Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 4, 2015 13:11:00 GMT -6
Donovan rejoined the caravan shortly after Ravvus. Everyone was accounted for. The traveling family was largely intact. The father seemed a little shaken and his child was still screaming his head off, but that was to be expected. Ravvus brought a free hand to his now pained ear. The little boy's screeching was like an intermittent volley of knives. He would screamed for a little bit, try to catch his breath in between sniffles, and then scream again. Each shout sounded more high pitched than the last. In the mage's pre-adolescent years the screaming of children had been very pleasurable to him, especially when he had been the one to cause it. Even in now, in his early twenties, the blond man enjoyed the occasional suffering of children. But what he was currently experiencing was an annoyance. More importantly, it was a liability. The little boy's screaming would attract more undead and, as eager as he was to keep fighting, Ravvus knew that the dead horrors could drown them in numbers.
Surprisingly, his... boss'? Ravvus supposed Gheb, Gril,Gav the fat man had technically hired him, albeit indirectly. Boss was an appropriate title. Surprisingly, his bosses' wife had remained the most focused. The blond man wasn't sure if that was good or not. Fear was an appropriate reaction to seeing the dead. But this woman didn't seemed to be phased by them. Perhaps the stress of the situation was messing with her sanity. She loaded a bolt into her crossbow with a pair of quivering hands. Ravvus eyed the woman's weapon with interest. If the undead attacked again, in earnest this time, the mage might be able to find a way to combine her weapon with his magic.
Ravvus found himself a little disappointed with the latest fight. The undead weren't as ferocious as he remembered. They weren't as challenging. The mage had escaped his encounter with them without injury. The undead were resilient, Ravvus was willing to give them that much. One of the painless beasts had continued to dog the man even after he'd set it ablaze. But the creatures were too slow. They offered him no challenge. Ravvus sighed in disappointment. One had to wonder what right Ravvus had to question the sanity of the large man's wife. Most people would be relieved after defeating the undead.
The mage was drawn to the cart. Donovan seemed a little shaken, but ok. He was having trouble grasping the fact that the undead had once been people. George, on the other hand, was probably doing the best out of the traveling caravan. He was calm and focused, but not focused in the same way as the wife. Her focus came off as eerie and uncomfortable, while George's was confident and compromising. Ravvus, himself, was feeling pretty decent. He was a little disappointed, but that was nothing to worry about. He didn't even feel the evil pressure he'd been under prior to the fight. It was strange. It was like whatever had been watching him had simply vanished. Where one might have anticipated this information to be calming, for Ravvus it was the opposite. Rather, the lack of pressure made the mage eager. If there was something out there more dangerous than the undead husks, he wanted to meet it. His right arm twitched again. Good. Good, that was still kicking.
Ravvus joined in the conversation between George and Donovan. ”Your friend is right you know. In battle you need a weapon you can rely on, not a keepsake.” On one level, the mage understood Donovan's sentimentality for his weapon. After all, Ravvus still held on to his sister's introductory anima manual. He didn't use it in battle of course, but the book did mean a great deal to him. He could appreciate Donovan's plight. But he also saw the faulty logic in it. ”You should save up. Buy something that cuts more cleanly. The thing you've got now will get you killed in battle.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 4, 2015 14:57:17 GMT -6
The group had been walking for over 2 hours now. They were getting closer and closer to the hub, but tensions were only growing. Donovan knew that there had been truth in his fellow combatant’s words. This sword was fine for taking on enemies one at a time, but it might be a large liability should they have to take on more than they’d already been fighting. He didn’t want the others to have to keep an eye on him to make sure his blade wasn’t lodged into some enemies head. Nor was he certain that they would. He had no deep connection to any of these people, even George, who he’d been traveling with for so long was little more than a stranger to him. The old fighter had never even shown any signs of concern or affection until he’d advised Donovan to leave that cursed town behind. Ravvus was as much of a stranger as anyone could be, though the fellow seemed a decent sort over all, he had no reason to put his life on the line to save Don’s neck should it come to that.
Regardless of all that, the green clad mercenary felt more confident in his skill now than he had ever felt before. He’d fought three revenants on his own, without even getting scratched. If he could keep his wits about him, he knew he’d have a chance.
“You’re more of a scrapper than most mages I’ve met. Pretty quick on your feet. Seems like you have a lot of experience with combat. Is that why you’re heading into Ilia? Do you want to join a mercenary group or something? See some action?” While Donovan was curious as to the mage’s past, he mostly wanted to keep up some conversation to ease some of the tension. If the mercenary spent too much time dwelling on their impending doom, he wouldn’t be able to keep his head as cool when it came.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 4, 2015 15:56:56 GMT -6
A hush settled across the caravan as the group continued their travels. They traded a few words, but no major conversation had gone among the travelers. It became quiet. Even the little boy had stopped crying. It wasn't a comforting silence. It was an eerie silence. The kind which was cast right before a street brawl broke out. The kind of soundless anticipation which occurred right before something bad happened. Something everybody knew was going to happen. Something unavoidable. In spite of the silence, the danger never came. The group just traveled through the snow, quiet and afraid. There was even a point when the quiet had gotten to Ravvus. He was antsy, wondering where that evil pressure had gone, waiting for the next legion of undead. The mage's breathing increased steadily, his heart-rate elevating in the dead, silent snowy mountains.
