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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 2, 2011 12:24:58 GMT -6
He might have been fast, but Clair was plenty agile herself, dodging and darting around his attacks while delivering aimed strikes of her own. Endellion had barely swung his head out of the way before Clair's killer lance came sailing past it. The spear did meet flesh, however, and cut a deep, bloody gash into the red haired man's right shoulder like a steely tooth biting into its prey. But Endellion did not howl out. He refused to give Clair the satisfaction of harming him. He simply gritted his teeth and stepped back with the spear's strike, allowing it to cut cleanly through in order to avoid losing too much of his shoulder.
She was like a gnat. A gnat that needed to be swatted, but Endellion had never seen such a deadly gnat before. Even off of her pegasus, this Falcoknight could stand against him. No! This was a fluke. He was off of his game. She had to die! F****** DIE!
If his axe couldn't hit her, he'd have to use something faster. With snap, Endellion twisted his waist to the right clockwise, using the momentum he had already created by stepping with Clair's spear, and lashed out with a powerful, closed fist aimed for the airborne girl's side.
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Katelyn
The "Before" years
[M:0]
Posts: 13
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Post by Katelyn on Jul 2, 2011 14:06:35 GMT -6
Katelyn slowly moved closer to the two fighting, her spear shaking, but as she heard the roar from behind her on the ridge, she saw the dragon. It's shadow had seemingly protected her from attacks, but now the dragon had been taken by suprise by a man wielding an rather ominous looking blade. The roar from the dragon as the blade pierced her scales took her by suprise, and she lost the lance fell to the ground. Scrambling around for a moment to find the slim lance.
"Oh, damn, great, a chance to show what I'm made off and I scramble around scared, and searching for my lance." She muttered, cursing herself in between breaths, until she touched the something cold and hard, her lance. She grabbed it and scrambled onto her feet her eyes gliding back and forth in front of her, as she looked to see where the sword wielding bandit had gone. She found a silhouette close by the roaring dragon.
The fighting on the ridge was close to over, and she passed wounded everywhere, occasionally a fumbling hand catching her leg, though she just gave whoever it was a kick, so that they'd release her. She held the lance with both hands, running forward shoulder faced towards the man who seemed to be preparing for another strike against the dragon.
Unbeknownst to the bandit, Katelyn had run through the soft snow without making too much noise, she charged forward, and gave out a yell. "Stick him with the pointy end!" She muttered, closing her eyes as she charged forward, suddenly her lance point caught some resistance, either a rock or just a lump of snow, throwing her out of balance, the last few feet, sending her flying forward, the point of her lance still pointing towards the bandit, whose shoulder got caught in it. The air knocked out of her as she landed on her stomach, her vision blurred for a moment, though she knew she had hit the man, as he let out a shriek, turning away from the dragon.
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Fran
The "Before" years
[M:0]
"I am so excited."
Posts: 66
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Post by Fran on Jul 2, 2011 23:27:09 GMT -6
"I was careless." Fran felt the pain on her back, her thick scales were pierced so easily by the bandit's sword. She continued to roar in pain as the sword was pulled out by the bandit. She wondered what kind of weapon he used to attack her, it was different from the others weapons, it wasn't...normal. Fran knew it would be late for her to turn and attack the bandit now, she saw him raising his sword from the corner of her eyes, intending to land the next blow. She immediately closed her eyes and prepared for it. But it never came, instead, she heard his shriek. Slowly, the dragon opened her eyes, she saw the man had a lance stabbed into his sword arm. His sword fell to the snow.
Fran looked at the sword, it was covered by her red blood and white snow. In her dragon form, Fran had less self-control, she was wilder than her human form. Her dragon instinct told her to quickly kill this man, who had been distracted by the red-haired girl. funny, she was trying to help her, but now their roles were reversed.
The man was going to kick Katelyn, but he stopped when he felt a cold breath on his back. He turned around, what waiting for him was a big mouth and sharp fangs. And everything turned black, no pain, no fear, he didn't even know what just happened.
