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Post by Rayl Torien on Aug 12, 2010 15:18:26 GMT -6
Riding back into the fray, the Paladin took a quick scan of the battle. As of this moment, the rest of the wyvern were dropping like flies, one of their dragons taking the last one out. A small group of Etrurian soldiers remained cornered like rats, and probably would have died as such if Rayl hadn't ridden forward and gave orders to his cavaliers blocking them off not to attack, as he began trotting up the stairs to the wall. Nearby, lay a young man with golden hair, badly wounded. He wasn't sure as to what had happened, but he did remember seeing the man at the camp. thus hoisting the injured boy into the saddle, Elibe jumped down off the wall and out the gate, around the time Clair took off on Corona, and dropped the thief off to be treated at the medical tent.
Riding ONCE AGAIN back into the fort, satisfied that no enemy messengers got in, out, or near the fort, he scanned the skies to see how the battle against Ariston was going, figuring it was at an end as his mount was currently a plummeting carcass. But the dark canvas of the sky didn't permit him from seeing anything, and he instead rode to the front of his cavaliers guarding the remaining Etrurian Soldiers, weapon no longer drawn, and a smile on his face:
"My good friends, fellow brothers of humanity," he began in a calm voice, despite the environment and what had previously happened," I once rode before your walls in the battle prior, and asked if you would not join us. I do not wish to see those die who can instead turn their lives around for the better..." One of the soldiers scoffed, while the others began murmuring something inaudible; whether they were insults or otherwise he did not know.
"Sir, it's no use. These Etrurian scum tried to take over Araphen! They must be punishe-" Rayl held up a hand, silencing the cavalier at his left, before continuing," As I have told you before, and I have seen with my own eyes: The Prophet and his Right Hand Man, The Herald, have taken the citizens of your beautiful country: the people you SWORE to protect! The mothers...fathers...and CHILDREN! I have seen the prophet rob them of the blessings of life, only because they chose to believe what they choose to believe!" The murmuring continued amongst these few soldiers, around twelve or so. They're murmuring was of anger, there was no question about that, and one of his cavaliers nearly threw a spear at them, but his arm was stopped by the Paladin, who, all this time: was smiling.
"My friends, do you want this to keep happening?! Do you want your fellows to die for what they believe?!" a soft no was heard amongst them, and the other soldiers began looking around to find out which one of them said it: they looked like they had wanted to," Do you want to abandon your oaths as soldiers to protect your people?!" This time they all said no, albeit with more vigor.
"Then join us friends! I promise you that Commander Richter and I shall purge not just your lands, but the whole of Elibe from this vile plague!" The Etrurian Soldiers began cheering, some of them casting down their helmets into the dirt and blood, with the symbol of the The Prophet adorning them, " As we speak, your former commander, who eagerly ordered the execution of many of your brothers-in-arms, is being fought by Commander Richter. Now friends, exit the fort and make your way to the medical tents for treatment. Your armor will later be painted to remove the symbol of The Prophet."
With this he ordered the cavaliers to move aside, and the Etrurian soldiers, walked slowly out the gate, leaving their weapons to the side for later, to further show their change of heart. Looking back to some of the ground troops that had formed the ring, he then pointed to some of the doors," Check the other areas of the fortress for supplies: do not grab any of the water. Understood?!" Replies of 'yes sir' were heard as troops made their way to fulfill the orders of their superior. Rayl then proceeded to check other areas of the fort as well, every now and then finding a stray Etrurian soldier, and gave them option to join their forces...most agreed.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 12, 2010 15:30:22 GMT -6
[Ariston]
The impact shook the High Commander as he and Richter, and the wyvern and the dragon fought. He coughed up more blood on the back of his steed at the power of the blows. Ariston readied himself for the retaliation, resigned to death now, but fighting on out of habit, and a desire to destroy his opponents. What he didn't expect was to be full on tackled off of his wyvern.
As they fell through the air, he lost his grip on his silver sword. This didn't stop him from trying to punch kick and otherwise throttle his opponent. The movements took on an erratic, desperate air, as they fell, spinning through the air. He thought he was going to be sick, but that was not really a concern anymore.