He was relieved when Donovan spoke again. Ravvus was beginning to come around to the man. The green mercenary still had a lot to learn about fighting, but so did Ravvus. In a way, Ravvus was happy that he was allowed to see the birth of this young man's career. It was an uncanny enough thing that the two strangers had, not only, been in the same village at the same time, but left the village at the same time. It was like a greater power had brought the two together. Fate. Fate could be such a curious thing. For whatever reason, it desired for Ravvus to accompany Donovan on this dangerous exodus. Ravvus wondered why it so desperately wanted the mage to serve as witness to the mercenary's humble beginnings.
”Heh.” Ravvus chuckled. ”Yeah, I got into a lot of fist fights when I was a kid. Taking up the book was a huge surprise to everyone.” Ravvus lightly waved his tome.”Present company included.” Though he was warming up to the green mercenary, the mage allowed for a measure of aloofness to his speech. ”Well...” He began. He didn't really want to answer that question, but he didn't want to entirely ignore it either. ”Not exactly. I see plenty of action regularly, really. I actually came to Skaven as part of a detour. I was eager to fight the undead, you see.” He smiled at Donovan. The man most likely thought Ravvus mad. ”Well that, and I wanted to see if they'd really traveled north. As far as I knew they weren't supposed to leave Lycia.” The Ilian winds brushed past him. Ever since the start of the journey, they'd been slowly dying down. What had begun as cold, sharp air became a nice, cool breeze. ”As for my business in Ilia, I guess... The mage racked his mind for a half-true answer. ”I guess I'm traveling.” There it was. ”Traveling across Elibe, enjoying the sights and taking things I like.” The blond man's tone was almost genuine. He patted his travel satchel full of all of the knick knacks he'd found in his journeys. His latest trophy was of course the stone he'd found in the desert.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 4, 2015 20:53:50 GMT -6
The orange cloaked mage was growing on Donovan, he was a little rough around the edges, but that tended to make people just a bit more interesting. The mercenary wasn’t surprised that the mage liked to fight a lot growing up, that dodge he’d pulled off after getting surrounded by ghouls wasn’t exactly something you learned in a book. “I never really had penchant for brawling, as a kid. There was never any need to. I was raised in a small community, all of us very close. One big family, really. I had a couple of scraps, but nothing that was ever very serious until I was older.”
“You came all this way just to fight those things?” The mercenary shook his head, the thought of actively seeking out these creatures was insane. “You know, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d come in a group. Makes sense that enough people lose family to the undead, they’d band together to fight them. But to come alone. If nothing else, it seems like an unnecessary risk.” Donovan had forgotten how many of these things were ravaging Lycia. His mother was still in Pherae. He worried about her most day, but after getting into a fight with these things, he was more worried than ever.
The blonde mage’s tone was almost genuine, when he said that he was traveling. Donovan was sure that that was a part of his business, but he was certain that there was more to it than that. He didn’t care that Ravvus was lying. After all, most of the things Donovan told people were lies. Or vague half truths. If anything, the mercenary just admired how good the mage’s lie came across. Don would wager he had a little experience with deception. “I love traveling. That’s why I became a caravan guard. Well, that and I needed money. Nothing beats a long road and a warm breeze. If I’d known most of these trade routes were endless roads and blisteringly hot - or cold - gusts of dust and ice, I might have chosen a different path.” The mercenary smiled at the mage. Yeah, the mage was growing on him.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 5, 2015 12:41:27 GMT -6
”Hah. Need.” Ravvus chuckled dryly. ”I didn't get in fights because I needed to, I... that's a half lie. I initially started fighting because I needed to. But, once I found out I was good at it, I did it for fun. Such is life in the Isles. Prove your dominance or get dominated.” Ravvus was repeating long rehearsed, deeply held truths he'd learned growing up in the Isles.”How about you, where are you from? Lycia, Ilia, Bern? Ravvus had found that in calmer countries, like Etruria and Lycia, the youth tended to be docile. He remembered the first time he'd socked an Etrurian boy. The boy just sort of stood there, trying to realize what had happened. He didn't seem to know whether to cry, to be offended, to fight, or to just run away. In the end he ended up doing all of that, save fighting back. Which had, ironically, been the only thing Ravvus wanted in the first place..
