Perun
Warrior
Words of praise will never perish, nor a noble name.
Posts: 141
Profession: Donnie's Muscle
Affiliation: LCO
Guild: What is Guild?
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Perun on Jul 23, 2015 10:50:13 GMT -6
The little assassin danced away from Perun's axe swing, then spun quickly, piercing Perun's shoulders with one of his daggers. The man did not leave the dagger in for long, immediately dragging it out, then taking it and his other dagger and raking the twin daggers across Perun's chest, then back across his stomach. An intense burning sensation of pain ripped across Perun's center, blood slowly coloring his now ripped up clothes. Perun brought his axe back closer to his own body, then took a swipe at the assassin's thin neck. The Assassin threw his body back without moving his feet, merely hinging his body at the hips so that the axe sailed over him.
The assassin rose once more and swung his left arm down, holding his dagger facing forward, and drug it across Perun's right thigh. Perun most likely could have dodged that blow, but needed instead to avoid another. At the same instant as the left had moved, the assassin's right arm shot up, attempting to stab Perun in the side of the neck. Perun heaved himself backward, his leg being cut but not taking lethal damage. Perun placed both hands on his axe haft, but did not swing.
The assassin crouched, then brought both daggers up in a flash, cutting again against he stomach, leaving two trails of blood. Perun was lucky the man dared not go deeper in his cuts. Had his blades pierced Perun an inch or two farther, the wounds would bleed so fast that Perun could die before the fight was over, but the man could take longer in getting the blades out, and Perun could potentially kill him.
The assassin shot one arm up and the other down, then gave Perun his opening. As his arms went out, Perun swung as quick as he could at the arm that shot up, severing it just above the elbow. The assassin screamed, the first sound he had made in his and Perun's fight. Perun let his left hand leave his axe, and wrapped it around the assassin's neck. With his right, he bashed the dagger out of the assassin's hand, then drove his axe home into the man's stomach. It was far too deep for Perun to bring it back out fast.
As the assassin's body hit the ground, and blood soaked Perun turned and shouted, "Ree-moose. Perun is needing to be healed now." Without another word, the orange giant turned towards Michael, and started walking. He lifted his axe, and slowly closed the distance between the two of them.
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Post by Donovan on Jul 25, 2015 19:56:07 GMT -6
[OoC - Don’s going before Remus this round per Ilh’s suggestion.]
Donovan and Carter were doing their best to hold off the Sacaen, but it became clear to the raven haired mercenary that he and his companion were being toyed with. Suddenly the mullet master’s voice rang through the air, and Don dove, rolling under his opponent’s blade and switching positions with Duma. The assassin his master had been facing was wounded deeply. One of his arms hung limply at his side. The man’s dagger poised and pointed at the mercenary in his left hand. Thanks to the kindness of his previous enemy, Donovan was minimally wounded, but he knew that wouldn’t remain the same against this new threat. The Sacaen hadn’t even been trying to hurt Donovan or Carter, but he’d find none of the same courtesy from this man.
The mercenary readied his sword and shield, preparing for the biggest uphill battle of his life. Sweat was beading along his brow and slowly dripped into his eye, causing him to blink. It was in that second that the assassin charged. Donovan barely had the chance to turn his chest to minimize the chance of having his heart torn open. The dagger shredded through his leather armor and cut perpendicular to the scars already etched into his ivory skin.
Donovan’s sword flashed upward, trying to hit the man while he was close but to no avail. The assassin was far faster than Donovan and leapt backward without so much as getting scratched. He’s damn fast. Faster than the hellhounds back in Sacae. This is gonna suck. Donovan charged forward and tried to catch the assassin before the man could completely get his footing. The dastardly man merely leaned out of the way, avoiding the horizontal slash of the blade that had once been Flynn’s, his dagger flying up in his one good arm and cutting deeply into Donovan’s sword arm. The man bleeding from chest and arm tried to swing back around and found his arm struggling to lift. Stepping forward with his left foot, he threw his weight into his shield and slammed the assassin to the ground.
Jumping back immediately after to give himself space he did the only thing he could think of to save his life. He removed his shield from his arm as the assassin rose and held it ready like a disc. The assassin moved in for the kill and Donovan threw the beautifully designed shield at the man. Of course, he missed. The assassin was far too quick to be caught with any ridiculous stunt like that, but it gave Don a moment with his opponent unfocused on him. He took his sword in his off hand and readied himself for the dagger’s next kiss.
The dagger bit deeply into his leg, but Donovan had hoped it would do so. His wounded arm quickly grasped the wrist of his opponent, making sure to keep the blade firmly where it was lodged. Gritting through the pain Donovan tried to articulate that the man was just another fast creature to be disposed of through this very tactic - like that doog in Sacae. But instead, he found his tongue to weary to speak, too bound by pain to formulate the necessary words. So he did the only other thing he could think of in the half a second he held a dagger in his leg; he spat in the assassin’s eye. And then stabbed the man through the center of his chest.
The pair of men fell to the ground. One dead and one very lucky there was a healer in his party. Donovan rolled over and saw four corpses littering the field in front of this unfortunate inn. And then he saw Perun do something even more foolish than when he’d first charged out of the tavern’s door. Adrenaline and rage poured from Donovan’s bones, ”PERUN! DON’T F^#&ING TAKE ANOTHER STEP!” Donovan pushed himself up, his right arm and leg struggling to do their job, but his emotions forcing him through the pain. The very wounded mercenary drew his sword from the center of the assassin’s chest and locked eyes with the leader of the pack. He motioned with the blade at the corpses strewn across the field, ”Let the girl go and walk away. Look around you. You've lost. All your friends are dead.”
