder, a sharp pain in his side caused him to lose his grip.
Turning he slashed his claws across a mans helmeted head, tearing through metal and bone with ease. Stepping forwards he grabbed a throat with his left hand and tore it from the neck whilst catching a sword arm and snapping the bones in it with his right.
A blade was thrust into his back, roaring in pain Victus grabbed behind him spinning around even as he did so. Finding purchase on a neck guard he lifted it up in the air slashing his other hand across an exposed belly, intestines spilled forth as he cast it aside finding his next the same time as a halbred cut down into Victus shoulder. wrenching the weapon free he bashed the previous owner in the face with the blunt end before swinging it one handed and cleaving into the mans side.
Two more blades were thrust into him from his right as another hacked deep into his leg. Dropping to one knee Victus fell forwards, avoiding the axe blade that swung towards his head. Tearing open the Achilles tendon of one warrior Victus dragged him down, using his body to block a spear tip. Throwing the lifeless husk aside, it kept the spear lodged in it and tore it free of its wielders hands.
Tackling the man with all his weight Victus knocked him clean over and rolling backwards, Victus ended up perched on his back clasping the helmet around the mans head he pulled it back listening to the mans screams. Before he slammed it into the paved bridge, caving most of the skull in with one blow.
A spear protruded from Victus’ lower abdomen with a shower of blood, gripping below the tip he wrenched it through his own body with a bestial roar. Climbing to his feet once more Victus turned on the warrior behind him, hurling the spear into his chest Victus flung the man backwards.
His vision began to dim as blood flowed freely from the multiple wounds across his body; there was the sound of heavy footfalls behind him once more. Staggering around he was confronted by a galloping horse and its armoured rider, lance levelled at him. Finding strength in his body yet Victus crashed forwards into the flank of the horse as the lance barely missed his head, the rider and mount crashed to the ground sprawling with the neighing of the horse sending a chill down those nearby.
The knight righted himself pulling a Long sword from its scabbard as he did so, Victus bounded towards him as the Knight readied his sword to strike. Barrelling forwards Victus felt the cold steel pass through his ribs; ignoring it he tore the Knights neck guard free and gripped the exposed throat with his sharp claws. But his energy had left him and Victus’ grip lessened as the soldier twisted his blade sharply
The knight let him sink to the ground, holding his blade up victoriously he roared. Victus felt hand still on the leg of the knight, gripping tightly he wrenched the man down. Rolling atop him Victus grabbed hold of his throat once more, tearing it free with a shower of blood.
Victus slumped over, rolling onto his back amongst the piles of dead. His chest heaved up and down slowly, he hadn’t realised it earlier but somehow his breastplate had been shattered. Shards of bone had punctured his lungs and heart, he could hear the shouts of anger as the Ordio Legio broke through the humans and rushed to his defence.
S'dala's face appeared above him, a grim look covered his features. But Victus barely noticed as his life slipped away, his thoughts were filled with what lay ahead of him now. His mind raced, hoping some words of wisdom would present themselves to be his last.
"For the Ordio Legio brothers! Onwards!" he roared, using his last ounce of strength. He slumped down again, his bestial eyes slowly closed. A final exhale of breath signalled his demise.
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Post by tombxlordxsabre on Jan 10, 2006 21:16:12 GMT -5
S'dala watched Victus fall in horror. The men's morale would falter if their leader fell. S'dala pressed through the bodies, hacking simulataneously with his swords, spinning in deadly, firey arcs. He reached Victus, and almost without pause, lunged down to lend his bodily support to the dying War Master. The War Master had thought his dying breath breathed, but wheezed another, and another, the call of battle reinvigorating him.
With only the vaguest inkling of what he was going to do, S'dala guided Victus towards the nearest stairs that led to a high guard tower. Victus weakly fended off blows with a salvaged sword. He was quickly fading. They reached the top, S'dala knocking two crossbowmen back off the stairs. Many stares were drawn upwards as S'dala called upon the twin fire demons in his swords to engulf the battlement's men in flame.
Victus smiled grimly at S'dala.
'What'll it be... then? Shall I... shall I take a... a dive'
The battle was met in full on the south side of the tower. S'dala braced Victus for the few more steps. This time, S'dala's flames roared high into the sky as Victus raised his bloodied sword overhead. He nodded his thanks to S'dala, and with a last burst of strength dove, literally headlong into the fray below.
