Crash, roars, screams around filled the air as much as the sweat beneath his armor and the smell of blood from his own wounds and those of the men around him did his nostrils. The axe sunk deeply into the man who toppled over him, bringing Brytan down to the ground as he fell, making it hard for him to move.
The sounds of combat were clear to him. He watched the massive shapes of the orcs march passed unhalted. Or he watched their feet, for much of the rest of them was obscured by the body on top of him. He tried to inch his way from under the body, out of sight of the orcs. They thought him dead or otherwise they would have dealt a finishing blow to his prone body and Brytan intended to use that to his advantage. As he moved slowly but steadily, as much as possible, he watched the demoness advance towards the captain of their legion. Who himself stood there like a sack of grain on the docks of Roque, watching the tide roll in. "Some kind of spell, he's in a trance."
The men around him faltered in the onslaught of the orcs and undead, heavy infantry behind them, unrelentingly moving forward. "Have to move, have to get out of here." Fear gripped him, boosted his will to survive. He sought leverage to move the body off of him, hoping none would notice too quickly, adrenalin being his companion. The demoness approached, focussed on the captain entirely it seemed. Their enemy in reach, so close, so powerfull, so...
"No, focus, focus damnit."
Death, blood. This war would be won only if the demoness was stopped. He had but flickers to execute the rash and perhaps foolish action he was about to take, so he went for it. The flicker he got free of the body he sought a blade, any light blade, his own daggers if he still held them or another, didn't matter. He darted around, speeding around out of eyesight of the demoness. "The back, the back is vulnerable." To the Nether with their powers, to the dark with her magic. Cold steel will teach the Nether spawn. He waited for the one opening he needed, one moment without anything between him and the demoness to strike, to sink his blade into her neck, severing the spinal cord. Failure was not an option.
"Marissa, forgive me." He lept in silence, no need for bolsterous shouts or cries this time. He was about to die, but if her magic would falter long enough for someone else to strike... "I'll see you in the Aether."
Battle of Taloh Samheen 27th (Open)
-
Michel Carbonneau
- Commander of the Kings Court Army
- Posts: 216
- Joined: Sun Sep 11, 2005 9:43 pm
Michel had caught her attention. He had seen the magical bond between the demon and the king in the forest. It was the reason why he hadn't looked into her eyes then and it was the exact same reason why he had sought her eyes now. This demon would have to be killed with more than just cold steel. And this was Michel's part of the play. As soon as the music started to fill his ears, he prayed to Dominicus. "Father, I know you are with us, here, now, let us send this evil back to the nether together, as One"
It was hard to resist her, she lured him using all of his senses, it would be so easy..so easy to let go...his sword moved slowly to the ground, so easy to just let it fall down..."N..No...have to resist..Father.." As he heard and felt and saw the woman all around him, he tried to get a stronger grip on his sword. He had to resist, he had to hang in there. In the forest he had made a promise, his sword would stick through her neck and if he could find the strength, if he could find one tiny weakness in her demon magic, that was exactly where he would stick his sword, straight through her neck.
It was hard to resist her, she lured him using all of his senses, it would be so easy..so easy to let go...his sword moved slowly to the ground, so easy to just let it fall down..."N..No...have to resist..Father.." As he heard and felt and saw the woman all around him, he tried to get a stronger grip on his sword. He had to resist, he had to hang in there. In the forest he had made a promise, his sword would stick through her neck and if he could find the strength, if he could find one tiny weakness in her demon magic, that was exactly where he would stick his sword, straight through her neck.
Here we are. Born to be kings. We're the princes of the universe. We've come to be the rulers of you all.
Avatar by permission of Amok. [url]http://amok-koma.ru/[/url] ~ eyepatch made by Ulder, with permission of Amok.
Avatar by permission of Amok. [url]http://amok-koma.ru/[/url] ~ eyepatch made by Ulder, with permission of Amok.
They were simply too far off, rushing to the aid of their comrades, but obviously too far away to get there in time. The Second Company was being cut down, one man at a time, the orcs doing the deed with terrifying ease. Possessed of inhuman strength, their blows were almost impossible to block, and when they landed men fell dead. Wading through the remaining light infantry, they showed no mercy, but surprisingly the men of Pax Honestus did not break.
No man turned and ran, as they fought and died with grim determination. Only one orc lay dead and they were down to ten men and a single woman, slashing and dodging at the advancing foes. Laendral fought like possessed, but even her staff was broken, forcing her to dodge the blows of her seemingly immortal foe. What remained of her spear was still wedged in the orcs chest, along with two broken swords of now dead soldiers and still the beast kept coming on. One of its eyes did not shine anymore, as she did manage to push the end of her staff through the slit of its helmet before it was broke, seemingly ruining its eye.
