Wyatt
Hero
The Volcano
How can someone win if winning means that someone loses?
Posts: 463
Etruria Fame: 2
Sacae Fame: -1
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Post by Wyatt on Jan 4, 2013 16:23:10 GMT -6
Wyatt was barely aware of Mana or Kenshin, he was focused on the coward before him. He didn't drop his gaze, he let it burn into the man, who wisely fled from the area. It was at that point that he realized what had been going on, what had been said, and what WAS happening now.
[red]"W..What are you doing?"[/red] He croaked out, his body still burning and sizzling from the attack. Much of his skin was burned, his armor blackened from the pristine luster it had prior to the tournament. His breath came hard as he leaned on the axe handle. [red]"It's not over...you have to fight."[/red] He groaned, wishing he could join them in jumping into the fray. But like this, he'd just get in the way.
[red]"I'm...not dying just yet. Help him, he cannot...*huff* win alone..."[/red] He managed out weakly. In truth, he felt a lot weaker then his words implied. All the strength was leaving his body, and he had to wonder if this was what death felt like. But if he was to die here, he didn't wish worry for him to cause the death of someone else. Valcrist was the one who needed help now.
Wyatt knew that he was beyond help. Even if he survived the day, there was no way he'd ever be the same after this. He gave a smile to Mana anyway.
[red]"You...wanted to be the master of..the sword right? Go...prove it."[/red]
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Post by Richter Abend on Jan 5, 2013 12:17:40 GMT -6
As Richter approached, he began to be able to identify the tournament fighters standing before Marcus. The Maiden of the Blade, the Masked Swordsman, and Wyatt seemed to be lying injured on the ground. Meanwhile, Marcus looked absolutely horrible; battered and bloodied like Richter had never seen the dragon before. Looks like even a legendary creature like a dragon couldn't stand up to such an onslaught of steel.
Dammit, Richter swore to himself, as he felt the wound on his leg close up and his step become slightly more lively. What could he do do? He couldn't fight everyone, but if he didn't, Marcus would be killed!
"Damm-!" Richter began to shout, drawing the breath from his lungs, but he found said breath lacking as a great, white wing struck him head on, forcing the wind from his lungs. The black haired fighter was ripped from his feet and thrown ten more backwards, landing on his back with an unceremonious thud. A loud, shrieking cry sounded from above him, and as Richter gathered his senses, he saw the fearsome white wyvern that had struck him alight upon the ground, its large wings outstretched and its dark red eyes staring him down staring at him hungrily. It's dagger like teeth poking out from under its cruel, vicious sneer, but despite its previous aggression, the white wyvern made no significant movement.
"The Winter Lion really is a bit too auspicious a title for you, don't you think?" The Ilian scrambled to his feet, and turned his gaze upwards to match that of the wyvern's rider. It was him, the Etrurian that had hunted him down back in Ilia. "I'd think 'The First Lambling of Spring' would fit you more appropriately."
"I don't have time for this," growled Richter, picking up his runesword before attempting to dash under the wyvern's outstretched wing. But try as he did, the Ilian was halted, knocked back on his rear by the wyvern's large, cedar-like tail that had come up to greet him.
"You will make time, Richter Abend," came the sneering reply. "Besides, what do you hope to do over there? Kill everyone then save the dragon? Because I guarantee you're not going to get much help in your endeavors, what with the city guard having shown up to join the fight."
"Move out of the way," came Richter's single minded reply. He tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword, quickly losing his patience.
"Now that Kenshin has shown up," continued Alranus, unfazed and glancing behind him, "I should probably redirect what's left of the rebels towards the city guard. No doubt the Crimson Demon and that band of misfits can handle themselves. There was a pause, as Alranus looked back at Richter. "Though that's assuming they haven't already begun doing so. They're fairly autonomous, these rebels. Went after your lady friend with no urging from me."
Richter bit his lip at the Etrurian's words, remembering the wyverns that had been pursuing Clair earlier. It pained him to not know where she was at the moment. He hoped she was safe, and held onto that thought, but still, he couldn't be sure.
"What do you want, Alranus? What interest does the Prophet have in Bern?" asked Richter, his voice low and harsh.
"To incite rebellion, obviously" came the utterly blasé response. "Why else do you think I'd be bumping elbows with rebels? I thought you were sharp enough to put two and two together."
"Why? To divide and conquer?"
"That's where I stop telling."
