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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Oct 22, 2011 0:54:08 GMT -6
As the battle continued Garith had only taken down two men while his father five. The assassin definitely had more skills and experience while the mercenary was struggling against a soldier with a sword and lance. Garith really, really hated lances they always had it easier fighting a man with a sword. They had also noticed that more men had poured into the the room making their odds of survival even slimmer.
"How are you holding up old man!?" Garith questioned shouting across the room as he blocked the soldier with the sword's strike and the two the began to struggle trying to push the other back.
"Old!?"Cryger questioned back as he knocked one man back with the bottom of his boot. "The better question is how are you doing I can handle myself!"He shouted back as he charged at one man with a ax. The soldier charged at Cryger full force and swung his giant ax at the assassin. Cryger laughed and dodged the slow moving ax and went in with one of his daggers. As the tip of the large dagger was about to enter the soldier's chest Cryger quickly jumped out of the way of an incoming lance.
"Tch I can take on these guys they aren't so tough!" Garith shouted back as a lance skinned the side of his face as he tried to dodge it. He then used all of his strength to push back the soldier with the sword that he had been struggling with. Garith then looked to the side of him and saw a table and decided to flip it at the two men in front of him. The one with the lance jumped out of the way but the other was hit and knocked into a few other men.
As Cryger quickly rushed the man with the lance not giving him much time to react. He quickly stabbed the man with his right dagger and then jumped back only to have to block an incoming attack. He pushed his attacker back and then jumped back near Garith.
"Great bonding time eh?Cryger said laughing a bit as he blocked a attack with one dagger and lunged the other at a soldier piercing him in the side as he came too close for comfort.
"The best!" Garith growled as he swung Uprising at a soldier and the man blocked it with his lance and then jabbed the tip of his weapon at Garith who dodged by sidestepping out of the way. The father and son then came closer together as the men began to circle around them.
All that could be heard was clashing of blades on the sounds of skin being sliced or stabbed. They were outnumbered and things looked very grim. Garith had got stabbed in the side by a lance and a slice across the chest from another with a sword. Still about nine men left. Cryger had taken down two with quick and skill stabs to the skull and a few others with quick and precise slices and stabs to the vital organs. Garith on the other hand had only taken down one man by catching him off guard while he was distracted with Cryger.
"Man this isn't going to end pretty is it?" Garith asked looking back to his father. The two were now back to back and blocking attacks that came at them the best they could.
"I love you optimism son but this is definitely not going to end well and we'll have to wrap this up quick,"Cryger said his voice sounding serious for once. The two blue haired men the charged at the group of men that had circled around them knowing they would probably not make it out not badly damaged.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 23, 2011 18:25:04 GMT -6
The Falcoknight wasn't expecting him to fall over when she pushed him, to be honest, but that really wasn't an issue for her. Less of an issue if he turned out to be trouble. She watched as he reached for his lance, but held back from actually striking out. She'd just let the archer shoot him if he was trouble.
The story was told. Derick said he was a Bernese Deserter now. On the run from killing his officer. She took the plate he passed to her, and saw that the name and rank were at least true. Much of his tale was still unclear, but unless he the whole thing was a lie, she could probably count on his support in the battle. The Bernese here certainly didn't seem to like him, even if he wasn't really who he said he was.
Bernese here.... This was troubling news. The rebellion in Bern was truly kicking things up a notch to be sending equipped soldiers into the Illian frontier. This group must have made it past the mountain pass patrols. That, ot tracked into the deep wilds before coming out here. Either meant trouble for her icy homeland... But this... to kill the villagers.
Clair's anger grew to match her horror at the thought. These soldiers were behaving no differently that a band of murderous brigands, and there could only be one response for that in the Falcoknight's mind.
"Get him back on his feet." She told the healer once he entered.
"Derick, we'll have more words after this fight is over. For now though, you're still under my command." She turned away, thinking on what could be done.
