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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jan 25, 2013 21:48:17 GMT -6
Captain Saint awaited the Lieutenant's response, sword and shield readied with a steely eyed glare. Across the way, soldiers and other champions continued to unleash their assault on the dragon, but the armred captain's didn't waver from his attention on the Mercenary Commander and the Errant wyvern rider as he continued a slow and steady approach.... He really didn't like this one. He'd have to have a word with some of the brass later about how he was put on this assignment.
William bared his teeth in a furious snarl as the wyvern rider showed his true colors and brought up the heavy bladed short sword he was carrying. He was about to shout out a command to his own forces, but was interupted as th world suddenly blew apart.
There was a sudden slam of force. A shockwave coming off of a thunderclap of enormous proportions. It was strong enough to cause him to stumble, missing a step before catching himself and looking around wildly for the source. His head rang and his vision was a bit fuzzy as he looked up and saw the form of the dragon shrinking down to something man sized accompanied by the sight of wyvern's falling from the sky. He lifted his shield anyway, using it to counter balance the lingering effects of the thunderous slam he'd taken for standing a bit too close to its intended target.
The teal haired man's eyes suddenly whipped back towards the two he'd been watching to see that Richter hadn't been hit by the attack either. Not directly, at least. Merely the fringe of the shock.
- - - - -
"Clair?! Are you still with me?! Clair?!" Delia cursed under her breath as she urged her pegasus onward. It hadn't been long, but slick red already stained the the knight's arms, legs, armor, and steed. Feldsky's injury was deep. Hopefully, not fatal though. The healers had had plenty of chances to practice their craft oer the last few years, after all. She shifted forward in her seat, and Sarna angled downwards, carrying them in towards the tents of the healers in the army. At this point, her hurry was great enough that she was about ready to land right on one, but that would only get in the way. And the Commander would disapprove.
Just as long as you survive to disapprove....
They touched down lightly, Sarna prancing a bit in agitation as Delia forced the winged horse to settle. "Hey! HEYYYY! Get your skinny magic bums out here! Feldsky's about to die!" The sudden shout of the rowdy pegasus knight's voice in the vicinity of the quiet, nearly empty medic tents was enough to spur some activity into the area. First a hastily drawn back curtain with a head popping out, then a body following, scrambling over with some kind of staff. Del hoped it was a powerful one, for her Commander's sake. A few other bodies made it up and out of their tents. A bit groggy at first, but they quickly snapped back into the precision machine that the war had made them into.
"What happened." The voice was confidant, and stable, coming from an older man with short, dusky brown hair greying at the wings. [color=beige "Details, Woman. Whatever you can give me. Yvette, go make room on the table in my tent.'[/beige]
Delia stammered a moment as she collected whatever she could think of that was relevant. "Aaa-Assassin's blade. She was stabbed in the back at tthe arena."
The healer barely blinked as he took the unconscious falcoknight from Delia, moving her towards the tent. All Delia could pay attention to was how Clair's skin had turned from the creamy pale of an Ilian to something deathly white.
"Good job getting her here. Now leave her to me, and return to your duties. This is going to take some intensive work if she is going to live."
And with that, the healer was gone, leaving a worried, agitated, and annoyed pegasus knight outside, debating what the best course of action would be.
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Post by Valcrist on Jan 25, 2013 23:40:52 GMT -6
"You either, it would be pointless to die now of all times." He spoke to Kenshin with a sort of confidence only awarded by the chaos of battle, a chaos that befuddled his mind and shoved the awkward timid side of him hard into the corner. Speaking like Kenshin was simply an equal, no more no less. He nodded his head to Mana and then to Wyatt before setting off. Not running but moving swiftly and hurried, his body was tired to a level he had never felt before. It was almost pure adrenaline that kept him moving, and sheer force of will. His legs only moved because they were commanded to, feeling more like bags of flesh then his own body. He wouldn't give up though, Valcrist gave up on many thing. Many people. Despite his darkest moments, his most depressed of beings, even with as harsh as he's always been, he had never given up on his self. Perhaps it was that quiet, underlying optimism that caused him to be pulled to these situations.
