Fantasy Before the Storm... [Main]

[Zariel]

Before the Storm...

Cast

Zariel - Elesis Crownguard / Kaze Hisakawa
Rusty of Shackleford - Addam Brightwall
LadyOfStars - Asha’bellanar
. D O V E - Dremnime
AI10100 - Mal'Ikari
Colorless Spectrum - Aenvhir
Mineczka - Yi, Myung-Hwa
NivieApple - Phayafaen Thea'alis
Goonfire - Minoru Kazama-Kishu
Athanas - Amunis
Dumplingboy - Kamaria
The Prophet - Astora V. Durham
Lazaro1505 - Vortiger Murena

Prologue
​

After being banished from Mount Yadulsk, the Sveljordian trickster deity, Ikol, plotted against his godly kin. Using all his guile, Ikol schemed to plunge the world in complete chaos and turmoil. An opportunity presented itself when Princess Anastasia of Galar visited the ice-ridden land that is the Sveljord.

The princess had made it a custom to attend the annual festival that takes place in celebration of the winter solstice. To the Sveljordians, this time is known as Yule. Torches light up the villages; children receive gifts; poets sing ballads of legends; lovers proclaim their intent for one another; people dance around the fire in the evening. It is a joyous period, but arguably the most anticipated event is The Grand Hunt. To mark the end of the festival, it is a tradition for the tribes to compete. Each tribe send their most skilled hunters, and mightiest warriors, to embark on a month-long journey in search of an offering. The task sounds simple, slay a beast as a sacrifice for the gods. However, the Sveljordian believe that the tribe which slays the mightiest beast will earn the favour of the gods for an entire year.

Much like previous years, Anastasia joined the hunt. She allied herself with the tribe of her close friend. But this year, while she was on a walk after setting up camp in the forest, she was approached by an impoverished old man who begged for her aid. Her benevolence is what drove her to help. Unbeknown to her, the man's frail appearance was a mere disguise, and it was, in fact, the duplicitous deity, Ikol. With flawless cunning, he deceived Anastasia into eating a golden apple from a Jormung tree. A fruit deemed too sacred for a mortal to consume. And so, through this inadvertent mistake, Ikol's plan set into motion.

Meanwhile, in the neighbouring nation of Galar, the sky rumbled as brooding dark storm clouds appeared out of nowhere, casting the entire country in premature twilight. Cities were set ablaze and blinded by flashes of white as bolts of lightning mercilessly crashed down from the heavens. A giant boom rolled across the capital—Heidel. The clouds gyrated, creating a single hole in the centre, from which a beacon of blue light fell. A figure descended, announcing her presence to the ruler and people of Galar. It was Izmir, the Sveljordian goddess of lightning. She reveals that she has imprisoned Princess Anastasia for her blasphemous crime and is ready to unleash the fury of the gods on Galar as punishment. The only way to save the princess and the destruction of the kingdom is to appease Izmir by accepting her challenge. Galar must offer its [X] finest heroes to complete 10 arduous labours as penance. After issuing her ultimatum, Izmir returned to Mount Yadulsk. Her body was no longer there, but her presence was felt by all as the storm persisted throughout Galar. With no other choice, the King summons the most elite group of knights at his service, the Wings of Valor...

​

​

 

[Zariel]

• Elesis Crownguard
• Kaze Hisakawa
• Other Characters

• 
  
  
  

  
  ​

  By dawn, an infantry of Galarian soldiers stands steadfast behind Elesis. They marched with three hundred swords, two days across the open fields, forests and hills before reaching Ehwaz.
  
  Elesis gazes upon the sombre hues of the land. The uneven terrain was a mixture of rocky hillocks and grass. A malodours scent of rotting eggs emanated from the nearby mines—but that was the least of the Galarian's worries.
  
  For what awaited them on the other side of the rock-strewn stretch was dread-inducing. A wretched raider clan of savage orcs. Wintertusk. Their very name sends a bitter-cold chill racing down one's spine. Almost two weeks have passed since the orcs seized control of the outpost, and began reaping the iron ore from the mines for themselves. Now, after amassing an army, King Lucius IV wants to reclaim what is rightfully Galar's.
  
  The ground trembled.
  
  It was the first sign—Wintertusk had arrived. The low, persistent sound of bawls in the distance gradually turned into howling war cries. Silhouettes of figures soon became visible from beyond the fog, and they emerged, revealing their brutish selves.
  
  "Look at those uncivilised beasts," the war general commented with a disdain. "A bunch of bloodthirsty savages."
  
  Elesis stood with a mask of indifference, her hands resting on the pommel of her sword. Her eyes focused on the enemies advancing towards them.
  
  "Are you nervous?" asked the general, a smirk on his visage.
  
  "Hardly," Elesis replied candidly.
  
  "How long has it been, since we last fought side by side like this?"
  
  "Too long."
  
  "How many of yours did you bring?"
  
  "Enough... a single member from the Wings of Valor is a match for at least a dozen orcs," Elesis stated proudly. "What about you?"
  
  "Only Galar's finest. A total of three hundred esteemed men and women that are ready to serve their kingdom." the general nodded. "I have divided my troops into three halves. One hundred and fifty stand behind the two of us, while two more divisions, each seventy-five soldiers strong, approach from the east and west. Thus, we have backed the enemy into a corner. There is no escape."
  
  The general placed his hand around his collar and unclipped the cape buckle. He removed the opulent cape from around him, that served as nothing but aesthetic and patriotic value and held it to one side. Such a thick cloak would only get in the way during battle. One of the general's soldiers approached him, took the cloak from his hand, and draped it over his forearm before stepping away.
  
  "Let them come. We engage after my signal." the general said, rolling his shoulder once in anticipation.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  ​

  The moisture in the air was almost palpable. A dense fog obscured the horizon.
  
  Kaze was perched atop an elevated piece of land. From here, he had a clear view of all three Galarian divisions. His fingers twitched, restless. He'd been sat on this high up land for several hours now, waiting for the enemy to show. But it was only when the sun rose, at long last, did he hear the distant roars of his foes.
  
  Immediately, the marksman rose to his feet and scoured at the fog. Hordes of orcs came eerily rushing out of the brume. Kaze shuddered in revulsion.
  
  "So they're finally here," he said.
  
  
  
• 
  
  Spoiler: Galarian War General

  
  
  

Mentions: N/A
Interactions: N/A

 

[Dumplingboy]

Name: Kamaria (and inyoka)
Class type:Healer
Interactions: too lazy
Status: getting beat up by rocks

Battle? They were here for a battle? The walk was so long she had forgotten what they were actually doing. I mean she would follow Elisis anywhere without asking, it did not take much to befriend Kamaria. She did wish that she had paid attention, usually she would just wait around until someone told her it was time to move. She did understand her role here though. Stay back, heal the general troops, do not wander off. Kamaria was an amazing healer, people would come to her when she was around six. A simple task of keeping 300 troops running about should not be that big of a deal. Wait orcs? did someone say orcs?

Nervous?
Yes what if I get stepped on.
Move.

Ah yes the ever encouraging words of Inyoka, that Kamaria would make up for her snakes. Inyoka was accompanying her as usual. Along with a few other wild neighbors who were already slithering out from unturned rocks and burrows already biting the ankles of the orcs. She turned to the group of bigger, older, members of the Wings of Valor and ran through their ranks. For Mal'Ikari he got a touch of luck, as well as: Addam,Astora,Dremmen and Phayafaen. She stopped in front of Ammunis, looking him up and down and then skipping over him. For Minour she took her stick and tapped his armour with it. It wasn’t much but his armour would hold some minor healing/restoration properties. She doubts he is going to get worn out but at least now he would be able to maintain top endurance for a little longer. Next was Aenvhir, an equilibrium spell would suit her. She could handle herself but if things really did get bad for her at least that rage she built up from dying would turn into health. Of course it could only come into effect if her life was actually in danger, She was sure anyone of the heroes could get to anybody before that happened. Running back up to the front tagging Elisis with a touch of luck as well. She was not sure what to do with the general, did he need anything?

Did I miss something important about this guy?
I was not listening, weren't you?
I didn’t even know what we were doing today…

Well fine she would just make sure to keep a close eye on him, along with the 300 he chose to bring along. She already saw the flanks to the east and west and would stay back until they were in the heat of battle. Once everyone collides she would not be able to keep up with the life forces. She would need to use her senses as her first line of detection and then follow the weakest life force to the source as the second one. Seeing the general remove his cloak she casted herself in her aura again. Running back up to the front not understanding the rules of soldier placement, she got a good look at the upcoming threat.

Why is everyone so big?
They eat too much.

On top of not knowing where she was supposed to stand or waiting for the generals command, Kamaria lost her footing and plummeted down the slope towards the oncoming horde of large orcs, Inyoka chasing after her.

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Aenvhir

A breath escaped her lips. Her fiery hair tied into a braid that rested on her shoulder. Blue eyes gazed over the hills of Ehwaz with no interest at the crack of dawn. An invitation of an old friend, Elesis. She wasn't one to pass up the chance of fighting, especially when it was with one that she and Eoldah have problems with.

The tribe of Wintertusk has been nothing but a thorn for the current Warmother. Aenvhir has been waiting for the moment that she'd be able to show them that her sister isn't someone they would want to mess with. She breathed in and closed her eyes, her prayers to her deities recited in her head, voice murmuring low. "May this battle bring glory to Dorak, bless me with strength as I fight in your name." She last said.

Dovahl grunted as he felt the tremors of the Orcs march, a smile spread across Aenvhir's face as she watched silhouettes from the foggy horizon. The excitement clear in her eyes with a mix of frustration. Her hand stroked her pet's white fur and whispered, "It's time to show Wintertusk what we're truly made of, buddy."

She waited for a sign, that signal that said that it was time to battle but there still wasn't and she was already getting antsy from waiting. They were just a bunch of Orcs, easy peasy. And from the looks of it, it didn't seem as if they were going to head on anytime soon. She gripped her hold on the straps, eager to yell and charge but somebody else went in first. Aenvhir let out a laugh. "To think there was someone who's more eager to fight than me."

She looked over her shoulder and to Astora, a man who had beaten her on every occasion that they have fought in the coliseum and gave him a smirk. "You best be holding on tight, Ser Durham. Wouldn't want your pretty hair and clothes to be ruined." She goaded to the man all in good fun, for her at least.

