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Post by Vincent on Aug 25, 2017 13:17:09 GMT -6
OOC: Going forward we will not wait for Sigma but should he return he is free to hop back into the turn order. That said turn order has been messed up a bit so we will work in rounds instead of turns.
When Mila started talking she had a real treasure trove of knowledge to go around. Drake simply could not keep pace with everything she had to say, he did however manage to catch on to the more pivotal details. But in short he needed to focus on what she was asking him for in the moment. Before he could address all of this directly Althea then spoke up. She gave her name and told them of her talents and... Drake's face turned cold and distant the moment she mentioned the idea of an intelligent force leading them. He stammered over his words a moment before speaking up.
"W-we have had that as a theory ourselves for a while now... well, some of us anyway. When you see them in action it seems so random but if you track the movements on a map it seems so much more..." Drake rubbed at his face needing to compose himself, "Forgive me, your speculation hit me harder than I was ready for."
Vincent crossed his arms and spoke again, "Its speculation and theory still, right? Can't say I don't believe in the possibility but let's not dwell on it until we all survive the night, yeah?" Drake slowly nodded before voicing a weak agreement. Even those that were bravely ready to fight were on the edge of retreating deep down, their primal fears were gripping at their hearts. Vincent found himself unable to hold their gazes. If he flashed around his sword like a holy beacon could he instill courage? Maybe, but he did not want them to try and make him a leader, leave that to Mila...
Recomposed Drake continued, "Let's walk and talk. We need to get to the tavern so we can inform everyone at once. I have faith Carl will have sent the word but the more they hear from the horse's mouth the better." He began to lead the way and Vincent shrugged before following. "Oh, Carl is the blond guy that just left," he clarified. "You asked about what we have, most of our defenses were meant for bandits and even more its old. We have an old store full of materials but very few weapons of silver," he thought a bit, "The walls are ten feet tall, what towers there are are twenty. We have a map in the tavern... it... uh... it has a few holes in it."
The way he hesitated caught Vincent's attention, "Holes? What kind of holes?"
"Ones from angry knife stabs..." he tried to offer a nervous chuckle. So these men were wholly divided and angrier than he thought. "I fear we have no trained archers, as soldiers are concerned anyway, but we do have the local hunters that have stayed around. They're good, old man Tom is as good a shot as any I'd ever seen and he fears no fear of these spiders at least. If we need fire we have stores of oil we used for winter and at times clearing out portions of the forest so we won't be found wanting for flames." He assured them.
When the group reached the tavern they could hear the commotion inside. "We, tried to keep this away from you all but you're here as much as us and well... you seem to be the ones that know what is going on. So..." he opened the tavern door and immediately evaded a mug. Two men were fighting inside, Carl and some older fellow. The two had each other by their collars and were rolling over tables and knocking down chairs.
"Get off of me you old dastard!" Carl wheezed as his collar was pulled closed around his throat. The old man had him pinned on the ground and mounted over him.
"Tom!" Drake shouted. The others in the tavern had taken to the walls to watch and shout at each other.
“I found this one packing up a cart in secret! He was taking things from the storerooms and planning to get out of here!” Tom was furiously shouting. It was painfully evident that something needed to be done.
Vincent rushed in then and grabbed old man Tom, ripping him off of Carl before he suffocated Carl. The man angrily rounded on the hero throwing a fist at him. Mostly reactionary but still meaning harm. Vincent in turn evaded the fist and grabbed him by the wrist, twisting his body before throwing him to the ground. Placing his knee into the old man’s back and arm, he then shouted. “ENOUGH OF THIS!!!”
Carl choked down the air as he returned to his feet and brushed himself off. “Is it true!?” Drake asked, both hurt and angry.
“I don’t care! If it is true, then let him go!” Vincent shouted. “If you do not wish to stay and fight then leave! Guard the convoy of refugees! We have scarcely the time or the resources to waste them in conflict amongst ourselves!” The militia men fell silent aside from murmuring amongst themselves and casting dirty looks at each other.
Blast! He did not want to highlight himself in all of this, but someone needs to quell the masses. Vincent held the old man down still but he looked to Mila, then the others. “I know this is your town. I know no one knows what they should do, what is right, and what is wrong.” He removed his knee from the man and stood offering him a hand up.
Vincent shook his head. “I wanted to let you all lead yourselves in a mission that meant something. To defend and protect your homes but it’s clear you will tear yourselves apart and this village will become just the next in a long line of casualties.”
“I do not expect any of you to know who I am, or to care about any of us, but you must know this: I was there at the attack on The City of Heroes. I saw men and women from all over, different backgrounds, codes, and creeds came together to fight. Do you want to know why? Because we knew that fight was bigger than us, bigger than any one nation or man.”
“And what does that have to do with us!?” One of the militia asked. It was less a challenge and more confusion.
In turn Vincent nodded and continued, “This fight we are about to face is bigger than us. It is bigger than all of us. The nobility has yet to realize this, and other nations are locked in wars in such a way we cannot rely on them for reinforcements. Ostia, ALL OF OSTIA has fallen to these monstrosities already and Tuscana will be next if we don’t take a stand now. This fight is not about the town, it is about all of Lycia, and it’s about all of Elibe. If we win here, we don’t just hold back the tide another day. WE SEND A MESSAGE!!! We send a message to all of Elibe and to the nobility that has chosen to hide in their towers. We will show them what just a few men and women can do and that this fight can be won.”
He turned to Carl and patted him on both shoulders, “Flee if you want to. But use this to protect the villagers, but if you want to make a greater difference in this fight, for the world, then stay and fight with us. There is work to be done and we will need cooperation of all of us to make things work right. Mila will have more details on the stratagems to be employed.” He stepped back against the wall then.
Drake hesitated as a silence filled the room but moved to the slightly torn, and now crumpled map. “Mila, this is the map you requested.” He smiled nervously.
Now what was that boy? Phoenix Heart inquired.
‘I don’t know… just happened.’
I liked it… showed some strong will there… I just hope the crowd is receptive.
Carl’s shoulders slumped and his head hung low into his chest in silence. “Okay… w-what do we do?” He looked to Mila. His fingers shook violently in fear but whether shame or Vincent’s speech convinced him to stay he would not say.
The map itself had circles around the location of each fallen village. "Numbers are effectively limitless for these beasts and... each village has become a nest... its like they know they were meant to be lived in." Drake commented as he handed the map over.