Emboldened, Victus's men pressed harder against the aghast Aesireans. What force could compare to this, the horrified guard wondered, this force that would dive from battlements to join battle?
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CptNemo
Sargeant
That's what your mom said.
Posts: 136
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Post by CptNemo on Jan 10, 2006 21:31:11 GMT -5
Sirius skimmed less than a foot over the river, heading for the main bridge. To his right stood the massive walls of the city keep, the high parapets and towers lined with ballistae and men. Bodies and rubble drifted lazily along, and occasionally he would lower the hand into the water to make a small hydroplane.
The Legio was gaining on the mass, pushing them back to the north slowly but surely. Sirius pulled up and circled to examine the scene. The main combat appeared to be turning into a slaughter as the humans turned to flee, but only caught in the charge of the rear ranks. But something caught his eye. A group of the Legio huddle around near the south side. He watched as his companion S’dala dragged the limp form of Victus towards a battlement. Then, without warning, tossed him off.
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Post by iceblood on Jan 10, 2006 21:40:20 GMT -5
Fraenor's Caut walked forward, it's small legs pumping fast and hard. Fraenor heard battle, beyond. He pressed his mount on, the forres around him began to vanish, he could see it now, a huge battle. The city of Aesir set ablaze was being swarmed by the never ending horde of vile, evil creatures and men. Fraenor looked up to the sky for guidence.
He felt refreshed and calm, he knew what he must do. He charged into battle, out number a 1000 to 1, he flanked a force of traitor humans. They paniced at the magneficent sight of Fraenor. Three of the human's were torn down with the first swing, some turned to face Fraenor but we're chopped to peices. The dark humans we're too far into their charge to re- position their force. In 15 minutes 100 already layed dead, Fraenor kept hacking away, even though the dark humans had re- organized their force and began to cause problems for Fraenor. Slashing through another human, Fraenor knew his suprise was over and it was time to retreat.
The scattered dark humans came behind him, his mount lashed out swallowing a human and smashing another with it's powerful tail, two more tooken down by another one of Fraenors power swings. Atleast another 50 spread out behind him, he juked 5 and took the head of another, but still the enemy closed in around him.
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Post by dogaro on Jan 10, 2006 21:56:15 GMT -5
Dinari knelt in the center of the barracks, drawing the spirit of fire around him. He thought of the sins he had committed, and those he would commit in the name of his gods. the ground bubbled as the flames lightly licked the earth. rising from the ground, the fires danced around him. He knew pain now, only the pain he had experienced today, and he knew that his gods demanded pain. They demanded his flesh as payment for the flesh of the humans. Flesh he would give.
He felt within himself and decided to do it fast, or face not doing it at all. He touched himself with magic, touched his skin, touched his flesh.
Blood spilled from the mangled form that stood amid the flames and a roar like none other echoed throughout the city, and miles beyond. Flames devoured the barracks, reaching toward the sky and spreading to buildings around it. Flesh lay at the feet of the monstrosity, consumed in flames. The bubbling mass charred and turned to vapor, and the monstrosity collapsed in the ashes of the barracks, which had been quickly consumed in the magical flame. As this creature lay in black cinders, flesh grew again.
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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 10, 2006 22:48:42 GMT -5
Bane and his troops stampeded into the shattered gates of the city, howling cries of battle lust. Bane held back, letting Vardek lead the decimated swarm of Vimbaal, and he himself stood on a mound of corpses to observe the city. The closest buildings and towers lay in ruin and flaming tar ran the walls, searing black lines into the stone. The screams and roars of the masses were like a song to the Superbaal; heavy with the beat of war drums. The destruction was beautiful to him as he caressed every bleeding wound and dying human on the ground with blazing red eyes.
In the sky far above the four dragons circled, throwing down bolts when it seemed safe enough not to kill humans in the process - a hard task considering the chaos that the battle had become. The very ground was a mixture of human and beast, and more fell dead upon it as the legion slowly pressed the human lines back towards the North of Aesir. Bane smiled at the success before him.