Sergeant Darmuss was one of those few that still lived, though his life was slowly being choked out of him, by the crushing grip of the orcs mailed hand. Just moments before he managed to lop of the beasts hand, disarming it finally and moving in for the kill. But as his sword punched through its throat, coming through the other side, the orcs other hand gripped his throat and started squeezing the life out of him.
A woman's scream tore through the air, overcoming the sounds of battle easily. The orcs stopped for just a flicker, some of them turning back to see where it came from. It was then that the heavy infantry crashed into them, the clang of steel versus steel overcoming everything else. Spears pierced chest and limb, and pushed the orcs back, but still they moved. It was Sergeant Cleyden that managed to score a first kill of the battle as his axe slammed into the helmet of the orc holding Darmuss' limp body by the throat. It went through the steel, skull and beyond, not stopping till the handle hit the chest plate, the blade wedged deep into the orcs chest. To its knees the beast fell, dropping his victim and toppling forward as the battle picked up in intensity once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Slowly she approached, fully focused upon Michel's eyes, her lips parting slightly as she licked them teasingly. Her mace still in hand, Blayvanna came within inches of his face, leaning forward, her eyes glued to his. "Good bye, my dear." His sword still was as heavy as stone, his fingers gripping the handle, unable to let go. The music in his ears was almost deafening now, as the demoness leaned forward still, her lips moving towards him. The mace slowly rose, as she finally touched her lips to Captain's, her skin almost uncomfortably warm.
Brytan's daggers were still by his side, as not a soul moved behind the wall of orcish bodies. The demoness did not seem to notice him, fully focused as she was on the Captain, the man's limbs trembling with an effort to move. As he crept behind her, and came within reach, her mace rose and she pulled her hand back, before she kissed her prey. It was quite easy to strike her, as she was completely unaware of him behind her back. His strike was not quite as lethal as he hoped, as it bounced of her spine and sunk deep into her tender neck.
Blood gushed in a spray, as Blayvanna spun around, bringing her mace around to strike the impudent fly that dared strike her. Her blood was hot and smelled faintly of iron and sulphur, its taste quite sour and salty upon Brytan's lips as it splashed over his face. He was too close for her to strike properly, as the handle of her mace connected with Brytan's chest, sending him tumbling backwards once more, a sharp pain exploding in his side, where one of the spikes pierced his skin and sunk deep. Flat on his back, she advanced forward to finish him off when......
Michel's prayer was not to be answered, as Blayvanna's searing hot lips touched his. The music grew eerie, speaking of death and ruin to his ears. Then she turned, and he was free to move once more. A spray of her hot blood splashed over his body, as she sent one of his soldiers tumbling back, his face covered in blood. The sword listened to his command and came up and about with amazing speed, easily striking her neck and sinking deep. It stopped once it struck her spine, remaining wedged there, head nearly severed from her body. A scream tore from her beautiful throat, dimming all other sounds and covering them in a loud ringing. Blayvanna fell upon her knees, clutching her wound, a look of desperation on her face, though the gushing blood slowly flowed with less and less intensity as if it was already healing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What has begun?" John turned, pulling Borne's head roughly up and forcing the man to look upon his eyes.
"The rift. It is opening. It is too late now. She has won." Then the scream tore through the silence, and the rift dimmed, reducing and almost disappearing. "Quick. Get me down. NOW!" His voice grew as the tormented Necromancer tried to stand up.
John, looked back, and motioned for Sir Raymond to come closer. Two swift strikes and Borne's arms were free. Two more and his legs were free to move.
"What happened here?" John's voice was frantic, he saw the Aetheric energies pulsing through the room once more, gathering near the ceiling as the souls of the dead drifted drawn together by Blayvanna's magick.
"She is using the souls to open the rift to Nether. I can close it. I think." The smile that broke Borne's face was grim. "Help me up and pray that I have enough in me left to end this." He stumbled forward, John standing by his side, offering his arm for support.
No man turned and ran, as they fought and died with grim determination. Only one orc lay dead and they were down to ten men and a single woman, slashing and dodging at the advancing foes. Laendral fought like possessed, but even her staff was broken, forcing her to dodge the blows of her seemingly immortal foe. What remained of her spear was still wedged in the orcs chest, along with two broken swords of now dead soldiers and still the beast kept coming on. One of its eyes did not shine anymore, as she did manage to push the end of her staff through the slit of its helmet before it was broke, seemingly ruining its eye.