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Post by Remus on Jul 26, 2015 16:20:09 GMT -6
Things happened so swiftly. Remus found himself hard pressed to precisely follow the multitudes of combat. There were two assassins fighting, a swordsman, and the man who had knocked out Amelia and taken her hostage prior. The blue haired priest felt an almost dizzying vertigo over-take him when he tried to follow each individual fight. However he had to. Despite this confusion, the events that transpired swiftly as Perun rushed forwards towards the assassin and Donovan made a swift strike towards the man Duma had been fighting; while Duma moved to duel the man fighting Donovan and Carter. Remus noticed a rather serious amount of wounds take up in the brief span of a few moments to blink his eyes. He couldn't heal them individually well enough. Remus lifted his staff upwards as he tried to focus. He narrowed his scope of worries to a single gesture. Mend. His thoughts a finite mantra of but one word. Heal. He looked to Elimine for this strength. That she might harbor the might needed to knit their wounds and bring them whole once more. If not literally, but more directly so regardless. Elimine could have, and within that vast potential of his patron saint; lied roots to a mortal coil. It had to be in his scope as well. He would accept no less. Remus winced slightly at the sudden dip in fatigue as he threw his staff into the air. A colossal blue sphere of light blossomed out before them all. A sphere of radiance that pulsed with pure magical essence before scattering. Guided by the priests will, it moved to imbue within the wounds of the entire collective helping to protect the priest and try to reclaim the unconscious orphan. The jewel within his staff was pulsing like a beacon to his wounded friends before Remus gave it a little more "force" to let the outwards healing energy overflow into the area all around him. Simultaneously healing all his comrades, despite the fatigue it brought on. As Remus heard Donovans words, he gazed towards the man that had seemed to be the leader of the group of assailants. Sweat trickled down the priests cheek at either side and droplets cascaded from his jaw at a scarce yet growing interval. -------------------------------------- Michael felt a small twinge of disbelief. He didn't show it of-course. He'd seen far more surprising. Heavens be damned though. Now Sev was holding off the one who had killed Cain. Yugen and Mugen were dead. Garth was dead. He'd have to kill them. Why wasn't he surprised? Michael shook his head in mock-exasperation as he started to laugh a bit. The savage grin upon his lips seemed to emphasize the merciless cruelty that he harbored. While he shifted the shield and gripped the red-hilted blade tighter, he slowly emptied his thoughts. He knew the drill. He knew how it went. He didn't get the luxury of using it wantonly. Only in the right mindset... Anger. Slowly his facial features grew more strained. Cross, to upset, to angered, to livid, to a seething rage that boiled his very blood. He focused on it. It was as easy as turning a switch at this point in his life. His fingers coiled tighter around the blade until his knuckles grew white. His muscles tense, and arm slightly shaking as he ignored the lumbering giant that slowly approached. He slowly gazed upwards as he lifted his blade and pointed it towards the group that defied him. His voice was strained from the unbridled rage now coursing through his veins as brief images flickered through his mind. " Now let's see...who first..eh?" ”Let the girl go and walk away. Look around you. You've lost. All your friends are dead.”Michael let out a savage grin, as he looked to Donnovan. ---- Carter recognized that blade. In that small instant. It clicked. This man. He was the Ilian Reaper. The Frozen Nova. A retired Ilian Mercenary. Then that blade was... ---- " WE HAVE A VOLUNTEER!" Michael lifted his blade backwards as if he was about to swing it. A loud hissing echoed outwards, as if the air spiraled and rushed inwards to the blade. The stifling still air became a sweltering inferno as the blade lit into flames. The intense heat radiating from it already had sweat beginning to develop on Michael's temples. ---- Carter turned to look to Donovan, who stood still near the assassins corpse. He started sprinting towards the other mercenary, letting his blade drop to the ground and pumping his arms. He did not bother to manage his breath properly for the drawn out sprint. Every lingering ounce of stamina emptied into each kick off as he tried to get there fast enough. As Michael swung his blade, Carter slid forwards to shoulder Donovan hard enough that he would stumble and fall a considerable distance. He couldn't just tackle him. They would both get hit. ---- Michael swept his blade, and shouted out with savage glee as he did so. How long had it been since he'd used it? Two years? Two years too many. " ROAST EM', CHERNABOG" The blade swept through the air as if a crescent slash being implemented. A sphere of fire, small in initial size went spiraling out of the blades tip as he slashed at the air. The orb was bright with an intense fiery light that looked almost harmless. The intensely condensed flame had gathered in the swing, becoming more and more pressurized before Michael had sent it out. Though the initial target had been spared by act of martyrdom, Michael looked on with brutal glee as the other mercenary rushed forward to burn at the stake. The fiery orb collided with his body...and boom. A blinding orange light flashed out as the boy's body became engulfed in a blistering tower of scorching flames. It plumed into the sky, incinerating the body of the mercenary and that of Yugen who had been lying dead not inches away. No sooner had the flames from it faded, that Michael began to laugh with savage satisfaction at the carnage. A moment later the burnt corpse of the mercenary fell to the ground, no longer distinguishable from any other body left to rot in the flames. Michael felt the slight tug of fatigue. It wasn't much yet. He knew that wouldn't be a constant, but gods had he missed it! His blade ignited into flames, orange and crimson blaze swirling the metal edges of the elongated gladius shaped blade. He looked to the boy who had tried to talk him down before speaking with the obvious attempt to suppress laughter bleeding into his voice. " I'm sorry..what was that about walking away? I couldn't hear you..over your incompetence." ------------------------------------------- Remus shouted out as he extended a hand before retracting it. " CARTER!" He felt a huge pit form within his stomach. Despite his frantic thoughts to try and mend the wounds of the burned male. He..knew he couldn't. Not because it was out of his scope and power to do so, which it was, but because a dead body could not be healed. He could not revive the dead...and he had seen burnt corpses enough within his life time to know...and as he averted his gaze in agony he felt the dreaded memories of the burning orphanage. The ashen corpses cast about and blackened bones..only to now think of carter atop those. Remus felt an overwhelming nausea threaten to seize him. He had been powerless to hel.. again . He shook his head in partial denial and lowered his forehead to press to the chilled gemstone of his staff. Pain of the heart removing all notion of weariness while he tried to keep from crumbling. From losing his entire sense of composure. The others needed him. There would be time to mourn. There had to be...
