Fantasy Natural Selection

[AnimusLight]

Crumbli

Jezebel Ada Batal​

The young monk could feel the magical energy radiating off Leon. A string of blue and gold spreads through the forest ground, reaching her first since she's closest to Leon. The justicar surprises Jezebel for a moment; with how soft spoken the two chatted, she wasn't expecting such a loud battle cry from the swordsman. She stands still, not budging an inch when Leon confronts the orc. A clash of metal on metal, a test of strength that Jezebel would loose if tested for more than a brief second. The ground beneath Leon is disturbed by the immense power.

Leon tells the monk to stand back, maybe believing she's to fragile to fight such an opponent. He's half right; she would be smashed under brutal strength but that doesn't mean she has to confront the orc one on one.

"I want to help!" answers Jezebel. All she has to do is find a way for the orc to release the ax, right? The monk sprints in, allowing her body to get lighter if the orc decides to swing at the incoming enemy. The orc looks entirely impenetrable, wearing all that thick armor. The more she's closer, the more the enemy is towering over her but the intimidating stature won't waver her.

The forearms of the orc are less heavily clad than the rest of the body. His wielding arm is the only side with a gauntlet but what matters is the little gaps. Jezebel passes by Leon to catch the orcs attention. Like some animal, she latches herself onto the enemy's wielding arm. The sound of air hitting something emits from the arm. It doesn't faze the orc, only proving to confuse him when he looks over to Jezebel. The gauntlet she's latched on gets a bit loose.

She'll have to do this two more times to make the gauntlet loose enough to break off. It would leave the orc's wielding arm more defenseless and with a time strike, could force the enemy to let go of his ax.

The orc reaches for Jezebel only for her to doge the grab by moving herself on the arm. The monk's still gripping on tightly and the second burst of air goes through the orc's gauntlet. The gauntlet is more loosen now; just one more burst. The orc swings his wielding arm up high to shake Jezebel off. Her legs wrap around the orc's upper arm.

And the last burst!

The gauntlet pops off with Jezebel as well. "Whoa-!" She's sent flying backwards towards the group.

 

[JokerValentine]

Mentions: Morgrim Luckz Alstromeria Anaxileah Compass shadowz1995 @animuslight

This was happening too frequently. Now a Great Wall appeared out of nowhere, dividing the father from some of his fellow comrades. Before him stood a strong orc warrior, one that definitely had a lack of solace in his heart. He knew this, as it seemed the only thing he had on his mind was to smite his friends in a bloodbath. Maybe the orc would listen to reason. Maybe it would like to talk about its anger, maybe read a nice verse not the Divine. There was this one passage that Thomas loved, one about a talking sparrow sitting in a pear tree. There was a cat that made its approach-

"COME ON DON'T JUST STAND THERE!"

That snapped him back into the moment. Marie Silverton, the vampiress queen, she had spoken for him to get his head from underneath his robes. Or even it wasn't directed to him at all, maybe she was talking to someone else. But surely it was one of those moments where the words applied to himself as well. It could be a sign of his age, his frailty, that his mind was on a rather generous leash, a cow in a large brown pasture, the sun on its flank as it picked at the grass.. No snap out of it! You have some noncombatant duty to attend to. Now was the time of action. Thomas decided to utilize an incantation, seeing as the battle was already under way.

He thought of a good one to use, one that would be prolific. With a collection of scales at the ready, the male decided to read one for a defense buffer, so that they may all have some sort of aid in preventing injury. The priest cleared his throat, and at a sizable distance, uttered sacred words in a language sacred to the priesthood. It was an ecclesiastical dialect not typically spoken for any other purpose but for incantations. Such words are not meant for any non-priest reader, so a translation is provided below:

Oh most cherished mother of the sky, look down upon the warriors in our name with kindness, bless them with the sacred feathers of the dove as they fly to victory. Annoint them in the khamil as to protect them under your merciful shade. Bless them, o bless them, and may we give the lives of cattle at the altar in your name.

Khamil, as was references, is a sacred oil derived from a plant of the same name. There is a complex story behind its significance, but a long story made short is that most priests do agree it to be derived from Godly tears. It serves as a physical barrier between the spiritual and physical assailants.

And it was seemingly not working at all. Had they heard him? Perhaps not, after all, he was quite far. So the priest walked closer, and closer, so not he could see their faces. And again, he spoke the sacred tongue onto his friends, almost in the midst of the fight by certain accords.

 

[Morgrim]

Morgrim Hemwick
Ex-guides Shifter and Brutus
[Thinning the Herd]
Mentions: Anaxileah Alstromeria shadowz1995 Luckz Javax Federoff Crumbli JokerValentine AnimusLight CarpeNoctem1213 (Hope I didn't miss anyone.)

Shifter
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The bone user acts first as he is the fastest of all of them. His combatants land a few good blows on him, fresh new cuts line his body, not to mention the toxic blood that was spit in his eyes, and is flowing into his bloodstream. The toxic blood is still new though so its affects are minimal, and the guide takes his turn to attack. He quickly scans over the group, and sees that the bunny beastkin is by far the most terrified. A wicked smile spreads across his visage that none can see. He protrudes a solid bone from the base of his right foot that was sure to hurt, but in junction with his dash and the propelling force he was able to close the twenty feet in virtually the blink of an eye, and before the lagomorph can even respond he shoots his hand under her jaw in an upwards motion, effectively impaling her head on his bone protrusion. Her eyes roll back into her head and quickly go dark as blood pours down from the fatal injury, and bone chunks spit out from the opposite side of her head. As soon as he impaled her he removes his hand and laughs. Mid laugh he coughs blood, and the realization dawns on him, the vampires blood was poison. How sad for him, he will have to remember not to eat her if he makes it out of this alive.

His next target was by far the biggest eye sore for him, the light elf. He had heard of their species, nearly extinct, in fact Elleniel may be the last one, but not for long. The poison in his blood still isn't affecting him too heavily, so he can dash at full speed towards her. He was surprised by her pacifism to the situation, it's almost like she wasn't even home, shame for her though. The bone in his hand goes from less spear like, and more like a viciously sharp dagger. With a quick slash he opens her neck up fully. Blood pouring out by the quart. The already pale elf turns violent shades more pale, and red from the neck below, as he stabs her several times more in the chest twisting the knife each time. In the span of those two kills only about 15 seconds had pass, not exactly a large amount of time, but with how accelerated his movements have been the blood had been flowing from both his enemies and him. Now the poison had reached his heart, and he let out another cough of blood, this one more violent.

Now he was slower, but still in the fight. Crow and Roxii looked like they were ready to re-engage. They were surely skilled with blades, and light on their feet. Shining examples of assassins for sure, but Shifter was legendary in his own right. He dashes towards them, but sacrifices the advantage since he is being flanked by them. Something they could realize though is that the wounds they had inflicted upon him had been covered in bone, however it was a thin layer. As they circle him and go for an attack he juts out a small spray of bone bullets on either side of him, effectively landing a few weak hits if they can't block it, there is a tell to his attacks though, every time he used an ability they had become smaller and smaller in scale, surely the smarter members can tell that he has a finite amount of bone he can dispose for his attacks, and from sealing his wounds to using so many projectiles he is running low. He takes a blade in either hand, and attempts to fight them both. He was still quick, but he was reaching his limit.

After a few more minutes of close combat he is starting to see things as hopeless He was still up against about five people Crow, Roxii, Alaria, Soma, and the Vampire Marie who poisoned him. He'd have to use all he had left in one final attack. He bolts back until all are in front of him to some extend. His chest splits upon as bone opens it violently. Excess bone is pointed forward like teeth by the hundred. With blood running down his mouth he shouts "Die!" and the bones all shoot forward like a claymore mine sending hundreds of shards shooting at them. He uses everything in that attack though, and sacrifices his ability to use bones for the rest of the fight, and sacrifices a decent amount of his life force with the attack too. After a few more hits he would be dead.

Brutus
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The Orc was impressed by the abilities of the Inquisitor, and annoyed at the attempts of the monk. They had succeeded in repelling an attack, and remove the gauntlet from his right arm, not that he cared though. He was a warrior through and through, he didn't care if he lost protection. Those two had proven to annoy him, and by damn he would exact his revenge. He slams his ax into the ground once more, only this time it was not for a wall, it was to summon a giant sphere of earth. A huge chunk of stone jumps up into the air, and as it reaches it's apex he kicks it with his armored foot. The boulder shoots into a shower of debris and shrapnel aimed at the Inquisitor and Monk, surely dealing enough damage to stagger them.

Next in his sights was Riktos, and Dakul since Morgrim already looked near dead so he wasn't even in the equation. Calling upon the power of his axe once more he creates a small quake in the ground that was strong enough to break the balance of any who happened to be standing in it, which meant Riktos and Dakul. Taking advantage of their staggered state, he whales on them with his left arm, the armored unequipped hand. He liked to play with his food, if they ever actually proved to be a real threat he would be sure to start using his axe as an actual weapon instead of a conduit of magic. Despite his big size though he was pretty swift when it came to letting out attacks, and was able to beat them pretty harshly, maybe enough to break a couple bones if they weren't tough enough.

It was then the Orc say the feathered Beastkin, the owl morph Beelze. The poor bird man got caught out in the fight, and was in a bad position as the orc charged him. He grabbed the Beastkin by the throat with his left arm, and removed his helmet. Needless to say the orc was a sick fuck when it came to beastkin, and saw them as being especially tasty, definitely the more poultry looking ones at least. With jutting teeth he bit into the neck of Beelze and tore out a chunk of jugular that he swallowed whole before dumping his body on the ground and wiping the blood off his mouth.

The Orc went after Kade next. The girl looked surprisingly human all things considered, but she was made of magical earthly material. If she went up against the bone user she would have been lucky, but she was not, she was fighting the orc, someone with an artifact that could disrupt and manipulate the very earth. When he took a swing at her the axe bounced of the first time, but he quickly came to the conclusion that she was some weird golem creature, and using the power of his weapon he struck again, and it broke her. Kade crumbling away into hundreds of pieces.

It was then that the priest was getting closer, and closer. Walking into the fight like a lost little lamb to the slaughter, and that's exactly what it would be. As the orc liked to play with his food, he saw no entertainment he could extract from the priest, someone who couldn't put up even the slightest hint of a fight. That insulted the orc that he would even step up to the plate, so he spat on the ground that Thomas tread, and unleashed his axe. With a beaten on Riktos, Dakul, Jez and Leon there was no one to stop him since Morgrim was still to far away to help, not that he could solo the brute. The Orc positions the axe behind his back, and then in one downwards swoop sends the blade splitting through Thomas's head down to his base, crudely tearing him in half, killing him instantly. "Prey for that pathetic creature."

Morgrim
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This was not going well for Morgrim. People from his crew were dying left and right. In the current case all he could do was use his own bone powers, but he had to do something he wish he hadn't, he had to use the corpses of his fallen allies. Father Thomas and Beelze were still relatively close to the orc, so when he detonated their dead bodies that acted like powerful anti-personnel mines that send spikes shooting through his right arm, and a few into his lower jaw making him scream in pain. He dropped his axe and wildly swung both his arms in any direction as if it would get rid of the pain. They were winning the fight, but Morgrim felt like they were losing since five people had already died. Leaving the group significantly smaller and their chances overall weaker. This just proved though they were not ready for the journey, and they should have realized his letter was not an obligation, it was an opportunity, one that could prove fatal though.

(THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN PEOPLE DON'T REPLY!!!)
So please keep up you lovely losers
​

 

[Alstromeria]

When Riktos woke up the next morning, he was no longer a bear. However, he was still holding Alaria. He stood up quickly, embarrased. "I'm sorry," he muttered, voice still scratchy from just waking up, "the bear does things alot. Sometimes I wake up in even stranger places." Riktos packed the rest of his things in silence, hoping that Alaria didn't think less of him for the breach of her personal space.