Fran, after killed the bandit, changed back to her human form, she still kept her wings, though. The wound forced her to save her energy, it seemed that weapon had special effect on her. "Maybe it's a dragon killer weapon. I remember my dad warned me about this," the ice dragon muttered to herself as she looked at the red color on her waist. Fran then walked toward Katelyn, spreading her wings around them to protect them from arrows. "Thank you. You saved me," she said. "Are you alright?" Fran touched her shoulder.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 3, 2011 14:13:49 GMT -6
Clair smiled in satisfaction as the spear. She hoped he remembered that for a long time. Except, if she had her way, the Filth wouldn't be around to remember it in a few minutes. That was just the first step in-
"Guh!" Endellion's massive fist struck her on the side, sending her soaring through the air, before crashing to the rocks a few feet away. She tried to turn it into a roll to end up on her feet again, but he'd knocked the wind out of her and she ended up only making it to her knees, trying to recover. She must have hit her head when she fell, because her face was hurting, as she brushed a bit of snow from her eyes. Her side felt like Corona had kicked it. She'd have a bruise there for a while, assuming she made it. A small prick in her hip also reminded her of the tip of her slim lance, stowed away in a small bag tied to her belt.
No. I refuse to give up. I won't stop.
She looked past her fallen lance, a few feet away, and saw the man. Fighting him was like fighting a bigger Richter. He was quick, and ruthless in his attacks. The battle was taking its toll on her..., but it was taking a toll on him as well. His own injuries would be taking effect.
Refusing to respond her cautious side, Clair made a dive for her lance, grabbing it, and scampering at him yet again. Aiming from a distance, she shot her lance at the man's knee, aiming to take it out. It was a long shot. The lance would probably be knocked aside, but she was ready for that this time. She was going for the kill here, and was throwing in all the chips. People would say that she was unstoppable after this day.
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Katelyn
The "Before" years
[M:0]
Posts: 13
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Post by Katelyn on Jul 4, 2011 13:35:21 GMT -6
Lying in the snow face down, she snickered, "Hehheh." Though her body trembled, both from the fear as she heard the snow crunching below boots that closed towards her. She heard the rough voice, she couldn't tell what the words were, but it was telling her that she would die. She didn't need to look at the bandits face to know that he probably had a smug grin on his face.
She smelled somekind of new stench in the air, one that wasn't of blood and iron. The air got colder if it was even possible, strange wind, she wondered not even daring to raise her head, staring into the snow. There was a weird shutting sound, like someone just closed their jaw.
She didn't move though, until she heard a friendly voice asking her if she was alright. "I'm fine, heh.. I saved a dragon, that's somethin-.. You're the dragon?" She asked, looking towards the girl with the wings, it was rather obvious, but she had to ask the obvious question. Though as the words were out of her mouth, Equus nudged her in the back, making her turn so that she'd notice the fact that Clair was still fighting, though most of the fighting around them on the ridge had come to a close.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 4, 2011 20:28:52 GMT -6
Endellion grinned viciously as Clair's body went flying into the rock. Serves her damn right! All that acrobatic nonsense. Just a fly in the wind! They all are. Endellion was a firm believer that "useless, frail women" had their uses, but combat was not one of them. Pegasus knights were the worst. They acted like they were special, flying on their prissy mounts, but in the end all it took was a good punch to send them flying. Lightweights the damn lot of them!
The red haired beast plod over over to Clair, chuckling as she grabbed her head in pain. One punch, and she was reduced to this. Looks like she did all that jumping around for a f****** reason, but now she wasn't moving. He'd finish her off right n-
But no, Clair had the audacity too keep fighting. HA! To what end? He'd just slap her around again. But her persistence, while annoying, was to be commended. The Falcoknight, charging at Endellion, thrust her lance at the man's knee, only to have it deflected by an outward swing of his giant axe as the read haired giant, growling, then prepared to bring it right across her face. It wasn't the most creative strike, but it was at least different from his vertical chop, which he could see hadn't been working on Clair.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 5, 2011 9:32:18 GMT -6
Undeterred by her weapon being slapped aside, the Falcoknight did the unthinkable: she let it go. There was nothing left to think about. Her entire being was dedicated to killing the red-headed beast before her, whether with a lance, or another of the myriad options of destruction no longer mattered. She wasn't going to respond to doubt anymore. She was set to give the full one hundred percent.
The axe was still moving from the parry as she leapt forward, ripping the spear tip hanging in the pouch on her side out with enough force to cut the bag. It wasn't much of a replacement weapon, but suitably a sharp rock would have worked for this purpose.
Diving forward to avoid the incoming axe swing, Clair aimed for the gap between his legs. Someone as large as he was left plenty of room for the agile troop commander. As she passed under him, she selected a spot on the inside of the leg, the upper thigh, and jabbed it into his leg. It didn't penetrate very far, but as her movement stopped, just on the far side of him, she lifted a leg, and gave it a hard kick, shoving the spike deeper into the muscles and sinews of his thigh. Perhaps even severing the primary artery.
