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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 2, 2010 21:35:40 GMT -6
Clair and Corona found themselves winging away from the fort's walls. The pegasus knight could hear the twangs of the archer's bows, and the the sounds of mage's fire and lightning bolts blasting away behind her, but there were surprisingly few for such a fortification. The poison must be doing it's work.
Just as she though she was clear of their range, there was a tremendous clap, and a brilliant flash. She felt Corona falter and drop several feet through the air as a lightning bolt sizzled through them. If it hadn't been for all the time she'd spent training, and the natural resistance that acompanied pegasi, she'd have dropped dead there. As it was, she only gritted her teeth and tried to get the sudden jitters out of her charged limbs.
The flash had temporarily blinded her, but ,thankfully, there wasn't a great deal of traffic in the air to deal with. When she could finally see and hear properly again, she found herself over Commander Richter's army. It was charging forward, clearly ready to smash through whatever got in their way... Once they got to their opponents that is.
Circling around, she prepared to find a place to sweep in from unawares.
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Rein
The "Before" years
[M:0]
Posts: 22
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Post by Rein on Jul 10, 2010 3:28:33 GMT -6
Rein could hear sound of explosion. Soon, smoke rose into the sky and sound of people shouting could be heard. The ground was shaking but it wasn't earthquake. Many people charged to this fort, he was sure about that. "I see. So I am trapped in the middle of battle." Since he was captured, he knew this fort belong to Etruria because he saw many Etruria soldiers here. He didn't know who the attacker and didn't try to guess.
He looked to his new Sacaen friend and the winged-guy. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see the winged-guy. He hoped they had an idea about what going on.
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Aeros
Manakete
Posts: 77
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Aeros on Jul 20, 2010 20:03:37 GMT -6
The request itself likely should have caught Aeros off guard, but the fire that now shone in Richter's expression held all of the certainty needed, for this battle and otherwise. Young or not, inexperienced or not, the manakete knew well enough what a proper driving force could do. If the man wanted to win this battle, killing Ariston along the way, Aeros saw no reason not to put himself to use.
Five years of companionship had taught the dragon how to let others--namely Tuatara, of course--climb onto him, and so he put that experience to use, crouching down with his wings folded back. In reality, anyone taller than the eccentric thief could clamber on easily. It seemed more courteous to help some.
There remained one thing that he wanted to resolve first. While the answer seemed obvious, and its importance minimal, the manakete decided hearing the pink-haired Ilian say it could hurt no one. And so, after the former mercenary had climbed aboard, Aeros straightened and asked his question:
"Do you hate him?"
Interest and curiosity were all that colored his voice; hatred meant next to nothing to a creature practically fed and watered with conflict from first memory, with no one to teach the art of loathing. The concept itself was there, but Aeros himself saw it only as something that was, not as something he himself need worry about. He did realize the answer could, would have to wait, as the small area that had cleared around them had no need to wait, while the enemy commander would not want to wait. Muscles tensed, wings stroked once, twice, and they were hurtling toward the fortress, adding yet another threat from above.
Of course, any threat from above could be threatened from below. What archers remained began to rally as the dragon approached. How many of them believed those...clerics? Aeros thought, although they hadn't seemed much like clerics to Aeros, at least according to his limited experience. I don't want my wings shot at while I'm moving someone. This did pose a problem; anything airborne held their methods of flight as their greatest vulnerability, protected best through distance.
Sickened soldiers could still do damage to weak points, so what if all weak points were hidden?
There was promise to that. "Hold on," the dragon tossed back to Richter. Slowly, to the archers' apparent confusion, he began to climb; confusion molded into shock as the climb turned into a plunge angled over the fortress wall. Arrows began to fly in a frenzy. What was their target? A gradually blurring mass of impenetrable silver scales, not a favorable target to anyone... So why not the rider, conveniently sporting a head of pink hair?
Each arrow that flew astray--ergo, all of them--caused the morale of the men to sink with their health.
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Marcus
Manakete
Dragon Reborn
Hell and back is a long way to go, but my journey's only begun.
Posts: 176
Profession: Wanderer
Affinity: Dark
Dragon Element: Lightning
Profile: Marcus
OoC Alias: Marc
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Post by Marcus on Jul 21, 2010 9:07:33 GMT -6
"Follow me," Marcus shouted to his new companions as he dashed down the hall,"That hell-spawn Ariston still has my dragonstone. I swear on my dead mother's soul, he'll be drowning in my stomach before this battle is over!" Marcus rounded a corner dashing straight into another patrol. "Oi, look the beast got out of his cage. What ya say we put him down?" One of the soldiers said lookingback at his fellow soldiers, chuckling. He never got a response, nor was he laughing for long, as Marcus tackled himto the ground with a wing powered lung. The dragon was quickly on top of the soldier, crazily stabbing at him with the bone knife. He hoped the other two got here quickly, for he couldn't take three soldiers outside of his true form.
