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| Into The Depths; [Minor ST 3] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Wed Mar 15, 2017 11:02 am (2,485 Views) | |
| Ahkrum | Thu Mar 30, 2017 7:36 am Post #46 |
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Whatever it was that was lurking in the dark, it appeared that the group Ahkrum had joined held no interest in backing away from it. By the words of one member of their group it appeared that they were dealing with dark elves. Just shadowy figures against the dark as far as the fae was concerned, and dark elves were basically normal elves but they could see without light? It was something like that, the memory was vague and he was pretty sure that he was drunk when he learned it. The important thing was that this group, while appearing panicked, appeared to be of no immediate threat to their band. It was their panic that caused real worry for even the berserker. Though not ambushers or attackers, they were no mere wanderers either. They were running, and their predators had just caught up with them in the dark. It sounded like many, large-- well, many things were large to Ahkrum so maybe that did not mean much, but possibly dangerous to the large members of his own group. Ahkrum, however, was quite the opposite of any sort of physical description of large. Battle started quickly. Ahkrum readied to leap but had no reliable sight with which to pick his target. He drew his weapons, made sure the steel-strong strands spun from Danag were free from catching on anything, and an idea so simple and effective was one of few reliable lights in this underworld. "L'akolb. Hunt!" He commanded sharply to his beast, and the spider obliged. The arachnid took only a moment to prepare itself before launching forward in the dark at an unfortunate human-sized prey. Ahkrum's boots allowed him to stay upon his riding beast's back without worry. L'akolb leaped, putting the full force of its weight behind its strike as acidic venom splashed against the quickly timed defense of a leading lizard man. It hissed, trying to get at its prey, but the reptilian held its ground. Perhaps it would have lasted for only a moment before the strength and agility was found to escape the threat of the sizable arachnid, but no such chance was afforded. Ahkrum began his ascent when L'akolb came to its stop, that rage he had been saving up a mere trifling annoyance compared to having to wait to slaughter a natural enemy for hours at a time, but still more than enough. That fury built up inside of his chest and came roaring from his mouth, a sound more fierce than his size might lead people to believe. He leapt from the back of his riding spider and in the direction of the foe, completely missing the buckler that the fangs of the arachnid were trying to get through. For a moment he wondered if he missed, but then he found himself colliding with a scaly form, cool to the touch, the edges of his weapon sunk into a panicking reptilian face. The enemy, already in a mix of adrenaline-fueled emotions and now confused as to what the tiny thing that had just attached itself to its face was doing. There was only a moment to consider and to fear. Size meant nothing to Ahkrum as he hooked Evilstitch into the scales and brought back Pixie Eater, a large windup for a powerful blow, but when it landed the feeling of such incredible impact in such a small area most have been purely shocking. The head recoiled, whipping back with Ahkrum still attached. The clawed feet of the reptilian enemy gave out between the force of the strike and the spider trying to eat it, and the foe fell to the ground, stunned, shocked, hurting, and soon to be food for the spider as it wasted no time maneuvering those fangs to exposed scales. Equally, Ahkrum wasted no time. He freed his weapons from the fallen enemy and kicked off of his face with another impactful blow, swinging his corded weapons wide as he probed the darkness for the next unfortunate victim to his wrath. It was Pixie Eater that responded when he pulled both weapons back towards himself, and instead the force of his pull launched him at another enemy whose balance was offset by the sudden tiny yet powerful pull, followed shortly by a swift and strong kick to the head from a tiny boot. The fae would repeat this process as much as needed, reeling in his weapons, launching from enemies, and swinging for new ones until he inevitably missed everything completely and hit the ground. ooc
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| Hearne | Thu Mar 30, 2017 12:33 pm Post #47 |
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Instead of the aggression he had expected, his blanketing spell found no purchase. Finding these drow to only be frightened, his humming began to wind down, voices dropping off the harmony. He continued the tone with a single voice. And then their pursuers arrived. Hearne's single masked eye flicked from wall to wall, the concentric and intricately runed rings flitting everywhere but at his foes. His single humming voice slowed and quieted, finishing on a morose note. And then he picked up the song. Verses were in an archaic form of Celestial, beautifully blending and involving the note of the words as much as the worda themselves. His single voice carried clear and sharp in the cavern, reverberations coming back in a natural echoing chorus. Additional voices began chiming in, an additional six perfectly meshing from within his robes. The air became charged, small rifts opening around them and new voices joined in. Behind his back a great vertical golden mandala halo sprung into being, casting light all around him. The chorus hammered the foe home, the crowd of many voices united. The resonance of the Celestial chorus shook the ground, fragile objects shattering violently. He brought the song down on the host of enemies, an epic fitting historical battles. The spell carried on while his song approached a new verse. The holy magic in the air near him grew from a tingle to an almost tangible feeling, reinforced and becoming sanctified as he built an area around him hostile to foes, assaulting all that entered but his allies and the drow who fought with them. OOC
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| Lorica | Thu Mar 30, 2017 3:18 pm Post #48 |