What he was doing was, for lack of a better word, one of the dumbest things he had ever done. Any sane man would of ran out of that place, but any sane man would of never stood against a beast like that. She was an assassin, she meant to kill Clair. He could see that, anyone could see that. Still it just didn't feel right, he barely knew the girl. He barely knew Clair as well, and Wyatt, and Richter. Still something told him to do this, instincts perhaps. His gut, or maybe even his heart. That's all he really had at the moment. That's all he ever had.
She never even needed his help to begin with, she was faster then he could hope to be, her skill with the blade so precise that she could sever the wings off a fly. She could handle herself, and then some but- But he had to know. He had to help, even if he was no help at all. He wanted to know if she had escaped, he wanted to know what would possess a person to do this. Any person, let alone her.
With a small hop, he made his way back into the arena. Into the fray, with people still in the mood to do nothing but kill and maim. His eyes darted around wildly, looking for anything. Any clue, the smallest thing out of place. He was lucky, for whatever reason people avoided him. In fact, he saw a few faces that almost appeared... terrified? Why on earth would they be scared of him, of all people? The blood that dripped from his blade should of been the obvious answer, but his mind almost seemed to forgotten the action he had just done. The beast that did lay dead, and his hand in the deed. No one in their right mind would challenge a man who had slain a dragon. Even if he himself did not fell the beast, from the curious onlooker the only thing they heard was the dragon's death rattle and the man with the bloody blade leaving the scene.
Where could she had gone? The hole in the wall?
His mind raced. Was it too late already? If she had gone through, there was no way for Valcrist to find her. There was no way for him to know, he was far too preoccupied before and would have missed any commotion short of a second dragon. What could he possibly do? Where could she possibly be? He darted around the empty arena, surrounded by blood and the smell of death, stepping around and over fallen corpses.
There was... something. Something eating at the edge of his vision. Barely noticeable, actually it wasn't noticeable at all. He only noticed it by chance. That pile, that pile of bodies was different from all the others. The others looked more natural, like the dead just lay where they fell. This was an actual to goodness pile, and unless they went out of their way to specifically fight atop of corpses, it meant someone moved them. The blood smears of the ground from bodies moved helped prove this. Who would do such a thing? This was no time to care where the dead lay, even if they were tripping over the corpses. It seemed to... move slightly. Ever so slightly, like it was breathing.
He moved without hesitation, pulling the bodies away. Someone could still be alive under there!
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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 26, 2013 4:35:43 GMT -6
His heart... beating... It was strained and deliberate, pounding in his ears with a blood haze over his vision. He felt sick and light headed. There was the smell of death in the air and it was stronger than he'd ever experienced. More than at the farm. More than at the bandit hideout. It assaulted his senses and he couldn't escape. Rather than the typical signs of battle with the corpses, there were men lain in horrifying gore. The images pierced his mind.
Again, it felt like his hand was on fire as he crawled on the ground this haze becoming more intoxicating. In a fury to get away, he was able to stand for a little bit, hunched over and quickly fell back against the arena wall. The struggle seeming fruitless he sat there, looking at the carnage before him and the people moving about the arena, more fighting still commensing.
The sounds, smells, and feeling of pain numbed and faded. Action without sound, he even felt lifted as if he were falling. Beside him laid a man, his stubble making him look like he was in his '40's or so. The top half of the dead man' face had been singed off and his skull was bare. The imagery was too strong for him to look away and he became fixated studying the minute features. He spoke to himself, although he didn't hear it himself. "Dead. At an arena. Is this where your journey ends? Your story - will others hear or remember?"
