Fantasy Fading Flame (In Character)

[Pilgrim59]

Gilligani Chotsky
Hearthfall Season - Night
Forest, Outpost, Darkwoods

Interacted: Vera, Uri
Mentioned: N/A
​

Of Might & Magic​

Written with: Trappy​

"Alright you embarassing bastard, time to get to work."

After he dropped the link, the Enchanter spent a good five minutes cowering behind the stone, moss-covered stairway to preparehimself for what might have been the bravest act he had ever committed to. Clutching a jade amulet in his hand, the mage whisperred the power word as arcane energy pulsed out from the object, swirling around Gil before enveloping his form in a translucent mystical armour. A magnificent spectral-like mask and a matching set of plate armour briefly appeared around Gil's form before fading out of sight. The mage then held up the jade between his eyes, blinked twice, and whisperred something else. His eyes flared up with a dim green light, and suddenly the night was, once again, as bright as day.
Gil glanced across the battlefield before him, breathed once, and started dashing towards where he last saw his friend, his bright eyes scanning the surrounding for spike-thrashing beasts.

His first challenge did not take long to reveal itself. The Exman's cover under the darkness of the night was effectively nullified by the mage's enhanced vision, though the creature's ferocity and inhuman speed for something that resembled a man startled Gil. Its charge sent the Enchanter stumbling backwards a few steps and fortunately out of range, as its sickly Dark claws missed his torso by but a few inches. Gil brought up his kite shield just in time, as a second slash immediately followed the first with such speed, scrapping off its surface. Strikes after strikes pounded on his shield, as the Exman went into a blind rage, determined to slice and dice its target to bloody bits. The battle mage held strong and endured, before reeling back, breathed, and lunged at the fiend as soon as an opening presented itself, his weapon glowed with the colours of the cosmos above, as if reflecting the brilliant lights they shone upon him.

His strike was true. Gil immediately started backing off and went into a defensive stance as green, crackling sparks of energy shot out from the burning wound where his morning star had impacted, and the sparks remained, seemingly swirling around the Darkborne's form with intent. Despite the apparent damage, the Exman shown no sight of pain or weakness, as it immediately prepared to darted towards the mage. However, as it did, the sparks around its form got more violent, before there was a thunderous crack, the Exman stumbled in the middle of its charge, its form collapsed into dust and Dark matter.

The confrontation certainly attracted some attention - the kind of attention Gil wanted none of. Soon enough, the Exman's dozen of counsins in the vicinity went after the mage who had just called down the sky's fury on their brethren.

"Oh sh-"

Gil resorted to the instinctual, and undoubtedly the most primitive, though proven and common tactic of man when faced with dangers - mild panic and running away. The whole scene almost seemed comedic - on one side were valiant defenders of the outpost, giving it all so that the men and women behind them and by their side may yet survive the night, and then there was Gil, running away, with a horde of Exmen on his tail. However, as the mage ran, the boots that usually leave a trail of Light residue were giving off something else. Gil kicked dust and dirt as he ran, and eventually, a peculiar shroud of dust, glittering with the mixed-in Light was formed behind him. The mage seemingly ran faster now, and the shroud slowly enveloped him entirely, then halt. The shroud became static, then dissipated, and Gil was nowhere to be seen.

Quite a way away, a mysterious fog formed just above the tall forest grass. And from it, Gil emerged, face-planting onto the ground. The golden arcane mask briefly shows itself one last time, before fizzling out. Whatever arcane influence it was had certainly expended its use after the Enchanter's rather expeditious maneauver.

Upon his arrival in the pitch-black fortress of trees and sprouting grasses, Gil was met by a grievous, painful sensation upon his leg, as something sweeped him off of his feet. A briefly glittering light blinded the man, followed by a distinct echo of a metallic ring. Before him was the pointy end of a brushed blade, still tainted by some dark smudges and dirt, as his opposition's figure slowly came into focus - cladded in full armor and a familiar, yet hostile visage of a Sarmanian helmet. Uri, Gil recalled, was mere inches away from nailing his face in.

"Well, hello there. Aren't you a friendly face." The Enchanter slowly got up on his feet, taking a full, earthy breath as the man came to realise he didn't just snap into existence. The blood fog dropped him, and it knocked the air out of him.

"Hmm..." Uri grunted, firmly asserting his armasa's dominance over the man, despite Gil's appearance as a human. Studying the man's face, and reaffirming the mage's identity, the marine was ever more convinced to let his armasa loose, before a voice reach out to him.

"Gil?! What are you doing here? Uri!" Vera stepped into the scene, as she pulled the knight away, barely stopping her little brother from killing the man.

"More friendly face! More friends! By the Saints, this must be the highlight of the night!" The mage chuckled, somehow oblivious to Uri's former intents, before went into picking up spell components that got loose and were scattered around when he 'shrouded' to this location. "I did say I was coming to you. When have I not kept my word?"

"Aren't you supposed to look for the Thrasher from the walls? Hmm... you got chased by something, didn't you?" Vera asked, somewhat glad to see Gil made it out, at least.

"Hm?? Uh...There was some of that. Angry locals, you know."

"... You never change. Let's keep it that way. Come on, we need your help finding the Thrashers."

"But hey! I did scan through the site ... briefly. Picked up a few blips around here - ish. They shouldn't be too far..." The mage trailed off, his bright eyes nervously darted about, scanning tree-lines and tall, wild bushes, making out eerie, shifting shapes moving about around them.
"There might be too many of them. Might be wise to... retr- *ahem*, tactically advance in a different direction, perhaps lure the beasts out...?"

"Negatory. We'll take them head on! Uri will take care of ya, no worries! Now, where are those lousy spikey things?" Vera said, as she turned her head back and forth, looking for one to launch herself at. Needless to say, she was quite driven, albeit a little too impetuous.

Uri stood behind Gil, eerily glaring at the man with hostile intents. While the mage did not see the spearman's gaze of contempts, he can feel a certain uneasy sensation creeping up from behind him.

"I sense a certain uneasy sensation from your direction, my friend. Is there anything I might be able to help you with?" Gil spoke up to Uri from the front, his eyes still glancing about the creeping floras around them.

"Of course. Perish." Uri replied monotously.
The mage turned. An eyebrow raised at the soldier's questionable attitude.

"Uri! Be nice! Haha! He didn't mean it, Gil. T'was an attempt at humor, isn't that right, Uri?!" Vera said, as she waltzed over to Uri and nudge Uri's hips with her elbow.

"Sure... would be a shame to see such a talented mage be buried neck deep in- ouch!" Uri said, before Vera's gauntlet fell onto his head.

"Now now! Let us away!" Vera exclaimed vibrantly, as she skipped forward merrily, hiding her killer instincts towards the Darkborne.

The Enchanter stopped and studied the man, Uri, for some time, before bringing his eyes back to scanning their surrounding. "Maybe you wouldn't wish that if you intend on walking out of here in one piece, friend." Gil said, his eyes, lit with arcane energy, suddenly flashed bright as the man's gaze snapped towards a direction.
"The air feels... heavier, do you sense that? I'm afraid Thrashers won't be the only things we should keep an eye out for, my friends. But anyways, there are the lowsy spike beasts."
The mage got low, his bright cloak enveloping him, before gesturing his companions towards the direction in which Spikethrashers were registered.

"Outstanding work, as always. We'll take it from here, you are welcome to throw your shots, Gil! Fufufu! " Vera nodded and chuckled lightly, as she turned over to Uri and gave him a sign with her hand, cueing the man to raise his armasa. She procured vision on their objectives and were eager to take the fight to them.

"No one would know..." Uri mumbled under his breath, with his spear aimed at Gil's back.

"Well, I won't be far behind..." Gil sighed with a tired smile, and prepared a handful of baking powder in a separate pocket while getting lower into the tall grass.

Before long, a whistling noise zoomed past Gil and Vera, as the knight's weapon found its mark on the ground, just a few feet from one of the thrashers, drawing their attention towards the impact point. Vera, followed up on Uri's throw and charged straight at the beasts. As she goes, her attentive hands caught Uri's spear and took it with her. The dual-wielding paladin made much progress across the forest clearing, before jumping into action. Leaping from the ground, Vera threw her armasa at the Spikethrasher's limb, prompting the beast to kneel, as she manages to land upon its back. Spinning Uri's spear in her other hand, the paladin twirled it fro and forth, before landing another lunge at the beast's neck.

Gil was about to break concealment and follow Vera, but Uri's hand found the prior's shoulder, as he eyed forward at the paladin in combat.

"Wait for the signal." he said.

Retracting the armasa into a sword, she continued to severe the tendrils that bound the creature's apex organs. Like a sculptor of destruction, Vera used both her hands to tear the creature apart, all the while parrying its panicked counter-volleys of spikes. The beast turned its head back and forth in agony, while trying to sway the paladin off - throwing Vera off and hanging by its neck with her firm grasps on Uri's blade, of which was the only thing keeping her from falling off. With quick thoughts, the paladin retracted her legs and pushed forward, time and time again. She tried to swing herself forward, and with a determined force of momentum and what made up her strengths, her armasa followed, tearing a huge gap in the beast's lower neck, effectively decapitating it, as she landed on the other side.

"Move." a voice reached out from behind Vera, as the creature's death emitted a large screen of fleeting residue. Mumbling footsteps encroached from Vera's rear, resounding in its ever clearer approach.

By this time, the others were caught up behind her, using the creature's vaporization process as concealment from the other Spikethrasher's volleys, of which were all focused on Vera. The shrouded figures emerged from behind her and the vaporizing beast like a band of heroes being conjured up by the demise of the Darkborne creature. Vera stretched out her hand, and threw Uri's armasa into the air, as the man caught it, and passed her with speed.

From his hiding, Gil held up his weapon with both hands, and took aim via the gap between two spikes, trying his best to imitate the posture he'd seen in Imperial musketeers. His eyes flared up as the mage's gaze focused onto a stray Spikethrasher. The beast was fixing its position, turning to face his comrades out on the field with its spikes all stood up, primed to let loose. The Enchanter wasn't about to let that happen. As he mumbled the power word , the morning star again lit up with the stars' light, and from it emerged a focused beam of bright, green light, crackling violently with destructive Light energy. The beam struck the beast dead in its turning process, the focused Light energy sparked an explosion reminiscent to one produced by Light-powered handcannons of the Empire. The creature only let out a brief streek as the beam impacted, and the cloud of dust left-over after the explosion now showered the charred remnants of the Spikethrasher with glittering Light residue. The Enchanter lowered his weapon, breathed, before lowering himself again into the tall grass, his eyes resumed scanning the bushes beyond the small opening.

Uri followed up on Gil's spell, as the explosion had given him much time to execute his moves, accompanied by his agile movements. The man threw his spear at the beast's head, prompting it to turn away for a bit, as it attempts to unlodge the blade from its body. Uri dashed forth, leaping onto the spear and swung two rounds around his armasa, building up momentum for his second leap, as he removed the spear from the beast's face with his firm grip. Landing upon the ground, the knight rolled to the side, and took a few jabs at the thrasher's limbs - one by one, as he circled around. With little progresses made, Uri finally found an opening, all the while parrying its close-quarter attacks. The man kept himself close enough for the Spikethrasher to hold off on its ranged attacks. He slid beneath the creature and lunged upwards, cutting it with a set of precise consecutive combination of slashes and thrusts. The thrasher threw its tail about, hitting the nearby tree, as it sweeps the man off course.

Uri got up on his feet again, and recovered from the creature's counter-attacks. He eyed the tree barks and branches around him, before grabbing one, as he plunged into the fight again. Uri aimed for its head, and this time, with his armasa as a sword to hack at the thing. With a few swing, he was able to tear open its outer tendrils, as he continued to parry and dodge the thrasher's attacks, the man conjured up a spell upon the set of tree barks and branches in his other hand. As the pieces of wood glowed red, Uri lunged his attached himself to the creature with his sword, and shoved the handful of crimson woods into the thing's body and withdrew his weapon. He rolled away, before mumbling a few foreign words. The thrasher's neck glowed briefly, before a muffled bang echoed throughout the forest, causing an implosion within the beast, as it faded away with the wind upon passing. Uri's simple transmutation spell had turned the tree's saplings into a deadly explosive device. Uri got up on his feet, and shrugged off the dirt that plagued his armor, as he spun his armasa briefly, before erecting it into a spear. The paladin took a brief glance at Gil, before turning towards the next Spikethrasher.

Gil did notice the look with his enhanced vision. The man wondered if he'd crossed Uri before to deserve the hostility. Perhaps he would think more on it sometime, may they'll sit down and have a talk, yes. But it wasn't time for these thoughts, as the mage soon detected a large contingent of Dark forces rallying just beyond the opening his comrades were in, and heading them was something truly sinister. The mage stood up from the grass and called out to the paladins.

"Brace yourselves, something bad over the bushes!"



*Translation Notes:
N/A

 

[Octo Girl]

Terra looked around, Darkness has surrounded the compound and was gaining fast from their front. Terra took a crystal out of her pocket and looked down to it. "It's.... It's a...." She stuttered as she raised her hand up, cracking the crystal as the ground seemed to rumble beneath her, getting stronger and stronger as she squeezed harder and harder. "EARTHQUAKE!!!!!' She yelled to everyone and she slammed the crystal down. Mana had been shown to flow from her hand, making the power of the crystal grow. As the crystal shattered on the ground, the ground trembled once more before the ground started to split. Terra fainted, a guardsmen catching her as he dragged her away and trying to stay on his feet.

 

[Soviet Panda]

The one who responded to Buras' call was the one that had helped him kill that Warden in the Ruins, Maria. Good, she seemed to have an innate grasp on how the Inuin fought, she was perhaps the best choice for this. And so he followed after her to the treeline, acting more as a ram to force his way through the enemies rather than the usual whirlwind of blades. He had a partner this time, he did not need to lash about at everything, for this time he had someone to watch his back.

 

[Kabboom]

????

They're right on time. They do have Guardians with them. The writhing mind did not fail.

The Smothered One sat where she achieved total view of the fight unfolding. A burning halo of seething Light, casting death upon the Darklings. The usual Preyborne were putting up a better fight than usual, thanks to the new arrival of Guardians and other powerful members of the pulsating Empire of Light. The thought of savoring their flesh, and above all, their thoughts - granting them perspective upon the great writhing mind that drives - made The Smothered One almost salivate in delightful anticipation, an act that would surely degrade her down to the levels of the puny Darkwolf that now served idly as her resting chair. But enough admiration.

They call.

Her Minion was alongside her. His lithe body, oozing Dark, had found himself perched on top of the branches. The Hunter's oculars were taking in the battle in its earnest. She did not have to utter a single word to him - they were completely united in mindset. The only hint of communication between the two, to an outsider Preyborn, would be the way the Hunter's feathered self rustled ever so slightly, as the Smothered One twitched her head - or, where her head would've been when she was still alive. Within their unspoken conversation, however, things were not silent.

