Fantasy Fading Flame (In Character)

[Kabboom]

Ruins

A swift and bold flurry of strikes befell the Beast, compounded within such a small frame of time. The amalgamated pile of flesh and bone barely reacted to the attacks, as if slaved to the whims of its Darkmage handler, who was still indulging in his speech. A hint of pain was displayed, as the Beast slumped on its one ankle, cut by the nimble Maria, followed by an otherwise head-splitting blow from the White Warcry, forcing the monster to its knees, just in time to receive an upward slash from a stampeding oni's axe, severing huge chunks of tendon and muscle from the abdomen upwards, spewing forth blood in excess. The Darkmage could barely respond, as a bolt of frigid ice struck the being's right shoulder plate, throwing him tumbling sideways in a lackluster display of unbalance. The howling and screeching of the duo echoed through the air for but a split second, as they courteously returned the favor.

Swinging around in the same spin, the Darkmage angrily casted an insidious spell, through the vocalized incantations he managed to blurt out. "Sway them! Rend them! Burn them! Darkfire!" A flow of Dark, crimson from the tainted glow of the cane that produced it, struck back at Bron, Aymeline, and all 4 Taryns. Propelled like an unholy lightning bolt, it instantly vaporised the holograms, and put on quite a show as the Darkfire came in contact with Seraphic Halo. Streaks of reddish black serpents hurled themselves at the invisible divine aura that enveloped the adventurers, claws and scales dissolving as quickly as they are reborn, creating a mephitic hole in the bubble of protection.

With its remaining hand, the Darkmage pushed forth a repulsing spell, forcing the two giant-sized adversaries tumbling away, as if smacked away by an unseen house-sized hammer, landing an odd dozen meters away from where they were. The Seraphic Halo that covered the two had been all but destroyed, fading away like seeds from a dandelion, vaporising in infinitessimally small fragments as they continued their movement away from the fight. The Darkfire had also been propelled by the repulsion, coming into contact with Aymeline and Bron physically. The Giantess' armor was a major saving grace, only earning her an obsidian-black mar upon her chainmail, acting as if it were an acidic substance. The same could not be said for the oni, however, as the Darkflame dug deep into the flesh, spreading like the sickly roots of a poisonous tree, all while causing a deep searing pain.

Scraping off the freezing ice on its bone armor, the Darkmage was now calling the shots. "Forth, my daughter! Take their wretched skulls! Blood for the darkened pits! My wardens, strike!" As if on cue, the Beast simply stood up, not paying heed to its injuries, and charging at the two who struck it hardest, bellowing the uncanny cries of a child mingled with the torrential roar of a cornered lion. The Scrappers skittered off, with more reinforcements coming from the rest of the ruined buildings. 10 burst through the door where the rest of the Guardian team are more or less situated, bearing full fang to kill or die trying. From the fog walls, a contingent of ten new Darkborne horrors stepped forth.

[IMG='width:586px;']https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/000/342/255/large/ryan-van-dongen-titan3.jpg?1417988170[/IMG]
​

Monsters that stood as tall as Aymeline on a good day, these supposed 'wardens' bore a fully muscular structure such as the one on the Beast, albeit composed of a more atrophied and subdued grey substance. Their distinctively dark spiked skulls sit uncomfortably atop the beings, glancing around as their limbs holster big cleavers mounted to painfully bent wooden poles. 6 of them immediately charge at Aymeline and Bron, in an effort to defend their Darkmage master, while the other 4 set forth on a wild hunt for the illusive and elusive succubus.

Meanwhile, at the newly-arrived team's wagon, a heated argument occurred. Apparently Maria's appearance didn't help the archer's fighting spirit. Snapping towards the man with the talwar, the Imperial veteran appropriately voiced his concern and uncertainty of the group's risky venture, especially concerning the details of its success, and the survival of its participants, with carefully chosen words. "Aw fuck, there's Guardians here! Hey, fuck you, Salazar, this is beyond my fucking pay grade! Gimme my money, or I swear I'm shooting the both of you fucking-"

His argument was well countered by the man, who had been identified as Salazar. "Button it up! I triple your pay! Now shoot at the bad guys!" That done with, he immediately turned to the Guardian atop their team's wagon. "Well spoken, lady! But help us first!" Salazar's calm voice quickly picked up into a hurried one, as his eyes spotted something approaching from the sun. Not taking a moment to waste, the shield-knight called out the bogeys inbound instead, her eyes expressing fear and courage at the same time. Salazar, in the meantime, had already reached into his wagon to procure a few bottles of suspicious substances. Immediately throwing one at the cluster of inbound Darkwings, the shattered mixture burst into flame and torched half the batch alive, forcing the other batch to scatter and reconsolidate for another attack. "My wagon has valuables, healing potions, big damage! Protect it, and we live!" the man yelled out, before digging into the wagon again.

Things were definitely getting interesting.

QizPizza SilverFlight Midrick Epiphany ShiyaRose Slop Spireshade Unwavering Knight Trappy

Hunting Grounds

Clanus hesitated in his answer for a bit, his eyes darting down towards the ground for but a split second. "Everythin's good, Leafa. I just... had to say g'bye to a few friends o'mine, is all." Standing upwards, he continued, with an arm outstretched. "C'mon, let's get back to the outpost. An' tell me more 'bout yer new pets on the way." He didn't have much experience with children prior to this, but it somehow occurred to him within the moment.

As the two make their way off, Jericho stuck by the men and fished out the crispy foods. It smelt horrible, but at least the guardsmen had some fun doing so, especially when one of the men did an impression of the Rank Commander, using a burnt rabbit's foot to imitate a comical mustache the men seem to fondly picture the viscount with.

-robert-

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron could have laughed as the guardians arrived on the scene. Any help taking out this refuse was good help. The fight seemed a bit unfair now...Too late; before he had even finished thinking it flames erupted all around them. Bron was blasted back by the magic and hit the ground hard. His breath left him, so there was none left to utter in a cry of pain as the fire buried its way through leather and pelt and burned deep into his flesh. A strangled grunt was all he could manage as his skin blistered and bubbled.
"I think things...just got a little more serious." He gasped.
Bron forced himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. The flames had died but his skin continued to burn. There was only one way to stop the foul magic from eating his entire body to ash. Bron's frame grew, he dropped his human form away, great horns sprouted from his brow and a furred muzzle replaced his human face.
He had shifted into his true form: a hulking bull man with fur the colour of red earth. He would have to worry about what people thought of him later.
Bron felt his oni power flowing into him and though the pain of his seared flesh still bit deep, he called upon Stone Skin. His injuries protested greatly, but having the extra armour and his oni strength curbed the sensation a little. By then they were facing more than just the darkmage and a single pet. He cast about for the giantess that had been thrown with him. "Are you well?" He called. "I like to think I'm pretty good...but I might need help for this one!"
Vaguely he heard Salazar barking orders: Keep the beasts away from their supplies. Good call.
"OVER HERE YOU WORM-RIDDLED CORPSES!" Bron bellowed at them, taking a few purposeful steps to meet those that were charging for him. He spread his arms wide as if to welcome them, then his axe was moving, swinging down and up again as he grasped the haft in two hands and made to cleave the first to reach him completely in two.

Kabboom Epiphany

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Confident/Annoyed/In Combat
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Kabboom
Mentioned: Epiphany @Vyseryx @BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight Spireshade Slop

More of them? Just more meatheads to kill...but that Darkmage...they're the real problem... Why do I have to deal with these meatheads? Taryn scowled at the ten rotting giants that were conjured and summoned an set of four holograms that mimicked the group of adventurers. She sent the faux archer, knight, berserker, and Southerner across the ruins, each attempting to gain the attention of the four giants that were not trying to kill Aymeline...and was that an Oni? Things were getting more and more amusing. A Seraphs, a Succubus, a Nephilim, and an Oni all working with the same guardian group. A set up for some terrible joke to be sure. Perhaps the Oni would prove to be a good minion as the members of their race always tended to be.

The four holograms managed to attract the attention of one of the beasts, making it bring its cleaver down on one of them, shattering the stone floor of the cathedral. The smash managed to catch the faux archer in the shockwave, dissolving Light construct, leaving behind a confused warden. At this, the image of the knight stood still and perform some sort of nonsensical chant that Taryn used to generate a brief hologram of a magic circle. The Succubus quickly drew Astaroth and fired a fireball through the circle to give it the appearance that it was the knight that generated the fireball. The orb of flames struck the warden in its face and exploded, into a ball of fire engulfing its face. It was all for naught, as the flames did little more than singe its skin.

The warden immediately retaliated with a swing of its cleaver. Taryn was leapt away at the last possible moment, letting the knight dissolve with the attack from the beast. During another bout of the warden's confusion, the Succubus reloaded her flintlock. The warden that was attempting to kill Taryn managed to draw the attention of yet another warden, who immediately began to lumber over as the other two spread out. She bit her lip as she had the Southerner's visage begin to "cast" two spells. From the two spell circles, Taryn fired her two flintlocks, sending a shard of ice and a fireball at the warden's face. The two shots hit true, with the fireball blinding it for a brief moment while the icicle managed to pierce the warden's eye and freeze the burnt skin on its face.

With a guttural roar, the warden began to flail its cleaver about. Taryn managed to evade the first two swings, but the third struck the ground with enough force to send her flying back. Its consecutive swings make quick work of her holograms, leaving the Succubus laying on the floor without a single hologram to rely on and her invisibility cloak gone...