Riktos followed the group, afterall, he didn't listen too much to where they were going to. Of course he knew the final destination, but as to how the group would get there, or when they got there, he cared not. What he did care about was those berries on the side of the path. They looked good, elderberries usually were. Riktos ignored the party as he went to get them. He plucked a few, sticking a few in his mouth, and then-

The ground opened up beneath him. He fell, and if it werent for his hold on the elderberry plant, it would likely have been to his death. It took him a bit to figure out what was going on, as he could not see over the ridge that he had fallen into, but by the shouts of the others it was clear there was some sort of fight going on. Apoligizing gently to the elderberry plant, and shedding a single tear as some of its fruit fell into the cracked ground under him, Riktos pulled out his axe to join the *BAMF*. To join the *BAMPH*

Riktos just couldn't get a break today. As soon as he had climbed up from uncertain death, he was hit in the gut, and in the nose by a rather large fist. His nose was certainly broken, as he staggered back, windmilling his arms as to not fall into the crevice he'd just climbed out of. When his vision stopped swimming and he regained his breath, there were some bodies on the ground, and they were not enemies. With a semi thoughtful frown, Riktos determined the cause of the problem, and his lost snack. A rather large orc. The orc had killed a few of the party, but was being distracted by Jezebel. It had also just thrown his weapon. Seeing his chance, Riktos rushed forwards

He struck first at the back of the knee with the hilt of his axe, effectively knocking him to said knee. In a fluid, barbaric motion he'd practiced before, Riktos turned on his heel, spinning for a decapitation. The orc grabbed his arm however, twisting it, and putting Riktos on the ground. He rolled away and they both scrambled to their feet, Riktos next to Jezebel, and Brutus on his own.

Pointing his axe at Brutus, Riktos bellowed: "You have interrupted my snacking, WASTED the elderberries that I had found, and have been tossing around my small human like a rag doll! Prepare to be..." He paused. Prepare to be what? Frowning, Riktos realized he didn't have a good word to use at the moment. He dropped his axe slightly and glanced at Jezebel. "You finish my sentance. I never really did threats well."

 

[Anaxileah]

​

Falling asleep with a large, fluffy bear was exactly what anyone would predict - full of fuzzy warmth and occasional bear snuffs in the middle of the night. Alaria slept quite peacefully thanks to Riktos' warmth, but was appalled at just how indecent they were when she awoke. She had fluttered her eyes open only a few moments prior to the stirring of her ally, her face meeting the armored chest of Riktos. She glanced up at his face, her face gradually flushing at an alarming rate as she realized that his arms were wrapped around her and he, too, had been sleeping peacefully. He woke up not a few seconds later, moving away from her with an apologetic look in his eye. His immediate withdrawal made her feel a little hurt by his behavior, but she brushed that feeling away, shaking her head at him as she sat up. "No need to apologize, I understand." She spoke softly, her bright green eyes avoiding his by instead gazing at the ground, her cheeks remaining the lively green color.

The two didn't speak much as they continued walking, and Alaria occasionally glanced over at Riktos, chewing her lower lip as she thought more about the morning. She honestly didn't mind being that close to him, which would probably be disturbing to him, so the elf-reptile shook her head and continued forward, walking ahead of Jezebel and Leon as they spoke of her. When the two newest enemies appeared and the group was separated, Alaria's immediate response was checking everyone's vitals. Was anyone visibly injured, would they be alright, etc. The ghost-like male fought first, not appearing to suffer injury or need aid, while the wolf-elf charged after the bone-covered mage male next. The terrifying rate at which he was killing their allies almost froze Alaria with fear, but she needed to tend to the wounds she knew were already present in the few people who were fighting. Alaria moved quickly over to Roxii, gently placing a hand on the Lythari's shoulder.

"A healing touch should have you feeling better and improve your agility. It only takes a moment." Alaria's voice was quiet beside the wolf hybrid, making sure her voice was low and that she wouldn't be heard by their enemy. She closed her eyes briefly and channeled some of her regenerative power to Roxii, mending her wounds almost immediately on the outside, preventing any severe blood loss. Next she aimed to heal the vampire, regardless of how their anatomy worked. Using her enhanced speed and agility, Alaria darted around the bone mage to where he held Marie, using the force of her body to shove Marie out of the bone mage's grasp, all the while transferring more of her regenerative powers to the willowy female's body. At that point Alaria had gained the attention of the bone mage, hopefully rolling out of his path after pushing Marie out of harm's way. Soma had yet to act, which was something Alaria was betting on, hoping he would cover her if she headed in his direction. However, it was not to be, what with the bone mage's horrible osteomanipulation process - he grabbed hold of her before she could dodge any attack directed towards her and impaled her thigh with his multiple protrusions before swinging her towards a nearby tree, making sure that her back and/or head would hit it to cause some permanent damage. While it did not cause anything that would harm her permanently, the force of the throw knocked the breath from her lungs and resulted in unconsciousness, accompanied by a large gash-like head wound.​

Addressed: Alstromeria Javax Crumbli | Mentioned: Alstromeria @shadowz1995| Status: Wakin' Up -> Worryin' -> Healing Roxii & Marie -> Getting Knocked Unconscious | Mood: Embarrased/Worried -> Ridiculous -> Concerned -> Unconscious -w- | Location: In Da WOODS | Inventory: Satchel, bow, armor, arrows x23 (she can easily make more), hunting knife, cloak | Notes: Moo ​

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano Direct: AnimusLight Alstromeria | Mentions: Everyone else in the party

Leon watches the monk struggle for to strip him of his gauntlet. He was annoyed that she'd risk her life like this but impressed by her willingness to assist him. He takes a step back to watch her work and, once raised into the air, he comes in close again to prevent the free arm from prying her off. The orc raises a clawed hand for a swing but is graced with cold steel instead, cutting into his palm.

The orc lost his patience with the duo and, as Jezebel is thrown off his wrist with the gauntlet, the orc raises that mystical axe of his into the air. Leon was ready for this. His defensive aura was cast and the worms of magic energy covered their armour. Whatever attack the orc could throw he would survive it.
He slams the axe into the earth and summons forth a jagged shard of stone. It raises into the air at great speeds and Leon turns his back to it, positioning himself partially between Jezebel and the orc. He sees it being used as a large single projectile much like a catapult but instead is surprised to see shards of stone surround him. One shard presses against his back, piercing his armour. The weaves of divine regalia consume the stone and return the armour to its former glory before fading.

The pressure of the attack forces him to his knees and leaves him out of breath. He pauses to catch his breath. The sounds of battle fade into silence and the only thing he hears is the sound of his breath being caught by his helmet and slipping out of the visor and neck gaps. He looks to the dirt in front of him, trying to gather himself.
He must have slept funny, or perhaps the hike was too soon, but his calves were killing him. His left shoulder wasn't feel too smooth either. With a soft sigh he looks to his sword. He plants it in the ground and begins a soft prayer. The world around him faded in and out of reality. Veritas didn't answer him in this moment. Instead he heard another voice, in a tongue much like his own but slightly different, reciting a warriors hymn. He stops and turns to look over his shoulder.
He didn't know how long had passed, but it must have been a while. A woman shattered before the orc and fell to the ground. Blood covered his jaws and indecently positioned on the ground was an owl spluttering from his gaping throat wound, clawing in the direction of the party. The priest was moving closer. He smiles. The priest was a pure man. Nothing in this world or the next could ha-

He paused. The world came crashing back down into reality. The priest was cleaved in two and the orc murmured insults of this holy man. Was there no honour here? Did he provide this green beast with the respect he thought the champion deserved alone? He had misjudged his foes and his allies.
He looks to his armoured hands, hearing nothing but his own heavy breathing ringing through the helmet into his ears. His blood begins to boil in his veins, the burning sensation crawling into his neck and behind his eyes. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and his hands begin to tremble, looking over his shoulder again. The corpses exploded. The owl wasn't even fully dead yet and his body was used as an explosive the likes of a dishonourable siege might use.
Shards of bone, chunks of flesh, and ribbons of organ and muscle litter the field. His boiling blood sees no end to this. The orc flails around like a fool but still chews through his allies. This was appalling. Even the bear, who seemed a beast at first meeting, was being pushed around. He can't look. He pulls himself up on his sword and once up growls to himself. This would be the end of the orc without honour.

He turns around and sees the two wrestling on the ground, scrambling to their feet. He was almost insulted at how playful the battle seemed to them. Their allies were dead and this meant nothing to them. His vision grows blurry. He sheathes his blade onto his belt and begins to approach. He hears something about a snack and snaps at the bear man. "Fuck your snacks! Next you eat, if the gods are kind, you'll choke on it!"
The orc is wounded and Leon pushes the advantage. Charging at the orc with all of his might he collides his fist into the side of its helmet, knocking him back down to the ground from his own knee injuries. He follows it up by grabbing the horns of the helmet and using them to guide his knee into the helmet. The orc is anger and pulls him down on top of him, trying to pin him in the dirt.
Leon wasn't having it today. He sends a fist to the centre of the helmet, dazing the orcish champion. He quickly wedges his left hand beneath the helm and begins to pry it off, following up with a strike to the temple of the or with his right. The helmet comes off and rolls within arm's reach of the duo. His strikes increase in speed, striking the orc over and over again. One, two, three, four, all the way to seventeen the orc takes these blows trying to restrain Leon. He manages to stop his right arm causing the left to be used. One, two, three, four all the way to twelve before the orc restrained that arm also.
He struggles for a second before using his head. One, two, three strikes to the orc before being let go from its now dazed grasp. He leans over to grab the helmet and feels claws prying into his plates, being tangled up by the chainmail and leather. He presses down on its face rubbing it into the dirt as he finally gets a proper hold of the helmet. Now it could end. He raises his shoving hand and punches once more. Yet again the injured orc is dazed. It weakens in its struggle for dominance and looks him in the eye.
Leon feels no remorse, no pity, nothing but hatred. He places both hands on the helmet's underside and guides it towards the orc's face. The orc rolls slightly to the right but fails to escape the fate. As the horns of the helmet pierce its beady eyes he finds himself screaming in a fit of rage. "There is no honour here!" The orc lets out a howl of pain for a few short seconds before the horns pierce his eyes and enter his skull. Blood sprays from the eye punctures like a geyser and seep inside of his visor, mixing with the intoxicating stench of sweat and rotting vegetation.

He wasn't wrong. There was no honour in this battle. It was a slaughter and he expected there to be some level of justice. As he slowly regains control over his emotions he realises what he'd done. He pulls the helmet out from the orc's now empty eye sockets and begins to repeatedly bury the horns into its skull and facial tissue. He was working out his anger while waiting for the others to go and stop the bone mage.
The skin around the puncture marks purse and spill with blood. The green skin becomes almost unrecognisable as its drenched in the blood it worked so tirelessly to contain. What little parts were left of the orc's face that didn't become painted red, were torn or covering a thick bone skull. Leon only needed two minutes with the body to clear his frustration and once done, he turned his attention towards the rest of the group opposite of the wall.

 

[Morgrim]

Collab with Shadowz & Morgrim​

It wasn't ever necessary for Soma to sleep but that doesn't mean it didn't feel pleasant to just turn off now and then. They were surrounded by some halfway decent looking warriors and rogues. What could be the harm in actually sleeping for a change? Ryan trusted them and it had been weeks since the thief turned for awhile.

Ironically, the sandman was a heavy sleeper and only awoke when the bones from the shifter impacted against the bark of the tree, shaking the limb he was resting on. Tanned eyelids fluttered open, revealing the otherworldly blue hues of the dream eater and.... the bloody scene that had unfolded during his unconsciousness. People in their group had died and Soma quickly became panicked as he searched for Ryan.
He eventually found her....

