Through the Snowy Roads (Open)
Sept 23, 2014 16:29:33 GMT -6
Post by Shard on Sept 23, 2014 16:29:33 GMT -6
Having just barely dodged the gust of flame that the enemy leader had sent his way, Shard was breathing hard, gritting his teeth as his horse careened past a brigand, who swung at the rider in vain as he passed. The time to turn the tide of battle was now, but... Shard shook his head to clear it, trying to rid himself of the paralyzing fear that threatened to overtake his spirit. Magic and Shard were not the closest of friends, flame magic in particular. Old phobias die hard, and the Cavalier knew he was at the tipping point between panic and control as he swung around to aim at the enemy Mage once more.
What he saw tipped the balance back in favor of control; the odd-looking villager that he'd covered earlier was, surprisingly, out in the battle again, a spell tome in hand. Shard had never witnessed elder magicks before, but he'd heard the stories and knew enough to understand what he was seeing. The Shaman, for that was what Shard now knew the man was, drew a ball of void space into existence in front of him, and sent the smoldering shadow into the ground as he maintained his concentration. Wisps of eldritch shadow erupted around the enemy leader, who was able to avoid the inky black Flux attack as it erupted from the earth, though at the cost of his attention on Shard. A sudden flurry of arrows from another combatant made the Mage turn once again, trying to stay out of range as a different target made itself known. It was the young bowman from before, shooting and moving in a pattern that seemed to hold the Mage's attention. Shard had a chill of inspiration go up his spine as he suddenly caught on to what they were doing: They're distracting him.
<OOC: For maximum effect, play this in the background: www.youtube.com/watch?v=qP2A9qcvw5k >
Time seemed to stand still as he took a breath, lifting his lance the way he'd done a hundred times before. Sensing the powerful war horse beneath him, hearing the sounds of battle around him, and feeling the chill of the Ilian air taking away the sting of the burn on his flank, Shard grasped his lance and had a brief moment where everything felt... right. "Don't think, feel. Don't act, react." He whispered, then whirling his lance around his head, charged the bandit leader.
The thunder of Jasper's hooves was drowned out by the yells of battle, and the enemy caster was besieged on two different fronts... too distracted to sense the mounted knight hurtling towards him. Ducking a particularly ambitious arrow, he began muttering an incantation as the runes on his tome's page began to glow, but it was never meant to be. At the very last second, he perceived that something was wrong, and half turned to look behind him, right as Shard's lance crashed into his chest with a solid -SHHRACK!- The weapon was ripped from Shard's hand as the momentum of his charge took him past the now-impaled Mage, who looked down in agony as he breathed his last. Seeing how he was now near the position where'd he'd dropped his sword into the snow previously, Shard bent over and awkwardly snatched his blade's handle into his hand as he passed. Now hefting his sword again, Shard turned to survey the scene before him.
A cry of exaltation arose from the villagers, and they rushed forward en masse, regardless of their own safety now. The bandits saw their leader deceased in the snow, and an audible groan of despair could be heard throughout the enemy ranks. As the villagers charged, there was no unified effort to meet it; the brigands began to turn and take off back into the winter wilderness, giving little to no resistance. It was now a rout, the day belonged to the villagers! Shard whipped his sword around in a salute to the two who had helped him the most, the dark caster and the bowman. He knew that if it hadn't been for them, victory would have been far less likely. He made a mental note to speak to them once the aftermath was over, and order returned.
What he saw tipped the balance back in favor of control; the odd-looking villager that he'd covered earlier was, surprisingly, out in the battle again, a spell tome in hand. Shard had never witnessed elder magicks before, but he'd heard the stories and knew enough to understand what he was seeing. The Shaman, for that was what Shard now knew the man was, drew a ball of void space into existence in front of him, and sent the smoldering shadow into the ground as he maintained his concentration. Wisps of eldritch shadow erupted around the enemy leader, who was able to avoid the inky black Flux attack as it erupted from the earth, though at the cost of his attention on Shard. A sudden flurry of arrows from another combatant made the Mage turn once again, trying to stay out of range as a different target made itself known. It was the young bowman from before, shooting and moving in a pattern that seemed to hold the Mage's attention. Shard had a chill of inspiration go up his spine as he suddenly caught on to what they were doing: They're distracting him.
<OOC: For maximum effect, play this in the background: www.youtube.com/watch?v=qP2A9qcvw5k >
Time seemed to stand still as he took a breath, lifting his lance the way he'd done a hundred times before. Sensing the powerful war horse beneath him, hearing the sounds of battle around him, and feeling the chill of the Ilian air taking away the sting of the burn on his flank, Shard grasped his lance and had a brief moment where everything felt... right. "Don't think, feel. Don't act, react." He whispered, then whirling his lance around his head, charged the bandit leader.
The thunder of Jasper's hooves was drowned out by the yells of battle, and the enemy caster was besieged on two different fronts... too distracted to sense the mounted knight hurtling towards him. Ducking a particularly ambitious arrow, he began muttering an incantation as the runes on his tome's page began to glow, but it was never meant to be. At the very last second, he perceived that something was wrong, and half turned to look behind him, right as Shard's lance crashed into his chest with a solid -SHHRACK!- The weapon was ripped from Shard's hand as the momentum of his charge took him past the now-impaled Mage, who looked down in agony as he breathed his last. Seeing how he was now near the position where'd he'd dropped his sword into the snow previously, Shard bent over and awkwardly snatched his blade's handle into his hand as he passed. Now hefting his sword again, Shard turned to survey the scene before him.
A cry of exaltation arose from the villagers, and they rushed forward en masse, regardless of their own safety now. The bandits saw their leader deceased in the snow, and an audible groan of despair could be heard throughout the enemy ranks. As the villagers charged, there was no unified effort to meet it; the brigands began to turn and take off back into the winter wilderness, giving little to no resistance. It was now a rout, the day belonged to the villagers! Shard whipped his sword around in a salute to the two who had helped him the most, the dark caster and the bowman. He knew that if it hadn't been for them, victory would have been far less likely. He made a mental note to speak to them once the aftermath was over, and order returned.