...As if it would be that easy. The real Succubus left behind a hologram of an unconscious figure that resembled her appearance as she began to scale a pile of rubble right beside the warden. At the pile's summit, the demoness drew her lance, holding it close to the blade, and leapt onto the beast's shoulder. The metal blade of the lance was repeatedly jabbed into the injured eye as the beast roared and flailed. Taryn struggled to keep her grip until the thrashing was too much for her. Stabbing the lance into its eye once more, Taryn let go and was sent back to the ground in a rather unceremonious manner.

She quickly got back up and brushed her hair out of her eyes, taking a look at the corpse and then the other warden that was certain that Taryn was within its reach. That was too much damn effort for just one of these creatures...Let's hope that the second is easier...

 

[ShiyaRose]

Gwenyth
​

Gwenyth smiled a bit when Raethe thanked her, a feeling of pride welling up inside her as she watched him inspect his freshly healed wounds. There was no better feeling in the world than helping one in need, at least that's what Gwenyth thought. Helping others; that's what drove Gwenyth to join the Guardians in the first place. To help the world fight off this evil presence, and to help her people open up their possibilities in the world and finally brave leaving the deep forests they called home. However, none of that would be achieved if Gwenyth perished in these ruins- that thought sobered her up as she followed Raethe down the spiral stairs, listening carefully to what he had to say.

That dreaded feeling, the overwhelming sense of evil, seemed to magnify when they reached the bottom. Fear crept up Gwenyth's spine like little thorny tendrils, wrapping themselves tightly around her and refusing to let go. Well too bad, she was a trained Guardian, she was going to have to ignore that fear.
On second thought, perhaps fear wasn't so bad when faced with that wicked darkmage and it's hideous monster companion.
Fortunately there were many others here too, and they didn't hesitate to engage in combat. Gwenyth inched closer to the action; careful not to get too close lest she might get caught in the crossfire. Gwenyth watched her, what she assumed to be, allies closely. Her magic stirring inside of her, ready to leap into action.
As soon as Gwenyth saw the fire, she retreated further back, not wanting to be anywhere near the flames that would instantly take her life. As a being made from plants, even the smallest of embers would have a devastating effect on her. In attempt to feel safer, Gwenyth casted a small ward around herself; something that would help protect her against any other fire attacks, so long as they weren't directed at her.
Gwenyth noticed a hulking bull-man wielding an axe charging at the enemy, shouting words that she could scarcely understand. He was injured, caught in that terrible fire, and seemed to be using this beast form to repress the pain of those injuries. Gwenyth could help, but not during the thick of battle. No, instead Gwenyth that same ward over the bull-man, so that any other fire attacks would not sear his skin further. Her shields were mainly used to deflect magical attacks, and did little for physical attacks. They could withstand a couple of strong spells before dispersing, and took a good deal of magical energy to cast.
Gwenyth also sent over a wave of soothing magics; not enough to heal him, but enough to relieve some of the damage. Hopefully it would help.
Gwenyth's earthly-brown eyes shone brightly as her magic coiled around her, the fear loosening its grip around her heart. This was what she trained for, she was ready.
SilverFlight Spireshade @ruins

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Terra, Kaatl, Pryonn

"B-Blessing?" Terra stood upright, looking down at the knight who had asked her a peculiar favour. Her slight recoil to the request would be apparent, as her ears twitched time and again to the alien concept. Not wanting to leave the knight waiting for long, Terra managed to mutter a response, trying her best to not make it awkward. "I'm not sure I know how to do that..."

Keeping his helmeted head bowed, gaze directed at his feet as he knelt, Pryonn spoke with a mixture of mirth and excitement “A Lady’s Favor! A boon of splendor! Something to take into battle, something to keep safe - and return at the end, unblemished and sound.” raising his gaze, staring up at her, he added “Just about any item would work - for it is the symbolism that counts. A shred of cloth, precious pebble, a wilted rose - anything quite goes in matters such as this.” Tilting his head, he appended with slight jest “Can you tell why?”

Terra tilted her head as the knight had, while her ears twitched more often as she listened to his introduction of this ‘blessing ritual’ to her. “Why?” She asked. It went without saying that the Incruscan was slow in this regard. Growing up in the Empire’s dark slums, away from proper ‘civilisation’ and living the life of a thief had deprived the young girl of any chances to be properly taught such concepts, or even a lady’s manners, not that it was common for her people to be acquainted to such concepts around these corners anyways. Still, Terra listened.

“Surely you know, my Lady!” spoke the knight, with half-laughter, quixotic excitement ringing brightly in his voice “Of knights who’d sally forth to do battle with dragons and villains! For you see, with his Lady being with him in spirit, a knight can do quite anything - outfly the bird upon the wing, grasp moonlight in his hands! An item with which he can weave a dream, that lovely life might seem! A secret hiding place where he can find his haunting face to light his secret flame!” Now he chuckled, utterly confident in each and every word as he added “Just a sign of care - it can inspire any knight to dare!”

“I see…” Terra replied, her mind still thinking about the knight’s words, and contemplating this new concept of ‘blessing’. Suddenly, a surge of dark powers could be sensed from outside the structure, their malicious intents apparent. This rushed Terra to aid the rest of the group, when suddenly something came across her mind. Hastily looking through the things in her bag, the Incruscan girl retrieved something with her hand. Using the other to turn the chevalier’s palm upwards, Terra gave him the healing crystal from before. While he’d told her that this ‘ritual’ was merely symbolism, the girl wished to do more than just that.

“Here.” She told him as she placed a small, shiny green crystal onto the palm of his gauntlet. The crystal slightly reflects off the cheeky rays of light that had gotten through the structure’s dome above them. “This will heal any injuries you may get until its power runs out, as long as you keep it with you. The more serious the wound, the more power it consumes for the healing process. I cannot say it will help with the pain however…” Terra got through the description as fast as she could, her turning slightly to the side, before it came back at the knight and her eyes locked with the slits of his helm. “That’s why don’t you do anything reckless again, okay?! If anything bad happens to you, I’ll seriously mess you up!”

“This, my Lady...” the knight spoke, sad smile beneath his helm even as he gratefully accepted her boon, thoughtfully eyeing the verdant gem “... is something I can never promise. To be good, one must be bold. To be knight, one must be audacious. And to be Repiner, to be errant, one must be all of these - thricefold!”

Standing up, the knight pressed the crystal against his chestplate, sending a grateful bow in direction of his Lady. Sensing the clear dark surges raging outside amidst the sounds of battle, the trio quickly hurried to aid their comrades.

 

[Midrick]

Pat saw the damage this darkmage could do, unleashing a spell that topped two of their biggest allies with ease, it then summoned 10 monstrous creatures as tall as Aymeline to fight the rest of them. He felt a spark in his mind. It was a familiar feeling to him now, what his old company referred to as his 'black rage' but this was different it was painful, so painful he had his hands up to his head. It felt like someone was hammering molten nails of iron into his skull and brain, all he could hear was the roar of static. A primordial rage burned in his eyes, no coherent thought could deciphered, the nails were driven deeper every minute. His face resembled an animal more than a person, snarling with teeth bared. He sighted the darkmage, and the nails increased in intensity, anger in and excruciating him more. His enraged form sprung toward it. A few scrappers decided to interject themselves in his path, a mistake to say the least, they were thrown out of his way via shoulder charge. Pat ran through them like they were no more than a house of cards. Most were killed from the blunt force of his body weight to their skulls, one was unlucky enough to get up again. He responded by quickly applying a crushing grip to its neck and using his vice like grip to snap it. He resumed his beserking rush towards the darkmage, stopping for nothing or no one, he got closer, the nails were driven even deeper. He could barely feel the cuts and bites he was recieving, the pain in his head was unbearable. He ended his charge with a leap as he brought the axe to bear. He had his hands at the bottom of the hat as he executed the overhead swing, it was he noticed he had been bellowing, half in rage, half in agony. It was enough to curdle the blood of even the most grizzled guardian. The mage saw him, and released a gout of darkfire. He dodged the first barrage easily enough, but the second torrent hit him. The seraphic halo took the brunt of the darkfire, but dissipated afterwards, that was fine... because he had gotten into range of the dark mage.

He leaped and prepared another crushing overhead swing. Another bellow of what could only be described as pure hate sounded, as he brought the axe down full force on the darkmages head. A thunderclap sounded as the armored skull cracked and a red light spilled forth from the fissures poured forth, polluting the air around with foul dark energy. The pain and static in his mind was alleviated as soon as he struck the entity, he was still enraged, but he felt satisfaction st harming something finally. That satisfaction was short lived though, as a wave of darkfire was released. Apparently the mage knew the danger it was in and knew it needed to create separation between itself and Pat. Pat attempted to hold on, but was thrown back by the flames. He landed and rolled to lessen the impact, when he regained his awareness he saw his axe, shattered and unusable next to him. "Your not going to live long enough to regret what you just did you pissant excuse for a mage." he said as another wave of hatred made it's way through his body and mind. Clenched his fists and felt the unexplained power from before flow into him again, he felt himself almost grow, his muscles exuding a terrible strength and ruinous power. His black rage only had more fuel as his eyes flitted back toward the remains of the Las tie to his past. he would've be surprised if the others were beginning to feel the byproducts of his negative abilities going into full effect. It didn't matter anymore, he was hellbent on destroying the mage now, and it undoubtedly could feel the power he was using. Good. he thought, now it would know what was going to kill it.

