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Post by Althea on Jan 17, 2018 6:17:45 GMT -6
Althea liked to think she was pretty smart. Attentive. She could keep her mind focused better than most, at least - whether that was a result of supreme genius or just old-fashioned stubbornness was something she tried not to think too much about. And she was trying her Nether damndest to track everything on the battlefield at once.
It... wasn't going very well.
There were simply too many Baels, too many projectiles, too many victims for her to even hope to handle them all.
So she didn't.
Focus was what she did best after all - if she could not affect everything at once - it was simply best to affect that which she could. So. Strategic analysis. Her position was not safe to continue entirely uncaring of her surroundings. She needed to either relocate or enlist cover. That thief - Sigma - was gone... somewhere. She didn't have the time to wonder where or the emotional disposition to care in that instant. The lancer... still on the wall. Doing rather well for himself in fact. Not bad. The green mage... Oh! Yes. Vincent had named her now that she thought about it, though it had gone mostly unnoticed at the time - Mila. Fine. Doing some teleportation marlarkey. If she hadn't been so busy focusing Althea would have reacted with some surprise outwardly, she was conceptually familiar with it but had very rarely actually witnessed it. And the young swordsman. Vincent. Ah. Yes. Cavorting about with the Baels. On the ground. He was either very VERY brave, very VERY unfortunate, or very VERY stupid.
He was also, unfortunately, important enough that losing him would be a blow to their effort. Something she could not aid with directly. Perhaps Mila could, if she saw him and could teleport from that distance - Althea was uncertain - but she herself could not. And now there were... more, larger creatures joining the fray. So. Target prioritization. Cover. Vincent. Larger specimens. Try not to die. Hm. That last one seemed like it should go up higher.
Two of the circles rotating behind her rotated as her head did, tracking the fallen swordsman through the skittering tide. Far too many creatures between the two of them for her to clear them all out. It would take Ereshkigal for that, and - well. Not an option. The best she could do was provide very limited covering fire. Focusing. Each sigil brightening as its rotation sped. Refining her calculations with recent data - an unwanted pause in action - necessary to fire within acceptable tolerances. Hitting Vincent would not help anyone much. A thin purple-black beam lanced out, curving almost imperceptibly - she cursed inwardly as it simply carved through several legs and glanced the abdomen of one of the Baels nearest the mercenary, arresting its momentum but not ending it. Overcompensation from fear of hitting ally. Cause logged and accepted. Altering acceptable paramaters - another ray, straighter, narrower, penetrating through another of the creatures near him. Not much of a covering volley but each strike took more than she had expected given the significant increase in distance and multiple conflicting factors.
"You." She spoke with almost harshly even tones, undulating without much sense of rising or falling or emphasis at all, addressing the 'soldier' a few feet to her right, who was looking somewhat confused. "Cover wall." It was simple tactical reality - she and Mila were high value assets, possessing firepower and utility the militia did not - she would not waste their lives, but neither would she waste her own. "Mila," the spirit host continued, louder, not turning to the green mage but requesting audience in no uncertain terms. "Vincent requires your aid. I cannot cover him for long."
Another dark ray lanced out followed moments later by another, each spearing one of the smaller Baels near the embattled mercenary, each a pitiful needle in the haystack of waving legs and bloated bellies. Part of her mind already at work on trying to come up with a plan of attack on how to deal with these larger creatures. Oh, she knew how Ereshkigal would - but she was not Ereshkigal. And it was an unsightly solution anyways. Far more elegant to use a calculated minimum of firepower than unnecessary excess, as it were.
She had the beginnings of a plan, but there was little else she could do until Vincent was freed or the mission was failed and she was freed to focus on the nearer task.
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Post by Mila on Jan 17, 2018 16:44:12 GMT -6
The green haired sage pulled herself away from her wall and made her way back towards the wall. She tried to but, someone ran up to her with a grizzly looking wound. The blood acid ate away at the man's armor and left him with a sizeable hole in his shoulder. There was nothing Mila could do to reverse the damage. But, she did share with the man some of her medical supplies. He took what he could and took off. Mila felt bad about leaving the man as he was. Staff magic was great at binding bones, mending wounds, and numbing pain. But, she found them to be horribly ineffective to things like chemical and fire burns. Or perhaps it was all due to the fact that she was still a novice when it came to staff magic. She can teleport a man vast, mend a big wound, and heal minor breaks, and sprains. And that was about it to the limits of her staff magic. Something, she knew she would need to work on as more and more people would come to rely on her for things.
Her head was a painful pounding mess but not severe enough to take her out of fight. She leaned over the wall to check up on the status of things. And everything is suddenly worse then it was before. The smaller bael bastards were learning. And she hated when monsters learned to learn. They made her wall spikes seem useless. Thanks, to the combined efforts of all humans, involved the smaller baels were steadily being dealt with. The bad news was that there were two bigger baels looking to take their place. Bigger baels she could deal with. She'd SEEN some pretty big baels. Thank you Vinland. And one of the big baels was running to the wall with the intention to ram.
