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Post by Donovan on Oct 6, 2015 14:18:14 GMT -6
All Donovan could notice was the pain, the ringing in his ears. As he opened his eyes to try and get his bearings, the world seemed to swim. A pair of men came into view, they looked remarkably similar — quite a bit like the innkeeper, actually. Donovan went to push himself onto his elbows, but the pain from his broken shield arm forced him to fall back down as an anguished scream forced its way from his lungs. “AAAAAARRRGH! F——.” The raven haired mercenary stared to curse before the pain from his broken ribs overwhelmed him and sent the young man into a fit of coughing. When he started coughing blood, the innkeeper - who Donovan now realized was only one man - pulled him out of the hole in the wall and made sure that he was going to choke on any blood.
The mercenary felt terrible. Entirely terrible. Not only was he in worse shape that he’d ever been in his entire life, but he couldn’t even tell how the rest of the fight was going. He could see through the hole in the wall decently enough, but his head was spinning so fast he couldn’t quite make tell what was happening. He thought he saw Duma lying on the ground. He hoped that that didn’t mean his teacher was dead. Duma had taken him under his wing, the green haired man was his friend and the only reason he’d lasted a second in this brutal fight. Not to mention that Perun was now fighting the Ilian Reaper on his own. Perun would survive. Nothing and no one could beat the Giant. Not when they were as wounded as that fire wielding braggart was. It was only a matter of time.
“Innkeep,” The mercenary whispered, “You need to go upstairs and tell Flynn that Amelia is hidden behind a tree a few paces into the forest. Out behind the outhouse —“ He started coughing again, which made him feel like he was being stabbed in the chest, but it was important that the mercenary upstairs knew what had happened to the girl. He was probably the only one who was going to be able to fetch her once the Giant slayed a Reaper.
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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 Oct 18, 2015 17:23:38 GMT -6
Perun leapt back away from a vicious swing from the Ilian's sword. It was a fine move, one that would have caught him off guard if he hadn't been confronted with similar techniques in his time in the valley. Not quite the same, but a similar attempt many swordsmen from the rival clans had used. They had used it often, but the orange giant had never lost an arm. As Perun jumped back toward the Reaper, he shouted, "Vy chuvstvuyete eto seychas? Schitayete li vy, strakh, chto prosachivayetsya v vashe serdtse, kak ten' polzuchey po zemle? Ya chto strakh. Znayte menya, ibo imya Moye Perun, Udar molnii!" The giant swung his axe in a harsh strike at the bounty hunter's shoulder. Before his blow connected, he sent his other hand out, quickly wrapping his fingers around the top of the other man's chest-plate.
Perun ripped his arm back, trying to take the plate off the man's chest. The Reaper had needed some supernatural force to make him stronger. Perun needed no such thing to prove he was the more powerful of the two. His body was still hot from the fire, covered in singed hair and sweat. His outsides boiled from the fire and the intensity of the battle. His insides boiled from the rage slowly boiling up inside him. He returned both hands to his axe. "Ya sobirayus' ubit' tebya sey-" The plain tongue, he needed to speak the plain tongue. His brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words in this stupid outside language to convey his hatred and contempt for the man in front of him. There were no words that he knew of for these people to convey the emotion. "Perun... killing coward." He advanced on the Ilian. Boiling.
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Post by Remus on Oct 19, 2015 12:18:23 GMT -6
Michael snarled as the colossal Ilian got ahold of him with those meaty arms. He'd spared with Garth a few times for fun, but this man was a bit wider to Garth's actual height. So as Perun gripped at his armor to lock him in place, Michael snarled angrily and attempted to restrain the large man's arm as he brought the ax down. However, with the Ilian Reaper using his injured arm to do so he could only prevent it from removing his arm. The man roared with rage and pain as the fiery brand of the injury exploded throughout his body. Instinctively, he lowered his other arm and tucked in his knees a bit. Every muscle within his thighs and calves straining to the point of nearly bursting while he bellowed out in fury and kicked the man away from him.