Kabboom Trappy SilverFlight QizPizza Epiphany Unwavering Knight

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Ridge
Status: Mildly Injured/Very Angry
Disposition: Slightly Good
Interacting With:
Mentioned: (Ridge Group) Sybil Soviet Panda U UnbelievableCow @Albion

Pushing up towards the Rottapults, Audun and Eevie encountered yet another small pack of Darkborne that took them by surprise with their use of tactics. The Nephilim and the Dullahan managed to fight them off, but not before receiving several more minor wounds. Their armor was being dented at every angle by the maws of the Darkborne, but they prevailed and reached the first Dullahan. Audun held the cannon with both arms and aimed it at the first Rottapult. "Dullahan, guard me as I fire!" Once he said these words, the Nephilim fired the cannon off and sent a Light shell straight at the first Rottapult's mouth, hoping to destroy its method of bombarding the battlefield with hellish fire.

 

[Slop]

Erza, the Mad Scholar
Location: Boss Battle Arena​

Naturally, Ezra maintained equanimity as pandemonium unfold before his eyesockets; remaining unhinged and unflinching at the sight of carnage and insanity made material. He made an attempt at rationalising the situation to the best of his ability, accounting the estimated power levels of each and every Darkbourne within his line of vision; the Darkmage and its prodigiously-sized abomination of a pet not exempted, how much light-essence remained within his possession, the respective strength and weakness of each variant of Darkbourne he was up against, the preferred combat technique and tactic of every one of his companions and a myriad of other factors which were disposed of from his mind the picosecond they occupied it - each of which continuously replacing the former as he processed through them all at an inhuman celerity.

How barbaric; exchanging blows until either parties collapse first. A primitive and crude, albeit admittedly at times effective strategy.

...

A peculiar Darkbourne; seemingly sentient to an extent... Fascinating. A phenomena of this calibre engenders the need for further analysis, I say.

Yet again did Ezra's train of thoughts come to an abrupt cessation - this time with Salazar's contribution to the cacophony weighing the air to thank.

Unforeseen occurrences befall us all indeed, Ezra thought ere marveling at his own lapse in perception and failure to acknowledge the wagon's existence entirely.

...

Big damage..? Could you at least refrain from speaking like a kindergartener on acid? How in the seventh sanctum of Oasis is anyone sane supposed to take whatever your source of "big damage" is into account?

Making a conscious effort at contracting his imaginary facial muscles into an expression resembling that of a pouting child's, Ezra proceeded to prudently scan the ongoing chaos before him. Realisation of the fact that circumstances were not exactly favouring his teammates befell the scholar, and he knew what action he took in response was crucial to the outcome of the battle. Of course, the actual outcome of the battle was of little concern to him. It was but more than a mere trifle when juxtaposed to the opportunity to study and analyse a variant of Darkbourne he had never before encountered; like an exotic animal within an eccentric hunter's grasp; a subject worth preserving and marveling at ere the need to exterminate it arise.

Telepathy

"The fumes I will soon excrete are profoundly combustible. Exploit this nature of theirs."

Margot nodded in acceptation to Ezra's offer, maneuvering into her casting stance and cleansing her mind of clutter in preparation for the furious barrage of incendiary spells she was about to unload.

Nigh Toxikinesis

The assertive and almost magisterial slamming of the base of his cane marked the commencement of Ezra's spell. As though they had drilled right through the very fabric of reality itself did mephitic, corrosive nimbi materialise out of thin air. Each of which spiraled like a deathly vortex, fattening themselves with the surrounding air ere transforming into hideous, profane sphere-like collectives of noxious toxin suspended in mid-air; like vile tumors that plague the space-time continuum. A swift motion of the hand was sufficient in activating and send flying the aforementioned lumps of toxic fog; allowing them to waltz off in the air, gracefully corrupting and defiling every trace of what lies beyond the naked eye in their destructive path. Ezra then turned to face Margot, silently implying that he had fulfilled his part of the two-pronged wombo-combo attack they had wordlessly agreed upon. What soon followed truly was a sight to behold. Dazzling, scintillating sparks fizzed from the palms of the pyromancer, gradually increasing in brilliance ere erupting into a furious flurry of hot, passionate, exuberant flames; only to partake in the death waltz Ezra's spell was hosting. Strident, incandescent streaks of fires conflated with the elegant, ribbon-like, malicious miasma; dancing in sync before combusting like a firework of death and disease. A dazzling, magnificent light show that befitted even the most chief of celebrations!

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

The wicked incantation didn't stagger the Giant, it knocked her clean from her feet. She impacted against one of the walls of the ruin and went through it, rolled through another room and smashed in the side of a wall too thick to yield against even her weight. Aymeline coughed out a mixture of dust and blood. She was strong, sturdy, honed in battle but she was also massive enough that a knockdown hurt her a lot more than it would hurt anyone human-sized.

She brushed at the sputtering, sizzling darkflame with mailed gloves before instinctively sensing what she faced in it. Aymeline lacked any talent in manipulating the Dark but she was suffused with the Light. A moment later, it blazed forth from within her, a palpable radiance that flooded through her armor, sinking deep into the chain-links, rendering it inimical to consumption. Then she reached down, lifted the great White Warcry and thundered across the room, pain spiking through her limbs with every movement.

By the time she raced into the chamber, she saw the newcomer sweeping into the enemy and her Guardian allies rallying to fight this most dangerous threat. They were outnumbered, though, and the near dozen adversaries were her size. That would give them an unacceptable advantage in reach. Aymeline knew she had to tie them up as much as she could. And so she didn't slow but sped up until she sprinted right into the midst of the enemy. With a pair going after one ally and another four searching for the succubus, it still left one thickly clustered group...and the original Beast itself. They raised weapons and advanced, expecting to trade blows and get inside her reach.

Aymeline ignored her usual battle tactics in favor of leaping into the air and hurling herself sideways. The White Warcry swung out, turning her near ten feet of height into an almost eighteen feet of Giant-sized battering ram. The great pole-blades of the wardens swung out but only one caught her in time, gashing into her enchanted mail with enough force to pierce the links and stop against a rib. But then, with a cry, Aymeline slammed into all five with all the force a half ton Giant could muster.

It didn't quite meet her expectations. The four wardens were knocked clean off their feet. But the Beast just staggered and Aymeline was the one caught off balance, hurled to the ground. This time, though, the battle was upon her and her roll was a trained, practiced thing that put her back on her feet with the mighty warhammer swinging. As one of the wardens made to rise, the jade-steel composite of the White Warcry swung down and smashed its head clean off its body with a single, brutal blow. The Beast came roaring in and Aymeline again defied expectations, ducking to the side to let it pass instead of meeting it full on. Her warhammer swung up to deflect a mighty swing of one of those monstrous cleavers, catching the blade on the enchanted head. Then Aymeline made her own swing and, though the warden was good enough to block it as she had, its blade wasn't made to cut through the head of the great warhammer. Her weapon, however, was exactly suited to smash right through the haft of its defensively-raised weapon, snapping it half and sundering its ribs with a single colossal hit.

Aymeline kept moving, meeting the remaining two wardens as they rose. This exchange of blows went with lightning speed, for despite the image of giants being slow, ponderous beings, it was only to avoid casually crushing their surroundings. These warriors fought with nothing held back. Aymeline felt a flicker of fear as their brutal, crude attacks slowed her advance, for she knew the Beast would be upon her in moments. The Darkmage had done well to build such constructs but it couldn't build true battle skill anywhere near as quickly. Two-against-one was fierce odds but she'd fought hundreds of foes in a decade of ferocious warfare. Drawing close enough, Aymeline stepped inside the effective range of one of the wardens, shouldered it back while parrying the other's cleaver with her hammer, and then swung the White Warcry all the way around to cave in the side of that warden's head. The spin put her in sight of the charging Beast, with the warden at her back. This time, Aymeline didn't dodge or meet it head-on, exactly. She ducked down, crouched and lunged low, hitting it at the knee-level and sending it sailing over her.

That last warden's cleaver struck her full in the back and Aymeline hit the ground hard, crying out as the mighty blow once more broke the links of her chainmail, cutting a long, ugly gash across her back. Her ribs had stopped it, just. Thankfully, despite the usual size disparity she fought at, this wasn't her first time facing off with something as big (or bigger) than she was. Aymeline didn't let the shock of the injury slow her. Instead, she rolled and then rolled again until she bought herself enough room to rise. Just. The warden and the Beast came in together but this time there was only one weapon that could reach her. The Beast's mighty tusked paws swung and swung again but her steel-jade hammer turned the blows aside, bouncing off one fist to smack the side of that bloody cleaver, fracturing the dull metal. A giant kick staggered the Beast, buying her the moment she needed to again parry the remaining warden's pole-blade with the full force of her White Warcry. The monster's weapon, already, weakened, exploded on impact. To the warden's credit, it seemed to expect it and it meant to tackle her in close range. It didn't count on Giant-powered muscle pushing that warhammer right through the wreckage of the cleaver to meet its face literally head-on. The construct's spike-covered helmet flew right off and it toppled backwards.