A reply came into hearing, whispers, normal voices and shouting bombarded him from all directions within quick succession. "doyoureallywanttoknow?Who are you?DOWN THERE WITH THEM ALL.QUICKLY!isthereanotherway?acornerislost...No mistakes today.Cheating are we?DON'T PURSUE LIKE THAT!" The voices became louder and louder, the area around him being covered in a heavy fog becoming thicker and thicker until it blotted out the sun completely. The illumination only granting him five meters of sight. He closed his eyes and coverd his ears, banging up against the arena wall to try to shut them out. The voices were only becoming more deafeningly loud when they stopped. He opened his eyes and looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.
The man next to him was gone, as was everyone else. The arena sand still beneath him, cold, charred, and cluttered with rubble. Synkkis looked forward into the mist, not understanding his situation.
A voice, no, a million voices called out at once, creating a cacophony of dialects but a harmonizing tone. "Wenn Du mit dem Feuer Spielen..." The Ilian felt the ground shake and shift from beneath him. Rubble fell from the walls and an assortment of bones were sifted from the sand. The man Kyyneltya was staring at earlier staggered towards him from the mist with a limp posture and glowing red eyes. Instinctively, Synkkis went for his tome, but his satchel wasn't there. He wasn't even wearing the same clothes. These were made of furs, leathers, and bones. He felt a full beard on his face and his skin was ruddy as well as wrinkled. When he looked up, the man still stood, but the scenery had changed. It was of the mountains of Ilia, snow covering the ground two feet deep. Pines surrounded the two and Synkkis could feel the cold seep into his bones.
Onwards, the man came, reaching out for him. He had no tome, no defense. He stepped backwards, but the monster was already on him. He fell over and into the snow, bursting through as if he'd fallen through a lake.
However, this wasn't the same. He wasn't cold anymore. It was heavenly. Above him, he could see the northern lights just like back at home. They graced the skies and danced back and forth, the ancestors holding their festivals as his father said. They blurred and faded, his vision closing while he could feel himself dipping into a cool water. Synkkis closed his eyes, satisfied.
--
Opening his eyes, lights danced once again. Yet it was of candle-flame. A dull pain rose again in his right hand and forearm, looking down he saw it was covered in wrappings. The wooden sidings and the way he was cradled made it very clear to him that he was on a cot. Looking around, nurses were scurrying about and others laid around him in rows and columns in the chamber. He brought himself up, noticing he was lacking his gear including his satchel. Looking down, they were laid underneath his cot and he was covered with his own cloak as a blanket.
A man beside him chimed in, making a dull query. "How'd you nap?"
Synkkis turned around towards him, he was in his late twenties or early thirties and was also laying down. He had medium green hair and looked to be in worse shape than Synkkis was, with a large gash on his thigh. "I..." Synkkis tried to find words for his 'nightmare' that felt so real.
"Nevermind it. There was a lot of things out there no man should ever have to see, better yet experience. Just be thankful to the Eight that you survived." He responded, with the faux cheery look on his face diminishing. Kyyneltya silently averted his eyes and sat up in his cot. He got dressed and kitted himself with his gear, taking care of his hand. He started walking away and stopped, thinking to turn around and say something... but he didn't... and walked out of the infirmirary into one of the halls.
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Post by Mana on Jan 26, 2013 13:03:44 GMT -6
Like the stands hadn't been crowded enough, another group of soldier led by a teal-haired man joined the fray. They probably wouldn't have any role left, though. The dragon had been defeated, probably. Whether the dragon had died or would die soon didn't concern the Sacaen girl, though. Well, at least the situation would be under control soon if those soldiers knew what they had to do. "Don't talk. You should save your stamina. Try to stay awake, by the way! And don't worry Wyatt. If one Vulnerary isn't enough, I am going to use 100 Vulneraries." Mana realized that his legs could barely move. And he was trying not to show how weak he was now to her. How nice! If only he was smaller, she could have brought him easier. She wondered why some men,like Wyatt, tended to grow too much. If Kenshin wasn't here to help, it would be imposible for her. "Oouch!" Mana yelped in pain when his weigh hurt her chest. There might be one or two broken ribs there to cause this much pain. "Tsk, it must be because that time, when I fell and crashed against the fence. That reminds me...What was that light? Could it be one of that dragon's ability?" Although it was difficult carrying Wyatt even with Kenshin help, the girl's unyielding spirit and the concern for her friend's life gave her the power she needed to drag the dying blacksmith all the way into the infirmary. And as expected, this place was full with injured people. People with staff was running around checking everyone's condition, looking busy and tired. "Hey! This man needs a healer! He got severe burns!