There can't be too many soldiers here. They couldn't keep themselves fed through the wilds with high numbers, so they must be few enough to be able to sustain themselves. Even so, the enemy archers in the second floor of their impromptu fortress made the last stretch to the building plenty dangerous. She wasn't about to continue letting her soldiers throw themselves at that place.
Richter had taught her to relax. To learn to anticipate her opponent, and to move on instinct. She'd learned this, but it wasn't enough in this situation. She wanted to change the rules, to keep her troops alive, while killing the enemy. The best way to do this was to change the battlefield. A sinister smile worked its way onto her face as she started looking around the house for materials.
"Tell me Derick. What is the quickest way to clear a large wooden building of people?" The houses nearest the enemy building appeared to have been ransacked of useful things already, but the Falcoknight did manage to find an old rag which she started to shake out.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Oct 23, 2011 18:58:12 GMT -6
"Derick, we'll have more words after this fight is over. For now though, you're still under my command."
"Yes ma'am, of course," it was the best Derick could hope for, hopefully, he could either get his combat reflex under control, or at least prove himself useful enough so that the risks of keeping him were worth the rewards...he would worry about that later.
"Get him back on his feet." She told the healer once he entered.
The healer appraised him with a watchful eye as he readied his staff. Derick heard him begin praying under his breath. After a moment, the staff glowed, and the healer touched it to his shoulder. Derick felt a warm pleasant feeling fill his body, and his wounds began closing. The healer lifted the staff and halted a moment before his prayers began again and he touched the staff to Derick's thigh. The warm feeling returned, only this time Derick felt the muscles in his legs knitting back together. As the healer finished up, Derick nodded his thanks, and then promptly threw up on the wooden floor. The healer smirked, "you've never been healed by a staff, have you?" Derick glared at the healer and shook his head before retching again. "First timers almost always vomit, your body should be adjusted to it next time." Derick nodded his thanks and stood up unsteadily.
"Tell me Derick. What is the quickest way to clear a large wooden building of people?" Derick stared at Clair as she picked up a rag and started shaking it out. His combat reflex roared to life, he really, really, hoped he was thinking what she was thinking. Once he caught Clair's smile, he found the same expression was filling his face. "I've got a few ideas." He began searching the room as well, he rummaged through a cupboard full of empty jars and dusty looking dishes. He was about to give up on it when he picked up an unexpectedly heavy jar. Momentarily confounded, he pulled the jar and examined the contents. Lantern oil. He smiled with pure malice, "Commander, I think it's about time we light a fire...s-so we can k-keep warm."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 24, 2011 17:33:05 GMT -6
"Keep warm.... Hmm...." Clair smiled, at the thought of burning out the Bernese, but it was still tinged with a bit of sadness. This was one of her land's buildings they were firing after all. That wouldn't stop her though.
Resting a hand on the leg of an overturned table, and began pushing and pulling on it. The wood creaked and groaned as she levered into it, before it finally was wrenched free. She started tearing the cloth she'd found into strips, handing the table leg, and one strip to Derick. He'd made a good find with the oil "Here. You work on this. Make sure not to spill the oil."
"Buildings can be rebuilt once people return here.... The fire will help us now though. Once their building is burning good, Do whatever you can to stall them from reaching more cover. Our archers can pick them off as they try to escape the fire." Of course, they'd still have to look out for being shot themselves....
By now, she'd wrapped a couple of arrow from the archer, and soaked them up. They had the oil. They had the tools. They just needed fire.
"Commander? I thought it a good idea to always carry one. The archer smiled as he spoke up, holding up a set of flint and tinder.
"That's perfect. Get a fire started."
Within moments, this stroke of fortune was ready to be triggered. Only two people would be approaching to start it off, but Clair had faith that the rest of the soldiers would figure it out quickly enough.