His smile faded however, as he watched the demise of Victus. The mighty warlord heaved against multiple grievous injuries, held up by the shadowy warrior, S’dala, on a wall. Watching the bear-like Victus carefully while hacking down a stray human, Bane saw the man leap from the wall above into the chaos below; roaring a last cry of defiance. He dipped his head in brief recognition of the War Master’s passing; he respected the brutal character though he had only known him very briefly.
It was a good death for a warrior to die in battle.
‘And speaking of battle…’ Bane thought, his eyes flaring anew as he began forward through the lines; Ironcutter hacking through any humans he came across. Ahead of him was the bridge to the north part of the city and that was where the fighting smelled most fresh and bloody; just the way he wanted it. The frenzy pricked at his mind’s edge.
He was nearly knocked off his feet by a sudden startling impact, followed by three others to his left. With a glance, he took in the scene of the four thunder dragons now on land, tearing droves of beast and undead apart in seconds. Bane narrowed his eyes, debating whether to attack the mighty creatures or not – he would need his full frenzy to even slay one of the massive creatures. And he was surrounded by his own troops…
To hell with the beasts and undead if they get in my way, he decided. And with a blood-curdling howl, he began to chant – a sadistic, ancient language tearing past his lips, echoing savagely over all other noises in the city. He gave in to the sensation of the frenzy and let it consume him.
Bane’s aura unleashed itself in full power, bathing everyone within thirty meters in the icy chill of invisible terror. The red flames bleeding from his eyes turned icy blue and they spread across his un-armored shoulders and back like wildfire. Ironcutter seemed to come to life, its jagged black steel unveiling malicious blue runes that hurt the eye to look at. The sensations of blasphemous power flowed through his veins like molten silver.
With a mad half-laugh, half-roar, Bane reared and trampled a path of horror, leaving a trail of red ruin among friend and foe. All who came before him died under hoof or by blade as he charged through them towards the closest dragon; his eyes filled with the flames of hatred and need. The need for blood in the vastest of quantities from the most powerful of creatures.
Yes, this dragon would do just fine for his sudden hunger.
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Post by thecampheretic on Jan 11, 2006 12:21:20 GMT -5
Lelron continued his passage across the burning city. He floated over the carnage, a twenty-foot column of insubstantial darkness. Around him beasts screamed and men stumbled, except the more powerful of the Legio. They fought all the harder. He had seen the leader fall and, though it had been an impressive last stand, it seemed a waste. He continued onward, not yet, said his second self, not yet.
“Indeed,” he answered under his breath. A tall tower rose from the eastern wall. He made his way towards it and, like a crawling mist seeped inside. Though it he rose like a smog, burning the lungs of those inside, he cared not who.
As he billowed from the top his form condensed and concentrated until he was again man sized and able to stand and perform his magic. He cast his gaze over the ruins, battle still raged north of the river and where the occasional pocket of defenders endured. The keep also held firm.
Then he heard commotion behind, four dragons were on the plain before the walls, a mighty centaur riding towards them. He rose a brow, this was unusual. Then as one the dragons reared to throw bolts down on the soldiers of the legio. There was a moment of carnage and confusion but as the dust was blown aside the mighty centaur rode on and attacked the first dragon.
Two of the others took to the wing and swept into the stained sky. His chance to show himself. The dragons threw down another pair of bolts. They exploded harmlessly in midair at a wave of Lelron’s hand. The dragons turned towards him and circled.
Again their coordination impressed him as two crackling shocks exploded into the towers sides throwing corpses, mortar and masonry into the scream-filled air. But impossibly the tower stood. Lelron’s laugh carried implausibly over the turmoil of the battlefield, it was good to feel the thrill of war once more. Within him his demonic side hungered and raged.
He started speaking ancient words, heard not in the lands of man for centuries. He moved his hands and drew from his reserves of power, the stonework below him glowed red as it cracked and spitted. Then his invocation was done, there was no line of energy, no wailing, no sign: his magic was far subtler than that.
For a moment nothing happened then the larger of the two dragons started to writhe and turn in its flight. A bestial scream escaped its cavernous throat and its thunder flashed indiscriminately. It coiled into a ball started to falter.