[Clair]
Things were beginning to cool down, that much was for sure. One could still hear the occasional struggle, but mostly it was beginning to be replaced with the moans of the injured, mostly on their own side. The poison that ther'd used had had the additional effect of weakening the enemy soldiers enough that ordinary injuries were killing them off. It was a horrible tactic, but it had spared many of their own forces, as had been expected.
She took a moment to locate a messenger, one of the few cavaliers under Richter's command, and told him this. "The area is secure enough. Go to the healer tents and tell them to send as many healers, as can be spared to the fort. Also, bring as many first aid supplies as can be brought back. Quickly."
The man was off like a shot. It wouldn't be long before the healers began showing up on the scene, and those bearing medical supplies to assist in the work. There simply weren't enough healers to cover everything, but almost anyone would be able to take from a stockpile to heal for others.
Clair caught the tail end of Rayl's speech. The rain was beginning to wash away the grey coating that she'd covered her mighty winged horse with as she thought to herself.
That was well said, Sir Rayl. I don't want anymore killing than what the enemy demands.... I just hope they won't turn on us later.... Our army is nowhere near as powerful as the rest of the Inquistorial Army.
OoC: Please note that the supplies being brought in are for story purposes only. I do not have permission to hand them out, but it makes sense in the story to get as many people stableized as possible, and there aren't enough healers to go around in the army.
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Post by Tuatara 'Tut' Yamen on Aug 12, 2010 16:06:44 GMT -6
There was a bright light. "Am..I..Dead?" Tuatara asked.
"No, but you were almost there when we got you." It was some healer-lady. "Your real tuff for a small guy."
"Oh...well can I have some bacon well I'm gonna find Aeros." He hopped up and rain off.
"Wai-t. Soldiers," The healer said with a roll of her eyes. "They all have to be tuff."
Mean while.....
"Aeros! I'm alive!" Tuatara yelled as he run up to his friend. He tried to give him a hug, but ended up bouncing off. "Shiny!" He then reverted his attention to a axe laying on the ground 40ft away. Tuatara run over and began to stuff it in his satchel. But in the process several items spilled out. He didn't notice the two men falling toward him.
OoC: We could get items from that. Without Aeros Tut is useless. His purpose is to follow Aeros around.
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 12, 2010 16:10:42 GMT -6
Richter's eyes bolted open as he went sailing through the air, colliding into Ariston, losing both of his swords as he did so. The impact knocked the High Commander off of the wyvern, taking the rebel commander with him, and the two began a deadly dance as they hurtled through the air, plummeting towards the ground like giant man-sized raindrops. When they hit the ground, though, it would be an explosion of blood, not water, that marked their impact.
They were falling, and they would die. It didn't matter. He had already died years ago. The thing fighting the Etrurian general was nothing but a sword, fueled by vengeance. The rebel commander would make sure, that if by some freak accident the High Commander could survive this fall, he wouldn't. Ariston would be dead before he hit the ground. His hair whipping around his head like pink flames, Richter yelled and grasped at the Etrurian commander's neck, both hands gripping with fury.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Aug 12, 2010 18:01:38 GMT -6
Guinevere was fighting hard when Rayl started to give his speech. The only person she had ever seen have such a command over soldiers like that was Commander Richter. She had to admit she was surprised but pleased when the enemy started to leave. She smiled slightly as she watched soldiers head out to do as he ordered. He really was a great leader. With the soldiers she was fighting now gone, she made her way slowly over to Rayl. When she finally got there, she greeted him with a small "Hey."
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Aeros
Manakete
Posts: 77
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Aeros on Aug 13, 2010 14:57:52 GMT -6
Even as Richter finished his first deadly duel, Aeros whirled almost in place, savaging soldiers as he went. All this time the dragon had never wondered where the fighting instinct came from; he held it as only that, and used it to all his ability now. Each warrior that fell caused another moment's hesitation, which in turn caused another to fall. How long had the battle been going? Time had lost meaning. This fight would only be measured in every mind as "the next foe to fall," "the next comrade to mourn," "the next wound to ignore."
So Rayl's spectacular entrance earned no attention, screams meant nothing but another casualty, Ariston's speech was another lob of meaningless gibbering.