And then there was only the Beast. A Beast which knocked her down for the third time with a single punch that went right past her defenses to fracture her shoulder. Aymeline grunted, slid and swung her warhammer with her good arm as she put her whole body into a spin like a top. The White Warcry caught the Beast right behind a knee and dropped it to crash against the ground beside her. Instantly, Aymeline was upon it, gripping her nigh-indestructible artifact weapon in both hands, using the haft to catch it in the throat and press it, grind it into the crushed stone floor of these ancient ruins.

Then its arms caught the warhammer and pushed back. Light answered Aymeline's call, thundering through her as it repelled the monster's Dark nature, strengthening her weapon as the two titans were locked in a struggle only one could win.

 

[SilverFlight]

The attack worked almost as Bron had intended: The blade made it half-way through, incapacitating the foe but not leaving two halves. The pain was catching up to him, and he found his breathing more laboured.
"What was in that fire?" He tried to sound in good spirits, but there was worry creeping into his voice. Suddenly Bron had a sensation: he felt the ward fall into place, and the magic seep into his skin, dulling the burns. He cast about for the source and his eyes landed on a young woman ( ShiyaRose ), clad in the magic of the forest. He had seen very few, but knew her for a Sylvari almost immediately. Bron nodded his thanks, and made a note in his mind, once this was over, to thank her properly.

Bron surged forward with his newfound strength, charging not for the large, brutish construct, but instead for the smaller yet ultimately more deadly mage. This was the source. This demon controlled their attackers. If he could disrupt the magic, perhaps he could help end the fight quickly.
He would be seen running at his target from a good way off, there would be no element of surprise in that, but Bron wasn't all muscle. With every step he could feel his connection to the earth. Those attuned to the subtle shifts created by elemental magic would have felt small vibrations in the ground and rock under their feet.
Bron called on the power and used Earthquake. Stone broke and split before him, running in a straight line right to the darkmage, shattering beneath him, raising the cobbles that supported him. It would be a distraction, but one hopefully that he wasn't expecting. The mage stumbled, body betraying alarm. Bron was in full charge now, barreling toward the enemy, he hefted his axe and drew it back. His footing changed, he stopped short, pouring the momentum of his charge into one mighty swing, aiming the flat of his blade directly at the darkmage's core.
Kabboom

 

[Trappy]

Maria

The panic in the Southerner's voice certainly caught Maria's attention, so did the reactions of several others in this group, as the girl turned to find the the blazing afternoon sun seemingly devoured by a sea of Darkwings - a sight that would haunt any guardsman's dream. A swarm of beasts, mounting in the hundreds coming at them at once, a flood of razor-fanged mouths that would rip and tear them to neat gory shreds, and then feed upon them to sate an insatiable hunger. The Dark-kind's hunger - a curse, given by all the Saints of the Holy Light upon their wretched existence perhaps, as the priests and missionaries say. But would it be a double-edged knife, when it's their world that ended up in the Darkborne's maw?

Enough. No time for sky thoughts - she reminded herself. The new group scurried into formation, hoping to guard themselves and each other against the charging beasts with darkish teeth and claws as sharp as steel forged in Sarmanian winter, or at least die trying. Maria hastily joined them, poised and ready to show these people that she was capable of more than just words. The Southerner - who was identified as Salazar by another in his group, hurled one of the flasks he was holding on him - each holding some suspicious, yet certainly intriguing substance, dark-coloured and visually thick, almost oily. Some kind of toxin perhaps-

FWOOM!

The aforementioned flask ignited, like a sun birthed anew, consuming the swarm in a sea of fire and sending the rest of the flock to scatter as Salazar's retinues and Maria gazed in awe, save for Salazar himself, who promptly urged them to strengthen the defence of the caravan. It did occur to her whatever they were hauling in these wagons to be of such paramount importance, but that will have to come later. Flaming sprites and roasted remains of torched Darkwings were falling upon the grey cathedral yard, blazing orange like leaves of autumn when Maria allowed herself an instant to gaze over and check on her companions' wellbeing. Things were rather grim indeed. The giantess who had allowed her a generous amount of raw Light energy earlier was quite literally knocked clean off her feet, and went crashing into at least several walls before she managed to land, meanwhile, others were also locked in tense combat with gigantic warden-type Darkbornes. The Saints help her, Maria would never doubt her companions for a moment, even the Vileborne Succubus - her skill was something the guardian could not deny, but a fight should never be dragged on for so long. They should be quick, decisive and deadly, evaluate the foe and strike only when the time is ripe, intimidate and deal shock damage, wage lightning-warfare, retreat and repeat. Part of Maria wanted to rush over and aid her comrades, but in the end, the girl had decided not to, not yet, at least.

No one seemed to have noticed the impeding batch of Darkwings, save for Salazar's company and Maria herself, which left Maria to deal with them, lest they sneak up on her comrades from behind while they're too occupied with larger foes. By no means was Maria doubting Salazar and his men's capabilities, she knew better. But aside from the Southerner's neat magic show, and the wild gentleman that had charged at the Darkmage and his minions the moment they acknowledged his presence, she had yet to examine their strengths sufficiently to decide, and as they were beset on many sides by monstrous abominations of the Dark, it was really no time for tests.

Aymeline being knocked into the ruins and crumpled down those ancient walls gave Maria an idea however. The environment was on her side, especially considering Maria's abilities. The planning in her mind drew an apologetic smile on her face, meant for none other than her admirable giant comrade, and if all goes according to plan, the Darkwings will be neutralised in a short while and leave Maria plenty of time to move on and assist others. As the Darkwings reconsolidate their forces and closed in, Maria pulled down the tower of the ruined cathedral onto the flock with a tug. Ancient, mossed stones and wood crumbled easily. Salazar's party stood and watched with their mouths gaped at some invisible rope Maria was using to pull that tower down, but quickly recomposed themselves when they all saw that the guardian could only do so much. A fair few managed to escape the rain of rocks and debris as a tower collapsed onto them, and immediately dived at their prey with such rage and ferocity. A number was pierced clean by the archer's shooting, and others quickly picked their targets as well. Salazar had retrieved a pistol from somewhere among his tightly-packed goods and dropped one Darkwing from the sky - the lead ball had crushed its pitiful skull, and its body quickly disintegrated like its many cousins'.

Four charged at Maria. She saw them and intended to finish them as quickly as she possibly could. Stuck in a gravity field Maria had summoned before herself, the fearless Darkwings were suddenly forced to a halt mid-air, before they were slammed into a nearby wall, then the wall itself came down upon them. Considering the deed done, Maria rushed over to her comrades' aid, when she saw quite a strange sight. Salazar was beside her, running in that strange attire of his that seemed to resemble some sort of dress or ceremonial robe rather than combat garments, all the while hauling a ridiculous pile of flasks without damaging them somehow. Hopping over some obstacles in an almost strange adorable fashion, the Southerner then proceeded to throw two of his flasks, one at Aymeline - who had gotten back on her feet and went on an absolute smashing-spree against those warden Darkborne, and one at the wild-man from his own party. The flasks hit the hard ground beneath their feet, shattered, and released some sort of green-coloured mist that flew in such ways as if they had a will of their own, and surrounded her allies as Maria and Salazar approached them.

Mentioned: Epiphany QizPizza SilverFlight

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl

Battle was on in full force, the Guardians doing their calling's due and exercising their varieties of disciplines upon the various darkborne.

Before the knight's waking eye, the chaos of combat entered orderly states, with the mages, Patricus and an unnamed bull-man focusing their efforts upon the arch-villain. The Succubus went unseen, though her illusory nature would naturally lend itself to exploiting the tumult. Farther away, another - stranger - group had made an arrival of sorts, already under the tutelage of Maria. What drew Pryonn's alerted gaze was the struggle of another comrade. The Giant, Aymeline, cast through ruin-wall and beset by Warden and Beasts - to many a demoralizing sight, seeing such a stalwart soul charred by fell fire before being downed by savage force. And to many more a reinvigorating vision to see her rise again visit unbowed retribution upon foes as gargantuan as her.

Finding it prudent to assist, the knight turned to march to her aid, if it hadn't been for the remaining scrappers choosing just that moment to tear their ways through the wall, seeking to hunt the mage-pair that was pressuring their arch-master. To their ferocious, alien minds, all that stood in their path was a single armored figure, a minor threat to be swarmed with expedience before the main targets were to be consumed.

Pryonn craned his neck, assessing that newcomers were unlikely to add themselves to the encroaching horde before him, before calmly putting his flail away, banner-spear hefted in matter-of-factly marching-manner. "Kaatl." he spoke conversationally, walking with unimpeded harmony towards the skittering swarm "Please sing. Quietly."

The fairy registered the request with an impassive stare, one dainty hand set upon her chest whilst the other rose in the manner of an opera-singer. The fairy's mouth opened, yet no sound came, even as her body lightly swayed with a silent tune and her lips intoned a quiet piece. All else that hinted at her action was a light green glow emanating from her upraised hand, appearing as a simple healing-cantrip to any expert mage-mind that could spare the moment to 'listen' in. Yet, its direction, its usage, was wholly different from the predicted purpose...

"Come now, beasts." the knight spoke, free hand beckoning for the creatures as he calmly walked towards them "Your ilk failed twice before, why not make it thrice? I have comrades to aid, let's make this quick."