As Michael rolled backwards, he gripped at Chernabog while shifting his weight to his dominant leg. Fury bubbling within him, the Ilian mercenary lifted his blade and swept it as it ignited into flames. The blistering heat created a visual distortion all along the air around it; as if the air was wavering or dancing. Trails of embers cascaded outwards around the weapon like a series of fire flies trying to flee. Michael gazed with furrowed brows to Perun before snarling in response, sweeping his blade to send out a jet of flames infront of him before running towards the large Ilian. "I'll turn you to ashes before you get the chance!"
Relying heavily on his good leg, Michael actually side-stepped before getting into range of Perun, sweeping his blade left to right and moving back into range at his left side with his blade extended out. He would try to keep forcing the Ilian to fight on a non-dominant side and remove some of his initial strength advantage.
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Post by Duma on Oct 19, 2015 16:39:23 GMT -6
Duma could hear the fighting, but was unable to assist. His body was simply too tired.. too drained to even move. He tried to focus the majority of his attention into keeping himself conscious. But his vision was constantly shifting back and fourth between blurry vision and clarity to a point where it was starting to mess with his stomach. Or perhaps the nauseating sensation was due to the sheer exhaustion his body was experiencing. But he knew he couldn't pass out.. if he passed out he would be unable to wake up. He'd be useless dead weight. Not that his current state was any better.
He gripped the grass under his palms in an attempt to keep himself from falling. He could feel himself swaying to one side.. No damn it.. stay.. up. He gritted his teeth. Pain shot through his chest with each breath.. but he could feel his heart rate starting to slow down. He hadn't felt this badly drained since his encounter with the baels. At least now he could pull his head up to watch what was going on.
Perun had charged at the hero with the flaming sword in a blind rage. The orange haired man was the only thing standing between them and death. Duma knew that. And he wished he had enough strength in him to help The Orange Giant slay the man with the flaming sword. If he were in a better state of mind he would have compared the brawl between both beefy men to that of a battle of titans. You can do it Perun.. Silent cheering and watching was all he could do.
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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 Oct 22, 2015 20:40:32 GMT -6
Perun gritted his teeth as the Ilian killer came for him. He shouted, "YOU... CAN... TRY!" Then the giant set his feet. He didn't like going on the defensive, but the Reaper was quick. The taller of the two Ilians widened his feet as the other sped his against the ground. With the fierce swing of the Reaper's sword, Perun swung is axe in just such a way that it hooked the man's sword. The force of the swing however, brought Perun's own axe's haft against his shoulder. The angle at which he had tried to catch the blade was so that the sword managed to slice a bit into Perun's upper arm. The pain was immediate, and Perun felt like he was touching the sun. Every vein in his body carried the fire of the blade, making Perun feel his blood burned to black.
As he shoved his axe away, dragging the sword with it, blood dried at the surface of the wound almost immediately from the heat. As smoke rose from his shoulder, Perun could smell his flesh, and it smelled like pig roasted over a fire. The swordsman had control of his sword once more, and Perun struggled to lift his axe in another strike. He had fought so long, all of them had. Against such a powerful opponent. Maybe, had Remus been able to heal him, he'd have been able to go on. An angry voice rang in Perun's head, <If you stop, he'll kill them all. If you stop, he's stronger than Perun Volsungg of clan Volsungg.>
The bear of a man shoved himself inside of the swordsman's range. He'd felt the lick of the flaming blade once, he could stomach it again. He brought his left hand up to just under where the blade of his axe connected to the shaft. He swung an underhand blow towards the Reaper's stomach. Perun couldn't burn Michael. He could stand a blade biting into his skin until the other man lost the strength to fight. "NOT... ASHES YET... COWARD!"
