Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Jun 17, 2011 23:42:33 GMT -6
Farlus responded to David through grit teeth. Sure, the pain was gone, but it was still a struggle to stand up straight.
"Indeed, I am. Farlus Norwright, at your service." A few moments passed and Farlus finally composed himself. He looked David up and down and then at another group of swordsmen that seemed like they were awaiting a chance to get up front. They'll be able to work for his plan, but he might need help.
"It has been brought to my attention that the enemy is setting up ambushes to crush our rear. Unless this gentleman..." he motioned at the corpse with a mostly melted face on the ground next to him, "... was just a wandering simpleton looking for blood. That, I find unlikely. So, it is prudent that we at least have the means to stave off these attacks so the archers and mages can continue to send volleys."
The mage put his thumb to his chin as he continued, "However, being appointed an officer not long ago, I hold very little sway over anyone other than fellow mages that can appreciate my skill in magic. I need someone to get the remainder of the force not able to get into the thick of the battle in position to receive these ambushes. Or possibly even stage an ambush of their own." A flick of his arm sent Farlus' now blood-stained cloak billowing to his side. The mage cocked his hips to one side and smirked deviously.
"I have now appointed you as that person. You're a swordsman, they can relate to you. Tell them Commander Richter told you to get them back here if you have to."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 18, 2011 21:55:40 GMT -6
Clair angled her lance up towards the giant and attempted to back away a step or two once she landed. She was quite satisfied with her attack, though she had wanted it to land more effectively. He had literally split one of her riders and their steed in two. He wasn't going to get away without paying the full measure for that.
The fist he threw at her came as a surprise. He was too close for her to get away from, so she ended up taking the full blow. The shock transferred through the front of the shoulder and her breastplate as he hit, knocking her off her feet and backwards through the air. The Falcoknigh landed with a thud and did a backwards somersault before coming to a stop, dazed. The actual impact had been caught by her armor, and had left her unharmed, but the force of the blow had been enough to give her system quite a jolt. Disgusted with how easy she was for the big man to knock aside, Clair wobbled to her feet, and picked up her Killer Lance which had landed not far from her.
"I don't think you know who you're dealing with, Addlepate! I'm a Falcoknight. And you! You're just a lump of grease waiting to be scraped off the side of the mountain." Clair yelled at the giant bandit. She defied him, aiming to get his attention back on her as Corona was circling around to drop down and crush him any second now.
"Every injury you inflict will be payed back in full and, then some!"
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 19, 2011 3:38:04 GMT -6
Richter bolted to his feet, weaponless, and attempted to ignore the pain in his side. A fool's effort. As another bolt of agony surged through him, Richter realized he could not ignore the pain any more than he could ignore the massive man hurtling straight towards him, and because of it, he was no more able upright than he was on the ground. All he could do was stand there, grimacing like an idiot. This wasn't just a fractured bone. His side was shattered. This would be fatal if he didn't treat it soon. Damn it! He could take down ten men effortlessly, then in the same breath be brought low by one second of inattention; one blow from a hammer!
And the commander paid for his injury induced sluggishness as the berserker came barreling into him shoulder first, lifting Richter up off the ground and sending him flying like a broken rag doll, and landing with another crack. The pink haired Ilian howled as he felt his injured side break further. He wasn't dead yet, but he would be soon if he didn't find someway to save himself from his massive aggressor. Unfortunately, Richter didn't see a way to save himself. This was the end, wasn't it?
The brigand gave him no opportunity for another heat of the moment reversal, chuckling darkly as he plod over to the fallen commander. The bearded brute knew he had won, and now he was going to take his time in finishing off his prize and spilling Richter's blood all over the icy ground. The commander couldn't fight back, hell, he couldn't even stand. On his back and without a weapon, all Richter'd be able to do is flail his arms as he waited for the end to come. It was over, and he knew it. Richter couldn't help but feel despair. Bern would rebel, the Prophet would march, suffering would spread across Elibe, and Richter would die in the dirt, his body broken and an axe in his skull. Ultimately, his determination and his ambitions would amount to nothing. What had he been thinking? To think he could lead the charge against Etruria! That was a job for far better men than he.