It was very rare when Soma wasn't the happy, easy-going thief he always was. Even rarer still to see him enraged. This was one those times. The master thief locked on to the shifter that caused the death of his companion and his entire body shifted into sand and flew to the monster's location. Soma's form erupted from the sand the moment he was before it and there was absolute murder reflected in those eyes.

Before the thief moved just enough to barely dodge the attacks. This time he was a literal blur of flesh. Movement so fast, blinking would cause him to disappear.

Shifter may have been on his last legs so to speak, but he wasn't out of the fight yet. He still had the speed to keep up with even the fastest members of the group. Seeing the bloody murder in the eyes of Soma he couldn't help but laugh once more, spitting more blood out from his mask. He already knew he was dead, but he was going to have fun in these last few moments. He had to rely on an actual weapon this time, a dagger that was attached to the backside of his waist.

He engaged in combat with Soma, dagger poised and ready. With his enchanted boots he could still keep up with the speedster, and dashed forward. He extended his arm forward with the blade poised at his throat, he made a jabbing motion that had surprising range, because Shifter was the lankier of the two of them.

"I guess you were the master. Heh heh, how does it feel to lose your student, see her dead while you were stuck in your daze, I bet it makes your blood boil. Too lazy to even protect her." He laughs again as he makes lightning quick swipes with his blade. He didn't like to rely on using his dagger, but he had no choice in this circumstance. He was at the end of his rope, and if all he could do was make one more person miserable he would still die with a blood ridden smile on his face.

While the two were embroiled in combat at blinding speeds, Soma was the one falling for obvious taunts. He ground his teeth in anger, parrying the stabs and slashes with his gauntlet and retaliating using guided fury in every strike with his own enchanted dagger. The duelists could only be seen as blurs and only the sound of metal meeting metal were clearly discernible in that fight.

As the high speed, high octane battle pushed on, it was clear Ryan's killer was faltering. Despite his taunting, he was getting slower. Soma's strikes were starting to rend skin and flesh alike. At first it was small cuts, but the daggers enchantments wore down the already dying monster even further, turning those cuts into deep gashes.

Shifter couldn't keep up anymore. With the poison, and now constant cuts turning into deeper and deeper wounds. With a sick grin hiding behind his mask it said a short sentence. "It was worth it..." Those were the last words he said before he hacked up blood, and finally gave up. He fell over to the ground, head hitting the ground and blood pouring from his mouth and all over his body. It was then that the group finally won the fight, but it didn't look like it was worth it with five of the members lying dead. It was over.

"Worth it?" The dream walker bit out as their duel came to a close. Soma sent a swift kick to the monster's shoulder to turn him over on his back. He mounted the dying, bleeding Shifter and plunged the dagger into his chest, ending his miserable existence. The thief pulled the dagger free after a pause and brought it back down on the thing. Then he did again, and again, and again..... again....

Soma kept stabbing the corpse over and over, eventually ripping the blade downwards and cutting the shifter's torso completely open like a hot knife through butter. The thief then brought gauntlet and fist down in a flurry of punches, letting out an enraged scream that was a testament of his pain. To losing the only friend he had here.....

....

It came to the point that Soma didn't even know what he was staring at anymore. It wasn't a body anymore....just....red and bits of gore and bone. Soma was covered in it but he didn't notice. There was a reason he never slept.... there was a reason and he damn well knew. Sandmen don't really sleep... they enter a trance where outside stimuli hardly moves them. Soma got comfortable with these strangers and it cost him his gorgeous disciple.

Stupid, shy Ryan....

Soma's breaths came very slow now, even. He had unleashed such a torrent of blows that he couldn't even lift his arms anymore. The only thing on his mind was why they had even come here. It was because Ryan tried to do something she shouldn't have.

Morgrim approached Soma, a man that had been utterly beaten and broken. Brought down by the pain of losing a loved one. It was a pain he was familiar with. He was wounded and he could see that both physically and mentally. Morgrim approached the dream eater, and could only say. "I'm sorry." He knew he probably didn't want to hear anything from Morgrim, but he had to say it. Then he left him to his own devices. Soma would undoubtedly need some time alone.

They should have just stuck to what they were good at.... but this was what she believed. Soma had to finish this for her. Not only as her master but as a man. As much as he disliked most of the people here.

"She... believed in you and your cause. I don't.... but for her sake, I'll finish what she started... if you fail... I'll make sure you get put down permanently this time. Is that understood corpse?" It was barely above a whisper but the malice behind the statement was on par with the bloodlust of the mess that lay in between Soma's legs.

Morgrim turned to look at him, and nodded his head slowly. "I understand, and believe me, we will not fail. For all that we have lost today, and for all that I have sworn to protect I will make sure we succeed."

 

[AnimusLight]

Crumbli Alstromeria Anaxileah

Jezebel Ada Batal​

Jezebel lands roughly on her butt, skidding to a stop next to Leon. She lets out a pained groan, unable to get on her feet quickly enough to discover what the orc is about to do. The forest ground beneath her begins to rumble once more; the orc is using that troublesome ax of his again.

Some of the sunlight is blocked out by the justicar's figure, who's put himself between the enemy and her with his back facing the enemy. She glances up at him, wondering what's going on- The monk springs to her feet, finally noticing what Brutus is about to do. Leon's only stands his ground as the projectiles hit him. Jezebel though the man was alright until he falls to his knees.

"L-leon!" she scrambles closer to him, giving him enough room if he were to jump back into action again. The monk only hears panting as the justicar catches his breath. "You shouldn't... that was reckless..." A hypocritical statement to say.

Her attention is caught elsewhere when she hears the sounds of her comrades falling one by one. The sight makes her stomach drop; to have only known some of these people for a than a day and watch them die... it leaves a sour taste in one's mouth. All she could do is watch in fear as the ground is further soaked in their blood. When she thought it couldn't get any worse, the corpses explode, injuring the orc.

Jezebel casts her gaze away from the chunks of flesh that once were people. She can't falter now! She joined this journey on her own free will; she wants to change for the better if she wishes to change her family's future.

Even though she is unable to prevent the shaking, Jezebel faces the orc. There isn't much left of the group so she has to do something. The monk isn't one to kill others, but she now understands the feeling. Jezebel rushes towards Brutus; since the orc is used to her being in the air a lot, she will have to go low.

Jezebel dashes then slides underneath a swipe. Now that both his hands are free, he thinks he's able to grab her? Before she can do anything else, the orc falls to one knee. Riktos.

The monk backs away to give the two towering fighters some space. She isn't sure what to make of Riktos's fighting; are they wrestling? Why won't he turn into a bear now? Riktos scrambles to feet, standing next to her. He points the ax at Brutus like some declaration- well he is declaring something...

Then he turns to her asking to finish his sentence.

Jezebel only looks up at the man with her mouth open. Wha? She's come to a conclusion since the tavern that Riktos is pretty over-the-top with his actions. She stares at him with a scrunched up face for a second, thinking of the first word that came to mind.

"To be snacked?" Riktos was going on about his snacks. Jezebel gives him a shrug. She jumps in surprise when Leon shouts at Riktos while approaching. And like that- the justicar has the orc on the ground. Both are unarmed and Leon's fists are going at it (Me: Leon's doing a jojo- ORAORAORAORAORA).

Jezebel watches in awe as the orc is thrashed only to jump in once Leon's stabbing a dead corpse. She doesn't dare get any closer, not that she feared Leon but the mess that's below him.

"Leon, enough!"

She's exhausted, both mentally and physically, even though the day isn't over yet. She just wants to leave the area now that it's dyed in red from both sides. The justicar's attention is to the other portion of the group. Jezebel gives Riktos a worried glance, wishing that the other side is not as worse. Alaria is with them and she knows how the two have gotten closer.

 

[Federoff]

Inventory:
Twin Daggers, Leather Armor, Hat

Locations:
Forest

Tags:
Directly: Roxii Javax , Alaria Anaxileah , Morgrim Morgrim , Soma shadowz1995
Mentions: Everyone dead lul, Marie Luckz , Riktos Alstromeria

Guide:
Bold = Emphasis on Word
"Quotes" = Speaking
Italicized = Thoughts
Colored Italicized = Thoughts of others
"Italicized Quotes" = Speaking Thoughts connected to emotions
​

Why did they have to fight?

Zinging and zooming, swooshing, swashing, swinging, singing. Wisps flying through the air they're all singing. Coffers, coffins, colliding, clashing, contending, cursing. As quickly as the men attacked them they retaliated with full force. After Crow had been thrown off and away, like a bull rider off a bucking bull, the rest of his side of the wall began to take action. He had bought them time to respond. It took him a moment to stand back up after being thrown to the ground. The boy who wasn't watched as the vampire lady locked their enemy into a grapple, spitting blood in its face. Crow didn't like the woman, she was a noble, but it did lock the man in place while Roxii unleashed a well placed strike into his, already, weakened back before being kicked away. Blooded and bleeding and beaten.


With great haste the young boy would make his way over to his impaled comrade, who was already being healed by the other half-elf who was acting as their healers. While Crow was cloaking Alaria and Roxii in a cloak of shadows, which he hopped would once again buy them a few precious seconds, the bone warrior began his counter-attack. "The bone is getting smaller, almost but nearly. Be careful" Crow advised the two in his normal, cryptic, way before the three went in their separate directions, as the man killed multiple members of their team with pin point accuracy and deadliness. It was a slaughter house for them with worst part was that the group members that were attacked never did anything in response, as if their creators had abandoned them for dead. Crow and Roxii began to circle the bone man. Like winds in a roaring storm the three would trade blows, them with their daggers and him with his bullets of bone. With each attack he was getting weaker and weaker and weaker still, it would not be long before he was dead.


Something didn't feel right though, something was off. Wrong and wrought, the man felt his thoughts touch his. His face turned pale with a realization for what was about to happen. He abruptly stopped his circling and grabbed the arm of Roxii, forcefully stopping her circling. "FIND COVER!" Crow yelled loudly, for the first time, to his allies, before running towards the dead bodies of their former allies while the bone man launched himself back and prepared his final attack. Using all of his strength, Crow would nearly drag the blind elf behind him while the bone mage prepared to unleash a powerful explosion of bone at the group from the cavity in his chest. After a few moments the man would send hundreds upon hundreds of bone spikes at them. Just in the nick of time Crow would manage to slid and reach the dead bodies, giving one to the blind elf before propping the other one up as a shield while laying flat on the ground parallel to it. Although a few would manage to prick their bodies from behind the wall of meat they had set up, the two would remain, relatively, intact.


After waiting out the storm of bones and spikes Crow would move the dead body aside and stand up into a fighting stance, ready to finish off the bone mage. However before the boy could do anything Soma, the last remaining thief of the duo, was dueling the, now taunting, bone mage. Due to the previous expended energy, and sustained wounds from their attacks, he quickly faltered and was overruled in a angry barrage of blows from the enraged thief; a complete 180 of how he had acted before. Which was understandable, he had lost a deer companion. The boy felt sorry for him. It was rare when he felt it but the man was wracked with it all. Anger, pain, guilt, and sorrow all in one.