Sergeant Darmuss was one of those few that still lived, though his life was slowly being choked out of him, by the crushing grip of the orcs mailed hand. Just moments before he managed to lop of the beasts hand, disarming it finally and moving in for the kill. But as his sword punched through its throat, coming through the other side, the orcs other hand gripped his throat and started squeezing the life out of him.
A woman's scream tore through the air, overcoming the sounds of battle easily. The orcs stopped for just a flicker, some of them turning back to see where it came from. It was then that the heavy infantry crashed into them, the clang of steel versus steel overcoming everything else. Spears pierced chest and limb, and pushed the orcs back, but still they moved. It was Sergeant Cleyden that managed to score a first kill of the battle as his axe slammed into the helmet of the orc holding Darmuss' limp body by the throat. It went through the steel, skull and beyond, not stopping till the handle hit the chest plate, the blade wedged deep into the orcs chest. To its knees the beast fell, dropping his victim and toppling forward as the battle picked up in intensity once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Slowly she approached, fully focused upon Michel's eyes, her lips parting slightly as she licked them teasingly. Her mace still in hand, Blayvanna came within inches of his face, leaning forward, her eyes glued to his. "Good bye, my dear." His sword still was as heavy as stone, his fingers gripping the handle, unable to let go. The music in his ears was almost deafening now, as the demoness leaned forward still, her lips moving towards him. The mace slowly rose, as she finally touched her lips to Captain's, her skin almost uncomfortably warm.
Brytan's daggers were still by his side, as not a soul moved behind the wall of orcish bodies. The demoness did not seem to notice him, fully focused as she was on the Captain, the man's limbs trembling with an effort to move. As he crept behind her, and came within reach, her mace rose and she pulled her hand back, before she kissed her prey. It was quite easy to strike her, as she was completely unaware of him behind her back. His strike was not quite as lethal as he hoped, as it bounced of her spine and sunk deep into her tender neck.
Blood gushed in a spray, as Blayvanna spun around, bringing her mace around to strike the impudent fly that dared strike her. Her blood was hot and smelled faintly of iron and sulphur, its taste quite sour and salty upon Brytan's lips as it splashed over his face. He was too close for her to strike properly, as the handle of her mace connected with Brytan's chest, sending him tumbling backwards once more, a sharp pain exploding in his side, where one of the spikes pierced his skin and sunk deep. Flat on his back, she advanced forward to finish him off when......
Michel's prayer was not to be answered, as Blayvanna's searing hot lips touched his. The music grew eerie, speaking of death and ruin to his ears. Then she turned, and he was free to move once more. A spray of her hot blood splashed over his body, as she sent one of his soldiers tumbling back, his face covered in blood. The sword listened to his command and came up and about with amazing speed, easily striking her neck and sinking deep. It stopped once it struck her spine, remaining wedged there, head nearly severed from her body. A scream tore from her beautiful throat, dimming all other sounds and covering them in a loud ringing. Blayvanna fell upon her knees, clutching her wound, a look of desperation on her face, though the gushing blood slowly flowed with less and less intensity as if it was already healing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What has begun?" John turned, pulling Borne's head roughly up and forcing the man to look upon his eyes.
"The rift. It is opening. It is too late now. She has won." Then the scream tore through the silence, and the rift dimmed, reducing and almost disappearing. "Quick. Get me down. NOW!" His voice grew as the tormented Necromancer tried to stand up.
John, looked back, and motioned for Sir Raymond to come closer. Two swift strikes and Borne's arms were free. Two more and his legs were free to move.
"What happened here?" John's voice was frantic, he saw the Aetheric energies pulsing through the room once more, gathering near the ceiling as the souls of the dead drifted drawn together by Blayvanna's magick.
"She is using the souls to open the rift to Nether. I can close it. I think." The smile that broke Borne's face was grim. "Help me up and pray that I have enough in me left to end this." He stumbled forward, John standing by his side, offering his arm for support.
Last edited by Grey Wolf on Sun Aug 27, 2006 2:45 pm, edited 2 times in total.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
-
Michel Carbonneau
- Commander of the Kings Court Army
- Posts: 216
- Joined: Sun Sep 11, 2005 9:43 pm
Still trying to resist the demon's magic with all of his strength, it seemed to last ages before she finally reached him. Even when he could feel his sword being too heavy to lift, even when the music made all else silent, he still had hope. Until her lips touched his. Everything felt lost. The image of his family burning, the while city of Kings Court burning, entered his mind again. For the first time in his life he could not feel the presence of Dominicus with him, he felt all alone in the dark as the image of his family burning, the whole city of Kings Court burning, entered his mind once more.