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Post by Mila on Aug 27, 2017 14:47:18 GMT -6
Mila tilted her head a bit to the response the light haired shaman gave. It was rare for her to meet anyone else who knew about monsters from a researchers standpoint.
"Nice to meet you Althea. If we both survive this with out being horribly maimed. I'd like to compare notes." And then she realized how ironic it was that she's meeting a second shaman with light white hair. She'd remember to be amused at that coincidence later right now they had work to do.
"A hive." She thought on the word for a while.
"Most of my experience with these things come from singular baels.. or small groups of them that have already broken away from the main pack. If they are.. acting like a hive.. then there must be a brood mother somewhere in their territory. That.. raises both problems.. and more questions." She shook her head.
"I'll think on that later though. Ten feet walls.. twenty feet towers.." She walked and thought. SHe had a feeling this place didn't have much in the way of silver weapons but that didn't matter much. If they had iron or steel they could better defend themselves then with leather padding.
"Any hunters with should take posts up on the towers." She spoke in between conversations. When they arrived in the tavern she had hoped to sit down and get a drink. If she was going to plan out some sort of defense strategy then she would need to keep herself hydrated. But, of course things rarely ever go as planned. Upon entering the tavern they were greeted with a sorry sight. A man who had been caught packing a wagon in secret and trying to hightail it out of here. Mila didn't blame him. Even with the mage's intelligence she could not see a logical way of winning this. There were too many spiders and not enough people. Not enough supplies. But, Thankfully Vincent took the initiative and quelled the tension. Something Mila couldn't do. She lacked that sort of "presence" heroes had. And come to think of it, Vincent had come a long way since their first encounter. Mila gave a nod to Drake and took the map.
The sage threw the map on the nearest empty table and grabbed a pencil from her bag. She studied the map for a while then drew lines in between the fallen villages. And she did not like what she saw. The pattern made on the page made her uneasy. They weren't just moving, breeding, and nesting. They were coordinating. And if she thought correctly the brood mother or perhaps several brood mothers must be somewhere in the center of all this mess. The further the baels moved into Lyica the more she realized the brood mother would move along with them. Eventually they would spread into Araphen and Khathelet. She shook her head.
"We have to make a stand here. If we fall the monsters gain a new foot hold into Lycia. But, if we succeed.. we might be able to use this village as a base for reinforcements." Her fingers trailed along the lines of the map. She could see a pattern, a pattern that could be disrupted with enough man power. But that would have to be for the future. Right now she needed to focus on the village.
"They will strike in droves for maximum devastation. Scouts first. Infantry second. And bigguns for last. So, we will have ration what we have for the appropriate drove. First thing's first we need to gather as many able bodied people as we can. And I need to to get to work on those walls. The magic is incredibly taxing to the body. So once that is done, I will be out of commission until nightfall. Somebody please wake me up before nightfall so I can prepare myself." She let out a deep sigh.
"Group Division should be.. one group to gather as many supplies as we can and begin arming and training the men and women we have. Another group to start setting up the fire traps and barricades. Another group to ensure that there are no more evacuees left in the village."
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Post by Althea on Sept 11, 2017 20:21:11 GMT -6
There certainly seemed to be a lot of bruised egos and angry individuals. Althea - was aware that she was not exactly a normal human. She hadn't been one even before Ereshkigal's appearance. She thought too much and thought too little of others; focused on rationality and result, she all too often misunderstood or simply failed to recognize the flow and effect of emotion as it influenced others. But even so, it still seemed like an incredibly inefficient and outright suicidal way to live, fighting amongst each other with the last moments of life they had remaining before the skittering tide swallowed them all whole.
Maybe she should have asked Ereshkigal for help. The Nether spirit certainly would have jumped at the idea of a fight, and her firepower would have been quite useful here. But Althea herself was not immune to emotion, particularly her inordinate and unending stubbornness, and she wanted to deal with this herself. Rather than reducing her counterpart to mere muscle. Rather than admitting that she herself was useless without an overpowered and even more emotionally unbalanced guardian angel. An even smarter thing to do would be to just leave now. But she didn't. Apparently Ereshkigal didn't have a premium on bad ideas.
...The thought nearly drew a small smile out of the dark mage, but she quashed it much like she crushed anything else that would open herself to others.
At any rate, the swordsman - she hadn't caught his name yet - helpfully ended the clash between idiots and gave a nice little speech. Hit a lot of the correct notes for a generic inspirational speech. We're all in this together, an important fight, sending a message, so on and so forth. Her relentlessly judgmental side didn't allow her to be carried away too much by it. Though the thought was interesting. Fighting for something bigger than yourself. Althea had... never really considered it that much. She had never been much of a fighter at all, and even now it was hard to think of herself as a mage before she was a researcher. She certainly seemed to be doing a wonderful job of being dragged into situations far larger than herself, though. The Bonewalker assault on the caravan. The village Ereshkigal had defended. The pirate raid. Kicking and screaming, she seemed to be getting dragged into a lot of fights and trying to protect others in the process.
And now, here she was. Risking her life for something she claimed not to believe in. Althea was entirely uncertain what to make of it, but she definitely didn't care for it.
Everyone else seemed to have plans within plans, tactics and strategy. Althea didn't think much of herself in that regard. She had helped lead others a few times, but she was not blind to her complete lack of charisma. She would have to contribute SOMETHING though. Beyond just the occasional bit of snark. Apparently no one had particularly cared for the assassination idea. Hm. "I will reserve my magic for the battle itself," she began, perfunctory in her absolute statement, "but when the time comes can serve as bombardment or for purposes of precision as appropriate. A raised position would be ideal to aim my magical assault. In the meantime. I would likely be most efficiently used gathering evacuees."
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Post by Vincent on Oct 19, 2017 18:58:09 GMT -6
[Everyone can make a post about how they spend their preparation time here and then use supports for any important interactions. That way we can go right into the attack at night from here.]
Mila had a very decided and planned out roll, Althea would aid with the evacuees, that just left the supply gathering and training up those they could in the short window they have. The hunters spoke up about the supplies, according to them they have spent long enough in the woods to know exactly what they needed to gather to maximize their efforts. "I guess I will help with the training efforts." Vincent accepted. Looking to Althea he added, "If any of the evacuees want to fight could you send them to me. I will be by the fountain."