A second ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. "Mockingbird, mockingbird, quiet and still, what do you see from the top of that hill? Can you see up? Can you see down? Can you see the dead things all about town?" Quietly he mummered to himself, putting his daggers away before offering a hand to the blind Roxii in case she needed after what they had just endured. "Are you okay? That was not very good" He knew the girl was distant and full of pride, but on the off chance she did need help, the young boy would be there. His eyes scanned the field for the others, it was a sadden sight to behold however. Bodies littered the field, each one of them in worse condition then the last. Crow sighed. They had not even achieved their first goal as a group and now so many were dead. Hopefully this would not be an omen for what was to come. "Your people bury or burn your dead. The spirits would appreciate it if we did to"

He spoke once again, his voice was back to the normal soft and gentle nature that he was known for. Soon his teal eyes would stop upon another one of their allies, the reptile elf Alaria. From this distance he could still see her breathing and could still feel her presence here, she was only unconscious. The young boy shifted his gaze from her to the tree. His guess was that she was knocked back and hit her head, explaining the bloody gash. He pointed to her with his freed, gloved, hand. "She is unconscious, but wounded. We should treat her quickly" He did not wait for a response and instead took it upon himself. Crow slowly drifted over to the unconscious girl before picking her up and laying her against the tree without much of a hassle. He would then rummage through her satchel, finding the bandaging he was looking for. Using one of his daggers the boy would cut a piece of the fabric off to use as a sponge for the blood.

After cleaning out the wound, to the best of his ability, the boy would then precede to wrap Alaria's wounded head three times. After a few minutes he would finish by bringing the two ends to the center of the her forehead and tying the two ends together, tucking the hem under the bandage to ensure it would not come undone. He may of been a spirit but he did a decent job at taking care of the living.

Crow would keep a close eye on the girl until she returned to consciousness, or until someone like Riktos came along, and allowed the others to recuperate and take in what had happened with each others company. He quietly watched as the others came around from behind the wall. Fewer then they started with as well, it was a shame really. They would need to be more careful from here on out, less another storm happens. Silently he whistled to the tune of the poem he sung earlier, going back and forth between whistling and softly speaking the words. "Welcome back" Crow greeted Alaria once she opened her eyes. Crow offered the girl water from the canteen he carried with him, a sort of emergency supply he kept on himself for the others. Spirits did not need it but the living did.

After making sure Alaria was tended to, Crow would wind up drifting over to Morgrim and Soma, who had just finished trying to console the angered dream man. Using a thumb, the young boy wiped away the blood from his previous cut located on his cheek. It would heal and cause no scar, but it did bleed nonetheless. "The spirits have fled. Flying. Fluttering. Fast to the farthest Fade. They have gone home" With his head skyward, the boy would confirm that those who had died had passed on to the spiritual plane, where they went from there was up to them. Shortly after the boy would bring his hatted head from skyward to face Soma. With a sorrowful tone he would relay something he thought would be of some condolences. "Your hand hurts. A heartbeat. Not yours. Hammering the beat of a song in its final verse. I'm sorry." He paused for a moment before continuing on. "The song is different, but the pieces fit together. She has passed through. Waiting and wondering, she now watches and waiting. Thank you for every thing."

His voice, soft and soothing, slowly disappeared like an echo in a canyon. Crow's attention returned to Morgrim after taking another look around the battlefield. Looking him in the eyes, he would continue to speak for the spirits once again. "The spirits would like you to bury or burn the bodies, they don't think they belong" Crow never did understand why this concept was important to the living but he always knew it was important to them. And so it was important to him as well.
​

Actions

Fighting -> Helping others -> Running away -> Helping others again -> Speaking to people

 

[Luckz]

Marie Silverton
Marie cursed out as he yanked away, and Alaria pushed her, causing her to roll on the ground like a log. Her hands would heal given time and that magic no doubt but not straight away. Her body ached and the massive amount of blood that was loss made her head pound and her stomach cry out for a good hearty meal. Then she watched Alaria literally fly behind her and Soma finish the job. "Damn, my dress! This was the most expensive material YOUR dirty hands had ever touched, now look at it, rips up the side, there's a whole in the back, there's blood everywhere!" She moaned as Marie sat up, she eyed her black cloak, which was actually next to her along with her bag and sighed as she re dressed herself.

She looked dirty yet she was still so pretty, witchcraft I must say. Marie then turned to her group, many dead and even the one who had been so close to Sandman. Cracking her neck, she stood up slowly and made sure to regroup quickly with everyone else. She settled her body down upon the ground and smiled a sincere smile at Soma. "I hope your Goddess can help you now," the vampire then turned her attention to Crow who gathered up the colourful red of Alaria and watched as he attended to others before looking at herself.

Miss Silverton whined at the blood in her hair and well everywhere as she looked down at her hands, well the hole in them so technically the ground and turned to the group. "Anyone adept at healing holes in hands, I'd hate to lose these and daddy wouldn't be very happy, besides Alaria is out cold and well...nevermind" she moaned, the pain kicking in properly as she came down from her adrenaline high. Marie was a vampire yes but that was the first time she had ever tanked and put herself as a shield for her group, what a ghastly thing to do for other's no wonder why she had guards. Flipped her hair out of her face she rose and looked at Morgrim.

"Where to next? Or are we going to bury these..." Marie thought of the right words to say. "Losses," the vampire turned her nose up slightly, wanting nothing more than to feast and leave.

Anyone in the area.

 

[Alstromeria]

Riktos was indifferent to the savagery to which both the assailants had been dispatched, however, he did not like what he saw as the party regrouped. Ryan, was dead. The beastkin healer was dead. The priest was dead. The light elf was dead. Even the lady, Kade, who was able to make fruit out of thin air, was dead. He set his axe back in its respective loop at his belt, spat a bit of blood on the ground, then wrenched his nose back into place with a canned-ham of a hand he posessed.

To him, the justicar's actions were understandable. Riktos empathised with his moral code, but he also understood the orc's savage bloodlust. It was different than his, he killed to eat, and his marks were the scum of man. Bandits, woodland theives, and the like. Not te casual passerby's the group was. The healer and the priest had no business with the group, however, and Riktos believed they got what they deserved. He was however, sympathetic towards soma. He'd lost someone he loved. Riktos had reacted the same way when his father and mother had died. He'd gotten even too. He refrained from making any remarks or gestures towards Soma, figuring this was something he would get over soon enough.

"Besides, Alaria is out cold and well... Nevermind." Marie silverton tittered, just finishing whining about something or other. Riktos shook his head, his voice rumbling gravely over the group, "This was a fight like any other. If you wished to remain unharmed, you should have stayed at home where you belonged." The rugged man had been through worse, and his body language showed it. He still stood tall, and aside from his broken nose, he was relatively unbloodied, aside from a cheek that was now turning purple and some visibly displaced armor he had to readjust.
Luckz

"Are we going to bury these... Losses?" Wanting nothing to do with the argumet that was sure to follow, about how to bury the dead, where to bury the dead, maybe to burn them instead, or even to bury them at all, Riktos stood next to Morgrim. He was not sure wether or not their guide would be disheartened at the casualties, especially since he was the one who had splattered them like unsavory jelly all over the place to begin with. Placing a hand on the guides shoulder, he spoke again: "A creature that stays in its den is safe. But this is not what the animal is meant to do."
Morgrim

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano Collaboration: shadowz1995 | Direct: Federoff Luckz @All the dead bodies. | Mentions: AnimusLight @All party members paying respects.

Leon hears the calling of the monk and wedges the horns deep inside the orc's mangled face. His breathing was heavy and the overflow of red wasn't something that appeased him all that much either. He knew he was overdoing it, over reacting. He didn't care much though. He goes to pick himself up but strains his knees halfway, dropping back down ontop of the orc's chest. He lets loose a soft growl and picks himself back up again with an exhausted laugh. "Have we seen the others?"
He receives no reply from the group. He figures his heavy breathing and weary head might play tricks on him. It's just as easy that he'd thought the words and failed to put them into the air. His feet drag along the ground as he backs away from the corpse. Surveying the area he recognises specific shards and chunks of bone and flesh. Some were from the priest, peace be with his sacred heart, and others from the owl. It wasn't right to leave their fractured lives among this forsaken field. He leans over picking up a few shards and pieces them together. They seemed to belong to a rib cage. The structure was thin and reminded him of a human's.
He didn't have all day to go around and piece all the pieces together but he wouldn't leave them be. The largest parts were collected and piled beside the corpses. It took him a few minutes and he heard communing over the wall as he did so. They sounded no louder than a whisper and seemed to be full of heart ache. It's clear that the deaths weren't one sided in this fight. The others had lost their fair share too.

He removes his helmet and places it against the ground over the smaller rocks from the fallen golem. He hadn't even noticed her the night before but such was the way of landfall. He walks past the dead orc to go around the wall and makes sure to give the defiled body a love tap. He places his boot on the edge of the helmet's lip and presses down, twisting the orc's head to the side. "Good riddance." His fingers trace the stone wall through their armour and as he rounds the corner he notices the carnage. A man was clearly grieving atop the remains of the bone mage and among the dead was the rabbit.
Gears turn in his head and he puts the roguish type and grieving man together. That must have been Soma. It was a pity that they'd have to make greetings under such circumstances. He walks over to him with a frown. The linen cloth around his head stained with some of the orc's blood from the spray as well as his nose and mouth painted with their fair share. Before he has the chance to speak he hears the vampire ask about the losses of the battle and whether they should be buried. He wasn't amused by the idea of leaving them out in the open air, speaking in an obviously irritated tone, "We'll bury every one of them. My only regret is you aren't among them, fanged thing." He then proceeds to place a hand on Soma's shoulder with a concerned look about him.
"Would you like to carry her or shall I?"

Multiple hands had touched the thief and gone. The spirit-like boy with the hat, the corpse, possibly more.... Soma only felt one last one, much heavier then the others and that was the one that shook him out of his completely numb state. It was as if Soma was a corpse himself. The thief looked up at the large paladin through tortured blue eyes. "The vampire... she asked to bury the dead. I'll help you... but nobody touches Ray. Nobody... I bury her alone." The dream eater spoke just above a whisper but you didn't need enhanced hearing to hear the mixture of emotions in the man's voice. Anger, despair, guilt, regret, and bitter sorrow caused his voice to break a bit at the end. Though whether that be to the anger or the anguish, no man would be able to tell.
The thief stood up incredibly slowly. His legs were shaking and it seemed like he might have fallen over but he managed to steady himself. Icy blue hues returned to the remains of the bone shifter beneath his legs. Soma stared long and hard at the remnants of that bastard that killed his companion before something changed in the man. It was a mixture of hesitation...and pity. Soma bent down and scooped up the remains of the crazed mage, or at least whatever he could manage to gather in his arms that didn't fall through with a disgusting squelch. "Let's just get this over with. Please." He asked quietly.

Leon looks to the boy. He was trembling as he rose. His arms flinch a little at a particular movement, feeling as though he may fall. His lack of empathy had limits and these were pushing it. He could almost feel the boy's pain from a personal level. Almost is the key phrase. He takes a step back to give him space and watches him gather up parts of the bone mage. He nods to the boy, it was possible the bone mage fought with more honour than their orc had. It wasn't hard to be more honourable than a man who cleaves a priest in two. And if he hadn't fought with more honour then perhaps this boy was more honourable than anyone there.
"You may bury her, but we'll need to dig the graves first. Can I count on you to join me in my efforts digging them out for the others as well? O and would you like a service for just her or shall I leave it as a group?"
"Hold a service for the others. I shall do my own as well. The Goddess... she will help them achieve their final peace."
The duo worked together to gather what remained of the bodies of both friend.... and foe. Soma went to the other enemy and gripped the Orc roughly, dragging him to a separate area. The thief may hold certain beliefs but he wasn't about to bury them with the allies of Ryanna. It was then that the paladin grasped him from behind...