Just as he was about to get ready to release his spirit into the Aether, he felt an explosion of light rush through his body. As his vision became clear again he saw the demon give a strong blow to Brytan's chest and he felt her blood splash on his body. Immediately he felt the strength returning to his hand and he struck her neck, bringing the demon to her knees.
Although Brytan's attack and Michel's strike had done quite some damage, her wound seemed to be healing in a rapid pace. They had to finish her, now.
Michel started to rotate his sword, wedging the blade deeper into the wound, ripping apart her neck and spine as much as he could. He put his left foot on her back and tried to pull the sword free. Once free he would quickly ready the sword for the final blow. "Goodbye indeed." He swung his sword around and aimed straight for her neck, wanting to decapitate her before she could heal the wounds.
Just as he was about to get ready to release his spirit into the Aether, he felt an explosion of light rush through his body. As his vision became clear again he saw the demon give a strong blow to Brytan's chest and he felt her blood splash on his body. Immediately he felt the strength returning to his hand and he struck her neck, bringing the demon to her knees.
Although Brytan's attack and Michel's strike had done quite some damage, her wound seemed to be healing in a rapid pace. They had to finish her, now.
Michel started to rotate his sword, wedging the blade deeper into the wound, ripping apart her neck and spine as much as he could. He put his left foot on her back and tried to pull the sword free. Once free he would quickly ready the sword for the final blow. "Goodbye indeed." He swung his sword around and aimed straight for her neck, wanting to decapitate her before she could heal the wounds.
Here we are. Born to be kings. We're the princes of the universe. We've come to be the rulers of you all.
Avatar by permission of Amok. [url]http://amok-koma.ru/[/url] ~ eyepatch made by Ulder, with permission of Amok.
Avatar by permission of Amok. [url]http://amok-koma.ru/[/url] ~ eyepatch made by Ulder, with permission of Amok.
-
Brytan
- Moderator & Coordinator Triangle Islands
- Posts: 1156
- Joined: Fri Oct 14, 2005 6:53 pm
- Location: Pax
- Contact:
Brytan was surprised he got as far as he did. Actually managing to sink his blade into the body of the demoness. What happened afterwards was somewhat less of a surprise as he felt the sharp pain of steel piercing flesh as he was tossed aside like a rag doll. He let go of one of his blades, his left hand going to the wound in a natural reflex. He felt the warm blood ooze over his fingers, this was no flesh wound.
He pressed down on the wound, hoping he could stunt the bleeding at least somewhat, edging backward as he was lieing on his back, watching Blayvanna approach him now, eyes set to kill.
Then what he had hoped happened. the Captain woke up from his trance and struck the demoness aswell, sending a horrific scream into the air.
"Must...get up...have to...strike..." He didn't know what kept him going. Loss of blood was already making him light headed, or maybe it was the fact he had hit the ground hard when he fell. Thoughts of his family raced before his mind's eye, aswell as the teachings and the Eye of Dominicus with which he had been raised. "Evil...must...fall...Must...not...give in..." With all the strength he could muster he attempted to get up.
"Seems like the neck is taken..." He couldn't help but grin at his own thoughts, before coughing up some blood. Be it his or the demon's he couldn't tell. The taste of it in his mouth was bitter.
And then he went for the heart.
He pressed down on the wound, hoping he could stunt the bleeding at least somewhat, edging backward as he was lieing on his back, watching Blayvanna approach him now, eyes set to kill.
Then what he had hoped happened. the Captain woke up from his trance and struck the demoness aswell, sending a horrific scream into the air.
"Must...get up...have to...strike..." He didn't know what kept him going. Loss of blood was already making him light headed, or maybe it was the fact he had hit the ground hard when he fell. Thoughts of his family raced before his mind's eye, aswell as the teachings and the Eye of Dominicus with which he had been raised. "Evil...must...fall...Must...not...give in..." With all the strength he could muster he attempted to get up.
"Seems like the neck is taken..." He couldn't help but grin at his own thoughts, before coughing up some blood. Be it his or the demon's he couldn't tell. The taste of it in his mouth was bitter.
And then he went for the heart.