'What do you see, Owl?'
'Prey for the hunt. Easy. Predictable.'
'Notable Prey?'
'Affirm. That Giant over there. She attaches to their foul web of Light. Through her, all of them taste vigor. Mages defend her.'
'What of the regulars? Those who call themselves 'Guardsmen'? I quite not understand why the Prey insist on Guard-themed names.'
'Neither do I. But your query stands; the regulars hold as usual. They play, and cheer. True suffering has not come to them yet.'
'That is why we are here tonight. Of the frontline?'
'Their front is formidable. The entrance is guarded by two Half-breeds, with possibly magical weapons. And they are carving a spearhead through the Thrasher ranks, with two- no, three brawlers.'
'The Giant, the brawlers, the Half-breeds make for targets of six. And the two encroaching on our position makes eight.'
'Strange. Something seems off.'
'Hm?'
'The two brawlers... they are clad in white armor. Officers perhaps?'
'Point noted. Take caution, and... do tend to them well.'

The Rottapult, poised behind the Smothered One, rumbled in response to an unknown calling. Shuffling itself, the last of its kin in this area of the Darkwoods aimed itself towards the offending prey, fixing its invisible sights upon the Inuin. The Hunter dropped down from his high tree, landing without a sound. It was his time to go.

'Go, Hunter. Take their front line, and take their Giant. Without their dearest Light, these Prey shall finally fall.' The Smothered One said as she got up, her Darkwolf chair resuming normal duty. She molded herself into the shadows, out of sight.
'I shall.' Was all he said, spreading his wings and preparing to soar forth beneath the cover of the trees. His weapons and claws yearn for the flesh of Prey.
'I do wish you best of luck. May your... Owl be with you?' Unseen, The Smothered One gave her regards.

'The Sova is with me no more. And same to you.'
The Hunter then flew off for the fight.


An earthquake rumbled the entire outpost. Guardsmen were shocked, shaken, and jumbled up, falling over from the intense vibrations. The stonework creaked and moaned, which was not something stonework is known for, and ergo is a cause for big concern. They shook, and shook, and when they shook to their maximum, they shook further. There was no end to this accursed earthquake. Some of the stones on the top of the walls have already begun to pop off from the rumbling, and the men on the battlements were almost all knocked down from the walls, clinging onto life only by the ropes that they have tied to their bodies.

But alas, the ground broke before the Guard did. Such was the strength of their masonry; one does not simply break an Imperial outpost's walls. They may smash the walls, but they can never collapse the hardened stones, thanks to their outstanding foundation work. A large hideous gash opened on the ground instead, as if it were a huge Cavity waking up. But alas, no teeth came from the void, but instead, it was Darkborne. Of course it is.

Crawling forth from the earthy depths, packs of Burrowers appear. A margin larger than the biggest of Darkwolves, the Burrowers were digging away furiously at the ground, intending to erupt from the subterranean world onto the normal world, where they shall taste flesh and open the way for their brethren, and also any Darkwolves or Runners or the other myriad of low level Darkborne that can squeeze through their tunnels, can also get to the front quickly without getting shot to death. With six powerful muscular forelimbs to dig dirt with, these spider-like beings stand upright, using their worm body as a support, while they use their digger limbs to move forth and claw prey. That kind of stuff.

Spikethrashers and Darkwolves start pouring out of these holes. They seem to have been digging away happily, and the earthquake had just furthered their progress. Fortunately, the earthquake had also more or less divided the Front into two smaller halves, limiting the movement space of the Darkborne. The Dark spawn were now ramping up their efforts, being more aggressive and tactical than usual. Perhaps something is changing? A new strategy, perhaps? Is their commander coming closer, strengthening the power of the links in their mind? At this point, who knows.

Using their many limbs, the ranged Thrashers crawl through the Burrower tunnels like lightning, ejecting outwards onto the surface like whales breaching. Two such instances occurred near the valiant Sarmanian defenders outside, in the treeline. Their whips, like firecrackers, thrash twice the amount of usual projectiles at the trio, as the duo of Spikethrashers increased their numbers to four, then to six. Moving around, these things were no mere pushovers, no mere Thrashers anymore. They were playing to their strongpoints; maneuverability and unrelenting fire. With one getting nicked by a lucky shot to the head from some Guardsman, five of them remain, loosing a lot of projectiles at Vera and Uri in particular. Maybe white attire in a forest wasn't a good idea.

Spoiler: Burrower

Within the confines of the outpost, however, things were different. Good news, the earthquake did almost no damage aside from some bruised Guardsmen and broken chunks of stone. Bad news is, there's three Cerebrates coming over the Rear wall.

Likely the origin of that Darkwing horde that came from behind, these hulking beasts demonstrate uncharacteristically aggressive maneuvers, using their many forelimbs to hoist themselves over the stone. Gil's halo ring began firing immediately, but the magic missiles can only do so much against the thick high-level Darkbornes' hides, namely, nothing at all except for shooting off a few weak forelimbs. The blasted things have plenty to spare. The Rear wall creaks and moans even more violently, as the combined weight of three Cerebrates pull on it.

Slowly, they hoist themselves on top of the wall, standing there menacingly, eyeing up their potential opponents. Slowly, they begin their descent, against the face of unrelenting firepower.

Whoever's commanding these things has a rude sense of humor.


Clanus

The girl was now crying, as she stammers through her explanation. Clanus now began feeling bad for the girl. Most of the guys and gals he rescued prior were all toughened Guardsmen, no stranger to being yelled at and thrown at the enemy, but this... this was just a girl. Like that Lunala lady, maybe even worse. Darn it, why are all the vulnerable people at the front? Leafa, Lunala, now this lady, whatever her name is.

"'Ey, 'ey, lady, calm down. You're doin' a good job at it, I promise ya. It's gon' be alright, okay? Jus' stop cryin'." He tried his best at a calming voice. Then the freaking Cerebrates came. First the earthquake, now this?

No time. Grabbing the lady by the hand again, Clanus displaced up to the higher levels. They're dead if they stay down here.

ShadeAlucard


Jericho

The fun just keeps coming.

He'd barely stayed on his feet when the earthquake struck, and he almost fell down into the hole himself when the ground opened up. Burrowers beneath, of course there would be. The only reason why they can't come up inside the outpost walls is because of the thick foundation, built specifically for this reason. The Darkborne commander is not playing easy this time. Between the Burrowers, Exmen, Manwalkers, Spikethrashers, Runners, Darkwolves and Cerebrates on the field, something big is bound to get here.

In that case, the small fry need to be dealt with. Darkborne have strength in numbers, and also raw strength. Better to fight them one at a time, rather than all at once.

The fervent scratching and scraping of the Burrowers surfacing drilled into his ear, the way a Spikethrasher's supersonic whip drilled fear into the hearts of weak Guardsmen. Funny how he'd never been able to overcome their shrill cries, especially given how long it has been since the last night with his team. But no matter. A Guardian does what a Guardian must. To uphold the Light, a man must engage in Darkness sometimes. A paradox, to be sure, but it works.

Isn't that right, Frey?

Grabbing the Halberd tightly, Jericho pressed the buttons on its handle. Burrower nests are confined, and a halberd is a less than ideal 'head' to use against them. A glaive 'head' would work better. Glowing with excessive heat, the yellow halberd head begun transforming itself, like a molded blade without a blacksmith hammering it into shape. The broad axe blade and the thick blunt hammer melded, lengthening the spear tip and creating a seamless, double-edged straight blade on top of the handle, glowing with heat. Not a perfectly shaped glaive, but it was the best Jericho could've done with the limited knowledge.

Charging forth at the nearest nest, Jericho went to work. Some of the Burrower tunnels had Darkwings waiting inside, and now they were pouring out by the dozens, slowly blotting out the sky. The Imperial sprite flares set up in the trees had long ran out of batteries, and now the darkness of the forest was in full bloom. The Cerebrates on the rear of the wall were taking in a lot of fire, and as such, the front will have to be remedied with deadly power. The Cerebrates are big, but slow and able to be attacked at range. Darkwolves and the like are not so vulnerable. That is why they must be dealt with first.

The nearest Burrower had barely surfaced, when a piping red hot glaive with the Light-infused ability to cut through basically everything, lobbed its head off with a clean swipe. The headless beast went limp, its slower deterioration proving a good temporary blockage for the tunnel, as the decapitated throat sizzles from the intense heat. Jericho hadn't even slowed down.

Arriving at the second nearest tunnel, where the Burrower had already come out of its hole, and a few Darkwolves had just crawled out of the tunnel, Jericho meant business. Swinging his Magisteel Glaive upwards from where he was holding it with his left hand, the Guardian swiped the foul Burrower with both arms by pulling the glaive up to the right. The Burrower's attempt at blocking was futile, as it soon found out when all of its digger limbs separated from its base with a sizzling red where the blade struck. Screeching, the Burrower fell down with pain.

The Darkwolf lurched forward with a bite aimed at Jericho's revealed head. The Guardian's small stature played to his advantage, however, as he coiled his legs and pounced backwards, converting the pull force into a push force and swinging the Glaive forward again, slashing open the Darkwolf's jaws from right to left. The Darkwolf landed on its feet, but with a burning mouth, just as the second Darkwolf pounced. Raising his blade, the second offender impaled itself on Jericho's weapon, skewering itself from neck to abdomen down to the middle of the shaft. Landing with a thud, the second Darkwolf quickly caught itself aflame, as the glaive drove itself down onto the ground, burning away a few weeds as it sizzled like meat.

The first Darkwolf returned for more. The de-jawing maneuver was not enough to fell the beast, and it launched itself towards the Guardian. Learning from the best, he did not falter, using his legs to hold himself upright. Being brought down to the ground by a Darkwolf is death. Solution is simple: don't fall down. Instinctively raising his right arm to protect the rear of his naked head, Jericho could feel the full weight of the damned thing. Having a really sharp blade is a double-edged blade in and of itself sometimes; lacking the ability to push effectively, there is less 'stopping power', if there exists such a concept for melee weapons. Enough dilly-dallying with theories and concepts however, he's getting mauled by a Darkwolf.

The upper jaw was clawing against his armored gauntlet, and its feet were scraping his badly damaged rear armor plates. Reaching for Dante, Jericho began smacking the thing with the hardened mace form, bashing its skull in with each strike. After three such strikes, the Darkwolf has had enough, relenting and dropping down. Whipping backwards, Jericho finished the thing off with a swing directly to the eyes, cracking the skull and killing the beast.

Pulling the glaive effortlessly from the already-deteriorating Darkwolf corpse, Jericho quickly had to contend with a sudden arrival; a Spikethrasher at close range. Closing the distance even more, Jericho deflected the singular spike that was going to hit him dead center, and went in for the kill. Leaping forth, the weapon pierced the Spikethrasher in the head, and Jericho's own force pushed it barrelling backwards, onto a couple of Exmen. The damn Exmen horde was now enveloping him. Shit.

Preparing for further combat, Jericho braced the hordes.

"Give 'em hell, Conquerors!" A voice echoed from behind. The Conquerors decided that they were wasting their time not moving around, and have come out to help. A fusillade of arrow fire cut down the nearest Exmen, as well as a pair of grenades being thrown into the general vicinity of the Darkborne, detonating profusely. Turning around just in time to bisect another Burrower behind him, Jericho came face to face with the Conqueror commander. A stunning young lad clad in metal plate, with its shiny white color dirtied by the constant brush of Hissbombs* against the metal. A bit young for the title of commander, but that's what field promotions usually result in.

Without a word, the two worked together in unison. Firing their automatic crossbows at the other Darkborne, the Conquerors quickly moved up to the burrows. Scraping two Hissbombs against their carapace and tossing them into the holes were nothing more than a well rehearsed chore, and one such occurrence happened right in front of Jericho, with the commander doing the tossing and Jericho doing the stabbing-things-while-they-come-out-of-the-hole-ing.

As the explosions go off, Jericho headed back into the fort quickly, before passing a word or two. "You guys hold here, clean house! I'm headed in to kill the CBs!" hollered Jericho, before he bolted upwards on the stairs.

Inside was no different than outside. Lots of gunfire, big angry Dark. No big difference. Trying out a trick he learned, Jericho held the glaive upon one hand, and used what adrenaline-fueled strength he had left in his muscles to fling it like a javelin. Whistling through the air, amidst the hail of arrows and musket shots, the Magisteel weapon found itself digging through a Cerebrate's many eyes, before falling down onto the ground like a pin, having cut through the flesh that would've held it in place. Darn. Not enough power to get through to the weak spots.

Drawing Dante to finish the job, Jericho's aim proved to be true and he fired the reloaded shot directly through the hole he'd drilled into the Cerebrate. The shot connected, and with it being an explosive shot, the Cerebrate's internal cavity just got bigger, and thankfully, the thing died. Weak spot achieved, but not quite with one fell swoop. He'll have to practice even more. But now he's without his Magisteel weapon, and the Cerebrates are too near to guarantee getting it back and not getting sliced into 80 pieces in the process.

Guess the shortsword will have to do for now.

Spoiler: *

Hissbomb:
A small, cylindrical explosive device utilized as a grenade by the Empire. With a cylindrical ‘stick’ as the main handle, and a condensed sphere serving as the storage for the main explosive charge, the Hissbombs are a quintessential battlefield tool, and reports of its use date back to the ending stages of the Empire’s expansion over the continent. With a thin and easily removable metal cap at the bottom of the handle that can be removed partially or completely, even with a man’s teeth, and a friction-ignition fuse that can be ignited either by using the metal cap to scrape it, or scraping it across some other frictional solid surface, such as metal armor plates or cobblestone floors, the Hissbombs can be activated with ease, and does not demand much from its user. After ignition, the fuse will be lit aflame with powder, and a 5-6 second timeframe follows before the bomb’s explosion. This lit fuse generates the iconic hiss that the grenade is named after, as the powder crackles during its arc through the air. Their explosive yield is greater than most normal grenades, and are commonly used either singularly or in bundles against big Darkborne forms, known to even take down Cerebrates with a well-thrown Hissbomb.

(its time to rumble)
Trappy Soviet Panda Pilgrim59 Epiphany PsychoticOne Octo Girl SilverFlight LoneSniper87 -robert- Midrick Unwavering Knight Spireshade hostage Slop

 

[hostage]

Teoippe
“I am Teo. I have your name and you know mine, though names are of little importance along the lines of battle and glory, orc.“ She stepped forward, covering his side and brandishing her sword. Though she spoke with her usually lilting cadence, her face was hardened in a snarl as she stared down her enemies. The ruiners of her forest and ravagers of peace. Teo advanced alongside her companion and brandished her weapon.

She met her enemy quickly. It was a tall, quick beast who dodged her attacks and retaliated in the same heartbeat. Teo jumped away from Vik for only a second, sweeping her sword and parrying what she could. She deftly managed to drive the point of her sword through the beast’s shoulder blade, forcing it back. It emitted an unearthly howl, tipping its head back. She took the chance to slash its throat, almost severing the head. She brushed away the wall of particles the dark-foe turned into, then returned to Vik to engage with yet another enemy.

She was vaguely aware of many of her companions forging into the forest in hopes of finding the larger beasts that stayed there. She let her mind wander, probing the consciousnesses of the huge dark-foes. Their minds were vastly alien, and she retreated, cowed. There was no time to leave her post and join the paladins, so she kept fighting in her place. Two of the smaller runner types slunk around to her back, and she whipped around. She converged on them, naked blade outstretched and an unseemly snarl on her face. The two monsters were dispatched in a matter of seconds and Teo turned around in a flurry of splaying limbs.