The hissing, skittering horde, seeing the foolish duo so easily exposed, didn't hesitate and immediately swarmed the knight, intent on cutting the offending obstacle down and charge on. Undeterred, the knight simply kept his placid pace, striding into the onrushing foes, who greeted him with blade-limbs ready, striking down with unremitting force, insectoid forms surrounding the knight from all sides. The fairy, still sitting and 'singing' atop the knight's shoulder, emitted a single, ear-piercing sound, harsh and ugly, akin to metal screeching across graphite. In an instant, Pryonn's steel-suit became the epicenter of a storm, an onslaught of ear-shattering sounds overtuning the confused scrapper-hisses. Shrapnel, iron-fragments and rust-enriched bloodvessels were fired off with the force of a fragmentation-grenade planted in the very center of the darkborne horde, the creatures ripped to shreds even as the knight merrily waded onwards without skipping a beat, leaving twitching, screeching bodies in his wake.

The last of the monsters fell, body torn and barely keeping in a singular piece before it faded into foul essence. The knight cared not to spare a glance to the fallen, the fairy on his shoulder ceasing her posture as she slumped over in exhaustion, leaning against the knight's helm for support.

With the way free, Pryonn broke into a full run, aiming for the struggling Beast-and-Aymeline match with lance held in both hands. "Ho now, foe! Brace yourself, for at you comes the knight of woeful countenance!" he called, actively trying to alert the monster to his onrush "Charging at a busied foe from the back is no knightly conduct, but threaten my fellow worthies and you will taste my wrath!"

Kabboom Epiphany

 

[Kabboom]

Ruins

In mere moments, the Darkmage had been struck on the head with an angry berserker, flipped off of even footing by a Guardian's tricks, and subsequently batted by the blunt side of an angry oni's axe, sending him crashing through a particular section of the cathedral's already-crumbling ruins; the Beast had been wrestled around with like a child, and is now locked in a life-and-death tussle with a veteran Giantess of the Meriward Campaign; the Darkwing horde had gone from being a horde to being a flock, with the devastating effect of Salazar's fire bomb potion things, and the cathedral bell tower that Maria brought down upon them; the Scrappers were all but annihilated by a dashing knight in shining armor, valiantly defending their vulnerable party from the preying scavengers; the Deathwardens have been vanquished for the time being, with only 3 remaining, in search of an illusive succubus. All of this had happened, while a neat combo of noxious fumes igniting in sparkly flame engulfed the vile Darkborne creatures, making them even worse.

Such confluence and skill. Pity that they weren't enough.

Cris, the owl-man, had played a secondary lookout role, waving through the airs above in his avian visage, giving eyes-on on everything beneath the sun. What he saw was a grim situation: the fog wall extended for what seemed to be miles, though he knew it couldn't possibly be true: the outpost guards would've been able to see this, and yet they weren't responding. Given what he's known of the eccentric men of the outpost, they would've definitely sent out reinforcements. Perhaps it was an illusion of some sort, a festering lie imprinting itself upon his eyes? No matter, for Cris had spotted something far more urgent: through the cracked roof tiles of the once-cathedral, he saw nothing but blackness, the iconic oozing night-shade of the Dark. Whatever was in there, it wasn't good, and with the way it pulsed tentatively when the Darkmage was smashed through its interior suggested that more nefarious forces will join the fray soon.

Swooping down low and accelerating hard, Cris was on an attack vector, directly behind the dazed Darkwing flock. With lightning-fast timing, he shifted into his human form, his loosened fingers flinging out an array of steel darts as he drew his dirks, and slammed into the flock, passing through with a skewered Darkwing on each blade. That done, he'd sheathed his dirk, with Darkwing 'flesh' being partly squished down the scabbard as well, and returned to his owl form before he'd even lost any momentum or altitude. Continuing his swing, he splayed his wings and slowed down, landing on a rooftop next to Maria and the wagon. "Dark within church. Use caution!" was all he could blurt out, before he briefly collapsed from the exertion. As a proud Sova tribesman, this would not do: he must be stronger than this. But for now, he must rest, even if for a few seconds.

Raethe Malethkith had been up to something else. Immediately breaking with his allies, he made his way towards the newcomer wagon, trying to hastily investigate this unexpected factor in the current dilemma. But his calculating mind had come to a conclusion, a conclusion that left him standing on the road, equidistant to his teammates and the wagon; Aymeline and the... angry oni one, they were hurt badly by their current scuffle with the troublesome Darkspawn. Using his Fleshshaping, Raethe did his best from such a distance to patch up the Giantess' gashing wounds - the other big guy was currently under Darkfire damage, and that is not something his flesh powers can defeat - and Aymeline's fractured shoulder was now not as fractured as it was before. Next, a few of the Beast's arm muscles seemingly burst at random, like a guitar's strings snapping, thanks to Fleshwringing. He would've preferred that the whole arm went, but he wasn't going to waste time getting closer. Having done his worth, Raethe continued to hasten towards the wagon.

All in all, the party members are doing good: Bron's scathing wounds have been dulled and extinguished by Gwenyth's healing magic, and the two brutish brawlers' skins begun worming their way back together slowly, as if their natural healing processes had been sped up by a few months per second. It resulted in some major pain, as Giant and Oni bodies are not known to be... adaptive to Libios magic vials, but Salazar's potions had done their work. Whatever damage Aymeline had sustained had almost been fully healed, with her shoulder doing good, and her two gashing wounds reduced to two dripping wounds; the fresh burnt tissue resting on Bron's body simmered and almost calcified, as its healing process advanced unnaturally to some sort of scab-riddled tissue.

A howl echoed through the ruins immediately after. One that brewed with anger, and boiled with hate. Beams of Dark energy soon shot out of the church, headed towards all Dark entities on the battlefield. The slain had been reabsorbed, recomposed within the church; the living had been galvanized, revitalized. A Warden with a few cracked ribs was 'refilled', along with another one that had been cleaved in two by the oni, and the two rose again, this time being a whole head taller than the Giantess. The Darkwings flew into the church, as if under a command from the higher-ups, chittering loudly. The three Wardens who had originally gone out for Taryn had now returned, emerging from around the corner in a dead sprint towards the square.

The Beast's snapped arm veins healed nicely enough, and its gaping maw seemed to have opened wider for just one bit, before displaying an uncharacteristic talent for acrobatics, as it managed to stand up despite having one whole angry Aymeline pressing on top of it, and... did a flip. Lifting both its legs up and forward, the abomination howled as it swung its legs backwards, and used the momentum to fling both the White Warcry, and Aymeline, ahead of it as its arms came down to protect its face from the cobblestone. The Giantess had been sent flying about a few meters ahead of it, and by the time her steel made contact with the ground, the Beast was already up on its feet and charging again. But this time, it had a different target: Pat.

All of the black rage in the world wouldn't have been able to protect the berserker from the right hook the Beast delivered, though it did boost Pat's strength enough to not be pulverized on impact. The man was still very much alive, yes, but he'd barely escaped death with that earth-splitting strike. Grievous damage had been dealt to his armor, which had taken the brunt of the blow, and a fair few ribs are probably not feeling so good. The Beast then continued its charge, switching towards its ultimate target: Pryonn and the juicy mages that stood behind him, completely ignoring the shield-knightess that immediately rushed forward to recover the winded and wounded Pat.

The cathedral doors swung open, along with a bellowing cry from the angry Darkmage. "Nur fda!" it bellowed, swinging its magic cane like a fighting stick, whirling forth a spell at the apex of its swing. The Darkwings' fate had become clear, as their gaping maws now screeched at the forefront of 3 small fireballs, completely black in their nature, and flying in the way Darkwings fly. The three fireballs emitted a screeching hiss as they shot towards Bron, all impacting dead center and exploding, sending the oni backwards. With another swing, three more fireballs were sent towards Aymeline this time, their hissing foreshadowing the great pain she'll receive when these things hit her. If they hit her, that is.

QizPizza SilverFlight Midrick Epiphany ShiyaRose Slop Spireshade Unwavering Knight Trappy

The Warp ooOOOooOOO
jk it's the Ridge

Audun's cannon shell flew straight and true - something almost unheard of from hand-held Imperial cannons - and smashed right into the Rottapult's brewing mouth, with a sickening crunch as the steel ball crushed its delicate 'muscles'. The creature howled in pain, rearing onto its hind legs despite the almost impossible weight on its back, and promptly dropped dead. The shot dealt enough damage to the right place, it seemed, as its internal... 'organs', if one could call the insides of Darkborne that, begun to collapse and sizzle, as the unstable biochemical concoction that crafted the fireballs now ran rampant, culminating in an explosion as the Rottapult's bits went all over the forest. Its brethren soon devolved into some sort of stampeding herd, and are now trying to turn tail and run, a feat not aided by their clumsiness.

The remainder of the Runners who'd been harassing Buras have been more or less eliminated, with the last pesky ones eliminated via the horseman and his squire, and the Inuin was now left to run unimpeded. The dullahan swiftly casted her Complete Healing Magic aura, and hastily ran towards Buras' position. Briefly coming in range of her healing magics, Buras' gashes begun to heal, albeit at a snail's pace. Eevie had hoped to make it through this mission without using any of her healing spells, but everyone knows that was just wishful thinking.

Running up from behind, however, was Desmond Mirith. The human warrior had snapped out of his little fear-trance, with some strong suggestive help coming from the Runners that had ambushed him. Cloud Step activated, he ducked and weaved through the trees, narrowly escaping the talons and fangs of the Dark-beasts coming up behind him. One manages to catch up, but its attacks pass through him as if he were a gaseous entity. His ability had that quirk, but only for the first attack. The next time the beasts pounce, he won't be so lucky.