A cleric, who was in her middle thirty, and a boy then approached them. She took a quick look at Wyatt's skin before instructing the boy to go to find some salves. "Hang on, boy. You will be alright," she said, trying to give him hope. "You two, lay him on that mat and take off his armor, I am going to use healing spell to him," she said as she gestured toward a straw mat in their left Mana quickly followed her instruction, she nodded to Kenshin before she began to help Wyatt lie on the straw mat. "Don't worry...You won't die before we have our match settled..." she whispered.
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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 26, 2013 18:18:40 GMT -6
Wyatt tried to manage a grin for Mana as she spoke to him, but found his strength, and the light around them, rapidly fading. He wasn't even aware of where he was, or even that he was moving. He heard a yelp of pain from next to him, that seemed to rip through his consciousness, but he was helpless to act on it. There was so much going on around him...people speaking, lights flashing before his eyes as the sun bounced off of polished steel, things seemed to get darker as he heard a new voice...not shouting, but he couldn't understand what he was saying. He felt himself lighter...somehow aware that his armor had been removed, as he felt himself now laying down. How did he get here?
His body had been ravaged by the attack. The armor had hid much, but his clothing and flesh had been scorched and burned. Not charred, thankfully, but the damage was still extreme. The saving grace of it all was that his skin was too badly burned to feel pain currently, though that would not be the case for long.
Nobody present had the strength or desire to lift Wyatt's Magma Axe, so it was left at the side of the bed, while his other armaments were removed to another area, with his armor. The healer returned to him with a worn healing staff, looking over the boy. He grimaced at the sight of him, turning to Mana before he acted.
"I will do my best, but...he may be beyond our power to save." He spoke honestly. "And this will hurt, so I apologize." He said, as the staff began to glow softly. His skin began to shimmer, softly and silently...until the tent was silent no longer.
"AGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" The boy screamed in pain, his body recovering the ability to feel just how much damage had been done to it, practically convulsing on the straw mat he had been laid on. The healer kept the staff steady for a moment more, to spite the screams of pain. When the staff ceased it's work, the body fell limp onto the straw mat, the boy seemingly unconscious.
The healer looked distraught, and spoke to Mana next. His voice was heavy. "You got him here quickly...he has a chance but...those injuries were severe...the worst I have ever seen. It is very likely they may be fatal..."
He walked towards the beds with other patients, looking about with a sorrowfull gaze. Whatever happened now, it was out of his hands. There was only so much their magic could do.
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Post by Jya on Jan 26, 2013 18:44:42 GMT -6
Jya had stayed hidden beneath the piles of body looking for a perfect chance to escape. There was never going to be such a chance for the assassin however as she had Lyrt with her. Of course even though it seemed helpless she had her weapon drawn on the ready just in case she was discovered. If she was to fall, she won't do it without a fight. Years of surviving by herself had taught her that. At the very least she felt more at ease knowing she was not defenseless.
When the dragon finally fell, she couldn't help but feel an even heightened sense of fright. What if these dragon slayers came after her? This was not what she wanted when she took up the job. First it was the missed vital, then a dragon appears, people started to pour into the arena and now she was hiding under a pile of corpses with her friend. Any normal person would go crazy by such a thing happening around them. For Jya it was just a matter of complete and utter confusion. Whatever might happen later, she had to get out. She had to leave the city, no, she had to flee the country itself if she wanted to have some interval of time to think.