Next blood started to seep between its scales which then fell outward as a gaping hole opened it its gut. It fell from the skies trailing blood and gore, other holes were opening around the first and it ploughed into the ground, disintegrating on the impact. Only once it was shattered outside the walls did the killers make themselves known. Thousands of them. The miniscule imps scattered from the hollowed husk in search of more food.
Lelron smiled as he snuffed out his supply of energy to them and one by one they vanished in a flash of flame and a tiny, high-pitched scream. They were the smallest demons he could summon, but en mass deadly. Only feeling slight fatigue he floated towards the ground allowing the tower to collapse beneath him.
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Post by dogaro on Jan 11, 2006 13:37:42 GMT -5
Dinari felt the surging of magic, the coordination of the powerful dangerous force. That drew him to consciousness, not the roar of battle or the vibrations of the earth, nor the feeling of life passing into the void. The pain of his punishment still controlled him, still kept him grounded, but the subtle vibrations of magic echoed through him, giving him the strength to rise from the ashes. Though flesh had begun to regrow, it was far from completion, if he hadn't been woken he would have slumbered through the process, but he walked on, back to the river. Magic would be his only defense, and against the caster of the spell, the summoner of the forces mortals couldn't know, he would be nothing. Calling to his gods he staggered toward the rippling surface of the river, and looking to the east. That was where the magic had done its damage, that would be where he was.
Dinari faltered as a great pain shot through him from the fleshless torso, and he nearly fainted from it. The gods could offer him nothing in these lands, their spirits rested far to the east, but they consoled his soul and gave him the will to endure. He stepped once more toward the waters edge and felt the soothing substance cover his exposed muscle and tendon. Then reaching out with the skill only a mage could posses he called to the powerful magician, no feeling of pain, no sign of weakness in his message. The strands of magic that ran through the air overflowed with the power it took to send the message, An image of a red dragon smaller than the blue dragons the humans had tamed, but more beautiful and more powerful. In this vision four word were said, four calm words that were truth; "We shall meet soon."
With his message complete, he slipped below the surface to depths that humans could not reach and he began his slumber, which he would not wake from until the battle above was over, or the water around him disturbed.
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Post by Larke on Jan 11, 2006 18:10:33 GMT -5
Victus watched as S’dala carried him, it was only then that he realised he was above his old friend looking down. Victus felt his lips form into a smile as a bright light filled his vision, perhaps now he would get eternal rest.
The bright light encased him, Victus wasn’t sure how but it felt like he was floating upwards. He gazed down at the retreating ground once more hoping to catch a glimpse of the Ordio Legio, to his dismay all he could see was the fires below. Fires, which rushed up to grab hold of him.
Victus could feel his ethereal spirit being fought over by two unimaginable powerful energies; it felt as though he would be torn in half by the powers. Eventually he felt himself falling back towards the ground, the bright light retreating towards the heavens. Watching with widening eyes as the ground rushed towards him Victus tried to shield his face, only to realise he had no arms to do so.
He passed through the earth into blackness seemingly without end, he was not sure how long he fell for there was no way of keeping track. All that he could do was focus on the flames below him as they dragged him deep into the ground.
With a sickening thud he landed, his arms stretched out to stop his face from smashing into the ground. Quickly standing up he examined his body for every wound had disappeared, and more so his flesh was that of a humans and no longer the dark colour of his mutated self. Touching his face with his hands Victus found even his face had been freed of its hideous abominations.
It was then that he realised his surroundings; the ground beneath him was a dark red stretching as far as he could see. However to judge the distance would be impossible as the ground constantly shifted, gouts of fire spewing forth reaching high above before showering the surrounding landscape with flames.
“Welcome brother.” A guttural voice snarled from behind him, turning he was confronted by the nine foot Demon Bear. Jakara. “Long time Victus, far to long I have remained in this limbo.”
“Not long enough I think.” Victus kept moving as the creature padded on its two hind legs, he could already tell it was trying to circle him.
“Ah perhaps we parted on the worst circumstances Victus, but maybe amends should be made?” the demon stopped moving.
“Please Jakara don’t bore me, why is it I was brought here?”
“I have made a deal with the keeper of the damned, Anguis, once I defeat you I will claim your soul forever.” Jakara stepped forwards menacingly forcing Victus to step backwards involuntarily.
“And that’s it, you have my soul in hell?”