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Jul 5, 2011 11:21:54 GMT -6
Another superheated pillar burst from the ground and, again, Farlus leapt from it. This time, some of his cloak was caught aflame. The mage quickly stamped it out and wondered if he would be able to find a new cloak soon. The one he was wearing was covered in blood, most of it his own, and now it had been burned. He had little time, however, as he spotted two bright orange orbs swirling at him. It seemed the mage he was fighting was tired of masking the spell's approach, seeing as it wasn't actually working. The winded Farlus leapt from the elfire spell's destination again. He was growing more and more tired by the second and, to make matters worse, he began to feel a slight pain in his chest. He hoped it wasn't the medicine wearing off, but he was quite active since taking it. That much movement ought to shorten the effect's duration.
"If you don't mind..." Farlus called out to his opponent as he slowly stood, "Could we end this little game soon? I have a schedule to keep and you are not part of it." The white haired mage's cold and sarcastic words angered the bandit mage and he lifted his hand in the air. Farlus wasn't sure what the man was planning, but he figured it took a great deal of his concentration, seeing as he wasn't moving. The tactician put his brain to work on an impromptu spell, calling a diagram from his book to his mind. Constant study of the book he carried with him gave him quite a few to memorize. He replaced a few of the runes with others he knew of and then shifted the shape of the diagram as he tended to do. The spell was just about ready, all that was left was the phycial motions to channel it through.
Looking up at the mage facing him, he spied a very large ball of flame hovering over his raised hand.
"Well that's not good..." Farlus commented. Then it came to him. The perfect motion for the spell. The spell in question was cold and swift. He needed something equally cold and apathetic to properly channel it. The white haired mage held the diagram in his head, cycling the energy for the spell through it and then stood tall, feet pointed like a butler. A hand on his waist and the other stretched out at his enemy, he cast the spell. A flaming sphere of his own appeared around the mage's head.
The bandit mage squirmed and yelped, losing his concentration on his own spell. But Farlus wasn't finished. The tactician held his hand stiff, keeping the sphere on the man's head. He moved the spell to keep up with the mage's frenzied movements until the man stopped and his body went limp, falling forward to the ground. As his head passed out of the sphere, all that was left was a charred skull that shattered upon hitting the cold stone below.
A tired sigh left Farlus' lips as he disengaged the spell. He wondered how that swordsman was faring with his own target. Looking over, he found him laying dead with blood trailing from his forehead. A wicked smile crept onto Farlus' visage and he turned to ponder how to rid the group of the archers atop the cliff.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 5, 2011 19:23:08 GMT -6
"GRAAAAAAAAAHH!" roared Endellion, bellowing like a wounded lion as the spear head burrowed itself in his leg, the force Clair's kick only multiplying the pain. "You little b****!" The Falcoknight had kicked the sharp weapon point far deep into his leg. He could feel the sharp blade scraping his leg bone as he moved it recoil, trying to get his injured limb away from his assailant. It hurt like all hell, but it wasn't the worst wound he had experienced. He wouldn't let a spear point stop him. This was not the end for the great Endellion Agnimitra! Great men shuddered at his name. He would not be stopped from killing this girl! This damn pegasus rider!
Howling, the great red haired demon man stepped back and, with the force of a powerful gale, swung his fists down at the grounded Clair like hammers pounding steel. He only saw red at this point. He would crush her! He would crush her if it was the last f****** thing he'd do! Her bones would crack and crumble under his great strength! St. Elimine wills it!
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Jul 5, 2011 23:08:43 GMT -6
Garith was relieved to see that the fighting had seemed to be dying down a bit and in their favor. He then watched as a bandit caring a large axe came charging at him ready to swing. Garith didn't move he stayed in his position he was too tired to move even if he had tried anything the bandit would probably over power him. As the bandit came closer Garith slowly stood up and got into a battle stance. Garith braced himself as the bandit came into striking range. When the axe came at him, Garith hesitated to do anything his body felt like just standing there and taking the hit. But Garith had things to do he wasn’t going to die today. He blocked the bandits attack and rushed toward the man. The bandit hit Garith in the face with the end of the pole of his axe. The blue haired mercenary staggered back but quickly regained his balanced and swung at the bandit with all his might. The bandit easily blocked the attack and swung his axe at Garith slicing his side. Garith let out a small groan of pain as he dropped to one knee. The only thing that went through his head was the thought of him dying. He didn’t want to die here he had too much to do but he was getting weak. Garith was then shocked to see some of Richter’s men come to his aid and take out the bandit that was about to kill him.