The entrance of a certain thief and the appearance of another dragon, however, could be ignored by no one, even a battle-crazed manakete. Marcus? Marchamut? The name rolled in Aeros' head. Why? He hadn't...had he? The dragon's mind fuzzed for a moment, as if reaching back for something...or nothing.
Clink. A sword against scales brought him back to the situation at hand; a swing of his head revealed a dazed-looking swordsman--if the weapon lying on the ground indicated anything--flat on his back, hands chafed from an apparently hard blow. Aeros continued to stare as the man sat up, glanced around for his sword, reached for the weapon, saw the draconic gaze on him, and quickly scrambled away, whimpering quietly.
But..."Aeros!! A-Aeros! H-help me!" Everything seemed to stop as Tuatara’s voice rang out, echoing over all other voices. Before the echo had even died, the few who had dared challenge the silver dragon found themselves temporarily without an opponent; temporarily because they were quickly mown down by more attentive rebels. With his only friend on the line, all else took second fiddle.
Such focus could be a problem when three battle-hardened wyverns were let loose.
There was nothing a manakete could do, but Aeros stood guard over the injured thief, barely moving even as friend and foe alike raged around him. However, he did watch, looking on as the wyverns took over the battlefield, watched Ariston taunt Richter from his cowardly position atop one of the lizards. Watching, however, had never been something natural to a dragon. When Tuatara was carried off by Rayl, Aeros mechanically scanned the battlefield for something to do…instead, he found a former battlefield, now an empty field of blood.
In due course, Rayl had finally convinced some of the enemy to abandon their Prophet; when Tuatara rushed forward, alive and well, the chaos seemed to shrink and vanish, angrily retreating as peace and order thrust their way in.
The battle had one last hold: a flash of pink against the grey sky betrayed two figures, locked in what would be the last conflict either would have. At least, if nothing was done.
Pink met silver as Aeros launched himself upward. Rarely would a human make an impact on a manakete’s life, but Richter was now this manakete’s commander. It was a race, Aeros against gravity, for the life of one man. Or two, as the case would be; coordination in the air at high speed was something to be questioned. It could only be hoped that the commander saved would be the right one…
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 13, 2010 15:28:56 GMT -6
[Clair]
When the supplies arrived, Clair immediately dismounted, and went to the stock, taking out several vulneraries. She was tired, and still had several minor injuries (her head still buzzed with the near miss of that thunder tome early in the fight), but she also knew which injuries could be treated with a simple salve, and which needed more attention.
As she finished tending an injury, she began scanning the area, looking for her commander. She hadn't considered the possibility that he'd not made it. He was so focused in battle, and so capable, that it was hard to imagine him losing to anyone. After tending another injured soldier, she discreetly began wandering about, looking for the absent Richter Abend, Corona following behind..
[Ariston]
Ariston tried to contend with Richter for a time, but once the rebel had a grip on his throat, it was over. The proud High Commander of the Inquisitorial Army felt his throat cracking under the pressure. Abend was irresistable in his fury.
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 13, 2010 16:05:19 GMT -6
Richter's hands remained latched onto Ariston's throat as they plummeted through the air like a silver and rose colored meteor. The High Commander struggled for awhile, but his movements began to slow as his air supply was slowly cut off. Neither of them noticed the giant dragon flying up to meet them, and were both rocked as they hit Aeros's back. The force of the impact dislodged the rebel commander's hands from Ariston's throat as both of them were knocked away from each other, gripping to the dragon for dear life as they began to slide off.
With an undying stamina that marathon runners would kill for, Richter slowly pulled himself over the dragon's shoulder where he had landed and crept towards Ariston, who looked back at his opponent with what almost looked like fear and disbelief. As long as Ariston still lived, Richter would hold little concern for his own. Ariston, still catching his breath, grew furious. "That treacherous cur!" he thought to himself as he too began to try to pull himself towards the pink haired devil. "I serve the Prophet and St. Elimine!" shouted the general over the roar of the wind. "My cause is good! My mission is holy! What could a soulless hired sword like you understand about my duty?"