A bolt of light erupted from Alranus's hand, its target Richter, who narrowly sidestepped the magical projectile. As the magic hit the sand, it erupted into light, half-blinding the Ilian, and after dazing his foe, Alranus decided to follow up. Urging his wyvern forward, the Etrurian spy rammed into Richter, his mount tossing the man aside with a flick of its head.
"Come now, are you going to spend this whole fight on your back?"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jan 5, 2013 20:14:57 GMT -6
Around the fringes of the rubble-strewn arena, figures flitted about. Remnants of the watchers in the tournament, were accompanied out by guards fitted out in jangling mail and light plate. Heavier soldiers were the ones focused on securing the area and making an end of the dragon. There was little they could do against such a creature though. Few were willing to risk a head on confrontation with it, and their captain had not ordered them to anyway. It was only the archers that needed to worry about attracting attention, and it didn't look as though they were having much affect.
The Captain himself stood at a high position overlooking the battlegrounds before him, a mage paired with him. A look of fury was painted on his face, but he held his position. He'd only been a low ranking officer at the time of Bern's cataclysm eight years before, when a dragon had laid waste to his Kingdom's capital city. That destruction had been a part of his quick rise to power, and if there was something he could do to stop the dragon's rampage then it would be done. Preferably with as much brutality as possible.
[teal]Fire on the dragon![/teal] Aarows cascaded in from all around the aren, occasional spell fires lighting up the area in a blazing surge as their fire was added to the tempest fury of the assault directed at the terrifying beast before them. As his own mage's lightning was crackling, ready to join in the storm being unleashed, the captain rested a hand on the mages shoulder.
[teal]"Save your strength for something more important. You'll only exhaust yourself fruitlessly."[/teal]
He watched as the battle around the dragon continued with all of its outrageous explosions and acrobatics. The fight between the two legends, Kenshin and Richter, seemed to have broken off. Kenshin at least seemed to be turning himself to something worthy of being accomplished by looking to the dragon. Richter had somehow gotten into a fracas with the Lieutenant of wyvern riders. Ramus Gyax, or something of the sort. It wasn't someone he was familiar with, or knew personally, but he'd been appointed specifically by someone over William's head, so he didn't have much say in it. It had been a sore spot when the Captain had heard he would be involved in secruing the arena during such an unbalanced time. Turns out his concerns had been right.
[teal]"Break up the fight. And, give him a warning shock. Remind him where his true attention lies.[/teal] William growled out, sword point directing attention to the two combatants and shield hefted slightly. Around anyone else, such an order would have been unthinkable, but with William's reputation for an odd sort of rough and brutish discipline, it took only a moment's hesitation and a bit of William's glare leveled on him for the mage to jump to it. Sparks began gathering as the mage held his book up and opened it, lines of ink glowing an electric blue. For a moment, it looked as though the spell had fizzled as the light closed off, but then there was a flash and a bolt of lightning arced out from somewhere over the Mage and William, its forks shooting down to spark through the white wyvern and its rider.
[teal]"Stand down Lieutenant! Return to leading your men against the dragon!"[/teal] Above, the Captain could be seen descending a few steps, his voice angrily rumbling down ahead of him. The mage trailed behind, clearly not wanting to take part, but not willing to risk leaving the Captain either.
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Hiro
Rogue
I love stealing, I love taking things.
Posts: 216
Profession: Professional ladies man
OoC Alias: Hal
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Post by Hiro on Jan 7, 2013 2:35:40 GMT -6
Hiro was finishing up his shopping when people had started pouring out of the arena while guards had been rushing it. Hiro had stopped one man to find out an assassin attacked a fighter, rebels started to attack, and a dragon attacked. Pure chaos in the arena, the guards would be busy fighting to stop looters. It's payday, assuming there isn't other looters that beat him to the punch. Hiro let a sly smile escape behind his mask as he rapidly approached the arena. As he entered he saw a black haired man being tossed around like a rag doll by a man on top of a white wyvern. Looking around it sure looked like chaos so he knelt down starting searching bodies.
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Post by Kenshin on Jan 7, 2013 14:41:35 GMT -6
Kenshin had watched on as the young swordsman continued to fight the dragon, to go head on alone like that was suicide. A devilish smile crept on Kenshin's face, attacking a dragon alone was the same as attacking an army alone, or attacking the self proclaimed Bandit King on his home front multiple times basically alone. The kid reminded Kenshin of himself in his younger days, he wasn't going to allow the dragon to kill him.