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Lorica reached the campsite in good time, moving at nearly double the pace of her earlier investigation. She tiptoed around her traps before drawing to a halt, frowning at the unexpected crowd. There was a group of dark elves here now, blathering on in broken Common. One of them saw her and started to jabber about disturbing someone's sign. She raised her dagger, pointing it at the drow before he could come close enough to be a threat. "Uh, that's nice, but who the [removed] are you?" She glanced around at her companions, scowling. "When did we adopt a bunch of dark elves? I was gone for like thirty minutes, people. What the hell happened?" Apparently she put her traps down in the wrong place, because just then a crowd of decidedly unfriendly looking people emerged from a different path and rushed at the campsite. The Keeper pushed the mystery of the drow out of her mind, dropping both the teleportation dagger and the grisly tripod. She replaced them with a pair of identical knives from her bandoleer, the steel etched with curling vines. "Seriously! Thirty [removed]ing minutes unsupervised and it all goes to shit!" With that admonishment she threw both of the knives towards the horde approaching across the bridge. For a moment it looked as if she had missed, the blades striking the ground a good dozen feet in front of the first ranks. Then they sprouted into a wall of hedges, thick vines with stony bark twisting and tangling together to form a barrier twenty feet wide (she didn't have the time to gauge the width of the bridge better than that). Kalim had the same idea and used a massive crossbow to set up another layer of defense, hopefully keeping the reinforcements in check for long enough to deal with the vanguard. At a glance, the saurians looked like formidable enemies. Their figures were thick with muscle and covered in a layer of tough scales, not to mention the spears and shields they carried. She followed close on Kalim's heels as he advanced, drawing a pair of heavier blades from her belt. She side-stepped the Istani sellsword to engage a reptile and keep him from getting flanked. The creature snarled at her in raw rage, jabbing at her with its odd spear. Lorica caught the shaft of the polearm on her bolo, forcing it aside. At the same time she brought down the machete, slamming it into the reptile's buckler. The shield crumpled underneath the force of the blow, warped metal pressing into the saurian's flesh. For a heartbeat it was taken off-guard by the impotence of its defenses, and in that moment she struck. The hum from the bolo's vibrations changed in pitch as she stabbed it into the reptile's back just above its tail, giving the weapon a cruel twist to try and cleave its spine. Unfortunately, that left defenseless for a second. Another enemy lunged forward with its spear. She managed to lop off the head of it with the machete, but getting whacked with the shaft still hurt. She grunted and slid back a step, ribs aching in protest. The reptile pressed its advantage, forgoing the broken spear and snapping at her with its jaws. They closed around her forearm and met metal, striking the hidden blades she kept stored up her sleeve. There was a sting as a few of its sharp teeth found gaps between the knives, managing to score her skin. Lorica grimaced and drew back the machete to cave in its skull when the fabric of her sleeve bulged, something pushing at it from within. The leather ripped, a streak of black lancing out of the rend to stab into the saurian's eye. It released its grip on her arm to howl and fall back, clutching at the gaping socket. The needle-like spike splintered as it pulled away, leaving a barbed shard protruding from its skull. A surge of manic, uncontrollable fury swept through her mind... along with fear. No! I didn't call on you! She clamped down on that emotion, reining it in. For a moment her eyes crawled with inky thorns, threatening to drown her in a sea of unending rage. The pain of a spearhead slicing across the back of her shoulder drew her back into reality. She turned and slashed blindly at the reptile responsible, who effortlessly blocked the strike with its buckler. Lorica activated the enchantment on her teleportation dagger, vanishing and reappearing back in the center of the camp, outside of the range of the enemies. Before the saurian could realize what she'd done she hurled another dagger at his back, this one designed to shred any living tissue it touched. Lorica only took a moment to assess the wound and determine it wasn't crippling. Then she launched herself back into the fray, knocking aside a spear meant to spit Kalim. "I got your back, Sandy," she said with a crooked grin. Abilities and Knives
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| Mistalee | Thu Mar 30, 2017 3:41 pm Post #49 |
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Relief washed over her as the drow indeed seemed to desire no conflict with them. That quickly turned to annoyance and anger as her companion tried, yet somehow failed to attack. She glared at them and was about to say something, but instead got interrupted when a new group arrived to their little camp site. This one intent on their demise. She utter a curse under her breath before shadow shifting farther back to give her more time to shoot arrows before enemies descended upon her. As she appeared into her new location an arrow was already upon her bow string and she let it fly at the first attacker to get into range. She called out the the injured drow. "If you can defend yourself s then do so! If not, get out of harms way until we have finished them off!" The next arrow she let fly would help thin the crowd a bit more. A golden arrow, that once it struck its target caused lightening to arc between several foes. She was hoping to go for the ones who appeared to be leading the group, but she needed to help take care of the first rush before they got overwhelmed. She let arrow after arrow fly through the air, doing anything she could to thin or slow the ranks of their attackers. Should an opportunity arise to send and arrow or two at the leaders, she would not hesitate to take it. Spoiler: click to toggle
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| Lachesis[ST] | Thu Mar 30, 2017 8:36 pm Post #50 |