Spessartite Phos was not in such a vulnerable position. Simply harassed by the Runners' futile surface attacks, all she had to do was open up a few holes in the ground, let a Runner fall into it, and crush the disgusting little thing. Two Runners died the first time, their yelping barks extinguished by a crushing rock-lady smushing them against the dirt. That was enough to send the others routing away into the forest.

Suddenly, a Deathwarden appeared from behind a tree. How long it had been standing there idly, no one knows, but it had stood there next to the Rottapult firing line for a while now, and its muscles almost reverberated with anticipating bloodshed as it made itself present, facing off against a charging Buras Ur'ull. Its cleaver in full swing, the blade had the Inuin's name written all over it, as it flung itself towards his head. The Warden's plan was all revealed: it was here to deal a blow to any hapless charging adventurers and buy time for the Rottapults. Such a maneuver left little room for the half-Giant to maneuver, but he has been known to defy expectations. Let's hope he does it again this time.

U UnbelievableCow QizPizza Sybil Soviet Panda

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

It was clear as day that Clanus was not stable. Even the simple mind of the elven child could see it: his body language, the shakiness and sadness in his voice... everything was far from good. Clanus could not be considered just a simple acquaintance, he had at least earned the title of `friend´... and seeing him in such a fragile state left her absolutely heartbroken... she couldn't sit back any longer. The silence between them had gone on for too long, it was more than time to break it. And so she did. "Hey... wait up. Can I... talk to you?"

"You know you can trust me... right? I know we've only met eachother like... yesterday, but when I'm with you... I can't describe it... I feel... more than happy. Rock-Lady, Yellow-Hair... they give me the same feeling too... I- ... uh, forget that! Let's move on..."

The young elf paused for a moment, and took a deep breath, recomposing herself.

"Look... you... you can't be sad! Saying goodbye is devastating... and it hurts a lot... but... but you can't just give up and shut down! Look at all the wonderful things around you, the beautiful flowers, the cute animals, the fluffy clouds... if you're all mushy like that, you're going to miss out on everything!"

Immediately after she finished her phrase, she got on her tippy toes and gave the taller man a very tight hug. "So stay happy... okay?"

Kabboom

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl

The knight reacted quickly to the new battle-development; the oncharging Beast aiming for the group's mages with him the only obstacle in its path. Carefully setting down the exhausted Kaatl on an out-of-the-way ruin-wall, Pryonn gave the incredulous fairy a friendly wave before putting himself firmly in the Beast's path.

"Little cousin, young as you are, I can forgive your ignorance." Pryonn spoke, his voice tender with amiability as the ground shook and boomed beneath the Beast's brachial onrush "But, understand," Ramming the butt of his lance into the ground before him, both hands grasping the shaft, the knight fortified the spear "I am knight Repiner." The lance's iron-tip tapered further at the end, turning to stiletto-fine sharpness "Early are we made to learn: Tear our flesh, and we will break your bone." the iron-blade thickened towards the base, intent on exploiting the tip's needle-sting "Break our bone, and we will take your life."

Readied thus, the knight raised his spear one more time in greetings towards the Beast "I thank you, cousin, for granting one of knighthood's greatest callings." Lowering his spear to waist-height, Pryonn responded to the Beast's onrush with the only way a proper knight would: "To charge a giant, helm unbowed and lance held straight!" Breaking into his own all-out assault, Pryonn blitzed towards the monster, intent on sidestepping whatever attack it would launch, but focus first and foremost on his prized task: To ram his lance into its knee and explode it from the inside.

Kabboom

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron took only a moment to watch with great satisfaction as the dark mage was knocked bodily from the building by his strike. He turned soon after, casting about for his next target in the din of the battle. He noticed his burns heal further, no doubt the effect of Salazar's potions. The man was good, Bron had to give him credit.
He watched the great construct charge. Everywhere around him people were locked in combat, but the armoured knight was facing the creature that had tossed a giant like a rag doll. He didn't like those odds. Bron started forward, aiming to even them out when suddenly the doors burst open. The dark and alien speech reached his ears just as he saw the cloud of monsters congeal into a new spell. The fire ignited and hurtled toward him.
"Oh come on." Was all he had time to say.
He summoned his stone skin to blunt the damage, but even so the attack knocked him backward again. Bron crashed into a crumbling wall, reducing the rest of it to rubble.
"The floor is getting all too familiar." He groaned loudly as he chucked pieces of limestone out of his lap and got unsteadily to his hooves. Even with his added protection his hackles were singed and smoking. The tuft of hair under his muzzle and been burned clean off and his eyebrows were now several shades darker.
Bron glared about him. The dark mage would fall, but first he should make sure that knight didn't become tinned jelly. He reached out with his magic, splintered the stone in front of the beast, creating jagged, broken pieces that would destroy its agility. It would have no choice but to take Pryonn's attack, exactly as the knight intended it...hopefully.

Not waiting to see the outcome of his tampering, Bron turned again to the mage.
"Right. I'm getting tired of being set on fire!" He hefted his axe, knowing that the same trick likely wouldn't work twice. Instead, he aimed for taunting the enemy, diverting his attention so his allies could regroup and strike him while his focus was elsewhere.
"You! Still hiding behind magic tricks? You're not going to kill me with those candle flames. I bet you couldn't strike me with a real blow!"
Kabboom Unwavering Knight

 

[Soviet Panda]

The gashes on his back did little more than scab over when the wave of magic hit. Buras felt drained, yet refreshed at the same time. No longer was he being bled dry, and a quick wipe on his leg got rid of the blood that threatened to have his axes slipping from his hands with each swing. Roaring his inevitable triumph as the last of the Runners were dealt with, he sprinted at the stampeding Rotapults. So intent was he that he nearly missed the Death Warden stepping out from behind the trees. The soft glint of light on metal was what alerted the Inuin to the impending doom the Darkborne wished to bring upon him.

Dropping a leg and raising his axes, he managed to just barely deflect the large clever before it buried itself in his chest. Instead, the massive weapon lodged itself into a tree, giving Buras time to get back to his feet. But truth be told he did little more than flip over and begin his charge anew, though this time towards the Death Warden. With a ferocious war cry, he leaped at the creature, only to be swatted away like an annoying bug by one of the creatures arms before it wrenched it's weapon out of the tree, toppling the tree in the process. This fight would be interesting, to say the least, if it could throw an Inuin around like a toy.

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Ridge
Status: Mildly Injured/Very Angry
Disposition: Slightly Good
Interacting With:
Mentioned: (Ridge Group) Sybil Soviet Panda U UnbelievableCow @Albion

As the Rotapults began their chaotic scatter across the ridge, the Nephilim loaded the second to last shell into his cannon. This was done, of course, while evading the erupting flames from the first Rotapult that he had slain with a single shot from the cannon. He was half tempted to keep this cannon for his cloak. The firepower that he wielded was far more effective at dispatching larger Darkborne than simply swords or a lance. On the other hand, the metal contraption was absurdly heavy and cumbersome, not to mention the need to reload after shot. A pain in the arse, but needed for this mission. Audun ran in pursuit of the Rotapults, taking a wild aim at one of the running Darkborne and opened fire.

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Confident/Annoyed/In Combat
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Kabboom
Mentioned: Epiphany @Vyseryx @BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight Spireshade Slop

After bringing down but one of the Wardens searching for her, they ran back to the main site of the battle. Darkbeasts had no reason to fear a Vileborn, much less a trickster like Taryn, so it can only mean that their master had recalled them for reinforcements. So, in the eyes of the Dark Mage, the rest of the part was more important that a single Succubus? And she was starting to feel flattered that she warranted four of such brutes to kill her when the mage left six between all the others. That meant that the Guardians had dispatched the wardens far faster than the Dark Mage had anticipated. Why let them have all the fun and glory? At the very least, she would have to kill a majority of her quarry before allow the rest to touch them.

The Succubus temporarily dropped her invisibility and sprinted back over to the square, following right on the the Wardens' heels before allowing a hologram to take her place as she leapt up and began to clamber up a building's wall to be able to obtain an advantage in visibility. The giantess Aymeline was locked in battle with the original Dark Beast, while the adventures that had the misfortune to stumble upon a battle between the Guardians and a Dark Mage were supporting the Guardians to the best of their ability. As for the Oni, he had revealed his demon form already and gone on a rampage. What's to say that the Guardians would think any less of Taryn for saving a bit of her Light and dropping her visual illusion. With a simple incantation, the Succubus returned to her half-demon, half-human visage, with flowing white hair, yellow eyes, and the other telltale signs of a demon such as claws and horns.

Taryn's face broke into a scowl as she pointed Azrael at the foot of the nearest Warden and fired away, sending a ball of ice at the giant's foot as opposed to the icicle it was firing earlier. As this sphere of swirling ice struck the foot of the Warden, it exploded into an icy mist that froze the vapor in a small radius, causing the rotting flesh of the Warden to crack and held in place until the Darkborne attempted to take another step. At that point, the flesh shattered like glass and the Warden tumbled over as its brothers took notice.