Richter was only half-conscious at this point. It was mere force of will that drove him now. His silence made Ariston even more fearful. "Why does he fight so hard? What drives him?" the Etrurian High Commander continued to think to himself. How could his divine mission be stopped by some vengeful demon-possessed mercenary dog? He had no doctrine! "You have no faith in St. Elimine! You will not win in the end, Richter Abend!" Again, Richter did not respond, but simply continued to drag himself closer to Ariston.
No, Ariston, High Commander of Etruria and servant of St. Elimine and his Prophet, would not be put down like a dog by this...this dog! Gathering his strength, Ariston pulled himself to his knees, holding onto Aeros by a spine, and drew a knife from his belt. To be reduced to such a weapon was disgraceful, but it was necessary at this point. As Richter too began to pick himself up, Ariston launched himself forward and thrust his knife into Richter's side, pushing the two into the indentation between Aeros's powerful flapping wings behind his neck.
"What...!?" The question bolted through Richter's mind as quickly as the pain shot through his body. Ariston was on top of him, a smug look on his face as he sat upright. The rebel commander could feel a sharp pain in his side. "I'm...going to die? Here? Now?" Richter grimaced as he lifted up an arm to grasp the back of Ariston's neck. "No, I've come...so far. All the people he's killed. All the lives he's destroyed. I'm not going to die like this!" Taking his other arm, Richter ripped the dagger from his side and plunged it into Ariston's heart. A shocked, pained look spread across the High Commander's face, looking down at his chest.
"W-what...?" stuttered Ariston as he tried to get to his feet, forgetting he was still on a dragon. Richter laughed painfully. "I...told you...I was going...to pierce your heart," he said between heavy breaths. "Consider that...a promise...kept." Ariston, shaking his head, tried to grab the knife in his chest as he stood up, but a large gust of wind knocked him off balance and sent him falling off of the manakete's back.
As he fell, the High Commander closed his eyes. "My Prophet!" his final thoughts began, "I have served you well, have I not? I have done all you've asked. I have purged every heretic and have converted every sinner to the path of light in St. Elimine's name...Have I earned my place in paradise?"
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Mavick
Seer
Little Strategist
"The Darkness... It consumes me."
Posts: 208
Etruria Fame: -2
Sacae Fame: 1
Affinity: Dark
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Post by Mavick on Aug 13, 2010 16:37:01 GMT -6
Mavick watched as the High Officer fell down, down, down, and came to a crashing halt to the ground. "Checkmate." he murmured, shutting his tomb and dropping it into his satchel. There was no way the soldiers didn't see that. This battle was over, the fort was theirs. And they have me to thank, of course. he thought as he descended the steps to the main floor.
Stepping out onto the main floor, Mavick made a beeline for the High Commander. Stooping down, he put his fingers to Ariston's neck. "Dead". That confirmed, he then pulled the dagger from the mans chest and whiped it on his(Ariston's) pant leggings. "Nice little souvenir from my first victory." he commented to himself as he removed the scabbard from Aristons belt, sheathed the dagger, and tucked it into the sash of his robes. He probably would never use it, but it might come in handy. Just might. "I suppose it's only right that Commander Abend gets claim to this one," he lamented, "But oh well. I doubt theres much else on him I can use anyways. His weapons and armor are too big for me, and frankly I don't care for those things anyways..." Besides, there were plenty other bodies to loot. Mostly for money, as he doubted there were any other dark mages. He then looked up. "Is he going to come down now or risk being struck by lightning?" he wondered aloud. He then backed away so that the damned dragon wouldn't land on him.
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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 Aug 14, 2010 8:33:48 GMT -6
Marcus watched triumphantly as the dead wyvern plummeted to the ground. As it fell he saw the two commanders, still locked in battle as they fell. Marcus began to dive towards them, but another dragon caught them. Where did this dragon come from, he thought, puzzled. It seemed that this one was on there side, so Marcus just watched the battle rage on the other dragon's back. Shocked, he watched as Richter was stabbed in the side, only to retaliate and stab Ariston in the chest. The dragon's heart pounded with joy as he watched that demon who had wronged him plummet to what he was sure was his death. Marcus landed on the ground, and moved over to the body. "Dead," he heard some small-bodied shaman proclaim. Good, Marcus thought, however this demon does not deserve a human funeral. With that, Marcus clamped down on the horrible man's leg, and tossed him up. Catching him in his mouth, Marcus chewed a few times and swallowed. The former high commander was no more, in any sense of the word. Having eaten Ariston, Marcus released all his energy back into his dragonstone, and turned back into his human form, still clutching the bloody bone knife.