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The horde comes. Keail starts forward to join the thick of the fray before it even arrives on your proverbial shore, and a restraining hand from taeral brings him short and bout. 'Let me go, Taeral, you can't protect me for everything." he snapped at the older man and jerked away. The large weapon went back onto his back and instead he drew the shorter blade. What he intended was finesse, of course. Unseen by the young Dal'mar, Taeral followed, motioning for the others to spread out. He exchanged several gestures with his hands, and the other two nodded grimly. Lorica, your barrier goes up across the gap, nicely sealing off this avenue of approach fro the enemy. Unfortunately, you do not get it off quickly enough to prevent a dozen of the human foes from crossed the bridge onto the parties' own side, and that and another dozen and a half of the lizard creatures leaping the voice and bypassing the bridge entirely. Kalim, your action to further block the passage results in several attackers screeching in horror, rattling off their uninteligable language as they plummet to their deaths far, far below. Their primary avenue of assault blocked, several of the people at the back of the crowd shriek in rage. You have stemmed the main force from reaching the party. What has managed to cross the gap is still terrifying enough. The lizards wear light armor, but their hide acts as a heavier armor than the leather they wear over their flesh. And they can, in short bursts, move faster than can even be believed. Their skill with the weapons they wield is admirable, but you are veterans of many such fights. Volare, Shirine, your actions work marvelously well. These enemies do not seem to fight in a unified manner at all, coming at you individually. Any occurrence where more than one faces you is mere happenstance; this is not a cohesive unit. You cleave through several of them. Unfortunately, your own battlecries seem to have a diminished effect on the morale of the enemies you face,, Ahkrum and Kalim. Several of them miss a step in reaction to your ferocity, but it is you who have invaded their territory and their more base instincts are in full control right now. Kalim, you succeed in knocking one into the abyss, although your assurance that their anatomy is the same as a humans is quickly disabused when the beast you smack with bone-creaking force expels a violent gust of foul breath into your face before flaying backwards into several humans making their way forward, stabbing and slashing. The beast rolls to a halt, and then gets up on unsteady legs. Tyrist catches it as it starts to scrabble dazedly for its weapon, the great weapon in his hand shearing off the top of the beasts head as he passed, dancing around a pair of spears being leveled at his gut by some of the rabid-faced humans. He winks at you before turning to face the new opponents, blade a blur amid the clack of steel against whatever material those weapons are made from. Ahkrum, they don't even know where to begin with you. Your tiny, furious form catches them off guard, and they seem unable to comprehend how something so small is so terrifyingly strong. Once you have dropped one, it is almost like you cease to exist, and are free to select the next target. The two leaders beyond the bridge speak in their foreign, guttural language in an almost conversational tone, and it isn't clear whether they are talking to their units nearby, or something else. They are still grinning like madmen, but it is difficult to tell if they could do anything otherwise, given the shape of their mouths. With a grunt, one of them points at you Kalim, and raises a spear. And then both of them charged the gap, and leapt over it in a graceful arc. Behind them, the remaining enemies fell back into the tunnel, suddenly silent and intent. Hearne, the first leader lands next to you even as Mistalee fires her golden arrow, and that arrow strikes it as it gains its balance. Lightning arcs, and crawls all over the black material of its armor before arcing out to strike several of the other attackers, mostly humans, These shriek in pain as they drop, stunned momentarily. The spears in their hands, and that of the veteran before you, begins to glow faintly. Mistalee, like the sniper you are, you snuff out all of the ones struck by your golden arrow before they can rise again Your missile attacks, however, bounce harmlessly off of the greater warrior. Even as they fall, though, the reater beast goes after you, Hearne. As he steps into the field of effect of your spell, his spears glow a little brighter, and his grin widens more. It appears to notice your Celestial Choir as much as it would a fly bite, although its flesh begins to redden as it takes damage from yoru other abilities, although it seems more a nuisance than a deterrent. The drow are fighting in your midst as well, but they are faring far more poorly. They appear to have been equipped for nothing more than a raid, and as such they wear light armor that was already damaged, and carry light weapon. Although certainly capable of casting great magic, they refrain from doing so and instead use such weapons as they have. Several of them go down almost immediately, too weary from their run and fighting. The Dal'mar dance their own dance, and it is one of death. They seem to refrain from using magic, instead relying on awesome skill with the weapons in their hands. keail contemptuously turns and attack before cleaving through an enemy, blade shattering collarbone and erupting from the chest, before dancing away from a spear thrust that is knocked aside by Taeral. Keail seems to not even notice the Dal'mar captain covering his back, and in truth the captain turns more attacks away than Keail himself does. The price for watching over the younger warrior is telling - Taeral has already suffered numerous wounds. Tyrist continues to fight towards the front alongside the rest of you, easily keeping out of your way and diving in to grant assistance or, when the opportunity presents itself, carving a bloody path of wreckage all his own. The weapon in his hand seems to do somethign to the enemies spears, for when he strikes the same weapons you all do, they grow...somehow dull, and lifeless in the foes hands. "Look out behind you!" Zilyana is the one that shouts as the other of the two leaders lands in the midst of this mess. Lorica, you are nearby, and can watch as that massive saurian urls the spear in its hands with all of its tremendous weight and impetus from the jump. It sails straight at Keail. "No!" The shout is from Taeral, and strangled. Somehow, the man manages to leap into the space between Keail and the Saurian, horror on his face as they fell weapon strikes him with enough force to impale hime halfway up the haft. Its even strong enough to defeat his own impetus, sending him at an awkward angle to his original leap. The Dal'mar captain slides to a halt, transfixed through the chest, and does not move. Several of the drow move to attack the nameless leader, and he casually brushes them aside like they are nothing, even sending one of them tumbling so hard that the snap of bones is clearly heard. The great beast takes another spear from its back, and advances. Lorica, you have just finished your own dance, and are now readying for the next wave from the greatly diminished enemy. Before you can move, another shape darts in alongside you. It is another saurian, but this beast is wearing plate male that looks custom fitted to it, although it wields the same spears as the others do. "Do not rest, fight!" it growls in passable common, if a bit rough, and immediately skewers one of its kinfolk after batting aside their spear with its own buckler. The leaders are in your midst, but the tide is turning aside from that minor detail. What do you do?