Before leaving home he promised to return, he wasn't going to deny his wife and daughter seeing their loved one nor will he deny the soldier's families a chance to hold them again. It didn't matter if he was bruised and beat up the time for action was now. "Escape with your lives if you must, I am not leaving this place until the dragon takes it's final breath." Fighting this thing should be similar to a wyvern except it was much larger and had a deadly breath, it's scales would be thicker as well he guessed. There was no time to figure out a plan, he'd have to fighting it using trail and error supported with his swordsmen abilities. The archers aim seemed well enough he didn't have to fear being struck by an arrow.
Using his thumb he pushed his blade up enough to loosen it in the hilt as he placed his right hand on it as he started a quick jog, he had to make it to aid the boy in time. Once he was within striking range of the beast he drew his sword with a full arch swing, using the unsheathing to speed up his blade. With each twist of his body his rib cage shot out pain everybody in his midsection, he would have to ignore it for now.
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Post by Plot Device on Jan 23, 2013 17:28:13 GMT -6
The dragon roared in pain as the blades and arrows began sinking further and further into his hide, which once deflected them with ease. His vision hazy, the world seemed to become very quiet...and in the moments before what he knew was to be his demise, he sensed things that now seemed so unimportant. The swordsmen around him, dancing about his large and lumbering body, their blades cutting into him. The arrows, flying straight and true, very few missing the large target that he was. The wyverns and pegasi dancing about his head, spears flying from them. Every cut, every stab, all it felt like a small push, even the pain was leaving him.
And in this, the twilight of his life, his eyes caught something as they swept over the arena, his vision hazy. A man on his back, a Wyvern over him. The man...he had a long black sword, and a matching mane of hair. It looked almost like a lion's mane...
And in that moment, Odintongue felt everything come into a profound focus. His life, his story was over, but with his last breath, he would not be a monster. He called on the power of his bloodline, more then he ever had before. On every drop of it that remained, and as he took what might be his last breath, his maw began to glow with a radiant light.
He felt his body growing cold, as the last remaining energy in his body coalesced into form. With an earth shaking roar, the storm of magic flew forth. It was not aimed at the swordsmen, the city, or anyone attacking him. This, the last of his life, was to be used undoing all the evil he had done.
All he had wanted to do was to protect his friends. That was why he'd gone to Etruria, to stop the prophet. But...how many...how many innocents had he killed in his pursuit of his justice? What gave him the right to decide what people were 'acceptable losses' for the peace? The assassin that stabbed him had been taking revenge for what he had done to them. What this monster had done.
And if he were to die today, as he knew was approaching, then he would die as a man, not a monster. His breath, stronger then it had ever been, was directed at the Wyvern above Richter, and after a moment there he turned it to the sky. To the middle of the Wyvern formation he directed the deadly storm, as quite a few of the beasts fell from the sky, life having left them long before they hit the ground. Those remaining were thrown into panic and disarray by the assault, if not outright fleeing before the grandiose display.
And slowly, the raging blast subsided, fading away into a grim silence that overtook the battlefield. His form shrank away almost instantly, as he stared over the battlefield once more, everything was mere blurs of color now. He looked down, at the crystal he held in his hand...it used to seem so much brighter. Now, barely a flicker of light remained, winking dangerously.
He looked up for a moment, a hint of a smile coming to his blood flecked lips. All the death...all the pain he'd caused. If he'd...if he'd helped Richter to survive...helped Clair to escape, then it was all worth it.
And as his body fell, collapsing forward onto the ruined stands, the dragonstone slipped free, skidding and bouncing down the rubble. It landed on the main field of battle, where the light within faded into darkness...
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Edrick
Shaman
Even in darkness one can devote themself to the light.
Posts: 114
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Jack of all Trades
Affinity: Light
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Post by Edrick on Jan 23, 2013 18:03:23 GMT -6
"Fine, but keep your damn head down. There's too much chaos for everyone to stop to one man." Edrick sighed in his head and said "Thank you, there is safety in numbers."