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Post by Remus on Oct 26, 2015 10:10:17 GMT -6
This man. This overly meat-bag of a man! He was starting to get beneath Michael's skin in a way no other had. Perhaps it was the situation compounding it to make it so bad. It could've also been the fact that Michael hadn't been pushed this hard in years. The man's face had taken a slight tint of red as intense rage caused blood to rush, and a furious expression belittled the sheer rage within. If physical manifestations of anger were possible, the roaring eruption of a volcano would be the final noise any of these dirt devouring slugs would have the honor of hearing. His fingers had such a tight coil around Chernabogs hilt that his knuckles strained a pale ghostly white from the pressure. As the orange haired brute mumbled that last defiant phrase, Michael roared with unbridled savagery. His shoulders shifted forwards as he held his blade with both hands, thick sanguine drops cascading down from his wound as he forced himself beyond pain with raw anger. " ARRRRAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGG! I WILL BURN THE SKIN FROM YOUR BONES!" As if to emphasize, the blade that had been slowly dwindling down in flames fed off its masters rage. It answered only fury. It acknowledged, only fury. At the moment, that's all Michael had become. A beast of rage incarnate with unwavering hatred for that which stood before him. The males crimson hair rustled as the blades flames suddenly roared into a wild inferno so intense that even the blade became impossible to see in the abrasive light of the magic flames. His foot steps started slow. If any word had described him, it would've been menacing. There was a disbelief almost that his hatred hadn't caused the footsteps he made to brand with flames of rage as he closed the distance between himself and Perun. The veins along his wrists bulged, and a small vein along his forehead emphasized. Blood trailed from his shoulder, his though, and his wrist. His desire to kill this giant Ilian overwhelmed that, regardless. The quiet pat....pat....pat...pat of his steps began to quicken. The interval between each one shortening as he pumped his legs, shifting most of his weight to his good leg even while he roared with another violent shout. Perun was a monster, and his anger great. In that moment however, few had enough rage within them to match the Ilian Reaper. Michael shifted Chernabog within his palm as he approached Perun. As he lunged, he snarled and slammed his head forwards, actually kicking off to jump upwards and crash his skull into Peruns towards his nose. The man was covered in small burns. His body would be easier to daze for a time, even if just for a moment. However as he slammed his forehead into Perun, aiming to headbutt his nose he swept his blade and kicked backwards with his good leg to deny the Ilian a chance to lay hands on him. Rage. Unbridled Rage! I'll burn him. I'll burn him to ashes! I'LL BURN HIS VERY DAMNED SOUL!Chernabog exploded into an even greater coating of dancing orange flames before suddenly shifting in hue. A white core of intensity burned as Michael swept his blade sideways. His rage caused his tone to sound like nothing but sheer murderous intent. Every ounce of his being wanted this ilian dead. " BURN HIM, CHERNABOG!!" The flames of the blade rushed into a white orb of twisting conflagration that hurled towards Perun. Red, orange, and white spiraled into a single monstrous ball before exploding with intense force. However the control did not allow the blade to hold the sculpted shape for long. Before it could actually contact Perun it exploded into a blinding radiant blast that released tremendous force and searing heat. Unlike the pillar however, it did not maintain it. It would likely however send the giant crashing back through the hotel wall he'd thrown the younger boy. Michael was left snarling, scowling, and panting as he waited to see, what he expected; a charred corpse.
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Post by Donovan on Oct 27, 2015 19:35:03 GMT -6
The broken mercenary watched on as his closest friend do battle with the psychotic man he’d nearly died fighting. Unfortunately for the Reaper, Perun was a thunderstorm. And a storm cannot be stopped by any man, no matter how ruthless. Or, at least, that’s what the woozy mercenary was telling himself. He wished more than anything that he could stand. That he could help Perun face this pathetic murderer. Donovan wanted nothing more than to avenge Carter’s death. Too many people died to save Donovan’s life and he’d never been able to honor them. He’d never been able to avenge their death. Not for Henry. Not for his father. And now he wouldn’t be able to kill the bastard that had pushed all of his comrades to their absolute limits.