“Hey kid you alright?” One of the men asked as the others dealt with the bandit. This was the same man that had asked Garith about his large broadsword. He didn’t say anything at first he did though grabbed a hold of the man’s hand when he extended it to him.
“Yeah I’ll be ok thanks for the assistance,” Garith said as he wiped some snow off of himself. He was actually extremely happy to see that man again and even happier that he wouldn’t be dead.
“Can you still fight?” The man asked. Yeah Garith could still fight did he want to? No. He wanted this to end but by the looks of the battles going on around him it would end soon.
“Yeah where are you headed?” Garith asked curiously.
“We're heading to the back there's an ambush going on and they'll need our help,” The man answered as he started to run off signaling Garith to follow with a hand gesture. Garith, still in pain, slowly followed after the three men who had came to his rescue.
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Fran
The "Before" years
[M:0]
"I am so excited."
Posts: 66
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Post by Fran on Jul 6, 2011 7:11:17 GMT -6
"I am." Fran smiled. It seemed this girl was kinda surprised to know that the pink haired girl in front of her was a dragon, Fran could understand her reaction, most humans never saw dragons. "That was close, I was careless." Fran couldn't tell Katelyn that she was distracted because of her, and Fran wouldn't blame her either, it wasn't even her fault anyway. Clutching her wound, Fran looked around, she was breathing heavily. She wasn't sure about it for now, but that sword probably had some special poison to kill her kinds.
Fran, like Katelyn, also noticed the fighting between Clair and Endellion. The fight was entertaining, they were fearsome warriors indeed. But now, with herself injured and probably poisoned, she didn't have any interest to watch the fighting. "Can you stand?" she asked Katelyn.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 7, 2011 8:21:54 GMT -6
The. Falcoknight didn't bother with fighting the dark grin of pleasure that covered her face at the man's anguished howl. This man had made Clair's whole job up hear difficult. He'd injured Corona. He'd sliced one of her new recruits, and a pegasus cleanly in half right before her eyes. She wasn't going to feel pity for this vermin raider.
As Endellion's fists fell for her, his body looming larger and larger, Clair reacted. Quickly drawing her knees up to her chest, Clair threw her muscles into action, launching both her legs skyward while standing on her shoulders, and aiming a double kick at the approaching axman's face as he leaned into his strike.
The blow connected. A solid hit. The girl felt and heard cartilige snapping and breaking on the man's face. A bit of blood splashed down onto her, as she squinted up at him. Breaking faces wasn't the only thing that Clair felt though. The force of his attack, as he drove in at her was intense. She felt her knees almost hyper extending from the impact, and gritted her teeth, a cry of sharp pain trying to work its way out.
The two separated, the Falcoknight trying to climb back to her feet while on stressed, shaky legs, the red haired beast clutching at a battered, and bloody face, broken in by the riding heels on Clair's boots. Blood leaked throughout Endellion's vision, covering his view of the cliff, as he roared in pain and fury. Clair, meanwhile managed to limp over anad collect her killer lance again.
"You F****** little B****! Just wait there! I'm going to come over there and rip you apart and send you to visit your da**** stupid pegasus!"
As he came at her again, part of Clair just wanted to give up. He was wearing her down. The part of her mind that held the dominance though only saw the most likely locations to hit him. The injury in his leg slowed him considerably, but his arms were still quick. The blood gushing into his vision limited it, but did not blind him.
As he approached, she jabbed at him, only to have him slap the lance aside with his hands and make a lunge for her with his bare hands. She managed to hop back out of range before he could get to her, otherwise he probably would have made good on his promise.
"Stop playin games, little girl!"
Clair only laughed briefly at him before continuing the game, repeating her quick attacks until she got too near to the cliff to continue back any further. There was a moment's pause where both stopped Endellion sneering in victory. Clair didn't give him a chance to speak though.
"If you've got any long term plans, cancel them."
And with that, she drove her lance in again, moving it in a complex pattern unlike the quick thrusts she'd been giving him. As his hand came up to knock the weapon aside again, she dance her spear around it, nicking the front of his throat with the jagged blade before bringing it down, and jabbing it between his ribs with all the remaining strength she could muster.