”I think that's why I enjoy it, honestly.” He shrugged in response to Donovan's comments. ”Putting my life on the line, taking risk, getting stronger, smarter, better.” He folded his arms, smiling. ”Fighting brings out the man in you like nothing else. Makes you feel alive, makes you improve.” The mage was entirely ignoring the faulty logic in his philosophy. Fighting could strengthen a man sure, but it could also get him killed. And Ravvus' risks were, in fact, of the near-fatal variety.
Ravvus smiled as his companion talked about traveling. He patted Donovan's shoulder and pointed to a mountain in the east. ”You ever sit on top of one of those things as the sun rises? The roads can be pretty hard at times, I'll grant you that. But the sights you see in your travels make it all worth it.” It was funny how relaxed Ravvus was feeling. Here in the mountains, surrounded by death, he was shooting the breeze with a man he barely knew.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 5, 2015 13:38:21 GMT -6
The green clad mercenary chuckled. “Right where we are now. I’m from the road. born and raised. Though I suppose I’ve spent most of my time traveling in Lycia, so that’s the closest to a nationality I can claim.” He’d grown up traveling all of the countries in the mainland but Nabata. There were no towns large or prosperous enough to validate their entire theater troupe traveling into the desert.
“I had a knack for fighting. We were traveling through a small town that wasn’t particularly fond of outsiders. A few of the local boys decided that they wanted to prove themselves against me. It was my first real fight, but I got the better of them. Once that happened, it seemed I’d get attacked in more villages than not. Probably was just that I wasn’t that young anymore. Once you hit 12, people are more bold.”
The mercenary patted Donovan’s shoulder, Ravvus seemed to be getting much more comfortable. “My family never went so high into the mountains. It was never profitable enough to make it worth it. But perhaps when we make it to town, I’ll tell you about this one hidden cove I found when I was a boy. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Suddenly the young mercenary felt a strange sensation. They were being watched. He was sure of it. Up ahead, he could see a break in the treeline, they were close to the hub town. He heard a rustling in the trees behind them.
“Run.” He whispered to Ravvus. He drew his sword and started to sprint for the open field. “RUN!” As soon as he screamed for the rest of the caravan to get moving, they came. There were more than the last time. At least a dozen more. Maybe even two or three more so. Hordes and hordes of undead came, falling out from behind the trees trying to grab onto anyone or thing they could reach.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 6, 2015 9:47:32 GMT -6
A cove? Beautiful? Those two words worked together just the way Ravvus wanted. While a little surprised that the mercenary was willing to tell him about such a personal experience, the mage was interested. He'd be even more interested if Donovan could remember where he saw the cove. The blond man enjoyed seeing unique sights.
Then Donovan said something which confused Ravvus. ”Wait, but I thought you said you didn't get in fights as a-” The mercenary cut him off, having picked up on something Ravvus clearly had not. Run? From what? The mage turned around, spying for anything out of the ordinary. 'Run!' Donovan spoke again, this time screaming. Run from wha- That was when the undead descended upon the caravan. Like a hive of bees roused from their nest, they sped forth furiously. Some of the undead popped out from behind trees and bushes, others were sloppily tumbling down the nearby mountains, and some had even burst forth from the snow on the earth. Ravvus observed them all with excitement. Yes! Yes! That was it! This was what he needed! Overwhelming odds! Now it was a fight! A real, honest fight! These foul-beings, in their numbers great, were worth his attention. To top off his excitement, the mage suddenly felt the evil pressure fall upon him again. It was greater than ever this time. Ravvus felt like he had two twenty pound bricks weighing on each of his shoulders. At the head of the shambling horde, Ravvus spied the source of this intense, daunting dizziness. It was some sort of gigantic dead man. It stood out, larger than its undead peers. It's skin looked like gray stone and it had a pair of baleful, yellow eyes. It's claws were sharp and jagged, decorated by gore and dried blood. Ravvus had never seen anything like that before. ”Finally had the stones to show yourself?” A wicked grin broke across the mage's face. No way was he letting a fight like this get away from him. His tome split open.
Despite the dizzying aura the great entity was putting on Ravvus, the mage felt largely unaffected. He had so much adrenaline pumping through his body, he was so excited, that he almost ignored the feeling entirely. One had to wonder if the mage could feel pain in his frenzied state.
Ravvus roared a fire ball to life. It was a wild and untamed ball of heat. Tentacles, more than before, writhed wildly along the fire's surface. It had even lost it's spherical shape, becoming more like a tear-drop in appearance. With great force, the mage thrust his fireball at the gray creature. It sped towards the hateful, watchful creature, crashing into it's stone skin in a spectacular fiery explosion. Fire burst outwards from the explosion, burning through patches of snow and igniting isolated areas of decaying undead skin. A cloud of smoke stood where the dead man had been. Ravvus felt the dizzying pressure lift. Was that it? The blond man tried to peer through the black cloud, searching for the gray creature's silhouette, but saw nothing. ”Pathetic.” Ravvus snarled angrily. What a poor performance on the undead's part.