All these thoughts plus more rushed through her mind until she finally noticed a shuffling of the corpse. Was she discovered? Out of panic she was about to strike out at whoever was getting close to them but stopped moments before touching the heart. She recognized the man, not from the dragon slaying but in the past as well. It was Valcrist and if he wanted to kill her, he would have probably done it by now with how long she froze in the moment.
"I...have to go," she stated as though it was a simple everyday statement. She made it sound almost dull but honestly she was flailing about inside with panic. How was she going to escape the country when there might very well be people looking to hunt her down. Neigh there was definitely people out to hunt her now, especially with what she learned during her imprisonment.
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Post by Valcrist on Jan 26, 2013 19:34:14 GMT -6
He moved and pushed and drug and heaved and rolled the bodies about. Whittling down the pile quickly, the movements getting more noticeable the more corpses that were moved out of the way. Then, without warning, a blade lunged itself from deep inside like some sort of insidious trap. A small girl was at the other end, the weapon a mere few inches away from taking his life. He was so exhausted from his battle, it would of been impossible to even imagine dodging the strike, in all honesty he would of had difficulty even in top form.
Still the form was merciful, stopping before taking his life and turning him into yet another corpse for the pile. His eyes grew wide as he saw just who it was, but somewhere he knew it must have been her the moment the attempt on his life was made. They both stood there, frozen, staring at one another. Did she... recognize him? Fat lot of help his disguise was. Questions flood his mind, but now was simply not the time for them.
"Let me help." He replied simply, not asking a single question. Not with doubt, or with suspicion. An honest offer for help. Bending down he forcibly yanked a cloak off of one of the many corpses that littered the ground, it was torn and bloody but large. Next he took off the bandana atop his head, letting his sandy blond hair touch the air. It was... well it wasn't bloody at the least. A bit sweaty though, but she was hiding in a pile of corpses so this was an upgrade. "Put this on, if you want to get out you're going to need to hide your face." He gave her the cloak and bandana.
Then he knelt down, showing his back to her. "Then once you're done, get on my back and don't move. Pretend you're unconscious, or even dead." She was a small woman, her body barely larger then that of a child. It shouldn't be hard for him to carry her, even weekend as he was. "You." He looked at the archer who was with her. "Come with me as well. We're going to try and get out of here as soon as we can. The longer we stay, the longer they have to send in soldiers to look for Jya."
"We're going to pretend you're dead Jya. I couldn't just let such a dear friend's corpse lay out here where it could be mangled by these barbarians and dragons. If I left you here, we could never give you a proper burial. You, you're her sister. You begged me to go back and get the corpse. This work for everyone?" He looked at the woman with the sword on her back, as well as Jya. "If everything goes well, we can get out without a single question."
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Post by Kenshin on Jan 27, 2013 10:53:12 GMT -6
Kenshin had gave a quick nod to Valcrist before he ran off. He winced with a light grunt as he began to support Wyatt's armored body towards the healers. Once the healers began their job to heal Wyatt's wound Kenshin turned to Mana "You fought well out there, I hope the next time we see each other I will get to test myself against your blade. You'll find me at the Wind Tiger village, more commonly referred to as 'The Heroes City'. If you excuse me I'm going to tend to my wounds" Kenshin had left the girl to stay with her friend as he found a spot for him to tend to the gash on his arm, he knelt down removing the small bag hanging on his back pulling out a vulnerary and some bandages. Removing his shirt he began to rub the salve into the wound, it stung but it would help it heal faster, it did work wonders on physical wounds it couldn't do anything for the pain he felt when the black mass entered his body. Just thinking about it caused his whole body to feel the tingly sensation of numbness, he could feel some sort of pain but he couldn't pin point where it was coming from. Cleaning the remaining ointment from his hand he began to wrap his arm then feeling his stomach.