[size=84][i]I'm sorry, but I don't know who you're talking about. You must be confusing me with that other guy...[/i][/size]
[size=67]Avatar drawn and edited by me, Darkness concept (c) Topcow comics
Age=28 - SCZ=E - Attendance=daily[/size]
[size=67]Avatar drawn and edited by me, Darkness concept (c) Topcow comics
Age=28 - SCZ=E - Attendance=daily[/size]
Blayvanna was down on all fours by the time Michel reached her. A sickening crunch accompanied his efforts, as the bones in the mortal body demoness inhabited broke under his strength. Yet, she still lived, shrieking terribly, her arms flailing about impotently, in vain effort to stop the pain. It was his foot that allowed him to pull the sword free, sending the demoness down once more. Blood gushed freely from the terrible wound he dealt.
His sword switched about once more, going for her neck, ready to end her dark existence. But, she was already healing, and recovered all too soon, her right hand moving in an arc and connecting with the Captain's shin. It was as if a hammer struck him dead on, the bone shattering almost without effort, his legs flying from under him. The sword still struck, albeit a bit too high, sending her crown flying to the side, as she once more started to rise, murderous intent in her eyes.
Brytan was once more ignored, as Blayvanna was fully intent on killing his Captain, ignoring the wounded soldier completely. It was quite easy to approach her, as she turned her back to him once more, fists clenched. The Captain was on the ground, his right leg bent at an impossible angle. The blood seeped from Brytan's wound, though the blood he tasted was not his own. His aim was true, but hardly successful, the dagger clattering to the side against the chain armor the woman wore. She did not even turn, taking a few steps more toward Michel raising both fists high and preparing to end his existence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Necromancer stood swaying, as his voice echoed through the vast room. The vortex of swirling souls above him once more started expanding into a portal, growing larger with each passing flicker, more and more souls being dragged into its folds. His skin grew paler, grayish cast covering his features, as he visibly aged before the others, but all he managed was to slow the advance of the rift. Too many died in such a short time for him to stem the tide.
Collapsing on the floor, he looked up and shook his head. "I can't. I am not strong enough."
Brother John was at his side. "You have to. Come, I'll help if I can." Sir Raymond stepped forth as well. "Me too."
Borne looked at the and nodded. "Okay. Help me up and form a circle. Open your minds and let me tap your strength. But know that this might very well kill us all and not work in the end."
A pair of nods was all he got as the Paladin of the One, linked hands with the Inquisitor and a Necromancer. It was a rather unlikely group, but they all closed their eyes, as Borne started chanting again, with John joining him in a silent prayer. The rift kept growing still, but slowed to a crawl and eventually started shrinking, yet the trio was slowly being drained of their life's essence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The King still stood though barely, his left arm hanging limply on his side. His sword was covered in blood, as he dragged it along the ground too tired to lift it before it was truly necessary. Only old Sir Greyson still stood, Marco's body still twitching to the side, his thin sword stuck deeply within the Beast's right eye. The younger Greyson, sat against the tree nearby, his sword hand nearly ripped off as he bled profusely. It was his blow that severed the Beast's right hand, and got stuck in its leg.
Finally the monstrosity before them was nearing it's own death after having killed, half a dozen Paladins and almost a score of soldiers. Down on it's remaining three limbs, it panted heavily, turning its head this way and that in an attempt to keep both its opponents in sight. Its depth perception was ruined thank to the brave Mouthie Paladin and his sacrifice. With a shriek both men leapt forward, the King ignoring the pain in his wounded arm as he brought his sword toward the Beast's neck. Sir Greyson did the same, aiming to end its existence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Blayvanna screamed, several orcs tried to turn and that was their doom. The other fought on, but even they could not last indefinitely. Their wounds healed fast, but they could be killed. Almost a dozen orcs lay dead now, even though three times as many Legionnaires joined them in death. Sergeant Cleyden was covered in thin sheen of sweat his axe spelling doom for any orc he struck, his own hand killing three of the lumbering monstrosities. Fighting to avenge the death of his friend, he attacked with little concern for his own safety.
His sword switched about once more, going for her neck, ready to end her dark existence. But, she was already healing, and recovered all too soon, her right hand moving in an arc and connecting with the Captain's shin. It was as if a hammer struck him dead on, the bone shattering almost without effort, his legs flying from under him. The sword still struck, albeit a bit too high, sending her crown flying to the side, as she once more started to rise, murderous intent in her eyes.
Brytan was once more ignored, as Blayvanna was fully intent on killing his Captain, ignoring the wounded soldier completely. It was quite easy to approach her, as she turned her back to him once more, fists clenched. The Captain was on the ground, his right leg bent at an impossible angle. The blood seeped from Brytan's wound, though the blood he tasted was not his own. His aim was true, but hardly successful, the dagger clattering to the side against the chain armor the woman wore. She did not even turn, taking a few steps more toward Michel raising both fists high and preparing to end his existence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Necromancer stood swaying, as his voice echoed through the vast room. The vortex of swirling souls above him once more started expanding into a portal, growing larger with each passing flicker, more and more souls being dragged into its folds. His skin grew paler, grayish cast covering his features, as he visibly aged before the others, but all he managed was to slow the advance of the rift. Too many died in such a short time for him to stem the tide.