With the other two Wardens now aware of Taryn's presence, she created two more holograms, both of which danced around the Wardens along with the previous one as Taryn threw her lance at the head of fallen one, with its blade impaling its skull and ending the false life breathed into it by the Dark Mage. As for the other two, they wasted their efforts trying to swipe at the holograms with their massive cleavers, failing every time until their creator was able to turn her attention to the survivors. The Succubus holstered Azrael and held Astaroth in her right hand as she leapt off the roof where she stood and onto the lance that impaled the fallen Warden, which she used to propel herself so that she was able to cling onto the back of a flailing Warden. As the Darkborne attempted to throw her off, the Succubus held tight, until she had the opportunity to bring her flintlock to the mouth of the Warden.

A simple squeeze of the flintlock shot a fireball the almost instantly exploded within the confines of the Warden's skull, melting flesh and charring bone until it also fell dead to a crippling strike to the head. Taryn let go of the Warden fell down to the ground in a rather ungraceful fashion, before bringing her cloak of invisibility once again and sending her holograms out to harass the final Warden. The battle was going on for quite long, and her reserves of Light were being used up far faster than they had ever been used before. This Dark Mage is too much trouble for what its worth. All of their beasts are a pain. Three beasts wasted a good portion of my Light. Not even the mage themselves...

 

[Slop]

Ezra, the Mad Scholar
Location: Still at the Boss Battle Arena; by the Wagon​

Having realised that the combined efforts of his fellow Guardians were ultimately going to be in vain, and that the tactics employed hitherto were at best inefficient, Ezra took it upon himself to yet again scan his vicinity - allowing unforeseen forces to guide his nonexistent retinas across the madness unfolding before him. Realisation of the fact that Salazar's contribution to the Guardians' endeavour at regulating the Darkbourne were of optimum efficiency swiftly followed him scrounging effortlessly through the back of his mind for an acceptable compromise.

Spell Duplication

Message

"We are to fortify our defenses in a prudential and effective manner, lest we shall be at the mercy of these paragons of mindless barbarity and hideosity. Comrades, let us foregather at the wagon - swiftly; comme le vent!"

The situation at hand was, albeit not dire, at best cumbersome in nature; for he has his role in the battlefield to aid in ensuring the safety of his companions as well as his mad obsession with and urge to preserve, study and analyse the exotic Darkbournes before him that just so happened to be a spellcasting, heinous manifestation of nightmares and vileness, and a ghoulish, abominable, mobile culmination of rotting, defiled flesh for as long as circumstances allowed to juggle. Nonetheless, assuming no lapse in calculation were made, a few minutes worth of stalling is unlikely to put the Guardians in critical jeopardy.

Blink

Greater Barrier

Enchant; Protection from Evil

Spending an amount of light essence that slightly exceeded his self-established allowance altered his disposition ever so slightly for the worse, but the thought of potentially unraveling the mysteries, secrets and inner-workings of the Dark and reaping the wealth of knowledge and benefits that lies therein afforded him some semblance of temporary abatement.

 

[Kabboom]

Jericho (hes back bois)

The guardsmen were at least quick in their actions. Jericho really hated having to play the strict commander Guardian, but bitter experience has told him that it's the most effective and effortless way to get guardsmen to do anything. With the amount of discipline slapped into these guys, a barking officer's words register better than some harmonious romanticized superpower-teen's.

With that out of the way, it was time for them to head back, perhaps. The devout churchgirl, Anna, was now busy hauling the remaining charred spoils of the hunt out of a dead Cavity's maw, and with how effortlessly she has been lifting out those chunks of fried flesh, she can do it all on her own. But best not to leave her like that. Audaton assigned two men to her aid, and the rest of them went back to the outpost. Leafa hugging Clanus was a bit surprising, and comical, to say the least. A petite frame and a weirdly innocent mind wrapping her arms tightly around a gruff farmboy Scoutsman is just one of the many things in life that don't look right to the average mind, but it was probably for the best. Clanus is a tough soldier, and Jericho is confident that he'll pull through on this quest.

Suddenly, the distant cries of the outpost lookouts could be heard. "Darkmage! Darkmage! Near the ruins!" repeated the hoarse voices of the weary swordsmen, peeking their heads above the emplacements and bracing against the wind. Collectively, everyone's pace hastened up: the elf Skyler and her pet dwarf dragon were the fastest, being arguably the least armored members out of the bunch; following closely behind was Clanus, who was holding Leafa's hand and dragging her alongside him, her elfling legs barely being able to keep up with the wide human strides; and Jericho, along with the rest of the weary and probably shit-stained guardsmen all running in a collective mass back into the confines of the outpost wall.

Lieutenant Finn was quickly descending down the main stairway, primed with the officer instinct to brief the commander immediately. "Spotters caught sight of some sort of fog-wall illusion spell, near where the ruins should be. The spell's been active for probably 10 minutes now, but it's only recently come into view. Confirmed Darkmage within the area. It's Dark, sir." Terse, yet tense. But Jericho was more than prepared for situations like these. The reply and requisition came soon enough.

"I'm going out there. Get me 20 men, and horses for all of them. Spears, shields, and ranged only, the swordsmen won't accomplish anything. Don't bother with food, tell 'em to pack potions and magic suppression bombs. Go." Audaton rapid-fired the requests, with Finn taking in everything fully. They had the attention of the entire outpost now, and Jericho spared no time by making his words loud enough for everyone on the first wall to hear. As intended, Scully sprang into action, pulling out a sack of equipment out of the confines of his room, while everyone else got up and about, with individual guardsmen's names being hollered about. Finn erupted in a dead sprint upstairs, while Jericho quickly rounded up the members of his own Guardian party.

Within barely a minute, a full combat party had been assembled. The horses were reeled out of their stables, their hooves clopping on the ground in anticipation. They were led towards twenty men, armed with an assortment of spears, shields and various ranged weapons, had assembled themselves neatly in two rows, with Lieutenant Finn standing at the lead with his two-handed axe. The men clambered onto the horses, their fastened potions clinking against their buddies' armor pieces; the outpost men only have a few well-conditioned armor plates in their inventory, belonging to the third floor guardsmen, who don't really encounter that much fighting at all - those men were more than willing to give their plates away for temporary use in this battle, though with such an imposing figure as Finn, one must wonder how willing those men actually were. But no matter.

Sparing them a lengthy and time-consuming briefing, Jericho simply used Experience Drip. Within seconds, everyone within the combat group had gotten the full thought process of the Guardian leader. Idea: Darkmage threat, semi-urban area with large expanses, high level Darkborne present (most likely: Deathwarden, Maulfanger, Dreadpack), fog wall illusion spell defense wall. Plan: penetrate wall, establish perimeter, consolidate with allies, shield mages and healers, suppress Darkmage magic, eliminate Darkborne from distance. Avoid: cavalry charge into high level Darkborne, cavalry charge into Darkmage, infantry charge into high level Darkborne, Darkborne magic spells, pride, underestimation. Conclude briefing.

With that out of the way, Jericho climbed onto his own Wolfhorse, quickly grabbing a buckler from the nearby Scully. With a silent salute of good fortune from every soldier in the outpost save for the viscount, the group set off. In a single file, the horses barely squeeze through the entrance, and do a full jump over the staircase below, and impact the dirt with ease. In single file, the combat group set off. The horses neighed playfully among each other, as their sporadic clopping hooves soon coalesced into a single staccato of metal horseshoes impacting against dirt. Their riders, however, were dead serious: they all understood what anti-Darkmage combat meant. One way or another, someone is gonna die.

This troubled Jericho the most. He couldn't bring the Giant Gaheris, or Tharek, with him - their size and inability to get on a horse means they'll just arrive too late to be of any major use - which was a major blow to his personal morale. Not having any Giant in the fight against a Darkmage was a bad idea among bad ideas, but there was no time. What he actually had was a mixed bag: the archer, Erik, was a valuable asset, as was Esta Faeven, who was bobbing uncontrollably atop her horse. But the others weren't actually that good in a fight, combat-wise. His biggest concerns were Lunala and Leafa. The mage-girl had the best plates on her, but her complete inexperience may prove fatal, and as for the elfling... she's too young for this type of fatal business.

All the more reason to fight harder, thought Jericho. And with that, he stowed away his worrisome thoughts, and focused on bobbing and weaving between the trees. The faster they get there, the faster they can help.


The Ridge

It happened too quickly.

The battle was going on as it should: Audun's cannonball struck another critical to one of the running Rottapults, snapping off one of its big vertebral scales, making it belch in pain. Phos had regrouped with the fleeing Desmond, coming to his aid by smashing an otherwise deadly Runner into a tree with her quickly-materialized arms. If it had gone on as it should've, then the Runners in the rear would've established a perimeter around the rock-lady and human warrior, while the Deathwarden did battle with Inuin and the knight-squire duo, with the dullahan and Seraph giving chase to the Rottapults.

What happened instead, was odd, to say the least. Appearing only as a sudden darkness for a split second, as if the warriors' eyes had blinked on their own accord, the scenery had completely changed. No longer were they surrounded by the falling leaves of a gigantic forest, with the faint chittering of terrified birds serving as the backdrop for their fighting. No, that scene had been left behind entirely.

They were in the Ruins now.

aaaand segue right into
The Ruins
im so smart

The Ridge team had found themselves instantaneously teleported to the site of the Ruins, along with their foes, in more or less the same positions as they had assumed before. But unlike the warriors, the Darkborne wasted no time in readjusting to the new situation: the Runners abandoned the tasty prey, and flocked immediately towards the Darkmage's precious cathedral, skirting over Bron's sides; the Rottapults changed direction like a herd of stampeding pigs, and quickly reloaded themselves for a salvo directed towards the foe. The Deathwarden, however, stayed on target. Its eyeless stare remains fixated on Buras, as it prepares its cleaver properly.