He picks up the last of the dead from the ground. She was a light elf with her throat torn open. The skin was smooth and he could respect the efficiency of the mage's hand. His arm goes behind her knees and the other goes behind her back. As he rises he notices Soma dragging the orc away. He carries her like a bride over to the other corpses and lays her down in a line with respect. He slowly pulls her eyelids shut and stands to go find Soma.
Sure enough the boy was holding onto the orc and dragging him away from the group. A thought of unorthodox origin came into his mind about the burial of the orc. Surely Soma wasn't going to do such a thing. He wasn't that kind of unique breed of nontraditional. He moves quickly to place a hand on his bicep and grasps it firmly. It wasn't too tight but it wasn't a grip to be broken free of. "Whatever you intend to do to your foe, I respect that. The orc is mine. Unless you plan to strip its breast plate for shovelling you have no business touching him."
"He is dead paladin... and you brutalised him after his death in a rage... The Goddess deems the disrespect and defilement of corpses with the highest disdain. A crime that I also committed with the shifter. They are dead.... just let them rest. I'll bury them myself if I have to." A clawed gauntlet reached over to the grip on his bicep and Soma ripped the Paladin's vice-like grip off of him.

He listens to Soma as he pulls away from him, but this wasn't something he could discuss out. This was a way of life for the both of them. "I gave you respect and have allowed you the right to bury your fallen partner, and your fallen foe as you please. You may have forgotten but I took his life. We are men of the gods here, the priest and myself, and they don't take kindly to their messengers being torn in two. You may bury the bone mage but that one isn't going to be shown any respect." His hand clenches to a soft fist as he looks Soma up and down. He wasn't going to fight again so soon if he could help it but if the dead were to be unfairly treated, he was going to have his say.
There was a time and place and this moment was neither of them. The thief was already in a dark place and this was just giving him a reason to lash out. The dream eater dropped the limb he was dragging the orc by and was mere inches from the paladin in a literal eye blink. Those blue hues now burning with fresh anger, "Oh, they don't take kindly to their messengers being torn in two do they? I DON'T TAKE KINDLY TO THE ONLY FRIEND I'VE EVER HAD BEING IMPALED LIKE A WILD PIG!! "

The thief was trembling once again but not out of weakness this time. It was rage that wanted out. "I can show respect to the cur that murdered anyone that ever meant anything to me. You can show the same respect. His life is OVER. His corpse is NOT yours to disrespect anymore. You took his life but you will not continue. Not while I'm here knight."
His face remains blank as the boy trembles in rage. He'd known this feeling before. He'd felt it just moments before when his very faith had been assaulted before his eyes. He wasn't scared of the boy nor did he back down. "His life is over but I am a hand of the gods. You will respect my traditions as I respect yours. I get you're hurting and I look to be the easiest way to be rid your hatred and if you need I will take your rage but I won't allow you to go against my faith. Friend or foe, a man with no honour doesn't summon honour in his passing." He did not waver in his words, showed no sign of backing down, only calm and collected reason with the boy.
"Trust me, Soma. You don't want to do this. Neither of us want to do this."

"Your traditions go against mine, Knight. But your right, I don't want to do this. With you or these disgusting monsters." The man turned to look at the fallen orc with seething hatred in his eyes. "Nothing would please me more than to defile their corpses for years to come." Soma breathed a few heavy breaths but it was visible that he was beginning to calm down, "You didn't lose anyone in this fight Paladin. I did. I can find it in my heart to just bury these creatures and leave them alone."
"If you want to fight about this then we get it over with quickly. I'm not going to slow Ray's journey down any further with words. I'm burying these vile monsters because that is what the Goddess dictates I do with all the fallen. If your god dictates otherwise..." The thief took a step away from the large man and met his eyes evenly. Quiet fury boiled within the sandman's visage but it no longer had direction. He just wanted this to be over and whether he won or lost the possible fight, they would get an answer.

Leon sighs, placing his hand upon the hilt of his sword. He hesitates a moment before letting go of the weapon. The potential negatives of this confrontation greatly outweighed the positives. If he lost to the boy he'd either end up dead or dishonoured which wouldn't help his holy mission in purifying all the names from his sacred list. Likewise if he won the group he'd rallied with wouldn't accept him nor would he feel right for harming a member of the innocent. There was no righteous way to fight him and emerge.
"I can't bring you harm. I will make a compromise but I can move no further on this matter while I still draw breath." He rolls his shoulders and his facial expression shifts from relaxed to annoyed. His eyes narrow and his cheeks seem to tighten. "He was a warrior. It is traditional to bury a warrior with his weapon. If we bury his axe, the one that spread our groups apart, then we can rest clean on the matter. That is the furthest I will move."
Soma watched the man carefully, observing every movement the justiciar made. He was fully expecting for this to come to blows but alas, the man of conviction found some kind of reason or mercy. Soma considered the compromise for a time. His eyes cast downwards in thought.
Eventually, they raised back up and one could tell Soma was, in the simplest terms, exhausted. As was everyone surely...
"I didn't know about that tradition. But it sounds fine. A symbolic burial will be enough to appease her I believe. Just...at least don't mess with his body anymore. Just leave it be." He asked. He didn't know if the big man was going to heed his request but it didn't matter in the end. Soma went over to the orc and ripped off the front of his breastplate. The graves weren't going to dig themselves....

"You have my oath." Leon was happy with the outcome. So long as the body of the orc wasn't shown an honourable burial or respect he wouldn't argue the point any further. He watches Soma pry the front of the breast plate off and smiles. It was a good idea. Something he hadn't even thought of doing. He was planning to dig the graves either by hand or with his helmet. He walks over and pushes the orc on its side, pulling the breast plate out.
He watches Soma and waits for him to turn his back so he could take the helmet out of the orc's face. He quickly slips it back on over the orc's head and places his hand over its face. It was secure enough for the time being and that was all he wanted. He hoped that if Soma saw the body he'd prove his traditions were being respected slightly. Even if butchered in the most purest of forms.

He leaves holding onto the breast plate and returns to the laid out bodies, taking rough measurements of their bodies so he could tell how long his graves would need to be. Despite the tragic situation he found himself wearing a half smile like he often did. The battle was over, he had narrowly escaped a fight against the mourning thief, and he wasn't going to have to use his helmet to dig a hole. Life wasn't the best, but it could be a lot worse. For Leon at least. "If you need to rest, let me know. I'll likely need to strip my arms before the holes are through."
"No. There's too many dead and not enough time. No resting..." Immediately after, Soma plunged the breastplate into the earth according to Leon's instructions and the pair immediately got to work.
One couldn't exactly tell how long it took but the thief knew that the monotonous routine of shovelling dirt was numbing and numb was better than pain, anger, or even a fraction of what he was feeling. It also helped a little bit that Soma had to dig two extra graves though they were shallow and the thief didn't recite any rites for them. His goddess dictated burial and respect for even the worst foe... she didn't say they needed ceremony or equal treatment.

Eventually, they were all buried except the rabbit beastkin. Soma spent some time in the hole that was dug for her. The thief had cleaned the blood off of her as best as he could. Even in death she was beautiful... "Ray, you stupid girl.... we never should have come here. We were happy. This wasn't our fight.... but you always had a soft and righteous heart...."
The thief rose from the grave and placed his right hand over his heart, tears flowing freely down his face, clearing away some of the dried blood and dirt. He cried but he did not make a sound... not even a sniffle. "May the Goddess take care of you, Ray. Until the time comes for me to join you in her embrace. I'll finish what you started stupid girl." Still, the tears came down as Soma began filling the grave. Moments later, the dreamweaver finished giving the blessing of the Goddess of the Sands to Ray's fallen comrades and then simply stood beside the large knight for him to say his rites.
He nods to Soma and takes up a holy scripture he'd collected from the priest. His half smile fades and he begins to read from the holy book. They shared the same texts and while he only studied the texts of Veritas, he could read the texts of the other gods in their most basic forms. He stays with Veritas in his last rites and acknowledges the other gods as sharing their visions of the truth. His service wasn't short and lasted nearer to half an hour of constant reading. He held the same service for all of them, giving each grave a six to seven minute burial.

Once done he fills each remaining grave with the help of the thief and places a stone from the fallen golem above the head of each grave. It was something that he felt was needed. He places the holy book down with the priest's remains and shakes his head slowly, making a gesture of twelve different points. It was a strange gesture but represented a point for each of the major domains. "Rest now brothers and sisters. Your banners shall fly no more."
Soma merely nodded after all was said and done. He slowly turned away from the graves and walked back to the group. They needed to keep moving. The thief looked for the vampiress and he did find her, he gestured to her that he was ready whenever she was. The woman of darkness probably needed to eat after that harsh battle, especially since she was already hungry before. No sense in losing anymore people.

 

[Morgrim]

Morgrim Hemwick
@Everybody
Outskirts of Ellanor​

Morgrim watched in silence. He was not sure what to say, and oddly enough for a necromancer sometimes he was bad with death, and these was one of those cases. He didn't know what to say for those that he lost, but he held his head low. It was then that they started to bury the two ex-guides and Morgrim was confused, they were burying the artifacts that they possessed. He was going to say something, but held his tongue. Two objects like that could have helped them all, but he took the high road and remained respective.

The ceremony was over after about and hour, and the others were spending their time saying whatever they wanted to the dead if anything at all. Morgrim just waited for the others to finish. "I know this is rough, but it's time we get going, we have to finish this." Morgrim stated to the group before continuing north. The forest cleared after a brief few moments, and the city could be seen shining in the distance. The white stone buildings seeming to carry an ethereal glow that illuminated it even in the middle of the day. It was even close enough to hear all the hubbub in the city, people cheering and shouting about no doubt fancy goods and how good their lives must be. Well not for long.

To the right a couple hundred yards off from the city was the mine entrance, no doubt where they are keeping the slaves, and working them to death. He stopped the group, and turned to address them. "Okay everyone, we have three things to do, and only so much time, so I think it best we split up and divide and conquer. I'm not going to assign you to any groups, you can pick that for yourselves. But some of you are going to have to take on the guards, and some of you are going to have to free the slaves. I may suggest though that taking out the guards will take a little more stealth and tact though." Morgrim planned to help free the slaves, so he headed towards the mines. No doubt others would follow him.

The mines were heavily fortified, and would prove to be a bit of a challenge, while on the other hand the guards would all be changing shifts in the city right now, so that provides and opportunity of attack. Morgrim turned back to see the others that had decided to follow him, and looked past to see who would be heading into the city. It was time to get this started.

 

[JokerValentine]

Tags: @everyonepls
Interacting with: Morgrim

"But please you must understand, Your Grace, my goats cannot sustain on this crop!" The palace throne room was rather quiet past the hours of sundown and forward. Yet, at midday, the King was supposed to have hearings for his people. Supposed to, but it was rare. Yet, to give the impression that the crown was at least partially aware a populace of some sort existed, there was the rare special hearing. But for King Riglov, nothing would come out of it but an ear sore. His advisors had requested he at least attempt to hear out the populace, and after months of asking he obliged. His plaintiff was a serf by the name of Mikhel, and his plea was for rations to his farm. His harvest had failed, and his goats were starving off of the few weeds that found sustenance in the decayed earth.

But all the while, the Silver Chair sat occupied by the former general, who in front of the shepherd, dined on an immaculate rib of a goat. He cared not for their size, nor for even this serf. The soldiers needed the food supplies, so as they may conserve their strength for the wars to come. Yes, Riglov was no fool. he understood the importance of the farming class, and what they had to give was surely his. But he just found himself disinterested with the shepherd's tears. The bone crunched beneath his teeth, snapping in two loudly in the midst of the serf's plea. Riglov could not give any more of a care to this quivering fool than he could throw the rib into the man's throat. Maybe he ought to redecorate the room in a tint of crimson. It would fit the mood after all.

"Your pleas..." Riglov began, taking time to reflect, "bore me. I care not for your goats, but I admire the strength you have to approach me in my throne room and demand I hand over my own goods to you, to feed your wretched stock."