Crap. Mila thought to herself. And then she spied Vincent falling down from the wall. Wait? I thought you were on the ground! Her eyes widened and she grabbed her warping staff. No! No! No! She tried to focus her magic on him. But, by the time she got to the whole focus on your target and figure out where you want him to go part, of the warping magic, Vincent was already on the ground.Crap! She looked around hoping to find a quick path down towards where he fell.
"Crap! Again!" She wanted to run down and help him. But, she also needed to address the Bael that was heading towards the wall. But, something hit it. A weird ray of light. She turned her head to see that it came from Althea. How is she still casting?! Most folks would be dead tired after lobbing the first wave of dark magic beams. But, she didn't have time to ask the hows and how to learn to do that. Althea spoke(?) to her and Mila obliged.
"Got it! Going! Thank you!" Words! She ran out towards Vincent's direction. She made her way down the stairs and promptly stopped. The Bael she thought she was going to encounter was skewered on the wall. Mila had to jump around the steadily pooling piles of blood. She made her way down towards Vincent.
"Vincent!" She crouched down towards him.
"Ah.. sh*t." Mila grabbed the heal staff. She took a deep breath and focused. The warm light of the staff radiated towards the fallen Hero and slowly mended the cut. And dulled his pain.
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Post by Vincent on Jan 20, 2018 13:27:44 GMT -6
The dark lances from Althea's attacks were good for morale and equally terrifying. All who bore witness to such raw might were grateful that they were on her side. As for the charging baels... they were less than ecstatic. They were bombarded and ripped apart, limbs sent scattering about and one that was reduced to merely a legless bulb.
The charging bael collided with the wall with such might as to shake it to its foundation. Thankfully stone would not be so easily torn down but cracks in the defenses were forming. If left unchecked the floodgates would open and the odds of saving the old city would be reduced drastically. Tom, the elderly hunter, ordered his fellows to focus on the larger bael in a moment of desperation. The arrows were as pinpricks to the beast while the smaller of their ilk were now unhindered by the arrows. The first of the charging behemoths seemed to have actually been dazed by its actions and now sauntered back in an odd stumble but the second of the larger baels was in turn readying to charge.
'Vincent!' he heard his name in a distant haze.
"Muh?" It was not the coherent question he would have hoped to ask but it would have to do. He was returning from what felt like an impossibly long dream as a soothing sensation came over him. He was rousing again but to sleep comfortably was what his body demanded of him. Good thing his mind and will were stronger.
He opened his eyes after a moment but they did not see. They shown briefly as though covered in a pale blue flame but several blinks later they were normal again as he stared confused into Mila's face. "Mila?" He shot up into a sitting position as events returned to his mind. The sudden jarring motion left his mind reeling and dizzy, but he had little time to dwell. "Thank you," his voice was sheepish as he tried to mask the shame he felt for inconveniencing everyone like this. He never wanted to be so important as to have others risk everything on him but here they were and he was failing them.
The baels that were down on their level were held back by a bombardment of dark spells but there was little time to rest and recover and even less desire to let the creatures close back in on them. "Stay close!" Vincent ordered Mila as soon as he was back on his feet. "We aren't free yet." As if on instinct he hurried to retrieve his blade which was wracked in the same sort of light as his eyes were. "Mila, if we can kill the three big ones the small ones will scatter." Now to just get back on the wall.
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Post by Althea on Feb 10, 2018 19:49:31 GMT -6
After all the recent, ah, hullaboo with Ereshkigal, it was... nice to be entirely herself again. To be able to act and fight and think as herself alone, without relying on the erratic spirit's tremendous power and frustratingly unpredictable behavior and troublesome manner. Althea wasn't jealous or anything silly like that, obviously, that was for lesser people. But despite the very real threat she found it almost relaxing to be able to rely solely on herself again for the time being.
-Relatively speaking at least. There was still the minor concern of the army of spiders incoming to devour them all.
And now several large Baels to boot, those that she was uncertain she could handle alone. The caliber of beams she had been using would still do damage to them most likely, but creatures of that sheer scale and especially mass could still cause serious damage - and if they actually started hammering on the walls, it was a foregone conclusion that they would break through in short order. The seismic forces destabilizing the walls would make her vantage point worse than useless as well, interfering with casting, and their overall defense would crumble quickly if any part of it fell apart.
...She would have much preferred to discuss the situation with the other mage, Mila, but said emerald magus was off giving their fallen hero hugs and kisses or whatever inane lunacy it was that had possessed the mage to lower herself from the walls into the path of danger, and that left her alone. Mostly. Althea didn't dislike the villagers, exactly, but she didn't really know what to say to them or how to empathize. As long as they helped keep away the small Baels while she focused she figured it was better to let them do their thing while she did hers; none of them looked particularly eager to get near a witch like her.
Hm. This was similar to the ship problem, wasn't it? The pirate attack en route from Khan Yunis to Badon. Too many minions to fight, but striking their base of operations or leadership could provide a temporary reprieve. But there was no Drei to help weaken the ship's hull for her this time, and no Ereshkigal to sweep them all away as she had in the raid the other day. It was possible she would be able to rely on Mila in some manner, the mage seemed to have an impressive level of control of earth and fire magic, but the only real experience Althea had in comboing with Anima magic was Circe, months ago and much... smaller scale so to speak. Not to mention the difficulty of distance and lack of time to collaborate.