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| Mistalee | Sat Apr 1, 2017 3:30 pm Post #51 |
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There was nothing she could do as she watched the spear sail towards Keail...only to be intercepted by Taeral. She wanted to scream out, but for now grit her teeth and focused her rage towards the enemy. There would be time to mourn the loss, after they survived this fight. Her arrows had seemed to have little effect on the leaders before. But she had more in her arsenal than just wood and steel tipped arrows. She notched an arrow and let it fly at the bastard who had just killed her ally. She knew the arrow would bounce off harmlessly, but damaging the creature was not the purposed. She was seeking to take down whatever protection it had that was preventing her arrows for sinking in. Her next arrow she handled with care as she placed it upon her string. Again she let it fly at the same enemy. Hoping that its acidic properties would do some serious damage. While she put her main focus on one of the leaders for the time being, she still tried to watch the main force as well. Sending an arrow towards any enemies that got to close to herself or her allies. She especially was trying to keep Keail safe, know that he likely would not be in his right mind right now... Spoiler: click to toggle |
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| Lorica | Sat Apr 1, 2017 10:47 pm Post #52 |
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Lorica jerked her head back to avoid a spearpoint gouging out her eye. It opened a red line across her cheek instead, blood dribbling down her jawline to drip off her chin. She crossed her blades and caught the haft of the spear between them before it could be withdrawn, lowering her shoulder and ramming it into the lizard's jaw. Its teeth snapped together with a loud clack as it stumbled back, giving her a few bare moments to recover. There was a flash of movement in her peripheral vision. Lorica spun and nearly took the head off of the new saurian. She adjusted her aim at the last second, the bolo passing over its head instead of cleaving its skull in two. Her mercy was immediately reqarded as the reptile attacked one of its own kind, wielding the same odd spear that had killed the Dal'mar captain. "I swear we keep picking up strays," she growled. "And who's resting? Do you not see me fighting? Are you blind as well as ugly?" Talking out loud always helped her think. Quite a lot had happened in a short amount of time. Perhaps most interesting was how the Dal'mar captain had sacrificed himself to save the young elf's life. There was no other way to describe what had happened. Lorica stepped forward, blocking another spear jab and shouting over her shoulder. "Keep the useless one out of the way!" She yelled at Zilyana, indicating Keail with one of her blades. "We aren't babysitters!" Hopefully they'd listen. Now for the more serious problem: the leaders of the raiding party. They'd cut through most of the drow with little issue, grinning like madmen. It didn't take a genius to notice that their weapons absorbed magical energy, which meant all of their spellcasters were effectively useless against them. That meant a melee fighter would need to tangle with them. Three guesses who the lucky winner will be... The Keeper scowled, but there was no time for regrets or more intricate tactics. She sheathed the vibrating bolo, suspecting that it would only make her fight with the raid leader more difficult. "Sandy! I'd appreciate if you keep the little ones off my back!" Then she was charging across the battleground. More of the frenzied saurians were between her and the nearest leader. Lorica paid them no mind, hoping that Kalim would be able to keep them from flanking her. She leapt up, soaring impossibly high through the air, over the head of most of the horde and coming to rolling stop in front of the big guy. Lorica flashed him a wide, toothy smile that didn't reach her eyes. They gleamed with cold calculation. "Boo." She closed the distance to the man as fast as she could, getting in close enough that it should be more difficult for her foe to use his short spear. The machete darted out, aimed not at his skin but rather at the straps holding the dark armor on, trying to sever the cords and straps that held it to his skin. Hopefully she could remove the protective layer before Mistalee fired off her arrows. Regardless of her success in stripping him of the armor she would then feint at his head, hopefully drawing up his defenses. Her free hand found the hilt of a blade sheathed at her hip, one loaded into a special scabbard. She tripped the latch of the sheathe with her thumb, activating the hidden mechanisms. The knife practically flew out of the container, a blur of emerald-mottled steel. The combat knife was infused with a natural poison that would cause her target some serious pain if it connected. Additionally, the extra force from the scabbard should allow it to punch through all but the strongest armor. Lorica aimed the enhanced thrust at the center of the saurian's chest in the hopes that any bipedal creature kept something important to staying alive in that location. Abilities & Knives
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| Leyanni[Adm] | Sun Apr 2, 2017 12:42 am Post #53 |
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Kagiso slung her flaming weapon back into her coat. There were too many vulnerable, squishy mortals about for her to simply immolate their enemies and expect anyone else to survive the minor hazards of smoke and flames in a cave. In a blur, she transferred from the floor to the cave ceiling. Her hands clung and she swung her body upwards. The balls of her feet landed and she quickly twisted about to face her foes. She shouldered her crossbow while upside down. Her cape fell low, revealing the rows and rows of ammunition strapped to her body, the dangerous tank on her back and the massive weapon strapped beside it. Kagiso rammed the bolt back on the weapon, removed the quarrel box from the base of the weapon and switched in a strange black object. Her eyes snapped across the field. She pulled the trigger back. A countdown appeared on her vision. Time until the next quarrel. It looked like a simple action when she swept her weapon across the field. The results were in the form of a rain of bolts, three of each directed at each foe. Her allies were of in no threat of being struck due to her uncanny skill with her weapon. She pushed the bolt forward and removed the strange box. It disappeared into one of her many pockets. Blue mist poured from the vent stacks on her back. No time to die like today!
Edited by Leyanni, Sun Apr 2, 2017 12:46 am.