But it would be enough to watch as Perun wedged the cold steel of his axe into the Reaper’s thick skull.
The flames on Chernabog roared to life as Perun enraged the Reaper further. When that man finally fell, Donovan would take that cursed blade and have it melted down; even if it cost him a fortune. He heard the sound of feet rushing down the stairs and saw the glint of a silver sword. Flynn landed on the ground floor and rushed over toward Donovan, his expression taken aback by how badly his fellow mercenary seemed to have been broken. He knelt beside Don and the silver tongued mercenary managed to croak out, “Carter’s been killed. I don’t know if Duma or Remus are even alive. You need to help Perun.” Donovan felt a wave of heat wash over his face, and turned back to the fight with terror in his eyes. The fire along the demon sword’s blade burned white hot. Don knew what was coming next.
“PERUN GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!” The mercenary managed to cry out. His lungs screamed in agony and as he tried to breath back in, he felt nothing but complete and total pain. Overwhelming pain. But it was nothing compared to his terror of what shot from the Reaper’s blade.
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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 Oct 28, 2015 13:27:51 GMT -6
In the span of only moments, so much happened to the bear. Michael shouted something, rushed towards him, and crashed heads with him. Perun felt a ringing pain in every inch of his skull, but compared to other blows in this fight alone, it was nothing. Then he heard Donovan cry out, “PERUN GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!" Before the giant knew what hit him, a nova burst next to him. As heat engulfed his body, the great Ilian flew once more, however this time he flew not into a solid wall but through the hole created by his and Donovan's previous flight. His massive form bounced like fish out of water as it hit the ground, and Perun ended up on his stomach, blood rising in his throat. He could have closed his eyes, and fallen into a deep hibernation. There was no way after that Michael though he could still kill them all, surely. Besides, he probably assumed they were all dead anyway. From his odd vantage on the inn floor, Perun opened his eyes just a bit, dreamily staring through his heavy lids. He saw Flynn, the young swordsman kneeling next to Donovan. <S**t.> That meant that if Michael had the strength, Flynn would probably die. That wouldn't do. If anyone needed to die today, it couldn't be one so young. Still feeling the presence of the Reaper, Perun shifted his arms so that both of his fists were on the ground, realizing as he did so that the hair along his right arm had burned completely off. Wincing, and moaning in pain, Perun began to push his massive body up off the ground. It was harder than wrestling with Garth. In truth, he doubted he could lift the axe he had left on the ground as he was sent flying, and could probably be put down by a single blow from the Reaper. Dragging his feet, Perun turned around, each step a small war between his pride and his instincts. Fight or flight roared at each other from corners of the giants mind, and he knew which one was correct. He knew, but he chose to ignore it. If Perun Volsungg of clan Volsungg was to die, let it be on his feet, with one hand on a weapon, the other wrapped around his opponent's throat. As he slowly shifted his weight, panting as he went step by step towards the broken wall, he gathered his breath. He let out one last great bellow, "rrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" Chest still heaving, he bent down, and picked up a piece of splintered wood, his axe still too far away. Gripping the wood felt like he was dying, curling the fingers sending out a shockwave of pain. Still, this was the lot he had chosen.
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Post by Duma on Oct 28, 2015 16:24:06 GMT -6
Duma's eyes went wide as the great ball of flame exploded and blew Perun away. He could only stare as the blast sent the man he come to grow and trust as a comrade.. flying. Flying... FU*KING FLYING! He didn't know if the Illian Giant was alive or dead after that blast. But what he did know was that now.. He was the only warrior left. And he was still on his knees! He felt his body lurch backwards as he forced himself up onto one foot. Then slowly onto his other leg.. he was still in a strange.. squatting position with his hands still on the grass below him. He gripped the handle of his sword.. after one final push he finally pulled himself up and onto his feet. A wave of dizziness over took his head as he stood. He kept his gaze firmly on the ground as the dizzy passed, he knew if he closed his eyes he'd probably be back on the ground again.