As the groups broke apart to tend to their decided upon business Vincent lead the ill prepared to follow him. They went to the weapon stores and chose what would fit them best. There was no time to worry about what a youth wanted to look heroic vs what would be most efficient. There were too few swords to go around for how many youths wanted one. Once they were armed Vincent began to run them through drills. His instruction was light in order to keep them from wearing themselves out before nightfall. Equally it was focused upon defeating strictly baels, he saw no purpose in training for combatant to combatant combat. At least not yet.
Vincent appreciated the aid of the militia that had more experience teaching. With their help they could translate his lessons on bael combat to the young ones. As the day drew on things began to fall into place enough Vincent felt confident but with the passing of the sun so too did despair begin to seep in to many.
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Post by Mila on Oct 27, 2017 19:44:17 GMT -6
With the groups divided and their tasks delegated, Mila took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. She needed to calm herself and let the anxiety of the last few minutes leave her. She knew everybody was on edge. This was a possible village ending and Lycian ending spider invasion. And there was a good chance that a lot of the people in this room might not make it back out alive. Herself included. That sent a shiver down her spine, the thought of death. Or rather the thought of what would become of her body after death. She disliked the idea of being buried underground both dead and alive. Not the time for this Mila. Focus.
The sage requested that someone lead her to the walls in question. Mila looked up at them from the base then she made her way up a tower and took a look at the walls from above. She made a few mental calculations then made her way down onto the wall itself. She carefully leaned over the wall's edge to get both an eye-level view and a downside view. The walls themselves weren't in terrible shape. Sure they were old. But, they were sturdy. She made her way back towards the tower. The green haired sage pulled out her Gaea tome and focused. She had an idea of what she wanted to do with the wall, but she needed to test how the wall reacted to her magic. She picked a loose brick that had been left in the tower and used it as her test subject.
"Let's do a simple fluidity test." Mila spoke to herself. She focused her magic on the brick. She wanted to change the brick's shape. She pulled her hand out in front of her and slowly tried to move the brick. She found it difficult to morph the stone's shape. She realized she needed to put a tad more oomph in her craft. A solid stone was a harder to bend to once's will then say mud or sand. She focused until the stone morphed from a brick-shaped block of stone to a cone. Which then promptly cracked in half vertically. Too much oomph. Mila grabbed another brick and tried again. She went through several bricks before she figured out the right force to use.
Mila then went to work on the wall. She made a mental grid of where she wanted spikes. She reinforced the top end of the walls with thin long arrow headed spikes. She then reinforced the wall part of the walls, the side that would face the invading force, with hook-like projectiles. These downward facing hooks were sharp on both ends. And she hoped the hooks would grip and rip through the spider's bodies as they made their way up the wall. The sharp top ends would make it difficult for the baels to put their legs on. At least she hoped that's how it would work.
She put her book away and collapsed onto her knees. She could feel a tingling sensation on her hands and toe tips. Yep. Overdid it. She mused to herself as she took hard breaths in. That breath came out as some sort of ragged horse like a cough. A volunteer helped her back up onto her feet and she was led into a room with a cot to rest. An hour before nightfall she woke up. She had a light meal as well as some water. She wrote up a quick letter and stuffed it into her bag. A letter to be delivered to her family in Eturia should she die this night. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and nodded. This is it. She made her way out towards Vincent and the others.
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dimino
Soldier
Posts: 37
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Dimino
OoC Alias: Fargus
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Post by dimino on Oct 27, 2017 22:11:46 GMT -6
Dimino lifted his hand as he felt his trusty lance and shield on his back. He knew not if he would make it out of this ordeal alive. But he knew one thing: He would not leave this place to let the people die to monsters, in his tribe, a true and honorable warrior would fight until the very end regardless of how bad the odds were.
To pass the time, Dimino decided to observe the layout of the town. If their plan did work out well and everyone fought bravely, the town and the inhabitants just might be able to live for another day. He then took his hand and lifted his lance as he looked around. Soon the now quiet defended town will be filled with the sounds of combat...along with many dead corpses. "My power is but only comparable to a childs when compared to many of the other warriors that are risking their lives here, but I still must do my part. As a true warrior of my tribe, I will fight and live" he said. He then mumbled to himself saying in his language "I lónchi mou boreí na pései símera, allá to pnévma mou tha synechísei na pigaínei akóma ki an petháno. Sto ónoma tis fylís mou kai tou laoú aftís tis pólis, den tha xekourastó méchri na skototheí káthe éna téras pou tolmá na apeilísei tin eiríni aftís tis gis ..."
As he watched Vincent train many of the men in the town to fight the oncoming assult, he couldn't help but feel inspired by him. "I may not have the Giraiá Lans to help in this fight, but I will still do my part to assist in whatever needs to be done" he said mainly to himself as he continued to steel himself for the upcoming assault.
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Sigma
Thief
Does anybody care about intelligence work anymore?
Posts: 151
Profession: Spy/Information Broker
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Sigma
OoC Alias: Sigma
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Post by Sigma on Nov 12, 2017 22:09:45 GMT -6
OOC: I'm finally ready to get back in! (also so sorry about dropping out)
P.S. This post has been edited as asked by the mods
Well... This certainly wasn't the time for witty comments anymore. As Mila explained the situation they were in and how the spiders were most likely being coordinated by a brood mother (whatever that may be, but it sure didn't sound comforting) or even maybe more. They had the day to prepare until the baels would come. Sigma honestly felt his legs buckle from the stress. It just... Felt more real now. He was seriously fearing not making it out of there alive.
He wasn't a hardened monster slayer! Not even a great fighter in general! What was he to do against giant venomous spiders? Walking back to where they were earlier on the ramparts, Sigma continued to contemplate his situation. How could he make himself useful? He didn't have thick armor like that soldier nor weapons the likes of Vincent's... He feared he might not even be able to properly pierce their skin to cause good damage... Hmm, this was certainly a conundrum.
Walking outside, he saw one of the guards doing what he could only guess was inventory of the equipment. Curious, he went and asked the man: "So? How are we doing in terms of weapons? We got enough oil to create those bonfires outside the gate?"
He didn't respond at first, mumbling mathematical equations before actually acknowledging Sigma's presence, he looked stressed and in a foul mood, though that was to be expected with the situation. "Barely. Everyone at least has a weapon, though most aren't in great shape. Really, the problem is our lack of bows... Not only do we need bows to fight the spiders, we also need some to just light the wood on fire..."