Resigning himself to his inevitable fate, the commander looked to his right and he noticed a familiar visage staring him dead in the face. It was Randolf, one of the twins; Rudolf and Randolf. They'd been fresh recruits back at Salvation Point. Through his arrogance and his stupidity, he'd let Rudolf die at the hands of the Sacean army that had attacked then, and now it seemed his brother had joined him. Just as well. He'd failed both of them just as he'd failed the people of Ostia, just as he'd failed his family, and just as he'd failed his sister. Now he'd be failing his men who believed in him and Clair who'd trusted him.
"Been brought down by a bunch of low down dirty bandits, eh?" came the berserker's booming voice. "That's what you're thinking, ain't it?" He stepped down on Richter's leg, leaning forward and grinning devilishly. It hurt to say the least, but the commander refused to look; to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear in his eyes, because now that it actually came down to it, Richter feared death. He had always seen himself as a man with nothing to lose, but now that his life was slipping out of his fingers, Richter could see all he really had. The thought of losing any of it, of losing Clair or losing Mary, scared him.
"Oi, look at me!" growled the beast of a man looming above Richter, pressing down on Richter's leg harder and growling angrily, but the commander refused to look. He couldn't pry his gaze away from Randolf, the younger man's dead eyes piercing into him. What was it that had caused Randolf to continuing following him to the point where he would fight and die in a cold land not his own for a commander that had let his brother needlessly die? What did everyone see in him? What redeeming traits could Richter Abend, son of Rudger Abend, possibly posses that caused everyone he met to follow him to the death? "I said look at me!" came the bandit's angry growl again, but Richter still did not look.
The Ilian swordsman stared into Randolf's eyes, as if looking for the answer to his question, and it came to him as he noticed the Etrurian's arm stretched out, spear still in his hand as if handing it to his commander. It was hope, wasn't it? It was hope that, even in the face of failure, Richter would be able to pick up the spear and keep fighting for what was necessary when they no longer could. It was hope that, even if the world was full of pain and suffering, Richter would fight to make tomorrow just a little better than today.
"I...can't..." Richter sputtered out, drops of blood flying from his lips. The giant hairy beast merely raised an eyebrow. "Wazzat?" he asked, as if mocking the fallen commander's attempts to speak. "I...can't...die here," finished Richter, his breathing heavy. The berserker chuckled. "You can't die here? Well it looks like you don't got a choice!" he replied, raising his axe above his head for the killing stroke. That was it.
As quick as he could, Richter grabbed the lance out of Randolf's hand, and grunting in pain through cringing teeth, turned the point upon the haughty berserker. It was apparently quick enough, because Richter's following thrust was met by the soft squish of metal piercing flesh. Surprise was emblazoned upon the face of the massive bandit as the lance head slid in between his ribs, piercing his lung. He angrily attempted to finish his kill, but as he tried to swing his axe, Richter twisted the lance, forcing the bandit to shout in pain and stagger back. His fist still clenched around the handle of his weapon, the bandit fell to his knees, gasping futilely for air, before rolling onto his back immobilized.
The wounded commander smirked in satisfaction, but his smugness was broken as his breathing turned to coughing and he slipped out of consciousness.
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Endellion grinned angrily and furiously back at Clair as she got to her feet. It wasn't just a gritting of teeth, but a genuine, sick, disgusting smile of a man who readily enjoyed every blow he landed on these, weak, inferior beings. He truly cared little for the Prophet's dead Saint, but if doing "her work" meant crushing the skull of this self-righteous b****, than so be it. He would relish in it.