"Ok. One of us needs to take the torch, and the other can smash the rest of the oil on the house to be lit by a flaming arrow." Her eyes finished the sentence for her. Take your pick, Derick.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Oct 24, 2011 19:53:58 GMT -6
Derick locked eyes with the Falcoknight as she listed their tasks. Wordlessly, they communicated and Derick hesitated for a second. Finally, he reached for the torch, Derick felt like he was hogging all the fun, but his combat reflex was in full flow, he wasn't exactly in the proper state for background work. He crossed the room and picked up his lance with his spear hand as he cradled the homemade torch in his right. "I'll s-start lighting d-doorways and rugs...H-hopefully, the others will catch on and form a perimeter around the main b-building." His adrenaline-soaked muscles were shaking, and while his voice stuttered, his tone was controlled, gleeful even. He saluted Clair and the archer and made for the door. As he stepped through the doorway, his eyes seemed unfocused and hard, his mouth seemed to move of its own accord. "I'll r-relish their scr...screams." The door slammed behind him.
The battle was going well, from what Derick could tell. They were still a few duels in the streets, but the combat seemed to have migrated into the large complex in front of Derick, probably the town hall. He walked towards a small side entrance, and kicked the door open. There was no one, perfect. Derick could hear the sounds of combat ringing from the halls within as he set the torch to the dry lumber walls. Laughter escaped his lips as he worked, when he was finished, both sides of the hall were steadily transforming into walls of fire, and the stately rug also proved to be quite flammable. His glazed eyes admired his handiwork, and then he moved on.
The second entrance was about the same size as the first, and was also deserted Derick gave it the same treatment, setting a small shrub by the door on fire for good measure. The greatest challenge would be the main entryway. Derick moved slowly, his eyes fixated on his goal as he did the best to conceal the torch. Miraculously, no one was there when he finally approached the entryway. He worked quickly, doing the best job yet, he had managed to set the timber ceilings on fire as well. As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, his ears detected footsteps, coming hard and fast. Derick didn't move, he wanted to see how this would develop. Whoever was coming was shouting..."Bernese! Fire! There's a--" that wouldn't do at all.
The shouting halted as the soldier spotted Derick, Derick could almost imagine the soldier behind him putting two and two together as his eyes traveled between the smoke and the torch held loosely in Derick's hand. With a scream of rage, Derick heard the footsteps again. The soldier was coming at him, hard and fast. Derick closed his eyes, and blood thrummed through his ears as he concentrated. At the last moment, Derick threw himself to the right and rolled, landing on his knees. He had lost the soldier, who stumbled into the entryway while trying to halt himself. Derick seized the opportunity and darted towards the soldier, extending his lance towards the soldier's torso. He got lucky, the soldier turned bemusedly to try to spot Derick, and forgot to bring his shield up. With a metallic *plunk* Derick's lance buried itself in the soldier's chest.
The soldier wasn't going down without a fight, he lunged backward, ripping the lance out of his chest and bringing his own to bear. Derick relaxed, he was well out of the soldier's range. That's when the lance tore through his side. His knees buckled and he collapsed, the soldier had been wielding a javelin. With no time to retrieve his weapon, the soldier charged Derick, Derick didn't have time to ready his lance or find his feet, and he was tackled to the ground. The two rolled through the snow, the soldier was battling fiercely for supremacy, but Derick was no longer a man, he fought like a beast. The soldier's fist caught Derick's chin, and stars flashed before Derick's clouded eyes. The soldier wound up for another punch, but Derick snarled, and his teeth flashed as they plunged into the soldier's neck. The soldier let out a gargling scream, and his grip on Derick loosened significantly.
Derick felt the tide turn, and he brought his forehead crashing into the soldier's face. There was a sharp crack, and blood pooled on the soldier's face through his destroyed nose. Derick pushed off of him and made his way back to his lance. Surprisingly, the torch had remained lit, the fire still propped up out of the snow.