"Well... Wouldn't making makeshift bows work for that purpose? I doubt they'd very strong, but at least they could carry the arrows. That way you can spare the real bows to the more experienced archers who can themselves focus on the baels!"
He blinked. "Hmm, that's... Actually not a bad idea. Not really the best, but hell I'll take anything at this point. If you could round up some people, we'll get started on making them. I'll go get someone to teach you all."
Thanking him as he jogged off, Sigma did the same, a smile appearing on his face. Heh, wasn't a whole lot, but as they say: it's with copper coins that you make gold ones."
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Post by Althea on Nov 17, 2017 2:46:01 GMT -6
...And just like that, they were all back to their own devices, each member of the motley crew wandering off Elimine knew where, no supervision, no real planning, just a group of wannabe heroes disbanding to each help in their own way. Althea couldn't tell if she thought it was very noble or very stupid. Inefficient regardless, that much was certain. It was hard to judge too much given that she was involved in all this too, though, and besides, who WOULD she blame? None of them were born leaders it seemed. They all just... wanted to do the right thing.
She... wasn't very experienced with this 'just doing the right thing,' uh, thing. The whole thing still made her feel queasy to her stomach and remarkably like turning around and walking the f**k out of there. But it was an interesting idea. That even mere wanderers and adventurers, mercenaries and sellswords, researchers and thieves, COULD band together to try and save a village. Time would tell if they actually succeeded.
And yet - she wandered off anyways as the group dissipated, searching for what semblance of evacuation efforts actually existed. It was... well, it was a bit of a mess, to be honest. A few militia members here and there trying to help, but no real order. No true planning. Evacuees moving in random, inefficient flows. Stressed. Terrified. She had to hold back the urge to bitch slap some sense into the cretins and instead opted to recruit one of the nearby militiamen, a younger man who was perhaps even further out of his depth than the people here (or her - the irony did not escape her) and directed him to aid a particularly distraught family whose wagon had sunk into the mud, partially blocking the road. It took three more men, two of them villagers, to actually get the bloody thing moving again, but one of them stuck around to help out afterward.
Althea was no miracle worker - there was no orderly, happy little process in the next twenty minutes, nor in the hour. In fact, it never actually happened; terrified refugees, getting progressively more and more stressed as time passed and the imminent Bael assault drew closer, were not particularly reasonable. They were not rational actors, either, which played havoc wih her plans at times.
But she persisted, and slowly recruiting, in some cases browbeating, militiamen and willing villagers into aiding in dealing with the congestion. Sweeping houses to make sure people were out. Aiding people, animals, wagons in navigating the blockades as the defending forces and the newfound heroes worked to erect them. Reuniting families who were too f**k**g stupid to stick together in the first place. It was an interesting experience, and more than once Althea found it exceptionally difficult to not bitch slap people for being complete fools in the eve of disaster. She couldn't tell how much of it was Ereshkigal's destabilizing influence - the spirit asleep, her emotions bled over stronger and stronger into Althea's own mind - and how much of it was just proof that the dour shaman should never, EVER be anywhere near a leadership position again.
There... weren't many men to send to Vincent. Some of those that were, she retained for her own use, to help as many escape as possible. Even if she died here, even if all the fool heroes did, that didn't mean that everyone else did too. But Althea did make an attempt to recruit those willing, and some of the more obviously green militiamen who clearly needed the training, to the more experienced (she hoped) swordsman; she didn't know who he was or what he was capable of, after all.
-But at least she hadn't wasted any magic in the process, and while Ereshkigal's sleep was fitful, and she herself was somewhat on the edge after all that, Althea felt somewhat... good as dusk slowly consumed the world around them. The evacuation had more or less completed save for a small trickle of people leaving. Some who had spent too long packing. Some who had been too stupid or stubborn to join her relentless framework of efficiency.
Some had stayed til the end to help others, unable or unwilling to fight and yet still brave enough to risk their lives to aid others. Those were the ones that made her feel a little ashamed of herself. Althea could fight. In the worst case scenario, she could unleash Ereshkigal. She... had seen what that power could do to men, buildings, entire villages. She didn't want to. But in the moment of truth, choosing between life and death? She would. These people couldn't. They wouldn't be able to fight off the monsters at all, and yet they had been willing to risk everything to save others while she, while Vincent and Mila and all the others, had played at being heroes - secure in their own abilities, believing that they could put up a fight.
Some say Althea's heart grew three sizes that day.
(it didn't)
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Post by Vincent on Nov 21, 2017 10:45:59 GMT -6
"Hyaaaaaaa!!!!" A young man swung a blade down in a dramatic and furious flare. "Hahahah" The boy laughed after wiping sweat from his brow. "Let's see a filthy bug make its way past the walls now!" He was excited and ready for glory. Perhaps Vincent saw a bit of himself in the boy, perhaps he saw wasted energy and effort, or just the poor technique he was utilizing and would get himself killed.
"Is this your first time carrying a blade?" Vincent asked him, taking a moment away from the greater instructions he was offering. His face was stern and no nonsense.
"Yeah, but look at us, we're like a real fighting force!" To this boast Vincent frowned.
"We may be a force but we are not fighting shape. Not yet, I would need three months to make you as formidable as I would like. You swing that blade recklessly leaving your entire body open to any number of strikes. Let alone to option to stop your swing, breaking your body or stealing your sword." Vincent scolded the boy which earned him the scorn of another man, one who was a local baker.
"At least he is here and willing to fight for you!" The baker was a portly man who was given a pike of his own. "Why don't you let him have his fun!?" his voice fell into a mutter as he added, "May be his last chance."
Fight for him? The hero did not like the sound of that statement but this was not the time to address such a thing. Vincent shook his head seeing as the man had misunderstood his intentions. "I offer this stern instruction not to belittle you and your inexperience, but because I want nothing more than for all of you to survive into tomorrow and well beyond. This will be the final battle to protect your homes for many of you, but I suspect many more will continue into the larger fight, and the more you know now the longer you'll last. Come on, show me that swing again, but not so high and not so much follow through."
"Uh, alright." The boy revisited the swing, this time it was a much more direct and controlled attack. Far from perfect but hardly a strike that would get the boy killed before delivering it.
"Much better. Remember to return to a combative stance once the strike is made. Follow up attacks are not always possible and even worse if your blade is low when someone else comes at you, you will have just left yourself open."
