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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 11, 2011 18:39:47 GMT -6
Clair rested for a few moments, sore and stiff legs tucked to the side under her, shoulders slouched from weariness. Her pain, however, was lessening due to the vulnerary. Now it was mostly just from extreme exertion. Just because that brute had fallen, didn't mean the battle was over.
As she forced herself back to her feet, she gasped in anger and frustration, and ran to the edge of the cliff again. The point from her slim lance, the one she'd kept after the shaft broke, the point from the lance she'd used from the beginning of her career, to her acceptance into the Falcoknights! It was still in that monster's leg! Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to be furious over at the time, but she'd meant to get it reaffixed to a new shaft!
"Wyvern Dung! I hope it rusts in your leg!" She picked up a fist sized rock, and flung it down the crevice where the large, dead man had fallen. She heard no sound of impact over the battle though.
By the Saint! He split her right in two... and her pegasus.... memories of the Beast's gruesome achievements threatened to overtake her, but Clair was too dutiful to allow that. Others were counting on her. And Corona!
Steeling herself for her ongoing duties, Clair Feldsky approached the pegasus squires, and the knight she'd hired before. She needed to get down to the rest of the army. Get down there and find Corona. She hoped he was still alive. He was so much more than merely an exclusive mode of transportation. He shared an understanding with her forged over years of experience, and he was the most important part of her equipment besides. If he could be saved, he would be.
"Squires, tend to yourselves and your steeds. Don't spare an injured enemy, they would gladly kill you, given the chance." She spoke up to the squires as she approached. Fran was nearby too, and she gave the youthful dragoness a ghost of a smile, but now wasn't really the time for hellos. Her responsibilities to the battle weren't over yet. They wouldn't be until the last soldier was able to rest.
"Delia, secure the area, and discourage any unwanted guests who are lingering around."
The golden-haired pegasus knight nodded her scarred face, and as she acknowledged the command, and kicked her pegasus into the air.
"Yes, Commander." A short answer for a bad situation.
"Julie, I want you to fly me down to the foot of the cliffs, and then return here." The squire turned pale at... well, likely the thought of going any closer to more fighting, but nodded her head.
"The rest of you, be careful up here. Battlefields are never completely safe."
It only took a few seconds for the pegasus squire to get Clair down to the ground, and even less for her to take off again, once Clair was off. It was so sad. The Falcoknight Commander hadn't intended on bringing them anywhere near a battle for months, but with the army they were rejoining engaged, there hadn't been much choice in the matter. Now, at least several of the riders she'd hired lay injured, and probably close on five were dead.
The Falcoknight skirted the cliffs, looking for Corona first. She stumbled on a few bandits, heads and other body parts smashed from the fall. The remains of the squire and her pegasus who had attacked the particularly large brigand were nearby as well. Clair felt her bile rise at seeing the girl and pegasus' two halves on the ground, but she contained herself. She looked at the cliff face, mentally marking it for later. The girl deserved to have her remains taken care of at least....
Then she saw him. Her glorious, mighty steed, laying in the snow, blood clinging to his sides. It looked like he'd managed to glide a short distance away from the cliffs as he fell, but he'd been unable to maintain flight. He kicked feebly, as she started running to him, and finally arrived.
"... ... Easy Corona." She tried to sooth him, gently rubbing his neck as she tried to keep out of the way of his flailing limbs. He calmed a bit once she arrived, but still kicked from time to time.
He was in bad shape. One wing lay under him, likely shattered, and his chest, and sides seemed damaged as well. His breathing was labored.... If he didn't get attention soon, he'd be good for nothing more than to be layed in a refuse heap, but this army had healers.... She'd seen them seal up wounds that were as bad as this was.
The Falcoknight heard a rock being disturbed nearby, and glanced over her shoulder, and spotted a bandit swordsman coming at her from behind with sword raised overhead. Her eyes narrowed at the set of targets.
Knee! Throat! Head! As he stepped closer, the man suddenly found his knee shattered, and bent backwards from where the bunt end of the Falcoknight's lance had rammed into it. He fell forward, screaming in surprise and pain, but found he couldn't scream anymore, for he'd fallen forward and crushed his own throat on the blunt end of the spear now whirling away from him. The finisher came as Clair brought the blade of the weapon around, and slapped it deep into the side of the man's head. He fell to the side, the life already gone from his eyes, before he slipped off the weapon and hit the ground.