"The side of the mountain?" he said, cocking his head to the side. His evil grin still stretched from ear to ear. "I think you're getting me confused with your little friend there." Endellion nodded his head towards where the squire and her pegasus's dead frames had fallen just moments earlier. He took a step towards Clair. "That was good work I did there. Just how are you going to pay me back? Poke me with that piss-little stick of yours?" Endellion then took another step, but stopped short of Clair, remaining where he was, his arms outstretched. "Because if that's the plan, you're going to have to f****** come and prick me with it."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 20, 2011 0:38:07 GMT -6
This monster needed to be purged. He enjoyed the slaughter that he was dishing out. As long as he continued to exist, he'd continue his corrupted, wanton mayhem.
The Falcoknight grew furious as the axman made mention of the squire he'd halved, her expression carrying over to a wild, feral snarl. Oh, so he wanted to play the insult game some more. Clair could handle that. She lifted her killer lances tip towards him, showcasing the wide tip with the serrated edges. It was a weapon made for rending things.
"Well, first, I was planning on cutting the tendons in your arms, so you couldn't pick that axe of yours anymore. Then I figured that I'd take your legs. Without any of your limbs functioning properly, I'd expect it'd be pretty easy to so just cut your windpipe..., but I'd expect that would be too easy on you."
There was Corona, right on time. The massive Pegasus was coming swooping in from directly behind the big man, and was getting ready to crush him into the rock face. A smear indeed.
"And as for me having to come and get you.... I think you're more likely to be coming my way.."
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Katelyn
The "Before" years
[M:0]
Posts: 13
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Post by Katelyn on Jun 20, 2011 9:43:47 GMT -6
Bloodstained snow everywhere, bodies, of both enemies and allies. In the distance dragons roars could be heard as they were probably rampaging the enemies. Meanwhile Katelyn were still in the fight with the remainder of the squires. Even though they were all novices at fighting, they were somehow keeping themselves alive. Either due to a stroke of luck, or due to the constant flailing of lances, or their well trained mounts that gave them the necessary advantage. The fiery haired squire continued to poke and slash with the lance, to keep burly haired men away from both herself and Equus.
One thought filled her, and fueled her to keep on fighting even though her body ached. Her breathing ragged as her throat started to dry up. The fighting on the ridge continued on, though the initial charge from the pegasus wore off. Katelyn gave Equus a pat, as she let the stallion charge forward, towards one of the archers, who was nicking an arrow. The archer stood up, eyes widening as the stallion charged, as the bowstring was pulled back.
A sudden force pulled her off Equus, as she was thrown off. The impact in her right shoulder as the arrow pierced the shoulder guard, and upon hitting the ground, the world seemed to darken around her. A throbbing pain in her right shoulder brought her back to consciousness a moment later, finding Equus infront of her, still trampling the burly man who had fired the arrow.
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David Krisby
Mercenary
DEAD
"Where is MY path to redemption?"
Posts: 81
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Post by David Krisby on Jun 20, 2011 13:50:18 GMT -6
"Wait, you want me to run back into the battle and scream at our guys to run over here. Were you aware that I joined about the same time you did?" David threw his hands into the air. "Whatever, man. You better buy me a drink for this later."
David ran out to where he saw a bunch of mercenaries from the back lines getting ready to provide reinforcements. David got nostalgic from his days in the army and yelled at the top of his voice, "On me! On me! Orders from the commander, move to back me up!" Some soldiers had seen him around, so they knew he was with them. Some recognized him as the mercenary Dark Hunter.
David turned back around without looking to see if anyone actually followed him. "This was not what I signed up for..." he grumbled to himself as he ran back to Farlus's position.