The boy looked down at the sword he was carrying. A look of understanding came over him mixed with a sense of fear and dread. He now began to notice the chipping along the edge and subtleties of wear that had corroded the metal.
"That sword weighs maybe three pounds, and yet it now feels like the world doesn't it?" Vincent spoke to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy silently nodded in response. "I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that you and everyone else makes it through this night, I promise you that. Looking over the boy's sword a bit closer Vincent took it from the boy. "You'll need a better blade to even break those creatures' hides." Handing the damaged sword to another who could bring it to the smithy to be mended he handed the boy a blade from his own scabbard. "I have not wielded this in a long time. It's name is Phoenix Claw, and it is inlaid with Silver. It should serve you better." Vincent smiled and the boy took the sword with a mixture of surprise and reverence. "Just promise to fight defensively."
"I will!" The boy seemed excited and went to show off his new sword to his friends.
"Why do you fill his head with such things?" The baker asked.
"There is nothing wrong with giving someone hope." Vincent retorted plainly. "There is far too much despair as is, and more than anyone he is the next generation of this country in the darkest times since the Scouring. I pray he can grow to be a beacon to his people... that all of us here tonight will become one."
The baker shook his head solemnly. "I lost my boy to these things already, because he hoped and spoke like you do!" He seemed on the verge of tears or rage, perhaps both. "I think this a fools errand, but I will not dishonor him and his sacrifice!" The baker suddenly hugged onto Vincent. Taken by surprise Vincent tensed before patting the man on his back.
"You do more to honor him tonight than you will ever realize."
Not even an hour more passed before the messenger came to rally the defenders to the walls. "They are coming! Hurry! The Swarm is here!!!" The town's bell that used to signify fire had now been used to tell of another all consuming threat. The Baels.
They had succeeded in allowing all evacuees their chance to escape, if only barely. If the villagers were to truly get away they would need to hold of the swarm long enough. Vincent bounded up the stairway to the top of the ramparts and asked the harrowing question, "How much do they number!?"
"Too many to count!"
"How about the fires?" No sooner had he asked than he was given his answer. The hunters had fashioned for themselves makeshift flaming arrows and the scattered piles of wood were doused in flammable oils. The archers began to fire into the bundles setting them alight one by one. The fires were slow to burn at first but soon they were all ablaze and releasing heat and smoke. The night breeze blew towards the defenders bringing the smell of the fires and the stench of the creatures with it.
Looking at the men and women around him Vincent noticed many carried odd bottles in a sling. It would seem these were Sigma's cocktails. He prayed they worked. In fact it would seem the efforts of the others were well spent. Mila's extra protection on the walls must have been exhausting but it was there and Althea had helped ensure all the villagers were away. Dimino too was an asset with lances. Vincent had no earthy idea how to instruct those.
The smoke obscured the sky and ground level while the fire lit the area allowing them to see what was near but not into the distance. Quickly Vincent was met by the rest of the defenders. He did not have the time to note the locations of all the people he had come to know by Mila was nearby. If necessary he could always call on her assistance... maybe. Even his knee shook. Was it a deep rooted primordial fear or the chill on the air? Vincent steadied himself and quieted his mind, drawing his blade. He let it produce a soft light illuminating a small space and readying it for combat.
Vincent was not one for speeches, especially not when facing down a horde of beasts, but he was one for words. He spoke letting his voice cut clear above the noise for all to hear. "I CAN'T ASK MUCH FROM YOU, ONLY THAT YOU COME BACK ALIVE!!! AND TO DO THAT WE NEED TO KICK THESE BEASTS OUT OF OUR COUNTRY!!!" He held his blade aloft and let out a war-cry that was met by others.
As the cheers died down the sound of the enemy arriving could be heard. It was like a rhythmic sashaying. If not for the sound their sheer numbers created the perfect timing would have masked the numbers. Just as hoped the beasts were corralled by the flames into the space they readied for the fight. They were spiders, and they were huge, those were the facts before them, beyond that the night was anyone's guess.
"Hunters!" The voice of Tom shouted to his fellow. Bow strings were drawn. "Give 'em hell!" The arrows were loosed flying down into the face of the first wave of spiders-like monstrosities. Well aimed shots from more powerful bows managed to pierce or even pin the least of the beasts in place but the horde came to the wall.
"As we practiced!" Vincent reminded. The lances were set and as the beasts climbed to the edge of the wall and began to rise over they were lunged into the heads of the creatures. The shrieks of pain were chilling and ear splitting. "First Seal!" Vincent unleashed a portion of his blade's power to let loose a strike of magic into an enemy monster, removing legs and cutting into the side. These small ones were large, but still no bigger than a large dog. Even the ones that tried to climb over Mila's spikes found difficulty, either forced to climb to the side or falling back to the ground entirely.
It seemed like a good start, but there was something off about these smaller baels. As they were battered and pierced it quickly became clear that they were meant to take the brunt of the blows. Something in them bubbled and shifted, their very bodies swelling beyond what they should. In little time at all they began to pop. The bodies exploded throwing pieces of Bael at the defenders in a spectacular display of gore, but horrifyingly their blood, or liquid nether, (The verdict was still out on what they had), was mixed with their poison. As they exploded their poison splashed out upon the defenders. It was hot to the touch, not boiling, but burning like an acid. Vincent was had turned and ducked allowing his cape to take the brunt of what would have splattered all over him but some near him were not so fortunate.
Just to his left the man that had stabbed the bael had the liquid contents splashed into his eyes and mouth. His tongue swelled as he cried in pain. He rubbed his eyes but the liquid only spread becoming worse and blinding him further as his eyes threatened to burst into goop. His swelling tongue soon cut off his airflow and he began to suffocate. He was not the only one to suffer so. Even those that had only partially been hit suffered burns and those that saw the poison splash over cuts, small and large, did not take long to grow ill as their very veins could be seen turning black around the point of entry.
It was an attack of terror and suicide that the young hero could never have fathomed, and to him it did not bode well for the rest of the conflict. "Archers! Focus on the small ones!" Those things needed to be picked off from afar! Could he afford to help pull the injured off the wall!? Instinct made him want to help save others in the immediate but he held back. He was needed on the wall. Blast!
'Easy Partner, you chose this fight, I'll help you see it through.' it was good to have Phoenix Heart on his side, though it did little to ease his concern for the others.