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Rein
The "Before" years
[M:0]
Posts: 22
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Post by Rein on Jul 21, 2010 10:45:01 GMT -6
"Hey! Wait!" The winged guy ran leaving Rein and the the thief behind. Didn't have any choice, Rein followed him. Then he saw, that guy charged to three soldiers alone and quickly disabled one. The other two surprised with the sudden attack, but they gained their composure and unsheathed their swords. The winged guy left his back open for an attack as he continued stabbing a soldier.
The Sacae swordman threw his sword-sheath to the soldier, enough to turn their attention towards him. He jumped and swung his sword, the soldiers parried his attack and then attacked him together . He desperately managed to block two swords at once, then he moved quickly behind them with swift movement and excellent footwork. His sword easily beheaded them, the guards never had any chance to evade this kind of attack. Their body fell to the ground, Rein sighed and sheathed his sword. "My friend, please don't act recklessly like that. We must stick together to survive."
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 21, 2010 14:06:08 GMT -6
As Richter agilely jumped onto the manakete's back, he was a tad stalled by the question posed to him. Hate? He hadn't really put that kind of thought into it. Ariston was evil, yes, and so he had to die, but the rebel commander hadn't really thought about how he felt about it. However, while he hadn't thought about it, Richter knew how he felt in an instant. It was the only emotion rushing through him right now.
"Yes, Aeros, I do hate him," he replied calmly as the powerful wing beats of the dragon thrust them into the air, but anyone listening could hear the underlying fire in his voice. Before, his hate had blinded him, but now, the hate of Richter Abend, former mercenary and leader of the rebel soldiers against the false Prophet, opened his eyes more than ever.
Despite the fact that battle was raging all around him, Richter couldn't help but take pause at the exhilarating feel of flight. It was an adrenaline rush that the pink haired swordsman could get used to quickly. He could see why Clair always had a slight smile on her face every time she took off on Corona.
The shouts of commanders on the fortress walls forced Richter back into reality as he identified the immediate threat of archers. As he'd seen before, even this mighty dragon-boy could be taken down by enough arrows. But what if Aeros covered his wings? Almost as if reading his mind, the manakete shot into the air.
"Hold on."
At this, Richter gripped Aeros's scales as hard as he could, and the dragon's wings pulled in, preparing a dive. There was a slight pause before the two of them suddenly began screaming down towards the Etrurian force, piercing through the mass of arrows like a lighting blot pierces through a cloud. The force of the fall shuddered the pink haired commander to the bone, but he continued to hold on. It was that or he would end up splattered along the Sacaen plains. As arrow after arrow zipped by Richter's head, the ex-mercenary only wished for the safety of solid ground. Maybe it would take a bit longer to get used to flying than he thought. He wouldn't let himself lose focus, though. The second they touched down, Richter would be fighting for his life. And for Ariston's.
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Post by Tuatara 'Tut' Yamen on Jul 21, 2010 14:43:34 GMT -6
Tuatara followed Marcus out of the prison area. Good thing he knows where to go, he thought, cause I don't remember where Ariston's office is.
Marcus rounded a corner and then there was some voices, followed by a crash. "Baddies," Tuatara said, turning toward Rein. But he wasn't there, and Tuatara caught a glimpse of the swordsman running around the corner.
"Wait for me, sword-boy and wing-man," he called out, running after Rein. Tuatara came around the corner to find two dead guards and Marcus getting thrown off a third. The guard jumped to his feet and began to draw his sword.
Acting quickly, Tuatara ran up and jumped at the wall, pushing off. He hurdled toward the guard, socking him ion the face before landing with a roll. The man fell on his butt, stunned. "Thats right, I don't need a sword t- OWWWW!" Tuatara held his hand with his other, trying not to shout with pain.
OoC: Haha! I finally got a good name for Marcus!
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 22, 2010 21:01:34 GMT -6
As Clair swung around through the air, she heard a large "whumping" sound. Apparently, she wasn't the only one to have taken to the skies. She saw a form rising through the air, and, soon enough, realized the dragon's intent. The other, significantly larger target attracted a good deal of attention, and provided her with a chance to run a strafe along the wall again.
Without any delay, Corona swept into the space where Aeros was headed, touching down, and running through it. Clair was clearing the area from his back, giving anyone too slow to move a prodding from her slim lance. As far as the pegasus was concerned, anyone who didn't clear out when they were about to get dived on by a dragon deserved to get stabbed, and vice versa.