Collapsing on the floor, he looked up and shook his head. "I can't. I am not strong enough."
Brother John was at his side. "You have to. Come, I'll help if I can." Sir Raymond stepped forth as well. "Me too."
Borne looked at the and nodded. "Okay. Help me up and form a circle. Open your minds and let me tap your strength. But know that this might very well kill us all and not work in the end."
A pair of nods was all he got as the Paladin of the One, linked hands with the Inquisitor and a Necromancer. It was a rather unlikely group, but they all closed their eyes, as Borne started chanting again, with John joining him in a silent prayer. The rift kept growing still, but slowed to a crawl and eventually started shrinking, yet the trio was slowly being drained of their life's essence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The King still stood though barely, his left arm hanging limply on his side. His sword was covered in blood, as he dragged it along the ground too tired to lift it before it was truly necessary. Only old Sir Greyson still stood, Marco's body still twitching to the side, his thin sword stuck deeply within the Beast's right eye. The younger Greyson, sat against the tree nearby, his sword hand nearly ripped off as he bled profusely. It was his blow that severed the Beast's right hand, and got stuck in its leg.
Finally the monstrosity before them was nearing it's own death after having killed, half a dozen Paladins and almost a score of soldiers. Down on it's remaining three limbs, it panted heavily, turning its head this way and that in an attempt to keep both its opponents in sight. Its depth perception was ruined thank to the brave Mouthie Paladin and his sacrifice. With a shriek both men leapt forward, the King ignoring the pain in his wounded arm as he brought his sword toward the Beast's neck. Sir Greyson did the same, aiming to end its existence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Blayvanna screamed, several orcs tried to turn and that was their doom. The other fought on, but even they could not last indefinitely. Their wounds healed fast, but they could be killed. Almost a dozen orcs lay dead now, even though three times as many Legionnaires joined them in death. Sergeant Cleyden was covered in thin sheen of sweat his axe spelling doom for any orc he struck, his own hand killing three of the lumbering monstrosities. Fighting to avenge the death of his friend, he attacked with little concern for his own safety.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
-
Brytan
- Moderator & Coordinator Triangle Islands
- Posts: 1156
- Joined: Fri Oct 14, 2005 6:53 pm
- Location: Pax
- Contact:
The blade deflected off of the steel. Pain shot through his body as Brytan's blow didn't seem to even draw any attention, him still holding down on his wound. It took him a few flickers to adjust, the demoness still advancing on the captain now.
"Can't get a clear shot."
His vision blurred as pain was about to overwhelm him. With one final effort he threw himself forward at the demoness, forcing his body weight behind his throw to meet with the knee joints in the back of her legs. He couldn't muster the strength nor concentration to focus another bladed assault, so he used the only weapon he had left; leverage. With any luck she would topple forward to the ground, making her prone to attack.
"Can't get a clear shot."
His vision blurred as pain was about to overwhelm him. With one final effort he threw himself forward at the demoness, forcing his body weight behind his throw to meet with the knee joints in the back of her legs. He couldn't muster the strength nor concentration to focus another bladed assault, so he used the only weapon he had left; leverage. With any luck she would topple forward to the ground, making her prone to attack.
[size=84][i]I'm sorry, but I don't know who you're talking about. You must be confusing me with that other guy...[/i][/size]
[size=67]Avatar drawn and edited by me, Darkness concept (c) Topcow comics
Age=28 - SCZ=E - Attendance=daily[/size]
[size=67]Avatar drawn and edited by me, Darkness concept (c) Topcow comics
Age=28 - SCZ=E - Attendance=daily[/size]
-
Michel Carbonneau
- Commander of the Kings Court Army
- Posts: 216
- Joined: Sun Sep 11, 2005 9:43 pm
With full determination Michel acted out his plan, bringing the demoness to her knees. Judgement day had come for her. All would be over soon. She was screaming, despair easily visible on her face. Without any hesitation the captain removed the sword from her body, only to make the final blow. But the sword would never reach her neck. Within flickers a heavy burst of pain shot through his body as the bone in his leg shattered, slamming his body to the ground. instantly the roles were turned around, the demoness now standing over him, heaving her arms up in the air, going for the final blow.