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Post by Mila on Nov 24, 2017 20:48:40 GMT -6
There was a little bit of time before the horde came. And even then Mila was surprised at the number of people that stayed behind to fight. Sigma seemed to have come through with his bombs. She had to assume that the roads were booby-trapped with his fires. She wished someone would walk up to her and tell her what was and what wasn't done when she was asleep. But, before she could ask what was up before she could make her way to Vincent through the crowds, the bell sounded. Mila took a deep breath in and made her way upwards. She'd share a space with two archers who would fire arrows down from the top of the wall. Mila's fire spells worked best when she had a bit of distance to work with. And her earthen spells needed a bit of time for her to work with. She doubted she'd be using any more spells out of her Gaea tome. The earth magic was powerful but too time-consuming. And when it came to Baels, she needed to be as fast as possible. So she armed herself with the Volcanon tome. The sage ranked herself with a solid B in terms of fire magic. Maybe even a B+. The sage could maneuver the power of flame in a variety of ways. A huge fireball. A constant stream of flame. A stream of flame that could bend and move like a ribbon in the wind. A drilling cone.
She mused over the ways of how she could shape the flame as a means to calm herself. Truth be told she was afraid. Afraid that she'd die here. Afraid that Vincent would die here. Afraid that all their efforts here would fail and no one would be none the wiser for years. Maybe centuries. Afraid that her letter in the event of her death would never be delivered. Her work never published. She closed her eyes. The sage knew she couldn't let the fear control her. She needed to practice what she preached to Sam. She needed to remind herself of her own courage. Of her own confidence. She heard Vincent's rally speech from the tower, it kind of brought her back to her senses. She shook her head and let out a deep breath. Her Volcanon tome was clutched close to her chest and it felt warm. Mila was unsure if it was her imagination, or perhaps the secondary effects of the tome giving her that little bit of confidence she needed.
She felt like herself and she was ready to fight like herself. As the horde approached Mila could see them from the watchtower. And she noticed something was off about them right away. These guys were small! Small! Baels wasn't small they were supposed to be big! Well, then again she figured those big baels had to start somewhere. But, smaller baels, if she was going by basic not-bael spider behavior, which was the closest comparison she had, little spiders were usually skittish. They know they are small and easily edible so they'd rather flee than fight. But, these guys were charging right at them. Why? She shook her head. The theory that these baels were being controlled by a higher power... they.. were talking about that before right? Before, her nap? She shook her head again. FOCUS!
Baels were attacking! This was not the time to muse through the behavioral theories of baels! Oh? They.. explode? Now Mila had seen this phenomenon happen with other bugs. Specifically a sort of beetle that spat acid out of backside as a means of self-defense. The acid serves as distraction so the beetle can scamper off. But, these baels seemed to be full of the stuff. She never witnessed something like that before. She knew the bael bite can have this effect. But, this was the first time she saw it in the blood. Or what the bael uses as blood.
FOCUS AGAIN MILA! SPIDERS TO YOUR LEFT! The voice in her head screamed. And sure enough, there was the leg of one of those creepy crawlings trying it's hardest to get up the wall. Her spikes were proving to be effective in keeping them off the wall. The sage focused and raised her hand above her head. A ball of flame materialized a few inches above her palm and she lobbed it down at the creature. The small bael let out a hissing noise as the ball of fire spooked it enough to let go of the wall. It's body was burned and the bael colided to ground among the corpses of it's fellow baels.
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Sigma
Thief
Does anybody care about intelligence work anymore?
Posts: 151
Profession: Spy/Information Broker
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Sigma
OoC Alias: Sigma
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Post by Sigma on Nov 26, 2017 0:16:17 GMT -6
It was time. Men and women stood on the walls as Vincent gave his speech. Sigma noticed the people who were wielding the makeshift bows. They didn't seem very sturdy, but it's not like they'd be used after tonight... Or possibly earlier. No, stop thinking like that!
Looking at all those people, Sigma's mind went to a pretty dark place. Most of them would die. Even if they won, casualties were going to be high, no ways around except for a goddamn miracle by the gods themselves. Normally, he would've had pictures of his family flash in his mind, but really, his mother was more of a source of anger than comfort, so he really didn't have a reason to be melancholic or nostalgic at this point.
We could very well all die here. It's possible that everything ends for me tonight. Feeling his legs starting to give out, Vincent's shout was able to bring him out of his stupor as he turned to look at the swordsman. Surprisingly enough, it was enough to at least make his legs stand firm on the walls. Hmph, I chose to be here. Starting to doubt now was out of the question. I AM GOING TO MAKE IT!
As he looked out towards the forest, the only reason he could see it was thanks to the multiple bonfires built to contain the baels. The sound was getting louder and louder as he was finally able to see the outline of those beasts lurking out from the forest. However... Something seemed strange. These were a lot smaller than what he had expected. He knew there were obviously larger ones waiting in the distance, but it still seemed strange for these to reach no higher than his thigh.
The arrows started flying. The arachnids were being kept relatively well out of the city since most that were able to reach the wall quickly got shot down by everyone's combined effort. The bonfires were burning brightly, bottlenecking the baels exactly where they wanted them.
Noticing that the spiders who had reached them were pretty much doing suicide bomber tactics, Sigma's heart started beating even faster, the cries of agony from the villagers making his back wet from cold sweat. However, he needed to be ready, there was no time to let fear creep in his mind and cloud his actions. Seeing the long legs of one of the spiders reach over the wall, seconds away from pulling itself up despite the spikes Mila had created with her magic, Sigma dashed in, kodachi in hand and gave a powerful swing, severing the members off of the bael, the sudden attack enough to send it falling back down to the ground.
However, as he had cut through the hard scaly appendages, the same corrosive liquid that had already maimed a few of the villagers sprayed from the wound. That's their blood? Barely having time to move his head out of the way, he sadly still felt the ooze cover his left cheek. It felt cool for the first second until he could've sworn that he had just rubbed his face in a pile of hot coals. Smart enough to not touch it any further, having had bad experiences with acid a few years back, he hissed in pain, trying to stay focused on the battle. Seeing another one reaching the top of the wall, he and another militia man both brought their sword down on his head, splitting it open. "DIE IN HELL, YOU DAMNED PEST!"
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Post by Althea on Dec 6, 2017 7:53:03 GMT -6
As it turned out, fortresses and castle walls were in short supply around small towns - truly a surprise to everyone - leaving Althea constrained to something less of a grandiose spire into the skies and more of a... parapet... kind of thing on the wall. She realized she wasn't actually sure what it was called or not. Huh. If she survived this she was going to have to look that up when she got to the nearest library. In the meantime, spiders and stuff.