The mage began to back peddle. The horde had drawn closer to him. At the front of the horde was a pack of the undead, slightly faster than the rest of the horde. Their maggoty feat beat across the snowy landscape. The mage had thrown caution to the wind. His companions were a good distance from him now, whereas the undead were rapidly closing in on him. He was, quite literally, the only thing standing between the two groups. ”Come on, you dregs!” He jeered, as he sent a hurtling fireball towards the pack of dead.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 6, 2015 13:57:52 GMT -6
How many of these things are there? The green clad mercenary saw nothing but monsters in every direction. George was being smart and carving a path out the front for the whole caravan to move forward. The small group was only a few yards from the freedom of the tree line. Suddenly Donovan heard an explosion and turned to see the orange cloaked mage trapped between two groups of undead. Damn! Why didn’t he run? Donovan couldn’t go back and help clear a path for the mage at this point, there was too much distance between the pair, and far too many undead.
“Blow a hole through them and just keep moving!” He called out to his companion. “Don’t worry about the ones behind you, just keep moving forward!” The mercenary felt a hand grab his shoulder and spun around to chop it off. A large hand grabbed his sword arm before he could strike, and George’s eyes met his with a bewildered expression.
“Watch where you’re swinging that thing, son.” The fighter paused to chop through a Revenant that had gotten too close to the pair, before pulling the young mercenary to the treeline. “What made that bloody fool get stuck behind a wall of the undead? Now we’re going to have to save his bloody skin.” Donovan saw that the hub was at the bottom of the hill, a large and rather prosperous town. And they had a number of soldiers and mercenaries guarding it. They would be safe if they could get down there. But they couldn’t just leave the mage behind.
“We can’t leave him to die.”
“I know that, Donovan, Nor can we let these monsters through until Grev’s family is farther down that hill. We’re going to hold them here. If he catches up then fantastic. For now, all we can do is hold the line.” The pair worked in unison, protecting each other from the undead foes. Donovan felt like they were surely going to be overwhelmed soon, but the terrain was now in their favor and undead were falling somewhat easily. The mercenary played it safe, dodged one set of claws, removed them with a slash of his sword, and kicked the body, with all his strength into the corpses behind it, knocking a couple of them over in the process. They wouldn’t be able to hold out here long, but if Ravvus could reach them before they were forced to retreat, they’d all be able to get away.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 6, 2015 16:44:29 GMT -6
The fireball half struck one of the zombie's shoulders. The dead flesh blackened and burnt from the heat of the strike, but the creature itself kept moving. In his excitement, Ravvus was becoming sloppy. His shots were off. The mage wasn't sure how much he cared, however. He was having far too much fun.
Suddenly Ravvus was thrust to one knee. What had happened? Which of the undead had been bold enough to interrupt his amusement? Where was the dead beast which had forced him to the earth? He looked around. Though he realized that he was now surrounded, none of the undead were within range of touching him. He looked back to where the smoke cloud had been. Could it be? The dark soot had since cleared and the mage could clearly see the larger zombie again. The dead horror was on fire, though it was kneeling purposefully on the ground. The thing was running its burning skin through the cold, wet snow. This one was more intelligent than the rest of its' swarm. The dead man's gaze was narrowed. It peered at Ravvus with intensity. It was like another twenty pounds had been added to each shoulder. Even with all the adrenaline pumping through his body, Ravvus could not ignore the pressure.
The mage staggered to his feet. He looked at the horde, inching ever closer to him, and then to the caravan, which was a decent distance from him by now. This fight he was having. It was too good to pass up. He was severely inhibited and not just because he was outnumbered. He couldn't remember the last time he had such an enjoyable fight. If he could overcome these zombies in such conditions, then he could do anything. He could challenge Eagle. He could beat Duma. He could master fimbulvetr. His strength would be proven if he won this fight. The mage locked eyes with the towering zombie, the one who could cripple Ravvus just by looking at him. He tightened his grip on the book, but then released it. Ravvus, his eyes like fire, starred at the greater zombie. He knew he couldn't win this fight. Even with all of the adrenaline in his body, he felt like he was carrying eighty pounds worth of bricks. He couldn't fight like that. As much as he wanted to. As much as Ravvus wanted to defeat these creatures and prove his worth, he knew that staying there would be his death. And Ravvus did not want to die yet.