A terrifying grin stole its way across Derick's face, he picked the torch up and walked over to the soldier. He straddled the soldier's chest, slapping him until the soldier awakened and stared blearily into Derick's face. Recognition passed through his eyes, and he glared up at Derick. "You...Y-...y-you're the trai...the trait...the...tr--" "The traitor" Derick finished for him in a flat tone. The torch left a trail of light in the air as Derick stabbed it into the soldier's face. The soldier screamed and started flailing, but Derick held the torch steady, struggling to keep the soldier still. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled Derick's nostrils, and his eyes were flat as he stood up from the body and walked away from the building which was billowing more and more smoke.
He had settled a safe distance away from the blazing compound when unconsciousness stole over him.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 28, 2011 10:29:34 GMT -6
Clair frowned at the salute. Any officers detected during a battle tended to become targets. Not that she wouldn't end up one anyway. She hardly blended in with any of her soldiers. Regardless, her attention quickly moved on to Derick's unusual behavior. He seemed to change from being in control, to barely sane. Such a bloodlust was unnerving to witness for herself. It made her question the wisdom of trusting him after all, but it also reminded her of Richter in a way. The pink-haired Commander had always been such a furious force on the battlefield. If he had lost control, perhaps he would have looked similar to this.
Back to the present. It was time for action now. Whatever else was on her mind would have to wait. She grabbed the jar of lantern oil. What remained of it would have to be enough to be of use. Preferably, she'd hit somewhere that wasn't covered in snow. She turned back to the archer as she steeled herself to head back out.
"Make sure you're ready with those arrows. Shoot any Bernese that come into your line of sight." A quick nod of affirmation from the archer was the only delay left for Clair. With that done, she pushed open the door and ran outside, making a beeline for the garrisoned building.
Unlike the path that Derick found, the Falcoknight was going straight up the front. All the best places to shatter a jar of oil seemed to be right out front. It was also the easiest location for an allied archer to land a flaming arrow. So, straight up the middle it was. She could practically feel Bernese archers from the second floor of the building lining up their shots at her as she ran forward the short distance. Several shots were near misses, only the few allied archers managing to disrupt a perfect shot on her as she made it behind cover closer to the building.
Clair spotted where she wanted to land the oil. It was a patch of outer wall on the second story. With Derick starting fires at ground level, she wanted to give the Bernese on the second floor something a little more immediate to think about.
With a hook movement, the Falcoknight slung the jar up and around, releasing it on target. Then a pain like a lightning bolt hit her arm, and she gave a pained yelp. When she'd jerked her arm back down, she found it bringing some extra baggage with it. An arrow had passed through most of her right arm before stopping, lodged halfway through her forearm. She groaned a bit as she inspected it, for a moment. It hurt, but it wouldn't prove to be a deadly injury. She'd just have to take the right arm easy for awhile. Assuming she could get away without being stuck full of holes. Then the arm wouldn't matter much.
She looked up in time to see a fire arcing past her, and heard the oil on the side of the building catch with satisfying results. Those left in the building started shouting in alarm and stumbling over themselves to get out. Arrows from the enemy soldiers stopped, while her own archers intensified their own shots. While all this was going on, the grounded Falcoknight positioned her arm to be able to step on the back of the arrow, before grabbing the point, and lifting it sharply. The fletching snapped off, and Clair gritted her teeth as she quickly jerked what remained the arrow straight out of her arm. She growned a bit, casting it aside, and stood up in time to see the roof catch fire. It was burning good now. And the fight itself was being mopped up. Grabbing the healer, Clair started making rounds, looking for the injured.
"You sleep on the battle field often?" Clair spoke outloud as the two stumbled on Derick, someplace out of the way from the main building. He was injured. Yet again. She turned to the healer following her as they moved through the dying battlefield.
"Get him back on his feet."
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Oct 28, 2011 20:04:20 GMT -6
Five more men left and it looks as if Garith was going to drop his sword. The young man was covered in slash and stab marks it was ridiculous. Cryger was honestly just getting tired of all the men that he had to kill just to get out of here. He hoped that this Richter guy was really worth it because he wasn't going to lose a son because of this man.