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Post by Valcrist on Jun 20, 2011 20:36:28 GMT -6
It was chaotic, wild, and more then a little bloody. Even Val, the supposedly defenseless blacksmith, was fighting a bit more then someone in his position really should. Not that he was actually defenseless, but how the heck would anyone else know that? Well maybe Garith and Clair because he told them, but he hadn't seen either! There were some Pegasus knights that came from who knows where earlier... so that was probably Clair. Probably for the best, Richter's men were so blindsided by this attack it was surprising. Far be it for him to question the thoughts of the higher ups, or something, but this ambush was far too well set up for it to be by chance. He just hoped no one pointed their fingers at him, for being a completely useless newbie who is the perfect kinda person a spy could be. He couldn't be a spy though, he lacked the mental facilities.
Anyways, the battle, it was fierce. The clinging and clanging of metal resounded in the air like some twisted symphony of steel and carnage, the screams of the dieing being the drums of war. He was lucky, very very lucky that he himself hadn't witness any gruesome deaths. Only things he saw were the fighting and the dead, the dying were thankfully free from his vision. Well, sans the people he himself killed, those didn't count. Right?
His blade bloodied, the life fluid trickling down and staining his hands, the man in front of him finally fell. Lifeless, his shout just became another beat of the drum and his blood paint for the canvas of battle. A forceful swing of his weapon, striking at the air, whizzing as it sliced through the air. The red flew off the edge of his weapon, painting the snow below. It was still really bad, he'd need to clean the weapon afterwards. Luckily for him, most of the people attacking were using big unwieldy axes. It was no problem to fluidly dodge anything they threw at him, still he count his lucky stars that he wasn't attacked by anyone who was a huge threat. He was a decent enough fighter, for a blacksmith, against a real enemy he didn't stand a chance...
Slowly, almost unconsciously, he gripped the hilt of the blade sitting cozy in it's sheath upon his back. No, not now. Instead he regripped the sword in his other hand with all of his digits.
Someone was... shouting? Yes shouting, definitely. It was hard to make out over the music blaring in his ears, but there was definitely someone saying something. Kinda a gruff voice too. Not exactly familiar, but it wasn't completely foreign either. It was like he heard it not too long ag-
"Come on!" Why did he always get interrupted mid thought? Nope, can't complete your thoughts Valcrist. Gotta DRAG you somewhere. In this case it was a rough looking man, probably a merc, pulling him by the arm.
"W-what are you-"
"Gotta follow the Dark Hunter." He said in such a way that left little room to argue.
"I'm not a mercenary though."
"You can fight can't you? That's good enough." This felt strangely nostalgic. I never get to decide what I'm doing, do I?
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Jun 21, 2011 20:34:07 GMT -6
Farlus hadn't realized that the man had joined up so recently. He took mental note to apologize when it was all over. However, he couldn't help but smile as he saw a wave of soldiers following him back. the smile was replaced with a look of fright at the realization that he wasn't good with crowds. The mage snorted, that was quite the understatement. But he had to overcome his paranoia that every last one of them was ready to stab him in the back if he were to show it to them. After all, he was the staff officer. He would have to deal with these people on a daily basis.
Farlus dug his feet into the ground and concentrated on the show in front of him. The air surrounding it heated up and the white blanket melted away, giving ample room for the soldiers to gather. The mage felt it best to practice what to say so he would be reading a script and focusing on that rather than having to speak to a little over a dozen men and women off the cuff.
Farlus quickly formulated his speech and had it ready in time as the swordsmen almost reached the spot he prepared for them. he looked at his archers and mages, feeling affirmed in his skills as a leader once finding out that they were still sending explosive volleys at the opposing army. His keen eyes shot out at the cliff walls on either side of them. Examining the surroundings, he noticed the bandits that were, in fact, awaiting them. His plan had worked. The feet and hands of several men could be seen, obviously preparing an ambush. The movement of the reinforcements had put them on edge and they were preparing their strike ahead of schedule.
It seemed that the one fool that took advantage of Farlus' moment of weakness was a fluke. Or perhaps he was a ploy to lead them into a trap of their own. The mage grinned.
"The pieces are placed. Let us see who is the better player."