Speaking of which! As the bloodied sun sank into the ocean of night, shrouding the world around them in darkness, the aggressive arachnids appeared from their arboreal surroundings. Smaller than she remembered from her - well - Ereshkigal's fight alongside Remus. But she didn't have access to Ereshkigal's eldritch might right now, and to be honest she was quite happy to be up here, well away from the thick of the fight, as compared to say anywhere near them.
That feeling only doubled when they started exploding.
"What a fascinating adaptation," the dour dark mage remarked mostly to herself, though she did get a dirty look from one of the nearby archers that she archly ignored. "Volatile infested - suicidal shock troops to break the defender's line before the main attack." There was a measure of wonder in her voice, Althea almost impressed at how very strange these creatures were. She wasn't an expert on monsters, but maybe she would have been if they had been public a decade ago, or if she had known that such curious creatures existed.
For a moment she found herself - Althea wasn't entirely certain, it SEEMED like she wanted to talk to someone about the discovery but no one else really seemed to be particularly interested in casual conversation, and well, actually talking candidly to other people would be dreadfully out of character for her anyways. As was this train of thought. She couldn't tell if she was going mad or if this was also Ereshkigal's fault. Nonetheless she was here, and the spiders were... there. Quick little buggers, too. "Approaching in linear vectors, trading agility for speed..." Not entirely linear, she mentally corrected herself as she continued to watch, they did move side to side a bit. Almost as if they were - bred? - to deliver their lethal payloads as quickly and as efficiently as possible.
For a bunch of dumb animals, they sure seemed to have this strategy thing down a lot better than the humans who had been judging them.
Unfortunately Mila's spikes - albeit clearly useful - were not impregnable, the creatures making their way past them, scaling the walls. The archers were clearly not perfect shots by any means. And they did not have infinite ammunition. Neither did she, but she did have one thing over them, and ironically enough over Ereshkigal: control.
More or less tuning out the defenders around her, the leery archer and that fire mage whose name she couldn't think of and the thief and the swordsman and all the other useless distractions, Althea drew inward, unspooling memorized calculations as she prepared her magic. It was easier than she had remembered, the small part of her conscious brain that remained active noted, much easier, to weaken the barrier between reality and the Nether - to constrain it, corral it through the four dimly glowing lavender hexagrams shimmering into existence in a rough box shape above and behind her. Feeling the electricity of raw magic crash through her, a controlled tsunami that raged within the confines of its newfound river banks. Each sigil glowing brighter as the transference protocols completed, the fail-safes she had honed locking into place. She had done it wrong enough times that she had learned, the hard way, how to control the tide rather than being swept away by it. How to hone it. Strain it. Cast away the chaff and convert the roiling mass of magic and shadow into -
The top right sigil exploded into light and shadow, dusky lavender light spewing forth in a tightly controlled beam as she completed the first set of realspace targeting calculations - that Bael, subject alpha, the distance carefully estimated, the angle of necessary drop, a purple-black lance whose light was shadow that flickered with a soft hum as it instantaneously crossed the intervening distance, singing the beast in one heartbeat and piercing through in another as the vile toxins within detonated, sending a spray of volatile acid forwards, towards the wall, far too low to be of any concern, not that Althea even noticed it. Wrapped in her ongoing calculations, using the temporary safety as a stopgap and her hands tightly gripping the side of the wall, knuckles white, as stability. Locating more targets. The heavily customized dark magic she had developed over time being tested once again, each sigil left to recharge and purify the dark energy for a short time after a shot. The fire rate was... less than ideal. There were several seconds between each beam. But each homed in with almost unerring precision on the target, slight errors adjusted for with each progressing volley as she refined the calculations and surrendered herself further to the trance.
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Post by Mila on Jan 7, 2018 20:43:14 GMT -6
OOC- It's been a month! --
Mila looked over the edge to judge how many more beasts remained. She could spy at least three from her current viewpoint. She looked around at the people near her she could see their nerves getting the better of them. And she sympathized with them, the sounds of their comrades screaming in agony as their flesh came in contact with the bael's toxins, it was more than enough to shake any man to their core. She learned long ago to tune out the sounds of the agony.
But, something else caught her eye. She turned her head to see Althea cast her own set of magic. Now Mila had been around Drei enough to get accustomed to his magic. But, Althea's dark magic was something else. Carefully calculated beams of dark magic that seemed to pierce through the flesh of these beasts. Beams that seemed to be controlled by what looked like mental manipulation rather than physical ones. Something entirely different from Drei's magic something different from her own. Something else that was spectacular and frightening. Mila knew powerful spells like that usually took massive tolls upon the body and she really hoped the druid wasn't overdoing it. It was too early in the battle to bring out the big guns. Then again this might just be Althea's regular guns, Mila didn't know. She didn't know anything about anyone here save for Vincent. And even now he was different then what she remembered him as.
Enough gawking. Focus.
Althea seemed to be doing just fine in dealing with three baels she initially saw. Mila pulled her head away from the edge of the wall and mage a quick glance at her surroundings. The sage saw something that forced her to grab her warp staff. In the panic, an unfortunate soul was shoved off of the wall by another, who was trying to run across with an injured man in his arms. Mila kept her gaze focused on the falling man and focused. In a moment the man was enveloped in a light and vanished. He "fell" only a few inches away from Mila. The man looked around confused and Mila let out a hard exhale. She wasn't quite used to moving people around with the warp staff. The adrenaline coursing through her veins helped to limit some of her fatigue but it still took her a moment before she could move.
"I teleported you before you hit the ground. Are.. you hurt?"
"I.." He took a moment to find his words.
"Numbness? Do you feel Numbness?" She spoke with seriousness in her voice.
"No. I.." The stranger patted himself down.
"I'm alright."
"Good. Now go." Mila spoke. Headache.. starting. The man quickly got up and made his way back down into the fray. Unsure of what to do with his second chance at life. Mila had to take a quick step back and lean against the wall for a moment.