"Come on let's end this!" Garith roared as two men with lances both jabbed at him. Garith was then stabbed in the stomach and the rammed up against a wall while two men with swords came at Cryger.
"Garith!"Cryger shouted as he watched his son get rammed up against the wall. He had enough and he was going to end this now. The two men that had charged at them were easy. The assassin quickly jumped over the two men tossing two small knives with rather long blades and very short hilts at the back of their heads killing them. When he landed there was a large man with an ax coming at him.
Cryger blocked one attack with one of his daggers and then lunged his other one at the man's chest only to get it blocked by the man's dagger. The assassin was honestly surprised that the man was using his ax one handed but it wouldn't matter. He jumped back and then charged at the man again. This time the soldier had swung his ax with both hands at Cryger aiming for his legs. The blue haired man jumped onto the flat side of the ax as it came at his legs. He then ran up the rather long pull ax and plunged one of his daggers right into the man's face as he jumped over him and landed right behind him.
"Three down and two more to go,"Cryger said as he pulled his dagger out of the soldier's face a spun it getting the blood and brains off of it. He then charged at the two men who had Garith pinned up against the wall.
"Let's finish this trash!"One soldier said totally unaware that Cryger was going to plunge daggers into their backs.
"Time for you to di.......crap...,"The other soldier said as he was interrupted by Cryger's dagger going through his back. As the two men dropped to the ground from being killed by the assassin, he then spun his daggers around and then put them into their hilts and then ran up to Garith who still had a lance in him.
"I could have taken them," He said as Cryger pulled the lance out of him and Garith then coughed up a little blood. Cryger smiled at his son's comment, he reminded him of himself so much.
"Sure you could have kid now let's get you out of here,"Cryger said as he threw Garith's left arm over his shoulder and carried the young man out of the building. The two were covered in blood, their owns and others. They both were badly damaged but Garith more that Cryger.
Cryger stumbled out of the building almost dropping Garith. When he had looked at his son Garith's eyes were closed but he wasn't knocked out he was just resting. Tough kid, Cryger was honestly surprised how much he had grown. It didn't take them very long to find Commander Feldsky.
"Hey!"Cryger shouted as he walked up to her and the gently placed Garith down. "He needs a healer now,"The assassin said to Clair as he then looked around. "What seems to be the situation?"He asked hoping he could help
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Oct 29, 2011 11:12:12 GMT -6
"You sleep on the battle field often?"
The words penetrated Derick's murky mind as he slowly awakened. He had passed out. Again. Derick struggled to rise, his torso was blazing with pain, and a migraine was beginning to set in as well. His body felt exhausted, he had overexerted himself with a combination of injury and action. He stared down at the hole in his torso. His headache magnified, and he groaned in pain as the memories of his latest action in this skirmish raced back into his head. I burned a man alive? Derick felt a sickening mixture of horror and elation as the memory became more clear. He had passed out again...There had to be a way to control his rage...but he would drop the matter for now.
"Eager to see if you would throw up this time?" The healer had a resigned smirk on his face as he readied his staff. Derick couldn't help to feel a little ashamed, he had never expected to be so...vulnerable. His torso burned, and he felt bile rising in his throat again. The healer was right, however, Derick was able to keep it down this time. "There you go, good as new...again." The healer had an I-told-you-so smile on, and he reached out to help Derick help when a new group joined the party.
It was Cryger, carrying Garith's body. "No..." Derick whispered under his breath. "Hey! He needs a healer now," Cryger set Garith down next to Derick as he spoke to Commander Feldsky. Derick looked over at Garith, who was now laying beside him. He had cuts covering much of his skin, but Derick's eyes were drawn to the spear wound that was very similar to the one Derick had just gotten healed. Derick let out the breath he held been holding as he noted Garith was still breathing, and he couldn't help grinning sheepishly as he asked Garith, "You too, huh?"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 30, 2011 15:46:57 GMT -6
The healer set to work on Derick, and it wasn't long before he was fixed up for the most part. Repeated healings could be rough on bodies, and the ghosts of injuries remained for awhile after the repairs. The body took time to fully recover from pain senses, and the idea that it was injured, but they'd all be in much worse positions without the staff users.