With a watchful gaze aimed at the ground around her, Clair set to keeping Corona alive long enough for her to go and get a healer. She couldn't let herself be surprised by any of the multitude of bandits who would likely decide to turn and run soon.
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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 Jul 13, 2011 15:38:23 GMT -6
"Archers!" Farlus shouted as he maneuvered around to his group of archers and mages. The white haired mage was practically gasping for breath as the pain in his chest worsened. Clutching his breast, he continued his order.
"Aim your arrows at the top of the cliffs! Deal with the bandits that burden our troops! But do not fire until I give the command!" The archers nodded and aimed high. it then dawned on Farlus that the explosions may dislodge the rocks atop the cliffs. He could work that to his advantage if the vanguard could hold up. Limping to the main formation, he shouted once more, voice growing hoarse from all the yelling.
"Shields back in front! Everyone behind them or retreat behind the archers!" a bandit jumped at him, but was caught by a mage's thunder spell, leaving a sizzling husk on the ground. Farlus looked back at his group to find one of his mages holding a thunder tome. A thankful and quite shocked look was shot at the mage. If he had any power to commend the soldier, he would. He personally wasn't sure if he was even allowed to be commanding soldiers like he was, but Richter and Claire were nowhere to be found and these bandits needed to be dealt with.
Farlus took a deep breath and shouted one last order to the phalanx which was rapidly shifting to allow the original vanguard to the front. Some of the soldiers he sent to the back of the bandit's formations were doing their best to get behind them. Some were even running to him. Likely to get behind the archers, but it seemed they were preparing to protect their strategist upon seeing his wounded state.
"Prepare to receive boulders!" he turned to speak to the soldiers that gathered around him, "You soldiers, shields out. You will be cutting down the bandits that escape."
Farlus then turned to the archers and magi.
"Fire."
Streams of red streaked across the sky above them as the archers fired their arrows. The hail of arrows from the bandits suddenly stopped and explosions from the cliffs could be heard. Bodies flew from the cliffs above. As did rocks of varying sizes that began to roll down the mountainsides.
"Continue!" he told the archers and magi.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Jul 13, 2011 20:43:59 GMT -6
Leon stepped forward as the company reached the mountain's base. The company had had little luck in determining the direction of the battle, the mountain gave them good view of the battle, but they hadn't been able to determine side was which. The group was taking a long path, under the cover of trees, in order to get close enough to identify the Ilian army.
The cautious commander's orange eye raced back and forth, searching through the trees and maintaining a close watch on the skies. He was nervous about an ambush by a squad of brigands or myrmidons, but was more worried about an attack by a team of pegasus knights. The flying raiders posed more of a threat then a group of clumsy brigands, and more of a threat then most warriors preferred to acknowledge. They were swift and given their frail forms, unforgiving. Lest speed was on their side, a pegasus rider was finished should she miss on her first strike. A counterattack on a pegasus rider didn't only mean a nearly fatal blow to her less then hardy body, but had the added effect of disrupting their balance, and dislodging them from their white mount. They had to be able to hit on that first strike, and an experienced rider always did.
The company moved at a steady, cautious pace, unflinching as a row of bodies came into view. Leon tightened the grip of his bladehand as he approached one the bodies. "Form up." He muttered as he kneeled next to the motionless form. The other mercs readied their various weapons and took up defensive positions around their leader. For a moment Leon wondered how Alecros was handling this order of his. He had worked with pirates so he was probably acquainted with basic orders and tactics, but the way mercs and bandits worked WAS different. Well, the way Ilian mercs worked at least.
A leather glove reached down and felt for the warriors pulse. He could tell that this man was with Abend's forces, there was a section of his armor that bore a unique Ilian military crest. He waited a few moments, hoping that his fingers would feel a beat. Nothing. Leon sighed and closed his eyes, as if he'd been shaken by the loss of life. Quickly, he reopened his eyes and began to move the ex-soldier's head from side to side. Good, rigor mortus hadn't set in yet. The man had been slain recently, so the battle couldn't have started too long ago. Good, should things be headed in an ill direction for the Ilian army, then there was still time to turn it around.