"Come Dovahl, run." The bear huffed and strode first and gained speed soon after, making past Elesis and the General. Aenvhir howled into the air, "To battle! For glory!"

mention: Elesis Zariel Kamaria Dumplingboy (The eager one) || interaction: Astora The Prophet

 

[NivieApple]

Phayafaen Thea'alis
And Teeman
Mentions: Zariel , Dumplingboy , Colorless Spectrum
Interactions: ~~~

Spoiler: Appearance

Phayafaen found herself pitying the overgrown tiger she stood beside amidst the soldiers in Ehwaz. If the smell emanating from the mines was repugnant to her, it would be worse to her feline friend's keen senses. Still, the beast ducked its massive head to nuzzle her stomach, bringing a smile to the girl's face, through almost knocking her back onto her butt.

"Yes, Teeman, you're a good boy," she muttered distractedly, ruffling the long amber fur behind his ears which were larger than her hands. Phay glanced about the area, her lengthy, ebony hair tied loosely behind her back, and noted the positions of Elesis and a few members of the Wings of Valor. Hm... but where was that- A light touch from a hand and a low growl from Teeman alerted Faen of the hooded girl's presence as she imbued a spell upon her before making her way to likely to do the same to another. With narrowed eyes, Phay calmed the tiger's unease; even if she didn't particularly like being touched without warning, Faen wouldn't let her pet attempt to maul the other girl who was surely just trying to help. A small snicker escaped her lips at the thought, however, of Teeman lunging after the girl. Maybe that shouldn't be funny, though.

Suddenly, the earth began to writhe. Phay turned in the direction of the beastly hollering that grew in the distance, and Teeman forced his head beneath her, positioning the girl on his neck, preparing for a fight. One of her hands rose to press between her fingers the small moon charm which hung from the golden circlet in her hair, then she gazed into the sky.

"Nix. Goddess of Night and Dreams. Hear me, know my faith, and grace my comrades with your holy blessings..." Would her Goddess be watching her now, as she rode over towards the redheaded woman and a few of the other warriors? From atop her tiger's back, she could see the silhouettes of the savage orc creatures advancing and her lips curled distastefully. Despite the disdain she held, anticipation began to course through her body with fervor. These moments were when she truly felt alive. Ideas of weapons to use and maneuvers to pull were particularly thrilling.

Then, a figure was crashing down the hill towards the enemy with impressive speed. Was that... Phay covered her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle a laugh as she witnessed the girl toppling foot over head. Another woman laughed, drawing her attention.

"To think there was someone who's more eager to fight than me." Now, Phay cracked up more, burying her face briefly in Teeman's soft fur to muffle her giggling. She probably should not be laughing so much. Aenvhir then turned to Astora behind her with a smirk, and Phay bit her tongue to keep from snickering at her comment. After, the two charged headlong after the tumbling girl and Phay quirked a brow. Hadn't the general just said to hold? With a small chuckle, the green-eyed girl reached forward and patted the head of her mount.

"What a brilliant way to begin a battle, aye Teeman?"

 

[AI10100]

M A L ' I L K A R I
Interacting with: Dumplingboy
Location: Ehwaz Hills​

Mal would be lying if he said the large amount of people did not bother him. He had wandered off at some point before the assembly - there was a large army of orcs that they needed to defeat as they were holding the mine. He could feel the voice inside his head yapping in excitement for another fight - a tad bit impatient as it hounded for Mal to simply start right then and there. But these were his allies - or rather, they were Elesis's and by extension his. Galarian troops - he remembered seeing a few of them on Ixtal before. He was sure that they were capable, based on what he heard while they were idle. But there was just so many of them.

As they got into formation, Mal fell with the other members of the Wings of Valor. The fight was getting closer. He's never fought with these people before and he only knew their capabilities in much more subdued environments. It didn't really matter since most of them had tales of grandiose of their adventures and their fights! Surely, someone like Drem could easily incapacitate a hundred of the orcs with her spells! Of course, he hasn't seen the extent of her magical capabilities in a fight but from her stories, she was a very powerful necromancer! Though she did seem to sprinkle a bit of lies here and there but it seemed to be all in good fun.

He jolted out of his thoughts when he felt someone touch him and he came face to face with the little moon. He had never learned her name which was completely fine. She seemed to be content with being called that. Mal idly wondered what she had given to him before snapping his attention back to the charging orc army. Elesis's general friend seemed to be very confident with his plan that had the orc army surrounded. That also meant that there was little chance for escape for the orcs. Which meant he could have as much fun as he wanted. Mal reached behind him to grab the kanabo that was almost his size and held it in his hands. Another wave of the need for blood washed over him and he took a deep breath, voices that call for both death and calmness battling it out for a second.

"I know you can't wait."

Mal exhaled as if to expel the thoughts in his head. Right now, the only thing important was winning the fight and surviving. Mal tilted his head as the general spoke of a signal - and Little Moon promptly fell and began sliding down the slope and towards the orcs. His eyes widened and he charged forward just as Dovahl did with Aenvhir and Astora on his back. As he slid down the slope to reach Little Moon, his size began to grow until he had reached his full height by the time he had reached her. As he landed on the ground, an orc charged right at him and with just one swing of the kanabo - the orc was sent flying to the side. Mal let out a huff before picking Little Moon up. "Are you okay?" He asked distractedly before he sucked in his breath and shifted so she was behind him as he swung his weapon again at another orc. "Stay behind me please." He said after letting her go and grabbing another orc by his neck. In surprise, the orc dropped his weapons and began to fight against him to no avail. With a sickening crunch, the orc went limp and Mal threw the body at the incoming orcs to deter them from their full on charge. "Climb on if you need safe passage somewhere." He remarked to the girl behind him as he put both hands on the handle of the kanabo.

 

[The Prophet]

Astora V. Durham

Spoiler: Appearance

Mentions: I guess the Wov?
Interactions: Colorless Spectrum

"These Orcs smell absolutely foul. I picked up the scent a while ago, but now that we're here it's absolutely nauseating." Astora grumbled, his arcane empowered senses letting him know exactly how terrible everything about that mine, and some soldiers for that matter, smelled. If he wasn't in the presence of a crowd Astora would have likely lost his composure a few times. This was a mission however; it wouldn't do to embarrass Elesis, even on something as easy as this. dressed more like a well dressed swashbuckler than the usual wear, the lomg haired blonde tied up some of his hair with a ribbon while tying his best to ignoe the horrid smells. What did these Ocs even do to make it smell so bad around here? It didn't even small like a mine anymore.

The atrocities that ravaged his nostrils aside, Astora was excited. He had done a bit of light reading on Orcs the way here and was excited to experience this great strength the scholars spoke of. Not only that, he'd be fighting with fellow Wings of Valor, and that would be great to see how strong the force was. His blue-green irises found the elusive member of such force when he felt something touch his leg quickly. He waved at her briefly from atop the back of Aenvhir's large bear, offering thanks.

Astora turned back to the matter at hand when Aenvhir spoke, shaking his head to clear the silky blonde locks from his eyesight. Laughing lightly at her goading he smiled.

"Likewise. Let's both try to not come back drenched in Orc blood shall we? I hear it tends to stain."

He did take her advice however, making sure he was secure atop the bear. His hand fell to the longsword on his right side, finding comfort in the way the pommel felt in his palm. Looking towards the other members of the Wings of valor he stifled a yawn, speaking louder as to talk to them. "I'm sure we all already know this, but our only real defeat condition would be the destruction of the mine itself. Kill them all and we win. Let's have some fun, shall we?" He forewarned, just in case things got too wild. But suddenly, Astora heard rocks skitter and turned to watch Moon tumble down the hill towards the orcs. Astora would have managed to hold in his laugh if not for Aenvhir's joke, causing him to unsuccessfully use his coat to muffle his outburst of laughter. So much for composure. Taking a moment, He calmed himself just as he felt Aenvhir and subsequently himself take off with gusto, barrelling towards the enemy. Hopefully the rest of the Wings of Valor charged too, or they were going to miss out on the fun about to be had. As Astora ode on the back of the bounding animal, Astora passively kept an eye on Moon up until the point of her rescue by Mal'ilkari as a small show of worry. It would not be a good look for the elite fighting force if a member died out on a task such as this, from tripping and falling down a hill. Soon the raging mass of Orcs had come into view and Astora drew Emperor into his left hand, twirling the elegant blade once befoe keeping it at his side. They wee less than a minute away fom crashing into the enemy and yet it could not come fast enough. "Are you up for a bit of added sport, Aenvhir? I'm willing to bet I can get more of them than you and Dovahl, and bragging rights if you best me. Deal?"

 

[Mineczka]

"Such insolent fools. Failing to check the shadows for danger~"​

As the army positioned itself, the orcs scrambled to their defenses, with a majority of the forces moving out into the field, leaving a much smaller force within the walls, manning the weapons within, which included a catapult, crossbows, and a weapon all to familiar to a certain fox, who snuck about in the shadows, keeping it's head low, only moving when it was safe. It felt natural to the fox, to sneak and outwit those that could bring harm to her, and these orcs were no different, as they were quite oblivious, though the army that marched on their position was quite the distraction, enough of one to let a peculiar nine-tailed fox in without any notice, and giving it free reign to move about within the outpost they had taken.

While her allies waited, she would move, eventually finding herself a hidden spot within one of the stables, where her form changed from a vulpine form, to that of a human, her nine tails and ears ever present, "The hunt begins~" With her form now of a humanoid, she strode from her hiding spot, knowing the main force at this point would've left the outpost, it was her job to deal with the rear guard, easy. Their eyes were focused on their tasks, rather than their backs, giving the vulpine woman the chance to move to her targets, first, that Hwatcha. Myung-hwa had seen the effectiveness of this weapon, especially when used against a tight formation like her allies are in. Moving quickly, a paintbrush was pulled from her pouch, it's tip, appearing ever blackened with ink.

As she approached the siege weapons, an orb formed over her hand, several of the orcs stood around them, directed by another, which appeared to be a Shaman, as they seemed to move the weaponry around and into place. At that moment, she sprung, using her paintbrush first, A sigil was drawn in the air, her target: that shaman. Moving her paintbrush up through the sigil, a spike of hard stone sprang from the ground beneath the orc, impaling him on a stalagmite, and raising the alarm of the other Orcs, who turned to the vulpine woman, whom already threw the orb to them, as their strength began to fade gradually, passing them by, and bouncing back into them, just as she planned.