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Mavick
Seer
Little Strategist
"The Darkness... It consumes me."
Posts: 208
Etruria Fame: -2
Sacae Fame: 1
Affinity: Dark
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Post by Mavick on Aug 14, 2010 13:23:47 GMT -6
Mavick felt his eye twitch as he stared at the manakete in disbelief. He then slapped his own forehead. "Bravo!" he scowled. "You just ate, literally ATE, a fine set of armor and possibly a rather large wallet of gold. Tell me, would it have been so hard to wait, what, five minutes, untill we'd liberated him of anything valuable before you started wolfing him down? You seriously couldn't wait FIVE MINUTES!?" he demanded.
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Evayl
The "Before" years
[M:0]
You're gonna need my help!
Posts: 56
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Post by Evayl on Aug 14, 2010 20:55:09 GMT -6
After Rayl had dropped her off, Evayl immediately went about finding a way to jump into the action. She saw a crate of staffs, and did not question how they had gotten there. She grabbed one and looked around for a mount- no horse was as good as her Mely, but she couldn't help anyone on foot. After frantically searching, Evayl found a horse, alone, and ran up to it. She gave it a reassuring pat on the mane before jumping on. Her bones still ached from her fall, but that would not deter her.
As she galloped to the main fighting area, Evayl saw a glorious sight. She saw Ariston, or at least his very noticeable armor, falling down, far down. Evayl watched, and when he hit the ground, she felt so...right. The battle was over now, in spirit at least, so she went as quickly as she could to the body.
When Evayl arrived, she jumped down from her mount and watched as a dragon, not the same one that she had seen far earlier, devoured the body. She heard a small man berate the dragon, but Evayl could only smile. "He was a foul man. He deserves no less than this." she announced. Evayl turned to the small man now. "You are Mavick, yes? I believe it was your plan to poison the soldiers. It worked quite well." she said.
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 19, 2010 20:32:15 GMT -6
The thunder and rain above his head, Richter shook with a powerful thud as Aeros landed upon the earth. With a gasp, Richter pulled himself off of the dragon, rolling to the ground, and attempted to pull himself to his feet. The wound, however, was deep. The pain of a knife through the side of one's ribcage was extraordinarily painful. With the pink haired commander's rage and fury gone, he hadn't the strength to stand, falling over face in the mud.
"I...could use some...help here," Richter managed to cough out.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Aug 19, 2010 21:52:03 GMT -6
Seeing the smaller-sized, silver dragon, Clair went over to ask him if he'd seen the Commander. She'd still not been able to locate Richter. When she saw him on the ground, bleeding out a major injury, it brought a yelp to her lips.
"Richter!" She looked around for a healer. This would take more than a simple vulnerary to fix.
"I...could use some...help here," Richter managed to cough out.
"Medic! Officer Down!" Clair yelled out frantically. She dropped to her knees beside the Commander, the dragon, Aeros, forgotten, and got ready to apply pressure to the injury. "Hold on. Help's not far away.... This might hurt." With that, she pressed on the injury, holding an empty sack that had once held a vulnerary against it, and hoped that it could limit the blood flow.
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Fran
The "Before" years
[M:0]
"I am so excited."
Posts: 66
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Post by Fran on Aug 22, 2010 0:06:50 GMT -6
(Continued from Straight and Narrow Path)
"Are you sure, Stephan? This place is nothing but a ruin." Fran looked down to the fort. She saw many soldiers down here, and she could see two dragons too. The fort was seriously damaged after the battle. On her back, Stephan and Solon was sitting here, she tried to not make them fall. She carried them on her back from Etruria to Sacae, a very long and boring trip.
"Why I have a feeling that I will meet an old friend?"
Her wings made a loud sound in the sky as they continued flapping. "What should we do, Stephan, Solon?" She asked to those two free passengers. Maybe she should take a payment from them next time?
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