Leon turned his head to see his backup staff-user, a young girl with pig tails named Karen, approach him. "Um.. is he?" She stuttered. "Dead?" Leon asked rhetorically, with an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, I'd say he was overwhelmed judging by the opposite punctures on his sides." He stated smoothly. "O..o.." The staff-wielder replied meekly, a tear beginning to well up in his eye. Damnit, Leon almost wished that he'd left Karen with Gate an the others. Of course he couldn't do that. He needed a staff user, and the caravan team needed a good leader. Leon placed his left hand on the girl's shoulder. "Hey, it's not so bad, look at the other bodies, most of them don't have the crest this guy's wearing." Karen sniffed, rubbing the tear out of her eye. "So?" She asked, sadly. Leon's eye glazed over, a look of... surprised disappointment? That was a terrible way to describe it. Leon slapped his head. "So, there are more dead bad guys then there are dead good guys." He said, in a dull voice. "O, that's good." She said, perking up a bit, a shadow of a smile appeared on her face. Leon shook his head and stood up. Were it not for Aragog, his thief's, urging, he wouldn't have let this girl join the company. She was a bleeding heart who shied away from real blood. Even so, she was always eager to heal people, even if they weren't wounded. A arm for a leg, as some would say.
The light-blue haired merc rose to his feet, shooing Karen off and checking his surroundings. They needed to start moving again, there was no telling how the battle was going and Leon had found what he was looking for. Keeping his eyes on the path in front Leon ordered his team. "Move out."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 16, 2011 0:23:14 GMT -6
Standing up, and dusting her hands off, Clair studied her work. She'd applied the vulnerary in such a way as to limit bleeding, and add to stability. It was the last of her stores of the substance, as well. What she was able to do for Corona had been done. The rest was up to him, and the first healer she snagged. That would be easier if the battle was over though. What was taking so long? Weren't the frontlines doing their jobs?
With anxiety, Clair picked up her lance, and started jogging towards the battle. Pain from countless bumps and bruises assaulted her as she picked over a hill of rock, until she saw it: the battle lines. Thankfully, it looked like she was in a spot that would put her in the right spot. In other words, not at the bandits' back. There were so many that it reminded her of her first battle, in Sacae. It had been an overwhelming force that had come against them then as well. This was a large enemy, but they lacked the cohesion and the practice that Richter's force had acquired over the years.
The front was performing well, but wasn't making any headway. Richter couldn't be seen, and there were relatively few line commanders present to keep things in shape. Pushing through to where the fighting began, Clair realized that there was no frontline anymore. Just a mass of intermingled fighting. Pressing in, she joined the fray, keeping her killer lance out in front of her.
Seeing a chance to begin reshaping the battle, Clair approached. A pair of duelists. One was one of hers, the other a bandit. Neither seemed able to make any head way against the other. That didn't last long, as Clair's deadly lance pierced the brigand's side and heaved him over into the snow.
The swordsman who she'd helped turned to look at who had come to his aid, and smiled as the spark of recognition lit in his eyes.
"Follow me! We're going to gather up enough fighters to smash enemy morale, and turn them back like the cowards they are!" Clair's voice rang out over the din of battle, loud enough to be heard by the man she'd helped, as well as those immediately around him. Within a few moments, the small Falcoknight had an equally small group of fighters following her towards the front lines, but they continued to grow as the neared where the lines should be. They suffered a few losses, but they didn't fight fair, and rolled over whatever groups of enemies tried to oppose them, picking up more and more allies as they went.
By this time, the Falcoknight had cleared an entire section of The Etrurian Renegades' army of enemies, and had about thirty assorted warriors following her. That would be enough to break the enemy lines. It would have to be enough. The longer this battle contiued, the more casualties would occur.
"Shields! Move to the front! Spears, line up in the center!" Clair quickly moved to the center as well, acting as a landmark for the rest of the troops to form up on.
"Axes and swords on the side edges!" She watched as the men shuffled through the chaos until a semblance of what she had in mind was achieved.