He knew this man.. the man with the flaming sword was someone different.. someone powerful.. but he had no idea just how strong he was. He was enough to match their own giant. Duma took a quick glance back at Remus who seemed to show no signs of stirring. He then returned his gaze back to the man with the flaming sword. Duma pulled his sword up towards his chest and took a stance. He was feeling.. slightly more recuperated then he was five minutes ago. Perhaps it was the adrenaline kicking in.. or perhaps it was the fact that this man had possibly killed his friend. He knew he was in no condition to withstand a blow from that man.. let alone a blast from the magic sword. He thought it ironic.. that he was to die against a man with a magic blade... When as a child he managed to survive the magic that gave him the scar on his face. Duma knew.. that this was suicide... and yet.. he found himself smirking. If there wasn't pain in his chest he would probably be laughing right now.
And then there was a mighty roar from the building behind him. Duma breathed a small sigh of relief through his nose. Sounds like Perun escaped death. Ha! Ah.. Lets see if I can do the same. He had a chance too.. the man with the flaming sword was wounded.. exhausted.. and fueled by rage. The experienced swordsman knew he could take advantage of all three of those things.. especially the Hero's rage.. after all anger causes one to make mistakes. Duma in his strange state of happy and calm in the face of death.. can exploit those mistakes. He could put an end to this. I WILL put an end to this.
"Make your move, you bastard."
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Post by Remus on Oct 31, 2015 20:29:13 GMT -6
Michael didn't know what infuriated him more. Was he most livid towards the fact that the orange haired Ilian still would not stay the hell down ...or was he upset that the swordsman had started to rise? It was absolute nonsense. All of it! As his fury seemed to stretch to new levels, he felt the ever ravenous flames of Chernabog funneling that rage and hatred. The air hissed with a squeal of agonizing sound as it began to rush forwards towards the flame coated blade. White flames burning with the hot fury of a sun surrounded Michaels weapon. His bloodshot gaze darted from Perun to Duma, as if eyeing over which one was worthy of dying first The swordsman looked healthier. Shaken, but alive. The muscle bound Ilian would be easiest to kill. He made slow steps. Pained steps. Perhaps...
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In the dark swirling mix of sleep and death, a definitive line teetered. The realm of those lingering in a lapse of consciousness. The sapphire haired priest found this line a perfect fit. For not the first time, his own exertions to help others had dragged him to this familiar place. With his cheek firmly pressed to the now slightly heated dirt, he had lay without the slightest sign of stirring. Internally he was blank. Seemingly devoid of any aspect resembling cognitive existence. Yet...something existed. Something did infact begin to stir. A sound. A soft sound. Distant. As if from far away. Like a shout. Then feeling. Warmth. Though while most warmth brought joy and drowsiness in pleasant environments...this did not. It brought dread. The priests brow furrowed as he began to rouse. Something felt wrong. So very, very wrong. Most likely out of sight, with all eyes on Michael, the Etrurian priest started to rouse.
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It was the roar. That defiant sound was the single thing was the key. That was Michaels outlet. That which he would direct his rage ultimately. A towering inferno of blistering white heat surrounded his blade as he lifted it. The hot air caused his skin to dry, small cut like cracks along his lips splitting open from the intensity of it while he inhaled sharply. Boiling air stung his lungs before he shouted back towards Perun and Duma. Michaels roar audible even over the hissing sound of his blade accumulating further heat. "ARRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHHHHHHH!"
It was obvious. Someone, or both of them, was about to die. Fatigue ate at him, but Michael could not.. would not let this farce continue. They would die. By HIS blade.