”Curse you!” He swore at the big, undead man. He felt so weak giving up like this. Ravvus wasn't supposed to be weak. He was a great fighter and a talented scholar. He was supposed to be able to take on odds like this. And yet he couldn't
Reluctantly, the mage turned around with leaden legs. The blond man broke out into a hunched and hindered sprint, a sad attempt at charging the undead between him and the caravan. As if on cue, the revenants surrounding him began to pick up the pace. They broke out into limping sprints, trying to close the distance. That was new. He didn't know they could move at a pace any faster than 'wounded limp'. The situation was reversed now. Ravvus was moving more slowly, while the undead were picking up speed. Even though the odds were tipping out of his favor, the mage swore he wouldn't die here. Not like this. The mage brought his book to eye level. It was difficult to focus under the intense pressure. Normally he wouldn't be able to cast under such circumstances. He was incapable of concentrating and conjuring magic. But what the mage lacked in focus, he made up for in anger. And that was something he had an abundance of. Ravvus finished muttering the last of his incantations. A shapeless fire formed between the two undead closest to both him and the caravan. ”FAAALL!!” He cried as the fire blasted a leg off of each. The two corpses fell to the ground, cut off mid-sprint. It hardly deterred them. Without missing a beat, they began crawling towards the mage with surprising haste. They would kick off the earth with the one leg, land and move forward in what increments their hands would allow, and then repeat the process. They were so tenacious, so worth fighting. It angered the mage knowing that he couldn't stop to destroy them.
He attempted to leap over the prone corpses, only to be caught by a cold, clammy hand. If only he hadn't had to deal with the pressure, he would have been too fast for the creatures to grab. The mage fell to the earth unceremoniously. Wrenching his, now snow covered, head around, Ravvus starred at the undead with pure ire. ”Take” He punctuated each word with a kick to the creature's arm. ”Your hands!” The zombie had a grip of iron. ”Off of me!” The mage felt his foot break something in the revenant's arm.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 6, 2015 20:41:49 GMT -6
Donovan crashed his shield into the head of a revenant, but more and more of them kept coming. He and George were holding back 10 between the two of them. Their location acting like a funnel, limiting the numbers that could attack the pair. The mercenary’s head had a dull ache, that he didn’t quite understand, but it was not enough to distract him from his job. George’s axe cleaved through the skull of the closest undead, and Donovan saw Ravvus struggling as the undead clawed at his arms and legs. He was firing off shot after shot, but the beasts just kept on coming, in fact, they seemed to be getting even faster. Thankfully, some of the mercenaries and knights that were protecting the hub were taking pity on the caravan’s guards and were storming up the hill to help.
“He’s not going to make it. Why is he suddenly so slow?” The green clad mercenary didn’t understand how someone who’d been so light on his feet a couple hours earlier could be moving so sluggishly now. Behind the mage, Donovan could see a huge, towering monster that was nearly 6’5”. What was strangest was that it let itself fall into a snow bank after being lit on fire. “Is that thing thinking?” He swung his sword, lobbing off the arm of one beast at the shoulder, but another managed to claw at his forearm and pulled off his right arm’s armor. George’s axe took care of that one shortly after. "We have to get out of here before big guy over there gets too close."
A javelin shot out from behind them and took one zombie in the gut, knocking it several feet backward onto the ground. The calvary had finally made it up the hill, and the line was now a group of 10, holding back their enemies.
Suddenly, Ravvus was on the ground a couple dozen feet from where the group was holding the line. A couple of the undead had pulled his feet out from under him and the mage was kicking at a creatures arm ferociously, trying to get it to loosen it’s grip. “Come on! We have to help him!” Donovan sprinted in, and used his tiny shield as a focal point as he charged at one of the undead. He dropped low just as he reached the monster, hit the creature in the abdomen and used all of the strength in his legs to rocket up. The revenant flew up and away from the pair of travelers. Kicking with as much strength as he could muster, he hit one of the crawlers holding Ravvus down in the temple. It’s head flew off surprisingly easily.
He grabbed the mage’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Get up, Ravvus! We can’t handle this!”
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 7, 2015 13:27:41 GMT -6
The mage had fractured the revenant's arm, but its' hand still held on strong. Ravvus realized that he would need to sever the hand entirely. The blond man had firmly placed his boot on the crawling revenant's face, preventing it from biting him. This block served a dual task, as it clouded the creature's vision, making it all the more difficult for it to find something to grab onto with its' free hand. Ravvus yanked back, trying to, literally, tear himself free from the horror's grasp. But, as he did this, the other crawling revenant leapt forward, throwing itself on top of his chest. The mage had little time to react, both due to the dizzying pressure and the suddenness of the attack. Its claws came first, seeking soft, piercable flesh. Ravvus intercepted both, dropping his tome and catching the creature by its' wrists. The undead lay atop him, snarling and drooling. It was a revolting sight. There was a deep, diagonal gash across its' face and its' right eye was white and foggy. Ravvus was resolved not to let this thing so much as touch him. He wouldn't die, he was no going to let the-
”AAAAARRGGHH!!”
Pain shot through Ravvus' body. One second the revenant had been snarling at Ravvus, the next it had lodged its maw into his left shoulder. Suddenly the bite was all he felt. The pressure was gone, as was the encompassing glee he felt during battle. All Ravvus could feel was the seething pain from his wound. His leather armor had done enough to prevent the jagged teeth from digging too deep and nicking an artery, but that had only mitigated so much of the attack. Ravvus wriggled around in a pained frenzy, his fury now doubled. All of the pain he felt soon turned into anger. The only thing he could see was red. The mage finally felt his right leg break free. He pulled the limb back, preparing to launch the revenant from his body, or at least try.