"Your Grace, I have a family to f-"

"We all have families to feed. Shall I feed yours to my dogs? They seem to be rather hungry, and they are satiated by the tears of the whiny. I will hear no more of this."

After four people, the King demanded an end to the session, tired of the whining. The Silver Legion would make a meal out of this fool, place his head above a pike and march it through the square. But on the subject of fools, where was Riglov's most prized one? Ash, the young servant, such a horrid name to be called. It seemed too... proper. A servant should never have one such as that, as he ought to reminded of the fact that he was indistinguishable from a bowel movement.

"Shitling," Riglov spoke, gazing at the male, "Escort the serf out of my quarters. Give him a copper for his journey, from your pay. Report to me when you have finished and seen to it that you have done something right for the day."

Shitling, he liked it. Though it was a bit repetitive. There were other servants that had met their end. Mostly by faulting the King gravely, or just being chosen to test the newest siege apparatus, weaponry, or just general target practice. There had been a total of three Shitlings, four half-wits, two swinetails, and his personal favorite, seven named Clarissa. Who may Clarissa be? A delightful story. At a young age, a beautiful noblewoman found herself in love with Riglov. Of course, she later discovered that Riglov to not be to her taste. Of course, she did not speak highly of the Legion, nor of him. So he had her father murdered and hung above her canopy. A disgusting sight, surely, the type to render some gagging. Needless to say, Clarissa joined a convent.

But here we were with Shitling IV. Not Ash, not a foul mixture of aviary and human romping, only Shitling IV.

 

[Morgrim]

Ash
Mentions: JokerValentine
Personal Guard/Servant
Ellanor Castle​

Ash had been going through with this for only a few months, but it was a true and utter hell for him. Not that he signed up, as a beastkin he'd normally be put in them mines with the others. However when they first laid eyes on him they thought he was an angel. His complexion is porcelain pale, and he has gleaming white wings stretching out from the slits in his plate armor. Despite not being a noble or royalty he has a deeply regal appearance. Still it is marred by the permanent frown on his face, and the bags under his eyes. King Riglov had been making his life a living hell. When they found out he wasn't actually an angel they beat him for hours, and only didn't kill him because of his skill with a blade.

He had been serving as Riglov's personal assistant and guard for too long now. He had watched the man bully berate and kill all in the name of fun and boredom for as long as he had been a slave, and it only further sapped his willpower. Just like today when a poor farmer came in to request aid from the king, it was foolish of the farmer, but clearly he had no hope and went on to seek help from the man in power. It didn't serve him well as he was threatened and only got a copper out of it. The king made a joke that it would come from Ash's pay.

"Not that I've ever been paid a day in my life." He mumbled under his breath hoping the king did not hear it. He escorted the farmer out. "I'm sorry, but you should never trust our king the man is a fat bloated fool that cares only for himself, you'll have to find some other way to feed your family. Good luck." He said depositing a single copper in the man's hand. Leaving Ash feeling small and hopeless with wings furled up behind his back. He wanted to be able to do more for the people, but he couldn't. He had no choice but to go back to the King's side, and wait for his next command.

 

[Luckz]

Marie Silverton

Marie looked at the bear man with a pouted face and disdain at his words, she expected it of course but no so soon, that was very expensive thread but it serves her well, perhaps she could buy a new set when they entered the kingdom? Daddy packed her plenty enough. "That's my point exactly, but I'm here despite the odds aren't I?" She threw back with contempt before rising and ensuring she was happy, rugged, dirty, ripped but quite happy nonetheless. Until...

"We'll bury every one of them, my only regret is you aren't one of them fanged thing,"

Ohh throwing that card are we? The vampire raised her top lip and shook her head at him as though a child might have done with it's tongue instead. Whay a pathetic man. "You may harbour a hatred for my kind, and let me reiterate that, my kind. Doesn't go to say I hate all humans in the same concept does it?" She shrugged and sarcastically smiled as she lapsed her hands together at her mid, the woman took a step towards the grave of the Priest and leant down. "Father, it is a shame your wisdom and life will not continue with us, my father will hear of how kind you were in nature and in spirit, thank you for not looking down upon me with disdain," unlike some others...she pressed a kiss to her two fingers and placed them upon the dirt before standing and turning to follow the group.

It was silence for Marie, she no longer cared for what Leon had to say about her but when it came down to a battle she wouldn't throw away everything for his life? Maybe anyway, he may be who he was but that didn't mean he couldn't change. Marie was quite a kind soul when not provoked, he was now prodding at the beast. What Morgrim had said now interested her more, not to mention the way he acted around the dead, she found it almost...laughable.

"Soma, I appreciate it greatly but we are moving and there is no time to stop, to feast, I'll make do and besides, Morgrim said some were to handle the guards, I'll find a perfect meal at the Palace," Marie smiled at him sincerely a cold hand on his bicep in recognition of his loss before continuing. She watched Morgrim head the other direction, you wouldn't want a Vampire freeing slaves, tsh how scary, from the mines in the dark to bang a feeder in your face, even if she was drop dead gorgeous.

"Good luck, we'll see you soon Guide,"

Marie then turned to see who would join her with the assault on the guards, she knew how to slit a throat and to stab an unsuspecting guard, not to mention her little friends would easily take out someone of the sort, yes, this was her job for now. Her way to help. Marie silently stepped forth, a gleam of excitement in her eyes as she looked at her fellow assassins.

"Oh how the mightg may fall," she murmured and smiled, the right corner of her mouth rising in anticipation. Oh after this is all done she'd be richer than rich! Suitors for days! Money! Power! And all the blood she'd want, not to mention the many men on her doorstep! If only brother dearest could see me now.

 

[Javax]

Health: 91%

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• Tags: Anaxileah | Federoff | shadowz1995 | Fluffy-Kat | Morgrim
  
  Addressed: Crow | Eleniel
  
  Mentioned: Alaria | Soma | Morgrim
• Status: Wounded ➝ Thigh, Forearm, Abdomen
  
  Location: Forest ➝ Outskirts of Ellanor ➝ Heading Towards the Mines
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ 28 Arrows
  ‣ Shadow Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous: N/A
• Notes:
  ‣ Luin-Edain ➝ Bone-Man
  ‣ Dracsul ➝ Ghost
  ‣ Wassik ➝ Wolf
  ‣ Iome-Kharss ➝ Blood-Lust
  ‣ Velglorn's ➝ Assassin's
  ‣ "Doth nalad suul nossa elendin nisk nonda. Tarii naust. Fi vell elenathar mirigg dos corale sreeur." ➝ “Your watch over us extends beyond death. Rest now. May the stars guide you home safely.”
  
  [Character Sheet]

The wolf-elf watched helplessly as the Luin-Edain mercilessly took the lives of their companions, her shadows reaching out to save her group members but unable to do much in her current state. The reptilian hybrid rushed over to the blind assassin, healing the new wounds the hybrid suffered at an alarming rate. Once her wounds were healed, the other elven hybrid dashed away, aiming to help the vampire. The young boy began attacking the ex-Guide once again, keeping him busy. Roxii pushed herself back up off the ground, subtly enjoying the lack of pain she felt, and began attacking the crazed, sadistic man again.

The dracsul and the wassik circled the bone-man in a flurry of blades. The three exchanged attacks at alarming speeds, keeping each other busy and exchanging wounds for wounds, attacks for attacks, wounds for attacks and vice versa. They were a whirlwind of death and destruction, desperation on one side and iome-kharss on the other. One of them was to fall, and the shadowy rogue was going to make sure that it was not going to be her or her companions—any more of them, at least.

Crow stopped her suddenly, yelling something about finding cover. Her first instinct was to find the nearest obstacle that would provide some sort of cover for the wolf-elf. The boy was already dragging her away, though—much to her displeasure and annoyance—but she let him take her to the bodies of their fallen comrades. She got the hint quickly, taking up one of the bodies as a meat shield and blocking the projectiles that soon exploded from the sadistic ex-Guide. A few of the bone shards went straight through the body she was holding, piercing the velglorn's thigh, forearm, and the left-most side of her abdomen. However, she was overall unharmed. None of the wounds were deadly, but they sure did sting.

Before the wolf hybrid could get back up into a fighting stance, Roxii noticed that the ex-Guide was already busy. The thief, the companion of one of the deceased, was mercilessly and ferociously attacking the bone-man. The ferocity of the thief's attacks were... impressive. Before long, the man of bone had dwindled down to almost nothing before the thief took the life away from the ex-Guide. The thief's dagger came down on the ex-Guide's chest again. And again. And again. And again... Roxii watched as the thief took out all of his anger on the murderer who killed his best friend, his companion.

The rogue felt a slight ache in her chest, one she hadn't felt in a long while. She couldn't remember what the feeling was called, but she remembered what memory it accompanied. The man before her had lost his closest friend, just as she had. She could sympathize with him. The pain he was feeling was one that she had felt long ago, the type of pain that felt as if your entire chest was caving in on itself, piercing your lungs, your heart, your soul. One that tore your humanity from you and led you to become an entirely new person. One that absolutely destroyed you.

Oh, how she missed h–

"Are you okay?" She was ripped out of her thoughts at the boy's voice, his hand held out to her. The beastkin didn't answer, turning her attention to the corpse still in her grasp. It was the light elf. Her shadows grazed over her body, searching for any sort of life. The Eldar elf's soul was as dark as her own, no light piercing through her shadows, not even a flicker. Her eyes were still open in shock and pain, gazing into a never-ending abyss, swallowing her soul whole.

"Doth nalad suul nossa elendin nisk nonda," she spoke softly. The elf hybrid gently closed the Eldar elf's eyes, taking advantage of the lack of stiffness in her body. "Tarii naust. Fi vell elenathar mirigg dos corale sreeur."

Roxii laid her corpse gently on the ground, striding away from the battle scene and standing on the outskirts, near the trees. She leaned against one of the trunks and allowed her mind to wander as the others prepared half-assed burials for their companions. She was close to none of the deceased, not even acquainted with them, so she allowed the ones who were to have the room to put their friends to rest. Instead of paying her respects to today's deaths, the hybrid began remembering those she had lost. The ones who had actually made an impact on her and made her who she was at that very moment. Her mind wandered through the memories for a while, and she let herself get lost in them.

She was once again brought back to reality by a voice, the Guide's this time as he ushered them to get moving in the nicest way he could. The shadow assassin joined the others again and followed silently as the group continued their journey to their original destination: Ellanor.

It didn't take long for the group to be able to see the shining city through the trees. Roxii sent out a few low-energy pulses and felt around for any threats nearby. When no one—or no thing—could be sensed, the rogue reigned in her shadows and retrieved her cane. She would have to keep a tight hold on her magic if they were to be undetected. Anyone sensitive to magic would be able to find the wolf-elf with ease, especially in such a bright city. As long as she keeps her distance from them, she would be fine.

The wolfish beastkin listened to Morgrim's poorly developed plan. Some were to take out the guards and the rest were to free the slaves. Despite the fact that taking out of the guards would require stealth and precision, the wolf-elf longed to free the chained beastkin in the mines nearby. Not only would she be able to sympathize with the slaves, but Roxii would be a valuable asset in knowing the layout of the mines—and that knowledge wouldn't be from her magic. And so, the wolf-elf followed after the foul-smelling Guide.

 

[JokerValentine]

King Riglov
Dealing with: Shitling ( Morgrim )

In a poor excuse of timeliness, the sorrowful beast now returned to the throne room. His pathetic visage was pleasing to Riglov, for the moment at least. Surely soon he could grow quite bored of him. He wondered: could Shitling really fly? And if so, could he do so from a catapult with a crate of bricks tied around him? That surely was one to test. After all, these animal hybrids had a way of breeding out of control. There were so many lonely humans these days, and for them to become enamored with an animal? Pah, disgusting to the extreme.