However, the alarm was raised none the less, and pandemonium began, as orcs tried to find the being responsible for the attack. Drawing a second sigil, a plume of fire reached from her, striking the small group before exploding, letting a few others onto the trail as they'd see a few tails around the corner, only to find another sigil on the ground, the same firey sigil that soon exploded. This raised the alarm of the other orcs within the outpost, whom now kept eyes everywhere, lowering the number of orcs along the wall, as they had to watch for a rogue of sorts sneaking about. In the meantime, Myung-hwa found another few Shamans, picking them off one-by-one with the Earthen spikes, while leaving a deadly fire trap for any pursuers.

The wall was next, while she couldn't take all of them at once, Myung-hwa wanted to eliminate certain points, mostly the watchtowers, drawing a third sigil, a powerful gust of wind reached from her position, and anyone placed within the area of that wind, would be pushed away and preferably off the watchtower, the less vision they had, the better. Though, her eyes slowly moved to the Hwatcha from earlier, an idea came to mind....

 

[LadyOfStars]

Asha'bellanar
High Priestess of Bashuri, Summoner Exemplar

High above what would soon be the battlefield between the Wings of Valor and the Wintertusk orc tribe, Asha'bellanar and her beloved griffin, Fen'Harel soared through the sky as if they owned it. Large wings beat against the wind and kept them afloat while powerful eyes scoured the ground and kept watch over those below. Asha's hair whipped around as they circled overhead, her soft, authoritative voice whispering a long prayer over the groups of soldiers and her comrades in the Wings of Valor. They each worshiped a different deity and while she might not have understood those outsider beliefs, she knew that her gods were just and kind would still protect her allies.

One of Fen'Harel's feathers broke loose and twirled about in the wind just before it hit Asha in the face. The soft , gold colored feather tickled her nose, bringing a smile to her face and interrupting her prayer. "fen'Harel." She called in Bashurian as she placed her hands on the back of his neck. The large creature gave one glance back over his shoulders and Asha grabbed hold of a few locks of the Griffin's hair. Suddenly the majestic flying creature dove downward with its wings tucked into its side. streaks of fog trailed behind Fen as he tore through the mist just as the orc shadows were coming into view. His great wings stretched out and as he flow over the Galarian armies, kicked up such a gust of wind that might've blown them away had they not been wearing armor.

Kamaria was a native to Bashuri, just as Asha was so she knew a great deal more about the girl than she knew about any of the others. She had heard all of the wild tales about Kamaria as the girl was growing up and it reminded her of her early years in Bashuri. Now here she stood on the front lines of a vicious battle, representing Bashuri and ready to prove her own strength in battle. "Kor, watch over your young disciple this day and keep her from the underworld."

Fen'Harel began to beat his wings. slowly descending to the ground nearby Kamaria. "Hello young one!" Asha greeted as she climbed off of the Griffin's back and dusted herself off. he often spoke in Bashurian when there were others around that could understand it. She loved the language and using it made her feel as though home was not so far away. While Fen eyed the girl's snake playfully, Asha approached the young healer with a warm smile upon her countenance. "You make the Gods proud by standing strong in the face of a fearsome foe. Remember to fight with heart and honor and Bahru will see you through this."

Asha looked over to where Elesis stood, but before she could make her way there, she heard some of their companions take off towards the enemy. Quickly she turned her head to watch them charge without fear. There were very few warriors like Aenvhir, she was in a class all her own and no one could say otherwise. These enemies were personal to her it seemed, they did both hail from the frozen lands of Sveljord. Watching the young warrior sprint towards combat got Fen'harel riled up and exciting to join the fight. "Go on, but be careful of projectiles." With her permission given, the Griffin took off almost as fast as Aenvhir had done. He rocketed upward and over the fog, disappearing to harass the orcs hordes.

mentions: Dumplingboy Colorless Spectrum

 

[. D O V E]

Dremnime​

There were plenty of things to be expected in a battlefield: you have the two clashing armies, their devastating weapons of warfare, countless of ear-ripping war cries, low murmurs of prayers, the feeling of impending doom, and other equally-foreboding whatnots. So, why exactly was there a pink thing, repetitively bouncing upto dozens feet in the air, amidst the Galarian infantry?

"Wow! That's a lot of orcs!"

The answer was simple: an exhilarated Dremnime.

Now, if anyone were to look at her now and point out that she was indeed the Lady of Death, they'd certainly be the receiving end of disbelieving stares and perhaps even mocking laughter. Not that anyone was to blame of course. Between the lady's hyperactive behavior and obnoxiously pink appearance, nobody would ever suspect she was a necromancer.

Finally, Drem's springy behavior came to an end and she found herself landing right in front of a particular paladin. "Ele...," she placed her gloved hands on top of the said woman's, lilac orbs fixing on amber ones while glints of excitement shone from beneath, "I want to tell you something." Yes, she was doing all of this in front of three hundred men and the general. No, she couldn't possibly care less about it. She bit her lips, face flushing almost as brightly as her cloak, before finally exploding:

"I CAN'T WAIT FOR THEM TO DIE!" She began laughing hysterically, back arching as she faced the sky and threw her hands up on the air. It was an undeniably concerning display, enough to warrant a few gawks and sweats from the watching soldiers. For anyone who had spent at least five minutes conversing with Drem, though, this would certainly be just another Tuesday. Like a bamboo swayed by a strong wind, Drem straightened back to a normal standing position and got a good look of her audience; it slowly occurred to her that she must've said something disagreeable again.

"Oh, sillies! Don't worry, I'm not talking about you guys- I meant the orcs! I can't wait for them to be gutted like fishes or, like, impaled from the mouth to the other end which would be their anu- yes, I should stop speaking now." She flashed everyone a shaky grin. While it was true that she wouldn't personally mind if anyone aside from her and a selected few got squashed by a gigantic rock or something, she knew Elesis would; the last thing Drem wanted was to upset her- not that she particularly cared or anything! "A-Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that since we've been marching with these smoothskins for eons now." And they haven't been spending much time together, alone- NOT THAT SHE PARTICULARLY CARED OR ANYTHING!!!

Oh great, now she felt a teeny bit embarrassed. "That's all, good bye!" She hastily turned on her heels, eyes widening after they landed on some of the Wings of Valor members. "Wha-!? The blockheads are already rushing in!" She yelled, proving to everyone that she had the attention span of a mayfly when she quickly propelled herself off the ground and headed towards Mal and Kamaria. She landed on both feet with a thud and pointed her trusty wand against an incoming horde; its tip glowed a hot pink before an energy of the same color bolted out, zapping the orcs with a lightning chain.

"Hi, children. I need more corpses!" She wiggled her fingers, a crazed grin donning her red face. A few steps away, the orcs whom Mal had recently fell rose from the ground; long, strained groans escaped their pale lips as they picked their weapons up, once again ready to fight. Only this time, its for their new master.

Zariel AI10100 Dumplingboy

 

[Goonfire]

The Wings of Valor were indeed a special case; their members were divided among the companies surrounding the kill-box. However, a tiny detachment had already moved in to sow unprecedented mayhem.

Myung-Hwa had kicked off the extermination, destructive spells giving a great head-start, loud as it may have been. The other orcs of the rear ranks rushed to destroy the single intruder. They failed to notice the nearly transparent figure approaching from their other flank—the other unexpected guest.

The elegant, resonating song of a katana emerging from its sheath caused a shaman’s sentinel to turn. The last thing he saw was the blade slice through his throat as the cloak dispersed. Fresh blood spurted across the dark outfit of a single shinobi. Some of the ‘archers’—which seemed more like glorified javelin and sling throwers—noticed the kill, but it was far too late for them.

In one quick, fluid motion, Minoru dove into the fray. While the closest five orcs were drawing maces and axes to match finesse with brutality, he attacked. Each swing was a blur, making it difficult for anyone watching to tell if they connected. However, the results quickly gave the answer. His sixth stroke merely shook the blood off his blade, a red streak sprinkling across the earth before five more sprays joined it in painting a grotesquely monochromatic scene.

Quasireal magic tomahawks flew from the crude wood and bone staff of a shaman who was backing away in Myung-Hwa’s general direction. Minoru darted after the aggressor. Projectiles flew past as he ducked, rolled, and slid around each. Orcs knew little about abjurations, making the next kill all too easy. The shorter man sheathed his prized Onigui, then jumped and swung around the shaman’s neck. Minoru’s thighs held tight, allowing him time to grab a kunai, even with his mark struggling.

One brief flash of blurred motion, and Minoru was landing next to his partner. “Time to give the signal,” he reminded her in a low, gravelly voice as he watched the teetering shaman collapse with the kunai stuck in his temple.

Mineczka

 

[Zariel]

• Elesis Crownguard

• 
  
  
  

  
  ​

  
  Though covered in plates of armour, the touch of another's hand on top of her own made Elesis's eyes look to one side. None other than Dremnime had bound her way over to Elesis.
  
  In spite of the setting, the necromancer spoke in her usual informal tone, addressing Elesis by her personal nickname. "Ele..." she began, digging deeper into Elesis's eyes with her own. "I want to tell you something."
  
  Elesis swallowed hard. What was her companion about to say? She'd better not embarrass me, not now, Elesis thought. The paladin's fair skin turned a pinkish-red around her cheeks. It was funny, how it wasn't the upcoming battle that had gotten Elesis's heart beating faster, but the incongruously dressed woman beside her. Nervously, she said, "Dremnime, now is not the—"
  
  "I CAN'T WAIT FOR THEM TO DIE!" the necromancer blurted, a psychotic laugh went with her preposterous statement. As if to clarify to the gawking soldiers stood behind them, Dremnime added, "Oh, sillies! Don't worry, I'm not talking about you guys- I meant the orcs! I can't wait for them to be gutted like fishes or, like, impaled from the mouth to the other end which would be their anu- yes, I should stop speaking now."
  
  "Dremnime, I think that would be a good idea," Elesis tilted her head to face the pink-haired woman.
  