Suddenly out of no where as he was running up the rubble that was the ruined side of the arena Someone ran right into him. "Ahh ... I am sorry, I was not paying attention," The man started to apologize after they both hit the ground. "It's ok, I'm ok, I think." Edrick said as he got up and brushed the dust and small chunks of rocks off of his cloak. "Hay you fought in the tournament right? Perrin was it? Ah, sorry I don't have time to talk I need to study that dragon!" Edrick exclaimed as he stood up and dove behind one of the row dividers, "this is amazing! I never thought I would be able to study a dragon, especially one this close! Too bad there are many people attacking it. maybe after this is over I could collect some scales, or maybe even a claw!" Just the thought of being able to test some things on scales made him happy. Edrick then peeked up over the stone structure to look at the dragon.
The dragon seemed to gain a sudden burst of strength as it, despite it numerous injuries, rose up and started launching bolts of lightning at random targets. Then the dragon seemed to, transform. it turned to what appeared to be a human and collapsed where it was fighting.
"It's over?" Edrick said as he watched the 'dragon' fall from its mighty stance, something as it fell. "I can't feel the power that was there before." then Edrick stood up and began to walk over towards the corpse of the 'dragon'. "maybe I could find some scales that fell off during the battle! or even that thing that it dropped....."
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Post by Jya on Jan 23, 2013 20:35:06 GMT -6
OOC: So I am going to post on how she survived this encounter and bring Lyrt in. /Got permission from Mel to Godmod if required.
Jya's best shot worked, well it sort of worked. She had managed to get Calvin and Isabel past the wall only to be shoved aside by a pair of fleeing scoundrels. She wasn't any different though and probably even more of a coward compared to those two. It seems the only time she can muster up any form of courage was only when her friends were in danger. At the very least she had a certain unselfishness in her nature in protecting them. Even after the two men fled well into the hole, she was unable to bring herself to go through the same. Perhaps it was because she had lost track of Lyrt. The girl was close by only moments ago.
Her eyes darted, sweeping across the arena and flinching at the sight of the dragon. There was no way she was going to survive without some form of contingency plan. Even as she peeked into the hole in the wall, there was a number of curious fighters or injured people who could not go on staring out. If she went in there, would they notice her? Snapping back to a far more pressing issue, she needed to find her archer friend as quickly as possible. The more time they wasted the less likely they were to survive.
It took what seemed liked ages before she reached her friend. There was no time to waste as this time she grabbed the girl by the wrist and began to drag them away from the hole in the wall. Yes, that was no longer a viable option, especially with the number of people who was obviously alert to everyone that entered through. She hoped that Isabel and Calvin weren't suspected but she highly doubted that it would be just as easy as running past. It was madness to think that soldiers were actually heading into the arena.
The time that it took to find the hiding spot was excruciating. She wished she could just bury deep down into the earth's center but the piles of body would do. They were freshly killed, laying against one another not from natural battle but probably because they were in the way. It wasn't a perfect pile but she can fix that.
"I hope this works," she said, dragging bodies until they lay together. After taking hold of one particular body she began to squirm her way into the body as well. She didn't want to see, hear or feel anything in these crucial moments but she had to. She saw how so many people gathered and faced against the beast. That will never be her. The best she can handle was catching a lizard for dinner. These people had magic weapons, while she only had her blade and skill. It wasn't like she was familiar of the makeup of a dragon. She knew where to slice a human, although it still perplexed her on where she had gained certain details. All she could do was watch on in horror and hoped that no one found them in the end before they could escape.
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Post by Valcrist on Jan 23, 2013 23:08:57 GMT -6
Everything began to make sense as it all slowed down. Time seemed to have stopped in that moment, when the gigantic beast let out a roar that shook the very world itself. A swan song filled the air, a final breath, a final act that was almost beautiful in it's tragedy. It wasn't like any of the other times he struck, out of self preservation or anger, but it felt different. Like the monster knew it was going to die, like this would be it's final mark on the world. It could do nothing but gather what little flame of life that still flickered in the beating cage of his heart, and unleash it one final time. It wasn't at the soldiers aiming to steal his life, it wasn't at the archers poised to take his breath, or even the swordsman with sword in hand who wanted nothing more then the slay the beast. It was unrelated to any of them, it was at the wyverns. The flying beasts that didn't even attempt to slay him. It was so... strange. To unleash this magnum opus upon such a person, but as the beast took it's final breaths and his entire form shifted, it began to make sense.
His entire life he had heard stories of dragons. It was only natural, living in the desert. That there was supposedly a sanctuary for them, in midst of all the death and sand. That they were beasts without peer, and they had almost killed the entire human race. That it took every single ounce of strength they had to push them away, to another world, another land. After fighting this beast, he knew that to be true, but he learned something else. Something that he had missed, despite countless years living in the desert of death. How... remarkably human they were.