Althea raised her right hand, leveling it at one of the greater Baels as she spread her feet apart, stepping forward and sideways to align herself parallel to the firing axis. There was no way she could replicate what Ereshkigal had done previously, the feat that left the spirit still sleeping now, but it was clear that she DID need more firepower, and hey, she might not be much of a battle maniac, but she was curious to see how far she had progressed over time.
Behind her the four emblems of shimmering magic intensified, whites and purples mingling into a constant stream as Althea continued to puzzle her way through the system she was attempting to create. It didn't have to last long, it COULDN'T last long without burning herself away with it, but it needed to remain coherent for long enough to fire for effect and dissipate the exhaust away from her. Each sigil would need to be stabilized - no, not just stabilized, aligned - perfectly so, that could act to counterbalance the force - her mind whirling through each successive problem, a grinding gear of unrelenting progress.
"Stand clear," was all she had the concentration to state clearly to the villagers near her, a set of absolute orders, brooking no disagreement, that none of them had any particular argument with obeying. A thin ray of flickering light from each sigil, a pilot tracing the course, followed by another, another, another - as each of the four emblems rotated and oriented themselves according to the ongoing stream of calculations, aligning two worlds along four intersections simultaneously and consecutively. From above her right, her left, below center-mass left, below-centermass right, each ray coalescing in front of her opened palm in a tiny flickering sphere of magic that flickered between light and dark.
The walls shook for a moment, the nearest Bael crashing into it again, below her firing angle and closer to Vin and Mila - Althea gritted her teeth and scowled as she attempted to reconfigure the calculations to account for the sudden and unwanted introduction of kinetic energy. There would be a short window of opportunity when the middle Bael, currently the largest was charging - their size and bulk making it far more difficult for them to adjust their motion significantly mid-movement - making them an easy target if she accounted for its velocity correctly.
Each of the four rays burst into raging fury as the slender lights exploded into a screaming stream of light and shadow wreathed into each other, crashing into each other at the fulcrum of her hand as the magic scoured the air around her, sending waves of force and pain up her arm that she ignored as best she could. Each of the four beams clashing and coalescing into something greater than the sum of its parts, an inherently entropic reaction that increased exponentially in both energy and potential - for good and ill, the detonation point mere fractions above her calculated ideal mass. Throughout it the solution's equation complexity growing, fracturing. Flecks of stone peeling and disintegrating from the ramparts before her, beneath the growing sphere of sound and fury, mere hints of the damage it would do if she miscalculated or was interrupted before the appropriate moment.
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Post by Mila on Feb 14, 2018 10:08:58 GMT -6
Mila? Thank the gods. He's conscious. Mila let out a sigh of relief. Vincent shot up into a sitting position rather quickly. Mila pulled her head back before his bonked into hers. Okay. Assess him.. Mila had her hand on his back. it was a gesture of support but at the same time she was monitoring his breathing.
"You are welcome." She replied to his thanks.
"You feel anything weird? Numbness? Bleeding?" Freaky Glowey Eyes. Mila wanted to say more. But, the stresses of everything were starting to affect her. She wanted to keep going but her body was starting to demand other things of her. She put the heal staff away. As Vincent went to grab his weapon the sage found herself leaning against the wall. Slightly pale and a bit out of breath. Breathe. Just. Breathe.
"Don't got much of a choice. I'll stick to you like glue." She half joked. Nice to see her sense of humor was still kicking in at some of the worst possible moments. The sage could see and hear Althea's magic in the distance. That girl was like a fountain of raw magic, something she had never seen before. Fountains run dry after a certain point. The sage was certain of that. Sooner or later the woman would need to rest or r the nether might claim her entirely. Mila wasn't fully versed in the arts of shadow magic, but she knew there were limits. Scarifies. Like all things in life.
"Vin, I can't.. do much. I'm tapped out of magic for a bit." She peeled herself off the wall and tagged behind Vincent. It was at this point she realized that Vincent's sword was glowing. Same glow as his eyes. They are clearly doing something. If this was a controlled setting the sage would document what was going on. She'd never seen such a well established bond between magical weapon and wielder. But, this wasn't the time or the place for one of her observations. They needed to keep moving or else they would become bael food.