The sudden arrivals were stuck in the opening between the wagon and the cathedral. An awkward position to be in, where retreat meant exposing their vulnerable backs to potential attacks, but an attack resulting in an under-supported struggle against a superior foe.

The cathedral had collapsed entirely, as if it were a puppet that had all its strings loosened. The crumbling remains creaked and groaned almost like a person in agony, as it teetered over itself and folded inwards in a most unnatural way. The collapse more resembled a broken hand going limp, as its motor functions are severed from its control. Now, within the barren remains of the once-cathedral, there was a circular construct not too dissimilar from the one the Ruins party had stumbled across in the building with the Wallmaidens, bubbling with Dark ooze. It would seem that the cathedral had been actually held up by nothing more than an overwhelming density of Dark energy, an overwhelming amount of Dark that had been expended in order to bring the Ridge assets into the fight. Perhaps a foolish move from the Darkmage, but only time shall tell.

With reinforcements, the Darkborne fought back harder. The sole Warden that had been entrusted to combat the succubus had now seen through her hologram folly, and simply ignored the illusions as it raised one of its big encumbering hands to fully cover its fragile head from the succubus' line of fire. Doing some fancy footwork, it swiftly retreats back to the cathedral ruins.

The Beast swiftly lost its footing, and with a well-timed attack from Pryonn, lost part of its foot. Excess lumps of muscle and flesh liberated themselves violently from the point of impact, as the monster goes down face-first onto the cobblestone, coming to a stop a meter or two behind the knight. Not sparing a moment, however, the Beast lifted itself on its two massive arms, and... pushed into the ground. A curious maneuver, but it had delivered the Beast directly backwards and upwards, onto its good leg, and also on a trajectory towards Pryonn. Pivoting at the hips, it flailed its injured leg horizontally, intent on smashing the ruined limb into Pryonn's body. A sickening roar escaped its maw as the muscles contorted painfully to make such a maneuver happen.

The two enlarged Deathwardens had split up: one would go after Aymeline, opening with a frontal thrust, and intending to follow up with smacking her in the head with the blunt of the cleaver, and then finish the fight by using its superior strength to cut through her armor and decapitate her. At least, that was the plan. The other Deathwarden quickly aligned itself between the Darkmage and the oni, erupting in a charge towards Bron, raising its cleaver, poised to bring it down on the warrior's head... before quickly ducking out of the way, and letting its back be used as a stepping platform for one pissed-off and fast Darkmage.

The being's bone-ivory magic cane had detached into two parts: one circular disc blade that had wrapped itself nicely around the Darkmage's left hand, and a simple quarterstaff held firmly on his right. The quarterstaff impacted with a frontal thrust directly into Bron's nose, followed swiftly by a diagonal slash from the blade, diverting his momentum just enough to put him in a position to get behind the oni, both hands holding his quarterstaff firmly to establish a choke hold on Bron from behind, while the Deathwarden charged again with a quickly-descending slash onto the oni's head, aimed to finally split his skull.

At least, that was the plan.

QizPizza SilverFlight Midrick Epiphany ShiyaRose Slop Spireshade Unwavering Knight Trappy SCSaya06 U UnbelievableCow Sybil Soviet Panda

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron snorted as the deathwarden lined up for him. He charged as well, lifting his axe to meet the creature's strike...but it never came. Bron's eyes went wide as he nearly overbalanced, recovering only to look up at precisely the wrong time: The darkmage's bone-ivory staff connected with the direct center of his nose and a splitting pain shot through his skull. He turned his face defensively and the slashing strike glanced off one of his massive horns, leaving a deep gash to the bone.
"OW!" Bron yelled, more angry at the audacity of the strike than the pain. He felt the staff about his neck, but it was nearly like trying to choke an actual bull. Bron saw the warden's attack well in time and dove forward, curling in upon himself to expose the mage on his back and weather the strike with his stone skin. The blow was like being hit by a landslide, but he hoped the mage found it much sharper. He was moving again in an instant, around and up, taking a risk in leaping onto the warden's exposed back, bringing his axe down for a head strike. It was countered, the warden reaching up and over. The horns that had saved him before, now served as the perfect handle and the oni was dragged bodily over head. Bron was slammed down onto his back (and satisfyingly, the mage as well) and placed in perfect view of what felt like the hundredth time he had faced a deathblow today. He rolled, saving his own neck and that of the mage, who by some miracle was still holding onto him. He came to one knee with a hand still on the ground
The oni, once again feeling the power of the earth coursing through him, slammed his fist on the cobbles, summoning thick, pointed shafts of stone that shot up, straight toward the warden's exposed face.
Kabboom

 

[Soviet Panda]

It was as if death was not on all sides, so intent was Buras on the one Warden. And with his tell tale roar, he rushed the Warden. Sparks flew as metal shrieked off metal. Again and again Buras struck, and again and again the Warden leveraged it's massive weapon to block and deflect the many and furious swings. It knew it could not counter, not with the Inuin so close. Luckily for it, it could body Buras around. The next time the Inuin got close, the Warden shoved with all it's might, and sent Buras sliding, though still upright. And in one fluid movement, it raised it's cleaver above it's head to come crashing down on the Inuin.

Unlike the Warden, Buras could not completely block the attacks. So he quickly rolled out of the way, but the Warden was relentless. Wrenching it's cleaver from the shattered ground, it swung again. And again Buras rolled out of the way. Now that he had been pushed back, the Warden could swing with impunity, as long as it made sure it kept the Inuin at arms reach. And so Buras was forced on the defensive, deflecting and dodging blows as he searched for a way to once more slip into a more comfortable distance.

 

[Sybil]

Phos SpessartiteLocation: Ruins
The rock living assortment of gems and sediment had found itself in no real danger beneath the dirt and rocks of the battlefield, not really worrying too much other than utterly disposing of what she found to be unsightly beasts one by one. Was it specifically these dark beasts that angered her? No. It was all of their kind, and the hatred she bore was evident in each uncoordinated and unplanned attack she found herself committing each time a fight arose with them. She understood fighting, mining, and women. Mostly. Hardly despite being one, but that is more due to her environment growing up.

How was her knowledge important? It was important because what she barely understood was her body of natural energy and stone, and even less than that was magic. Magic which now had somehow moved her through space to end up at the surface of the ruins, having disposed of the few remaining darkborne beneath the surface. To say she was disoriented, sickened, and woozy was an understatement but then again she can't possibly lose her 'lunch' of just roc--... Yep, she just vomited. All just an assortment of gravel and pebbles. It was a short bout of minerals which they quickly stood up from with the sounds around them, confused but thankfully at least recognizing some bodies in on direction and making the bodies of dark that easier to identify in the other direction in her confused state. Thankfully, due to her one-track mind, she was easily adjusting to the one fact she needed. Darkborne around, and they needed to die. Darkborne that she already recognized? The grotesque flesh-catapults had her focus, and with that she wiped some sand from her mouth and bolted off, looking to mount the massive beast's back and observe if there was somewhere to deliver her payload of explosive.

I'm probably goin ta have ta get near it's mouth ain't I....


Interactions Kabboom QizPizza SilverFlight Midrick Epiphany ShiyaRose Slop Spireshade Unwavering Knight Trappy SCSaya06 U UnbelievableCow Soviet Panda

 

[Trappy]

Maria
A sudden turn of events unfolded around the girl, for better or worse, and Maria was not sure which side she was leaning towards just yet. The team sent to the ridge to hunt down Dark pests was suddenly here with them, and was almost immediately subjected to attacks from wardens and other sorts of minions the Darkmage had summoned for them. No doubt their displacement here was the bastard's doing in the first place, but Maria couldn't quite wrap her head around the reason why it had done so. Overconfidence? Perhaps. Regardless, they now had more in the ranks, and as she had arrived on the scene, Maria was ready to relieve her comrades.

The guardian dashed across the battlefield, occasionally hopping over debris and obstacles with the aid of her power as she looked for an opening to join the fray, and soon enough, Maria found what she was looking for. An Inuin, one who had travelled with her group since Frontierville, was forced on the defensive by a warden, and she was not going to let that stand. The guardian began moving to aid the Inuin, hopping onto a warden which was struggling in vain with some sharpened shafts stuck in its head as a stepping platform in the process. Upon contact with the creature's back, Maria channeled her power, and the suddenly applied weight forced the warden down to the ground, the shafts piercing their way through its helm and deformed skull, sounding a crisp crunch that drew a satisfied smile on the guardian's face.

But there was no time to savour the sadistic pleasure. Buras was still on the defensive, and so, wasting no time, Maria shot herself into the air from the warden's back towards the one exchanging blows with the Inuin, and with careful maneuvers, landed just behind its helm. Struggling to maintain her balance on the bulk of a beast for a moment, Maria recomposed and repeatedly struck the nape of the creature with her polearm, gradually digging into its neck from behind its head and forcing the warden the halt its attack and jolt uncontrollably in its place. This wasn't helping her balance, however, as holding onto the thing became increasingly difficult. But there was little Maria could do with her size, stuck on the Darkborne, and so the guardian could only hope the Inuin could get itself back into its people's savage 'dance' ritual quick enough and finish off the warden.

Mentioned: Soviet Panda