It was then that Valcrist realized just what had happened. Just what he had done. He remained hard, his heart steel tempered by the decisions he had made, but he couldn't help but dwell on it. Just for a moment. Just for the most fleeting of moments. Did this dragon really do anything? Why had Valcrist attacked it? He wanted to believe it was to save people, but, now that he thought of it the dragon hadn't started to attack until it was attacked first. Maybe it was a mistake, but he wouldn't allow that to tear down his steely resolve. This is what he had chosen, and to doubt that is to doubt himself. He was through doubting his self.
"Kenshin." He turned to the swordsman who had shown up to witness the final moments of the dragon's fleeting life. "Mana, we need to get Wyatt out of here and to a healer. Quick." The truth was he was by no means fine his self, his face bloody and his mask sticking to it in a sickly manner as it stained a dark earthly brown. His right arm looking as though it had been lacerated from the countless small cuts upon it, and his breath heavy with the fatigue that rushed into him like a dam erupting after a torrential rainstorm.
His head darted about, looking at the arena. "Kenshin and Mana, take one his arms each." He said through his heavy breathing. "I still have someone I need to find." Even after everything that happened, he was still thinking about Jya. Why she had done this. Where she had gone. "Please help him." He said with a smile, then looked at Wyatt. "I'll be out of here as fast as I can, so don't worry about me."
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Jan 24, 2013 0:17:47 GMT -6
In his gut he was half expecting it to be over soon. The cataclysmic event of either total annihilation of everyone in the arena - even the city, or the dragon. However, the last light that shone was unexpected. This creature was not of malice or malevolence. It was one of... grace? The mystery of the dragon in the arena would possibly go on for quite some time and Synkkis wanted to know the truth.
The dragon had a brilliant and aggressive display of power as it died, a lightning storm materializing so quickly from the heavens and even striking dead wyvern riders above. The shock of the initial blast of magicka was almost too much for him to handle. His hand burnt as the symbol shined brightly. It seemed to be on a feeding frenzy of all of the spirit energy of the dead around him. Then, when the dragon fell to the ground the searing fire he could feel in his skin surged up his arm and paralyzed his right side. Kyyneltya stumbled, losing the feeling and inertia of his balance. Looking down to his hand, he saw the markings had grown halfway up his forearm. "W-Was ist das?" he almost cried, the pain now sharply piercing into his arm. "I... I don't-" He groaned, puzzled about what was going on.
Looking over to Edrick, he was already venturing down towards the corpse. He stumbled once again, bumping into Perrin, one of the fighters from before. The one he was shouting at in the earlier matches. The "altar boy". Realizing who it was, he broke and ran in the opposite direction, back down the rubble and inside of the arena. 'He didn't see. He didn't see. By Barigan, I will have to disappear again.'
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Post by Mana on Jan 25, 2013 5:24:14 GMT -6
The battle was approaching its end, the dragon had seemed to be weakened by numerous assaults which his opponents had done to him. His scales were painted by blood and some seemed to get cracks. Mana looked at him from where she stood, seeming to unsure what she had to do next. Wyatt needed her aid, he was severely weakened, but then she couldn't just simply turn her back against the dragon. After some seconds of considering, the girl sheathed her sword quickly and then ran toward her red-haired friend. There was no doubt, her priority was clear. Maybe Kenshin appearance had helped her to decide, he would handle the dragon and end this battle, she believed. "The hell with master thing!!! I can't just fighting that monster when you are dying! I can't let someone important to me die here. Not again!" she yelled Wyatt as she approached him. The girl had painful memories of losing people she loved so she was kind of afraid to lose another person who had become important for her. When she finally arrived in his side, the girl quickly examined his body which was burned badly. How could this happen? "Tsk, it's worse than I thought," she said. But before she could say anything to him, a roar engulfed the arena once more. Yes, the last roar of the dragon as he unleashed another storm toward a wyvern. His next target was up there, the other wyvern riders who filled the sky. Mana watched with her own eyes how the dragon used his last strength before his injuries forced him to submit. He wasn't a big mighty dragon anymore, he transformed into the form of man, looking tired but content. What was the meaning behind his look? Mana couldn't help but notice his strange expression. "Mana, we need to get Wyatt out of here and to a healer. Quick." Valcrist's voice snapped her back to reality. This wasn't a good time to watching a dying dragon. Whatever happened next, she wouldn't care. The army would certainly take care of it. "You are going? Alright...leave Wyatt to me," she said to the Nabatan. "Thanks, anyway." Mana slipped herself under his arm and put her hand on his back. Wyatt was obviously heavy with his bigger physique and his armor so it wasn't easy for the Sacaen girl to support him. Yet, she insisted to help. "Lets go to infirmary. There must be someone who can help you in there and maybe we will find some vulnerary too."