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| Hearne | Sun Apr 2, 2017 1:10 am Post #54 |
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Hearne rose to his full height in the face of the creature facing him, seeing the magic soaking into the spear. It appeared to be sapping magic from effects that touched it. A curious working. One he would definitely need to investigate further. His song reached a crescendo before falling back, smoothly stepping backwards from the great beast advancing on him. Beneath his mask Hearne had no mouth to smile with, no expression evident. The slight skip in his step as he backed away was the only visible tell of his mood. The song continued from within the robed figure as he planted his feet, lifting both palms upward at his sides. The energies roiling off his form expanded greatly, filling a ten foot radius around him. The energy seemed to be eminating from the great halo at his back, runes turning clockwise within the bands of energy and glowing ever brighter. Swathed in holy energies, the air around him glowing brightly, he was nearly blinding to look upon. "Bend knee and beg forgiveness, Saurian, and your fate will be merciful." He quested out with his mind, wrapping himself around the creature's mind and pressing a storm of mental probes against it. "I can show you paradise, or I can show you the future that awaits those who stand against." He swarmed the creature's mind and showed it the various forks its future could take. Every fragment of Hearne's mind sent its own series of visions and images, forcing the possibilities of futures upon the Saurian's mind. Visions of paradises and hells. Standing at his side with a badge on his breast and pride in his bearing. He showed it its own corpse filled with arrows, one where it was merely a charred husk. These visions were overlayed with songs and screams, hundreds of angles of mental attack pressed in at the same time, forcing it to acknowledge each at once. While he stood his ground and pressed the attack, one hand plucked the cap from a brass tube on his bandolier, pulling free one of his short scrolls and clenching it in his fist. Baby
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| Ahkrum | Sun Apr 2, 2017 8:56 am Post #55 |
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Light. Tactically advantageous in the dark underworld, even if only limited by the head of the person it belonged to. It was strange, but not nearly strange enough to distract Ahkrum from glorious violence. With it to his aid, he no longer had to blindly probe the air with his weapons, fishing for an enemy that he could really sink their edges into. There appeared to be different classifications to them, some clearly more dangerous than others. Reptilians who appeared the most dangerous of the enemy force, humans that were considerably less so, and a couple of dark-armored foes. Allies were scattered about, things were chaotic, and the fae glanced back only to see L'akolb feasting on the face of a fast-dying reptilian, their first target in this encounter. He had suspected as much, but even just a flash of confirmation made him feel a bit right with the world. Ahkrum cast out Evilstitch and the hooked weapon found its way into the flesh of a human fodder. When he pulled on the thread with his relatively incredible might, the poor man could hardly keep his footing. It was almost odd to feel sorry for the enemy, but such feelings were fleeting as Ahkrum landed on his head with the added force of a powerful kick. The fae sunk into his target's skull, the brain matter a slight cushion, and forced his way out as his black eyes searched for the next target. It only made sense that if he could know the satisfaction of crushing the heads of pixies beneath his boots that humans would simply be a larger version of that. The body seemed desperate to cling to life, but failed quickly as the killer took a moment to gauge a proper next target without second thought to the quivering of the near-corpse. Ahkrum glanced back at L'akolb, its snack's fighting back coming to an end. With his battle beast freed from the rigors of consumption, its master called out, "L'akolb! Man meat!" The spider stopped its feasting and its eyes though stationary seemed to fix on a human, understanding the order and reacting as quickly as it could. L'akolb leapt forth, spider silk trailing behind, an anchor to where it was as it managed to bring down the mortal man before he had time to properly prepare for the horror he realized was coming. The Hagaan had found his next target, an unaware bipedal reptilian, its lizard eyes focused forward at what it believed to be threats, not yet aware that there remained a dangerous enemy unseen due to stature. The berserker leapt up and forward towards his next target, casting out Pixie Eater to sink into and hook to scales, perhaps minor damage at first but this was merely tactile re-positioning. Before the axe found flesh, a bolt found the opposing shoulder of the reptile. Quickly the shield of the creature went up in a panicked response, but it was too late for Ahkrum to change his mind about the target. With a tug, Ahkrum approached his foe, the lizard reacted quickly and strongly, keeping its balance and the shield above as its gaze shifted to the small figure fast approaching. Ahkrum impacted the lizard's arm, causing it to stumble slightly the opposite direction, but still it held fast and ready. Not knowing what was happening, the fae ducked below the head of the lizard, beneath its shield, and carved out its wind pipe with Evilstitch. A good idea or a bad one? Panic caused the otherwise stalwart being to react as one would expect a creature currently between gasping for air and drowning in its own blood to behave, the shield quickly being forsaken and cast toe the ground for the clawed hands to try sealing the wound. "L'akolb! Cover!" Ahkrum essentially fell after the shield, hitting the ground next to it and just happening to roll beneath it for cover from the underground rain. He did not know that he was not threatened by the assault, but it was so sudden and unannounced that he had to treat it like a threat to his well-being, as well. Fortunately despite the spider's confusion at the bolts being cast down, it was in no danger. ooc
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| Kalim | Sun Apr 2, 2017 10:00 am Post #56 |