Teo twisted in the air, completing a great leap before driving back to the earth and landing nimbly. She searched for her next opponent. Her muscles vibrated with a frantic excitement; every detail around her was sharp and clear as if etched in glass. Time itself seemed to stretch and slow. She was invincible, invulnerable. Then a pair of clawed hands wrapped around her neck, tanking her to the ground. She coughed, spluttering as she called for air. The creature above her growled in savage ecstasy, celebrating its victory, when her sword drove up between its ribs. It toppled off of Teo and she sprung to her feet, panting.

The next few minutes were a spasm of flashing weapons, tearing flesh, and sudden pains for Teo, though she never allowed herself to flag. The long baleful lighting gave the battlefield an unearthly aspect, bleaching them of color and projecting long, thin, razor sharp shadows across the shifting ground. She suddenly stumbled. The earth itself shifted and she struggled to regain her footing when the ground broke open, providing an entrance for yet another wave of enemies to ram through the Guardian defenses.

Teo spun to Vik, whom she had kept close to, instantly relaying her thoughts to him. “More on your right, careful. These ones are fresh.“ Teo destroyed a bunch of dark-wolves, moving on to the tall walking companions. No matter how much she strove, there was always another shadow enemy to slash and stab. The deadly sameness of each clash numbed her, to the point where she didn’t think about her own defense, rather attacking first and landing her blows where her enemy would feel them the most. She had cleared away a path for herself when she felt even more tremors reach her.

She braced herself, waiting for another earthquake, but was met with a creaking roar to her eastward side. She twisted to see three massive creatures, almost twenty times the size of her, approaching the walls. “Küzknurl*,“ she cursed, then spoke to Vik. “We must get the big ones.“ Almost on cue, she watched as Jericho hurled himself at one huge beast. Dismayed, she bounded to help him, but was stopped short by many dark-wolves. Teo rolled away in a futile attempt, knowing that her luck had run out.

Teeth flashed by her ear and she yelped, thrusting out a fist blindly. She connected with the muzzle of the wolf, sending it tumbling away. Teo leapt to her feet, reaching her thoughts to Vik and instructing him to follow. She then found Jericho in the midst if combat. He had slain the Cerebrate, but two more followed on their brethren’s heels. In two short bounds Teo reached Jericho’s side, awaiting Vik’s presence as she settled in a crouch, staring up at the towering figures before her.

*Curse, roughly translated to “dung-fucker“ or “rotten-[genitals]*

Interacting: PsychoticOne
Mentioned: Kabboom

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron knelt in front of the young elf and picked up a handful of dust. Using a finger he smeared the dust over her cut and pressed, calling on his magic. The cut vanished under his hand.
"The earth does what I tell it to." Bron stated simply.
Her question made him smile, and it showed a row of neatly-pointed teeth. "Get so what? Charming? Pretty? Or so much like one of your meat animals...a cow? Was it? I was born this way."

He stood and slung the axe over his shoulder. "We should get you back to Aymeline. That's likely the safest spot in the fortress right now."
Just then the earth began to shake. Bron had been distracted saving the little elf, he hadn't been paying attention to the senses that connected him to the earth.
"Hell's teeth." He swore. He could feel them, clawing and scrabbling. The ground hummed with their lust for blood. Bron knelt again and put a hand to the stonework, he forced his will upon the rock, holding it together, willing the walls to stay and the ground to open only as much as it had to. Once it was clear the walls would stand he got up again.
"Come with me." Bron turned and led the way, moving as far away from the center as they could get. The ground suddenly crumbled away and the darkborne came.
"I want you to climb up high, can you use that bow? Good. Shoot anything that comes through the holes in the floor...but...try not to shoot me, okay?"
-robert-

Bron left the elf there and hoped to the skies she would do as she was told.
Jericho was already there, tearing into the hoards coming up through the fortress floor. Bron fell upon them with no mercy: He landed on a darkwolf and broke its spine, caught another in both hands and snapped its neck like a dry stick. Then he drew his axe and laid into whatever else came near.
The ground under his feet gave way and he stumbled as a burrower reared up before him.
"Damn you're ugly! And that's coming from me!" He yelled and when it lunged he shoved the head of his axe between its jaws, giving a savage twist and breaking the bones and exoskeleton with a sickening crack.
He pulled the blade back and buried it in the creature's head. That was about when the explosions came. Bron got the heck out of there in a hurry, watching the steady flashes of the hissbombs and listening to the pained screeches of the monsters.
He heard Jericho's command, and intended to follow it.
"Hold the choke points!" He bellowed at the soldiers left who were willing to face the demons from the deep. "Let no more of the bastards through without losing limbs!"
Bron lead the charge back in, the enemies closed in on him but he only snarled a challenge back. There were a lot. Bron braced himself for a good deal of pain.
Kabboom @ anyone near the breach in the fortress center.

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Kaelynn, Kaatl and Pryonn (Made in collaboration with LoneSniper87 )

Visored gaze locked upon the goings-on of the rear-wall, the climb and descent of the towering trio of cerebrates, the fairy and knight duo found themselves halting in their gait. The massive beasts advanced through salvo after salvo of gunfire as if it was but rain, unabated and uncaring. The very ground itself shook beneath their gargantuan advance, insectoid limbs carrying onwards their supreme, alien bulks.

His chant ceasing, Pryonn slammed the butt of his banner-spear into the earth beside his foot as he pondered in silence. Mimicking his thoughts through action, the fairy on his shoulder emphatically stroked her chin, ice-blue eyes staring at the monsters with a playful pretense of trepidation. The knight’s first intention had been to join the defence of the front entrance and possibly add himself to the assault further on, but the sudden revelation of a threat this potent called for a change of plans. Around him, the cloud of metal-shard continued to hover, framing the enormous knight in argent-shining slivers of light.

“A challenge.” He concluded, pondersome tone turning to his characteristic audacity “Just as well, for a knight always rises to the occasion!” smile becoming audible from beneath his helm, the knight raised his lance-banner in emphatic manner, before ramming the butt-end into the ground again.

Exerting his will, yet further enhanced by the succulent infusion delivered by the anchored Aymeline, his immaterial perceptions raced across the battlefield. A silent command echoed across the slaughter-grounds, heard by none but those attuned to the light. All across the outpost, the clatter of discarded weaponry, spent bulletcasings and armor answered the knight’s command, rising from ground, lockers and the slain in uncaring abandon. Once again, the Last Repiner forcefully slammed his banner into the ground, exerting an imperious demand. From all length and breadth of the battlefield, any unmanned source of metal was flying towards the knight, to gather above him in a mass of iron and steel.

Kaelynn had been steadfast in her defense of the front, only until an iron chest piece almost took her head off. Then a dagger, then the blunt iron tip of a crossbow bolt, they all flew past her, and she watched them all arrive in the same point, a locust swarm of metal hovering near a knight. She felt her curiosity get the better of her and she swapped with a Guardsman to go investigate the sudden surge of metal near him. “Sir!” She called out, running to meet him. “It appears that s great deal of metal is missing… perchance do you know where it is? Oh! I seem to have found it… why do you need it?” She asked, brows furrowed as if trying to discern why.

Pryonn was about to answer, when a sudden explosion rang from the direction of the cerebrates, followed by one of the gargantuan monsters falling amidst a shower of sparks and dark particles. The very ground rocketed as the behemoth-bulk collapsed in a flurry of flailing limbs, a destroyed eye-globe betraying the explosive charge that had been expertly aimed into the innards.

Tearing his appreciative gaze from the downed foe, the knight finally turned his attention to the wolf-incruscan “The cerebrates will aim for dame Aymeline. Villains they are and damsel she be, as knight I am honor-bound to place myself in harm’s way.” he spoke, his tone carrying self-certain regality, the fairy on his shoulder flashing Kaelynn a playful smile “Dear canine candle-dame.” he tilted his helmeted head, addressing the wolf-girl “Any aid you can provide would be appreciated. Anything you can add to my metal, that is.” raising his banner lightly, he pointed up at the growing amalgamation of steel and iron.

Kaelynn stood near dumbfounded at this… over dramatic? Naturally dramatic? Sort of knight who must fancy himself the sort you hear slay dragons. After a moment, and snapped out of her stupor by the fairy, she nodded. “Ok. I'm sure I can heat things up for ya.” She said with a nod. “Just give me like, thirty seconds…” she said, her voice getting quieter.

“Tiamat, Queen of evil dragonkind, I ask you once more heed my call to arms. Creatures of dark who seek vanquish myself and my allies for their own mindless gain. I ask you grant me access to your all-powerful flame so that I may assist in one's killing, that will be in your name.” She said, and a few seconds looked up with a wicked grin. She could feel a fire brewing in her chest, just begging to be released. She gave him a nod before a gout of flame spewed past her lips, aimed directly at the mass of shrapnel, that after about thirty seconds, was all glowing red hot. The flame died slowly, and after she hacked up smoke a bit before giving a thumbs up. “Y-you’re good.” She managed to get out. Her world began violently spinning, and she fell to her hands and knees to try and stabilize it. She collapsed fully now, unconscious after having to control such a large amount of power at once.

Before the wolf-incruscan could wholly fall, the knight rammed his banner into the ground, freeing a hand with which he caught her. Carefully settling her unconscious form into a comfortable position, Pryonn gave her a thankful nod “You have my gratitude, fire-maven. Rest calm, the battle shall be hard-won with your blessings bright.”

A snapping sound intoned from two dainty digits, Kaatl closing her eyes in momentary concentration as she weaved her wyld craft. In an instant, the emissions of Kaelynn’s light went disguised, keeping her unconscious form invisible to the superficial perceptions of the darkborne. A little trick the fairy had gotten ample practice at refining.

Grasping hold of his lance again, the knight raised his standard high towards the veritable mass-sludge of molten metal being held precariousely-aloft by his iron will. Twirling the spear-heft in a flourishing motion, the Repiner pointed the steel-tip at the farthest of the cerebrates, letting fly the unshaped mess of red-hot metal-slurry. The mire-mass of steel and iron - enough to easily envelop entire houses - flew towards the cerebrate at breakneck speed, more akin to flood than projectile.

Slamming into the monster, the soup of bone-melting heat deluged about the behemoth, its shining-chitinous form set awash by red-hot metal-sludge. Knowing full well that simple submersion would achieve little, the knight continued to direct the superheated mass, willing the fiery stuff to drain into the cerebrate’s numerous openings, however microscopic or miniscule they might be - he would not be satisfied until he had turned the thing into more steel than darkborne matter.

Not waiting to see his handiwork fulfilled, the knight hefted lance and flail, setting himself into full run to cut off the path of the third and final cerebrate.



Mentioned: Epiphany Kabboom

Interacted with: Cerebrates

 

[ShadeAlucard]

ALEX

Alex continued his onslaught towards the pillar, before the ground started shaking and he hit the ground hard, making him black out for a few seconds. as he stood up and gained his composure, he noticed them. Cerebrates. the huge monstrosities, three of them to be precise, had made their way over the back walls of the outpost. Alex cursed at himself, he wasn't sure how he was gonna handle this. the only other weapon he had was his bow and he wasn't sure if the arrows would pierce through the monster. He then noticed that someone had managed two of them, and that one was standing, someone charging towards it. Alex sighed as he stood up and decided that enough was enough. Alex looked at the weapon of light in his hand and changed it once more, to his most practiced form. The light suddenly jumped up his arms and covered them and then solidified into punching gauntlets that were spiked. Alex slammed his knuckles together and chuckles. "Time for some fun of my own!" Alex roared as he charges towards the Cerebrates, following suite to the lance wielding knight.\

JAZMIN/EVE

Jazmin was still crying when she heard the guy trying to calm her down. Then felt his hand grab hers again as he tried to get her to higher ground. Jazmin felt so useless here. Her thoughts ran through her head at how she couldnt even heal because she was so scared. She closed her eyes in anger and the tears continued to flow before suddenly, they stopped. The gentleman holding her hand was stopped from moving as Jazmin stood tall and proud, a heat coming from her entire body as, in her free hand, a scythe of light was created. "I thank you for watching over me, but now, it is my turn." Jazmin said in a deeper tone than her originally high pitched voice as she forced her hand out of the gentleman's hand and she charged into battle, swinging the scythe in a way no one else could've imagined her swinging anything in battle. She immediately went to the front of the outpost, charging head first into the onslaught of the Darkwolves and Burrowers and just starts to use the reach of the scythe to her advantage, taking out multiple Darkborne before they could even reach her. Jazmin was gone for now. For now, there was only Eve

 

[Pilgrim59]

Vera / Uri / Gil
Hearthfall Season - Night
Outpost, Darkwoods

Interacted: Gil ( Trappy )
Mentioned: N/A
​

Thrash & Burrow

Written with: Trappy
​

"One... and out." Vera mumbled to herself, having parried one of the reformed Thrasher's volley, of which had completely broke through the last layer of Gil's aura.

The urgency of their empowered foes and Vera's loss of Gil's magical shield raised the stakes. Where others would shy from battle, the Sarmanian paladin was only driven further in her hunger for battle. But this time, she was no longer alone. Accompanied by her trusty mage, a raging berserker, and her little brother, Vera's maniacal laughter guided her steps, as she dismantled her pauldrons. The enemy was gaining grounds with their expedited movements, and she needed to match theirs, at the expense of her armor. Without pause, the paladin threw her shoulder guards into the air, and launched forward. Uri would do the same, prompted by his superior's bold, but reckless move. The man would grab one of Vera's pauldron and secure it by his wrist - forming a makeshift buckler. Before long, the other pauldron would land on the ground in front of the advancing duo, and with a few mumbling syllables from Vera, what was once a piece of attire had morphed into a barrier of spiked steel, protruding forward.

"Cover!" Uri shouted, as the two slid into cover behind the metallic cover, voiding the Thrashers' relentless array of shrieking projectiles.

"One at the time, Uri. Flank left! I will take them head on!" Vera exclaimed, withdrawing her canteen.

"That's suicide!" Uri said, as he examine his armasa.

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeves. Divide and conquer, Uri." Vera tapped Uri's shoulder, before leaping forth.

There were little time to revise their plan, as thus, the reluctant man could only abide by his impetuous officer's acts of violence. Vera, with all her might, lifted the barrier and pushed forward, unleashing a hail of deadly spikes from it. As she goes, her mobile cover would slowly disintegrate with each spike leaving its structure. What was once a defensive cover, had turned into Vera's own ranged armament. Spraying all over in front of her, the paladin finally slid away, having expended her cover to suppress the fast-moving Darkbornes. A few streaks of lightning-fast white trail curved back and forth from her left side, as the first spikethrasher fell quickly to her underling's exceptional movements.

As if planned from the start, the two preyed on the immobilized thrasher without pause or mercy. Where Uri's thrusts were met, Vera would follow up on his attack from the opposite side. Before long, their first target was already hacked into pieces, before it was dealt a final blow to the head by Vera's unrelenting smite, of which had quickly tore through the creature's neck, like an axman's hatchet upon a rotten log.