  "A-Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that since we've been marching with these smoothskins for eons now." there was a hint of discontent in the young necromancer's voice. Was she bothered by something? "That's all, goodbye!" she spun on her heels, but commented when she noticed something an eyeshot away. "Wha-!? The blockheads are already rushing in!"
  
  Elesis and the general both looked in the indicated direction simultaneously. Someone was tumbling down the rocky slope. It was the healer, Kamaria.
  
  "Who is that?!" the general exclaimed, pulling on his hair.
  
  "That would be—" Elesis was about to answer, but was quickly distracted when she heard the thuds of a giant creature.
  
  An all too recognisable bear carrying two riders stormed into the fray. And then there was a giant sliding down the hill, chasing after the first little girl who was already falling, he swatted a few orcs while at it. Asha's regal griffon was the next to disappear into the mist, presumably to wreak havoc. Joining the madness, Dremnine leapt an inhuman distant after the others. Elesis contained a laugh. Ah, the Wings of Valor making their dramatic entrance. A little unrefined, and not quite the entrance she was expecting, but dramatic nonetheless.
  
  "WHAT ARE THEY ALL DOING?!" The general yelled, jaw dropped and eyes wide open.
  
  "Making their own signal... I think," Elesis shrugged.
  
  "What?!"
  
  "Sir, do we engage?" came the voice of one of the general's troops. They were all a little bewildered at the sudden turn of events. No one was expecting something like this.
  
  "I guess we don't have much of a choice," the general muttered in a low growl. He then turned around to face his men, he spoke in a loud, clear tone, "Soldiers! Hold the line! Stay with me, and abandon not your brothers and your sisters! Remember what we fight for... For honour! For Justice! For Galar!"
  
  "For Galar!" the entire army yelled as a single entity before each troop rushed into battle, swords firmly in their grasp, heads held high, and an unbreakable spirit forged by kinship.
  
  
  
  

Mentions: Dumplingboy AI10100 Colorless Spectrum The Prophet LadyOfStars
Interactions: . D O V E

 

[Dumplingboy]

كاماري
Interactions: . D O V E AI10100
Mentions: The Prophet Colorless Spectrum ​

Reaching the bottom, Kamaria was able to slow down her momentum. She sat up slowly to see large orcs heading her way. She was more hurt than she was injured. You don’t get good at climbing without falling,and she knew how to fall properly. There was no dodging the oncoming horde, she sighed as she pondered if death was painful. Then she heard a screech from up above, coming from the casters griffin. Well she could not die here, Asha'bellanar would be upset and that was unacceptable. She was about to cast her all heal until she heard her ‘name’ being called.

Oh a bear
Hammer

If kamaria could she would have let out a scream as she rolled away from the swing of a war hammer that slammed into the ground inches away from her. The orc was quickly dealt with by another, Mal’ilkari. Kamaria did not mind being picked up. Usually this would bother her but she had other things to worry about. Her first battle was off to a rocky start, but she still had a job to do. Besides Asha she has never been alongside someone in a fight before. Usually she would hide out and when all was overcome do damage control. Even then she would usually be summoned to go heal sickly royals, maybe a war general on the brink of death. She was able to make quite the reputation for herself without touching the battle field. Kamaria was not a kid any longer though, and she was powerful enough to face danger head on. She could not do much damage, but tag her with someone like Mal and you got nightmare fuel. Without needing much prompt she hopped onto the man’s back holding on as he would fight the upcoming horde with his war club. She watched with a bright eyed interest at the battle going on. So this is what it’s like on the front lines. Inyoka slithered out from her neck and off the Mal’s arms to the face of an orc flanking behind them. With the orcs strength he was able to pull the viper off his eyes revealing his bleeding eyes. The orc blindly threw Inyoka who was able to catch a hold of Kamaria’s staff and returned to his place on her shoulders

Do you think death is painful? She asked watching the orc fall to his knees and scream out in agony as his eyes and face boiled from the acid like venom and foam fell out his mouth.

For you I hope not

I have no problems being wrapped up in Kor’s embrace

I hope Zkadi allows our friendship till then

Oh it's another, Dremnime. Kamaria waved at the necromancer, seeming to be unbothered by the carangage going on around her. She did not like the zombies. Of all things that should have bothered her it was the undead that made her stomach sink. It could be that her deity was not a fan, or she did not like the feeling of seeing something move about but with no life force to detect. She did not have to think about it too long, the king’s army was heading in. And the first man dropped, great. Kamaria hopped off Mal’s back showing a lot more grace than she did a while ago. Stepping on the head of an orc who tried to swing at the agile thing but Kamaria managed to dodge. She slid through the legs of another orc as inyoka bit his ankle making him fall to the ground and soon collapse in a seizure. Despite being barefooted, except for the cloth wrapped around her heels, Kamarai ran across the rocky terrain with amazing agility. She was not much of a threat but these large heavy footed orcs had about as much chance of catching her as she did of besting one of them in a fight. She was heading over to Astora and Aenvhir, Though it would be a lot easier if she could call out to them. Her plan of action being to run from one group to another that way she would not have to worry about her own safety and instead the others.

 

[Lazaro1505]

Black Prior
​

‘Mala ultro adsunt. Misfortune comes uninvited. It hungers for blood, craving eternal darkness....’ were the only words going through his head.... him recalling the reason why they have been sent here. It was because those damned orcs have taken over the mining outpost and using it for their own. He, along with 300 others have been sent here to deal with this threat. Sighing, he began to prepare himself mentally, and await the coming battle. Looking down the hill and at the Wintertusk tribe, he ignored all unneeded conversations, because why feel the need to speak right before an battle that may result in their deaths. But then he saw something he would have not expected here.... for someone was tumbling down the hill and thus, set off a chain of events that he did not want to know the reasoning of.

Of course..... he would not even think about charging unless given the order to, and that’s when the General had told them to begin the charge. He yelled out “Orci tenebris haec sit uera tempus ..... ..... nunc tempus hostibus ruina mortis” (English translation: Time to show these orcs what true darkness really is..... now..... time for death and destruction to the enemy) as he slammed both his shield and sword together, sparks coming of from the two engraved weapons. Unlike the other soldiers however, he slowly started his charge, allowing some of the others to go first, before beginning to pick up speed and joined the assault.

It may not be an organized army..... but they are still a threat to be reckoned with, and so, he still needed to be careful here. After all, dying to an savage Orc would make his already low honor non-existent.

One...... he felt his heart beat quickin with his running, the blood pumping quickly through his veins, and supplying him with adrenaline for the battle.

Two..... The distance between him and the enemy is being covered quickly, and soon enough, will be in a melee with his foes.

Three..... He lets out a battle cry as he now faced his foes, activating Inspire. Those who find themselves in a 15 ft radius around him would feel their heart beats quicken, and their limbs bursting with energy, making them feel like they can perform faster and stronger than before. He started the battle by using his sword in a stabbing motion towards an head of an double axe using orc, Truth doing its job perfectly, for the sword plunges itself into the throat of the Orc, the Orc dropping it’s weapons and clawing desperately to remover the sword. He smirked like an maniac as he used his shield to bash it into his own sword, quickly removing the sword from the throat of the Orc, and tearing it up much more in the process. He left the Orc to bleed to death as he faced another, one wielding a spiked club. He went into Bulwark stance as it tried to slam its club onto him, only for the Orc to be flipped over his shield to the other side by his Bulwark Counter. Stomping his left foot on its chest, he made sure it was left helpless on the ground before plunging his sword into the right eye socket of the Orc, the Orc’s face left in a state of shock even after its death. Removing the sword, he quickly turned back to the battle, this was just the first few of the slaughter....... and he is the wolf and they are the helpless sheep.

 

[LadyOfStars]

Asha'Bellanar
High Priestess, Summoner Exemplar​

It had begun, the sound of iron weapons and magic spells resonated through the air as the region finally became a field of battle. Asha's eyes narrowed upon her companions as she watched them all as carefully as she could. Usually she would aid her summon partners in battle, but Fen'Harel was known for his daring feats in combat and she would only slow him down. Hearing the General give the command for his own troops to join the commotion, Asha decided to close ranks with her own leader. Her heels crushed the softened soil beneath her feet as she approached Elesis as silent as death itself. around them the Galarian forces marched towards the enemy hordes and Asha kept her calm composure.

"Should we be worried that neither of us seemed surprised by their sudden charge into war? It certainly isn't normal." A small smirk stretched across her face. She knew exactly who her companions were and what it was they enjoyed doing. Those that charged off to the front were highly capable of handling the wall of enemies they rushed into. No doubt their more stealthy comrades were hidden somewhere further in the war, conducting some sort of sly tactic to panic the enemy.

Emerging from the orc army like a shooting star, Fen'Harel rocketed towards the sky, several orc warriors clutched in his talons. His wings carried him so high that only blurs of green could be seen to discern the orcs from the griffin. Like any creature Fen'Harel went for the kill immediately, he began pecking at the orcs and with each snap he plucked away a limb, an organ, something vital to their survial. The enemy's blood rained down on their own allies, a mass of organs and armor plummeted to the ground with what remained of the orc soldiers.

 

[AI10100]

M A L ' I L K A R I
Interacting with: Dumplingboy . D O V E
Location: Ehwaz Hills​

Mal felt Little Moon climb onto his back which also meant that he was free to go wild without having to worry about her being in any of his reach. He watched one of the orcs go down and threw her snake. Mal didn't have time to think about whether or not Little Moon caught it as he extended a hand to catch the handle of an incoming vertical axe swing. He pushed it to the right to throw the orc off balance and pushed the handle against the orc, forcing the latter to let go of the battleaxe. Mal spun the axe in his hands and threw it straight at the orc, the blade embedding onto the orc's forehead.

A soft thud beside them followed by an announcement. "Will do." Mal responded to Drem as she used her magic to call upon the recently dead. He had no time to watch them fully rise as Little Moon hopped off and scurried away somewhere. For a moment, he turned to watch her go but it looked like she and her snake were doing well by themselves. He readjusted his grip on his kanabo and charged forward. He slammed into one of the orcs, pushing him back to the horde, and slammed his kanabo right into his head. An orc came up to his side, swinging a sword right at him. The blade connected with flesh but the realization that it did little to deter Mal came far too late for the orc. The giant quickly spun around with his kanabo, smashing right into his chest and pushing him back.