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Post by Duma on Jul 27, 2015 16:49:31 GMT -6
Ooc- minor wall o text.
The Raven haired Sacean man spoke no words as he found himself suddenly challenged by Duma. The man called Sev noticed the swordsman had given himself a small handicap in order to even the battle odds between them. To him this showed honor and respect. The black garbed man raised his blade towards Duma and took a stance. This showed Duma that he had accepted the challenge. A small smirk showed up on Duma’s face. Unlike the assassin who was willing to play dirty, this swordsman that stood before him knew something about honor. Duma noticed how his opponent steadied his blows during his fight with Donny and Carter. If this man had not that honor then there was a good chance Donny would have been dead a long time ago. Duma took a moment to calm himself. The fight with both Assassins had taken it’s toll on his body. A light from one of Remus’ staves, filled the air which helped to rejuvenate him. The young priest was doing a fantastic job at keeping everyone healed. He stared out towards the raven haired man, focusing on him. This man was now his opponent and there would be few things that were to distract him from fighting him. Duma raised his sword and adopted his classic stance.
“To an honest duel.” The green clad swordsman spoke out loud before the both of them rushed out towards one another. Both of their swords clashed with one another, followed by both of them jumping back to give some distance. Duma could feel his sword arm twitch in a mix of excitement and pain. This Raven haired swordsman was strong and skilled. Duma did not know what the Raven Haired swordsman thought of him yet. But the fact that his opponent stood there for a moment gave him a bit of a hint that he was thinking the same about him.
They charged at one another again this time, another clang between their swords filled the air. But this time Duma did not jump back. The raven haired man tried to sweep Duma’s feet with a horizontal strike, to which Duma blocked. The green haired swordsman pressed forward hoping to hit his opponent with an upwards slice but the Raven haired man dodged. Duma took a step back for some distance. Around him he could hear the others but he could not make out what they were saying. Another charge this time from the Raven haired man, he feinted a stab, to which Duma could see then blocked the downwards vertical slice with his sword. Both men had similar styles but executed them differently. Like the assassins before him the Raven haired man was testing Duma’s reactions hoping to gain something about his movements that would give him an edge. Duma was doing the same and he could not find a clear weakness.
Duma gave him another charge and again the raven haired man blocked him. Both swordsman pulled their blades away from one another and continued to swing. Each of them either skillfully dodging the other’s blade or blocking it all together. To those watching from the outside it would appear that both men were dancing and dodging small flashing lights with an occasional clang of metal upon metal resounding through the air. Duma could feel his heart racing as the adrenaline kept pumping through his veins.
This fight between the two of them excited him in a manner he had not felt since his duel in Sacae. And it seemed that he was doing the same to him. Duma noticed that the Raven haired man was grinning in between strikes. Both of them feeling a mutual respect for one another out in the battlefield. Duma did not know this man’s story or how he came into the employ of a bunch of assassins. But he did know that this man’s style.. no this man deserved better then the company of those rogues. His upbringing, his presence, the way he commanded his sword, told Duma that.
“Haa!” Duma groaned as he brought his sword down at the Raven Haired man’s blade once more. This time he kept his weight on the blade so that he could be close. Close enough to speak without yelling. It was here that Duma could see the small nicks and cuts that were visible on the raven haired man. The cuts caused by his blade. Duma could feel that he was also littered with dozens of cuts from the raven haired man’s sword. These razor thin knicks in the flesh small reminders of how close they were to death. Duma opened his mouth but before he could utter a word something broke his concentration.
CARTER! He could hear Remus yell. Duma was forced to look around and off in the distance he could see flames. The leader of the assassins had pulled the remains of a charred thing off of his weapon. The charcoaled body of a man fell to the ground. The charred husk was too small to be Perun, Donny was yelling something behind him, and Remus’ blue hair could be seen out the corner of his eyes. Carter was the only one of the group who had died. Duma did not break his focus with the Raven haired man.
“...You.. sir have given me one of the greatest duels of my life. So.. much so that I wish.. we had met under different circumstances. You.. would have been someone I had been honored to call friend… perhaps a rival. But.. this.. dance of blades between us has distracted me from my duties.. and my comrade is dead because of it. I.. am sorry but I must drop the formalities here.” As he spoke he continued to press his weight forward. The Raven Haired man pushed off with all of his force and threw Duma off of him. He jumped back to give some distance. Duma cast off the joy of the fight he had felt a moment ago. Carter’s death snapped him back to reality. He found himself running forward. Out towards the Raven haired man whom he had now marked for dead. The raven haired man did not warrant Duma’s quiet inner fury, after all this man did not kill Carter. But he needed to be disposed off in order for Duma, to avenge the young Ilian whom had traveled with them.