They stood there like that for a moment, until Clair pulled her weapon loose, twisting it as she did so for spite. A look of utter disgust and loathing covered her bloodied and battered face, but she was alive, and the bandit scum would bleed out soon, if his injuries didn't kill him first.
Endellion stood for a moment. He didn't look like he could even breathe properly as he took a halting step forward, then another, and then fell to the ground, and slipped off the cliffside.
The Falcoknight, using her lance as a walking stick by necesity now, limped forward. Endellion had fallen a long way, leaving a few bloodstains on the way down, before crashing to the bottom of what looked to be a very deep, very narrow crevice in the cliffside. Clair eased back from the cliff and just sat down for a bit, resting for bit as she applied some of her vulnerary to her face, and her side where the brute had punched her towards the beginning of the fight.
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Post by Valcrist on Jul 7, 2011 12:32:51 GMT -6
"Oh god." His body fought and struggled as he forced his self to his feet, his muscles screaming about how stupid he was. Sometimes it was worse to take a little rest then to take no rest at all, it just made him want more like a glutton. His blade, good for slicing and maiming, also proved it's worth as a walking stick as he used it to push his self back to his feet. Those flashes of fire, and their sudden stopping implied that the white haired man was done with his opponent. Good for him, if only because having one less mage blasting great balls of fire was a boon for everyone.
His muscles ached as the adrenaline that was filling his veins before was slowly being shut off. The relative calmness they were facing was almost slightly eerie but no less appreciated. The bandits were losing, though the Pink haired man seemed to have taken more then a few deaths his self. Speaking of which... where did he go? It wasn't hard to pick a man like that out of a crowd, even a crowd of rowdy and crazy men swinging around weapons with a deadly intent. The pink haired man was tall, covered in red armor and had a distinct hair color and had quite a bit of hair to go along with it. Making him and Val kindred "Too much hair for a dude" spirits.
Still, even if it was winding down it was by no means done. He gripped his blade with both hands once again, casting a weary gaze across the blood painted snow. He moved, once again, pacing his self. Going as fast as he did trying to take out that mage earlier, it made his legs ache. It was necessary, but painful, then again that's all battle was at times. Pain. Still, he was no stranger to pain, the abstract feeling that your body screamed when it wanted to stop doing something.
He thought of heading towards the mage he was working with earlier, but that probably wouldn't have been the best idea. Valcrist was just some random blacksmith who got sucked into the battle, not a soldier or a whatever. He wouldn't understand anything the man shouted at him, and Val wasn't particularly in the mood to be shouted at.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Jul 9, 2011 0:12:07 GMT -6
Leontius trudged at the head of his caravan, his pace was steady and his hand was on his blade. His body showed no signs of fatigue or weakness as the snow fell in loads and the wind cut to the bone. Despite the inclement weather, the sun shown brightly down upon them, giving an immensely contradictory feel to the savage weather. Leon's eye searched the skies for any sign of Clarissa, his pegasus knight. He'd sent the graceful warrior ahead to scout a path for them. In Illia you could never be too trusting of your surroundings. Bandits lurked behind every mountain and within every snowtipped forest.
Wiping the snow from his face, Leon spied a notable dot among the many flakes of snow. It must have been Clarissa. Leon couldn't make out the wings of a pegasi or the flirty girl's teal armor, but he'd watched her return from scouting so many times that he had gained an eye for these sorts of things. Sure enough, the dot became larger and larger and eventually a bothered Ilian woman atop a snow white man came into view. Leon exhaled in frustration. Judging by her facial expression she'd probably spotted bandits, or some other brutish rabble, on the route they'd planned to use. Damn, now they'd have to consult the map and take the long way. Leon shook his head, frustrated more then anything. "Bandits?" He asked, as Clarissa landed and began to dismount her pegasi.
The young Ilian glanced at Jim as he sneaked her a wink. She blushed and a faint smile planted itself on her lips. "Clarissa!" Leon barked. She broke out of her state of infatuation and her eyes flashed back to meet her commander's intimidating glare. She shook her head "There's more then that commander!" She exclaimed, lifting her arm in the direction of the south. "There's a battle, just over that mountain. A massive force of brigands has engaged what appears to be an army of Ilians! Sir, I believe it's Abend's forces." She gasped. Leon's eye widened in shock. Damnit, considering the destination of the two forces, it wouldn't be unlikely that the army Clarissa had spoken of was indeed Richter's force. Leon would have preferred to have avoided fighting until he was in Bern. It would be all too unfair of fate to cost him any of his soldier before the real fighting began. But, it appeared that that might happen. Leon pinched the bridge of his nose, worried and agitated. With a heavy sigh, he turned around to face his caravan. His arms dangled at his sides and his face was glum. "Well, if we want to keep our contract we better double time it." Leon faced forward once more, waving out an outstretched hand. "Move it, Stubborn hounds!" With that the caravan began moving with a renewed speed. (Also known as what some may call a time skip.)