"Now! Charge together! Chaaarge!" Her voice was overtaken in the sudden uproar of shouts as they all charged as one unit. Whenever an ally was in their path, the filtered around him. Like water around a rock, they continued their charge until they came into contact with a large mass of enemies. Here, the shields came into play, setting up a defensive wall for the spear fighters, like herself, to hide behind while they impaled the enemy. It was like a meat grinder. The bandits kept throwing themselves at the shields, only to be stabbed by a spearman on approach. Clair, with her smaller stature, didn't even get a chance to reach out and hit an enemy during this point.
Eventually, the bandits started to notice how quickly they were dying against the formation, and started trying to avoid the block of spears. It made little difference. If they didn't attack Clair's group, then the group eventually approached them. T Enough of the bandit's got the idea that death awaited them ahead, and the cohesion of the force here shattered. Most bandits turned to run, only a few staying to continue the fight. Seeing this, Clair shouted out to free the troops with her.
"Break formation! Kill the stragglers!"
The group scattered, moving to their own targets, and Clair found herself engaged with a tall, well armed, well armored swordsman. He had two out, one in each hand, and still had a third sword hanging from his belt as well as an assortment of knives and such. They circled each other, the lanky man smirking down at the blond haired girl. The girl moved with a predatory grace which only those truly linked with their weapons could manage.
The long armed man struck out with both swords, slashing them both towards the middle. Clair merely hopped backwards, ignoring the pains in her ribs as she landed. He repeated the attack, but this time Clair held her lance crosswise, across her body, and twisted, slapping one blade upwards, and another down, before continuing the twirl and bringing the lance around in a downward slash at the man's shoulder. This time he was the one to step back, but Clair pursued him. She thrust at his chest, only to be sidestepped, and have him approach again. This had been partially expected by the Falcoknight though, due to her battle with Endellion, and she had a back up plan.
Dropping her lance to the trampled ground, she used the flat of her lance like a spade, to slice out a portion of snow melted earth, and slung the mud into the brigand's eyes. Following through, she guided the tip of her lance into a strike on the man's right hand, piercing it, and knocking his weapon to the ground, before continuing the strike once more, and slapping the man's remaining blade aside with the blunt end of her lance. Stepping in again, Clair slipped past the man, slashing at his waist with her weapon, and watching as his clood spilled from the new tear around his stomach. Almost by instinct, Clair reached out a hand, and caught the man's sword belt as it fell, belt rent apart by the lance strike she'd made.
Slowly, the Officer looked around, and saw that the fighting in the front was done. Most of the bandits had turned and fled, and the few that remained were dead or dying.
"Well fought soldiers! The front is retaken. I want the shields and spears to hold here. Axes and swords, let's go and help the back!" With a flurry of movement, Clair Feldsky, and a number of melee troops turned around, and started heading towards the back, where fighting had still been heard until recently.
OoC: Consider the front battle done.
Also, there's the iron sword I purchased earlier. :)>
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Post by Valcrist on Jul 16, 2011 12:36:07 GMT -6
The smell of death remained thick in the air, only now it was no longer the Ilians who were being cut down, but the brigands who were being slaughtered. He couldn't claim to know the outcome of how the front lines were fairing, but the back were doing quite well for themselves. It appears that the Dark Hunter's force, or whatever, was being quite successful in routing the assault that targeted them in the guise of an ambush. A little bit of trouble with some mages, but those were taken down handily by him and the white haired man. From the shifting of the allied forces, it was doing that one thing with the shields and stuff that everyone does. They were lucky the mages were taken care of, they probably could of caused some real mayhem with everyone gathered together like that.
Val, himself, wasn't with the meat of the force. Not because he abandoned them, or thought himself better or anything. Rather his keen eye for details picked out something unusual in the distance, not too far from where they were. It was a mostly empty area with trees and dead bodies, but amidst it he saw a few figures and what appeared to be horses. He cautiously approached, as he moved he passed several other soldiers hurrying to position near the dark skinned mage, but were flagged down by the passing myrmidon.
"Wait, come with me, I'm going to check the perimeter. I saw some movements." Val said simply to each group he passed. A few left and began to come with him, as they probably were headed to behind the archers anyways where they could do little to help. Not to mention Val's little demonstration with the windsword earlier and fighting with the tactician made him somewhat recognizable. Not that there were a lot of dark skinned blond boys with a powerful magical blade dressed in green on the battlefield, but who knows? Maybe Val has a doppelganger somewhere.