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He gave a quick nod of thanks as Lorica joined the fight. With her at his side, his slow but forced retreat was halted, and he stood his ground against their foes. His initial assault had been effective, but the lizards were tougher than he had anticipated. He held his sword in both hands now, taking measured, careful strikes as he worked the enemy's spears and shields in an effort to open them up. Briefly, he realized she had disappeared, but soon enough she was back again, deflecting an attack that he had barely noticed for concentrating on other foes. Every now and then, as he shifted around, he caught glimpes of the others in battle. Nearby, the area seemed to glow around the hooded singing man. He noted the odd effect that Tyrist's weapon seemed to have on the spears of the enemies bearing their strange glowing attribute. Confidence renewed, he pressed the attack, swinging his blade in a brutal exchange that finally resulted in him stepping forward past the lizard's effective range and ramming his buckler into it's face. A shockwave burst forth from the shield, throwing it back a few paces. Kalim followed with a powerful two-handed slash at it's neck. The blade cleaved through a third of it's flesh before being halted. He withdrew his weapon and spun as there was a recognizable shout from behind. The lizard collapsed, oozing it's blood from the grotesque wound. The enemy leaders had arrived. One had landed near the hooded singing man, the other, much closer to where he and Lorica were fighting. It hurled it's spear, the weapon flying towards where two of the Dal'mar were fighting. The mercenary watched it's flight, identified the target, saw the sacrifice. "Tch!" Kalim gripped his sword tightly. Taeral fell under the power behind the weapon. For a few moments, the mercenary mentally kicked at himself, trying to stir up the anger that would give him power, to direct his wrath at their enemies. He couldn't. He simply hadn't had enough time to learn the captain's true character, to really feel anything for his fall. If anything, he only felt regret. He took a step forward, glaring at the armored beast. Another of it's minion's appeared nearby. He ignored it. Then it stabbed one of it's kin. His head snapped towards it. It was closer to Lorica, but it wasn't attacking her, and she seemed inclined to leave it alone herself. He grunted, and at his ally's request he gave another wordless nod without hesitation. She had already helped him once, and she had proven that she was a capable fighter. He was more than willing to help. As she ran, he kept close behind her, his sword held in his right hand so he could more effectively wield his buckler. He was caught off guard when she jumped over the foes separating them from their target, but he didn't slow down, swinging his sword wildly at anyone foolish enough to get close to him. He made no attempt to directly engage any of them, instead narrowly dodging the occasional spear thrust as he broke through. Perhaps she had only hoped he would slow them down, but he didn't like leaving favors unpaid. He kept running and spun a few feet from Lorica's turned back, his buckler and sword raised as his eyes jerked back and forth for approaching threats. Bolts were raining down on their foes now. He didn't have time to search for their source, but he felt that he had a pretty good idea. Somewhat bemusedly, he realized that his effort might have been wasted, but it didn't stop him from standing solid, devoted to turning away any blades that might come at the woman as she launched her attack. Can't all be heroes
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Sun Apr 2, 2017 5:10 pm Post #57 |
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Shirine got a message from her scouts. She didn't have time to respond much besides ordering them quickly, "Continue forward for now and be ready to fight." She then yelled to the others in the group. "Watch out that prisoner escaped and is really strong! Probably a VIP! She might be coming behind us in this mess!" She had been killing the enemy with Volare, but had backed off for a few minutes to relay the information while Volare covered her for a bit. She didn't stop fighting, but she was a bit distracted for a few moments. Still it gave her time to observe a bit more and she saw that the leaders had made their move. One went for Hearne. She thought he could handle himself. He had proven to be a strong person before. No the greater issues was the one who just took out the Dal'mar captain. She spoke to Volare, "Cover and join me. We need to focus on those leaders. Hopefully the enemy will break with them gone." She focused drawing more energy from her were body, drawing it out to it's full potential. She slashed a human taking him out of the way and then focused on increasing her leg's power even more for a short time as she charged through towards the leader who had killed or seriously wounded the Dal'mar captain. On the way she also started glowing as her lunar aura formed and she launched a burst of gravity at the creature's weapon to try and disarm it. Reaching the creature she would do some attempt to dodge, but taking some hit on her armor or even taking a minor wound was acceptable if she could land a good solid hit. She would use the full force of the charge to slam her blade into the enemy. If her gravity power had been effective in disarming it earlier she would also create a lesser shift in gravity just before her blade hit giving it even more power as it swung into the creature. She was okay if the blade got stuck or even if it got deflected some how, as she planed on letting go and launching her self onto the creature with claws and fangs enhanced by moonlight energy. Her claws were strong against most armors when enhanced and at the least would give her purchase to clime towards the unarmed face which she intend to claw apart if she could reach it. At the very least she could grapple a limb and leave it open for Volare or one of their enemies to strike in a fatal blow. At least that was the plan. Spoiler: click to toggle
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| Volare | Sun Apr 2, 2017 5:48 pm Post #58 |