Uri shook off the spikes that dotted his buckler, as he leaned forward with his spear pointing towards a general direction, covering Vera's rear, as she would do the same.

Crouching just behind the Sarmanian duo and their outslaught was the Enchanter who have been keeping a close look on his allies.
Gil called out to whom it may concern, "Danger close!" - before retrieving a handful of the powder he'd preprared from a pouch inside his silver cloak, clasping his hands together and focused, temporarily shutting out the distractions of the battlefield and begun his quiet chant. As the mage released his hands, fingers weaving in front of him briefly, Gil completed his spell and launched a tiny bead of fire toward a section in the combined ranks of advancing Burrowers and Spikethrashers, where he deemed to be well outside his comrades' immediate vicinity. The bead erupted into a conflagration the moment it reached its destination, immediately engulfing the Dark beasts in a storm of hellish arcane flame.

"Cover!" Uri called out to Vera, as the two leapt away, just in time for Gil's spell to smear a spectacular screen of crimson flames before them - engulfing the unfortunate ones that dared to trod the formidable Guardians' paths.

As the flame and dust quickly settled after the height of the spell's destruction, left behind in the area were the eviscerated, disintegrating remains of the Darkborne, and more beasts filling in the vacant ranks.

"Tch... Fiends all over the shop..." The mage mumbled to himself, before collecting his equipment and made his way to rally with the duo at the front.

"Doing well for yourselves?" Gil spoke up as he approached the Sarmanian duo.

"Just fine and dandy. We'll live... right Uri?" Vera chuckled a bit, as she gasped for air.

"Aye, Kapman..." Uri nodded, conceding with Vera's statement, as they quickly got up from the ground and turned towards the remaining spikethrashers.

Their foes did not pause and stagger from the mage's spell, straying far from their normal habits, having reformed their postures. The Darkbornes enclosed the trio, circling around them with speed, before effectively cutting them off from the forest. All that was left was their determination and sparse vigor in the face of being overwhelmed. Vera, on the other hand, had welcomed a challenge, as she looked over to Gil. The spikethrashers finally made their unanimous charge.

"Uri! Hit the ground! Gil! Use your morningstar on me! Everything you got! We only have one shot at this! Make sure to cloak yourself after!" Vera said, as she got on one knee, and chanted.

"By the Saints, we should've demoed this... Right, here goes-!" Gil replied, bringing up the magical cloak to envelope his form, before reeling back with his weapon, which glowed with an ominous green light, and looked upon his paladin companion expectantly for her word.

Vera's armor quickly erected a forest of metallic spikes, as she grunted audibly, expediting her sharp shell's growth, as the Darkborne encroached ever closer towards the three. Uri on the other hand, had conformed to his superior's orders, and drowned himself in dirt and grass beneath her. His hand attended to his armasa and buckler, aiming at a certain direction. While he did not voiced his concerns, Uri knew what was about to go down, having taken in sight of the paladin's curled up, spiky form. If only she had said so earlier, sparing him from their fate, but it was too late to dwell on such things, as Vera and Gil were about to make short work of their foes. The Darkbornes, now merely five feet around them, were quickly repelled by a shimmering light, as Vera raised her voice to the starry heavens.

"Now!!!" Vera shouted, prompting Gil's hands to follow through with his part.

"May the stars guide us through this terrible night." Gil mumbled, before the morning star went down onto Vera's form, giving off a flash of radiant energy as it impacted a section of the paladin's plate armour. Vera lifted herself up after the strike, and sprung her arms forth, like a glowing angel in the dark depths of the forest's clearing. The mage took a step back as spikes came shooting out of her porcupine-like form upon the morning star's impact. A multitude of deadly spikes departed from the Sarmanian's body, like a live explosive human, covering the thrashers with holes, and quickly stunning a few more. A few whipcracks and whistling sound accompanied the paladin's release, as she quickly rolled away from Gil. While it had seemed like a grandiose display of might, the Guardian's combination of wit and magic has yet to conclude. Gil's cloak, laden with fragments from the paladin's discharge of projectiles, was now adhering to the mage's next course of action. While they did not utter a single word throughout the whole ordeal, Vera and Gil's understanding of one another was more than enough to concoct their creative sets of movements, and perhaps by luck.

"Let them have it, Gil!" Vera said, cueing Gil to commence their second act.

While the spikes did not penetrate the cloak's enchantment, Gil winced at the pain that shot through his body from the multiple impacts. But amidst the pain and chaos of the battlefield, the enchanter felt an enlightenment, like a knowledge subconsciously unlocked. Whatever destructive patterns the spikes carried when they hit him, they suddenly seemed malleable. When his eyes opened, they were flaring intensely with a green light similar to the one eminating from his morningstar. Gil could feel the energy building up in the glittering fabric that enveloped his form, and the warmth of it almost reminiscent to that of an embrace. A wave of energy surged up around the mage, within his veins, and through him. And when the discharge was prime, without a word, Gil turned away from his companions and held up his cloak, showing its insides towards the Darkborne, and out from it came a mighty blast of destructive Light energy, thundering through a section of the beasts' ranks. And so concluded a brilliant confluence of skill, purpose and cohesion, leaving in its wake charred and spiked remains of Dark fiends, slowly disintegrating away into Darkish sprites and dust in the midnight breeze.

The spikethrashers by now, were all but tattered tendrils of their once mighty form, ripe for the taking. Uri recovered from his companion's explosive resolution, and quickly got to work at the behest of Vera's hand signal. Gil and Vera had done their deeds, and it was now up to the spearman to do his part. Getting up, and sprinting at the nearest Thrasher, of which was covered in holes, Uri bashed the creature head-on with his buckler, and quickly swayed over, before lunging his spear into the beast's neck. Down goes his cleave, like a butcher's swing, effectively ending the thrasher's life. One by one, the brisk knight made his way from one thrasher to another, dismantling each one's limbs, denying their whiplash tails, and eventual jab at their vital organs, of which were now all but exposed from the damage they sustained from Vera and Gil's combos. Uri quickly made short work of the wounded thrashers, before being met with the last one standing. He was thrown aback by its active tail, and could only abide by his parrying maneuvers to regain the initiatives. Vera quickly rushed to aid Uri, only to be met by one of its limbs. This one wasn't going to go down without a fight, despite sustaining a surmountable wound to its abdomen.

"Uri! Up you go!" Vera ordered, as she got on one knee and clenched her palms on top of one another, prompting her companion to rush at her.

Uri's feet bounced upon her supporting hands, before leaping upwards. His spear pointing true at his target, as he landed upon the beast's back. The thrasher threw its tail at the man, as he caught it barely with his hands, shying from its fatal end, merely inches from his face. Vera on the other hand, would circle around and took a few swing upon its legs. The creature swayed back and forth, resisting the two's attempt at its demise.

Witnessing his allies' struggle, the mage raised his morningstar and the weapon cracked with violent energy building up within its metallic form. Gil aimed at the thrasher, and fired a coherent beam of Light at the struggling creature restrained by the Sarmanians, knocking off half of his skull, which spattered across the forest floor in the form of steaming Dark matter.

"Excellent shot." Vera commented, as she fiddled with her armasa, before sheathing it within the confines of her waist sash.

Uri jumped from the fading beast, and eyed Gil, before retracting his spear. He passed the mage, with an indiscriminate look of his faceless helmet, briefly eyeing him at a breath's distance.

"You're not dead-weight after all, mage... Let's keep it that way..." Uri remarked softly between him and Gil, before pacing himself over towards Vera. He had seemed less hostile, as compared to the last time the mage landed in the forest.

Gil watched the spearman curiously with a cocked eyebrow, before looking towards Vera from behind the man and shrugged.
"See, that went well. We're already warming up..." Gil mumbled, before speaking up. "Alright pretties, time to get you two fixed. Don't want you frenzying out of control the next time I need someone between me and the beasts."

"The only thing warming up is a boiling pot that I prepared for you, mage." Uri uttered his word ominously, with his back turned.

"Well, at least he's not skewering you for dinner, Gil. Hahaha!" Vera chuckled, before falling on one of her knees.

"Kapman!" Uri exclaimed, as he reached out to support Vera's fall. Bypassing her white armor, the man fixed his eyes on a scarlet dereliction that tainted the paladin's shoulder, of which was only spreading broader by the second. He quickly reached into his own satchel for some bandages. Of her own volition, the reckless paladin had sustained a laceration to her left shoulder. It was only now that she and Uri had realized it. Such was the price of her prideful valor, but the paladin laughed out loud, never minding the stinging bite upon her bloodied arm.


*Translation Notes:
N/A

 

[PsychoticOne]

Name: Vik Gonkor
Race: Half-Orc
Height: 5'9
Weight: 178 lbs

Interact: hostage
Mention: Kabboom (or anybody who saw him fall into the hole)

After the brief introduction with the Ciguapan, Vik switched to his bow to focus on the incoming Darkborne. Teo advanced to fight off her foes in the close range. Vik would assist her from behind, firing at any creatures attempting a sneak attack. Though, the woman was downed at one point. Vik had aimed his bow and arrow towards her assailant, but she easily took care of the problem. "That was close" Vik commented before switching his aim to an incoming Darkwolf. The arrow struck in between its eyes, making it fall forward. The impact ended up slowing down more Darkborne creatures behind it. This thankfully gave Vik easy targets.

As the battle raged on, the two began to work better together. Teo would give Vik's some call outs which helped him stop sudden ambushes. Eventually Vik ran out of arrows again, so he switched back to a sword. Due to that, he'd fight closer to Teo to keep her back secured.

All of a sudden, an earthquake followed by an ambush interrupted the two. Vik was in disarray for a short moment, but when he came to he witnessed the giant Darkborne. "By the gods..." his eyes widen behind the mask. There wasn't much he could do against them, but he'll try support the hard hitters on his side.

Vik followed his companion from behind until suddenly, the ground underneath caved in. A giant spiderlike creature took Vik under. "Shit! Burrower!" he called out at the top of his lungs. It was too late for Vik though. He slashed at the limb that grabbed him which halted the creature, but the poor half-orc had fallen into the darkness within the hole. He rolled around on the ground for a bit before quickly getting up and lighting a torch from his pack. It was clear for now, until he heard the little scurrying of the one he injured. It roared as it charged him. Vik saw this coming and threw the torch in front of the Darkborne. It startled it, so it stopped once again. Vik then reached for something else from the pack. Some oil for his lantern. He threw a small bottle near the torch. Once it shattered, oil splattered around the small area, causing flames to engulf.

The Burrower, now distracted with its burning limps would not see the fatal attack Vik would attempt. The half-orc jumped, using the Burrower's burned legs as assistance, to stab the blade deep into one of its eyes. As it thrashed and tried to throw Vik off, it soon grew limp as the tip of the blade pierced the monster's brain.

Once the Darkborne collapsed, Vik drew the blade out of its eye socket and swung his sword to knock the blood off. He'd then sheath it and walk towards the only light source other than the burning flames. The half-orc looked up towards the exit hole and waved for anybody looking downwards. Hopefully somebody had some rope for him.

 

[Soviet Panda]

'Bear and Lynx would work,' Buras thought to himself as he fought around Maria, 'but these Southlanders know nothing.' Having to fight around someone that did not know the proper way of fighting was infuriating to say the least. Yes, having someone there was better than no one at all. But that simply meant he had to fight around her, and not truly with her. There was hope that this would end, but that would take time. Time he currently did not have as he fought the Darkborne.

So engrossed was he in the fighting that he nearly missed the fireball coming for him. The fact that this fireball looked to be specifically aimed for him made him laugh aloud, the thought that a Darkborne creature held a grudge was funny to him. What wasn't funny, however, was how the Darkborne around him tried to hold him in place, willing to give their lives to see him fall with them. Darkwolves tried locking their jaws around his legs, exmen attempted to slow him by the weight of their numbers. And while they did manage to slow him, he managed to escape a direct hit from the fireball. The resulting explosion, however, hurled him away from his impromptu partner.

Sliding to a stop and quickly scrambling to his feet, he had little time to locate Maria before he was once more set upon by the Darkborne. They had separated the two, making them easier prey. He needed to get back to her if they were to have any hope of at least surviving, let alone reaching that infernal rottapult. He hurled, and promptly lost, an axe at a Thrasher that strayed a bit to close, however a darkwolf jumped in the way, saving the more valuable darkborne. And so Buras took Lytle Systra, it having extended to fit two hands, and swung again and again. He needed to reach Maria, to fight with her, have someone watching over him and him over them as they fought off the horde. They could figure out a better plan once they rejoined.
Trappy

 

[Inheritance]

Lazlo Talonguard​

Whoever said that it was better to light a candle than curse the darkness was a fool. Why would you light a candle and hide in its light, when you could take the purity of your own soul and vanquish whatever foe stood before you? Why stand in purity and love, driving away hatred, jealousy, and fear when those emotions could drive one to such great things? We were humans, or humanoids, and these emotions were what made us strong. Should a warrior saw off his own arm before running into battle? Would a wizard blind himself before aiming a spell of fire and ice? Would a priest renounce his own God before blessing a child? No! So why then, should we cast aside our rage and emotions, as if they are something shameful and something to hide from? What separates the Red Church from the rest of the churches is the truth, and the truth is that we are the chosen ones, with the power of holy light, and a strong mind that does not cast away our hatred and fears, but harnesses it to beat back the darkness with power only St. Randal truly understood! Go now, Lazlo Talonguard. Follow your heart, and find a way to drive back the darkness forever.

Master Nicodemus's words echoed in his head as he ran through the forest. No, echoed wouldn't be the right word. They weren't in his head, they were in his ears. He heard them like he was being spoken to now...he saw Nicodemus's face. He was at the sanctuary. But...how? He had been running...running...

He tripped over a root, his mind jolting back to reality. He shivered as he turned to face his pursuer. He couldn't see them. What was following him? He couldn't for the life of him remember. A red haze had covered his mind, telling him that this was the way he needed to go. He had a goal, and this was it. This direction. He rubbed his eyes, and pointed his staff, a crimson light shining into the dark wood. Ever since he had spent 3 years as a darklight on the front lines, his mind had cracked. Well, it was strange, because he knew he was cracked...which meant he wasn't. But he knew he was, he was too smart to think otherwise. So what did that mean?

It had been a riddle he had been trying to chase for a year now, with no luck. He figured he would always chase it, wondering if he was sane. He heard a noise, and continued his run. Where was he going? His sleeping mind knew. The part of the mind that had gotten drowsy during his years of mental torment at the hands of the Red Church, and that had fallen asleep when he fought the darkness. It sometimes held him, and told him what to do. That must be why he was cracked.

Still running, he began to hear noises. In his head? No. They were real. People? That must be why he was here. He darted towards the voices, wondering who would be out here, and what his sleeping mind had brought him to do.