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dimino
Soldier
Posts: 37
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Dimino
OoC Alias: Fargus
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Post by dimino on Jan 7, 2018 21:48:50 GMT -6
(OOC: Apologies for not posting earlier, the holidays along with preparing for classes to start really hit me hard)
Dimino stared out into the darkness as he held his lance and shield in a defensive stance along with many of the other warriors that were beside him. The attack began with what looked to be small Baels. Dimino would have just shrugged them off if it wasn't for the fact that those Baels had acidic and poison blood. As one of the Baels exploded near him, he lifted his shield in time for the green substance to splatter among his shield, his comrades on the other hand however, were not so quick as one of them fell, grasping his throat as the substance apparently entered his mouth.
He could only look back at the advancing horde in shock as more continued to crawl up the defenses. I won't let more of the monsters up here! Dimino thought as he glared at the oncoming horde. As one of the "suicidal" baels as he'll dub them made it's way to Dimino. He quickly pierced the skin of the Bael. But before it could explode, he used his shield to bash the Bael off the wall, down towards the rest of its kind. It exploded, causing the blood to spray across some of the slightly bigger Baels that were nearby. Clearly reacting from the acidic blood, the bigger baels screeched with what sounded to be a combination of pain and anger as it attempted to claw up the wall despite the acid burning them.
Dimino pointed his lance forward as he glared at the oncoming horde. It looked to be no end in sight of these monstrous beasts! Still, he could not back down from this fight. If he and the rest of the defenders fail to stop these terrible monsters here, then they will just continue not just across of all of Lycia, but all of Nabata, Etruria, the entire continent! No way in hell am I going to lose! he thought. He decided to put the rest of his nervousness aside as he concentrated on the wave of enemies approaching. "Gia chári ólis tis anthropótitas, tha stamatíso ólous sas térata! Tóra, kaíne stin Kólasi!" he yelled out.
Feeling his adrenaline flowing through his vains, Dimino gripped his lance and shield as he thrust his lance at one of the slightly bigger Baels that have climbed up. The blow merely made the Bael mad as it attempted to jump on Dimino only to be greeted by a shield to the face! As the Bael got up, it was then struck from behind by one of the townsmen that wielded a sword. Weakened from the blows along with the acid earlier, the Bael stumbled off the wall as it crashed down to the floor.
Dimino quickly looked around to observe how the rest of his allies were fareing. Vincent seemed to be doing fairly well on his own even though many of his comrades have fallen prey to the acidic blood from the suicidal Baels. The two mages were doing well also, but one looked to be tired, likely from previously preparing the walls still. Dimino couldn't see how the thief that made the concoctions of napalm was doing, but he could only assume that he was doing well also. He just needed to hold the Baels off as long as he can.
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Post by Vincent on Jan 12, 2018 5:44:45 GMT -6
'Blast! Blast! BLASTED BUGS!' it was like an all consuming notion that had eked its way into his mind over the course of the day and now night. The acids that he allowed to splash over his cape and back had already eaten away at the fabrics leaving it a mess of tatters. If he were to try to avoid harm like that again he would certainly be met with burns on his back at best. Agonizing death at worst. These suicidal spiders only existed in a finite amount, however, the sheer numbers and damages they caused, corralled or not was staggering. Most of their numbers were intact but their souls were shattered by despair. It was a feeling that Vincent himself knew all too well but could not fall for, be it for the others that might look to him or the simple fact that he'd be consumed in a holy flame.
The bombardment of bodies had done more damage in Vincent's location than likely any other, and that was a harrowing idea considering the damages elsewhere. A man laid on the ground at Vincent's feet, suffocated by his own body as the acids now ate at his skin. The others that stood on this part of the wall were similarly hit or in a panic that Vincent could not easily quell. "The swarm is breaking!" he called out to the panicked in an attempt to ease them to no avail. The wounded, the dead, and those that lost heart and fled cost them many of their precious few numbers.
There was another brief moment of distraction as a great light shown from across the wall. It was dark and terrifying, yet wholly intense and incredible. Vincent easily identified it as dark magic but it was on a level he had only seen once before. Well, not quite, this was hardly the same as Hargus's but it was comparable, and for the briefest of moments it made him think. How strong was the wielder to use such power and control it? Or were they in true control? He'd witnessed what happens to those that push too far with Niel once before, but now was not the time to concern himself over such things.
As if on cue a small bael peered over the wall leaping at Vincent with only a short moment to react. He threw his arm in front of the beast watching as it latched itself onto his arm and biting down. Its fangs were powerful enough to break bone, snap them even but his gauntlets held true. The metal was rent and pierced his skin but the fangs and their poisons did not. He roared in pain before spinning to smash the cat sized bael against the stone of the rampart. It shrieked and crunched but one strong hit would do it in. She he recoiled as it continued to press its fangs down. It felt like a shell around his arm. One he could feel the pressure waiting for it to pop. He struck it again to no avail, this time another small bael climbing to his position as well. Now he was faced with two of these creatures as they had begun to learn the fastest route to ignore the spikes.
A sudden idea of inspiration struck him. Phoenix Heart could not be used to harm its own accepted wielder! Bringing his blade to bare against his own arm he cut into the bael that grabbed onto him using his own arm to aim it on the newest contender and unleash a small and focused blast of Thani. It was enough to remove the arm leech but the second got little more than a light show that hurt its eyes. The bael lashed out with a single leg as though to test what Vincent would do, and Vincent leapt back, dangerously close to the edge of the wall before the creature followed up with a pounce. Taken unaware Vincent raised his blade in time to skewer the beast but he was knocked by the weight of it, right off the wall!
"Blast!" A single moment felt an utter eternity. He dropped his sword and reached out helplessly as the force of gravity took over him. He could not die like this? Could he? Well that was... unfortunate. Strange way to think about this he thought to himself in a moment of grim humor. Crack!
He did not fall far, but he fell far enough to do himself harm. The stairway up the rampart caught his fall part way but the uneven steps and unforgiving nature of stone reminded him that life too can be merciless. He struck the uneven stone in a messy fashion cracking his head against a step, by miracle not snapping his own neck. As he did so his mind went black and the clattering of his sword down the steps or even his own body were the only noises to make sense in his senselessness.
His mind was dark and his body rejected his commands, it hurt, leaving him on the stairway not dead nor completely there. His head had a new wound that wasted little time running red. 'Blast!'
Not long after his fall would he curse his own incompetence more as the second wave of baels arrived. They were two of your common variety but large and well fed. Their weight was too great to allow them to carry themselves over the wall but it was enough to try and go through it. The first of the larger baels came barreling for the wall intending to ram it with all its might.
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