Duma charged forward, he had intended to strike the man down with a vertical strike downwards. The Raven haired man did not block instead he slashed diagonally hitting Duma in the right pectoral then up to his arm. The strike was deep and Duma was sure it had punctured his lung. He coughed a sputter of red and clear fluid emerged from out of his mouth. He was fortunate to have Remus around healer otherwise a wound like this would have become fatal. Duma’s sword however, was lodged deep into the man’s throat. The green haired swordsman will not forget the look of shock and horror etched upon the black haired man’s face. In one swift motion of his wrist Duma cut his sword out of the man’s neck causing the raven haired man to bleed extensively. Duma quickly grabbed the other man’s sword and his arm and held it down to the man’s chest.
“You fought with honor.” Duma started to speak. His voice was soft.
“Wor-ry not.. once my fight with your boss is over.. I will eh..ehn-sure you are given a proper burial. One where your body is re-re-turned to mother earth and your spirit re-re-returned to father sky. Your buh-blade.. in your hand. Your past transgressions are for-for-given.. do not let them burden you as you cross into the next life.” The Raven haired man stuttered and shook as he tried to get some sort of semblance of words out. Duma continued to hold him until the raven haired man stopped moving. The green haired swordsman passed his palm over the dead man’s eyes closing them. Duma coughed again, the pain in his body becoming more apparent.
“Rey-REH..mus!” He choked out while slowly pulling himself up off the ground. His hand went to his chest. His hand tried to keep the blood from seeping out of his body.
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Perun
Warrior
Words of praise will never perish, nor a noble name.
Posts: 141
Profession: Donnie's Muscle
Affiliation: LCO
Guild: What is Guild?
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Perun on Jul 28, 2015 20:35:44 GMT -6
The battlefield was made to stand still again around Perun. The orange giant's best friend had a way with words, but occasionally he said something that bit, and his silver tongue couldn't pull his teeth away from something that bit deeper. It appeared with Michael, he had said just what was needed to get the many ready to kill. The man lifted his sword over his head, and yelled, "WE HAVE A VOLUNTEER!" He said that right after Donovan had said something, that meant that the 'volunteer' must have been the tall mercenary. Then the man called out, "ROAST 'EM, CHERNABOG!" He swung his sword, and from it leaped a light of fire, burning hotter than any Perun had ever felt around a campsite, or the blaze of a raid. The ball of flame spun past Perun, picking up speed and size as it went.
Perun was too slow to stop the fire or save his best friend. He wasn't slow enough to avenge him. His blood flared up, spurring him forward, however, as the heat of the flame erupted behind him, his face was still cold. Unless Donovan had managed to get out of the way, Perun killing this man would mean nothing. He would turn from the corpse of a vile man, to the corpse of arguably the best man he knew, and his closest friend. Perun's face was cold as he growled through his snarl, charging the Ilian Reaper. A few feet were still between the two of them when Perun lifted his own axe above the man's head. He could tell the man's sword arm was tired, leaving only the man's shield to combat the heavy Ilian. The giant prepared to swing, there was nothing the man could do to stop the leviathan of mass that was Perun.
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Post by Remus on Jul 30, 2015 20:33:41 GMT -6
Remus was torn. Perun was injured, and needed further healing. Donovan was covered in wounds as well. No sooner did he gaze at them, that he saw Duma equally wounded severely. Then..there was carter. No. Carter was no longer at a point that he could heal him. Despite how it ripped at his heart to condemn the already dead man, he had to accept that. Here and now. He was dead. He couldn't be healed. He couldn't attempt to heal him. Remus took a moment to breath deeply before he lifted his staff into the air. He braced himself, but he knew it'd do no real good. There was no amount of preparation he could do to brace himself for the depleted sensation that was about to hit him. He'd experienced it multiple times already...and there was still no helping it. Remus lifted the stave he relied on so often of late into the air, focusing and channeling his inner magics so that he could heal his friends. The warm intense radiance of healing magic once more spread outwards in a large sphere around Remus. It pulsed for several moments as he practically vented the healing essence. The magic energy split after a few seconds into three masses. It filled the air before spreading to and engulfing the priests wounded comrades. The energy continued to vent from the priest even then as he maintained the spell for several long drawn out moments. As he stood with his stave elevated, he felt his limbs grow weary in ever increasing intervals. Each second compounded upon the other and further multiplied the strain on the blue haired priests body before he suddenly released the flow of magic. A breathless gasp left him, and he found himself panting with ragged breaths for air afterwords. He was going to have to take greater care...
With him in such a state of exhaustion he found it almost impossible to maintain his focus on anyone.
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Michael was at a sudden loss for words. His self-perpetuated rage still swirled beneath, but the sight of seeing Sev fall was almost a source of disbelief. Sure, he could see someone killing Sev but it just seemed so..unlikely. So that was it then was it? He'd not really been too torn up over the others dying. Cain kind of sucked sure, but Sev was the one he'd done the most work with of that group. He'd seen Sev take down absurd odds. So, in his already seething state of anger...yeah..that was enough to give him that extra nudge to take these little pissants a bit more seriously. The leather of his gloves slowly stretched as he began to tighten his entire arm. He clenched up his muscles, and slowly began to shake with an unwavering rage. Even as the large man who had killed Garth charged at him. Michael simply stood there...pissed. At the last moment, he pivoted his upper torso and crouched slightly. His weight shifted and he threw his entire being into the singular backlash of motion. He swung his arm into a brutal shield bash against the burly orange haired man with every ounce of might his body could managed; intent on sending him crashing through the wooden wall of the inn. He'd done it before to heavy foes...he'd do it again.