Garith was healed when other soldiers showed up. Cryger was carrying an injured Garith. The blue-haired boy had nearly the same injury as Derick. They both shared a reckless spirit which overmatched their talents.... It wouldn't surprise her if it got them killed someday, but for now it was her job to keep that from happening. Or, at least keep them from dying senselessly. So far, she'd not had much chance to act as more than a fellow fighter on the field.
The Falcoknight getured for the healer to get to work on Garith before she turned back to the man addressing her, and the other soldiers gathering. Enough were absent though to be noticed. David was one.... They'd been knocked down from over twenty soldiers to the high teens now. All because of an ambush that should have never happened.
"The skirmish is over. We won; the Bernese lost. That's it for now. Healers, and those with medical experience should work on patching up our injured. The rest of you should partner up, and comb through the town for whatever you can carry out with you. Blankets, coal, medicine, weapons. Afterwards, find a building to bed down in for the night. You've all done well."
She flinched a bit as her arm remembered it had a hole through it. She was coming down off the adrenaline enough for pain to be demanding her attention.
"Let me mend that arm for you Commander.... Just try not to catch your arrow next time, eh?" It was the healer, following a few steps after her as she turned away. She'd planned on using up her vulnerary on it, rather than depleting more staf uses, but he was probably right. It would be best to take the shortcut for this injury and just plan on stockpiling more supplies as soon as they could.
"I'll be flying a patrol of the area as soon as I'm able. Let the others know if any concerns come up." She told him as she flexed the newly healed arm. It still felt like there should be a hole in her arm, to be honest....
She did find David in the snow. He was dead after all. She felt her heart sink at the sight of the man laying in red on white. He'd had a quality about him that made her want to smile, even in a war march. No longer. She stooped down and made sure his eyes were closed, as though he were asleep, before rifling through his pockets for anything like a last will. Nothing substantial presented itself
A timid nudge on her back had Clair turned around to find the pegasus there. It's ears perked for signs of any danger or alarm. It looked calm enough to ride though. Leaving the body, Clair slung herself up onto the mount, and kicked it off, into the air. Things would be clearer from the air, like weather this was all a waste of time.
She circled for a time without coming to any conclusions when she realized they were bearing towards something. It was a darkened blotch on the snow for now, but they were getting closer to it. It looked like it... was that a wyvern?
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Post by Cefia on Oct 30, 2011 17:05:28 GMT -6
Cefia awoke with a serious head ache and a freezing body. She groaned with a start, spitting out some blood and...flesh? Ugh, she actually hoped it was her blood. Holding her head, she tried to move her body, only to roll off the side. She panicked but luckily the snow was soft enough. Wait. Snow? Why was there snow in the Western Isles? That was when Cefia fully opened her eyes.
It was white. It was very white. This was Illia, definitely the freezing place known as Illia. She coughed, spitting out more blood, this time she swore it was her own. With the little strength she could muster, she pushed herself up enough so that she could lean against whatever she woke up on. It felt like she had a few broken bones, with her luck now, she probably did have some. This was not the time to panic, she had to be logical! What was the last things she remember? She was...making grub for the crew! With that thought, her stomach started to rumble. So she was lost, injured, and hungry.
There didn't appear to be any food on her. Cefia looked around to find some form of nourishment but it didn't take long for her to find out she crashed from a wyvern. Where there was a wyvern there should be a rider. Trudging around the frozen land, she found the body and some supplies. The dead man had very little supplies as if he didn't plan to stay here for long. She took out a little tinder box and a small knife.