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Post by Vincent on Feb 14, 2018 17:08:31 GMT -6
[Following fewotw.proboards.com/thread/6941/hanging-tree-weapon-ascension?page=1&scrollTo=91102]"I'm alright Mila, I promise." Vincent was quick to brush off Mila's inquiries and in truth he had lost a fair bit of blood from his head and suffered a few burns to his back but overall he could stand and he could fight. Until the battle was done that would have to be enough. Besides, his adrenaline had kicked in well enough he hardly noticed his pains and problems, but he would later. Vin nodded to Mila when she confided that her power was spent. Not ideal since her powers could have served to give them cover, or raise the earth to help them back on the wall. "Mila, I think we're all going to be rather spent in just a moment but I need you to be ready to get us out of here if possible, if not, then the moment of impact we make a break for it." Althea was doing something and it was... big. Maybe, just maybe it was big enough to take out one of the larger baels, maybe two. Even if they're spent they might be able to handle the third if its alone. "Alright! Let's do something stupid!" Vincent's goal was to corral the baels together so Althea's magic could hit them both. And well, he was also interested to see what would happen if he finally let loose. A raging blue light erupted from Phoenix Heart. It felt like the upper limits of its power were being let loose and yet, now, Vincent's body did not shake under it and he knew better. This was its limit, but not their limit! The power reverberated in the air like dynamite as Vincent looked for the ideal path to cut. There was a brief faltering among the baels, between the mass of nether from above and now light from their level, only pain and death could await them, but the larger baels seemed undeterred and this got the smaller ones moving again. "If this ends up not working and I go down, promise me you'll save yourself." 'Okay Phoenix Heart! You said I need this to win here, so now it’s time to prove it!' Vincent shut his eyes, appearing outwardly calm, taking in a deep breath before what appeared to be the figure of a person overlapped with Vincent. The illusory form seemed to fade in and out of existence but it was undeniably there. He began to feel hot, very hot, his body began to sweat more than he already did as he shifted his stance. Was this what it was like to use magic? Never having trained in it he wondered if he was just weak or if this is what it took to break it, “THIRD SEAL!!!” the light swirled and became like liquid fire around the blade. Vincent himself was wreathed in the power as it flowed through him and into the blade. It was a circular and sustainable flow for the moment, but when Althea lot loose so too would he.
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Post by Althea on Feb 14, 2018 22:42:36 GMT -6
It was - difficult to focus entirely on the task at hand. The fighting on the walls continued. The rumbling shaking of what she stood on. The knowledge of how fragile this defense could really be if left unattended for even a moment. Shouts and screams throughout the battlefield. It was not a place she enjoyed. Not a place she wanted to die in, either. But if she was to live, then she had to stand and fight at this point. To quiver and quibble over the decisions that led her here, over what others did, would do little to aid her in this endeavor. Pushing all extraneous thought from her mind as best as possible, Althea focused on her task, refining the equation and metering the flow of magic as the four streams of partially refined Nether energies fed into the far more carefully, meticulously bound sphere of energy in the palm of her hand. She couldn't see the third of the three Baels through her narrow focus, but another was beginning to charge, even as the swordsman started doing something with magic of his own of unexpected power... hm. How long could she sustain the blast? Not long enough to eradicate the entire attack, obviously. She didn't even need to try to calculate that; it was a simple question of scale, a scalpel versus an ocean. How durable were the larger creatures? Would it take a second, a fraction of a second, several seconds, to burn through their abdomen? The easy target. But perhaps too durable. And there were serious questions about the durability of her magical construct if the firing angle was adjusted in action. But she didn't see how to avoid it. For the time being she would have to trust in the quality of her calculations. ...Not really what she wanted her last words to be. Althea grimaced, as much from the thought of those being her last thoughts as from the building charge reverbating through her right arm, at the verge of turning on itself. The hell with it. So maybe she couldn't do it as well as Ereshkigal, but she had to try something at least. The humming threnody of the Nether consuming itself around her rose to a crescendo as the orb reached its zenith, and despite the momentary uncertainty of fearing her calculations incorrect Althea trusted herself enough to trust them in turn, each gate of the quad-layered seal dissolving inward as their timed existences dissipated. Drawn inward, consumed by the orb of power they had held back for too long. The screaming stream of crackling energy erupted outward like a lance of solid energy, a swirling mix of darkness and light two feet thick, consuming itself as quickly as the air it passed through, wreathed in a electric haze of twilight, cast off energy shed from the controlled beam itself as well as the disintegrating sealing arrays that had held it in place. Traversing the distance in a heartbeat and piercing through the unprepared Bael's head, scything through one after another of its armored legs like a blade through wheat as Althea found herself nearly thrown bodily by the force of the recoil. A massive blast of force that felt as though it would dislocate her shoulder, forced to bring her spare arm to steady the right, trying to retain control of the reaction as it threatened endlessly to disintegrate. Already dead, most of its head evaporated, the Bael's momentum carried its bulbous abdomen into the slicing stream even as a momentary miscalculation accelerated the planned gradual swivel into a rapid swerve - the beam ripping through the remainder of its left legs and leaving a swath of unrelenting destruction behind it as it abruptly swung towards Vincent and Mila, carving through the earth and smaller Baels in its path alike along a line of debris and detonating acid. The curve was slightly higher than she had calculated - the velocity far higher than the sedate pace she had anticipated - it took less than a heartbeat for the alignment to falter, only a few degrees off from what she had intended but the destabilization had already begun, the orb detonating outward as the sealing array crumbled to dust in the wind. The beam itself blinked out almost as abruptly as it had begun, barely grazing the second Bael she had intended to eradicate with it, taking out its front right leg and singing the one behind it to destabilize the creature. Leaving a wanton trail of devastation behind it, the ocean of smaller baels temporarily separated, but also a violent explosion of eldritch energy that obscured the dark mage from view, dealing no small degree of damage to the stone and masonry that had been before her, and hurled Althea backward momentarily insensate from the violent dispersal of energy as each of the four sigils behind her disintegrated into light and shadow swimming into nothingness. ------ This is kinda how I envisioned the beam aesthetically, albeit much smaller scale than the one in the video haha. youtu.be/vFSwDMDzsOg?list=PLMveI-juPNr9JmYYCtKSmd8ILnhFSLSDZ&t=108
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Post by Vincent on Feb 22, 2018 1:40:36 GMT -6
(OOC: Mila and Vin swapping order for this round to make things more connected)
It was now time; Althea's power was let loose with such a destructive force that it almost seemed like reality itself crackled and rejected the notion of such a power. She ripped an entire bael into two pieces and tore the legs off another's right side. It was terrible and magnificent in its scope. It was a shame, truly, that Vincent had learned to read so late into his life, magic was such a terrible and wondrous beauty.