"Blood..."

The kanabo yearned for more and Mal wasn't going to deny it its desire. He swung relentlessly at the incoming horde, disarm, smash, disarm, smash, block, grab, throw. He wasn't sure if the lightness of his body was the surge of adrenaline or a spell, but Mal wasn't about to complain. He balked forward as an orc slammed his warhammer on Mal's back. He turned around and reached for the orc, grabbed his arm and threw him down onto the ground. He heaved his kanabo upwards and brought it down onto the orc's head leaving only a sad excuse of red onto the ground. No time to breathe as he stepped aside as another orc slashed at him, two swords poised to strike. The orc let out a war scream as he charged forward and Mal put his kanabo in front of him to block the flurry of attacks but he was being pushed back.

Mal jumped back and regained his footing. As the sword collided with the kanabo, Mal redirected the hit to his side. He pivoted on his foot and brought the kanabo around before sending it straight to the orc's side. The orc lost one of his swords but he was still on his feet. Breathing heavily, the orc raised his sword once again before rushing forward. Mal swung his kanabo once he was within reach and disarmed him. He followed up with a vertical strike but the orc rolled to evade him. The orc crouched low and tackled him, aiming to take him off the ground. Mal had to let go of the kanabo as he was pushed backwards and he grabbed the orc's shoulders. He ripped the orc off of him, lifted him off the ground and drove his head into the ground.

"Hey Drem! This one put up a good fight!" Mal called out before rushing to get his weapon back before some idiot decides to take it for themselves. Just as he grabbed the handle of his weapon, a large boulder was heading straight for his position. He forced to roll forward and barely avoided the incoming boulder. Just as be recovered, he found himself in a small bit of trouble with a group of orcs ready to pounce. He gripped his kanabo tighter, ready to go into the defensive.

 

[Mineczka]

"And like that, the fools fall, divided by their own insolence~"​

Speech code: #ffd1dc

The orcs were being quickly dispatched from what Myung-hwa was concerned, they seemed so focused on the fox that kept being an agitating flashy battler, whom they couldn't set eyes on for more than a moment. Skirting and kiting her way around the encampment, it was obvious they chased her to where she was, and not where she was going, not like that would matter, she'd destroy any interceptors anyway. Leading a small faction in circles was fun to the fox, it was like a dance of death, each time they rounded a corner, another died to a trap lain down just seconds before. While said looping wasn't as common as it seemed, it had it's place.

In the meantime, Myung-hwa glanced to the walls, several of the throwers and slingers seemed to have a case of the sudden death, a light laugh came from the fox, who paused in a small nook, her companion had arrived, and done the same as she did, though much quieter. It was nice to have someone like him back up the fox, as, no matter how powerful she was in the realms of magic, she was not one to battle up close and personal. Her plan worked as it was supposed to, with Myung-hwa being no more of a distraction, with the sole purpose to create havoc and allow a much sturdier window for her sneaky and slashy friend, Minoru, who had come to eliminate those the fox didn't already. Even trying to watch for his attacks was difficult, he was blindingly fast, it worried Myung-hwa as she moved around the outpost, her ears flicking and following the sound of a familiar blade through the flesh of orcs.

Letting him deal with the walls, Myung-hwa's orbs were now being used again, as much as her paintbrush was effective, she had other ideas, and needed to get to the meeting point between her companion, launching the orb she had, her hands danced around mildly, changing it's direction, hitting another few orcs multiple times in the process. In doing so, a warm feeling could be felt near her chest, her marble was absorbing the essence of the faltering orcs now, a snicker came across Myung-hwa's face, it was time to stop playing nice, and her brush was to do that.

Reaching the meeting area, it was apparent Minoru soon landed next to Myung-hwa, speaking in his typical low, gravely tone, as a orcish shaman had begun to fall from one of his many thrown weapons, “Time to give the signal,”

"Aye, it'd seem we've caused enough panic" With those words, Myung-hwa's brush reached towards the sky, drawing the same fire symbol again, this time, though, driving her palm forward into the symbol. A crimson glow shortly was seen from the symbol, before forming a ball of fire, leaving a crimson trail behind it as it shot straight into the skies, burning through any mist before erupting into a pure, white light as the ball of fire began to descend. At that point, Myung-hwa looked to her partner, "Let's secure the outpost, I trust you can eliminate any remaining forces, Minoru~?" She remarked, her voice keeping a light, playful tone to her much more straightforward and serious partner, though her point remained, the two needed to ensure that the orcs could not return to the outpost in their retreat from the kill box that Elesis and the General had formed, the last thing that they wanted is a siege...

 

[. D O V E]

Dremnime​

Meanwhile, Dremnime only watched when Kamaria jumped off Mal'ilkari's shoulders. She huffed with amusement as the petite healer weaved her way through a bunch of brawny orcs, some of them even keeling from poison along the way, before flinging her attention back to the young berserker. It was obvious that it wasn't his first time in the rodeo despite his age; he was swatting enemies left and right as if they were nothing but pesky flies. It was a fascinating and delightful display to say the least. Or perhaps she was simply too used to seeing Mal act like a harmless, dumb puppy that he seemed like an entirely different person in the battlefield.

Nevertheless, even a fantastic fighter like him seemed to have his troubles too. Drem raised a brow when he assumed a defensive position; it seemed like the orcs' numbers were starting to overwhelm him.

"Oh my! It appears one of my favorite subjects need help." The necromancer said, peeking over her shoulders to meet the gruesome sight of her undead thralls.

It was certainly an ugly sight; green skin spoiled with fresh wounds and eyes with inhumanely red glow, the lifeless orcs groaned as they clutched their weapons tight, patiently waiting for their master's command. Drem released a short laugh at this, "How feisty. Very well then," she raised a hand to point forward, "Help the big guy."

And with that, the zombies obeyed, their heavy footsteps thundering as they all rushed forward past Mal. Steels collided with fleshes and screams of pain resonated throughout the vicinity. The undead's movements were rash and careless; it wasn't much of a difference when they were still alive but they were clearly in advantage compared to their breathing brethren. It was a bloody carnage; heads rolling, limbs falling, and blood spraying. Nonetheless, Drem's forces only grew bigger while the opposing horde grew thinner. It was like watching a wildfire consuming a forest.

Amidst the choirs of death was the frenzied necromancer's villainous cackling. "YES! YES! MORE! MORE! DIE FOR ME!"

This disturbing scene continued for a few more moments before the last of the living bodies succumbed to its demise. Still, Drem's fun was far from over. If anything, it has just began. Her face brightened with an idea as her lilac eyes locked onto the thicker enemy forces far ahead.

"I want to try something fun." Drem said, shooting a mischievous smirk towards the seven-footer before raising both hands, palms facing her rotting minions.

Lo and behold as they all scurried to stack on top of one another. A dark energy swallowed the monsters and in its wake was an amalgam- countless zombies fused together to form a gigantic, grotesque humanoid. It stood a couple of meters tall, looming over both Drem, Mal and some of the King's forces imposingly. A gust of wind blew their way when the abomination moved its hand towards the two Wings of Valor members.

"Quit gawking and hop on, you silly jumbo~!" Drem giggled as she hastily made her way towards the behemoth and jumped onto its open palm. She was very much excited to see her bright idea in action. She knew for a fact that there was no way Mal was going to say no to her. Who in their right mind would refuse getting hurled by an amalgam to a bunch of war-crazed orcs!?

With that, Drem rubbed her hands together, a worrying grin plastered on her face. "It's Mal time."

AI10100 Dumplingboy

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Aenvhir

Astora spoke of their conditions for this battle, it was heard just before the massive bear had taken off. She was sure enough that kamaria would be taken care of by another member of the force as the trio charge first. Dovahl ran to the battlefield, his strong limbs pounded on the ground like the beating of the war drums that never fail to give excitement to Aenvhir's beating heart.

A wide smile was plastered to her face as she relished of the feeling of the wind slapping her skin. "Are you up for a bit of added sport, Aenvhir?" She smirked at this question, no doubt Astora knew that she would agree to anything when it came to a bet. "I'm willing to bet I can get more of them than you and Dovahl, and bragging rights if you best me. Deal?"

A laugh bellowed from her, "Of course. What am I, if I were to say no to that?" Dovahl seemed to understand this too and roared as he charged into an orc that was then sent flying. "Good boy." Aenvhir said to her white steed before jumping off of him, after Astora.

The other orcs where nearing and for one last time before she puts her blade between the flesh of the Wintertusk, "May the best win, oh and whoever wins buys ale after."

She ran off with Dovahl, her battleaxe swung from one side to the other. Slashing its blade to the orcs like the wild woman that she is. Her bear, on the other hand, smacked one and another together and dived to a group of soldiers.

Aenvhir looked at each of her enemies with a searing gaze. "I'll show you all what it means when you refuse to submit to our Warmother, and the strength one from the tribe of Ìsurbani." One orc charged and only to be met with the blade of her axe to his head.

Twirling herself, she swung her weapon and slashed the mobs with great force the left them bloodied and pushed aside. One orc charged her from behind and threw her to the ground, her battleaxe sliding away from her. The Blood Warrior stood up with a grunt, a frown on her face. "Think I'd go down that easy?" With speed she ran then jumped, her hand at each side of his face. The orc tried to get her off but it was of no use. She was stuck like glue, clawing at his face and ear that it was starting to bleed.

Dovahl made his way to them, picking up them up and over his head. With the momentum, Aenvhir kept her hold on the orc, flipped herself backwards and slammed the orc to the ground.

She laughed boldly and picked up her battleaxe, slamming it's edge once again to the brawn-brained orcs while Dovahl fought from behind her back, their spot packed with blood that splattered from every slash, every chopped head that they made. But there was one thing that she was forgetting, "Ah shit. I forgot to count the damn bodies."

mention: n/a || interaction: Astora The Prophet

 

[Goonfire]

"And like that, the fools fall, divided by their own insolence~"

Speech code: #ffd1dc

The orcs were being quickly dispatched from what Myung-hwa was concerned, they seemed so focused on the fox that kept being an agitating flashy battler, whom they couldn't set eyes on for more than a moment. Skirting and kiting her way around the encampment, it was obvious they chased her to where she was, and not where she was going, not like that would matter, she'd destroy any interceptors anyway. Leading a small faction in circles was fun to the fox, it was like a dance of death, each time they rounded a corner, another died to a trap lain down just seconds before. While said looping wasn't as common as it seemed, it had it's place.