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As excellent a team as Shirine and Volare were, Volare was able to slip in easily to cover her partner when Shirine had to draw back. The shout rose over the clamour, and although she did not respond - she was busy polishing off another of the lizard-folk - she kept it in her mind. She whirled away from the falling corpse just in time to see one of the Dal’mar flying backward with a spear in his chest. ”Useless,” she muttered. Shirine spoke again, stating the obvious logical conclusion: cut off the head, so to speak, and the body would fall. She nodded and followed Shirine. If they were going up against one of the leaders, the time for control was well past. She sheathed Ivyn’s Ire - no time to clean the blade; she would have to do that later - and let go of the more civilized instincts of her fae mind. She tapped into the ferocity inside her, the full power of her were body. She felt her strength increase tenfold as she moved, and she seemed to move faster and faster until she was almost a blur even to the trained eye; her steel-hard, razor-sharp claws came out of their natural sheaths, and her teeth seemed to gain a certain gleam as her cowl fell into position more as a scarf. There was a wildness in her eyes, and she let out an unearthly scream of feline rage that echoed off of the walls. The next thing that anyone might have seen when looking upon Volare and Shirine was a massive wereleopard tearing through the ranks of lizard-folk and humans alike, ripping to shreds anyone that got near her - anyone except Shirine. By scent and by sight, by the sound of her skin and fur and muscles shifting, by memory - Shirine remained unscathed by the brutal, vicious assault. Blood flew through the air, and screams of agony were drowned out by the inhuman, animalistic calls of fury emitting from Volare’s throat. But right now, she was barely Volare at all. She was a tremendous font of animalistic fury, her rage unequaled by the pitiful attacks of the humans and lizard-folk alike. And when she drew near to the battle between Shirine and the lizard-folk leader, she leapt high into the air with a war cry, coming down upon the poor dumb lizard from behind with the full force of her body and the full lethality of her claws and teeth. She ripped into him with everything she had, and that was quite a lot. The moment Shirine gave her an opening, too, Volare struck it hard and fast. There was nothing to stop her, nothing to stand in her way. She worked in tandem with Shirine - the weretiger’s skill and power melding fluidly with the untamed rage of the werefeline queendom. OOC
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| Lachesis[ST] | Mon Apr 3, 2017 12:50 am Post #59 |
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Everyone: War is hell, and you are something that the Kobrahl did not expect at all. Their tactics are so slipshod that even with overwhelming numbers it is a simple war of attrition. But that would be against anyone else. Not you. Kagiso sails to the ceiling in a solid burst of speed, and then hangs there, limbering up and bringing out her favored weapon. Kagiso by herself could probably stand against armies, and she lets the enemy know she is there with a withering hail of crossbow bolts. Kalim and Ahrkum, you tear into enemies, and you in particular keep your ally safe, Kalim. But suddenly there are so few enemies left to fight; the expert marksman in her high place has an unprecedented command of the field, and if many of her bolts don't score shots to the head, most of them do. The field of enemies is reduced to a handful as quickly as that. You go to mop up the last. Kagiso, despite your best efforts, the big saurians are beyond your ability to deliver a killing blow. Your bolts damage their armor where they strike, but fail to penetrate. The material of that armor is indeed as hard as steel, but it is tempered too hard. Radiating cracks spread from where the bolts struck. The great saurian that had initially approached Hearne snaps its head up at you, Kagiso, and readies its spear. Just before it can release, though, even as it grumbles something in its thick tongue, Lorica dashes in. Her initial attack manages to throw it off just as it launches that great weapon skyward, and instead of hitting you, Kagiso, it veers off fifteen feet to your left. The thing glows brightly as it sails through the air, growing brighter as it goes. And when it strikes, all of the mana stored within it bursts, and the spear itself shatters into a thousand pieces with a hollow boom. Pieces of the ceiling blast outward, raining down on all of the combatants below. The saurians body armor falls off with a hollow clang, in two pieces. Lorica has scored her first strike, even as the things takes a step forward with its bare, clawed hands. And steps into Hearne's field of fire. A shaft of brilliant white light launches itself at the beast, scoring a hit to its face. The smell of burnign flesh suddenly is strong, and the thing staggers back with one clawed hand to its face, howling imprecations in its language as it does so. The effect of your next attack is absolutely moot, Hearne; just as you brush the creatures mind, Lorica drives her weapon into the beasts chest, snapping bone and scoring a hit on both of the things lungs. Its final cry ends in a wash of bright blood that sprays over both of you and anyone else nearby as the thing reels backwards. The other one laughs cruelly as Mistalee's first arrow strikes it, harmlessly deflecting it as if it was nothing. It also laughs off the second one, even though the material that arrow is coated in strikes flesh. Its still laughing as the poison takes hold. It grunts, but does not appear markedly slowed by the poison. The three remaining Dal'mar are dealing with the few stragglers that remain. Despite his youth, Keail fights with the same fluid ease, although the great weapon in his hands seems strangely awkward. The feral roar of Volare brings up the last Saurian, who turns to face this rabid beast slashing through the last of the standing fodder. Shirine reaches it first, though. The spear in its hand suddenly tears from its fingers, taking skin with it as it did so. The beast seems confused for a moment as to which threat to face, but finally whirls to face you, Shirine. As you close, slashing with your sword, it dodges the attack with some difficulty, surprised at the reduction in its own reflexes. It doesn't matter, your blade is deflected from the armor it wears with a glass-like ring. You step in closer, claws of light piercing its armor (Mistalee has canceled the strong magical resistance effect from it), latching into the tough leather of its hide. Your assault is haulted there, though, as it reaches out and grasps you by the back of the neck and, without any ceremony at all, tosses you at incredible speed towards one of the silent buildings. But you provide distraction for the mobile shredder coming up from behind. Volare has slain every single opponent on the way here, and although that is not as many as before Kagiso's deadly hail, its still a few. Volare, you leap up onto the beasts' back, putting you within easy reach of the back of its neck. Your added weight doesn't even seem to phase the savage beast, but your teeth through its spine cuts it off just as it is trying to reach behind and do the same to you as it had done to Shirine. "What a pile of worthless wretches," says the saurian who had come in near Lorica