Kabboom Midrick Trappy Pilgrim59

 

[Pilgrim59]

Vera / Uri / Gil
Hearthfall Season - Night
Outpost, Darkwoods

Interacted: Gil ( Trappy ), Lazlo ( Inheritance )
Mentioned: N/A
​

The Void

Written with: Trappy
​

Despite what his emotionless armet may show, Uri was all but calm at the sight of the wounded Vera. His hand moved fro and forth, conjuring up a tourniquet with what he had on hand. His heart stirred at the sight of Vera’s stained uniform - blanketed by an ever-seeping mark of blood. His armasa tore through her shirt, as Uri tried to look for other afflictions, all the while keeping sight of the breathless Vera, of whom were slowly slipping away from her usual explosive self. The man quickly removed her helmet, tucking her head within his arm. She was quiet, as compared to usual, as Uri attempted to apply the bandages. Vera’s drowsy eyes, accompanied by her ruffled white hair was anything but tranquil. The wounds that she had sustained earlier were kept to herself, at least until now, whence secrets come to die. Lacerations and several avulsion were scattered throughout his patient’s tricep and bicep, the more he go about it. Time was of the essence, but Uri could only do what he can to stem the bleeding, abiding by his finite knowledge of magic. The man eyed Gil briefly, letting off a distinct growl, before exhaling heavily - swallowing his pride.

“Mage! Get over here! I need a hand!” Uri shouted, as his hands applied pressure upon Vera’s wounds. His voice ended with a high note, rarely seen in his general composure. He was desperate.

The Enchanter rushed over and took a knee by his longtime companion, and Uri, before raising his palm towards her wounds and muttered the incantation, his eyes focused. There was a spark, before the spikes which dug itself into various puncture wounds on her form shattered like the fragilest shards of dark volcanic glass.

“Sword cut, spear jab, mace smash, arrow jab
May the white light of healing descend upon thee.
Sword cut, spear jab, mace smash, arrow jab
May the white light of healing stem this blood’s flow…”

In the most bizarre demonstration of the arcane art, as the light of Gil’s palm descended upon his ally’s form, Vera’s wounds begin to close themselves ever so slowly. Though the damage is visibly still present, and the mended flesh so extremely delicate. Gil was not a healer, and his companion would require more extensive care. If only they had the time, or the gift to perform miracles.

“Please handle her gently. It won’t take much for the blood to pour again.” The mage warned.

“...Hm... ” Uri grunted, as he nodded. He could see it in the mage's eyes and demeanor. They both cared deeply for Vera, never minding their contradictions.

Uri’s hand were upon Vera’s neck and arm, checking for pulses, before settling her beneath the shades of a half-torn tree. It will have to do, it has to, the marine thought, as he scanned the treeline around them. Vera, while conscious, was casting her gaze upon the distance. Uri on the other hand, took brief glances at Gil, keeping his words to himself, as he ran by his troubled thoughts. As much as he would like to butcher those who get too close to Vera at times, the mage had proven himself from time to time, ever since Crookenrooten. His teeth clenched at the sight of his bloodied officer, yearning for what could be. She was always the first one to step feet on the field, in distinct light from his own fallacies. Everything around him faded and suppressed, as the man dwelled upon his own failures, failure to keep Vera safe, despite his wishes. Everything became bright and vibrant within the marine’s head, as he found himself in Samo again, where aromas of snowberry ale and soft tugs of the bard’s strings were all that he could hear. Before him was the usual set of kewe eggs and steamed vegetables. Uri looked up and saw a creature in white, of whom’s eyes were filled with unspoken tales from the far reaches of the dull capital. Her gentle smile, and distinct roughness with words caught his heart.

Spoiler: Uri's Flashback

“Still making a few Samtums* at night?” she said softly.

“Aye...” Uri replied, as the two eyed those around them.

“We aren’t born to be slaves, Uri. Look around you. The faces of those who dwell in the present, drowning out their rugged pasts, like those who came before them. You and I are no different. We are enslaved of our own will... Say, you wanna hear a secret?”

Uri’s eyes widened as Vera towered over the table between them, as her words carved deep inside his heart forever since. The tavern would fade into the dim lit fortress of trees around him, as the man sulked in regret. Beneath his faceless helmet, Uri was ever more pressed to fight, despite his trembling hands. He closed his eyes, and took into heart Vera’s words, slowly discerning the blacks and whites of this rugged world. He revised his interests, as they no longer were a part of the marines ever since stepping foot in the wildlands of the Darkwoods. No, they were survivors, and to that end, they must survive, no matter the cost. Yet even so, emotions cannot be ignored, after all, they were sentimental creatures.

Uri reminisced his time at Crookenrooten, following Vera everywhere she might go. For what he had reprimanded the mage for, his hypocrisy was all but undeniable. He too, was no less of a scum compared to the way he perceived Gil. Where the battle had taken its rough course, he had failed to grasp the struggles to find it in himself to give it all. Vera, on the other hand, despite fighting under a different flag, has yet to relinquish her strength and convictions. It was only until now, that the young Sarmanian realized that sometimes losses were unavoidable, no matter how far he would run. The price he had to pay was engraved upon Vera’s flesh.

Spoiler: Uri's Flashback 2

“Take it upon yourself the world, it is your life, Uri. Dare, and the world yields...” a feminine voice echoed within his head, as Uri clenched his fists.

“...That is the secret of this wicked world that we live in.”

Uri was struck by the sheer weight of Vera’s words ever since he joined the Corps. She was right, there was no room for submission. Where others had once perceived him as their plaything, Vera only saw a human being in him. Of all those time that he had spent as a midnight lover for the women of Samo, not once was he perceived as a human being. Uri was all but a tool to satisfy their carnal pleasures, all for a few Samtums. It was Vera, that broke through his solemn heart, and ignited a flame of conviction that instilled deeply within him ‘til this day. Uri eyed Gil, of whom were deep in thoughts just as he was, and gave a slight sigh. Until now, Vera has always been the one to shield them from dangers, and the one to treat them as equals, no matter their rugged pasts. Uri renounced his glooms, and took Vera’s armasa into his own hands, reigniting the fires that she had sparked in him more than a year prior. It was time for him to step up, and make do for what he lacked before. No matter what it takes, Vera, him, and Gil will be home.

"I will protect you, Kapman. No... We, will protect you." the man muttered under his breath, out of earshot.

The enchanter was staring straight at the spearman, who was seemingly lost in a trance of thoughts. ‘Perhaps his hostility are justified’ - he thought - ‘after all, all I do is cower behind their back.’ The sad reality; A tragic comedy - Of all the gifts and magics he possessed, who was he in all this? A coward? Deadweight? Vera never once labelled such titles to him, yet he continued to prove her wrong by letting the girl dash into danger while cowering from a distance. Vera - the paladin who was perhaps one of the few who’ve earned his trust, perhaps one of the few the mage dared call friends in his life of a runner. Was it not her name that escaped his mouth when inquired by the Grandmaster for this assignment? Those of the Order clearly understood the weight and danger of this quest to have allowed him to give them names. Vera was clearly the person for the job, but stay at a distance while the paladin repeatedly throw herself at fiends and foes of all shapes and kind. Is that not cowardice? Has he been using her all this time?

Stop this rambling. The mage averted his gaze towards the paladin in Uri’s embrace. He had much to prove still, and by the stars of his birth, he will.

Blink. Chill ran down his spine - a staunch reminder snapped Gil back to reality. One of the fiends that lurked still in the trees around them. The mage spoke up.

“Perhaps we should get moving. Beasts don’t wait, and Vera is in no shape.”

“I concur. Up until now… The Kapman has always been our guardian. T’is time we take the torch, and light this whole wicked place up...” Uri said, emerging from the shadows of the trees with a pair of armasas in his hands.

A few rustling sound of the nearby bushes grabbed Uri’s attention, as he pointed towards a general direction, cueing the Mage to concede to his call in silence. His body movement and combat posture was more than enough for words, urging the two to remain on guard for whatever came their way. On his part, Gil raised his weapon in the direction Uri gestured towards. It glowed and hummed in his grip. Before long, a figure in red emerged from the shadows, donning robes and an arcane staff that distinguished him from the usual uninvited guests that the trio had greeted earlier with their weapons.

“Identify yourself!” Uri said, with his armasa erecting into a pair of spears, pointing straight at the stranger in red.



*Translation Notes:
1. Samtums: Sarmanian currency, issued before the Simerian War in order to deflect inflation, as well as an ad-hoc supplementary currency alongside that of the Imperial ones in Sarmania.

 

[Inheritance]

Lazlo Talonguard​

The haze he had been in only seconds before was gone. His mind was calm, clear, like a diamond lake with no ripples. No longer was his thoughts a whirlwind of emotion and broken memories, but a sharp weapon that could analyze and bring forth perfect logic and memory. Instantly he recognized how threatening he looked, his long crimson robes and his shining staff. In this forest, he did not look like any sort of ally. He knew he would only have a few words to gain these stranger's trust, as he believed he was brought here to do.
"Certainly. I am Lazlo Talonguard, one of the guardians. I have been sent by the powers that be to aid you." He said lightly. Guardians were typically trusted in his experience, and while he certainly was not one of them, he had watched and seen what they did, and how they acted. He was a darklight, after all, and much more experience fighting against the dark than he believed anyone else did-considering he lived.

Surveying the situation, he saw that there was an injured woman that the others were protecting. Seeing his chance to prove himself, he targeted that. "I can prove it. I see your friend is injured there-I happen to be an excellent healer. Let me mend her wounds, and rid her of disease." He offered. He was confident in his abilities to heal, especially now, as he hadn't been in any sort of fighting. He was stronger than ever, and ready to prove it. He took off his hood, revealing his scarred face. "By the looks of her, you don't have much time to decide. Assuming you want her to survive, this forest can be quite dangerous..." He added, trying to usher in urgency. She didn't look too terrible, and would probably live, though it wouldn't be easy to escape this place in her state.

Pilgrim59

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

The mood lightened slightly for a moment with Bron's wholehearted response, but it quickly it returned to seriousness once more not seconds after, she could see it in Bron's face, it was definitely not the time to joke around. They both began to move, and Bron led to her to a fortress, she nodded determinedly at his request and quickly climbed up, reaching the higher floors. Once she arrived at one of the higher levels, she was greeted with turning faces... some filled with confusion, some with anger. However, in the crowd of judging and confused faces, she coult spot a familiar face that stood out from the rest: the elven archer from the hunting grounds, whom she had met earlier that same day. More relieved, the little elf ran up to him with a flourish. recognitionspread across his face, and a small grin formed, from his mouth came out some words of encouragement, motivating the young elf to begin.

And encouraged she did, taking out her bow and arrows, and beginning to shoot at whatever she could spot, sometimes hitting the same innocent tree here and there. Pip and Tooth rested at her feet, exhausted from the earlier fight, Leafa felt exactly the same way, and wanted to do exactly the same thing, but she did her best to continue.

SilverFlight

 

[Pilgrim59]

Uri
Hearthfall Season - Night
Outpost, Darkwoods

Interacted: Gil ( Trappy ), Lazlo ( Inheritance )
Mentioned: N/A
​

The Red Woods​

Uri studied the man's attires, as well as his complacent tone. He possessed a clear mind, despite the situation, of which had distinguished himself from that of a Darkborne. Uri was less keen on buying Lazlo's words for a 'guardian', although he certainly looked like one, given his clergyman-like apparels, as well as his humane physical traits. The Sarmanian prolonged his inquiries, while keeping a certain distance from Lazlo, with his spears steady in his hands. If anything, he only grew more cautious ever since Vera was wounded. There something unsettling about the man that Uri has yet to decipher, as mysteries continue to amount within his train of thoughts. Of all places, this particular chaplain had chosen for himself this very place. Perhaps by chance of fate, or something far more sinister that what meets the eye? Uri could only abide by his faith in his feat of arms for the time being. Before long, the man stepped forth.

The spearman remained on guard, with his weapons still pointing at the man. He took note of the man's perception upon their injured companion, and was only ever more concerned of what Lazlo's next intentions were. Uri's sharp eyes stalked the man's movements, taking into his mind the armored cleric's little gestures, planning ahead of what he would do in case the the latter attempted to do the unthinkable. Of course, it was all speculations within the young marine's head, an example of most marines when thrown into the chaos of battle. Uri had his distrusts, but trusts only wither by the seconds, and with it, Vera's lifeline.

"I can prove it..." the man in red stepped forth, prompting Uri to raise his spears.

"...I see your friend is injured there-I happen to be an excellent healer. Let me mend her wounds, and rid her of disease." Lazlo offered, breaking Uri's thoughts. While the latter had initially averted the man's waltz towards Vera, his concerns for the paladin was of the utmost urgency, and with it, the cleric had dissuaded him from throwing his spears about. But Uri remained close.

As Lazlo unveiled his face, Uri studied his visage, adorned with the marks of conflict upon his rough skin. The man has clearly seen a lot of battle, or at least enough to have his face carved in with facial dereliction. Uri acknowledged these facts, but was even more vigilant in his course of actions. He did not have much faith in those that adorned the chapters of war upon themselves, himself included. They tend to be unpredictable, and are more than likely to be scarred from within more than they do on the outside. Battles took its toll from those that lived through one, he deemed it, as the harsh realities were more than one can bear. And the aftermath was less than favorable for those that have had their share of blood and steel. Vera was no exception, despite her eccentric personality. Uri knew this, as his commander would push herself beyond the limit of a common folk, and while she did not display any signs of mental breakdown, Uri could see it in her coping mechanisms. By being vibrant to counter her darker thoughts, Vera was all the more a speculative case of an intrinsic dweller, knowing full well of the consequences of her actions. This only propelled Uri to be thorough in his steps, as Lazlo examined Vera's wounds.

"By the looks of her, you don't have much time to decide. Assuming you want her to survive, this forest can be quite dangerous..." the man spoke, reeling Uri back into reality.

"Tch!... The outpost is the eye of the storm, we'll have to fashion for ourselves here. Very well. Do what you can with her, reverend. We'll buy you time should trouble come this way." Uri stated, having taken into sight the situation at the outpost from the distance.

It would be reckless to withdraw back to the outpost, given the roving Darkborne presence and the enormous threats that were the Cerebrates. For the time being, letting Lazlo treat Vera would be for the best, despite Uri's contradictory thoughts. Wasting no time, Uri sheathed his armasas and made haste. With a few branches in his hands as he go about their perimeter, the spearman utilized what little magic he had learned in Karelia to set a few wires around them. A few enchanted branches and barks for his fragmentation traps, and a few others with sharp garrote wires that he had fashioned a few days prior in case he needed to procure a fencing area. As he rounded up his task, Uri passed by Gil, pointing towards a certain tree just above them. The tree that Uri had marked was embellished with Uri's enchanted branches, enough to collapse it to the side and provide extra cover for them, and if timed right, would be enough to crush a few Darkbornes with it.

"Should they have us overwhelmed, aim for that tree, mage. For Vera's sake, I trust you with this." Uri stated ominously, as he turned away to scan the treelines, of which were now laden with a series of wires and faintly-glowing tree barks. He knew the endgame, as did Gil, if all things should go south, everything around them would burn.



*Translation Notes:
N/A

 

[Kabboom]

Sgt. Eiglen

Sergeant Eiglen had been spending most of his time barking at the newbloods, and silently cursing the Imperials’ focus on melee combat instead of ranged warfare. Of course, it made a lot of sense, considering how the ebb and flow of anti-Darkborne warfare eventually boils down to hitting the Dark with your fists and hoping that they’ll catch a disease when you choke up your own blood at them. Ranged warfare was going to be the future, assuming the Empire would last long enough to actually reach said future, but Lord of Light be damned if any of these stupid rookies actually hit something on their first volley.