She began to make the fire under the dead wyvern's wing. It worked fair enough and she had enough to begin cooking the meat. She always wondered what a wyvern tasted like. She cut into the creature's flesh and managed to take out a nice portion of it. The rider also had nice broken lance for her to use for roasting the meat. While she waited for the meat to cook, she looked around for perhaps some other food. It appeared she had no luck but within the dead man's supplies, there appeared to be some military rations but it could hardly be considered a meal. What she could make out of the little food was flavoring. After dabbing each of them on her tongue, she began to rub some of it onto the meat.
Soon enough the meat was done and she rested against the wyvern again. She'll have to worry about help later. Peeling off a piece of the meat, the food almost instantly put some of her stress at ease. The only other thing she can do now...was sing? Yes, that helped her relax, some good ole music.
"Fifteen men of the whole ship's list Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Dead and be damned and the rest gone whist! Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! The skipper lay with his nob in gore Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shore And the scullion he was stabbed times four And there they lay, and the soggy skies Dripped down in up-staring eyes In murk sunset and foul sunrise Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum." she sang, her voice smooth and liked nothing was wrong, it even sounded good natured.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 30, 2011 18:58:30 GMT -6
It was a wyvern. With a campfire rising from nearby it, no less. Clair circled warily. The skirmish with the Bernese had put her on edge. It had challenged al her ideas about the battle they'd just come from as well, but she could see no signs of any ambush this time. Then again, the wyvern was looking pretty dead. Who would make camp by a dead wyvern?....
The singing did it. Clair had to figure out what this was all about. There was a woman singing something about a captain and a scullion? The Falcoknight landed about fifty feet out in a small cloud of snow, and threw her leg over the side of the pegasus. As she landed in the snow, she pulled her lance loose from the saddle harness.
"Now, don't you go anywhere this time, you fat-feathered chicken brain." She griped under her breath. She'd not had the best experience with this steed. The last time she had gotten off the pegasus, it had fled with her lance at the start of skirmish. That had been yet another variation of a lesson she'd learned long ago: Never be without your weapon when you need it. She hadn't expected her weapon to fly away though....
"Hello there!" Clair shouted over to the green-haired woman. She certainly didn't appear to be in the Bernese army, so Clair relaxed a touch. "I don't see many women traveling alone in the Illian wilds, mind if I take a few moments of your time?" For that matter, very few people traveled alone in Illia, whether man or woman. The snows and the bandits were too dangerous.
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Oct 30, 2011 19:21:57 GMT -6
"Awww man......" Garith groaned as he started to move around. It was cold so cold Garith was getting tired of the coldness. When he was older and married he was going to get a house far from Ilia somewhere warmer. When he heard Derick's voice Garith looked over to him. He looked as beat up as he was which made Garith laugh a bit which hurt.
"Hey man looks like we both got a little banged up," Garith laughed as he tried to get up. He struggled at first but then sat back down as the pain was too much.
"Come on kid,"Cryger said as he extended his hand to Garith. "The fight may be over but we still need to help around let's go catch up with Feldsky,"The assassin added as he helped Garith up and then ran after their Commander.
"Hey Derick you think you're up to chasing after her?" Garith asked as he bent over and reached his hand out to his friend.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Oct 30, 2011 19:34:15 GMT -6
"Hey Derick you think you're up to chasing after her?" Garith asked as he bent over and reached his hand out to his friend.
Derick smiled as he took the hand. In training, there had been no friends. There were no recruitment groups, and the men in Derick's squadron after boot camp had been unfriendly and harsh, just the way Bern liked their infantry. Derick pulled on the hand and helped himself up. He spoke warmly to Garith, "Thanks...Yeah, let's get going...but hold on a second..."
Derick removed the remaining pieces of his sergeant's armor. He expected to feel naked and uncomfortable without the confines of soldier's armor. He didn't. Quite the opposite in fact. He felt a new sense of liberation. He tentatively stretched his newly healed leg, and, after a few experimental steps, he started to run after their commander. But...wait...Derick squinted over the icy plains...Clair was probably much further off then she looked, and something was bothering Derick...but what was it?...