In the meantime, Myung-hwa glanced to the walls, several of the throwers and slingers seemed to have a case of the sudden death, a light laugh came from the fox, who paused in a small nook, her companion had arrived, and done the same as she did, though much quieter. It was nice to have someone like him back up the fox, as, no matter how powerful she was in the realms of magic, she was not one to battle up close and personal. Her plan worked as it was supposed to, with Myung-hwa being no more of a distraction, with the sole purpose to create havoc and allow a much sturdier window for her sneaky and slashy friend, Minoru, who had come to eliminate those the fox didn't already. Even trying to watch for his attacks was difficult, he was blindingly fast, it worried Myung-hwa as she moved around the outpost, her ears flicking and following the sound of a familiar blade through the flesh of orcs.

Letting him deal with the walls, Myung-hwa's orbs were now being used again, as much as her paintbrush was effective, she had other ideas, and needed to get to the meeting point between her companion, launching the orb she had, her hands danced around mildly, changing it's direction, hitting another few orcs multiple times in the process. In doing so, a warm feeling could be felt near her chest, her marble was absorbing the essence of the faltering orcs now, a snicker came across Myung-hwa's face, it was time to stop playing nice, and her brush was to do that.

Reaching the meeting area, it was apparent Minoru soon landed next to Myung-hwa, speaking in his typical low, gravely tone, as a orcish shaman had begun to fall from one of his many thrown weapons, “Time to give the signal,”

"Aye, it'd seem we've caused enough panic" With those words, Myung-hwa's brush reached towards the sky, drawing the same fire symbol again, this time, though, driving her palm forward into the symbol. A crimson glow shortly was seen from the symbol, before forming a ball of fire, leaving a crimson trail behind it as it shot straight into the skies, burning through any mist before erupting into a pure, white light as the ball of fire began to descend. At that point, Myung-hwa looked to her partner, "Let's secure the outpost, I trust you can eliminate any remaining forces, Minoru~?" She remarked, her voice keeping a light, playful tone to her much more straightforward and serious partner, though her point remained, the two needed to ensure that the orcs could not return to the outpost in their retreat from the kill box that Elesis and the General had formed, the last thing that they wanted is a siege...

"Time to panic is a luxury they cannot afford," Minoru simply retorted to his partner. He watched the simple firework streak upwards, signaling the key defensive positions had fallen. Now, the Galarian army had the chance to sweep through with little to no resistance. At least, that was to be the case within the next minute.

Cloaking himself with Onigui's power, the shinobi rushed through the shadows, slithering among the tool sheds, mine carts, and tables to reach the other stretches of the walls. The orcs were clearly aware of the encroaching threat, but they had no clue where and when it would hit them. What they didn't know could definitely hurt them, and it did.

Minoru climbed the guard tower along the palisade, then ran along the wall among the lines of archers. Like dominoes, they toppled. His promise held true; they had no time to raise a weapon to him or even scream, as they met their ends with Onigui cleanly bisecting them. Four corpses hit the ground before Minoru paused. In his peripheral vision, he could also see a faint magic aura emanating from behind a pile of lumber. He vaulted over it, dodging a shocking grasp spell from a waiting shaman. Then, he retrieved a black eggshell from a pouch at his side. The shaman’s guardian lunged from behind, only to get a swift dash of powdered glass and red pepper to the face. The cracked metsubushi egg had enough contents left for another swipe to the caster’s eyes. Both were struck blind and fell over, rolling in the dirt before they were put out of their misery. Precise decapitations.

Minoru took the severed heads and limbs and threw them over the palisades. He turned a crank to open the gate, showing he was all done. A little over two dozen corpses lay strewn about outside the mine. It was suspiciously easy, even for orcs. Had all the strongest commanders went out to the battlefield, or was there at least one wretch still skulking in the shadows? Whatever the case, it warranted a sweep of the area. Minoru signaled for Myung-Hwa to stay alert, just in case his hunch proved correct.

Mineczka

 

[Athanas]

Today was a day of great battle. It was a day of pain, of glory, and of valor. A day where the warriors would prove their mettle, a day when many would die and many more would finally truly live.

A day when suffering would be rewarded. Where Faith would be tested, and ultimately the strongest spirit would triumph.
He had been thinking all these things not half an hour ago. Now he was trudging through the heavy snow, paying no heed to the few confused soldiers that called his way.
A tattered banner could be seen faintly through the fog. Well, seen was a poor word. It was more like he knew the tattered banner was there. He could feel it's magical aura, pulsating through his being.

He ignored the battlecries of the orcs and the wallowing of the mammoths-wait, that wasn't audible. How did he know they had mammoths? He...Had he been here before? He kept trudging towards the banner. He could see it now. It wasn't like the others that the orcs carried around. This was a skull, dripping and covered in blood.

Slaughterborn.
He approached it, slowly. The battlecries were intensifying, but he couldn't let up. Not now. Not while he was so close to this bizzare artifact of a bygone. He slowly extended his hand, aiming to touch it.

"You cannot be serious, Slaughterborn Amunis! For the love of all the Gods and the Ancestors, I beg you, tell me you are joking."
An orc, big, mean, and with a belt practically packed with trophy skulls was saying these words. It was saying them...To him? It looked furious, unhinged, on the verge of attacking. Yet he knew it was not going to.
Battle-brother.
His mouth moved almost of it's own volition. He had no idea what the words meant. Echoes of times past...
"Can't you see, Despoiler? Are you really that blind? The old ways cannot-cannot sustain us any more. We must unite!"
"Unite? UNITE? This isn't unity! This is slavery!"

Deep down, he knew that the Orc was right. He did not believe his own words. He was abandoning his allies for...
He racked his brain. There was a reason. He was sure there was a reason. What...What was it?

"It is a new century, Despoiler. We cannot hold onto dead traditions any longer. This new century~"
He would not have it. The Orc rose, his voice rising to a scream. "THIS NEW CENTURY? THIS NEW CENTURY, AMUNIS? BY THE GODS, STOP. STOP, BEFORE I SMITE YOU WHERE YOU STAND. WHAT "IMRPOVEMENT" DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FIGHTING FOR? FOR WHAT CAUSE?
I SEE THE FUTURE, AMUNIS. I SEE IT AND I WEEP. THE ICEHORNS, THE FROZEN LAKE TRIBES, THE SKULLCRUSHERS-ALL GONE. WITHOUT THE ETERNALS TO ORGANIZE OUR GRAND RAIDS, THEY CANNOT STAND.

SO, BEHOLD , FOR I SHALL SHARE WITH YOU MY VISION OF YOUR "NEW CENTURY", THEN AMUNIS. A WORLD WHERE THE NAMES OF OUR GODS ARE FORGOTTEN, OF OUR ANCESTORS SCORNED. OUR TRADITIONS REPLACED WITH THE FOOLISH NOTIONS OF PEACE AND PROPSERITY. DECADENCE SHALL TAKE HOLD. CORRUPTION SHALL FESTER. THE WEAK AND THE WOMEN SHALL RULE OVER US, NOT THROUGH MIGHT OF BLADE BUT THROUGH SCROLLS AND ALLIANCES. AND THEN, WHEN THE OUTSIDERS STOP FEARING US, AS WE RAID THEM NO LONGER, THEY SHALL COME. AND WE SHALL SEND AN ARMY TO MEET THEM-AN ARMY OF FEMALES, AND GREEN BOYS, AND COWARDLY MAGGOTS. AND THEY SHALL BE CRUSHED AND SO SHALL OUR LEGACY END"

"N-No. NO! You are overreacting! She-She would never allow-"

The vision was cut short by a searing pain all across his chest. He opened his eyes, rapidly refocusing on reality. The banner was gone. The Despoiler was gone. The tents were gone.
But now there was an orc, screaming bloody vengeance as it had plunged a greataxe straight into his chest. If Amunis was but an ordinary man, he would surely be dead, but for the zealot, this was but a flesh wound. His instincts took over, and he took advantage of the Orc's ample surprise at his refusal to keel over. With a mighty warcry, he swung the burden directly into it's skull, smashing it with a watery sound. He turned around, trying to spot the battle lines. Instead, his gaze met another half a dozen of the bastards, Charging right at him.

"THE GODS FAVOR ME, YOU DOGS! FACE ME AND KNOW DESPAIR!" His right hand, now dripping with a bizzare blood-Not his, was raised menacingly. The orcs suddenly founds themselves assaulted by a hail of sizzling droplets, which seemed to cause searing wounds wherever they landed. Two of the Orcs near the epicenter collapses, groaning, as their bodies expelled their blood in a gory fashion, but the rest continued their advance. With a heavy slam his punched through the third one's shield, a second strike annihilating it's ribcage. The fourth bartely managed to get a weak stab in with it's sword before it's blood was drained, beginning to seal up his wounds. The final two also got blows in, but they might as well have been striking a wall-Amunis did not even flinch, powering through their blows and delivering devastating strikes in retaliation.

He did not have time to savor his victory-Almost twenty more of them were closing in on him. He couldn't run back to his lines...But maybe he could try to make his way towards the source of a massive commotion in the midst of their ranks, where many of them had began rising again from to fight their former allies. With a mighty warcry, he charged at them, heedless of the danger.

Minutes later, a disembodied head of an orc was flung at the feet of the group, followed by a very bloodied Amunis. Despite his numerous wounds, he seemed vigorous and powerful. He flashed them a bloody grin, already becoming a little bit more lost in his trance as the time went by. Pointing his now rapidly dripping hand towards one of the mammoths, he channeled once more, this time a spell much more powerful.

One of the mammoth's legs that had gotten close suddenly burst open with a disgusting sounds, bleeding incredibly rapidly. The mammoth quickly lost balance, being sent careening towards the ground, while his wounds healed to a massive degree. He felt a temporary exhaustion set in, but with Drem's undead all around, he could easily retreat back to catch his breath.