The attack tore into the earth as well, leaving it marked and casting debris about. Their path was made clear and Vincent was going to walk, nay, run it! The circuit of magic he held with Phoenix Heart ran through his body and seemed to awaken something in him. It was a feeling of power that he had touched only once and very briefly, like another energy was flooding from the deep into their combined efforts. There was little time to think, he needed to act!
(Celerity) The hero set the blade back by his side before leaning ever so slightly forward. With a powerful kick of his back leg he ran faster than he had ever gone before, faster than anyone he had ever seen before, he felt like he was strengthened by Elias again, save this time this was his own power! He weaved around smaller baels and they could hardly catch him before he moved underneath the wounded greater bael. As his pace came back to something slower he cut the bael from underneath spilling its innards. Once on the other side it was time to break the circuit.
In an explosion of power Phoenix Heart was brought down as a follow up with all of the magic pouring out in copious amounts, channeled from the spirit and emboldened by Vincent's own power. It was like a funnel being burst open as the bael was cut in two with the light exploding in such intensity as to outshine all of the fires. The second of the baels was fallen and this caused the lesser baels to become disorganized. They continued to fight but many also scattered. For the briefest of moments it felt like heroes of another age had begun to walk among the people again. What seemed like titanic beasts torn asunder in displays of strength never even imagined possible and turning the tide of battle. But then the moment passed, not only for those that witnessed it, but so too for the men and women looked at as the heroes reborn.
As for Vincent's part he had grown accustomed to Phoenix Heart granting him power over time. It was almost like an eleventh hour trump card he could count on, but not this time. This time the power he had used was not from the sword alone, but rather he and the spirit. Vincent was not accustomed to magical exertion, nor the usage of natural energy within his body and in a moment he had done both. What had seemed near a feat to rival that of his title he felt victorious until his body reacted. First it was his legs, the muscles seizing as he collapsed to his knees. Phoenix Heart lay flat under his palms as he tried to catch his breath. It was haggard before he began to cough unable to properly catch the air in his lungs. He lacked any restraint or control of his magical output and so his body rejected the strain. As liquid blocked his breaths he coughed only to see red. His whole body shook and he lacked the strength to stand.
Finally the largest of the baels revealed itself. It stood as tall as the walls and despite the damages done it cared nothing for the individuals that held power. It knew it was stronger than them, its very existence was better than them. Or at least it would have if Baels had a sense of pride. It charged the walls and struck into the damaged structure. The force of impact shook the walls for hundreds of feet as it tore through it and into the city. The wall did not hold and it was time to make a decision. Would the defenders flee the city, their roles fulfilled in having given the civilians enough time to leave, or would they bank all of their hopes on killing the final bael?
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Post by Mila on Feb 23, 2018 20:38:55 GMT -6
Mila stood there. She watched as the beam of destruction tore through the baels like a hot knife through butter. Gods above I knew Elder Magic was strong. But, Not this strong! The air around the blast site was so strange. She could feel tidbits of the elder magic in the air. It made the hair's on her neck, arms, legs, stand up on end. Her body was unsure if these sensations were from fear or of interest. Vincent's movements snapped her out of her stunned state. Right, she was supposed to stick close to him. Mila followed behind him briefly, but then he did something that caught her off guard. The hero started to run FAST. Are you serious?!
And not just in any direction either. He ran around towards the danger. Towards the tiny baels and off towards one of he larger ones. The sage moved then took refuge behind a pile of debris. Mila took in a deep breath and let it out through her nose. Frustration. Anger. The sage was pretty sure Vincent didn't mean it. He's hocked up on Pheonix's Heart's magic. No way he would have known he had supersonic speed at this exact moment. No way he could have realized he just ditched the green-eyed sage in that fit of speed. No way he could have known that abandoning her in a death gauntlet to save your own skin was one of her peeves.
Keep Moving. She reminded herself. Angrily Keep Moving. She shook her head. Focus. She repeated the word in her head as she moved. She timed her running and hid behind anything she could find along the path of destruction. By the time she had caught up with Vincent, the heel cutter was on the ground gasping for breath. Mila knew what that meant. It meant that he was exhausted. He overexerted himself with magic and now his body was paying the price. Rookie. Though.. I can't blame you. The first time exhausts everyone. She crouched down. She was willing to give him a bit of her magic. Just enough for him to regain the strength to stand. And that's when she saw the big bael. She looked around at the rest of the surroundings. The village was in ruins. The wall was damaged. Althea's laser light balls had turned themselves off. Crap. She's probably in a similar if not worse state then Vin.