But before he could do so, the revenant atop him had its' head kicked off. It struggled for a moment, then stopped. Ravvus pushed the creature off of his body. The other crawling undead was still groping for his limbs, but, inspired by Donovan's attack, Ravvus pulled his left leg back, thrust it forward, and caved the creature's head in. This one was less agreeable than its undead companion, as it continued to flail about after losing its' head. The mage grabbed his fire tome as Donovan pulled him to his feet As Ravvus came to a standing position, he felt the dizziness lift. The mage turned his head, seeing that the large zombie had extinguished all of his flames. It was still looking at him, giving him the same baleful stare, but in spite of this Ravvus didn't feel like his body was being weighed down. He knew what was going on. Seeing the mage's broken state, the greater zombie had relented. It was well aware of how soundly it had defeated Ravvus. ”Cocky son of a...” Ravvus felt so ashamed. The creature had defeated him utterly without even laying a hand on him.
The blond mage clenched his fist. ”Damnit!” He muttered. ”I can't believe this.” Ravvus winced in pain, clutching his bleeding shoulder with his right hand. He glanced at Donovan with an expression mixed with pain, anger, and shame. ”Yeah. Yeah, lets go.” Trying to ignore both the pain in his shoulder and the shame of his defeat, Ravvus opened his book and attempted to focus. He felt his feet back peddle and begin to carry him in the direction of the caravan.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 7, 2015 14:27:00 GMT -6
The fiery tempered mage finally seemed to understand the precarious nature of the fight, and the pair began to run back toward the tree line. The mercenary noticed the bite mark on the mage’s shoulder. It’s a good thing he was wearing that armor. If he hadn’t, that thing would have taken out a whole chunk. The pair wasn’t far from the others, but they were virtually surrounded. Every time Donovan moved, there seemed to be another hand on his arm or leg. His sword was flashing desperately, removing limb after limb. At a certain point, he lost count of how many hand’s he’d cut off.
“Just. Keep. Moving. Forward!” He pushed one revenant to the ground and stomped on it’s skull, but one behind him used the opportunity to rake down his back, it’s sharp, fetid claw destroying his armor. Spinning around, he used his brim of his shield to pommel the creature’s temple. When did the big one get so close? Was the last thought the mercenary had before the huge monster’s claw crashed down on his shield. The force exhorted sent Donovan onto his knee, just to keep from breaking. The Entombed’s claw had broken through the hard wood and as it pulled away, it tore the targe off his arm. Had it not been for George’s hand axe taking the undead giant in the chest and distracting it for a moment, the young mercenary’s life would have ended quite suddenly and brutally. That didn’t stop him from getting a long gashialong his chest. Thankfully his armor, though now completely destroyed, had been enough to limit the injuries, but Donovan still had three long gashes running from his right collarbone to the left of his belly button.
“ARRRAAAAAHHHHHHH” The pain was excruciating. He’d never experienced anything like it. George’s hand grabbed the green clad mercenary by the scruff of his ruined shirt and tossed him toward the tree line. “Get the boy out of here!” Donovan tried to crawl out of the forest, but was grabbed by a multitude of hands, pulling him up. Looking up, expecting to see yet another face, rotting and falling apart, he saw the face of a weathered knight, pulling him up and onto his horse. “I’ve got you, son.” The bleeding mercenary looked back into the forest, but did not see where Ravvus had gone. Though that may have been because his vision was going in and out. The horse carrying Donovan to gallop away, as the mercenary desperately tried to see what had become of his comrades.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 7, 2015 19:03:15 GMT -6
What happened next was little more than a blur. The two mercenaries were completely swarmed. Donovan did his part to keep the undead off of the duo, but Ravvus was having trouble keeping up. There were simply too many undead. Donovan could swing his sword faster than the mage could conjure fireballs. As the two beat their feet across a field of snow and corpses, Ravvus saw a branch lying next to a tree. That might help. The blond mage ducked and snagged the thick limb of wood. With the branch in one hand and his book in the other, Ravvus summoned a fireball. He kept it in existence just long enough to light the other end of the wood. The tree branch was a little longer than his forearm, but a little shorter than the full length of his arm. It had a diameter of about one and half inches. It would serve as an impromptu blunt object. Just as he had finished lighting his new weapon, one of the revenants lunged towards him. Ravvus pulled back, just outside the reach of its dead hands. In a single smooth motion the mage tucked his fire tome away in his travel satchel, placed both hands on the branch, and swept the creature's leg. The revenant lost its balanced and fell face first into the snow below. The blond man smiled in triumph. That worked well.