Enough of this shit. It was high time he took to the field. Jericho just took down one of the Cerebrates coming over the rear wall, and some other armor-clad power-guy is gonna manhandle the other two. Interesting choice of a close combat opponent, but who is he to complain? That armor looks tough enough to take the hits.

That just left the blokes on the field to the front. Just like the nights before this, the field is full of Darkborne, and they’re all angry and-or dying as soon as they step onto the darkened glades of grass. There was also a weird addition to the picture, namely, the full squad of Conquerors kicking ass and throwing ‘nades on the field, with their sick crossbows, and the Sarmanian duo working with other folks from the reinforcement group to lick the treeline clean of Spikes. All that’s missing is the constant Rottapult fire, the screeching of the viscount, the crunching of debris, the screaming of the wounded and the stench of blood mixed with dirt and stone, and then it’ll be just like the nights before.

Lieutenant Finn came around, however, and relieved him of the gunnery squad on the first level’s wall. Eiglen couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity. On a day like this, men like him should be having fun. And although fighting Darkborne at night is hardly a good example of ‘fun’, the old Sergeant bore a grin on his face as he snatched an extra shortsword and smacked a few of his guys on the back, urging them to follow him as he charged out the opening.

Hooting at Terra and Kaelynn as they slid past, Eiglen and the boys joined the Conquerors at the front. The groove of melee combat against the Dark shitstains had become a regular dance for the old Sergeant, and the tempo of the waltz sometimes made itself audible, which made for a pretty good fight, sometimes. The moves were simple, and picking up on it was easy, provided that the dancer didn’t suck at moving, and wasn’t prone to sudden Dark incisions onto their body.

Step right, step left and duck, deflect strike, kick, spit, thrust, flick wrist, riposte, stab, kick, spit again, stab for good measure. That’s one Burrower and two Darkwolves down, and Eiglen moved on as a nearby Conqueror took the liberty of chucking a Hissbomb down the shaft of the tunnel he just cleared. Fighting with a bastard sword in one hand and the acquired shortsword in another, the guardsman moved like a fiery storm - nowhere near as fierce as his younger comrades, or the deadly berserkers on the expedition team, but a force to be reckoned with nonetheless.

Moving on to another one, he rushed forward of his comrades. The moon shimmered off of his swords, grinding together with ear-splitting grit as the blades touched roughly, after both having gone through a Manwalker’s ugly eye sockets at slightly different angles. Flicking the abomination aside, Eiglen looked down into the hole, checking for more Darkfools to come to their deaths.

What the fuck? How’d an orc get in there?

The greenskin stood out against the dark cover of the ground, just enough to be picked up by the human eye. Apparently this one had gotten into a spot of bother, and considering how the guy was looking up at him, he was an ally. His armor and gear solidified that theory, and it was clear that the orc was on their side. Somehow. Did he miss this one when the convoy rolled in?

Dropping his swords, Eiglen came to help. Drawing his combat knife just in case this was some Darkborne fuckery, he ordered one of his boys to grab his legs and start pulling when he put his heels together. Then he simply crawled into the hole. “Hang on, buddy, we’ll get ya outta there.”

Dirt and grime was messing up his armor, and it didn’t feel comfortable at all. But considering that all of his pent-up injuries and ailments contracted over the course of his time at this outpost had just been healed by that kind healer lady before this fight started, this was as comfortable as he’d felt in months. Shit, maybe even years. Grabbing the orc with his one free hand, his knife hand clutched the dirt as he focused on his grip, and putting his heels together.

“Alright, get outta there…” Eiglen grumbled under his breath, as he got pulled out of the hole along with the orc dude. They were going to get out soon. Then it’s back to the fighting-

That rumbling. That rumbling in his ears. In his throat. In the back of his spine, running down his ribs. Something big is coming. Coming fast. Panicking behind his squinting eyes, Eiglen hustled and clawed at the dirt to get out of the damned tunnel faster. The rumbling sounded like it was going to shatter his very bones, and the pair got out in the nick of time, with Eiglen’s panicked strength hurling the orc a ways backwards, onto one of his men. Springing up to a standing position with both swords in hand, his words of warning were cut short, as the ground gave way, and the ‘something big’ revealed itself.

“What the fuc-” were all he uttered, as one of its limbs rocketed out of the ground, crushing his ribs and sent him flying.


Jericho Audaton

Two Cerebrates down, and Pryonn moves in for the third. Between him and the guardsmen, that third Cerebrate should be toast. One less thorn in their side, in that case. Aymeline's incandescent connection to the faraway Network stood out like a lamp in the dark, to Lightborne and Darkborne alike. Whereas everyone feels it in the form of an overwhelming sense of safety and security, the Dark taste it like the curdling blood of their prey, and are inevitably drawn towards it, like sharks closing in on bleeding whales.

Snatching his Glaive after wading through the decomposing corpse of the Cerebrate that he felled, Jericho inspected the damage. The blade was, of course, flawless, but the handle had taken a fair bit of damage from falling down an entire wall. He probably should take care in swinging the thing, but the fight against the Darkborne can become very close, very suddenly. There's a reason why the Conquerors have bayonet hooks on their crossbows, and blade extension hooks on their bayonets.

A deafening rumble crashed into his ears, like a sucker punch to the senses. Pressing his ears tightly, and looking outwards at the entrance, Jericho was the first to move, as everyone else was slightly taken aback by the sudden noise. Rushing to the entrance, the mounds of rubble and ground debris coming down was enough to give everyone a bad death beneath the weight. Using his Shield Aura to protect as many Conquerors as possible on the field, as well as Terra and Kaelynn, the rock and dirt simply cracked upon the blue auras, like eggs forcefully divulging their contents to the touch of a hard rock. Those guardsmen atop the walls simply fell backwards voluntarily, relying on their ropes to keep them beneath the battlements, shielding them from the large amounts of descending rubble. The results were acceptable; only a few casualties, either from not jumping in time, or having their ropes severed and falling down.

The walls held. They would always. Whether this night would end with them staying alive or not is another story entirely. Stepping out of the entrance, Jericho took to the field and gazed upon the thing.

Oh come on.

Towering above the battlefield, the Heidelisk breached the surface of the Front, standing between the Treeline and the outpost. Its hard shell crest reaching up to the equivalent of the outpost's second level, this unholy abomination of the shadows reveals its array of deadly weapons, having fully surfaced from the subterranean depths. With two thick crab-like lowermost legs being the support platform for its unbelievably large body, the being bears four scythe limbs, each of which are large and lengthy enough to properly dissect an equally sizeable unarmored Giant, should the face-off occur. The flesh of its underbelly was laid bare, with hideous frothing maws adorning its stomach area, if it had one. Red gashes mending seamlessly with jagged carapaces, the entire visage resembled a crab spliced with a worm, with a healthy blend of unspeakable horror mixed in for flavor. Its two blue eyes stared with the ferocity of a predator, as it flexed its head-horn with a series of unnerving crunches.

As the monstrous abomination of thick insect-like carapaces and baring sabre-like fangs and pinchers emerged from the overgrown forest ground like an erecting mountain of pure Darkness, the sorceress Margot stepped up to confront the new threat from her defensive stance. With a roaring, authoritative voice, she commanded Guardsmen and other combatants to steer clear of the hulking Heidelisk which soon casted a shadow over them on the battlefield. Margot reached out towards Aymeline’s beacon as she started muttering the Elvish incantations of her magic, which sang like an ancient melody, older than the Churches’ Commandments or the druidic codes. She reached out her other hand towards the Heidelisk, and from it shot out a bolt of lightning, its energy crackling violently on the way. The lightning bolt jumped from beast to beast until it hit the large target, sending the leviathan stumbling backwards into the crater from whence it came, and leaving behind a trail of horribly charred corpses of Dark fiends in its wake, crumbling away into black ash and dust. The air smelled of burned ozone.

The entire encounter seemed a bit anticlimactic, but if only it was that easy. With a chittering that resonated within the eardrums, the Heidelisk rose again, pushing itself upright with a flick of its scythe-limbs. Landing on its front limbs with a thump, the Heidelisk grumbled a bit, if Darkborne could even grumble, and begun lurching forward.

The Darkborne pushed on. They would always.


Within the semi-safe hideout of the Sarmanian-led group of berserkers, something was up. Well, aside from the big fuck-off monster that just rose out of the ground. The sounds of the forest suddenly sounded... dissonant, distant. Like they no longer mattered within the scope. Even the screeching of the Heidelisk sounded so insignificant, with the audible silence building up to something else. Something higher. Something more sinister.

Out of the darkness, five corkscrew darts whiz through the air, embedding themselves within the male Sarmanian in the easily-identifiable white armor. Not armor-piercing, but hurtful enough to disrupt activity. Just the way it should be. And then it came out. Like a blur, it slammed into Pat with a thud, its left hand indistinguishable from a blade, as it mauled the berserker badly as it dragged him across the dirt, before parting and springing up into a tree, clutching onto the bark sideways, glancing back down.

Raven black armor, accompanied with a whirling Dark glow, akin to a biological typhoon, was strewn across the abomination, as it stared without breathing, and saw without seeing. Its neck was indubitably twisted several times over, with beady black eyes boring into every member of the small group. A vertical gash, residual of the cut that felled it when it was still a servant of the Lightborne, ran from neck to abdomen, dripped Dark ooze, infecting the tree with its putrid corruption. And to top it all off, the thing had a pair of wings. Owlish limbs extending outwards like an insult to the nature it stood upon, the wings were adorned with black feathers, warped by the glow of Dark.

Without a word, it stared. Then dove for an attack.

-robert- Trappy Soviet Panda Pilgrim59 Epiphany PsychoticOne Octo Girl SilverFlight LoneSniper87 ShadeAlucard Midrick Unwavering Knight Spireshade hostage Slop Inheritance Taraninja16 QizPizza

 

[Inheritance]

Lazlo Talonguard​

After being granted permission, he quickly moved over to the injured soldier. He put his hands on the wound, and closed his eyes. He could feel the life flowing within her, and quickly located her damaged tissue even underneath the mended skin. His trained eye quickly found her problem, and how to fix it. Strangely enough, her skin was whole, and it took him a second to realize a healing attempt had already been made. This was sloppy work, he could have done better work with a string and one hand.

"Who did this? You can't put a shirt over an arrow wound and expect the wound to go away!" He muttered, though it was certainly loud enough for others to hear. "I can fix it, but it will take a bit of time because I can't see exactly what I am healing." He didn't know who did this, but he was already annoyed. Wizards thinking they could do everything was something that annoyed him quite a bit, and of course there was some stupid wizard who thought this justified as any sort of help.

He murmured a quick prayer, and began to emit life energy from his palm, healing the wounded tissue within. Only a few seconds into his healing, he was distracted by a great crash that was followed by a hideous beast storming into the area. Great. Just what we needed. He cursed under his breath.

"Give me some time! I will have her healed soon!" He yelled out, before drawing a quick circle around them with his staff. "Kala varana gweti" He chanted, the circle glowing with a scarlet light. It wouldn't do much, but it would protect them from gusts of wind or anything that might knock them around. A direct attack from this creature would go through it like a bull through a pane of glass, so he quickly returned to healing. His skill in the healing arts was great, and he could feel his magic working wonders. She would be fine, assuming he could finish his spell. Despite his own belief his purpose was greater than anyone of the people here, he couldn't bring himself to leave her. He would continue healing until she was full, whether it took his life or not.

His eyes never left her, nor his work. He had to trust that the others could protect them long enough for him to heal. He didn't need much, just a little bit longer...

Pilgrim59 Midrick Trappy

 

[QizPizza]

[class=wrapperDiv] background-color: #0d0d0d; color: #fff; padding: 10px; [/class] [class=innerDiv] padding: 10px; [/class] [class=bigHeader] background-color: #b38600; color: #fff; font-size: 20px; font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; padding: 5px; [/class] [class=header] height: 30px; background-color: #b38600; color: #fff; font-size: 16px; font-family: Verdana; text-align: center; width: 100%; padding-top: 4px; [/class] [class=tabWrapper] height: 34px; background-color: #b38600; color: #fff; font-size: 16px; font-family: Verdana; text-align: center; width: 100%; [/class] [class=tab] cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; width: 50%; padding-top: 4px; [/class] [class name=tab state=hover] background-color: #e6ac00; height: 30px; [/class] [script class=tab on=click] hide tabsContent set currentTab (getText) if (eq ${currentTab} POST) (show tabsPost) if (eq ${currentTab} "OTHER INFO") (show tabsOtherInfo) [/script]
[div class=wrapperDiv][div class=bigHeader]FADING FLAMES[/div]

[div class=header]AUDUN AND TARYN[/div]

[div style="font-size:9px; font-style: italic; text-align:center"]Credit to ElectricPizza[/div]​

[div class=tabWrapper][div class=tab style="border-top-left-radius: 5px;"]POST[/div][div class=tab]OTHER INFO[/div][/div][div class="tabsContent tabsPost"]
Amidst the siege of the outpost Audun looked out on the battlefield to see the Heidelisk approaching the outpost's walls. He shifted uncomfortably in his armor as the large Dark presence filled the air. His hands clutched Harmonious Discord and the Deimos Lance tighter and tighter as it approached. This among one of the larger Darkborne the Nephilim has encountered, and perhaps one of the most challenging, especially when not even the impressive power from the Sorceress could faze it. As the beast approached, Audun's weapons transformed; Harmonious Discord turned from a standard shaped greatsword into an armorslayer and the Deimos Lance extended into its full length. Taking a deep breath Audun Evolved his injured wings to give them some use in the fight.

Spreading his wings, he leaped off of the the outpost's walls and glided towards the Heidelisk. As he dove down into the fray, he targeted a massive bladed claw and hacked at them. He got three strikes in before he landed in the ground beside the beast, but none of the blows so much as scratched the carapace. Growling in frustration, Audun changed his target to one of the massive legs of beast to slow it down in some capacity.


As the Nephilim attempted to damage the Heidelisk, Taryn remained at the second level of the outpost. There was no use in her entering the melee when there were much more "willing bodies". Rather, she kept on creating holograms. The Succubus created as many as she could at any given moment and distributed them across the battlefield to give the Darkborne distractions so as to make the jobs of the "willing bodies" easier.

Among those she created, Taryn reserved three holograms with the visage of towering knights in shining plate. As impressive as they looked, they couldn't harm a horsefly, but that's not where they excelled. She sent the four out over the walls barreling towards the Heidelisk in what looked like a blind charge before breaking off to 'assault' the beast from every direction. She didn't bother cloaking herself at this distance and channeled her energy to impart the holograms more Light than usual. However, begin that the living Light battery that is Aymeline stands, the expense of Light was negligible to the amount Taryn could draw from the giantess.
[/div][div class="tabsContent tabsOtherInfo" style="display: none;"]

LOCATION: Outpost

PHYSICAL STATE: Moderately Injured (Audun), Lightly Injured (Taryn)

MENTAL STATE: Nebulous (Audun), Confident (Taryn)

INTERACTIONS: Kabboom (GM)

MENTIONS: Epiphany

NOTES: Audun and Taryn are now NPCs that are currently my control. If you want to borrow them, ask me and we can discuss the details for your take over.