Michael smite used
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Post by Duma on Aug 1, 2015 8:03:51 GMT -6
Duma looked around, he could see the others scattered about. Perun, the fool, was making a mad dash out towards the man who had killed Carter. Duma slowly hobbled over to Remus and stood in front of him. Carter was the only buffer between the hero and the healer and now he’s dead. As the warm light of the healing staff helped to seal his wounds he still felt exhausted. The wound on his chest was sealed but it still oozed bright red blood that stained his clothes, most of the internal damage was repaired. Duma noticed he could breathe a bit easier. While Perun distracted the Hero Duma pulled out from his pocket a sticky ball of something sweet and popped it into his mouth. The baker he bought it from called them Gaia’s confections or something like that, but they were meant to give the person eating them a small boost of energy. Duma crouched over to Remus and shoved the remaining piece of the sweets into the Priest’s hand.
“Eat it. It will help restore some energy. You will need it.” He turned his head over to see that the Hero had a plan to deal with Perun.
“...You.. will need it. If we fail... You will have to take Owain and run.” This was the job. If they died then they died. But the charge must live. A grim set of thoughts went through the swordsman’s mind as he watched Perun get hit hard by the Hero’s shield. He recognized that position, this man just used a skill. Perun was going to be sent flying. This man who was now their only opponent had power far beyond that of the average bandit. Duma gritted his teeth. This man had power that was beyond him. He stood up and walked forward. He drew from his sheath the brave sword and took a stance. There was no need for him to rush forward and attack this man, who killed Carter. This man wanted Remus for some reason, sooner or later he would have to approach the priest. When he does, Duma would be ready for him. He steadied his breathing and regained his focus. The swordsman eyes started to scan the man. He could pick out little gaps in his armor he could exploit. He learned his movements. In his mind Duma was starting to pick apart this man's style. Raw power combined with a magic weapon and a shield to deal with. He knew he needed to get behind the man somehow. Duma did not know who this man was. But this man knew the Raven haired nomad, Duma was going to get the name of the fallen warrior through the hero. I will carve that name into his grave.
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Post by Donovan on Aug 1, 2015 11:06:00 GMT -6
The black haired mercenary had made a mistake. One that he would never be able to take back. Even as the healing wave washed over him, mending the severe gashes and holes covering his body; even as the villain drew his weapon; even as the blade burst into flame, Donovan knew that his life was over. In the handful of seconds he had left before his death, the mercenary looked over at the only preacher he’d even liked, then his teacher who had been doing such a good job of turning Donovan into a true swordsman, and finally his gaze rested on the Giant. They’d not known each other too long, but in the time they’d traveled together, Perun had become the best friend Donovan had ever known.
The fire flew through the air, and the silver tongued mercenary cringed his eyes slamming shut. This was it. And then he was hit. Hard. From the wrong direction. Donovan flew through the air, his eyes opening just in time to see Carter engulfed in the explosive blast. One mercenary had given his life to save another. It wasn’t a common story. Though, it seemed people dying to save Donovan’s life was becoming a more regular event in these battles. The wind gently blew on this beautiful day, the blood stained grass billowing gently eastward. Donovan was frozen. He could not think, or feel, or move. "I'm sorry..what was that about walking away? I couldn't hear you..over your incompetence.” It was the truth in the murderer’s statement that snapped Don’s head back to reality. He was incompetent. He was outmatched, outgunned, and in over his head. But he had to do something. He owed Carter that much. And Duma, Perun, and Remus. He owed the kids a chance at life. So that’s what he would do. But he’d do it his way.
Donovan pulled himself to his feet and did the only logical thing someone who was going to be killed would do; he ran. He allowed himself to look as terrified as he felt, and pushed his way out toward forest. He ducked behind a tree and peaked around the corner to see Perun getting bashed with Michael’s shield. His heart leapt into his throat but the mercenary knew that he wouldn’t be able to put a scratch on their enemy, so he’d stick to his original plan.
But as he tried to push off and do his job, he felt the muscles in his legs tighten, his breath becoming ragged and uneven. Holy crap. Am I having a panic attack? Do I get those? Sinking down to his knees the mercenary tried to focus on breathing, he took three deep breaths and cleared his mind. He couldn’t afford to lose it now, he needed to get Amelia out of there. Pushing off with his left leg, he ran as quickly as he could toward the young girl and hoisted her onto his shoulder.
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Perun
Warrior
Words of praise will never perish, nor a noble name.
Posts: 141
Profession: Donnie's Muscle
Affiliation: LCO
Guild: What is Guild?
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Perun on Aug 2, 2015 23:41:39 GMT -6
Perun's roar changed into a scream as his massive form was shot backward. The orange mass dropped his axe almost at the moment of impact. His form turned slowly so that his body was flying at a strange angle. He did not know what had happened. Had he died? There was no way that this man could have sent Perun flying through the air, he was far too small compared to the hulking Ilian, clearly there was something else. It was easier for Perun to believe that he had been killed, and this is how you reached some strange afterlife, at an odd angle, at a high velocity. However, he was in an immense pain where he believed the man's shield had struck him, and ghosts could not feel pain.
Perun could, which proved he was not a ghost when his form ripped through the wall of the inn the party had stayed in the night before. The behemoth crashed onto a table, which broke under his weight and the force of his fall. Perun was unable to move. He lay there, amidst the rubble and wood, as a battle raged outside. The inn keep ran over to Perun, and said, "By the gods, are you all right man, what's happening?!" Perun barely managed to lift his head. "Get everyone to being out, then Perun's bow and arrows are in room." The man nodded, and started shouting at everyone to move, to get out of the inn. There weren't many patrons of the inn at this point, most had left a few moments after the Perun shaped hole had formed. Those left scurried out, and the man was off to get Perun's bow.