Not that he planned to keep his health for long. Viciously beating himself on the back numerous times, he cast a third and final spell twice, pointing first at Mal, then at Drem. Both would feel their main power surge and increase.
"DESTROY OUR FOES, COMPANIONS! SHOW THEM WHAT TRUE POWER MEANS! AND HAVE NO FEAR, FOR I WALK WITH YOU. AND EVEN IF WE DIE, WE DIE BEFORE THE GODS. OUR DEMISE WILL BE GLORIOUSLY MAGNIFICENT!" He seemed truly excited about the prospect of a glorious death. Feeling his strength returned, he charged to where the mammoth had fallen, eager to kill both it and it's dazed riders. With a cackle, he began working his flail like a smith works his hammer, smashing bone and flesh alike, his collar glowing ever more brightly with each blow.


. D O V E AI10100 Lazaro1505 Dumplingboy Colorless Spectrum

 

[The Prophet]

Astora V. Durham

Spoiler: Appearance

Mentions: lazy
Interactions: N/A

Getting Aenvhir to agree to some sport and a bet made Astora smile. Things were much more fun with stakes. And he could agree to ale; he was challenging her with this bet after all.

"Alright. Just don't forget to keep count for both you and Dovahl, and we'll compare once they're all exterminated."

Astora slipped off Dovahl, the soft tap of his shoes sounding before he turned on his heels and flourished his blade. "Now then…" Astora began as the bear and her rider ran off, letting his blade hang low in his left hand as large, raging orcs charged his position. Here it was, the feeling of exhilaration. Either he himself or these orcs would die today, and he knew for certainty that it would not be he. The adrenaline in his body was rising, and both his blade and his own body were reacting as his magic worked its wonders. His muscles tensed as Emperor became lighter, and as the wind blew by you could hear the subtle whistles of it's metallic edge becoming ever sharper.

The orc line were getting ever closer to Astora, and he was now aware of just how much bigger they were than himself. They were tall, hulking barbarians that knew nothing of their fate. Maybe they did, and they saw this as their final, glorious battle. But Astora was not so kind in this dance of death. This would be no battle. This would be a massacre.

In a flash Astora's blade rose to the sky as the first orc came into range and then back to his starting position down at his left. The neanderthal didn't even get the time to react as he was split in two halves verticaly, Astora leaping through the created gap between the beast. "Let's dance!"

By the time the first orc had hit the ground Astora had flitted past to embed his sword in the throat of another, flipping gracefully over them to throw his jagged knife at a far off orc and grip another's bald head harshly as he drained them in a near instant. While the orc was full of life a second earlier; it was now a grey, dried out body devoid of any trace of life save for the now glassy eyes shot open in surprise. It hadn't even the time to feel agony as it's very life force was sucked from its body before it could swing it's warhammer. Astora dropped off the body and grabbed the handle of his longsword as the other body fell next to him, freeing the blade and putting the blade back down by his side. "Orcs taste as terrible as they look." He complained loudly, and glanced forward to an audience of orcs even angrier than prior over the loss of their allies. But it wouldn't matter soon. Showing off his pearly white teeth with a grin, Astora lurched forward and danced into the fray. These grunts weren't a challenge, but they kept things interesting at least.

"Oh, this one had my knife! Splendid." Astora said to no one in particular, as he retrieved his knife from a fallen orc's eye socket, flicking it clean and replacing it in his hidden scabbard. Behind him lie a broken group of orcs slaughtered, their weapons clean of Astora's blood and broken. "That makes 32." He mused, and parried an axe head as he stepped over the body that previously had his dagger. His free hand found the attacking orc's chest with a swift, audibly bone cracking punch where it was quickly drained to a grey mass and dropped dead. "33…..I really do wish they'd taste better."

Looking about above the crowds of orcs and his allies killing them off, he noticed a light take to the sky, likely being the signal being raised from the now defunct defenses. Which meant that the Galarian soldiers were now marching in, and that he had to be careful. He knew nothing of these people's life force, and if he wasn't careful could drain them too. That would be a hassle to explain. Astora suddenly performed a quick pirouette to dodge a thrown mace, throwing his knife at the assailant simultaneously. He probably shouldn't dally like this, he was in a competition after all. Once again Astora flitted forward with unnatural speed, cutting into their ranks with grace and fervor. The sooner they finished this the faster he could be rid of these intolerable scents clouding his senses. He considered using a field spell, but in the middle of this busy field it would be hard to watch for Galarian soldiers, so Astora elected to save his magic for single targets. He could only imagine the earful he'd get from Elesis if he was discoveed to have accidentally killed Galarians. His work was distinctive after all; very few people in Gaia knew life draining magic, and of the two present only he had it refined to such a degree.

"I do wonder if I'm winning right now. Knowing Aenvhir she probably forgot to keep count. Well, I'll find out once we've cleaned up I suppose."

 

[Lazaro1505]

Black Prior

“........The time to repent is over! I will take up arms again. Step out of the shadows and teach them true darkness!"​

The battle........ no massacre has been happening for a couple of minutes now, but within that time, he had been doing what he does best. “Nunc anima tua inferni detractos in novissimis autem pertinet..!” (English translation: Your soul now belongs in the deepest pits of hell now) was able to be heard even amongst the fighting, with a crackling snap following this yell in a strange language. Removing his right foot from the now crushed skull of an Orc, the same murderous smirk and cold empty eyes glued onto his face.

Quickly turning around to face three opponents.... each with a look of murderous intent aimed at the ones who have killed their brethren in battle. He stood still for a few seconds.... looking straight at them, before one of them charged recklessly with an Dane axe, before trying to slice him with a large powerful but reckless swing. His smirk now turning to a frown now, as instead of blocking the attack, he easily parried the attack with his sword, and countering with a overhead sword slice to its shoulder. He then executed the Orc, him removing the sword as the the Orc tried to hit him with its right arm, only for him to use his kite shield’s edge to cut off the limb (still not sure how he is able to do this), then slashes across the Orc’s chest with Truth, then ended the Orc’s life with slicing his Lie’s edges against the Orc’s throat.... ending their life in a brutal way.

Unfortunately... his flashy way of ending someone left him vulnerable to an attack by a second Orc wielding a surprisingly good quality machete, the Orc aiming its strike in his back. The attack would have sliced through his linen clothing and opened a wound on his back, if there wasn’t chain mail to stop the blow from going deeper into his back. But this attack did make him stumble in place a bit, before quickly turning around, his sword in a large swing to the confused Orc. The Orc couldn’t processed what had currently happened before it’s head was disconnected from its spinal cord. The body slowly fell as the last Orc facing him was sweating heavily, seeing how easily Vortiger took down those two orcs with ease. He kept a straight face as he slowly walked towards the Orc..., and in a surprising way, the Orc dropped its sword and began to run away in fear. Raising a brow at this as the Orc ran away from battle, he said quietly in common to himself “Hmm.... these orcs are not even as much of a threat as I originally thought. What a waste of an army if we are just gonna slaughter them like helpless cattle....” before looking back at the battle and returning back to where he belonged.

Likewise, the entire army of orcs was already being taken of by the more powerful of the army here... and it seemed like they didn’t need much help. But just in case anyone needed a boost, he activated Rasalhague, and those in a 30 ft radius would find theirselves be covered in a blue glow, as a dark blue aura was left on their skins and made those who had it, felt more safe. Now..... to return to the battle, as he slowly made his way towards the faltering line of Orcs.

 

[Zariel]

• Elesis Crownguard
• Kaze Hisakawa

• 
  
  
  

  
  ​

  
  Elesis held herself back a moment while the rest charged in—a short prayer to her patron goddess.
  
  "Eltheca, grant me strength," she whispered, finalizing her orison.
  
  In the paladin's ear, a choir of melancholy. Steel clashing. Fervid cries. Screams of the perished. And, soundless footsteps.
  
  Someone had approached the silver-haired knight from behind. "Should we be worried that neither of us seemed surprised by their sudden charge into war? It certainly isn't normal."
  
  Elesis turned around, met with a stunningly youthful face that belied the elf's years. Graceful, elegant, and majestic, it was the only way to describe the wise woman stood before her—Asha'Bellanar.
  
  The paladin shook her head and smiled. "Should we really expect anything less from this nescient bunch?" Elesis said frivolously. "Asha, as always, Fen'Harel proves his worth. But we must keep you safe. Travel south, towards the hills, Kaze should be stationed there, stay with him. I, on the other hand, must now go and exact Galarian justice upon our foes! Calibrum will drown in the blood of the wicked!"
  
  Eighty-four breaths later, Elesis reached the commencement of the chaos. With death-dealing strikes, she ploughed through the orcs, wave after wave. They were like green bags of muscle that stood in her way only to be toppled like dominos—one by one.
  
  A screeching ball of fire rocketed up a lofty height. Its origin seemed like it came directly from the outpost. Elesis watch the flame ascend, and a smile crept onto her visage. Minoru and Myung-Hwa successfully completed their task, good. Now all that's left is to finish off with the orcs that plague this battlefield.
  
  With keen eyes, Elesis was being watched by a band of orcs yearning for blood. The six of them quickly surrounded the paladin, isolating her from her allies. She was inundated. A costly mistake, by the orcs...
  
  Concomitantly, they all swung their klutzy weapons with lethal intent. Each aimed to behead the human. But their weapons came to an unexpected halt, unable to cleave the head from the neck. Only the sharpest axe managed to make a shallow cut. A cohesion of blood seeped through the partitioned flesh and trickled down the paladin's neck.
  
  "Impudent fools," Elesis remarked nonchalantly, her eyes mystically glowing.
  
  It was six against one. She was outnumbered. Perfect. Being outnumbered just makes her tougher. For each enemy opposing her, she becomes that much more resistant to damage. That is Elesis Crownguard's renowned ability, Galarian Fervor—her goddess will not standby and watch her faithful disciple fall against the odds.
  
  With both her hands firmly around the hilt of her sword, Elesis slashed in an arc in front of her, severing the bodies of three orcs into two halves. In a singular motion, she brought the blade over her head and blindly slashed behind, gashing those stood behind her cone of view. Blood gushed out of their exanimated bodies, painting Elesis's silvery armour sanguine.
  