Rather than taking prompting him to take off again, like he was expecting, Corona's rider instead had him move back from the edges, of the wall, behind some of the rubble from the structures on the walls. At least we're somewhat sheltered here from those Twangy-prick-launchers, that some men carry. And at least we're were far enough away to not get smushed by Scaly-wind-lords.... Hey! What's my Clair doing climbing down in the middle of battle?
Clair was indeed dismounting, and pulling down the killer lance with her. The battle would soon be to the point where air support was either too dangerous or useless. If this battle was moving out of her turf, then she'd have to follow it to stay useful. "Corona, take off! Fly high." Her pegasus didn't look like he wanted to comply. "Fly high!" She shouted again, pointing skyward with her free hand this time.
Despite having the face of a horse, she could practically read his mind. He was not happy to be leaving his rider, but he would obey. Otherwise, there would be no carrots for dinner. that and he was a well trained creature of war. Never the less, Clair knew that he would be watching the entire time, from above.
Once he cleared off, Clair took a deep breath, and got ready to face the enemy. Even with such a formidable weapon as she now held, fighting an opponent on the ground was a good bit different than from the back of a pegasus. Thankfully, she knew from personal experience, that these enemies were considerably weakened just now. All she had to do was keep them from overwhelming her. That, and join up with the forces that would soon be arriving on the wall.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 26, 2010 1:49:20 GMT -6
The dragon and the commander hit the ground with a resounding thud, the vibrations of the earth and the powerful blasts of air from Aeros's wing beats knocking over more than just a few soldiers. Taking merely seconds to recover from his own rattled bones, Richter leaped from Aeros's back and drew his killing edge. It's polished steel and sharpened edge glistened in the moonlight. The commander couldn't help but admire it, if just for a quick moment. This was a true cleaver of men; the blade that would pierce Ariston's black heart.
The soldiers hesitated at the sight of the newly arrived dragon and his pink haired rider, but slowly getting over there shock, and even more their sickness, one by one the Etrurian zealots began to run towards Richter. So the poison had been successfully delivered. "I guess you can find your friend now!" shouted Richter to Aeros. "If he's still alive, that is. I wouldn't make any large bets on that."
In their sickened state and combined with the fear of the near mythical, the soldiers didn't seem too pose much of a threat, but it didn't take long to notice some of the soldiers standing taller and moving faster than their brethren. They either hadn't partook in the venomous gift Richter had so generously prepared for them, or they just hadn't been as affected as their fellow combatants. Either way, the pink haired swordsman felt no fear. His nostrils flared with blood-lust as he prepared for the impeding slaughter of all these foolish, weak-minded dogs. He'd carve through as many soldiers as necessary to reach Ariston. Their lives meant nothing to him, just as the lives of every innocent in Ostia had meant nothing to them. He was simply the sword of justice, bring that death full circle.
With a yell that sounded like a mix between a roar and a grunt, Richter bolted forward, and in a flash, thrust his sword through what would be the first of many dead Etrurians.
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Post by Rayl Torien on Jul 26, 2010 15:11:18 GMT -6
The look on Guinevere's face said it all, and the smile on his own shone brightly. His mind was clouded with delusion; with thoughts of riding off together into the sunset, away from all this madness. If there was ever a time to be lost in the labyrinth of love...this certainly wasn't the time. And luckily one of his men came in after to pull him back to reality.
The captain of the Araphen troops, Sir Holden, who had patiently waited and watched the events take fold, both of the battle and between the two soldiers, soon rode up at a slow gait, cleared his throat, and respectfully tapped The Paladin on the shoulder,"Commander, your orders...? Commander."
Rayl kept his back turned to Sir Holden for a moment, back in the moment, a look of regret in his eyes, as he turned back to face them," Get the horsemen ready, we ride in the moment the gates are open. Have your foot soldiers surround the outer rim of the castle: Stop any messengers by any means necessary. If any of them get past and send word to The Prophet..." only now had The Holy Knight (to be) realized the folly of his riding to Richter's aid. He did not regret it on the level of comradery, where it truly mattered to him, but on the political level...it was one of the worst mistakes he possibly could take.
"Rider's follow me!" he shouted out, but paused as Richter's men went over the wall, as did their commander, atop Aeros in a manner befitting the Mercenary Crowley. This put a smile back onto his face, as he looked back to Gwen,"...You think you can get the gate open?" He was trying to act professional around her, but that face of hers...well, it was making things difficult.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jul 26, 2010 16:13:29 GMT -6
Guinevere snapped to attention at once, her instincts as a soldier taking over. "Of course I can." She swiftly pulled her helmet on and strapped her lance to her back for the climb over the wall. She took a step before turning back to Rayl. "We'll talk after, ok?" She gave him one of her famous smiles. "See you on the other side."