The first thing the giant could move was his right foot. He kicked it a few times, then managed to lift the leg. Slowly, the orange haired man pushed his elbow to his side, and lifted himself. It was slow, a portion of his strength had left him. As Perun moved his other knee to give him the support of both legs, Perun thought back to what exactly had happened. It was a flash, but the affects of Remus's healing spell had not hit Perun until he was already flying, so that while his pain only intensified, his body stopped degrading, stopped breaking down under the force of the blow. The effect of the man's magic was not done until he had already crashed, which was the only reason he'd kept consciousness, let alone been able to move.
Perun was on his feet, wavering when the inn keep returned, with Perun's bow and quiver. Perun slung his quiver over his shoulder, but the man held the bow. He was trying to bend the bow far enough to string it, but could not. Perun said to him, looking outside at Duma speaking with Remus, daring not to look closer to their enemy, "Place bow bottom on ground." The man obliged, and it worked. The second the bow was in his hand Perun barked, "Go!" He stepped out of the tavern hole as he set and drew an arrow back. He fired an arrow straight at the bounty hunter's face, but the man easily blocked it. As the Ilian drew another arrow from his quiver, his eyes shifted to the ground between himself and the swordsman, to see a burnt corpse.
As heavy tears formed on the inner corners of the giant's eyes, he notched another arrow, and missed wildly. Perun drew two arrows from his quiver, and held one with the hand he used to hold the bow. He drew the other back, and shot it at the man's shoulder. An instant after releasing, Perun's hand shot forward and he grabbed the other arrow, pulling it back. All the while, he shifted his left arm so that the shot was aimed for Michael's leg. Michael's shield blocked the first, but the second connected with the man's thigh. Perun ran, and placed his bow on the ground next to Remus.
The heavy tears rolled down Perun's cheeks, and the warrior was happy that he had not shaved, as he'd thought might be a good thing earlier today. Then, he would have tasted the salt of his weakness, but instead, his mustache stopped the tears. Perun sprinted forward scooping up his axe. He took a defensive stance between himself and the priest. If the man was going to send him flying again, let it be so. Perun could take another flight.
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Post by Remus on Aug 3, 2015 13:51:25 GMT -6
A thin bead of sweat trickled down the Ilian Reapers chin as the arrow balanced off his shield. As he saw the second one fly towards him, he knew what would happen. In his haste to enjoy himself some, he had over-done it. His movements were still complete, but the shift required in his shield to block the second arrow wouldn't be enough. He braced himself for the pain as the jolt washed over him like a burning hot brand being pressed to his skin. The arrow bedded it's self into his thigh, and for a moment he let it sit. Long enough to let the pain drive him further. Then however he grabbed at the edge of the shaft near where the arrow tip punctured skin. He firmly twisted his wrist while bracing himself and snapped the arrow in half before discarding it; tossing it to the side and standing up with an expression towards what one might expect. Unbridled rage. He snarled as he lifted his shield only to slam it against the ground partially. A cloud of dust and dirt kicked up slightly around the outer edges while he lifted up his blade. The flames ignited brighter promptly, the rushing sound starting to slowly build up. This time he would do it slower, so he didn't drain as much stamina right away. He gazed at them through a lethal gaze, eyes darting from person to person. Then..his eyes settled on the heavily muscled orange haired man. He would likely be the biggest problem. Swinging his blade in an arc, a trail of flames followed for a second behind it like a cloak. He crouched his body as he shouted with a bellowing tone. "I'll burn you to cinders!"
At that point, he noticed the small boy running. By the time he'd seen it, the thin mercenary he'd taunted earlier had slid past him and was too close to the girl. No, he wanted to obliterate him...but he couldn't. He had been ordered to bring the children and the priest back alive . However...that immunity didn't extend to the other expendable pieces of garbage. He swung his blade in a swathe. The blast flew through the air with a hiss. In moments...it would hit the large man annnnddd..boom.
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Remus felt his heart leap into his throat as Donovan went sprinting after Amelia. However he felt a certain sureness fill him as Donovan returned to the group carrying the unconscious girl. His gaze quickly adjusted to the approaching fireball that raced for Perun. Remus felt his heart hammering in his chest once more as the priest realized that the ilian giant was in danger. Reaching out with his staff, the priest tried everything he could think of. Healing wouldn't work. Elimine...shield us from this. Shield him. Shield him! A bright blue light pulsed from the priests staff. Like water rippling from disruptions on a still surface, the energy resonated. In a split second, a bright blue intense light projected around Perun. A dome of energy engulfed the giant, reflecting residual traces of outside light as if made of glass. There was a hissing as the fire clashed against the barrier, and Remus felt an immense strain wash over him. Gritting himself, and leaning forwards; it felt as if an immense force was pushing against the priest. As if he stood within a torrent of wind. The strain was beyond anything he'd experienced. The energy constructed barrier began to ripple with orange fragment like cracks along the point where the magic from the ilian mercenaries fire had hit it. The fire-ball was still spinning as if in motion, trying to break through and reach it's target.
A second pulse of energy left the staff as Remus grunted in exertion and continued trying to maintain the barrier magic. The cracks repaired as magic covered the surface to fully shield Perun. Suddenly the fireball combusted. A colossal torrent of flames roared upwards. The barrier splintered into tens of cracks; but maintained as blistering heat washed outwards. When the light dimmed, and the dust settled; there around Perun lingered the fragmented and barely standing barrier.