[/div]

[div class="tabsContent tabsOtherInfo" style="display: none;"][/div]

[div class="tabsContent tabsOtherInfo" style="display: none;"][/div]
[div style="font-size:9px; font-style: italic; text-align:right"]Code by QizPizza[/div][/div]

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn and Kaatl: Going at last Cerebrate

All things, no matter how solid and permanent they might seem, were liable to physical corruption. Indeed, the very processes of construction and creation foreshadowed destruction and decay. The palace of the today was the ruin of the tomorrow, the maiden of the morning was the crone of night, and the hope of a moment was but the foundation stone of everlasting regret.

What was the response of living men to this undeniable and inevitable futility of life? Was it to lie down, accept death and the coming to nought of every endeavor? Of course not! Faced with the inevitability of death, what answer could there be but to run through life at a breakneck pace, cramming each day with hope, laughter, noise and bustle? Thus, happiness and human endeavor were sired by a coming to terms with decay and futility.

The living knew they would die, and the knight knew that he would live in misery, disease and torment, yet he drove this knowledge into a corner of the mind and kept it pinioned there with all manner of dreams and activity. This realisation was the key to understanding why Pryonn was doing what he did, contradictory or even perverse his nature appeared to be. The abandon, the energy with which he cast himself at danger, came from defiance born of despair and hopelessness.

"It shall not be! Darkling, flee! I challenge you to battle me!" the knight chanted upon the cerebrate's alien visage as he charged the monster with his lance held high. The beast's many eyes coldly regarded the preyborne that so foolishly charged straight towards its front, innumerable limbs and claws readied to check the challenger without even slowing its steady gait.

When the plated one strode into range, the monster's dozens of pincers struck in baleful unity, a veritable swarm of bladed limbs unleashed upon the knight, intent on striking a quick killing-blow. In response, the knight raised his flail, the weapon spontaneously exuding multiple heads each moved by iron-will. From all across the battlefield, more discarded iron came, blades and pieces of all kind flying at the monster while the knight struck out with his multi-headed flail, its many bludgeons moving to intercept the cerebrate's attacks.

"Your mightings I with scorn defy, your menace shall never rattle me!"

The monster halted in its tracks, its alien mind aghast as the impudent knight held against it, every wanton limb, tentacle and pincer locked up simultaneousely by bludgeon, blade and steel. The knight marched forth, driving on a lone-brought troop of weapons to battle the monster at its best, to beat it where it was meant to be unbeatable. "Pryonn Repiner is coming to attend you!" he sang with joyous voice, laughing intermittendly "To smash you to smithereens and put a final end to you!" As the knight struck his flail and strode with his lance, the cerebrate's attacks were launched with unremitting might, seeking any way to tear through the knight's audacious onslaught. Bits and pieces of pincered limbs managed to find their way through, striking at the knight's plated body, if not to kill then at least to weaken through many cuts. But the knight simply sang as the beast sliced at him, the pain coursing through his body serving as reminder of his purpose - holy purity and lady gorgeous!

The deadly contest resounded far - the two opponents's struggle exuding the sounds of a battlefield in its very own right as dozens upon dozens of limbs and metals clashed upon eachother. The knight was suffering his toll, his stride audacious but his task so tall, rivulets of blood seeping from whence the cerebrate's pincers had struck through his defence. "Pain - pleasure - equal measure!" He laughed at the beast, its limbs twirling in frustration as the preyborne didn't go down and instead steadily advanced through its unceasing offence upon its gathering of eyes, its banner tauntingly raised in defiance of its hulking form. Having had enough, its menacing tail sprung into position, crashing down towards the knight for quick impalement. The knight responded by redirecting his tendrils of steel from the smallest pincers - opening his defences for the least dangerous of cerebrate limb - while simultaneousely smashing his flail into the stinger. Just barely enough to shove aside the bone-breaking blow, his torso taking more cuts as his defence was opened, Pryonn finally reached his mark - the monster's array of eyes, each a soft target perfect for his cause.

"I am become as steel -" he chanted as he drove his banner-lance into the cerebrate's eye, steel-tip tearing through gelatinous tissue. At the same time, the beast's stinger came back into hurried position to launch its last desperate offence, slamming down into the distracted knight with rib-crushing strength. The dim sound of chitin ramming into metal resounded, Pryonn's form shuddering under the terrifying force of the blow, his mind registering the breaking of several ribs, his breathing becoming laboured underneath his inwardly-dented chestplate. The knight's form slackened and the beast saw its chance, renewing its assault of limbs, intent on finally disposing of this impudent figure.

"... Mountain defying the consuming sea!" the knight's voice spat at the beast with roaring spite, his banner-arm driving on the spear, launching the steel-tip deep inside. Lodged inside the monster's innards, the metal expanded, whirled and drilled, the beast shuddering in confused instability as within the knight drove onwards. The banner-blade exuded spikes as it whirled, growing at alarming rate, the hulking monster quivering and twitching in chitinous bedazzlement as its innards where being impaled and torn apart rapacious inch by violating inch. Finally, the iron-spikes tore through the entirety of the beast, tearing from its mammoth form amidst the breaking of chitinous plates and the monster's creaking death-throes. With an ear-shattering shriek, the cerebrate's form finally went still, its innards torn and filled with metal.



Kabboom (Cerebrate dead)

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron had long lost count of how many Crawlers, Darkwolves and other Darkborne he felled. Every moment he had a chance to take a breath he struck at the walls of their tunnels, collapsing rock and rubble on their heads. He was vaguely aware of other soldiers doing the same. The occasional scream mixed in with the hellish howls of the monsters. His grip was slicked with darkborne blood, his fur sticky with it. He wasn't a big fan of baths, but even he had to admit it would be nice if he lived through the fight.
Stop the bastards from getting to Aymeline. The giantess was still providing them with the strength of the light. She was the beacon for the troops too, and irritatingly, it seemed she was also the best lure for the creatures.
There was another deep quake. Bron knew it was coming this time. He had felt the damn creature moving up through the earth, it was impossible for him to miss. When the Heidelisk finally did break the surface Bron felt the words slip from his tongue. A sense of hopelessness tried to creep over him but he caught it and quashed it.
"Hold this point! Clean up the stragglers!" He ordered the remaining soldiers before turning his attention to their new, behemoth of a target.
The fort was a mess, rubble and ruin everywhere, though Bron had to admit he was impressed with those walls. They must have been spelled or something, because no ordinary stone structure would bear such violent earthshakes. As he ran he passed a canvas lean-to with supplies, buried under a fallen archway. With his magic it didn't take him long to clear the debris away. There was a spare box of grenades and Bron picked one up, admiring the construction of it. He looked up to the Heidelisk, and it's gaping, tooth-ridden maws and suddenly he had an idea. Bron grabbed the box and ran to get to the remainder of the battlements, aiming to put himself between the casters and the creature.

He found Jericho and some of the new recruits recovering from the falling rock caused by the gargantuan beast.
"Hey!" He called in a tone that was almost cheerful. He held up the box of explosives, tossing a grenade up once and catching it. "You up for a little game?"
It was a very long shot, but Bron sighted on one of the Heidelisk's gnashing mouths on it's stomach as it towered over the battlements. He pulled the pin, aimed and threw, throwing straight for it's center.
"Ten points if you chuck an explosive in one of the little mouths, twenty if you get it in the big one! The prize is we might not die!"

Kabboom Octo Girl LoneSniper87

 

[Pilgrim59]

Uri
Hearthfall Season - Night
Outpost, Darkwoods

Interacted: Gil ( Trappy ), Pat ( Midrick ), Lazlo ( Inheritance )
Mentioned: N/A
​

The Red Woods II​

Uri's eyes narrowed, as he felt a series of stinging bites that were scattered throughout his body. He looked down to find a collection of darts that dotted throughout his chest plate. While it did not penetrated his armor, the dents on his armor were distasteful, as if someone had bruised his abdomen and thorax. He was careless. The assailant unveiled itself in a whirlwind of black and red, a manifestation of an unholy child born from the darkness. The marine, pinned to a tree, studied the creature's physique and murderous intents. One by one, Uri dismantled the darts, as he crushed them in his hands. Adorned with hatred, the young man scowled at the monster, universally ticked off by its uninvited presence. He clenched his fists tightly, as he got up from the ground.

With Pat thrown off his feet, and the herculean diving in for another strike at the standing members, Uri conceded to the urgent call of his duty - he had to protect Vera and Lazlo at all costs. That much was clear, he deemed, as he rolled to the side and picked up his armasa. The man's agile and fluid movement spared him from the creature's attack, but before he knew it, Uri contracted a light concussion, as one of its limb swept the man to the side, after all, it was armed to the teeth - physically and figuratively. Everything turned black abruptly upon his landing, but he could still hear his breath, the creature's reticent groans, as well as his sore chest from the darts earlier. Uri knew that he had cheated death, for no ghosts would be plagued with earthly pains, or so he thought. It was one of those perception of death that the druids had instilled in his enlightenment back in Sarmania, but he had his doubts, as no one really knew what would happen if they were to die until it did.

The marine ran his gloves upon his helmet, feeling an edged sensation upon his seemingly-breached visor - his headgear was out of commission. Uri exhaled with a certain sense of relief. While death to the man was nothing short of a place to traverse after failing to converse with one's purpose in the physical plane, the thought of dying and being suddenly abducted from what he was used to, was in itself a fabricated sense of fear. For most, it was a fearful thing to behold, and the climatic buildup to it only heightened one's reflection of life as they are about to pass. Uri was no different, however, he had retained a strong will to carry on his mission. Even in death, he was as stubborn as he was in life, never yielding his course no matter how rugged or coarse the path may be. What remained of the creature's image in his head was ever more vivid in the confines of his helmet's pitch-black darkness. His head was pounding him in from the concussive force that almost collapsed in on his helmet. Voices rang throughout his head.

"Do you remember?
Under the stars of Aether?
...fufufufu..."

A slender figure appeared before him, despite the jet-black darkness of the wicked night.

"Get out..." Uri whispered, clenching his teeth as the sultry, but provoking voice instilled a certain sense of fear in him. The figure grew into two, then three, then a multitude of familiar faces.

"I am far from done with you, Uri. Your potentials are mine and mine alone to exploit. Night by night...
... perhaps it is better to come home with us?...
... give in to your heart's desire. Never minding the troubles of the world...
... don't you see? You're already broken..."

"I SAID GET OUT!!!" he shouted in his head louder this time, throwing his helmet onto the ground, as his blurry perception of a woman before him dissipated at the impact of the lifeless metallic headgear.

Even to this day, his pasts have slipped in between his darker times, taking opportune dusk and dawn to corrupt his mind. Every visage and every being that once stood before him were all memorable. He felt helpless. Every one of them had treated him as a toy, and that feeling was only getting worse in the situation that he found himself in right now. Who is the enemy? He did not know what to believe. Vera's words could not break through to the man's closed feelings. Uri was questioning his beliefs, what he was fighting for. Where others suffer from the physical symptoms of their remarkable powers as a Guardian, Uri was still human. He was neither a master of both worlds, nor was he, himself, considered a Guardian to start with. How did it come to this? He wondered, discerning himself from the core beliefs of all that is evil - humanity itself. Where the World of Light stood grand in its luminescent array of justice, the Darkbornes were nothing short of a balance to counter-act such hubris. There was nothing exceptionally good, or exceptionally evil. Moralities and ethics are nothing but a disciplinary doctrine for a sophisticated creature. These thoughts plagued the young marine, as he recovered from his fall. Slowly but surely, he got up to his feet.

One thing was certain, in a world where black and white mingles - every living being was precious in its own ways. No matter what path one takes, it is inevitably the journey that crafts their fate. As such, it was Uri's road with Vera, Gil, Pat, and Lazlo that was chosen for him. He had to do his bit, despite the hardships that he deemed unworthy of his cause. He had to take a stand. He had to exceed the blinded eyes. Uri was not going to live in the shadows any longer.

"Scarlet Bark!" Uri shouted, as he swung into action, throwing one of his armasa at the monster, while cutting one of his tripwires in his path.

POOMF! POOMF! POOMF!

A series of explosion occurred beneath the creature's path, spewing forth an array of minor detonations that rendered the monster's movements staggered. He knew it would come to this, where magic would be a better choice than cold steel alone. Seizing the fiery night's embrace, Uri followed up on his trick and retrieved his armasa, of which was tugged from the Darkborne's limb. The dual-wielding spearman spun his weapons left and right, while leaping back and forth every now and then to counter the monster's counter-strikes. The Sarmanian blade managed to lacerate the creature's limb, a petty revenge for its recent attack. But the man pressed on. While he was able to dish out some noticeable cuts and slashes, Uri knew he had to formulate a plan. Even with his sheer will, it was not enough to take down a creature of this magnitude. All he could do right now was keeping it occupied - rinse and repeat until everyone else could get in place. What was once a sleepy, inattentive moonshiner was now a full-pledged defender of the Light. It was enough, it has to be enough, if not more and then some, the marine thought to himself. His sweat-filled hair swayed in the wind, as residues of kicked-up soil battered his armor and face. His muscles strained, and his eyes filled with rage, the impetuous spearman continued his deeds. At least for now, the monster's diverted attention would accommodate Pat's recovery, but there was no rest for the small band of Guardians.

"Mage! Devise what you must to disrupt it's vision!" the marine shouted out to Gil.

"Berserker! Up on your feet! We are not done!" Uri called out to Pat. It was his attempt to get a status report from the man. He had hoped that the warrior was capable of retaliating. After all, everyone needed to do their bits.

"C-Cleric! Fashion yourself with something to ward off it's attack! DANGER CLOSE!" Uri exclaimed, as he threw himself forward, barely blocking the beast's sharp claws from reaching Vera and Lazlo. Uri's dark red eyes widened, as his blades brandished the monster's claws, striking a few sparks of amber glints.


*Translation Notes:
N/A

 

[ShadeAlucard]

Alex

Alex, upon seeing he was too late to deal with the cerebrate seeing it was dead, suddenly go the urge to go back to the pillar of light. Without questioning his sudden urge, he ran back as fast as he could and reached the pillar, suddenly losing his breath and falling to his knees as black started to coat his gauntlets. 'no...no like this' Alex said to himself as he then passes out at the base of the pillar, the black retreating away with the white, light based ink of his power back into his body.

Jazmin/Eve

Jazmin/Eve was laughing hysterically as she ran into battle, swinging her scythe violently and smoothly through each darkborne menace that came running at her. One pounced at her from the shadows and she heaved the the scythe in a very brutal upward motion, cutting the beast in half before it hit the ground, getting her covered in its guts and blood. She smiled sickeningly as the fire in her eyes grew brighter. She then saw that a huge monster of a darkborne rise out of the ground and she laughed. "Finally!!!!! a brilliant challenge than these pesky runners! LETS GO YOU MONSTROSITY!!!" She shouted as she charged head on towards the giant, ready to find any weaknesses in its legs and take its mobility completely out of the picture. as she started running, a spark of fire burst out from the scythe, as if it was trying to ignite itself.