Eventually Val managed to gather himself a small, but formidable detachment. Though he was more or less leading it, his mind seemed to skip that part. Good thing too, else he's probably would of been paralyzed by the sudden realization and responsibility. Battle made it harder to think about such things. His trusted blade stood ready in his hand, and he was ready for a battle if it came to it. They moved quickly, under the cover of trees. The small size of the force lending itself well to the swiftness that Val desired and unconsciously demanded as the rest of them tried to keep up.
As he neared, his anxieties begin to kick in. What if they were dangerous? What if they saw them coming? What if this is an ambush? He'd die, and get these men killed! Should he say something? Halt? That sounds so cheesy. Luckily for him, adrenaline was a bit stronger then his anxiety and pushed him forward. "Stop." They didn't seem as though they've been fighting, and they didn't look like bandits. He eyed them warily as he continued, his little group moving closer in their Ilian armors. "This is a battle zone, identify yourself."
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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 Jul 16, 2011 14:06:56 GMT -6
The soldiers all got into position. Some of the bandits overheard Farlus and made a move to escape, but were stopped by the wall of shields the tactician had set up and quickly skewered. The other ones to escape raced to the front. However, the sounds of battle had faded from that direction. Farlus was sure they could handle a few stragglers. The rocks came flying down the mountainside, some breaking into pieces and others picking up snow and partially frozen mud along the way, growing larger. The brigand force was crushed one by one by the rolling boulders.
Farlus limped up to the top of a boulder on the ground beside him to get a better view. The rock slide was like a giant brush wiping the canvas clean of the unwanted "bandit" color. A nearly sinister smile displayed itself on Farlus' face and he had the urge to laugh at the scene, but held it in. Focus was crucial as the rocks reached the phalanx. The bandits functioned as a wall of flesh that slowed most of the boulders so when the stones finally reached the shields, they were simple to manage. Sounds of stone slamming into metal and wood ran through the relatively empty battlefield.
However, it seemed there were more rocks than he had expected. Farlus turned to the magi and gave his last order that day.
"Magi! The rocks! Break them apart!" came Farlus exhausted voice. Explosions and bolts of lightning assaulted the rockslide and the white haired mage did what he could to help with what little strength he had left. A gigantic cloud of dust rose from the mayhem and Farlus' heart pounded as it was slowly blown away. When the dust cleared, the phalanx stood. Battered, but alive. The tactician's heart leapt in his chest. They won! Oh, how he missed this rush! Cheers and whooping filled the air, but Farlus did his best to keep his composure. Mainly because he was too tired to jump up and cheer, but also because he remembered he had an image to uphold.
The mage watched as a few survivors rushed toward the front. However, the man's keen eyes and ears found signs of a force headed their way from that direction. His heart raced once more.
"Please be us..." he whispered to himself.
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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 Jul 16, 2011 19:15:44 GMT -6
The bandit about to strike David had been hit by a random arrow. As lucky as that was, there was now a dead body laying on top of him while he slowly bled to death. With the strength of only one arm, he couldn't move the bandit off of himself.
"So, is this how my life ends? Bleeding to death under the body weight of a fat bandit? I suppose it's fitting, heh." Rather than struggling to get up, David rested. He fell asleep, the best sleep he had in a while.
Perhaps it was his mind relaxing after finally doing something good. Maybe it was the alcohol finally cleaning out of his system. Regardless, he slept better than any night in Ilia.