“Oh no little man, no I will take your place in the lands of the mortal.” Jakara leapt forwards slashing at Victus with giant talons, he stepped aside easily and landed a swift punch to its back.
“Not that easily you stupid monster!” Victus retorted as the creature rounded on him, it swiped again in futile missing him by a good two feet. Another two swift punches forced it to roar in anger, Victus knew his blows did little then frustrate the Demon but what little more could he do?
Jakara’s claws slashed out again, slicing the air between the two opponents. The ground beneath Victus shuddered, a bright glow of red shone quickly. Leaping backwards he was barely in time to avoid the pillar of fire as it tore from the earth, Jakara bellowed in anger as it charged towards Victus again. A heavy claw crashed into his shoulder, tearing through his skin like paper.
Shouting in pain he kicked the beast in the chest forcing in backwards, closer to the pillar of fire. He ignored the beast as it slashed at him again, why should he care for pain now? After all he was already dead. Kicking it harder he smiled as the flames consumed Jakara, he could make out the creature as it withered in agony.
“Congratulations.” The sudden whiteness blinded Victus momentarily, the fire and hellish surroundings replaced with light of the most purest form. Victus rubbed his eyes trying to help them adjust, confronted with gardens of flowers he couldn’t even put name to them. All lined perfectly running as far as the eye could see, green grass forming path’s between them. Maidens in fine silk dresses tended each garden, all stopped to look at him momentarily before resuming their work.
Realising he was not alone Victus turned to the aged man next to him; a long beard reached halfway down his front as a tatter of grey hairs fell from his exposed scalp. Eyes filled with wisdom gazed back at him.
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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 11, 2006 18:31:18 GMT -5
Rubble exploded and dust clouded the air around Bane as bolts of lightning shredded the masonry and burned the dead and living around him to ashes. The powerful electricity failed to affect him however, his aura now so powerful and sinister that it absorbed the energy and simply backwashed it as a more intense kind of terror. Somewhere behind him, Bane’s heightened senses felt a heart stop from the sheer horror that his aura caused. He laughed at that and charged on through the clouded air; seeing his enemy through it when the dust would have blinded a lesser beast.
The nearest dragon glared at him, snarling and clawing down the very few closest enemies. It seemed the creatures had managed to clear a large chunk of battleground in only moments. Two dragons had stayed on the ground, though the other two had gone on the wing to attack a strange, eerie mage on a tower top.
Bane noticed all these things in a corner of his mind but he did not totally perceive them; the frenzy dulling down all his observances except those he needed to kill. The full frenzy always did this to him; filling him with murderous perceptions but not those for judgment or clear observation. It was worth the trade-off to his mind however, as he swerved around a boulder sized chunk of stone.
Because of his frenzy, Bane could feel every vein and heartbeat nearby and all he saw, tasted and smelled was blood, though none was in his hungry mouth just yet. He could feel people die and the rush of adrenaline that came to their killers. He could sense injured creatures and the endorphins that flooded their systems. His frenzy made him feel all these things in ways that were godlike in sensation, pressing against his mind and pushing him into mad, blood-hungry abandon. That abandon was worth the temporary insanity that came with it.
The blue fires on his shoulders and back flared almost white as he came closer to his enemy; sword raised and teeth bared in a terrible smile. Dirt and dry blood sloughed from his black armor due to the heat of the flames and his huge, draft horse body left scorch marks on the ground as he passed. His vision focused in on the dragon and a bloodthirsty thrill ran down his spine as he sensed his aura make the dragon’s powerful heart slow down in a fraction of a second.
“DIE!” Bane screamed as he reached his enemy and dodged a flailing blue claw, lunging forward with horrifying strength. His front hooves thundered against the dragon’s chest and sapphire scales shattered under the blow, forcing a choked snarl to leave the dragon’s throat as it reared away from the flaming centaur. Ironcutter swung in, barely missing its target; a thick artery that Bane could sense under the broken scales.
“You are mine, beast.” He howled, as a spiked tail flew in towards him.
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Post by madlarkin on Jan 11, 2006 18:37:02 GMT -5
Balphegor clung to his Demisaar as it veered to the left, narrowly avoiding a hail of burning arrows fired from the south wall battlements below. The battle was in full swing, and from what he could gather high above the city, it seemed to be going in their favour. It was not as if they had not suffered any losses though; that much he could make out even from this distance.