Donovan collided into one of the revenants, casting it downwards. The green-armored mercenary stomped the creature's skull, eliciting approval from the blond mage. His display of force was both brutal and efficient. One of the other revenant's charged Ravvus. Back-stepping once more, Ravvus repeated the motions he'd used to topple the other revenant and met with similar results. His shoulder groaned as the mage used his left arm to supplement the force of his blows. It was difficult to ignore his wounds and fight at the same time. The undead began to surround him and Donovan again. ”By Barigan, how many of them are there?!” For the first time fear crept into Ravvus' voice. He took his fire tome back out, realizing the need for maximum firepower.
Just as he'd readied a secondary weapon, Ravvus saw a sharp hand collide with Donovan's back. The mage could do little more than watch as the mercenary came under blows. Blows which would normally have eviscerated him. Splinters exploded from the young man's shield, as the undead shore off his armor. Were it not for the timely arrival of George, Donovan's life would have ended then and there. Ravvus didn't know what to feel. He was ashamed. Ashamed because of his defeat. Ashamed because he believed his failure was indirectly responsible for Donovan's wounds. If Ravvus had been stronger, then the mercenary wouldn't have had to come back for him. Donovan wouldn't have left the line of defense and suffered those wounds. Ravvus' failures had helped cause this. But Ravvus was also furious. Furious for, more or less the same reasons. However, the center of his fury, unlike his shame, was not he, himself, but rather the undead. In the end, the blond man decided to go with fury. His blood boiled, ready to ready to fuel his fires.
Ravvus found himself back to back with George. They were surrounded again. The undead did not see it fit to give the two fighters any slack. ”We need to break out of here.” The mage was half-tempted to attempt to fend off the undead with just himself and George. Such a gamble would regain his honor. ”We can charge the two closest to the forest's edge.” But it was too risky. The colossal undead would simply need to use its' enervating stare again and the two warriors would stand no chance. ”If you can take them out, I can hit the ones adjacent to them.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 8, 2015 0:58:21 GMT -6
The grizzled fighter and hot tempered mage stood back to back, completely surrounded by the undead on all sides. The large beast had been kind enough to take a step back and allow it’s weaker companions to attack the pair. Though when George looked at the undead goliath, he felt like the monster was almost intelligent in how it was watching them. “I’ll take care of making a hole. You just make sure you break free as soon as I do and head back with all the others.” The fighter side stepped an attack from a fresher looking undead, and felled the beast with one powerful blow of his razor sharp axe.
George swung his axe and cleaved the limbs off of the pair of zombies blocking their exit before ramming his shoulder into one to knock it to the floor. An arrow shot out from the tree line and took the second undead in the base of the neck, seeming to kill it very quickly. The grizzled caravan guard made eye contact with the archer and nodded his head in gratitude. He grabbed the mage’s arm and pushed him forward. “Let’s go!”
Before he could keep moving forward, the fighter’s leg was pulled out from under him and he fell solidly on his face. He spun around in time to realize that the wall had closed up around him again, and this time he seemed all alone. The revenants seemed to suddenly calm down. The entombed was standing in the circle, watching George with curious eyes. The fighter reformed his grip on his axe stood, and ran straight at the monster. George’s large, steel axe crashed through the air and the entombed raised its forearm almost lazily. The blade sliced through the flesh, but it didn’t cut clean through the arm as he’d expected, instead stopping at the monster’s bone.
“Oh.” After the entombed had pulled off the man’s axe hand, the rest of the pack swarmed.
The green clad mercenary was woozily being led away from the fight on the back of a warrior's horse, the man was going as slowly as he could considering the circumstances, but each movement sent pain racking through Donovan's body. He tried to see what was happening in the battle, but they were getting too far away for him to be able to see anything more than a handful of soldiers starting to lose control of the line they'd been holding. "Come on, you two..." Donovan weakly muttered.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 8, 2015 16:08:24 GMT -6
As they neared the edge of the woods, George leveled his axe, ready to sunder the two undead closest to their exit. Without missing a beat, Ravvus leveled his branch, carrying it like a javelin. With an over-the-shoulder throw, the wooden rod flew from his hand and collided with the chest of one of the adjacent revenants. As this happened, the mage had spoken a second projectile into being. A fireball was now floating above his left shoulder. Its' heat an unwanted reminder of his wound. The blond man shuddered, trying to keep focus. Wincing in pain, he cast his fire upon the adjacent zombie to his left. As the sphere collided with the undead's leg, Ravvus combusted it. The dead man dropped to the snowy ground, a burning stump where its' leg had been. The way was now clear. Without warning, the mage felt a colossal hand grip his shoulder. The ground went out from underneath him.