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Leontius
Mercenary
[M:0]
These men, his men
Posts: 32
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Post by Leontius on Jul 17, 2011 17:38:50 GMT -6
Leon eyed the small troop before him curiously. To his delight, he successfully spotted a number of crests similar to that of the one worn by the deceased Ilian he'd examined few ways back. While this kept that single eye of his more then occupied, what really caught was the leader of these Ilians. There couldn't have been more then ten of them and at the head of the force stood one of the strangest things Leon had ever seen. It was a boy, a blonde Sacaen boy, by the looks of it. How impressive, the blonde-haired swordsman must have possessed exceptional talent in order to be leading a squad at such a young age. Of course, Leon could have been giving the tanned character more credit then he deserved. They was more then one way to place yourself in command. Money talks, and the easiest way to garner a mercenaries loyalty and servitude was with a fat paycheck. For all Leon knew, this tanned boy could be a spoiled rich kid. No, what was he thinking? That was a ridiculous thought. The leaders of Ilia were running this show. There was no way they'd let some pompous amateur muck things up. Plus the soldiers at his side seemed very obedient. They stood still, weapons at the ready and silent so that they might hear their leader's commands.
The mercenary commander visibly twitched at the request to identify himself. What, did his company of mercenaries come off as a common rabble of highway bandits or something? Leon liked to think that he kept his force in better condition then that. He pinched his nose, trying to prevent himself from snapping at the boy. He couldn't blame him after all, had he been in his position, Leon would have done the exact same thing.
Still affected by the shock of running into such a young commander, Leon tentatively gazed at the Sacaen. "My name is Leonitus Aurelei, commander of the mercenaries you see before you." He held up a flat left hand, as if to assure the swordsman that he meant no harm. "We were en-route to Bern to meet up with Abend's forces. But it would seem that he's run into some unexpected trouble. We were planning on lending our assistance." Leon paused for a moment, only now realizing how bizarre this encounter was. Weren't the Ilian forces fully engaged? How could they divert troops for a perimeter sweep? What if this was a trap? Could he trust that these men were who they appeared to be? No, he couldn't. This felt all too much like an ambush scenario. Even so, there was little the stern Ilian could do. Running would lead him to default on his contract, but following could get the majority of his company killed. He needed to play this carefully, lest he lead his men to their deaths. "Are you one of his officers? A lieutenant perhaps? Could you lead us to the battlefield? We are more then eager to earn our keep." Leon kept his voice neutral, trying to with-hold his creeping suspicion.
(I'm aware that Val is Nabatan. Leon just mistakes him for a Sacaen due to his tan and clothing. Well that and the fact that Leon has never met a Nabatan)
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 17, 2011 18:59:46 GMT -6
Clair's eyes caught the cloud of dust rising ahead. That wasn't something she'd ordinarily run straight into, but this WAS a warzone. Caution couldn't always be first priority. Not when duty called her in, regardless of the situation. The several soldiers gathered around her started to slow a bit in response to the cloud, but Clair urged them on.
"C'mon! You've got friends depending on you back there. Keep pace!"
Ahead, in the clearing dust, the Falcoknight was relieved to see Illian forces standing. A moment later, she even managed to pick out the strange dark skin, and the white hair of the army's new staff officer. He looked in bad shape, but alive.
"Allies coming in!" Clair raised her voice to be heard as she led her group of skirmishers in. She saw the soldiers ease up at seeing their blond-haired sky knight apporaching, and headed for Farlus, her group scattering into a loose ring to surround the two.
"Farlus. Looks like you have things in hand here." Her smile at seeing him alive and well muted some, as other concerns moved in. "Tell me... what's your situation?
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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 Jul 17, 2011 20:59:15 GMT -6
Farlus let out a long sigh of relief when he saw familiar armor on the force headed their way.His spirits heightened even more as Clair's voice shouted in their direction. So she made it after all. The mage slumped off the boulder he was standing upon and rested against it, right hand holding his chest. The pain was becoming even worse. Clair approached him, soldiers gathering around them.
'You could say that..." Farlus looked at his superior with tired eyes, "As for how I am faring. I managed to get run through. Ugh!" the tactician winced as a jolt of pain shot through his torso.
"I dulled the pain with a poultice, but I think just moving is ripping up my... ugh! Insides." he let out a cry of pain as another wave shot through his chest. This time causing his legs to buckle and sending him to his knees. Farlus moved himself so he was laying against the boulder he was using as a platform and did his best to crack a confident smirk, "You wouldn't happen to have any healers in that crowd, would you?"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 18, 2011 17:37:40 GMT -6
Clair tried to step forward, and ease the mage down to lean on his boulder, but he mostly managed that on his own. The blood on his chest had hidden just how badly he'd been wounded. He was in danger of his blood freezing, if he didn't fail of blood loss first.... Frozen blood didn't flow and carry oygen as it should.