This was the first chance he had to truly examine his injuries, grunting as he applied pressure to the area he felt constant pain he could feel three of his ribs were broken. Kenshin shifted his body and sat down with his back against the wall. Was that assassin the same girl I met in Bulgar many years ago? I think I heard somebody shout her name, it kinda sounded like hers... I think... What was it... What if I was wrong? I would have protected a murder from justice, I need to find the man I was fighting. Even if he found the assassin the feeling of revenge will still be there..." Kenshin shut his eyes and sighed, he wasn't ready to jump back into the fray in search of somebody. He wasn't exactly sure of how Ardus would react seeing him once again.
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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 27, 2013 18:17:22 GMT -6
Synkkis came out of the hallway and back into the arena, curious as if the body that haunted him was still out here. It wasn't as if he was going to actually go out and search for it, though. He wondered if the altar boy (Perrin) and the noble boy (Edrick) were still out here playing about.
Perhaps now would be a good time to perhaps pilfer something and get out, the Ilian didn't want to get caught in a civil war or a general riot. The arena was starting to attract attention because of its' fantastic light show. Strolling at a comfortable pace, Synkkis had his left hand pulling pressure of his pack off of his right side, which was really sore and even still hurting.
He moved over where he sat before and all that was left was a puddle of blood of where the dead man was before. A pile of bodies wasn't too far, so he walked over there where a Nabatan was carrying a girl wearing green and had a brown cloak draped over her head. He spent a little bit kicking through the bodies, not really finding anything he liked. Kyyneltya heard him talking to himself and met eyes with him. He was reminded of someone he ran into in Sacae, but this guy was much older.
Synkkis brought himself to stand up straight and placed a hand on his hip. "Someone you know?" He asked, clearing the hair out of his face.
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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 27, 2013 19:30:00 GMT -6
Ignoring the fights that were stillgoing on around the arena Edrick had finally reached the corpse of the 'dragon'. He knelt down next to the corpse. "The similarities between it and normal humans is uncanny, it looks just like a regular human. If it could change then why did it transform in the middle of this city? I guess I'll never know." Then he stood up and began picking up random scales that he found around thecorpse finding a good couple handfuls and putting the scales in a pouchon his belt. Looking around he noticed that most of the fights were dying down, being quelled by the entering troops. Turning around Edrick saw that the people he ran into earlier were no longer there. "I hope nothing happened to them, surviving this long through the dragon only to die in the endgame. That would truly be the worst." He thought.
Doing a quick pat-down to make sure he had everything Edrick realized he didn't have his tome. "Shoot! My tome! Did I leave it in the infirmary? I should go check, Ugh I feel tired I need to sit down I think the adrenalin is wearing off...." Edrick then stumbled back to the infirmary, somehow managing not to trip over anything. Whilst inside Edrick spotted his tome next to the cot he was in earlier which was miraculously unoccupied. Walking over ignoring the many cries of pain and agony Edrick picked up his tome and laid down on the cot. Letting his eyelids drop for a quick nap.
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Post by Jya on Jan 27, 2013 20:58:45 GMT -6
OOC: Short post but it gets to the point.
Jya was stunned by Valcrist's offer to help her escape. She had only recently tried to kill him just so she could get at her target. Actually her very presence had in a way resulted in so much panic alongside of the dragon. Than how can this man justify her actions and just offer help like this. However she didn't have much left in her own plans and found that it would be more than foolish to decline. If he planned to have her captured he very well could have called out to the crowd.
Nodding he took him up on his offer and easily appeared utterly knocked out. Her green tinted clothing well hidden inside the overly large cloak. Honestly she was exhausted on her own part so it wasn't difficult to seem limp and almost dead like. Whatever happened to her was now in Valcrist's hand. She wasn't sure if she was reassured or not at this point.