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 22, 2011 18:49:13 GMT -6
Endellion had not expected the winged horse swooping in from behind him. Foolishly, he hadn't even wondered what had happened to the pegasus after he had knocked Clair off of it. He had been too focused, too angry at the damn girl to watch his back. And he paid for it.
While Corona was a floaty, just as much bird as he was horse, having a fully grown pegasus land on you from behind was never goddamn fun. Endellion fell forward, the flying horse's hard hooves pummeling his back as he was pushed face first into the hard rock, barely saving himself from a broken skull by landing on his massive, pillar-like arms. The red haired beast roared and growled like an animal at the attack, the impact against the ground causing the muscles in his arms to bulge with stress, and as Corona pulled away from Endellion, the giant man turned to face his attacker.
"F****** horse!" he barked, swiping at Corona grabbing one of the pegasus's limbs in his massive paws. The flying horse tried to struggle away, but Endellion's grip was too powerful. Albeit being majestic steeds, pegasi didn't posses the rippling power of a warhorse. Their ability to fly demanded lower muscle mass and lighter, hollow bones, which could compromise them against certain men. Endellion was one such man. A great evil beast of a man.
Furious and enraged that he was brought to the ground by a s***** winged horse, he readied his axe, ready to cleave through yet another pegasus. Corona could only whinny and snort as his leg bones groaned in protest under Endellion's powerful, wrenching pull. The flying horse flapped its wings wildly, dragging the unrelenting red haired man through the snow and pulling the man inches off of the ground.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 23, 2011 13:31:15 GMT -6
Things had been simple. The giant pegasus would sail in from behind and crush the two-legs to bits for his rider to come in and finish off, just like they'd done in the past. Right as he was about to hit, he saw Clair start flitting towards the big two-legs. He'd hit the man hard enough to drive him to the ground, and was about to continue his attack, but then he felt a sudden pain in one of his legs. The Two-legs had grabbed hold of his legs and started wrenching at them. Wrenching on legs was bad. Predators! They always go for the legs! Get away!Corona gave into panic, and surged his wings upwards. To his horror though, he couldn't get away as he normally did. All he could do was struggle back towards the sky, where he'd come from. Pain surged as he felt something like a fracture form in his legs, but they were airborne, if only for a second. Back to the sky! Back to the wind!He was closer. Just needed to get high enough to break the predator's grip. His back hooves came down, and he prepared to jump again as soon as he had all four feet on the ground again, but the front hooves never landed on solid rock. More shock. Corona twisted to the side, and hit the rock with a crack before sliding over the edge of the cliff and beginning the fall downwards. - - - - - Clair had gritted her teeth and started running just as Corona had made contact with the red-haired beast, but beyond that, things hadn't gone as planned. This man was a powerful indeed, to be able to wrestle down her pegasus. She wasn't sure what to think on realizing that Corona needed help against the man. Seeing the axe readying, Clair dove ahead, and slammed her lance into the side of her opponent's axe. It wouldn't be enough to stop him from using the axe, but maybe enough cause a mishandle of the weapon. She was caught by surprise and horror again when Corona tumbled over the edge of the cliff with a scream. "No!" The white winged stallion had fallen. Corona was a part of her very existence. He was just... always there. He'd been there since before she'd even left Illia. He was as much her weapon on the field of battle as her lance; as much a part of her movements as her own arm. He was the reason she was even still alive, but he fell. Clair turned furious tear filled gaze at the axeman. She wasn't one to seize up on the battle field. Not even now. OoC: Ok. Battle. Start. www.youtube.com/watch?v=SVuyFItb4SoMusic courtesy of Farlus.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 25, 2011 22:29:59 GMT -6
As Corona had gone tumbling off of the cliff, the winged steed would have taken the massive Endellion down with him if the red haired beast had not managed to grab onto a rocky outcropping at the last second. Hanging from the edge like a swaying vine, Endellion looked down after the plummeting creature, which, flailing and whinnying, had landed with an inaudible thud on a lower rock face. It was a long way down.