Once again, Feldsky cursed the large bandit under her breath. If Corona hadn't been injured so severely, then she could simply fly off and find one, but her party consisted of only sword and axe fighters.
"I don't have any healers here Farlus, but I have need of one to. I'm sure there are several around. Lie still, and we'll get one here right away." Clair had kneeled down next to the dark skinned man, and was speaking urgently to him. She had mastered the urge to panic in the aftermath of a battle long ago, but that didn't alter the importance any.
She waved over three soldiers, and sent each off on a slightly different path towards the center of the army with instructions to bring a healer back quickly. They needed at least two healers, but having an extra one in the neighborhood could only help.
Turning back to Farlus, Clair's face took on a serious expression, a bit of anxiety leaking through. "Keep talking to me, Farlus. Where's the the Commander? Where did you see Richter last?"
Where had their pink-haired leader gotten off to? She'd not seen him for the entire battle, it seemed. If he was off somewhere, injured, then she needed to find him. Or what if he was dead?
Something inside her shrieked in pain and terror at the thought of a dead Richter: at losing him. It was impossible. That would never happen. It couldn't be. No, she wouldn't even allow herself to consider such a happening.... Not until his body was laid out on the earth before her.
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Post by Garith Valkyrie on Jul 18, 2011 22:15:03 GMT -6
Garith didn't follow the men who had saved him he limped to a near by large rock and sat by it head leaned up against it. He was tired, in pain and for some odd reason really hungry. Luckily for him there were no more battles coming his way and he could hear the battle dying out anyway. This was good news for Garith's party they could take a moment to rest now after the big fight. Garith got up from his spot and looked around. He was actually looking for Richter he hadn't seen the pink haired man in a while and wondered where he had gone off too. He then spotted Clair and figured that she would know where Richter would be. So he started to walk over to where Clair was but got this weird feeling that the worse was yet to come. Garith quickly ignored this feeling and kept walking toward Clair.
As he got a little bit closer to her he could hear here talking with Farlus about Richter. It seemed that she didn't know where he was either but Garith walked a tad bit closer to over hear their conversation. He then could feel an immense pain in his side where he had gotten stabbed before by a lance. Garith then sat down near Clair and the other man and try to listen out to the whereabouts of his commander
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Post by Valcrist on Jul 18, 2011 22:53:30 GMT -6
"Mercenaries." Dear great divine figure that watches over them that Valcrist probably didn't believe in, there were far too many mercenaries in Ilia. Now that he thought about it, all those caravans that visited his village... a lot of the mercenaries that accompanied them were really pale like the Ilians. Quite a few pegasus knights too for that matter. He's heard stories and rumors of Ilia's love for the hired hands, but he had come across so many mercenaries since he started his trek it was almost funny. And by funny, he meant depressing. It reminded him of his home, only instead of works of art they killed people to make up for the lack of farmlands.
This man, and his scarred face, appeared much older then the swordsman. He kept his ornate blade at ready, looking the force over as the man talked. He kept his guard up, because he really wasn't about ready to forfeit his life because of being too trusting. You only get one, can't waste it. Still the words the man said let him relax slightly. Richter was their pink haired commander... He remembered reading tales about Richter. He was one of men involved in the bandit war five years ago. Still it all felt a bit surreal, including what was happening right now. ESPECIALLY what was happening right now. Sweet merciful Berserker where did Val get any of the confidence he was showing right now?
So they were headed to Bern and just so happened to bump into the main force? Geez how did everyone know where they were going? "Richter Abend is my boss." He thought for a moment to say 'commanding officer' but that felt all kinds of weird. "You came a bit late though, the fighting's just about wrapped up. I'm not a commander, or anything. Just a scouting team." Once again his mind played with the idea of simply saying he was a blacksmith. It would of been hilarious to see his reaction, but that wasn't really a reaction that would lend itself useful right now.
"I hope you don't mind if I'm a bit suspicious. A lot of people died here today, and I'm not exactly keen on the idea of more dying. I can take you to the tactician, he's not that far from here. But we'll have to keep an eye one you." Val let out a small sigh. Happy that it wasn't anything, well, dangerous. No one here trying to murder him, sometimes it felt like that's all anyone ever did.