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Post by Valcrist on Jan 27, 2013 21:56:45 GMT -6
She seemed tired, but she listened to what he said. Climbing atop his back, like he was giving her a piggy back ride. Unmoving, exhausted, and almost impossible to distinguish from just another corpse with her torn and bloody cloak. Valcrist stood with a small grunt of effort, she was almost as light as she looked. Nothing but skin and bones, it was easy to carry her even as weak as he felt. Her arms laying limply over his front, holding on to her legs and leaning forward to support her entire body's weight. The sword on his back sheathed and between the two like a barrier of metal, hopefully not proving to be too much of a discomfort for the assassin.
"We're going to get out of here as quickly as possible." He bit his lip, knowing that he probably wouldn't see Wyatt or Mana again. If he helped Jya, he'd have to leave Bern as soon as possible. It was cruel, but he couldn't just abandon her. So he silently wished for their well being as he began to move, not exactly a run but a quickened pace. Not used to moving with such a burden, being a man who never even wore armor, he moved slower then he was comfortable with. Thanking that he didn't have to fight in such a state, his speed was his greatest weapon. Breathing heavily, each step feeling like a stomp, he hurried through the graveyard the arena had become.
"Someone you know?"
A voice said to him, it belonging to a man who seemed to have had a bad fight with a barber. Still, in spite of that, he looked ever so slightly familiar. That wasn't saying much, naturally, he never forgot a face and he had met so many people in passing that it was almost literally impossible to remember them all. He stopped for a moment, just to look at him, but shook it off and turned back to run once more. It may be rude to simply ignore him and what he said, but really he couldn't take the time to say a thing. The amount of soldiers was steadily increasing, and it will be impossible to get out. He'd be locked away along with her, for assisting in the escape.
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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 28, 2013 1:26:11 GMT -6
The Nabatan didn't do so much as speak a word in his direction, which meant he was up to something or just generally busy... but why would he turn and run if all he was doing was moving a body? Was he a bodysnatcher, planning on disecting the unfortunate victim for science or use terrifying necromancy? No, he was wielding blades, some of the best he'd seen.
That's when he remembered, Valcrist in Sacae. He was young, nervous, and toted the finest blades he'd seen. Surprising how time changes people. Perhaps even himself...
Spying from the corner of his eye, a platoon of soldiers flooded through the upper gate into the arena. Martial law would certainly be put into effect immediately and he'd be found out. He cursed to himself as he dashed in the same direction as Valcrist, following him. He figured he'd know how to get out for one as well as his curiousity getting the better of him. Damn these happenings. He was so enjoying the common arena fighting even if there were bits quite dull. Not even a champion. To shame.
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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 28, 2013 18:59:50 GMT -6
Perrin hung his head in sadness as the dragon gave its final roar, but never flinched or missed a pace. As he made his final step into the main infirmary area, the dragon’s roars vibrated within him; a few tears fell. The power that was unleashed made the hair on his arms stand up. Perrin thought he could feel the power, but only slightly. In the next step sadness overwhelmed him, and he blinked.
He ducked behind another of the bushes that covered the side of the island. Already past the town square, there were only a few more moments till he was at the town docks. He dared a backward glance, and saw nothing; heard only faint rustles and yelling in the distance. As Perrin ran down side of the island, he noted the plumes of smoke rising all around town. Suddenly a pirate lunged out from behind one of the alleyways in between two houses. The axe in the man’s hands flashed out and Perrin thought he was as good as dead. He saw the docks ahead in the distance. I’m sorry father… Perrin thought as the axe cut into the side of his shoulder. Sound faded and his vision blurred as the pain overtook him. He had never dealt with pain like this; even with the trove books he had read, he had never experienced something such as this. But wait … where was the final blow? Perrin’s vision cleared and his hearing came back to find the pirate clutching his eyes in agony, and a man in sky blue robes, a staff crowned with a large milky opal stud in his left hand, and a glowing golden tome decorated with sparking stars in his right. He was a remarkable sight … he was his father!