The roar of battle and the smell of smoke made itself ever more manifest as the mercenaries ascended a frozen mountain. Leon's breathing increased as the slanted landscape forced his legs to work ever harder. Beads of sweat began to form beneath his hair. This was the one thing Leon hated about Ilia. He really didn't mind the cold, what he did mind was the mixture of warmth and cold brought on by marching in the blasted wintry landscape. It was so... contradictory. Leon wiped his brow as the group made it to a level section of the mountain. From there, they had a distant view of the battlefield. It was carnage. Fires were everywhere, ant-sized bodies lay in tiny pools of blood, pegasi, which appeared no larger then birds, circled itty bitty warriors. It was a bloody battle indeed and from where they were standing, there was no telling who was winning. Not that that mattered, Leon planned on joining the fight all the same.
"Gate, watch over the wagon with Variann, Clarissa, and Addison." The one-eyed Ilian ordered. He then faced Alecros and the other mercenaries who weren't ordered to remain at Gate's side. "Everyone else, come with me, we need to get a closer look of this mess." Leon paused for a moment, his eye was transfixed on the axe-wielding Alecros. He approached him and let his left hand fell upon his shoulder. "Time to prove your worth, pirate." He said, a bit of skepticism in his voice. He stared down the mountain path, breathing in and out, taking time to relish the calm before the storm. His right hand was on his the concealed handle of his blade. His hair waved to the right as the winds howled down on him. He blinked once and cooly stated the words. "Move out."
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 9, 2011 10:42:10 GMT -6
"This isn't...!" thought Endellion as he plummeted to his death, wind rushing past his head and and blood spitting from the hole in his chest. He couldn't die. Not like this. Not like this! Not against this dammned pegasus rider! NOT LIKE THIS! He was the great Endellion! The red haired demon! MEN QUAKED IN FEAR AT HIS NAME!"Not...no! St. Elimine! I...served..."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-!"
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The darkness swirled around Richter, his senses dulled and obscured. It was murky. He couldn't see a thing. It was intangible. He expected to feel pain, but he couldn't. There was no pain. He couldn't feel his body. He couldn't feel a thing. It was quiet. Much more quiet than a battlefield should have been, but it wasn't silent. The commander could hear something...or someone. It sounded like a faint whisper upon the horizon. Was he dead? Was this some sort of afterlife? He couldn't tell. He didn't feel alive or dead, though, perhaps not feeling was how it felt to be dead. Richter had never been dead before.
The noise grew louder. It grew into murmurs. Men speaking. One to his right, and one to his left. Their voices were rough and unrefined. Crass, growling, and bestial. He could feel their coarse, rough grip on his arms, and a cold wetness cutting into his legs. The snow. The rock. He was being dragged through the icy tundra. He could feel the ice and stones biting into his legs. How long? Where were they? How far had they gone? Richter couldn't yet tell. His vision was still fogged and blurred, but even then, with his vision Richter probably wouldn't be able to answer any of it.
The men stopped walking, and Richter was dropped face first into the snow. He tried to protest his fall; tried to lift himself up, but his body wasn't listening. A small pain began to well up in the commander's side. So he wasn't dead. But the battle! How had it gone? Was it still going? His men. Did they still fight on? Had the bandits won? Was Clair alright? Who had taken up his position?
He tried to speak, but all that came out of the pink haired man's mouth was intelligible gurgling and groaning. His side shattered and frame battered, Richter's body hadn't taken the battle well. That huge titan of a man. He had killed him, but not without price. If his wounds hadn't killed him yet, they would soon without treatment. Did these men know this? Were they saving him, or were they taking him to a needless execution.
He felt pain, still there but far more dull than before, shoot through his side as he was lifted into the air an tossed onto hard, cold wood. A damp, musky smell met Richter's nose, and just as his eyes began to clear, the light was taken away, leaving him once again, shrouded in darkness. Real darkness. Then, breaking the momentary stillness and silence Richter's world began to shake as he was tossed into a hard wooden wall. Wherever he was, it was moving.
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