Mighty siege engines burned in heaps of wreckage outside the walls, and scores of dead Legion warriors lay scattered across the bloody ground. But regardless of this, the dark forces of the Ordio Legio had prevailed, and the gates of the mighty city of Aesir had finally fallen. He had been planning on executing a mission to the gates himself, but it seemed some other brave or foolish individual had managed to grant access to the hordes of legionnaires.
Glancing ahead, Balphegor watched as the flying warriors under Warmaster Sirius dove headlong towards the centre of the city, aiming for the packed mass of mortal soldiers making their last stand against the Legion. The blood sage admired Sirius and his warriors, and the way they recklessly disregarded their own safety in order to perfect a calculated attack directly into the heart of the enemy.
Balphegor swept lower in their wake, circling around and aiming back for the violated gates. Although he knew the Demisaar was a formidable flying beast, he was no aerial expert like that of Sirius, and longed to be with his own warriors who by now would be utterly ravenous for mortal flesh.
This change of tactics was sealed when a host of whizzing projectiles shot past his helmeted visage, causing him to shoot a glance back down at the infantrymen below with a snarl. As he banked and attempted to dodge the incoming fusillades, another barrage fired his way, reaching his position quicker than any arrow could ever achieve.
A number of the shots thudded into the thick hide of the Demisaar, provoking a screech of rage from the vast beast. Balphegor had to grip the fur of the creature and wrench it towards his intended destination as it tried desperately to turn back and engage the cowardly shooters. "There will be plenty time to spill mortal blood soon," he assured the beast as they flew towards the flaming section of the south-east wall.
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Post by Jerok on Jan 11, 2006 23:06:01 GMT -5
Largo continued to stalk up the meandering steps, killing all of the 'Royal Guard' he passed. Soon he came to the living chambers of those same phony Royalty. He stalked straight down the corridor, his weapons hidden. He moved infront of the pair of armed guards outside of the kings room. He nodded to them, and as they nodded back, his sword was out, already slashed across ones throat, and moving through the seconds. The men dropped, and Largo entered. The King looked up from his studies, then glanced back down, "Come to bring me the news of our good cities victory?" He said. Largo smiled. He took the so called king by the throat, keeping him silent he moved to the small arrow-slit window and held themans eye up to it. The quick intack of what little breath he could showed Largo that the man had not expected this. Largo's long knife was imbedded into the Kings skull, jammed through the arrow-slit, keeping him in place. He moved back out into the hall, meaning to make his way to the Keeps walls, and disable all of the seige works there. But as he exited the room, a beautiful maiden came out of a doorway at the far end of the hall. Her eyes widened at the dead centries, and Largo expected her to flee. But she began to mutter to herself, reaching to her short sword that was strapped to her side. As a stone rattled in the wall next to him, Largo realised she was muttering an incantation. He dived upon the maid, keeping her sword pinned in its sheath and his throat around her neck. He brought his sword across her throat, "Who are you, girl, and where did you learn your Magics?" She swallowed slightly, showing that, although she did not show it, she was in reat fear, "I am the daughter of..." she looked to the dead guards and the slightly open doorway,"...the seemingly late King Alrik. I learned my Magics from books kept in the farthest depths of this keep." He nodded thoughtfully, and then she found herself tied with her hands at the small of her back, and Largo begining to tie a gag around her mouth, "Wait!" she hissed, "I do not wish to combat your forces, but join them, so that I may become more powerful and knowledgable in the black arts!" Largo faultered, then coninued tying the knot, keeping the gag in place. When he was done he hauled her up onto her feet and began to move her forward quickly, "I will decide what to do with you back at the camp." he stated simply. The moved down through the Keep, and soon came up above Gnarloc, who was patiently waiting. He gave a faint whistle and the Dwarf Dragon looked up. He suddenly pushed the young woman over the edge, and she was caught by Gnarloc. He to jumped over, landing in the saddle about the great beast. He fixed the women so that she rode infront of him, his arms around her waist keeping her in place. "Back to camp, Gnarloc." He stated simply, and the beast moved off, skirting the battles by a distance, slipping out of the City back towards the Largo's Seige Company.
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