 

[Trappy]

Maria and Buras
Out of the cover of night, a serpentine figure lashed out at Buras, with fangs and blades poised to strike. Gleaming under moonlight, the sharp claws struck like a coiled viper, sending sparks flying, accompanied by the ear-drilling clash between metal and metal. The Inuin was no stranger to being jumped on suddenly in the night, however.

So intent was he on reaching his impromptu partner that he nearly missed the soft gleam of the moon off of metal blades. Had he been slower in his reaction, that blade would have found its mark. But he deflected it with the flat side of an axe before following with a punch. The creature, it’s shape still shrouded by the dark, had been sent back, but he did not give it time to fully recover. And so he rushed it, cocking an arm to send an axe through the night air, Lytle Systra already beginning to grow and expand for the two handed, over headed swing that would follow.

The Smothered One wasted no time returning the favor. The Darkmage’s figure coiled down into a petite white singularity, before springing to the side, narrowly dodging Lytle Systra’s business end. With a thump, the axe blade brutally murders the dirt as it lodges itself firmly within the ground, with the creature slithering off to the right of Buras. Entering a clearing in the leaves, where the moonlight could fully illuminate the horrid creature.

The commotion from the rear did not go unnoticed by the Guardian mere yards ahead of the Inuin, who quickly made her way to the fight and offered her assistance. Traversing the thick foliage was made easy with creative use of her shortsword, and she broke through, making contact with the slithering serpent beast. The Guardian stood directly in front of the Darkmage, while the Inuin stood to its left.

The Smothered One stood in the moonlight. Baring the fangs from its hyena-like jaw, the being stood, or rather, coiled itself. Resembling a white snake, The Smothered One did not resemble a human from the chest down, covered with a smooth skin, swirling like a liquid yet staying solid, leaving a print on the grassy ground. Its two arms stuck out like weapons, with its frail fingers making way for a chitinous blade sprouting from the forearm out. A pulsating blue crest stood above its head, a replacement for the eyes it lacked.

“Oh you’re just a nasty-looking one, aren’t you?” Maria sneered, pointing the pole-arm at the creature while pondering her options and watching the Inuin in the corner of her eye, all the while poised to strike should the snake-like humanoid before her made any quick movements.

He had missed with both the thrown axe and Lytle Systra. He had not expected the thrown axe to hit, but he did not expect how the thing dodged both. It had shrunk impossibly small before darting to the side, leaving Lytle Systra to bury itself into the dirt. He did not hesitate in his actions, hesitation lead to death, and grabbed the thrown axe and wrenched it from the dirt, Lytle Systra following after, having shrunk down and loosened the dirt’s grasp. He turned to once more chase after this slippery prey, getting his first good look at the creature.

The battle was on from here.


A spiky arm rose to meet the shoulder-splitting axe swing bearing down onto The Smothered One. Chitin clashed against steel, scraping against the metal blade of Lytle Systra, as the Darkmage quite sensibly defended itself. The other arm jabbed sideways, poised to puncture the Inuin’s stomach, but was equally foiled by the throwing axe in Buras’ arm deflecting it to the side. Hissing, The Smothered One opened its maw and attempted to rip the Inuin’s face off, forcing Buras to yank his entire head backwards, moving away only for a bit to recompose his fighting stance. Seizing the opportunity, the Darkmage advanced. Its blades gleamed in the moonlight like they were the sun themselves, thrusting and slashing like a whirlwind. Buras couldn’t find an opening. The thing was too masterful, too multi-pronged. Every swing of Lytle Systra was intercepted and answered with more angry attacks. Moving backwards and backwards, the Inuin could feel himself losing ground. Focusing his fullest on deflecting the strikes, he barely noticed Maria when she made her presence known to the two.

Maria, who was keeping her eyes on the Darkmage, did not allow the creature to overwhelm her ally unchallenged. Raising her polearm and prepared to strike, the Guardian got low, stretching one leg behind the other one before channeling her innate powers, feeling the powerful forces coursing through her muscles, and pushed. Maria flew across the opening, intercepting the Darkmage in its advance at immense speed, swinging her polearm in a diagonal slashing strike once she was in range. The bardiche cleft its way into the Smothered One. Or so it seemed, as the Darkmage spotted the attack at the last second, sacrificing its right armblade to take the hit. The chitinous sword had shattered to bits from the strength of the strike, but the momentum had been cancelled out. At the stump, however, a new blade immediately begun reforming, shimmering beneath the nightly sun. Maria found herself stuck in the same predicament Buras had found himself in, as the snakebeast bit down on her bardiche’s blade, refusing to let it go.

It was all Buras could do to keep the chitinous blades from reaching him. But even that failed to protect him entirely. A small gash here, another there, the two blade storms clashing again and again, and it was Buras that was losing. He surely would have died soon, had Maria not launched herself into action, shattering one of the creature’s arms. He was dismayed to see something instantly beginning to grow back, but he also saw an opening. While it was latched onto the bardiche, Buras closed in on the other side, preparing a shattering blow of his own. And should that miss, he could show the creature how sharp his own fangs were.

The axes barely made any progress, as the creature’s own tail sacrificed itself for the blows. Layering itself, the limb of the Smothered One bled, or rather, cried tears of pain from the wound. It was unsettling how little ‘blood’ it had. Retaliating, the Smothered One spun around, with the bardiche still locked in its jaw. The intact left armblade flew directly at Maria, while its tail formed a thick whip, slamming into Buras’ stomach like a tree.

His mouth was open wide as he looked for a spot to latch onto, giving the air in his lungs plenty of room to leave as the newly formed tail slammed into his stomach. Not only that, but the sheer force of the strike sent the large Inuin stumbling backwards. He stumbled further back of his own will as he gulped air back into his lungs and steadying himself back into a fighting stance. They needed a better plan than to just run at it. But they couldn’t simply shout at it either, the creature was one of those smart ones, like that darkmage in the ruined settlement. But then how were they supposed to figure out a way to beat it? They would have to come up with something in the moment. “Crush it!” he roared as he once more rushed the creature, hoping she would understand. Praying she would understand. He wasn’t sure how her power worked, but hopefully she didn’t have to be to close.

Seeing the imminent attack, Maria pushed with her bardiche in an attempt to cut deeper into the creature’s maw, before letting it go and pulled herself to the side to dodge the armblade. In a swift, decision action, the Guardian retrieved her shortsword and swung it at the armblade itself. Steel connecting with putrid white flesh, the attack cut the limb at the very core of the blade, leaving it dangling like a broken arm. The holler from Buras got things going, however. He must’ve figured it out as well, that this was no ordinary Dark beast. If this thing was gonna go down, they’d have to do something else. Something more bold. More daring. Something…

Grabbing the dangling arm with her free arm, she reeled herself in and let her shortsword do some damage. Stabs followed by stabs into the creature’s abdomen section, Maria eventually left the shortsword impaling the fiend’s midsection, and went for its neck, letting pure battle fury guiding her hands which soon wrapped themselves around the creature’s neck. The Guardian squished and pressed with all her might, choking the living out of the beast beneath her while simultaneously screaming into its face.

The Smothered One howled in pain. This was apparently not going according to its plan. Between the burly Inuin being able to tank through all of its attacks so far, and the super aggressive princess making a mess of its internal organs, the Darkmage was in a tight spot. But it had a few tricks up its sleeve for tight spots.

Coiling its tail up to twice its original size, the shiny skin glistened beneath the moonlight, as it punched Buras right in his stride. This time, it hit a lot harder, sending the Inuin off his feet and a fair few feet back, landing on the ground. Its arms wrapped around Maria, as it spit out her bardiche and opened its maw, poised to decapitate her with one fell bite. Only with her immense gravity power, did Maria avoid such a fate. With its jaws held mere inches from her head, Maria held firmly onto its neck, though this time attempting to push herself free. “Get it!” She yelled out in desperation.

Buras scrambled once more to his feet, this time more prepared for the strike of the tail. He could feel the bruise forming already, but it alone would not be enough to stop him. Reaching the creature as Maria pushed herself free, he swung Lytle Systra wide, it’s haft quickly lengthening, and wrapped it around the creature’s throat. He grabbed the other end with his other hand, the second axe being thrown aside so he could do so, and pulled it tight. He put his whole weight into making the haft of the axe reach the back of the thing’s neck. The things struggles, and more strikes from it’s tail, did not make that easy, however. So he got close, opened his maw wide, and latched onto the creature’s neck. It tasted foul, but he would not let go. Not until one of them died, and even then it might have to pry his jaws apart to get him off.

As she reeled back to give the Inuin some space to exact his fury on the beast, the Guardian couldn’t help but notice some sort of magic taking effects on the creature’s form, particularly the wounds it had received in the fight. To put it simply, and without a better explanation, they seemed to be mending themselves. As a test, while the beast was still restrained with the Inuin’s jaw locked in its neck, Maria received her shortsword from the beast’s torso, stabbed again in its upper torso and pulled the blade down, cutting against its fiendish ribs and muscles in the process. The wound - as gnarly and fatal as it seemed, indeed appeared to be healing somewhat, but why? The Guardian’s eyes dashed about. Nothing seemed too out of place to her from inspecting the serpent thing, and nothing was in direct contact with its wounds. Aside from the moonlight.

Perhaps that was it. She pulled herself away from the beast with a kick, rolling backwards and grabbing her bardiche as the thing flailed about beneath the Inuin’s grasp.

“Buras, let’s try dragging this thing into cover! I have a feeling its magics have something to do with the moon.” Maria begun ordering. A plan was coming into shape.

Obliging, Buras Ur’ull heaved with his combined might. The Smothered One was clawing at his calloused hands now, but minor wounds were nothing to him. The more he pulled the Smothered One into the cover of the canopy above, the more desperate it tried to break free from his grasp. Guess that confirms it. Heaving further, Buras grit his teeth as his feet dug painfully into the dirt, contending with the snakebeast’s raw strength. Its blue crest was glowing.

Shit, its blue crest was glowing. According to the boundless sum of battlefield knowledge that the two warriors had, when something glows, bad shit happens. Thinking fast, the Inuin released his fangs from the dripping neck, and bit down hard on the glowing crest, earning himself a great deal of splinters within his mouth. Utilizing her power, Maria concentrated herself into lifting the Smothered One, and swiftly hurling it into the shadows.


The moment that they’d gotten it into the shadows was the moment that they had won. They just didn’t know it yet.

Its glowing halo snuffed out abruptly, like a candlelight smothered by damp fingers. Its dangling arm remained dangling, its intestines ceased healing, and for the first time in the short-but-long battle so far, it screamed out in agony. Music to the ears.

A cornered rat. Using its unfractured arm to facilitate escape, the thing stabbed directly into Buras’ right hand, chitinous blade sinking into flesh as it skewers his knuckles. Letting go from the loss of muscle control, Buras lost his grip, and was given a bad kick to the gut with the tail, as the thing darted out to the moonlight. To salvation. A salvation that was denied, by a worn out Maria.

With a sideways-on horizontal strike directly into its belly, the snakebeast was sent back in the shadows by a sting of pain, though perhaps nowhere near the one wracking Maria’s mind right now. Assuming a well-practiced stance with her left leg back and her arms kept low, the princess was now an impenetrable bastion. Deflecting strike after strike, she stood her ground enough for Buras to approach from behind.

Wrapping both arms around the foul beast’s waist, slick with its own blood, the Inuin put his back into it, and suplexed the beast. Its gnashing bones contacting the ground was a good sign. It wasn’t healing anymore. Rolling out of the way, Buras left space for Maria, as she charged forth and struck the thing right on the head as it recovered.

Standing up, Buras recovered Lytle Systra with his left arm. Ambidexterity paid off, as he swung from left to right, digging into the Darkmage’s ribs, holding it partly in place as Maria withdrew her bardiche and spun it, maneuvering it quickly into the thing’s neck with a devastating right slash. The Smothered One was in too much pain to even scream. With one final effort, its tail coiled and sprung forward, to the light that stood mere inches before it.


But alas, it did not budge.

And soon, it started moving backwards.

Maria was concentrating the last of her reserves on preventing the thing from reaching the moonlight. Pulling it back into the shadow via gravity, the thing was left immobile and screeching, as Buras simply yanked Lytle Systra from the ribs, and went for a final slash, aimed at The Smothered One’s fragile, seeping neck.

The sound of the snakebeast’s severed head hitting the dirt was good.

 

[hostage]

Teoippe
Keeping still was not an option, not when the last resort in battle was to die. A nimble bounce kept her out of the reach of the last Cerebrate, which was soon felled by a rather strange looking paladin. Her companion, Vik, was metres back, getting aid from another man, so she decided to move to another spot. A small path was cleared by her sword, like foliage cut by knives. Darkbeasts fell to her sword by the twos, and she glided through the tangle of bodies as if she was an intangible wraith.

She had noticed that the first clash between armies was inconclusive. Both Dark and Light suffered losses, whilst pushing against each other with no restrictions. The lightly armed skirmishers in the form of Runners had fallen to the steel, iron, and fire of the Guardians, but then came the larger, more hefty forces. These, she noticed, wreaked havoc against the less trained warriors. So Teo skipped from group to group, providing aid where necessary but also giving the clutches of guards directions. She noticed a slight shift in the battle as the guards beneath her assumed command felled more and more, allowing her to put her talents elsewhere.

At one point she had mounted a steel clad horse, gaining small burns on the iron buckles of the saddle but maintaining her fierce determination in the fight. Darkbeasts were felled left and right, until the horse was taken out from under her, a spear glancing its side. Teo was forced to dismount and continue on foot. She ruefully regretted the loss of height advantage. Now many of the evil creatures stood even two heads taller than her. With those, she elected to hamstring them. Her sword sliced through dark muscle like butter, and those she did not rid of lay howling in the dirt.

It was like a dream. Dead and dying surrounded her, their wails of pain outnumbered by the din of iron and roars of Dark. Teo had fended off three or four Runners when a couple of massive Burrowers came to their aid. She lost ground, being pushed back, back, back. Eventually, the lady’s back was to a massive beast. She caught the name, Heidelisk. A deep set terror clenched her heart. It was either face the burrowers and ranks of Dark surrounding her or run straight for the beast. A half-assed plan came to mind, and Teo lunged for the centre beast.

Strangled screams escaped her throat as she slashed it down, and the Darkborne roared in return, infuriated over the loss of their brother. Teo stabbed another beast, but it in turn landed a glancing blow against her head. A lurch in her gut, and the Darkborne towered above her. Another twinge in her abdomen and the world seemed to freeze.

No, not freeze. The creature froze.

She could see its muscles twitch, eyes roll, and mouth snap shut, but it could not move. She glanced at the sword hilt in her hand, and ripped it out. The monster howled, long and deep and pained, but did not move. In wonder, Teoippe lopped its head off. Then the world moved again. Beast after beast attacked, each stopped by that sickening feeling in her gut. Every beast froze, only to be released when it was dead. Soon, she was surrounded in a bare patch of ground, her enemies disintegrated. She keeled over, hand over her mouth as the earth lurched beneath her feet. Her head spun and pounded and groaned and... she passed out. ​