He saw Brytan's attempt to strike her in her heart and he had a flicker of hope, hope that was swept away again as he saw Brytan's attempt fail.
This was it..there was no more time to think, no more time for prayers, or for hope.. He had only one thing left, one thing that could never be taken away from him, not even by an army of these demons. His faith. His faith in the light, in the good of this world, his faith in the One.
Nothing mattered anymore, not the pain, not his life, nothing. This evil had to be defeated, even if she would crush his head like a walnut. Ignoring the pain of his broken leg, Michel grabbed his sword and used all of his strength, all of his faith to lift himself up one more time and aimed to strike the sword straight through her neck. "FOR THE LIIIGHT!"
He saw Brytan's attempt to strike her in her heart and he had a flicker of hope, hope that was swept away again as he saw Brytan's attempt fail.
This was it..there was no more time to think, no more time for prayers, or for hope.. He had only one thing left, one thing that could never be taken away from him, not even by an army of these demons. His faith. His faith in the light, in the good of this world, his faith in the One.
Nothing mattered anymore, not the pain, not his life, nothing. This evil had to be defeated, even if she would crush his head like a walnut. Ignoring the pain of his broken leg, Michel grabbed his sword and used all of his strength, all of his faith to lift himself up one more time and aimed to strike the sword straight through her neck. "FOR THE LIIIGHT!"
Here we are. Born to be kings. We're the princes of the universe. We've come to be the rulers of you all.
Avatar by permission of Amok. [url]http://amok-koma.ru/[/url] ~ eyepatch made by Ulder, with permission of Amok.
Avatar by permission of Amok. [url]http://amok-koma.ru/[/url] ~ eyepatch made by Ulder, with permission of Amok.
The trio in the throne room visible aged before the eyes of the remaining two paladins. Borne knew they would not succeed, as their life was being drained too fast, for the rift to close completely. The souls still poured into the rift, making it expand in short bursts as they slowly struggled to close it shut. Still chanting his hand went to John's belt, and with a questioning glance the Necromancer pulled the Inquisitor's dagger, the hilt bearing the eye of the one upon it.
A sad smile split the man's lips, as they moved on and on, and then the chanting shifted. It became calmer, as the rift started slowly expanding once more. The words were in adhiel, but the last two sentences were comprehensible by all. "There is no sacrifice more powerful than blood sacrifice. And of those none greater than self sacrifice." With those words he raised the dagger high above his head and.... Plunged it into his own heart. He was dead within the flicker, the rift decreasing in size in an instant.
It still remained open, expanding once more, as the three men stared in desperation. Sir Raymond, stared at Borne's corpse instead, a soft hiss filling the silent hall as his sword came free. A single whispered sentence was his farewell. "For the light." Then he turned his blade and plunged himself upon it, the tip piercing his throat and emerging at the back of his neck, severing the spine cleanly. His death was painless, and he went to it without regrets, judging by the calm expression on his face. It was not in vain however, as the rift slammed shut, as a big ball of green light exploded into thousands of tiny motes of light, scattering the souls all across the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their aims were true as both King Balthasar and Sir Greyson struck the Beast's neck, their swords nearly severing its head. Nearly, but not quite. Their swords were wrenched free as the monstrosity thrashed around, the light slowly dimming in its one remaining eye. It was then that the shower of green sparks washed over them, and the beast just fell down upon the ground, one last jerk of its mighty leg signaling its death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blayvanna paid Brytan no heed, and thus his attack was strangely successful. She tumbled forward, something stopping her fall, as his body leaned against her back fully. Only then did she buckle, another scream ripping from her throat.
With a broken leg and prone, it was hard for Michel to aim properly. At the last minute the demoness stumbled forward, his sword striking her chest instead. The armor resisted for but a fraction of a flicker, and then the sword pierced through the fine steel mesh covering her torso. She did not stop, another scream coming closer to the Captain's ears, as the sword went straight through her chest, going cleanly out her back, finding a weakened link upon her back armor....
....and right into []Brytan's[/b] shoulder. As Blayvanna impaled herself upon Michel's sword, so did Brytan as well. Toppling over the Captain, his body was pinned to Blayvanna's their bloods mixing as sharp pain threatened to overcome the young soldier's senses. His consciousness still held, as the women under him struggled still, sending sharp lances of pain through his body as sword moved within his wound.