"Vincent. This battle is over. I'm signaling the retreat. We've done what we were supposed to do. Buy the villagers time to escape." She spoke to him. The sage held off on giving him her magic, lest he do something dumb with it. Like charge after the big bael. She then stood up again and signaled for help. A few men approached her.
"Get him out of here. Sound the retreat. We are done here."
"But!" One of them protested.
"No buts! This battle is lost." She glanced back at the big bael. It's body was near one of the large fires that were used to make a smoke screen.
"I'll distract the big bael. Just GO!" She spoke with frustration in her voice. Mila took a few hesitant steps towards the big baels direction. Breathe. She raised her hand and an orange orb of fire appeared. What was in those fires? Oil right? Yeah. I think.. I can do something with that.
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Post by Vincent on Apr 6, 2018 11:50:22 GMT -6
Vincent let the brief healing wash over him and return his body to a balanced state. Thank you Mila, he thought until the healing was cut off. Not just a faltering out, she cut him off outright! He could stand, albeit shakily, leaning on his blade all the while. “No, Mila, we can win! You just, you just to heal me a bit more. Hold it off until I can hit That bael like this one!” His voice was broken and desperate. Mila’s orders were being carried out though.
The two men of the militia that came when called began to aid Vincent so they could retreat as a third ran back giving the signal of retreat. “No! Get off of me! I can still fight!” Vincent began to shout and squirm weakly. It was enough to make holding him difficult but not enough that he could actually escape.
“Will you stop that!? It’s over!”
“Mila please! We can still do this! I can still do this!!!” Vincent tried once more to escape and found himself successful as his legs gave way. Hitting the ground he forced himself to stand once more. “See! I...” he had to catch his breath, for some strange reason it continued to leave him. “I can stand!” He managed. “C’mon, let’s get in there!” He had fallen into begging, pleading. None seemed to budge on this decision, they lost, the city would be lost, the monsters would spread! “Please.” His voice fell off as tears, a mix of rage, terror, and grief began to well in him. One more step, he meant to close the distance between him and Mila, if he could make her see, if only she could understand’
The men of the militia grabbed him more harshly and began to drag him with them. “No! Let go! Please! Mila!” Maybe she could kill the last one! It’s just one more! That’s it! Just one and they are done! “Mila!” This isn’t Right! This isn’t fair! How dare he give the people hope and then abandon it like this! He should fight and win or die before betraying that trust! He can’t run! Mila! Don’t make him betray everyone! Damn it Mila! “Milaaaaaaaa!!!!!” His final cry was drawn out and full of hurt and confusion, betrayal and rage, it was a wellspring if emotion not even he could make sense of.
The town bell finally rang through the night. Where once it signaled the beginning of the battle, so too did it sound the end. It’s ring was haunting and echoing. The sound would haunt Vincent’s dreams and thoughts for months to come.
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dimino
Soldier
Posts: 37
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Dimino
OoC Alias: Fargus
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Post by dimino on Apr 7, 2018 8:18:33 GMT -6
(OOC: I apologize for my long absence, I needed to fix some things related to my career)
(BIC) Dimino looked over toward the Elder Bael that had approached, that was when he heard the bell that signaled the retreat. Was the battle truely lost to save the village? No...he had to keep fighting! "You men go, I'll keep the remaining Baels busy while you retreat" he said to the remaining militamen that stayed behind. "But-" One of them started to protest "I TOLD YOU TO GO! THAT IS AN ORDER!" Dimino shouted. The militaman turned his head as he and the other fighters ran out the city gates...or what were left of them.
Dimino turned his attention back toward the Elder Bael when he saw one of the volunteer fighters fighting it. It looked like that she was trying to buy time for the others to escape from the terrors of that monster. Like hell am I going to leave anyone behind, no matter who they are Dimino thought. He clutched his blood soaked lance and started to head in that direction to see if he can be of some aid. That was when his attention turned back toward a wounded militiaman who had trouble walking. If Dimino helped the Sage, he'd risk putting the wounded in danger since they have no way of escaping alive. Yet, if he helped the wounded escape, he'd essentially be leaving the Sage behind to fend for herself against the Elder Bael, which went against his tribes code and honor, leave no warrior behind! Theoí me synchoríso... Dimino muttered as he went to aid the wounded militiaman escape. He just went against his tribes code and honor...
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Post by Mila on Apr 7, 2018 14:08:13 GMT -6
Fire. Fire. Fire. Use the fire. She could feel the effects of the Volcannon tome welling up inside her. The power of fire and the willpower to move that fire to her desired location. She focused hard on the fire that was already emanating from the large burning pile of debris. The orange orb of flame in her bare hand seemed to respond to it. Focus. Focus. Her energy reserves were already low. She hoped to lessen the use of her own energy by tapping into the energies of the fire already on the field. Slowly. Easy now. She moved the ball of flame in her hand slowly, the flames from the pile seemed to move with her hand. Heavy. Heavy. Hea!