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Post by Kenshin on Jan 25, 2013 15:55:36 GMT -6
Swinging his sword upwards he cut into the beast's scales, Kenshin shifted his blade pointing towards it's leg after cutting it and thrust-ed it into it's leg. By time he pulled his blade back out the dragon had began to move, Kenshin wasn't sure if it was to counter attack everybody in melee range or not so he took a few short leaps backwards. The dragon had blasted lighting towards a white wyvern before falling towards the ground. Kenshin dove on the ground barely avoiding being crushed by the fallen dragon, raising to his feet he sheathed his blade as he looked around making sure Mana, Wyatt, and the one fighting the dragon that he met earlier was okay. It seemed Valcrist had made his way towards Wyatt and Mana so Kenshin joined the trio as well. "It's nice to see everybody safe. Kenshin nodded as Valcrist suggested he help Wyatt to a healer as he took Wyatt's right arm and wrapped it around his neck. "Don't do anything to get yourself killed."
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Perrin
Monk
Err...I can't remember anything! *has a revelation* Oh, that's who I am..
Posts: 21
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Post by Perrin on Jan 25, 2013 16:12:07 GMT -6
“You fought in the tournament right? Perrin was it? Ah, sorry I don't have time to talk I need to study that dragon!" The dark robed man said. Perrin had no time to confirm that his name was indeed Perrin before he shot off in the direction of the dragon. A dark spot caught at the corner of his eye as Edrick ran off; when he turned to see what it was it had already disappeared. Strange… Perrin thought absently to himself as he walked down onto the fighting area of the arena. With the short accidental meeting over, the violence and atrocities of the arena were hurled back into consciousness. Discarded weapons lay everywhere, plumes of fire still sprouted around the arena, wyvern riders still pelted the dragon with strong thrusts from lances, archers launched their feeble arrows into the dragon. Perrin did not have to look; he knew that they all continued to fight the dragon. Not wanting to remain, for the waves of sadness were already coming back, he walked closer to the infirmary. Before he walked even five paces, however, he found an unconscious person, and seeing no blood around him Perrin guessed he was alive. Stuffing his tome in the pit of his arm, he half-dragged the poor man to the infirmary, for Perrin could already see healers picking through the mass of injured and dead, and Perrin wanted to help. Time to do some good, and not get caught in more legends… Perrin thought with some aim at humor, and at the same time the dragon gave its final roar.
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Wyatt
Hero
The Volcano
How can someone win if winning means that someone loses?
Posts: 463
Etruria Fame: 2
Sacae Fame: -1
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Post by Wyatt on Jan 25, 2013 16:19:29 GMT -6
Wyatt stood with Mana there, watching the dragon's final defiant strike. Was it aiming at Richter? No...Richter's opponents...and the Wyverns? Why? It didn't make any sense, wouldn't it want to injure those attacking it? To try and escape? And then, after the symphony of it's final scream had faded away, it fell. As it did, it took a form far less monstrous, and far more terrifying. Human...it's human form.
Wyatt had seen this before with Saffra, and that other dragon that had met her once, but it didn't make it any less of a sobering experience. He became, as the noise of the arena resumed around them, aware of Mana being next to him. She'd forgone a fight, a true chance to test her skill, to make sure he was all right. Something about that, really meant a lot to the half-dead smith.
He felt her arms try to support his body, which he knew would not go well. But then it was joined by another. He turned his head, to see a long mane of red hair and a living legend standing there. Kenshin, again. Just whose side was he on? He liked Mana, but he was fighting Richter, and then he turned to fight the dragon, and now he was helping him. The man was a mystery to him, but Wyatt would not refuse the help.
At Mana's suggestion, he released some combination of a cough and a chuckle. "S-Somehow...I doubt a Vulnerary will be fixing me..." He grinned through the pain, not willing to let her see the fact that he might yet be dying. He could barely move, and it felt more like they were dragging him then helping him.