There was a strained groan, Derick spun around lance at the ready to meet the unknown sound. It was a Bernese soldier, with a gaping wound in his lower abdomen, struggling to rise from the frozen cobblestone streets of the city. Derick clapped a glove to his head as he recalled basic training: checking the dead. Derick started to walk towards the soldier, and called over his shoulder to his friend, "Garith, wait up a second!" He drew near the soldier, who had collapsed to the stones...He isn't long for this world...it's doing him a favor... With that thought, Derick brought his spear to bear, and cleanly drove it through the soldier's neck. The tip of the spear scraped the man's vertebra as it punctured flesh, and crimson dripped onto the cobblestone. One down...Quite a few to follow. Derick's combat reflex didn't fire, he was almost relieved, he wasn't sure if his body could handle another one today.
As Derick rose from the body, a chill blew through the air, causing him to shiver involuntarily. The lack of a rattle startled him, and he realized once again that he wasn't wearing armor. Basic training floated through his head again, and he realized that lacking armor would offset almost every combat maneuver he had been taught...But he couldn't use the stolen armor. This skirmish had made that much clear. He began walking down the street absent-mindedly as he approached the problem. Suppose there's an armor smith nearby? Maybe Clair knows where I could--
Derick's leg caught on something, his arms peddled the air in a gesture of futility before he crashed onto the stone road. With a soft moan, he lifted himself off of the pavement and looked at what he had tripped on, a dead enemy, great...Wait. Derick walked over to the fallen foe and appraised him carefully. His armor was freshly minted, no dents or scratches...except for the gaping hole on the back armor plate. Derick started to walk away, but stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to look at the armor again. It was his size. Figures, Derick reminded himself as he stooped to examine it closer, I wear the standard size for armor, finding replacements would be... Derick spoke the last of his thought aloud as he fingered one of the clasps holding the soldier's chest plate in place, "easy..."
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Post by Cefia on Oct 30, 2011 19:42:46 GMT -6
Cefia stopped singing when the woman approached. This was surprising, rescue already? She ripped off another piece of the wyvern meat and bit into it. She never knew how it was so tender, juicy and sweet. The ration she smashed up and rubbed against the meat had even made it a tiny bit spicy. Oh right the woman.
"Ahoy thar lass!" she said, waving over at the young woman.
"Aye, mehaps ye can help me out o'ere," she replied in jolly good nature.
"Ye can 'ave some o' dis meat ere too, really good fer a o'ergrown lizard," she said, offering out the piece of meat without too much caution.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 31, 2011 10:47:43 GMT -6
Clair's pegasus pushed her nose down through the snow and began nibbling on snow, and whatever grassy remnants from before the snows fell remained as soon as the Falcoknight began moving towards the strange orange lights and pillar of blackish clouds. She wasn't completely at ease though. It could be a trap! That giant tooth-filled preadator could come alive at any moment, latch its claws around her neck, and slice her to ribbons, and even her new, lighter haired two-legs might not be able to stop it. Still... the two-legs seemed far more capable and protective than her previous one.... Maybe she'd just wait over here... out of the way.
Clair tapped the handle of her lance on the ground a few times as she inspected the situation. Here was a somewhat battered girl camping on a wyvern corpse, offering a chunk of cooked... wyvern? The Falcoknight was fairly sure she understood the woman, but it was definitely not an Illian speech pattern. Last Clair had looked, Illia was not a hotspot for travelers. What were all these foreigners doing here!?
Clair took the meat, and looked it over, but didn't bite into it immediately. She'd seen the greenhaired woman eating off of it, so it was probably safe. Not that Clair had any experience with wyvern meat herself. She took a pace back as she looked back to the woman.
"You're not a wyvern rider, are you? What's your name, traveler? Tell me what happened here." Clair continued calmly alternating between scanning the snowy area, the green-haired pirate-talking lady, and occasionally, the piece of meat. Maybe she ought to suggest opening an Illian touring business to the Illian Lords next time she got a chance. It seemed about the right thing to do these days.
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