"MILA!" She heard Vincent's shrieks. The orb of fire in her hand suddenly doubled in size. F..FU**! FINGERS! Her mental voice cried out. The orb of fire burned her fingertips and the sage did her best to wrestle control of the fire. She managed to bring the orb back to standard size but with each cry of her own name the orb of fire threatened to flicker back to a bigger size. The sage shook her head. She eventually let the orb of fire go. She closed her palm. The pain in her fingers seemed to dull as they retreated into her palm. Idiot. You're foolish pride is gonna get you killed. Mila fought back the urge to turn around and yell at him. To tell him he was an idiot for both not accepting the retreat and for breaking her previous concentration. She was trying to save him from this fight. They gave the hope of survival to the people. They were responsible for keeping the horde at bay while the others retreated. Right. Mila.. focus. Focus. Our.. job is not yet done.
The sage returned her attention to the flaming debris. She extended her hand out again and the orb of fire appeared once more. I'll make sure.. ya'll get out. She let out a breath. She approached the flaming pile. The closer she got to the fire less strain she felt. Focus. Focus. Focus. The giant bael approached. Control. Control. Control. She repeated it to herself. She could see off the corner of her eye two figures. She would have been completely blind to them had not one of them had such reflective armor.
"Get out while you can!" She shouted. Then stopped herself. She was half way between the approaching bael and the flaming pile of flammable substances. She stood still. She let the warmth of the Volcannon take hold of her. She could feel it welling up in her belly and slowly trailing itself up her throat and into her chest. Control. She kept repeating the word in her mind. She spread her fingers wide as the orb of fire slowly grew to double it's original size. Her gaze was transfixed to the approaching bael. The power of flame normally willed a person with dangerous over confidence. But, not this time. The sage was oddly calm as the power of fire came to her beck and call. The very flames of the flaming pile seemed to stream themselves towards the orb in her hand. She waited. She waited. And waited. She very slowly raised her arm up and the orb of fire rose with it. Control. Control. Control.
To those who could see her, the very ends of her clothes were starting to singe and fray. And even her very eyes took a slightly orange glow, though many could argue that it was merely the firelight reflecting off those green orbs in her skull. Focus. Breathe. Breathe. Control. She was careful with her breathing. Calm. Deep breaths. When the bael was about ten feet in front of her. She let the power of Volcannon loose. An impressive stream of flame emerged from the orb and landed squarely in the bael's maw. Her intention was to hit the eyes but the "general face area" seemed to work well enough. Control. CONTROL! Burn?
BURN! YES! BURN! BURN! BURN! The stream of fire seemed to grow in intensity. BURN! The bael was unable to handle the sudden impact of fire and heat to it's face. It shrieked in pain and retreated slightly in it's step. Burn! Burn! Burn! CONSUME! CONSUME! She felt her control slipping. The fire of the debris behind her was starting to wane. A fire pile that was supposed to burn until daylight was rapidly being sapped by Mila's manipulations. She could feel her own strength starting to fail. But, it did not yet stop her from fire stream.
"BE GONE!" She shouted. As the fire continued to jettison from her orb. She could feel that her own body was slowly starting to be consumed by flame. Burn! She took a deep breath. And felt deep throbbing pain. That snapped her out of the Volcannon's slight madness. Burn! No. No! Air! BREATHE! Fire needs oxygen! I.. need.. to.. Control! CONTROL! She toned her spell back, and eventually stopped firing the fire all together. She was gasping for air. She coughed and wheezed like someone who had been exposed to smoke. Her insides pulsed with pain as they expanded and contracted with each haggard breath. When it was all said and done. The bael was burned beyond recognition. Mila had a feeling it was not yet dead. Perhaps, knocked out? But, she had no dobut the injuries sustained would ensure it's slow and painful death. She scorched the mouth and face would prevent it from eating. Provided it didn't die from it's infections.
Mila wouldn't be awake enough to see the results of her actions. With the last of her energy spent she collapsed to the ground. When she woke she was among those who had retreated.
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Post by Althea on Apr 29, 2018 22:36:11 GMT -6
"Bluh," Althea commented articulately as pain and light, her two least favorite things, became her world once more. Was she - dead? - her eyes fluttered open, finding herself in the arms of an armored gentleman, and her mouth moved faster than her mental filter. "If heaven has you greeting people, they must be desperate indeed."
Hmm.
That sounded meaner than it had in her head.
"...Shoulda just let ya fall, princess," the man replied - middle aged, somewhere past his prime, her brain helpfully supplied as it continued to start working again - and jostled her a bit. The sensation was entirely unpleasant. "You ok in there or did you hit your head harder than usual?" She was having trouble focusing, enough so that the first half dozen unkind responses wandered off before she could vocalize them, and after a few moments of blinking Althea managed a small nod as she tried to find her balance without a great deal of success. Everything hurt. She probably should have left the big fancy light shows to Ereshkigal, but dammit she didn't want to just - rely on the daft spirit for everything.
The man looked at her, not unkindly, and half-smiled ruefully as he took in her appearance. "Don't s'pose you can pull that trick off about, uh, another half dozen times?" She looked blankly at him for a moment before realizing he was probably referencing the last magic cast - the reason she had been unconscious or senseless or whatever it was - and shook her head.