"W-We can talk later...let's...let's find a safe place...the dragon isn't it...this fire won't...go out easy."
As injured and exhausted as he was, Wyatt knew that this was just the beginning. An assassination on Clair, he hoped she was ok, wasn't a solo thing. This had been meant to be the start of something bigger.
A revolution.
He didn't doubt that the city would be embroiled in fighting by sundown. Battle lines drawn, alliances chosen, and chaos reigning. And who benefits from such action?
Who indeed.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jan 25, 2013 21:26:47 GMT -6
The pink haired warrior pulled himself to his feet in defiance of the Etrurian spy, wiping a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth as he did. Alranus's magic did sting, yes, but what stung more was how easily the arrogant bastard was getting under Richter’s skin. It wasn't that the Ilian couldn't deal with haughty, disdainful Etrurians. No, that was simple. It was the fact that, on some level, Alranus's taunting and badgering was all legitimized by the fact that Richter had yet to lay a single finger on the man, while Alranus in turn had found plenty of ways to humiliate and denigrate the Ilian warrior.
“Good, stand,” continued Alranus, a devilish smile on his face. “That way I can watch you fall again!” The Etrurian pulled back on the reigns of his pale winged mount, the flying lizard opening its mouth wide with a roar, but before it could lunge at its target, a bolt of lightning tore through the air. With a crack, the electricity struck Alranus, causing his body to shudder violently. His failing arm yanked wildly on the bit of his mount, pulling the wyvern’s head away from Richter before the Etrurian slumped forward in his saddle. Both Richter and the white wyvern swiveled their heads in the direction of the unseen attacker, and they were greeted by the sight of Captain Saint arriving with a contingent of soldiers. Immediately behind the captain stood a mage, his hand still crackling with the residue of anima magic.
"Stand down Lieutenant! Return to leading your men against the dragon!"
Quickly returning to his senses, Alranus sat up in his saddle, directing his attention now towards the arriving Bernese soldiers. His face was awash with fury and frustration. The captain had arrived sooner than expected. Things would have to be improvised.
“Men!” he yelled, lifting an arm in the air and catching the attention of a few nearby wyvern riders. “Leave the dragon to its fate! Servants of the Ilian oppressors have appeared! The captain is in league with the Winter Lion!”
At this cry, the attention of the black, winged sky turned upon the newly appeared soldiers in flurry of shrieks and roars, taking the attention off of Alranus. Richter could only scowl in impotent frustration. He could make a move against the Etrurian, but what good would it do? The man had already sewn enough chaos. He needed to get to Marcus.
But as Richter looked towards Marcus, his heart fell. The dragon, once proud and mighty, had been brought low. Blood dripped from his wounded belly, and instead of roaring, he could only groan and howl in pain. He was...dying. Kenshin had even joined in to ensure that his death came to pass. There was nothing Richter could do.
“You and hopelessness are old friends, are you not?” came Alranus’s smooth, taunting voice. “You, your friends, and your men will all die here, and along with you will go your pathetic idea of resistance. The Prophet can not be resisted, and Etruria will not fall, especially not to you.” The Etrurian officer drew his lance from its holster on his saddle, and bringing it to his side tugged upwards on the reins of his wyvern. “I’ll leave you to watch.”
But in almost divine irony, as Alranus made to fly, there was a loud, almost supernatural, roar. It was so powerful, it shuddered the very earth around them, and it invoked a great power. It was a dragon’s roar, and it was the harbinger of a great wave of thunder and lighting, one that was aimed straight at Alranus and his wyvern. Richter had but a moment to process what was happening before his sight was engulfed by whiteness. He could feel himself lifted off of the ground, but his senses were so overloaded with light, and sound, and heat that it was impossible to determine much else. For a time, Richter felt weightless, his senses numbed to anything outside himself, as if he was flying.
Then, suddenly, it stopped, and Richter could once again feel the ground under his feet. His skin burned. His eyes whined in pain. His first breath sent him into a coughing fit. Despite this, though, he forced himself to look at Alranus, and instead what he saw was the charred, blackened husk of what was once a large white wyvern lying before him. Dead. The Etrurian he could not see.
And in a worried fit, Richter forced his head towards Marcus. His vision was blurred, but the form of the young blonde haired man that lay there, his now human form, was unmistakable. Those idiots. They...they killed him.
“Marcus...”
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