Perrin opened his eyes. No one was looking at him like he was insane, so it must have lasted only the span of a blink. The sadness for the dragon was only renewed by the memory of his father saving him, for Perrin had never been able to recollect a full description of his father. He continued his sad trek through the infirmary, unconscious man in tow. A few moments later he found a cot with a chair near. He picked the man up, and was barely able to get him in the cot. He sat down with immense relief, and tested his arm. He had felt something strange when he had picked the man up … there it was. Perrin felt a twinge as he brought his arm over his head.
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Post by Valcrist on Jan 30, 2013 22:56:36 GMT -6
"Please, you have to let us through!" His legs pounding as they carried the burden of another person, finding his self face to face to a guard who blocked their route of escape. He knew this would happen, but it was harder to face it in person then in his mind. Valcrist wasn't as quick witted as he liked to be, he ran mostly on instinct when it came to situations like this. The man in front of him was a man without humor, serious of face and serious of tone, he would not easily let someone he considers a threat to get by. Whether or not he, and the motley crew he appeared to have assembled, was considered one was another thing to consider. He seemed to be sizing Valcrist up, looking him in the eyes, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. He was armored, with a spear in hand. Valcrist could probably take him, but not in his current condition, battle weary and carrying another person, as well and having to protect the weaker members of the coalition. If he did, he'd have to run and abandon them before more soldiers appeared, as Valcrist could not handle such a thing even in top condition. Convincing him was the best solution, and the only one they really had.
"You can't take any of the bodies with you, we're still accounting for the ones dead and hunting for the assassin who caused all of this." He said, stern in his standing. His eyes spoke for him, he wasn't going to budge on his position without good reason. "Leave the corpse, and you may leave. We can't allow you to take anyone with you."
"But sir! This, this is..." How he said the next few words would be everything, he needed to appeal to emotions, not logic. Valcrist bit his lip, unable to look the man in the eyes as he furrowed his brow, looking pained, sorrowful. It was a common expression for the blacksmith, so he knew exactly how to do it. His practice being miserable finally came in handy. "I can't. I can't leave her. She's..." It was too hard to say. "She's my dear friend. I can't leave her here to rot. I refuse to." He looked up and at him. "There's barbarians, thieves, and worse out there! That dragon could eat her whole, I can't let that happen. She... she deserves a proper burial."
The guard looked at him with hard eyes, but let out a small sigh. "Look I can't-" He began, but suddenly stop. Looking at Valcrist once more. "Wait... I... recognize you. The... Lost swordsman, right?" His eyes widened. "Wait, it was you who fought that dragon!"
"Y-yes." He replied, wary. This could be bad...
"Look... I'm not allowed to do this... But I can make an exception. For you only. You deserve it more then anyone, if that's your friend then who am I to keep you from taking her? I was too cowardly to even face that beast." He looked... remarkably kinder then he did a moment ago. Regretful, perhaps. At the time Valcrist thought nothing of what he did, but what was it that he had really done? He could hardly believe it himself, if it weren't for the pain in his body from the fight, he would never have believed he had done such a thing. "Go, quickly. Don't worry, no one will stop you. And... here. This is from us. It's not much, but it's the least we can do." The man handed him a small pouch of gold, it wasn't much but it warmed the smith's heart.
"Stars bless you sir." Valcrist nodded, looking back at the other two. Wait two? That guy from earlier had followed him? Now wasn't the time to fight about it, he'll just have to deal with it when they're in a better place. He nodded his head as he walked forward. He met no resistance the rest of the way as he worked his way out of the structure he had entered. Making a quick stop to pick some things up from his cart that had long since been abandoned, he hurried out of the arena and into the town. The soldiers frantically searching for a girl they would never find, for she rested upon his back.
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