"Yeah. Didn't think so. Looks like it's time for us to skedaddle, little lady. Lot more a them little bastards swarming and I don't think there's many folks left as want to off themselves by standing around here." Without further ado he hoisted her over his shoulder like a lumpy potato and started moving, introducing the delirious mage to the wonders of staring down at the ground AND armor being very uncomfortable to lie on. "Try not to move around too much. And so help me if you start yappin' about mah armor being too hard... some of us aint lookin' to get impaled like you squishy types, you hear me?"
Not in much shape to argue with the conclusion, Althea imagined rebellious thoughts until consciousness fled her again. Uncertain how to react to her failure, the implications thereof, the reminder that no matter how much she had grown in recent times she was still far from all powerful. Thoughts for another time.
[Exit thread]
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Post by Vincent on May 1, 2018 21:46:19 GMT -6
Vincent's protests about fighting grew weaker as the internal and external damages he suffered continued to take their toll upon his body. It was unfortunate then that he never did lose consciousness despite the pain. There were three wagons that remained primed with horses to pull them at a moment's notice, these were for the wounded and the dead were left behind. Vincent was loaded into one of the wagons, or more tossed really by the men that dragged him away. He was hardly alone in the wagons as both Mila and Althea would be set inside. If anyone was well enough to walk they may by all means but no one was going to press the issue.
Vincent lay there in a corner of the wagon on the verge of unconsciousness but he could not fade away, he would not allow himself that luxury, that risk. 'You told me I needed your full power if we were to win. We lost anyway.' Vincent thought to Phoenix Heart.
'The toll against your body was far greater than I had predicted. I am sorry for that. The city is lost, yes, but take solace that you succeeded in saving those you fought for.'
'I did not fight just to save the women and children, I wanted to save the city, to show everyone this fight could be won... and now I am a failure, and a liar, they should spit at my feet.' Vincent retorted with a bitter argument as the wagon began to move. It moved quickly and the horses were soon pulling at top speeds. 'A Pyrrhic victory is not good enough.' Phoenix Heart did not refute him or speak further, his mind was made up over the fight.
The Bael swarm flooded the city with their young as the defenders fell back, the city could not be saved but not all was lost. Only the young baels not yet capable of breeding would move into the region. Two of the three grown baels lay dead and the Elder bael at the heart of the attack, yet alive, was burned and damaged to an extent it could not produce more offspring. Though wounded, a monster does not live long enough to be counted an elder, when so many warriors hunt them, for nothing, and it would remember the lick of the flames and the feeling of the woman that scorched it so.
As for the citizenry: when the defenders met with the evacuees there was a strained silence that needed no words, families and friends thanked the gods that be for those that returned to them or wept upon the road for their husbands and sons that no longer followed. Those with family in other regions of Lycia would eventually separate into their own groups with the rest traveling for the Tuscanan capital. Vincent opted to ride to the capital certain this would not be an isolated case and with hope that he could appeal to the nobility. The name of the Heelcutter meant something to many Sacaeans and others that defended Hero City, though a trifling of fame he hoped it might be enough to bend an ear.
On the road Vincent would hide his face and quiet his voice as he wept. He needed to be stronger, Lycia needed to be stronger, but most importantly, they needed to stand united.
[Feel free to do finishing stuff for your respective characters here for a final round]
[Exit Thread]
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Post by Mila on May 5, 2018 15:17:07 GMT -6
The sage had no idea what happened to her next. Somewhere in between her state of consciousness she felt someone grab her. Then there was a large blur in between. Then she remembered being thrown and hitting the floor of something hard. There were horses nearby, as she recognized that scent and neigh anywhere. Then there was more movement. At least she could feel the vibrations of movement, perhaps it was all the constant rocking of the wagon, or maybe due to the fact she was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from all the fighting. But, she felt really sick. And really warm, too warm.
The first few days after the attack were spent in a dreamy haze. A fog of sleep and fever dreams. Her body was still working off the secondary effects of the Volcannon tome. The last time this happened was during a raid on a bandit fort. She remembered feeling this unwell when she and Bee, used the full effects Volcannon to smother a potential forest fire. By the third day of recovery, she was up and running to some sort of extent. Her memory was incredibly fuzzy of all the events but she suspected that the memories of the battle would return to her in pieces. She'd also have to supplement some of her memories with witness testimonials. The nursemaid who attended her during her fever dreams directed her to who she had to talk to. The sage learned of the fate of the town and for the most part, she was bitter about the whole thing. In the back of her mind, she knew this was a lost fight but damn it, defeat still hurts. With some of her strength restored the sage set to work helping the refugees with what she could. A spare heal staff and basic knowledge of first aid went a long way with these poor broken folk. Chats with the leader helped some too. She copied as much information as she could into her notes and vowed to find a way to rid the world of these spiders. Okay, maybe not the whole world, but at the very least she vowed to one day get them their village back. She just needed time to think. Time to recover. Time to figure out the next steps. To figure out their movements and their entire arsenal. Time for stuff she couldn't think of at the moment.
As the group of survivors trailed off to parts and futures unknown, Mila decided it would be best if she headed southwards. She knew Badon was in that direction and there were several other territories along the way. Territories with less broken people and perhaps with resources to help her figure out what went wrong.
[exit thread]
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