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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 Jul 18, 2011 23:54:53 GMT -6
Farlus laid back farther and took a painful breath. He hadn't seen Richter since he headed to the back where he spent the rest of the battle.
"Not since... the beginning of the battle, milady. I... spoke to the Commander... and broke for the rear to enact a plan. I have not... seen him... since." Farlus' wheezing made his speech slow. He felt cold. He knew that if he didn't get a healer soon there would be nothing they could do. You can't resurrect the dead, after all. He thought of drinking more medicine, but that wouldn't have helped this time. He was past the point where pain was any concern. It was more of a fight just to keep himself from drifting out of that world. He heard stories and theories of what it was like after death and they all fascinated him, but Farlus wasn't ready to find out himself.
"What of you? How are you faring, milady?" he addressed his superior. He was genuinely concerned, but it was also to give him something else to focus on. Something to keep him from drifting away.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jul 19, 2011 18:00:00 GMT -6
No news of Richter's whereabouts.... Well, that didn't mean much. Battles were large and chaotic, and Richter was probably just on the other side of the field somewhere. She turned her attention to Farlus' question instead.
Though it contradicted the damaged ribs, the bruise forming above her eye, and the multitude of other injuries she carries, Clair tried to work up a small, confident smile for the tactician. She considered it her duty to always appear ready to handle any situation that could come up. That's what commanders were to their soldiers. The towers which they rallied around.
"Bumps, bruises, sprains." She winced a bit at a pain spike in her ribs as she shifted, but recovered after a moment.
"Maybe a few worse injuries.... Nothing too dangerous." Her smile turned somewhat grim. She hoped it wasn't anything too bad. Endellion's attacks still hurt though. She paused for a moment, trying to think of something for him to focus on.
"You should have seen the brute I killed. Hard, murderous features, fire-red hair... A build like an ox. I've only seen one other man as big as he...."
The Deputy Commander Glanced up at the sound of footsteps approaching. Two of the soldiers she'd sent out as messengers were returning with a pair of healers in tow.
"The healer's here, Farlus."
Clair stood up, and grabbed one of the two staff wielders, pulling him, and four of her soldiers aside as the other moved to Farlus. Just one trained healer could do incredible things. That was what she was counting on here.
"Yes, Lady Feldsky?" The healer looked a bit bewildered by his orders to come here, when the injured were everywhere.
"You know enough to heal horses, and steeds, correct?" Clair's voice was direct, and no-nonsense as she questioned the man. Satisfied with his quick nod, and mouthed word of acknowledgement, Clair pointed off towards the cliffs, and spoke again.
"My Pegasus, Corona, is out toward the crack in the cliffs there, in barely stable condition. You are going to go and keep him alive. You will not deviate from your course. You will not put him down without my express permission!" Her voice snapped a bit on the last sentence, causing the healer's eyes to pop a bit, despite already being wide from the carnage around him.
"Officer Feldsky.... There are so many men wounded, shouldn't I work on them?" He seemed a bit hesitant as he questioned her orders. Clair's eyes sparked a bit. He meant well, but she wouldn't have it right now.
"You should work on the soldiers. So, I would hurry up and stabilize that pegasus so you can hurry back to the main army. Now go!" She started to turn back to check on Farlus' condition before tossing back over her shoulders some orders for the soldiers she'd pulled aside.
"You four keep him safe."
Corona was more than simply a pet or companion to her. He was her primary weapon on the battlefield. Take him away, and she became just another fighter on the battlefront. With him though, she could scout for miles around, drop down on enemies from above,... Even crush them under his strength. That was why she would choose to take a healer from the army for her faithful white steed.
Death. It's the cost of war. We can try to avoid it, or divert it, but the only thing we can count on is that it's what comes against us in our bloody dance of conflict.
This hadn't been a mere bandit raid. This was organized by Etruria's agents in Illia. No way could bandits have prepared such an attack on their own. The third healer and soldier finally arrived. She'd keep them with her, as she moved about the area. There would be those in need. First though, she wanted to know how Farlus would be. She turned back to watch the mage's progress.
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