Michel found himself pressed by both Blayvanna and the soldier who fought the demoness alongside him, the sword sinking into their bodies till the hilt struck the woman's sternum. She still moved however, her fingers creeping along his face, till they reached his eyes. Like a claw it dug into it, the pain causing him to black out as she forced his left eye out of its socket. As the light slowly faded away, green spark covered the sky above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elsewhere the battle died out almost too sudden. As the green motes washed over the battlefield, the dead simply collapsed. Most other creatures were already dead, only the demonically possessed ones still fighting on. The Nether rift was closed and even they succumbed to wounds that should have killed them ages ago. Even the large orcs fighting Pax Honestus Legionnaires succumbed, leaving perhaps three dozen men still standing.
Laendral stood, panting, hand upon her knees surveying the carnage they have wrought. Dead and dying men lay everywhere, mixed with orcs, and various other creatures. It was then that she saw Blayvanna, her eyes taking a flicker to register Brytan on top of her. Rushing to his side she knelt next to him, a hand gently caressing the young man's cheek. One tear rolled down her eyes, as she wiped the blood from his face and leaned forward. "We have won, Brytan." Then her lips touched his, in a soft kiss, as his consciousness finally gave way.
~Fin~
I believe we are done here gentlemen. I shall engage in a short PM discussion with each of you to see how to proceed.
A sad smile split the man's lips, as they moved on and on, and then the chanting shifted. It became calmer, as the rift started slowly expanding once more. The words were in adhiel, but the last two sentences were comprehensible by all. "There is no sacrifice more powerful than blood sacrifice. And of those none greater than self sacrifice." With those words he raised the dagger high above his head and.... Plunged it into his own heart. He was dead within the flicker, the rift decreasing in size in an instant.
It still remained open, expanding once more, as the three men stared in desperation. Sir Raymond, stared at Borne's corpse instead, a soft hiss filling the silent hall as his sword came free. A single whispered sentence was his farewell. "For the light." Then he turned his blade and plunged himself upon it, the tip piercing his throat and emerging at the back of his neck, severing the spine cleanly. His death was painless, and he went to it without regrets, judging by the calm expression on his face. It was not in vain however, as the rift slammed shut, as a big ball of green light exploded into thousands of tiny motes of light, scattering the souls all across the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their aims were true as both King Balthasar and Sir Greyson struck the Beast's neck, their swords nearly severing its head. Nearly, but not quite. Their swords were wrenched free as the monstrosity thrashed around, the light slowly dimming in its one remaining eye. It was then that the shower of green sparks washed over them, and the beast just fell down upon the ground, one last jerk of its mighty leg signaling its death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blayvanna paid Brytan no heed, and thus his attack was strangely successful. She tumbled forward, something stopping her fall, as his body leaned against her back fully. Only then did she buckle, another scream ripping from her throat.
With a broken leg and prone, it was hard for Michel to aim properly. At the last minute the demoness stumbled forward, his sword striking her chest instead. The armor resisted for but a fraction of a flicker, and then the sword pierced through the fine steel mesh covering her torso. She did not stop, another scream coming closer to the Captain's ears, as the sword went straight through her chest, going cleanly out her back, finding a weakened link upon her back armor....
....and right into []Brytan's[/b] shoulder. As Blayvanna impaled herself upon Michel's sword, so did Brytan as well. Toppling over the Captain, his body was pinned to Blayvanna's their bloods mixing as sharp pain threatened to overcome the young soldier's senses. His consciousness still held, as the women under him struggled still, sending sharp lances of pain through his body as sword moved within his wound.
Michel found himself pressed by both Blayvanna and the soldier who fought the demoness alongside him, the sword sinking into their bodies till the hilt struck the woman's sternum. She still moved however, her fingers creeping along his face, till they reached his eyes. Like a claw it dug into it, the pain causing him to black out as she forced his left eye out of its socket. As the light slowly faded away, green spark covered the sky above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elsewhere the battle died out almost too sudden. As the green motes washed over the battlefield, the dead simply collapsed. Most other creatures were already dead, only the demonically possessed ones still fighting on. The Nether rift was closed and even they succumbed to wounds that should have killed them ages ago. Even the large orcs fighting Pax Honestus Legionnaires succumbed, leaving perhaps three dozen men still standing.
Laendral stood, panting, hand upon her knees surveying the carnage they have wrought. Dead and dying men lay everywhere, mixed with orcs, and various other creatures. It was then that she saw Blayvanna, her eyes taking a flicker to register Brytan on top of her. Rushing to his side she knelt next to him, a hand gently caressing the young man's cheek. One tear rolled down her eyes, as she wiped the blood from his face and leaned forward. "We have won, Brytan." Then her lips touched his, in a soft kiss, as his consciousness finally gave way.
~Fin~
I believe we are done here gentlemen. I shall engage in a short PM discussion with each of you to see how to proceed.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