His axe in his right hand and holding onto the cliff with his left, the axeman looked up as he heard Clair's shout of pain. An emotional arrow from the girl's heart.
"No!"
Music to his ears. A dark grin on his face, Endellion swung his axe arm up onto the clifftop, digging the weapon into the hard, cold earth, and with a grunt and a heave, pulled himself up over the edge and onto his knees. He brushed the snow off of his pants, then threw his head back, laughing madly. His peals of laughter were in no way joyful. His voice was cruel, and his nature wicked. If any on earth deserved the description evil, it was he. Settling, he brought his gaze back forward and stared at Clair.
"A commendable effort," he spoke, his red hair speckled with pure white snow. "But at my hands, not even your pretty little horse is going to escape death." Endellion spat over the edge. "I'm just upset I didn't get to kill it myself. Damn horse was too f****** stupid. Killed itself." Again, the beastly man chuckled his low rumbling laugh. "So, how about you try and hit me again, hmm? This time without your dumb pegasus.
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Jun 26, 2011 22:58:14 GMT -6
As the two men charged at Garith he glanced to the right of him and saw as Clair fought another much larger than herself red haired bandit take on her Pegasus. He was blown away as he watched the Pegasus fall off the side of the cliff like that. He didn’t think anyone was strong enough to take on a Pegasus like that. Garith also saw as his new commander be knocked around and eventually KO’d.
Everything seemed like it was going to hell Garith didn’t want to be caught up in it anymore he wanted everyone to be safe. One bandit charging at him was holding an axe and the other a lance. Garith wasn’t going to take long taking these two men out he didn’t feel like dealing with weaklings anymore. As the bandit with the lance lunged his weapon at the young mercenary he quickly side stepped out of the way and charged at the bandit his blade pointed at the bandit’s chest. Garith’s assault on the first bandit was paused as the one with the axe came at him from the side swing like a mad man.
Garith jumped backwards avoiding the bandit’s axe attacks. He then charged at the bandit and the two became locked in combat. Swing after swing a person could hear the sound of sword and axe bang together across the battlefield. Garith, determined to end this battle fast, began to speed up his attacks making it hard for the bandit to keep up. Luckily for the bandit he had backup and the other bandit’s lance skinned Garith’s cheek. This upset Garith as he wasn’t in the mood for his own blood to be drawn even if it was a little bit. The blue haired mercenary grabbed the lance’s pole with his right hand and with all his strength pulled the lance over his head and onto the other side caring the man at the other end with it into the snow. Garith, as the axe bandit came at him, round house kicked him in the face making the bandit to land face first back side up into the snow. Garith then felt an intense pain in his side, the bandit with the lance had stabbed Garith in his right side. The young mercenary grabbed hold of the lance and pulled it out of him and then charged at the bandit completely ignoring about the other bandit that he had just kicked.
Garith didn't get very close to the bandit before the bandit's lance slashed the side of his arm. This stopped Garith in his tracks and he dropped down to one knee holding the wound on his arm with his other hand. He quickly got up and charged at the bandit again this time avoiding the lance's tip. Garith then felt someone's grip on the back of his head and he then was quickly brought down hard to the ground. The other bandit that Garith had totally forgot about had brought him down to the ground had swung his axe at Garith's chest. Garith quickly threw his sword in the away knocking back the axe and he then rolled out of the way of the lance of the other bandit as it was coming at him. He then slowly got back on his feet and began backing up. Garith could feel his blood run down his arm and his side. He really hated fighting people with lances it always went bad for him. Then faster than Garith could see coming the bandit's axe came straight for his head. He barely had anytime to block the attack with his sword but it still was powerful enough to knock him on the ground on his back. As Garith watched the bandit's axe come at him he thought of a plan that could get him out of this situation. Garith quickly rolled out of the way and then got back on his feet. The bandits then positioned themselves on both sides of Garith.