A moment later it all fell apart. The barrier dropped like a mirror that had been shattered into pieces. Remus dropped not a moment later. The priest fell to his knees as he gasped for air. His throat burning as he struggled to maintain himself after the immense pressure. Sweat trailed down the sides of his temples and he felt his entire body angrily throb with soreness in protest of the slightest movements. His fingers clawed at the dirt while he tried to brace himself. Faintly, he could hear laughter as the Ilian Mercenary taunted them. Michael raised his blade and resumed his fighting stance. "Your lucky that trick saved you! Looks like you won't be doing that again though..so ladies..without your nurse-maid to hand you wet blankets..whats your next plan?"
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Post by Duma on Aug 4, 2015 12:55:44 GMT -6
Perun was sent flying towards the Inn wall and from behind the Hero he could see Donny running with Amelia. Smart man. Smart man! If they survived this Duma would have to praise him later. Perun had started to launch arrows towards the Hero. One of them hit the Hero in the leg, which would hopefully limit his movement. Duma had rested enough by standing and keeping guard to Remus, to a point where he felt he could continue the fight. Just.. a bit more. We have a chance. If Perun keeps launching arrows from afar. A few moments after he had said that Perun was soon close to him in a defensive position. F*ck.
As the Hero launched another ball of flame towards Perun, Duma's eyes widened in shock. He was in no position to help Perun as the ball of fire would inevitably collide with the large orange man. This hero was going to be responsible for killing another one of this band of guards. The tower of flames erupted from the Hero's sword and struck out towards Perun's direction. Duma was forced move in order to avoid the heat of the flames. He glanced at Remus behind him who was busy casting some sort of magic with his staff. The sound that was made when the fire collided with what he thought was Perun sounded different. Duma looked over and saw the fire was fighting to reach Perun through a blue hued bubble of some kind. From the floor Duma picked up Carter's steel sword, he had a plan. When Remus fell Duma went on the offensive, he charged forward as the Hero with the flaming sword started taunting.
"So ladies..without your nurse-maid to hand you wet blankets..whats your next plan?" Plan? Here, let me show you.
"Perun! Hit Him!" With one sword in each hand the sword master was on the attack. He slashed with both swords towards the Hero's weapon, the strike was strong enough to knock the Hero's arm back. But not enough to disarm him, he took advantage of the forced movement to strike again under his arm. He then jumped back to get some distance between them.
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Perun
Warrior
Words of praise will never perish, nor a noble name.
Posts: 141
Profession: Donnie's Muscle
Affiliation: LCO
Guild: What is Guild?
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Perun on Aug 5, 2015 12:35:17 GMT -6
Perun stared into the face of death as heat swelled around him. Michael had fired another great ball of fire, this time at Perun instead of at his friend. Perun knew he was not fast enough to leap away from the man's blast, and in the bare seconds before the blaze reached him, found himself surprisingly prepared to enter the after life. He could practically welcome it. However, just before the blaze would have killed him, as his body erupted in cascading beads of sweat from the heat, a blueish haze seemed to surround the orange giant. The ball spun against the magical barrier, and Perun felt an odd sensation on his chest. He looked down, and saw that his chest hair, as well as his stomach hair now exposed through the cuts on his shirt, was singed at its tip. It was only moments before the barrier and the ball of fire seemed to explode together, but as the barrier fell like shards of glass, Perun was left standing, ultimately unharmed from the blast.
"Your lucky that trick saved you! Looks like you won't be doing that again though..so ladies..without your nurse-maid to hand you wet blankets..whats your next plan?" Perun scowled at the man. He had killed Donovan, he shouldn't be talking, he should be dead. Then came Duma yelling, "Perun! Hit Him!" Perun slid his right hand up the haft of his axe so that his fingers were wrapped just below the blade of the weapon. <As good a plan as any.>
Perun charged at the man, giving out the roar of a warrior. Michael attempted to block him with his shield, as his sword arm was preoccupied with Duma. Perun was not going to be sent flying again anytime soon, he rammed his shoulder into the man's giant shield, knocking the man off balanced. Duma and Perun were a deadly combination, keeping the man's focus split. Perun then swung his axe around the man's shield, but when he connected with Michael's chest, his axe did not penetrate. It was the angle, it was all wrong. Perun pulled it back, and readied to dodge any blow the man could throw.
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Post by Donovan on Aug 5, 2015 20:33:24 GMT -6
The mercenary held Amelia in his long arms as Perun exited through a hole in the wall of the inn. Wait. Did this guy hit the Giant hard enough to send his flying that far? Is he actually that strong? He watched as the warrior fired his bow at Michael, before Donovan realized that he still needed to get the girl to a safe place. Diving back into the tree line, he placed her down in the relative safety of the forest. “Just give us a few minutes, we’ll come back for you. I promise, kid.” The girl was still unconscious, but Don wasn’t just saying it to her, he needed to believe it himself.
A shockwave rocked the trees around Donovan, the air suddenly hot. He spun around to see an inferno blast upwards. Someone had been hit. Another one of his friends was probably gone. His best friend might be gone. The black haired man looked down at his borrowed blade. He’d run from a lot of fights. He’d never fought someone he knew he couldn’t beat. He was truly a mercenary - a sell sword. But that life was over for him. He needed to start taking risks. Putting his life on the line. For Perun’s sake. And Remus and Duma’s as well. For the kids. But most of all, for Carter.
Don sprinted back into the clearing, he heard his fencing master call for Perun to attack, and Don realized that now was the time for all of them to move in for the kill. The rogue’s attention was drawn to the two more experienced fighters in front of him, his eyes weren’t even on the silver tongued mercenary.