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Remus felt his pulse quicken. Every hair on his body stood on end as he swiftly rose to his feet with his staff almost instantly rising to push himself off the ground and better support his weight. Weariness had left him as his body recuperated from the strain of the healing prior. It was all coming back to him. Amelia. The abductors. All of it. That was when Remus saw Michael's blade. The white flames were different than before...but he remembered what the weapon could do. He also saw Michael's blade move as the Ilian Reaper pointed his blade towards Perun. The priest felt his heart hammer in his chest. Every moment, every passing second seemed to slow briefly as his mind instinctively raced through options. His barrier magic had taken so much out of him before hand. It had been hard to maintain that small shell. There was no way he could...or...could he? It had been hard but...if attempted with a form that gave greater stability..
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A jet of white flames spewed from Michaels weapon. A huge torrent that could spread out like a cone, in a way that would've caught both Perun, and Duma as the man vented his hatred directly into his weapon. It was in that moment that he saw a flash of blue, and the priest now standing. The healer was standing!?
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Remus tried with every ounce of willpower to create it. His entire being became one single thought. One desire. One internal voice screaming allowed with all of his soul. Shield. He was unwilling to let this hurt his friends. The priests staff released a blinding pulse of blue light from behind Perun and Duma, as a large dome like half bubble sprouted from the ground itself to make a semi-sphere around Perun, Remus, and Duma. Everything turned a shade further pale as the oppressive radiance of light emanating from the barrier began to assert itself. The blue magical energy radiated with pure essence, and the white flames clashed against it only to be dissipated by the protective bubble. The priest grunted, and lifted his staff higher as he continued to maintain the protective shell for as long as possible. The torrent of flames was not a singular jet, but a stream. It battered and washed against the priests magic only to find itself unable to damage the shield. The pristine dome held true until a few seconds had passed. Just as the last of the white flames found themselves halted to its shape, the priests barrier gave out.
However, everyone had managed to be entirely shielded from the barrier magics. Remus panted, but smiled happily at the sight of safe friends. This smile faded abruptly however as he lifted his staff into the air once more. A ruby shade took to the gem within the top of his stave, before blue light bathed outwards. No words. None were needed. His friends were injured. Especially Perun. Remus channeled the essence of the fortify magic through his staff; a colossal blue bubble of light pulsating outwards in waves as the warmth of healing magic bathed over all three injured members. Donovan, Perun, and Duma. Though not perfect, they would surely fix the wounds that had held them at bay. Motion, caught the priests eye.
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Damnit. Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, DAMNIT . Michael snarled in disgust as the barrier halted his weapons attack. Never, had he seen someone blatantly halt Chernabogs flames. He knew what would come next. Priests..bah..and he couldn't have killed this one even if he would've wanted! No..there was only one thing he could do. There was a chance lingering that he could kill one or two before they were fully healed. However it was unlikely. Very, very unlikely. Not with him being unable to put the healer down. He'd have to retreat for now. Hunt him when he was alone. Isolated. That, or with less guards to help him. Michael turned around abruptly, inhaling deeply to prepare himself before suddenly sprinting with inhuman speed towards the inn they'd been settling in. It was as if he moved in long leaps and lunges instead of normal strides. Michael: Celerity used. In the blink of an eye, the trailing wisps of a flaming blade was all that could be seen while the reaper vanished; until a moment later a horse came spurring around an alley way and off into the distance with the reaper riding upon it, blade sheathed at his hip.
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The priest felt relieved to see the man fleeing. However, as a healer, his single priority was tending his friends wounds. Major wounds would swiftly rejuvinate themselves, knitting back together as sundered meat and flesh was magically repaired and bleeding halted. Remus held this, knowing that things would be far better than they could've. A friend was indeed lost...but given the outcome...part of him was simply glad everyone else had lived.