in the middle of the fray. It seems to have nothing else to offer. "Such superb skill," the same saurian says a little later, after people have seen to their injuries. The beast eyes all of you, its strange spear grounded. Its armor of overlapping plates, all of the same material that the great saurians had worn and yet...with a slightly different luster and sheen to it. Its voice is clipped and short, with just a hint of accent unknown to all of you. It gives a wide grin at all of you, though it is questionable whether it can give anything except a grin. "We had heard from the others that there were great warriors among the Light-Blinded, but did not know for truth. Not many come deep." Keail looks at the fanged creature with a sour expression. He has his helmet off now, or the first time since the start of this mission. Unusual for an elf, he has dark hair that is bound into a thick rope that disappears beneath his other armor. His features are indeed young; right now, that fair face is made ugly by anger. He makes a gesture back to the fallen Dal'mar, his weapon stripped and added to the back of Tyrist. That worthy is looking upon his captain with a distant look. "Where are the rest of you?" the young Dal'mar asks the saurian in an accusing voice. "Who are you? Where is the Captain at?" The saurian looks at the young man with a level, inscrutable gaze. And then turns its head to one side and spits. "Dead, you little sod. You can call my Throatslitter, Thats the name I earned in service to your damned wet little kingdom, though why I should have bothered serving such self-entitled idiots is beyond me. Especially since it was your lot that started this whole mess in the first place." Zilyana snorted. "We started it? Its not our fault we were betrayed by your kinfolk. You should not be so hard of Keail, Throatslitter." She paused, and cocked her head to one side. "I remember you. You were in charge of the Cellar, weren't you?" The saurian looked between Zilyana and Keail several times, before laughing. "So thats the game you play right now, is it? I suppose none of these 'useful idiots' know exactly what they have got themselves into, have they?" The saurian advanced on the woman, spear in hand as if he might decide to use it. "We don't go into your accursed world of light for good reason, sun-spawn." The term had the taste and feel of a particularly nasty insult. "If you lot could be up front about things, you wouldn't find yourself in this mess. I rather reckon any member of this lot here has more brains in their head than your entire 'kingdom'," he said the last word with a sneer. "You try our damned patience, lizard." Keail's voice had a warning tone to it. If anything, the saurian seemed even more deeply amused by it. "Oh? I am sorry, your Highness. Should I try to be more polite?" At his words, the other two Dal'mar groaned. Keail's face went red. "Oh, blew your cover. Terribly sorry." "Excuse?" One of the surviving two drow spoke up, standign from mending its wounds. Its allies had been left where they lay, and the anxiousness that had been displayed at the first with these dark skinned creatures was back, and growing. She seemed to make her mind up, and shook her head. ["They will be coming back. The ones you barred will find a way around, and they will be back with many more."] She spoke in her native tongue, trusting that there was someone there that could translate. ["They know this area better than we do. They will not be long."] "Well?" Throatslitter said, turning his back deliberately on the Dal'mar. "What do you want to do? I am game for another fight, but it might be better to flee. If you stay and fight, it will be rough. They are a poor foe, these Kobrahl, but they are numerous." He ignored the protests of Keail, "You have the crown prince of Norwood in your possession. Either way, there is much to discuss - either after we face another horde of these fools, or while we flee. I know a place where we can be safe for a time." The Dal'mar are, for once, silent. What do you do?
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| Keelin | Wed Apr 5, 2017 12:37 am Post #60 |
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Keelin stood among dead reptilians, breathing quicker than normal. Blood dripped off her hook-swords before she let go of their handles. As her twin weapons clattered to the ground and her arms flopped to either side, her eye roved through the darkness until she found Kagiso on the ceiling. The golem she'd just recently met was pouring out blue mist. Surprisingly, considering the powerhouses composing the mercenary team, her fellow Leaguer had been one of the few people to actually deal substantial damage to the encroaching mini-horde. Keelin issued her ally a blank-faced thumbs-up. The appearance of the new lizardperson, apparently an ally, surprised Keelin. She almost interrupted the conversation, but held her tongue when the one called Throatslitter showed them the closest thing to basic almost-respect they'd gotten since starting this useless quest. The reveal that one of the Dal'mar was secretly royalty made Keelin roll her eye, though she threw Mistalee a bone and at the very least didn't dignify the big reveal with a loud groan like before. Throatslitter gave them all a choice: stay here and fight, or leave. This made the angel hunter audibly balk. "Excuse me? Did you really... give us a choice?" She stuck a pinky finger in her ear and twisted it. "I have to admit, I start to daydream a little when all you higher-up types prattle amongst yourselves for a long time. I did get you correct, right? You are asking us about something, with the intent of listening to our input?" That was a lie -- Keelin was somewhat physically incapable of the lack of mental discipline necessary for daydreaming -- but if she was normal, she would've done that. Close enough. "I appreciate the gesture and all, I really honestly do, but I have to say... Just because we're mercenaries doesn't mean we're [removed]ing blood-drinkers. Why the hell would we want to keep fighting after that? What would we even gain, knowing that this whole job is actually a glorified, underpaid bodyguard detail? I vote we say 'to hell with this.'" Lorica presented some damn good points about their contract, and Keelin found herself nodding in solidarity with her friend. Of course, these assholes continued to belittle the Keeper, underestimate her, and show nothing but disrespect toward her achievements in spite of her unreal levels of hardship. That's gonna bite them so, so hard in the ass one of these days. Hopefully soon. Edited by Keelin, Wed Apr 5, 2017 12:40 am.
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7:28 PM Jul 11