Using a two handed grip, Don held his sword ready and charged. Duma struck first, knocking their enemy’s sword back and hitting under his arm. Then Perun rammed into the huge shield, knocking Michael off balance. That was the key, a little Forked Lightning. Don swung low, aiming at the back of Michael’s knees where his armor would be weaker. Even if he didn’t manage to cause too much damage, the combination of hits from the trio should make the strike enough to knock Michael over. At the very least granting them some more time. The mercenary rolled out of the strike, ending up a good distance from the monster they were facing. He readied himself to leap to either side, should Chernabog spit it’s fire once more.
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Post by Remus on Aug 6, 2015 10:41:51 GMT -6
The blistering rage of Chernabog bled into him. However it was the dangerous type. Blind rage was a fury that few could truly manipulate in battle. It brought ferocious strength to an edge only to kneel before the thoughtful mind. How many years had he been wielding Chernabog now? How many times had it tried that? No. The most dangerous rage, was the cold fury. Unbridled desire to throw every possible aspect of your best at something until it was utterly destroyed. Every sense on edge. Every instinct primed and methodically calculating each facet of an opponents options. He'd seen them all, while fighting the others. He'd gotten a chance to observe their fighting styles. At-least, as much as he'd need to have the edge. However, to their credit...it was a dangerous combination the three made. As Michael braced himself and snarled in anticipation; he lifted his shield outwards. First the swordsman. As Duma rushed forwards, twin blades in hand; Michael ferociously shouldered forwards at the moment the male leaned in to strike. His tower shield thundered ahead of him as he moved to slam into the man with a powerful shield bash intending to send him off his axis and dizzy him. However no sooner had he, the orange lumbering monster had rushed forwards. Shifting his weight onto his wounded leg purposefully; Michael's body instinctively buckled a bit under the weight. A faster reaction than he would have had trying to move away.
The angle that it gave him lead to him feeling the grating slice of the Ax clashing with his hardened leather armor. The chainmail beneath was caught slightly; grinding against his skin but not piercing into it. However While the orange giant struck, the mercenary from before tried to sneak in an attack. Michael shifted his weight, and instead of attempting to parry the boy's strike leaned outwards and away. As the orange giant moved to leave Michael's range; Michael followed in an effort to unleash a savage kick to the gut. Using his wounded leg, while his body was still in a mild state of shock from the wound, He kicked off his good leg and threw his weight behind the blow. He aimed to time it for when the man was mid step. Only one leg's worth of footing and balanced mid motion as it was, it was the greatest time to knock another back. This motion simultaniously brought him out of range from the other swordusers strike.
He did not leave it at that though. Twisting on his single heel, he slipped his hand to free it from the strap before catching it within his fingers and turned. The Ilian Reaper full on belted the shield at the scraggly haired thin mercenary who had been so mouthy earlier. Intended to hit him in the lower abdomen, he put every ounce of strength behind the shield toss before snarling once more and viciously rushing forwards with his now free hand; attempting to grip the Swordmaster by the throat. It would force the others to back off a bit if he got ahold of him; it would also give Michael a moment to let some of that building rage out. Even he couldn't handle Chernabog's endless seething fury if he used it too much.
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Post by Duma on Aug 8, 2015 8:31:54 GMT -6
Duma was surprised at the hero's movements. He had managed to deflect the sword blows with his body armor and shield. The hero was successful with his shield bash. Duma felt pain course through his body was it made contact with the metal. The force was enough to have him drop the brave sword and fall onto his back. Duma could feel gobs of warm blood trailing down his face. He barely managed to pull himself up off the ground to notice the hero dispatch of both Perun and Donny. This.. man is a goddamn monster. He panted and slowly turned his gaze back to the healer. Remus was still out of commission.
The gears in his head were starting to turn as he started to slowly figure out exactly what kind of trouble they were all in. This man was no trafficker or bandit. This man and his crew were hired hit men. Good hired hit men. Which meant that Remus had done something to anger someone in power. If they lived he was going to want an explanation from the priest. As Duma slowly got back up onto his feet he felt both his hands grip Carter's sword. The best hope they had of taking this man down was the three of them attacking together. Duma charged forward but he was woozy from the exhaustion and blood loss. It was enough of a distraction for him to get caught by the hero. Duma soon felt the burly hand of the hero on his neck.
Another blow to his gut caused him to drop Carter's blade before he could use it to free himself. Duma gritted his teeth and tried to focus his efforts on keeping his neck stiff. It was a poor defense to the hero's choking but it was all Duma could do at the moment. This man was angry. Duma could see it in his actions. The swordsman hands desperately tried to claw at the hero's gauntleted arms. No.. no! I.. refuse.. to die here. Like this.. Duma thought to himself. The hero started to speak to Duma, in regards to himself or the fallen raven haired swordsman. Through this small monologue the green haired swordsman heard the name of the Sacean man he had slain. Duma could barely mutter a wordless breath as he felt his vision fading. His comrades would have to do something to save him if they could. But with each effort they could make Michael could easily move Duma's body around as a meat shield. Duma's mind started to linger with thoughts of his actions past. His body started to go still.
Then it hit him. He remembered about the small fruit knife he kept tucked away in his boot for emergencies. If his friends couldn't do anything, then he could give himself, one last effort into freeing his body. With the last bit of his conscious strength he pulled the boot with the knife close to his hand and drew the tiny blade. He gripped the hero's hand and plunged the tiny kitchen tool into the underside of his wrist. Duma could feel the blood on his hands as he knew he had struck flesh and not armor. He repeated the motion again and at last Michael released Duma. The swordsman took a large breath of air before crumbling to the ground.
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