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Post by Donovan on Nov 1, 2015 9:47:30 GMT -6
The next few moments of Donovan’s life were harrowing. First Perun was knocked into the Inn, again, with a blow that would have killed any lesser man. But the giant rose once more, to stand in between his friends and death as rose the swordmaster. Duma had managed to recover enough to stand as well. Perhaps, maybe they stoop a chance. Then the Fire came to engulf them all. Donovan had not noticed the Preacher had awoken as well, and the beautiful blue light of Barrier completely blocked the fire from reaching his friends and eviscerating them. The shield spell was quickly followed by a pulse of blue light, which washed over Donovan like a warm breeze. He could feel bones begin to mend, his back still sore, but no longer broken. Flynn offered him a hand, and Donovan took it, glad to be able to stand even if he was so exhausted. He picked up the Sacaen blade and turned around, expecting to face another round with the bastard that had killed Carter.
But the coward had fled. Shaking his head, Donovan felt a laugh escape his lungs. It was full and rich and full of relief. They’d survived. Perun and Duma and Remus and the kids, they’d all made it out with their lives. Don turned around and looked over to his Giant friend, “I can’t believe that black hearted cretan ran like such a craven. I didn’t even get to say my witty last line,” The silver tongued mercenary dropped his voice to a gravel, “‘I was right. My gods want you to shut the hell up, you f***cking diva.’ Imagine how mad he would have gotten!” The silver tongued mercenary laughed again, which caused pain to ripple down from his still healing ribs. “On second thought, maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t get the last word in.”
Donovan realized that it might be a good idea to take a seat until Remus could patch him up more. He limped over to a still intact table and chair, and sat down gingerly, laying the sword on the table. “Hey, Innkeep! Can I get a tumbler of whiskey over here? I am in… excruciating pain. Flynn, Grab Amelia, she’s behind a tree near the outhouse.” He closed his eyes and waited, hoping that he’d have a few moments of peace. A whiskey was placed in front of him, which he downed with his eyes closed, before taking a coin out of his pocket and placing it on the table. He slipped quietly into sleep his body finally feeling the after effects of the adrenaline that had been keeping him going. There was a time to figure out what just happened, but for our Silver Tongued Mercenary, now was the time to recover.
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Post by Duma on Nov 1, 2015 13:10:43 GMT -6
And there it was... the hero with the flaming sword had conjured up a fire so great that it would no doubt kill him and Perun. He summoned a fire so large.. I Ha.. I cannot dodge.. or run from it. Ah! HA! Then This is it.. As the raging inferno drew closer Duma raised his sword arm up in a defensive position. He knew it was useless, he knew the fire would kill him, burn him to cinders, he knew this and yet.. it was hard to fight that instinct to defend himself. He would look back at this moment later on in his life.. maybe even crack a joke about dying in a true blaze of glory. He heard a light shuffle behind him but did not turn to look. And just as he was to close his eyes and accept his fate there was a light. A blue hued, nearly translucent light, that seemed to form a dome. A wall of light that spared the swordsman from the flames. And then suddenly it vanished, just as the last of the flames had finished their whirl. Another light shone and passed through the swordsman it felt warm and inviting. He could feel his fatigue start to diminish. The pain in his throat from the choking start to ebb away into something akin to an itch. Well It's about time Sleeping Beauty woke up!
The soft grin from before faded away as he waited for his opportunity to strike. He just needed to wait till the last of the smoke cleared then he would charge and put an end to this man. He swiftly moved his arm back into an offensive stance and prepared himself for the attack. He dashed forward only for the hero to dash away. Quickly. Very Quickly. Duma already figured it was some kind of skill in a similar fashion to his own. And Just like that.. the man was gone. Duma managed to catch sight of his backside atop a horse as it galloped off. From the corner of his eye he could see the familiar shape of Donny slowly pick himself up off the floor. And Perun.. standing.. somehow.
He could see the tuft of red hair that was Flynn running off towards the woods to grab Amelia. Which was fine by him.. they were safe. The kids were safe.. Donny and Perun were still alive. He was still alive. The priest was still alive. Their.. enemy.. was still alive. And then Duma's mood shifted from relieved to sour. He was going to have a chat with the healer once everyone had a chance to recuperate. Duma took a deep breath in then let it out in a long sigh. The swordsman kept his neutral composure, walked over to the priest, grabbed him by the arm, and quietly led the man back towards the inn.