But there were, to no surprise, more pressing matters to attend to. The former guides which he had sent out earlier, they had not returned yet. Their insistences and promises that they would make swift business of this so-called band of misfits led RIglov to approach of their mission. They promised to be back by midday, but that had surely passed. Had anyone any competency in this realm? Such poor execution made Shitling IV look anything more than just a bird-brained beggar boy. "Shiting IV," Riglov demanded as soon as the half-breed entered, "Send for Legionnaire Fultz. Surely you may be able to be competent in the slightest and find his quarters. Tell him his King wishes to converse with him on certain matter-"

"I am right here, Your Grace," Fultz suddenly replied.

"I know that, Fultz. I was simply testing the awareness of this half-wit at my disposal. It seems to me he failed."

"Indeed he did, Your Grace," Fultz replied.

There was a moment of silence in the room, as the King reflected on what the Legionnaire's presence meant. And suddenly RIglov was no longer pleasant. "Will you tell me why as to you have no sense of where your guides have gone? You sit here in this room the entire time, yet say nothing? You surely must have learned your captaincy and swordsmanship from your promiscuous mother," the king spat out.

"Your Grace, they have not reported anything to me, which assumes me to say that the course of action recommended now would be to assume that this party is headed for the mines. Those activists, they look to gut our infrastructure. What we need is to-"

"Fultz," the King interrupted, "I am afraid to say that some of the other Legionnaires have spoken to me on a similar course of action. And frankly, you are not entertaining to me in the slightest. You shall do so now, or your skin will fashion a bed for my hounds. Give it to him."

A blade clattered towards the half-ling. Though he was kept far from the King he served by the armed guards, the message was now much clearer. "Fight until first blood. The half-wit here has been rumored to play with a sword. Now, if your leadership is to survive, surely you must be able to defeat my Shitling servant. The winner shall perhaps receive a reward."

"But Your Grace I-"

"Fight, Fultz. I am in the mood for a good murder."

 

[Morgrim]

Ash
Mentions: JokerValentine
Ellanor Castle​

Ash was still not amused by the King. He thought the man an idiot as he couldn't even recognize the legionnaire he was looking for when the man was standing no more then fifteen feet away from him. Yet he was the one that ended up being called an idiot. He swore one day he would run a blade through Riglov's back and watch him bleed, but that seemed only a hopeful dream to the beastkin Ash. When he saw the legionnaire being insulted as he was seconds ago it at least filled him with a sense that he was not the only one, not that it made any amount of a difference.

Then a sword was flung his way, and he was ordered to fight with the legionnaire, he was amused for once in a long time. He had no qualms about killing the other man, he was Silver Legion, and that meant he was scum working for even bigger scum. That meant this man was nothing to him, nothing but overdo practice. He gripped the sword in both his hands, adopting a warriors stance. Ash had a special type of magic known as enchanting, meaning he could apply and change the properties of things he is holding or even a a part of himself. That became quite clear when his sword was engulfed in magical fire, and his wings turned to metal. He may not be able to fly like that, but they could be used as another weapon.

The legionnaire looked small to him like a mouse, while he was the hungry eagle. The pathetic man could barely grip his sword when he looked at the iron winged angel carrying his sword of fire. He would make very short work of him. With angelic grace he jumped forward, seeming to glide just over the surface of the floor like a ghostly specter. With incredible speed he slashed sideways, and the man only just barely blocked the blow, seeming more on raw instinct that actual thought. As the blades clashed he turned up the heat, and the flames engulfing his sword doubled in size and raw intensity, causing the man to back off. Sweat could be seen trickling down his brow, but Ash was unfazed.

The faintest grins could be seen spreading across his lips, he had missed this, the feeling of battle. It had been months since he was allowed to hold a blade, and even longer since he was able to properly stretch his wings, but no part of him forgot this, this motions or the adrenaline of battle. He hadn't lost his edge unlike the legionnaire who had clearly gotten lazy in the city and lack of experience. Ash threw his blade directly at his combatant, and the flames left the sword, but a smoke screen was created from the intense fires being extinguished. He couldn't seen the winged man, until he came bursting through the smoke with his wings of iron slashing in both directions cutting the legionnaire across his chest and both his arms forcing him to drop the weapon in his hand. Ash picked them both up, flames engulfing them both once more, and he placed each sword on either side of his neck.

The King did ask to see a good old murder, and that he would. Ash swiftly crossed the blades, decapitating the man within the blink of an eye. It was clearly a one sided fight, but it felt good for Ash, especially since every second of the fight he imagined it was king Riglov he was fighting, and that it was his head he was separating from his shoulders. The flames disappeared, and he looked to the king, giving a bow because he knew if he didn't he would be beaten within an inch of his life again. He also slowly dropped the blades to the floor, having no intent to take on the entire castle. "As you ordered my King."

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano & Jezebel Ada Batal Collaboration: AnimusLight | Direct: Alstromeria Anaxileah | Mentions: @Just about everyone

The aftermath of the battle couldn't be compared to the group's previous- and first- fight with those werewolves. Jezebel thought the group to be strong, not invincible, but strong enough to withstand any attack. To witness such a loss is disheartening for the young monk. She's more used to disarming opponents and knocking them out. Her previous lifestyle, a more sheltered and pampered life, was more peaceful before her path to becoming a monk. Blood. She can handle blood. Death. She can handle death after being a student of her teacher. But the death of many comrades she knows? As much as she doesn't want it to bother her, her discomfort is noticeable.

Jezebel stands silently as the others discuss about what to do with the bodies. The sullen faces of her comrades is enough to know the current moral of the diminishing group. As they begin to bury them, she takes a seat- legs crossed- and closes her eyes. It's a moment of silence, an action common when thinking about the dead. She sits up straight, not allowing herself to slunch for that is disrespectful. Her teacher says that the more still, silent, and focused one is, allows spirits to peacefully traverse to their desired afterlife.

Minutes pass by unnoticed while she's in her state of respecting the dead. She opens her eyes to see the service done. May your spirits be guided away from your last bond to this world, she says in silence, a fitting prayer for comrades of many origins. Morgrim is already telling the group to move out. Even after her acceptance of the dead, Jezebel can't help but want to wait a bit longer before heading out. Despite her dislike for the blood-stained ground, she wants to take her time. Is it because she's exhausted after the battle?

Leon begins to follow the group in its departure from the battlegrounds. The sooner they could leave the area, the better. He wasn't in a bad condition, in fact he was one of the better off from the slaughter, but he knew the scent of the dead would bring about the wild animals of the area. Any low level predator would be interested in the smells and in their wounded state he doubted they'd be able to fully fend for themselves.
As they move he turns around to make sure everyone was with them. Mostly searching for the grieving thief. He didn't see Soma lingering behind but did spot the monk he'd spoken to only moments before the battle began. He remembers her actions in the heat of the battle despite his command to remain behind and decides it'd be best to check on her condition.

"Jezebel wasn't it?" He calls, moving towards her at a lethargic pace, "I told you to remain behind."
Jezebel snaps out of her daze, turning her attention to the justicar. She understands that the man did ask for her to not get involved with the fight but she couldn't allow herself to be a burden to the group. She did join this journey knowing the risks and didn't worry about having to handle anything too life risky on her own... well, that thought is becoming a tad doubtful.
The monk frowns, "I can't allow myself to do nothing. I would only become another problem for the group if people had to look out for me in every battle." She crosses her arms, "But... thank you for your concern. I best catch up to the group."
Leon extands a hand to her and despite the helmet atop his head, he appears displeased with the monk. "If you'd followed my instructions we could have saved the priest."
"I-"
Leon cuts her off before she can explain herself, "You failed your duty today. You disregarded the safety of others to ensure you were valued." He still keeps his hand out to her offering her a lift from the ground. "You were reckless."
She was and she couldn't deny that. With what Leon said spreads doubts in her mind. Was her teacher's training all for naught if she couldn't save one person? Jezebel glances at the hand. Her mind is now a stormy mess of "what if"s and "I should have"s.
"But without your presence I would have submitted myself to a dishonourable man. So in a sense, you saved my life. I give you my thanks."

The monk couldn't tell if she deserved such thanks from someone who has a string sense of duty. She takes it either way, feeling a bit better but the self doubts wouldn't disappear that easily. Jezebel takes the offered hand, getting up to her feet. Her gaze trails to the group who are at some distance away. She tugs Leon's hand in the direction before letting go, giving him a faint sad smile.
Leon nods, his face covered in dry blood and his helmet much the same. His expression remains stoic at this point while he tries to think of ways to turn the conversation options away from performance and back to personal experiences. Nothing really comes to mind so he walks along behind her remaining fairly silent. By the time he'd thought of a way to engage in proper discussion, the group had already made it to a clearing. His conversation stater is lost to the aether and instead replaced by a feeling of satisfaction upon looking at the city. Ellanor, the city under the lying king Riglov. Bringing him to justice became the number one priority on Leon's list.

He listens in on the plan established by Morgrim but finds it to be lacking one vital component. A plan. "Charging across the open field under cover of broad day light. I see no flaws to this method of attack." A smile grows on his face and his usual expression is restored. He was already formulating his own enterance stratergy and it was very simple. He'd take the humans of the group with him to the front door, claim he just met them, and then demand entry as there may be others in the woods that would seek to harm those inside.
Flicking his gaze over the group he notices only one of them is a human. The other human had fallen in battle. "Jezebel, come with me to the city."

Morgrim's sudden decision to split the group without discussion had left Jezebel at a standstill. She hadn't decided which group she wants to join and watching Morgrim's form leaving presses for her to decide quickly. But Leon's statement catches her attention once again.
"But that's neither of the groups?" she tilts her head slightly in confusion. "You have something in mind?"

Leon watches the others begin to choose their groups and shakes his head in disapproval. "If we can go inside the city, openning the gates come night, it'll make this a not-quite-as-suicidal mission. The others should really camp inside the forests just insight of the city. Once night falls they mobilise. We'll have the gates open, I'll have the trial, it'll be fluid if we're lucky." He rolls his shoulders with a soft groan. "Besides, attacking them with the Alaria out cold won't do us any favours. Someone needs to tend to her until she stirs."
He looks to the others as he speaks, subtly hinting that the bear of the group take this role since he was the one carrying her. "Do as you please though. I'm going inside to have a nap and a drink." He says as he turns around to make his way towards the city's front gates. He was a human and if his past experiences with the silver legion were anything to go by, he'd be treated as a first class citizen.

Jezebel glances at the remaining members who haven't picked yet before following after Leon. She's more familiar with the justicar now that they've spoke more than her interactions with the others; there's still a gut feeling about Leon that she can't make of but she'll put some trust in the capable guy. She walks to the side but just behind Leon for him to lead. The gates are towering once again, leaving her in awe at the size. Her only worry is if Leon's going to rest at an inn, where is she to go? The money pouch at her side is so light at her side that she keeps forgetting she has any money at all.

The guards give them a once over, examining them from head to toe. They nod towards Jezebel but when they turn to Leon, one asks, "Remove your helmet." Leon looks up at the guards and shakes his head, reaching into a pouch and pulling from it a piece of folded parchment. In addition it came with a religious symbol and he waved it to them. "I'm a member of the clergy. You won't be taking anything off my persons until I break the laws. I have the documentation here and the weapons upon my belt."