With that, she hurried off to the wall, threw herself up onto one of the ladders and started to climb. When she reached the top, the sight of the battle reached her eyes. Taking the Commander's words to heart, she steeled hers and jumped down into the fray. As soon as she landed, an enemy swordsman hurried over to her. Well, hurried as much as a sick person too. Before he even got close, however, Gwen knelt down and impaled him as he ran. Having dealt with that, she hurried over to the gate.
Two soldiered were there waiting. Readying her lance, she charged. The first soldier, another swordsman, ran out to meet her. The other, an archer, readied and arrow and fired. Thankfully, it missed and she focused on the sword fighter. He have a few half-hearted swings before Gwen gave a mighty cross slash that caused him to crumble to the ground. She turned to the archer just in time to see the arrow flying at her. It hit her in the leg with the armor blocking most of it but still causing her pain. Fighting through it, she charged at him again and lunged. The archer dodged out of the way and scampered off into the fray. Letting the man go, she quickly started to raise the gate. She hoped Rayl and his men would be there quickly. She wanted that archer.
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Rein
The "Before" years
[M:0]
Posts: 22
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Post by Rein on Jul 26, 2010 23:48:06 GMT -6
Rein thought about the situation. Most of the guards already left the prison area, they defended the wall now. It was a good thing because it made his escape easier, he didn't have any reason to stay here any longer. He was here because he was caught this morning, particularly because of his own foolishness. His belongings were taken away by the warden, now he just had a sword in his hand, no vulnerary, no money.
He walked to the corner and looked around, he saw no one. The sound of steel clashed and men screamed could be heard from the outside, maybe he were close to the exit now. He then turned his attention to two men behind him, it seemed they had finished killing the last guard. That dragon-guy said he was looking for someone called Ariston, "Is he the same Ariston who led Etruria troops in Sacae?" If the answer was "Yes", the myrmidon wouldn't be surprised if he was caught in a battle between that Ariston and the rebel. Thanks to the chief, he gave Rein enough knowledge about what happened in this world.
He approached Marcus, "It seems you know the way. Lead us." Then he looked to the thief who always called him 'sword-boy', "I don't care about how you call me. But you can call me Rein."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 27, 2010 14:03:42 GMT -6
Clair moved warily along the wall, getting into quick, short engagements with the enemy soldiers. Where she was at, most of the soldiers went down quicker than she could send them, falling to the effects of the poison they'd drunk earlier that day.
She came up on a group of about five etrurian spearmen who were trying to push a ladder away from the wall. The ladders were her only source of support. Then she noticed one of her allies was trying to get the fortress' gate open, to allow more troops in. Which was she to help?
With no time to think, she drove off towards the gate. If they could take the gate, then the whole army could march straight in. As she approached, she recognized the soldier. It was Guinevere. They'd agreed to have a sparring match the somewhere in the last few days. Seeing the task at hand, she quickly set her own weapon aside, and threw her energy into helping work the gate's opening mechanisms.
(OoC: Gwen? Were you thinking the gate controls were on the wall, or on the ground?)
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 28, 2010 23:19:28 GMT -6
Richter sliced through soldier after soldier as he cut a swathe through the sick soldiers. The rebel commander's blade was sharpened by his fury; his arm strengthened by his hate. The unfortunate Etrurian soldiers felt nothing but fear as their heads were relieved from their shoulders, their arms lopped from their sides, and their guts torn from their abdomens. Covered in the blood of his foes, the Ilian swordsman looked like demon of battle, more monster than man. Any wounds he incurred were ignored just as quickly, for Richter's mind was focused on nothing but battle. Looking over the heads of the Etrurian mob, the pink haired rebel saw Ariston perched atop his steed, his pristine High Commander's armor gleaming white, contrasting with the red shine of Richter's bloodstained uniform.
As he began to rush forward, the rebel leader was blindsided as another soldier barreled into him, almost knocking him over. Recovering from the collision, Richter turned towards his assailant, only to be approached by another, much healthier looking soldier. His armor was more ornate than the standard uniform, resembling Richter's own uniform, albeit without the blood. So, one of Ariston's faithful High Officers. By the look of it, the officers had their own food and water supply. All the better. At this point in the fight, Richter was more concerned with proving his own might over these Etrurian scum than he was actual victory. He'd prove with his own sword that their indoctrinated ideology was nothing more than garbage.