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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 Nov 3, 2015 17:59:10 GMT -6
Once more, the fire roared towards Perun. The giant closed his eyes as the flame grew larger and came to engulf him. <Mokosh. Krasota. I do not wish to die, but if I must, at least I'll see you.> Perun was shocked. He had admitted to himself that he wanted to live. To go on, and spend more days fighting next to Donovan and his other companions, to protect others, to get coin, or merely because he liked fighting. To spend his nights drinking and singing, laughing and crying. To actually be alive. It was funny, that it took staring into his death to see that he still longed for life. It was funny enough that a toothy grin erupted on the massive man's face as the heat of the fire encompassed him.
Then the heat stopped, and Perun was unharmed. Upon opening his eyes, he saw that Remus had risen, and created another protective force around the dancer and the giant. After a few seconds, the healing began, and while Perun was still in an immense pain, he felt as though he could keep fighting if he must. Good, his smile had not faded, now it was a smile at the thought of picking up his axe and cracking open the flame spewing madman's skull. However, by the time the fire had died, and the smoke had cleared, the man was fleeing like the coward he was. Duma tried to give chase, but the man ran harder than Perun could believe. Perun immediately let the splintered wood fall from his hand. It was over.
He then turned and hurried over to Donovan, wincing at every step. He scooped his friend up in his arms and gave him the softest bear hug he could. Still boiling at the man running away, Perun whispered, "Duno-van... being... okay?"
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Post by Remus on Nov 5, 2015 16:21:17 GMT -6
There was no emotion within Remus beyond absolute relief. An unsupportable joy that gave him the widest grin he'd felt form upon his lips in what was likely many months. In the back of his mind, he knew that carter was to be mourned; but everyone else as alive. Donovan was safe. Perun was safe. Duma was safe. Flynn was safe. Owain was safe. He wouldn't have known for sure about little Amelia, but as his eyes scanned anxiously to see a hint as to her person, he saw the crimson haired mercenary from Sacae slowly striding back with the girl in his arms. He was certain that Amelia was unconscious, but she looked so..blissfully peaceful in that state. The word harmless came to mind, but he'd dare not tempt the spirits and the wrath they might bring for associating the harbinger herself as anything similar to harmless. Cute would do. She looked cute, in the intense slumber that she was.
Remus had only stemmed the tide of radiant blue magic when he saw everyone standing. He would provide individual first-aid soon to ensure broken bones and damaged organs were not a danger to anyone. The priest chuckled warmly, seeing the large ilian bear known as Perun approach Donovan. Duma approached the priest himself, and as Duma grabbed him by the arm the priest smiled up brightly being led by the man. Though confused, the priest followed. "Ah...I appreciate your concern but I'm able to walk I assure you Duma. Thank you though I-"
The priest was cut off as he found himself stationary despite Duma's light tug. The small figure of a young boy had abruptly wandered over and was now hugging the priest tightly. Owain. The boy was quiet, as usual, and when he felt the priests hand lightly ruffle his hair the boy spoke through a soft muffled voice. "I know about Mr Carter...me and Flynn were watching from the window upstairs..."
The priest sighed quietly, and leaned down to pat Owain's shoulder while bringing himself eye level to the boy with a kneeling poise. He gazed at the orphan a moment longer before the priest hugged him again tightly, pressing the boy's face to his shoulder while quietly speaking. "Shh..We'll talk about Mr. Carter soon. For now, just be glad we are all safe and alive. Yes? Now, be a good boy and help Flynn take Amelia to the bedrooms. Okay?"
The priest stood up as the boy ran off, huffing a bit and walking over to Donovan. Perun was already there, but both were far worse off than Duma. Remus chuckled a bit before gazing at both men brightly. "Gentlemen...how about letting me take a look at those wounds, yes?"
[End Thread]
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