Just as he wanted it he remembered something like this happening before. The two bandits charged at Garith and as the lance’s tip came close to hitting Garith he moved slightly out of the way only getting scratched a bit hoping that the bandit behind him would get hit by the lance. Sadly he did not but the bandit did he get by Garith’s sword that he had facing that bandit’s direction and lunged into his chest. It was Garith’s plan to have both the lance and his blade coming at the bandit so he would have a hard time dodging both, he dodged the lance but not Garith’s sword. Garith then pulled the bandit’s lance bringing the bandit with him. The blue haired mercenary then thrust his sword into the bandit’s skull. As the men dropped to the ground dead Garith dropped down to one knee, his sword in the snow. He let a small sigh and then looked around the battlefield.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 27, 2011 18:18:05 GMT -6
The truth was, she'd been shaken by this turn of events. Corona had always smashed through all of her opposition. Now she had to rely on herself, and the experience she'd gained over the years. If she wasn't capable enough to look after herself on the battle field after all these years, then what had it all amounted to?
Unwilling to wait any longer, Clair readied her lance and drove in straight at him like a bolt of lightning to the highest peak of a mountain range. His thick chest, and wide shoulders made a rather large target for her to strike at. At this point, she was beyond caring where exactly she hit. There were too many targets for her to count now. Not all effective, but each painful.
He wasn't the only thing she kept her attention on. The numbers of bandits on the cliff side were far diminished, thankfully. The cliffside itself was a potential hazard, and that giant axe of his could stand some watching too. She just wanted to give him something to "watch".
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Jun 27, 2011 21:10:02 GMT -6
The soldiers he requested were taking their sweet time getting there. In the meantime, Farlus watched nervously as the boots and hands disappeared. Surely, the ambush that Farlus forced to happen ahead of schedule was happening faster than his soldiers could get there. The mage had to think quickly. Unfortunately, he was not given enough time to think of a strategy as one of the groups leapt from their hiding spot just above about a third of the group he had called back.
"Damn it all!" Farlus flicked his wrist, flames bursting from his fingertips, and made a motion as if drawing a weapon. From his had came a long lashing whip of flame that he snapped at the ambush group. The snap made a small explosion and pushed a few of the bandits back while still in the air, but a majority of them landed and proceeded to attack the soldiers. Then came the other. Farlus did the same as he did with the first group with his flame whip, making the explosion larger this time and directing the force upwards. This yielded better results, but some bandits still landed safely.
Farlus rushed in to the fray and prepared to get the soldiers out of this alive. The mage clenched his fists and shouted as loudly as he could, trying to give a proper order.
"Shields! Anyone with shields, face the enemy! Mobile units get around to their flank! We'll wipe them out before they have a chance to blink!"
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David Krisby
Mercenary
DEAD
"Where is MY path to redemption?"
Posts: 81
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Post by David Krisby on Jun 27, 2011 21:13:57 GMT -6
David could hear people behind him talking. Some spoke of the Dark Hunter, he half-turned to see how many were following him. Quite a few, actually. He had only expected twenty or so. It was encouraging to see that his reputation had grown in at least one community over the years.
Suddenly, an explosion, caused by the tactician no less. He was already being attacked.
"Right men, do as he says! Let's cut them down! The mercenaries of Ilia will not be defeated!" The army behind him roared with excitement, the reserves would finally have their chance to attack.
David pulled out his blade with his right hand, his left was still numb and bleeding. He raised his sword high into the air, "CHAARGE!" His sword waved forward. This seemed a more appropriate thing to scream than 'Leeroy Jenkins' at the moment. A few waves of mercenaries ran past David before he joined them. The enemy lines were totally surprised. David cut down a bandit who stood in his way, but was nicked by another's handaxe. The blood still in his eye didn't help him to avoid attacks at all.
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