"So, one more High Officer that continues to lick Ariston's boot," spat Richter. The other man merely scowled back. He saw Richter as nothing more than a wild dog that had freed itself from its leash. Slowly, the High Officer drew his sword. "I don't know what the Herald saw in you, and it is not my duty to question his greatness," responded the officer, "but your crimes and heresy against the Prophet can no longer be tolerated." The soldier finished drawing his sword and brandished it, pointing its tip at the rebel commander. "I will put you down like the lawless cur you are."
Richter merely grinned. "When I cut you to the ground, those words will only make you look like that much more of an idiot for following Ariston, the Herald, and their false-Prophet," he said, confident in his own abilities. At Richter's words, the High Officer grew noticeably angry. "I will silence your tongue before you can slander his Holiness any longer!" The High Officer held his sword close to his side as he charged Richter, slashing upward as he reached the rebel. Richter stepped back, the tip of his opponent's blade cutting through his uniform.
Cringing at his slip, Richter attempt to retreat to collect himself, slashing sideways at his opponent as he stepped back, but the High Officer was relentless. His sword over his soldier, the Etrurian soldier ducked the Ilian's swipe and swung downwards, leaving another wound on Richter's chest. Grabbing his shirt, the pink haired soldier shot the High Officer a burning gaze. The soldier simply smiled haughtily and nodded his head. "Like I said: a lawless cur," he said smugly. Richter shook his head and stood up straight. "Look I got ahead of myself," he replied coolly.
The rebel commander took a deep breath and took a stance, setting one foot towards the High Officer and one foot away, holding his sword in front of him, pointing skywards. His opponent was no sick grunt. This was a High Officer of Etruria, a man who held the position Richter once did, and he probably didn't earn it by become friends with the Herald. If the pink haired Ilian couldn't defeat this man, he'd have no chance against Ariston.
The Etrurian's brow furrowed, but his temperament remained the same. He brought his sword up, and once again lunged towards Richter. Richter did the same, lunging towards the High Officer. As the soldier stabbed his sword at the pink haired swordsman, Richter sidestepped the attack and, stepping past his opponent, slashed the man's side. As the two fighters turned again to face each other, Richter could see the anger on the High Officer's face. After all, who was Richter Abend, a lowly, treacherous Ilian mercenary, to lay his blade on a superior Eturian High Officer.
"If you give up, I'll make your end painless," said Richter haughtily. The High Officer spat. "Don't flatter yourself, scum," he replied. "Marking me once doesn't mean victory." At this, Richter lunged forward, bringing his blade down upon the Eturian in a powerful cut. The High Officer brought his weapon up, blocking the strike. The two swordsman broke into a flurry of blows; attacking, defending, countering, and parrying. The deadly exchange swirled about, no soldier daring to get too close. Then suddenly, it stopped.
Both combatants jumped backwards, staring at each other and panting. Both were bloodied and bruised, though Richter seemed, by looking at their injuries, to have the upper hand. "This fight is mine," said Richter in between breaths. "Never," gasped the High Officer, spitting out blood. He swung at the rebel commander. In reaction, Richter grabbed his opponent's arm, pulling him towards himself, and thrust his blade through the Etrurian soldier's stomach. The man's face was frozen in a look of utter surprise as Richter twisted his blade, wrenching it further into the High Officer's gut. He brought the dying man's ear towards his lips. "Let's see your Prophet save you now," he whispered, his voice laced with hate. Then in one quick movement, Richter unsheathed his sword from the High Officer's gut and swung his blade through his neck, sending his head to the ground.
As the High Officer's decapitated body crumpled to the ground, spraying Richter with blood, the rebel officer stared at Ariston with a piercing gaze. "ARISTON!" Richter shouted at the top of his lungs. "I've come for your head!"
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Marcus
Manakete
Dragon Reborn
Hell and back is a long way to go, but my journey's only begun.
Posts: 176
Profession: Wanderer
Affinity: Dark
Dragon Element: Lightning
Profile: Marcus
OoC Alias: Marc
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Post by Marcus on Jul 30, 2010 12:25:20 GMT -6
Marcus stood up, brushing himself off. They were close to the office, but he dragon did not feel the High Officer's presence. "He must be on the wall," he thought, "I just hope Ricther's troops are doing their part." "This way," he shouted back to his new comrades, then took off sprinting down the hall. Luckily, most of the soldiers were in the courtyard fighting. After endless hallways and several flights of stairs, the dragon finnaly burst out onto the wall, two soldiers seperating Marcus from Ariston. It seemed that he was just in time, as Richter had just vanquished another officer. "Come get me you hell-spawns!" he shouted furiously, brandishing the bone knife.
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