Ravvus soared briefly, before falling to the earth and tumbling once. Speckles of white decorated his yellow hair. The blond man looked back to the crowd of zombies to see that the aperture he and George had created had quickly sealed back up. It was then that he realized that George was still behind enemy lines, surrounded and trapped inside a circle of the dead. The fool had thrown the blond mage in an attempt to save the him. Ravvus cursed the man's altruism and tried to regain his footing. He was determined not to let his failure be compounded with the large man's death. The mage cast his eyes on his book, but immediately felt the return of the evil pressure. ”By the Eight...” He moaned, taking a knee. He knew what this feeling meant. He glanced upward to see a familiar pair of determined, yellow eyes. The larger undead, definitely at least half a foot taller than the other revenants, was literally starring him down. It marched forward, slowly and purposefully, with a large axe, George's axe, embedded in its' shoulder. With a hand colored both pale tan and muscular red, it yanked the weapon from its body and carelessly tossed it to the ground. Ravvus peered back into the crowd, trying to find George, but the axe-fighter had disappeared underneath a wall of corpses. The blond mage had failed again.
The mage's fist shot into the snow and dirt. ”DAMNIT!!” He spat through a set of clenched teeth. He was so powerless. Even with all of his magic, even with all of his knowledge, he wasn't strong enough. The alpha zombie simply had to look at him and he crumpled. His body was a lead weight, nearly incapable of functioning. He'd failed George, he'd failed Donovan, and most importantly, he'd failed himself. He couldn't fight. Fighting was the one thing he was supposed to be good at and he couldn't do it. All he could do was wait to be slaughtered. Slaughtered by inferior creatures and their insolent alpha. Ravvus locked eyes with the undead leader. It was almost upon him. A clammy, cold hand started to reach out. Its' target was the mage's frail neck. Tears welled up in Ravvus' eyes. He grit his teeth. This undead beast. This monster which had been eyeing him the entire journey, the one which seemed so intent on humiliating him. He would not let it live. Even if it killed him, Ravvus would not let this boastful creature live. The mage whispered a fireball into being around the alpha's hand. He charged it with a multitude of feelings and emotions. Contempt, desperation, focus, even peace. The sight of his magic was like nothing the mage had ever seen before. He wished he had words to describe it. There was a great flash.
Ravvus' frame flew back several feet, flung by the force of the blast. He felt light. For a moment, he wondered if he was dead, if what he was experiencing was the embrace of death. It was a strange sensation. His body felt weightless and his senses were calm. He could feel a cool breeze run through his hair. As his body traveled through the air, defying gravity, he recalled some of the very first words Eagle had said to him. ”What we do is dangerous work, boy. Death is going to stare you in the face every day. And it'll keep staring until you do something stupid. Then its' going to stop starring and start smiling. Smiling because it can finally claim you for its' own. That's when you know its' over, when you see death's stupid-looking grin. At that point, the only thing you can do is smile back. If you aren't ready to die, if you aren't ready to smile back, you shouldn't be signing up.” It was funny. Ravvus had lied when he'd joined the Pathfinders. He'd had no intention of dying. He never expected he'd be able to look death in the face and smile back, not yet at least. But as his body sailed through the sky, he felt oddly content. A smile was on his face.
That smile broke when he finally landed on the ground, felt a stinging pain at the back of his head, and realized that he wasn't dead. He sat up, lightly touching the source of pain with his hand. How had he survived? He looked back at the undead alpha. Its' left hand was a charred mess. In fact its' left arm and beyond had been blackened by the blast. The dark burns traveled far, finally ending halfway across the zombie's stomach, leg, and face. The alpha's unblackened hand was moving about its face, hovering just above its' left eye. The mage suddenly knew why he was alive or, rather, why he'd momentarily thought himself dead. Being a mage, Ravvus a natural resistance to the elements. Most fireballs, even one exploding at such a close range, would not kill him. He'd felt light because the blast had damaged the alpha's eye. Whatever ability the undead used to induce fatigue, it needed its eyes in order to do so. At the very least it needed a line of sight. Ravvus grinned. He finally knew how to beat this monster. And the best part was that he could only beat it by fighting dirty.
Focused, Ravvus called forth a fireball. It was smaller than the other one's he'd been summoning. The goal of this one was not to destroy the alpha zombie, but simply blind ot. It shot forward, grazing the head of the alpha. The creature had now stopped examining its wounds and refocused its attention on Ravvus. With one remaining eye, it was still able to use that annoying ability. The mage felt his body get heavier, but he fought on undetered. If he could get one good shot in, this fight would be over. Another tiny spark sped forward, this time embedding itself just above the horror's good eye. At this point, the undead realized what Ravvus was trying to do and quickly covered its' intact eye. It didn't matter. Such a defensive option merely allowed the mage to fight more freely. A larger fireball formed above the mage's hand and collided with the alpha. The zombie staggered under the weight of the blast. By this point, the alpha realized that the tables had turned and that it was now the one who was outclassed. It began to skulk back to the wall of dead surrounding George. ”No!” Ravvus cried. ”Don't you dare!” An orb of fire sputtered after the giant undead, but by that point it was safely behind its kin. An unlucky revenant intercepted the blast and was reduced to a pile of limbs and ash.
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