  After witnessing his brethren's demise at Elesis's hands, a seventh orc clutching a bone sword walked towards the paladin with a vengeful gait. He was backed by three shamans, who swayed eerily behind him while chanting something ominous. The orc warrior looked to the sky and opened his mouth, taking one giant breath in. It was as if he sucked the souls out of the shamans' bodies and inhaled them. His body engorged and swelled with foul magic. Filled with rage, and fueled by spellwork, the orc charged fearlessly towards Elesis. Though blocking his attack with Calibrum, Elesis didn't expect the orc to have grown this much stronger, his mighty blow sent Elesis reeling. With his monstrous palm, he grabbed Elesis's skull and squeezed. The silver-haired knight's body writhed in the orc's hand, while he brought their faces closer. Baring his two prominent fangs, the orc opened his maw and roared, expelling copious amounts of saliva and putrid breath.
  
  Huffing, the orc threw Elesis to the ground and was about to hack at her body, when someone else's sword blocked the serrated bone weapon.
  
  "You look like you could use some help," the general smirked, pushing his sword against the orc's before shoulder barging him away.
  
  "I was fine, I like to give my opponents a fighting chance, that's all," Elesis said, rising to her feet and feeling Calibrum in her grasp once again.
  
  "Let me handle this brute," the general insisted.
  
  "Be my guest." Elesis gestured towards orc ten spans and three finger-widths away.
  
  The general smirked at his old friend before his countenance transformed into one of seriousness and hatred when he looked in the direction of the orc. Holding his blade in front of him, the general rushed towards the orc. With adroitness acquired through enduring a lifetime of battle, the general parried each of the orc's attacks, while countering by lacerating various tendons intended to cripple but not kill. He could've killed his opponent at any time, but it was as if the general wanted his opponent to suffer.
  
  "Such a vile name, Wintertusk! It was you wretched beasts that killed my father! He was one of the greatest war generals Galar had seen, he was my hero, and you took him from me! Now, I will make you pay!" the general furiously yelled. Then, in one deleterious half-moon slash, he decapitated the kneeling orc.
  
  Suddenly, while he stopped to observe the felled orc's headless body, something swiped the general from beneath and tightened around his feet. A mammoth had gripped the general with its trunk and tossed him like a ragdoll against a large rock. Elesis stood ready, guarding herself as the creature of war turned towards her. One of the orcs stood atop the Elephantidae threw a spear down at Elesis, but her god-given reflexes let her catch polearm midair and with a twirl, she redirected back at the orc. The weapon pierced the orc's chest and planted itself in his heart. The second orc commandeering the mammoth was about to have his shot but collapsed off the back of the beast when a magic arrow was embedded into his forehead. Elesis looked back, the arrow had come from afar. Kaze, she thought to herself.
  
  Suddenly, the mammoth let out a roaring trumpet and stomped its legs. The creature was angry, agitated and confused. It couldn't distinguish friend from foe. Everyone and everything was its enemy. It flung its hirsute trunk at Elesis, though she leaned back and dodged.
  
  "Easy boy," Elesis held out her palm, attempting to calm the creature but to no avail. It charged right at her. Elesis hastily rolled to the side and could only watch in horror as the rampaging creature started attacking anything that moved.
  
  Nearby, Elesis heard the weak grunts of a dying Galarian soldier. "Gah-Kugh."
  
  The paladin approached the man amid the mayhem and stood at his side.
  
  "Do you give up on life, soldier?" she asked.
  
  "I have been mortally stabbed, my bones have been crushed... I am naught but dead." the soldier replied.
  
  "Tell me your name."
  
  "Daritus."
  
  "Daritus, a splendid name, befitting a soldier who has pledged his sword to Galar. Galarians will always be triumphant. Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war and then seek to win. You, are Galarian. You will be victorious. So tell me again, do you give up, Daritus?"
  
  "I-I..."
  
  "I Elesis Crownguard, believe in you! Galar has put its faith in you! So stand up, and fight! You still have breath!" Elesis impelled, holding out her hand.
  
  "I-I will! I will stand a-and... fight!" the soldier tried to push himself off the ground, finding hope through Elesis's charisma. He reached out for the paladin's hand and she grabbed on, helping him up.
  
  "Excellent, Daritus. Now take this, it will help you." a sphere of Holy Magic had been conjured above Elesis's palm, which she planted in the injured soldier, healing him and restoring his vigour.
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  ​

  
  As calm and serene as the wind itself, Kaze had been watching over the battlefield from above with eagle-eyes. Perfectly poised, Kaze readied his bow and arrow, aiming at those in his range.
  
  Focus. The arrow seeks not to slash nor scratch, but to kill in a single attempt, Kaze told himself. Conjuring a magical arrow from his palm, he aligned the luminesce arrowhead with the eye of an orc. True to his word, his arrow stole life from his target; needless to say, all of Kaze's arrows fly true. Not a single drop of mana was wasted. Each of his arrows was an agent of death, and he shot with the precision of a spider weaving its web.
  
  Patience is a virtue.
  
  Once again, Kaze nocked a charged arrow with an intumescing amount of mana. He waited for the right moment to shoot—an unstoppable arrow, Piercing Wind, that will only dissipate after expending the magic which fuels it. The archer's eyes locked on, seven orcs in perfect alignment. Now! Kaze fired. The arrow soared across the battlefield like a shooting star. In a blink, all seven orcs were torn asunder.
  
  Kaze breathed.
  
  A rotten smell of death and decay reached his nose. The archer whipped his head to the left. Somehow a shaman had gotten close to him. The orc was draped in a tattered black cloak, his skin was completely wrinkled with age and blood dripped from the tips of his fangs.
  
  "Hahaha," the orc laughed like a grizzled man.
  
  Kaze looked at the shaman with utter revulsion.
  
  The shaman slowly twirled his skull staff, invigorating the magical energies stored within. Moments later, he pointed the staff at Kaze and fired several hex bolts at the archer. On reaction, Kaze unsheathed the wakizashi oh his back and slashed horizontally, sending forth a protective wall of wind that blocked the incoming projectiles. Kaze's eyes glowed a bright blue, and a radiant mark appeared on the shaman's neck. With lightning speed, Kaze dashed towards the shaman, who tried to whack him with his staff but Kaze easily evaded. Elegantly, Kaze somersaulted over the shaman and stabbed him in the back of the neck using his wakizashi. The orc had been slain. Its lifeless body fell to the floor and the Windweaver's blade slid out of the corrupt flesh, though stained with blood.
  
  
  
  

Mentions: Goonfire Mineczka
Interactions: LadyOfStars

 

[Dumplingboy]

كاماري
Interactions: Zariel The Prophet Lazaro1505
Mentions: n/a​

Reaching the west side of the battle field Astora’s audible counting was now within earshot. Kneeling down to a soldier bleeding out,he weekly tried to tell her to get out of here, that there was nothing she could do. Placing a gentle touch on his cheek she casted close wound to stop the man from bleeding out further. She stood waving her hand over him and watching his strength regenerate. The next soldier, a woman, was attempting to give Kamaria her dying words. While she went to heal her another crawled towards asking for Kamaria to aid his brother.

They are a talkative bunch….

She stood and helped the man to his feet watching him regain his strength. As he rushed her over to his brother Kamaria held her hand up to calm an irritated Inyoka. The injured troop was sprawled on the ground, hollering in pain.

“Can you help him?”

Kamaria ignored the man going to her knees as she deciphered what was wrong. Feeling the presence of the injured brother still hovering, Inyoka hissed at the man, which was enough encouragement to get him to rejoin the battle. Touching the injured’s face she could tell his jaw was broken. She could fix it, but not like this. Looking up she could see an orc charging at them.

Inyoka!

Kamaria could do nothing but lay across the man and cast her all heal. She watched as Inyoka wrapped himself around the orcs arm and tried to tie them together. It was pointless, Pluto has the strength to pull it off, but Inyoka was torn in half in front of her. As the snake’s body reconstructed the orc dug his axe into Kamaria’s back. She let out a silent scream as the wound healed. As the orc went to take another swing Inyoka bit into it’s ankles. With this momentary distraction, Kamaria dropped her spell allowing her to move. She overturned a rock where a snake was hiding out. Picking it up she flung it at Astora, watching it smack the man in the back of the head. The orc was still standing, thanks to the all heal inyoka’s deadly bite was no more than a painful prick. Watching her pet get kicked away, Kamaria stood trying to stop it but of course was powerless. The orc picked her up by the neck, enjoying the sight of the young healer flailing around as he closed her airways. She scratched at the orc’s arm in a desperate attempt to be released. She then was dropped to the ground. She held her neck for a moment searching the ground for Inyoka who was making his way back to her. Looking up she saw Astora taking care of the orcish brute; relief washing over her. Knowing that she was now under his care she turned back to the injured soldier taking out a small knife from her pouch and slicing his jaw open in two spots. Usually she would try to give him something to numb the pain but she had no time for that. She pulled out a vial of an orange liquid pouring a few drops on the now visible bone of the man’s jaw. This would bond his jaw to wherever she set it at. Inyoka hissed as two orcs were coming their way. Kamaria would briefly look up, but she trusted that Astora had not abandoned her. It would only take a breath of time for the bond to be set; the tendons would be taken care of when she closed the wounds. With the soldier regaining himself, she stayed on her knees as she looked around for where to go next. She ignored the man thanking her and gave him a touch of luck as she stood up. She had not been using her life detect, she knew she would get overwhelmed ,yet she casted it anyway. As she expected her mind was overcome with dying, almost dying, and someone was healing. She picked up her staff and just before she was going to turn it off something caught her attention, snakes, who the hell was attacking snakes. She had asked the wild snakes to only do one thing, and if they had all started to gather that could only mean…

Inyoka! She called the snakes name out again, this time in joy. She was happy to see her slithery friend and shared a brief moment with him but she had to move. Trying to use her life detect in the midst of all this was going to be too taxing on her. Turning it off she tapped Astora’s arm giving him another dose of luck then nodded in acknowledgement as she ran off. She knew he had to be in this direction, her height was acting against her.

“Hey…! I need a healer here right now, the General is not looking too good!”

Ah there. She would run past a Mammoth who paid her no mind and wheeved her way through the battling bodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She ignored the tall man and went to the general’s aid. First thing she would need to do is wake him up. She pulled back the cloth covering her face and would take a swig of a green liquid then transferring it to the general via kiss. This would wake him up at the very least. While he regained consciousness she would start to exam him for whatever injuries he received.