As if they were kicked with a boot, their expressions show surprise then panic. "Oh! My apologies, sir." And with no more questions or interventions, they allow Leon and Jezebel to pass. The monk gives Leon a puzzled look; do justicars' have that much influence to enter cities with no question? When the two finally enter the city, Jezebel asks Leon, "A member of a religious order is allowed to do that? "

"It's not exactly any religious order, more ours specifically. The pantheon has a high influence here. See the silver legion aren't stupid and by keeping religious figures content, we don't say anything to them. Of course that's not always the case and some cities ignore our papers all together, like I'm about to try the king for his crimes. However the general rule of thumb is that we're entitled access in exchange for a blind eye to their lack of compassion towards the other races." He exhales through his nose. He knew deep down that corruption spread rife through the world and even his order in service of Veritas was plagued by it. Still, it was nice to have immunity within the walls.
"When I get to the inn, would you mind sharing a room with me?"

"I won't mind sharing," answers Jezebel, a bit too fast on her part. She can't explain her money issues but she'll take whatever offer she can get if it means not spending too much.

But those guards... So that's why they were examining her in such a way. Jezebel nods to Leon's explanation, remembering hearing of cities that have blatant prejudice against other races aside from humans. She remembers the city she used to live in, remembering only to have met only humans; was that city like this one? Jezebel glances at the city folk who are out doing their own businesss. The majority is definitely human but that can't mean that they are all prejudice against other races, right? She frowns as she views a group of people exchanging pleasantries; how could she tell aside the obvious stares like those guards?

"Let's go look for that inn then," comments the monk, waiting for Leon to lead.
Leon nods and begins to lead the way around. The city streets weren't the best he'd seen. They weren't cobbled but they were better than dirt. Small stones poured over and dug deep into the soil of the path. It was wide enough for two horses and their carts but none seemed to be travelling at the moment. He paid no mind to it though, he was focused on finding a place to rest.
The duo walk three streets before finding the only obvious inn. It held a wooden sign out front with the damning words of, "McHiggans Family Inn." He nods to himself and looks to the door. It was no different to any other in the town. A pale brown with grey walls beside it. Colour wasn't something they had in abundance here but that didn't phase him either.

He places his hand upon the door and with a firm push, he realises it needed to be pulled. He turns the handle while pulling the door and inside lay a number of neatly set up tables with an awkwardly placed staircase taking the left side of the room's attention. The room was uneven to the door, being deeper into the earth. He descends the few steps from the door and once his boot hits the floor, he gains the attention of just about every inn goer. Some appeared to be there for drinks but others had their families there for a nice lunch out.
"Inn keep?" He calls looking around the room. No one stepped forward at first so he repeats himself, this time louder. "Inn keep?"
"Oh uhh, h-hello sir. And ma'am. C-can I help you?"
"May we have a room?"

Having a guy step into a family inn in full armor is eye catching. The place gives a warm comforting vibe for the monk, a feeling appreciated after their gruesome battle. The lighting gives a orange and yellow glow to the inside, adding to the ambience. Jezebel gives a nervous smile to the innkeeper who's obviously intimidated by Leon. The woman stutters out a 'y-yes' before getting a ledger to attend to them. She continues, finally calming herself down, "Here are our rates," pointing to the ledger. "How long will you be staying?"

Jezebel shuffles on her feet, watching the other patrons of the inn whisper amongst themselves in her peripheral vision. "Just the night. We're passing through." Leon gazes over the ledger and notices the incredibly low prices of the rooms. Well, low to him. To others the prices were fairly average but Leon was used to a bit of haggling back and forth for average prices. "Will you be sharing a room?"
"That's right. A larger bed if we may." She looks at him with wide eyes for a fleeting moment and nods quickly. "Third room on the right. Water's outside at the well. We'll bring up towels and fresh sheets." Leon tilts his head to the side for a moment in confusion but shrugs it off, making his way upstairs to the room. Perhaps she could see the dried blood through his visor?

They have big beds in a family inn? Jezebel's still wondering about that, not catching the last bit the innkeeper added. To have two large beds... maybe this city's average wealth is high? The monk follows after Leon with no question but taking note of the flushed face of the innkeeper. The stairs creak with each step they take. Seconds later, in the narrow hallway, they reach their room. A bed is accompanied with a nightstand on one sides. A table with two chairs lie in one corner of the room. A chest is at the foot of the bed. A window is across the room, revealing that they are at ground level.
Well... the bed is large.... but
"Uh..." Jezebel stares at the single bed in the room. Yeah, it's large but there's only one? She side glances Leon- surely the justicar doesn't think like that, given from what she's seen so far. He is "married" to Veritas. Aside from that, the monk isn't comfortable enough to share a bed.... but money.... but sleep.. but space. Her teacher would be laughing at her if he were to spectate this scenario. "Hmm..." She could sleep on the edge...

Leon enters the room rather calmly, making a beeline for the chairs. He looks to the monk who appears to give him a very strange glance and finds everyone to be acting very strange. He failed to find anything wrong with hiring the room but the behaviour of both the inn keep and the monk gave him the idea something was very amiss with the situation. Regardless, he was itching to take his heavy suit off and let his body breathe.
He begins with his shin guards as always, and slowly works his way up. He strips the armour off and leaves it on the floor beside the chair in a messy heap. While inside the city he didn't feel threatened and doubted the guards or anyone else would give him trouble if he lounged around the same as them.

It took some time but eventually he was stripped of all his armour with his helmet being placed on the table. As well as his weapons and sacred scroll. With himself exposed and the scroll in the open, he couldn't help but take it in his hands and confirm the identity of the target. The scroll remained unchanged as he studied the names intently. The full identity of king Riglov, as obvious as the sun in the sky, stared back at him from the page. He smiles and places it down on the table, letting loose a sigh.

Jezebel had inched into the room while Leon was doing his business. Right when he started taking off his armor, the monk now resides on the bed with her form close the edge. She wasn't going to allow her mind to stir up any nonsense. She didn't have to worry though; the moment she got comfortable, having not slept on a bed for days already, Jezebel is lulled to sleep in seconds.

 

[JokerValentine]

Interacting with: Morgrim

That was not what was exactly ordered, per se. The order was to reduce his opponent with a simple drawing of blood. Riglov could have had this birdbrain executed on the spot, but on that day he found himself rather impressed. The bearskin knew how to play with a little tiny sword, how adorable. Of course, the keep was now one less general, a poor one to say the least. "I've seen horses fight one another better, Shitling" Riglov said, showing his unimpression, motioning for the guards to attend to the mess before him. He enjoyed a good fight every so often, and as a show of grace he gave the champion some kindness by letting him live out however few days he had left. Sooner or later, the king could have this pitiful excuse for life snuffed out.

Riglov decided he was not entirely satisfied with the outcome of the battle. At the very least he wanted to see Shitling in some form of pain. There were so many options to choose from, all at his disposal. He could stick a funnel and see how much alcohol he could stomach, feed him the rancid cuts from the pantry, have his legs snapped like twigs so he could crawl on the ground like a pathetic dog. Although a champion, Shitling could never win, as he was a perpetual loser, a genetic mistake. The forbidden of romance between a dove and a human, however impossible it sounded, could never be glorified as anything close to a victory.

"You know, Shitling IV," the king stated, "Your victory is so... boring to me. For any good fool, m you're supposed to at least impress even the lowest of the stewards, yet you have done no such thing. You've wasted my time, Shitling. You... bore me"

Riglov raised his right hand into a fist, and immediately an arrow flew out from the throne room. AN archer, hidden in case of emergency, fired a bow onto the fool, aiming not for anything vital, but something that would bring great pain. He aimed to lodge an arrow into the part of his bodice where his wings connected into his back, hoping to give the bird beast a memorable scar.

At that moment, some high-ranking generals in the Silver Legion entered into the parlay. Seeking the king, and ignoring his pitiful excuse for a servant, they beseeched him. "Your grace, the guides have been slain. We know this for sure. We ask for your counsel on the matter. shall we send troops to the forest in. hopes of stopping this band? Or shall we-"

The king cut them off. "I am so tired of this band of fools. Do they not know that entering into this castle is near impossible? I would take it that it would be. Double the posted regimen around the mines, since that's apparently where they want to go as I've heard. if they are spotted, release the hounds onto them. They are hungry you know."

 

[Alstromeria]

Riktos was not liking this. Those who had been slain were not even cold in the ground yet, and the guide was pushing on. This took the grizzled combat veteran back quite a bit, and his eyebrows raised in suprise. Riktos himself was fine, but some werent exactly in fighting shape. He gently picked up Alaria from where she was unconscios on the ground. He cradled her in his arms, and made certain to keep her head upright and feet tucked over his arm so he wouldn't smack them on anything by accident. He glanced over his shoulder, now wary about the creatures that were sure to come after the remains of the unburied ogre. The situation was going south evermore, and that was something Riktos was not fond of. He always liked to have the upper hand, or at least equal footing. Rushing headlong into enemy territory without any other kind of information, knowledge, or even a well thought out plan would be suicide. Riktos was sure he could keep himself alive even if things had gone from bad to worse, but Alaria...

He was part of a group now. And he couldn't just focus on himself anymore.

Nodding as the justicar gave him a better oriented plan, Riktos nodded, greatful that at least someone had the good sense to at least open the city gates for the others. But even so, Riktos was doubtful a head on assault would suceed, even the bear did not like the idea of rushing into a city. Cities were dangerous, and full of men. Any of which that could strike from anywhere, and with no trees or heavy underbrush to hide in, the hard stones underfoot would make combat dificult. There would be nothing for his claws to dig into, and even boots could slip on wet cobble.

Silently, Riktos backed into the trees, shielding Alaria from the rough branches and snapping twigs. This was not a choice she was able to make at the moment, but she would once she was awake and healed. He found a large pine to bed down on, and after scraping away the dead needles and resin, laid Alaria down on an earthy, soft bed.

He set up a snare outside the tree, and placed some of the elderberries he had managed to save under itas bait. Within no time he had caught a plump rabbit. After skinning the rabbit, he kindled a small pit fire, wrapped the small fuzzy creature in leaves, and cooked it in the ground under a low burning, low smoke fire he kindled with flint from his pouch and steel from his hunting knife. It would have cooked by the time Alaria was awake. Once she was, Riktos dug up the rabbit and offered some to her. "Eat." He rumbled, only taking his share after she had finished.

"The others would have rushed headlong to a slaughter if not for the good sense of the Justicar." Riktos explained between bites, "Morgrim the guide, his leadership is worse than I initially expected." A bit of grease stained the side of his cheek as he set down his part of the rabbit. "This is actually the only food any of the party has eaten thusfar, unless they found some on the way. I still doubt that, but some of us need to eat."

Riktos was finished with his tyrade on food, but still had yet to adress his concerns of battle. "When it comes time to fight, it will take more than just the spirit of high adventure to convince me to step foot past the city gates and fight alongside mindless footmen fueled by vengeance and idiocy" He mused, "If I were on my own instead I would lure the enemy into the woodlands."

Anaxileah

 

[Anaxileah]

​

Everything was...dark. Dark...and suffocating.

Alaria was suddenly in the middle of the forest, far from her actual location with Riktos and the rest of her newfound allies. The luscious greenery that surrounded her was not one she recognized immediately, not until her parents burst into the serene scene, startling the lizard-elf hybrid. "Mother? Father?" Alaria meant to speak, but as she formed the words with her lips, she found that no sound emanated from her mouth. Confused and frightened, Alaria reached towards her parents, intending to contact them through means other than sound, but her hand went directly through the arm of her mother, who disregarded her daughter entirely. It appeared to Alaria that the two of them couldn't see each other, either, which meant that they died alone. The green-haired female watched as both of her parents were slain by the Elven hunters of her hometown, left on their last breaths as they departed and spoke of the abomination that became of the two parents. Alaria knew what happened after the soldiers left - she herself found them and buried them after taking her father's weapon and fulfilling his wishes. But that didn't change how painful it was to watch her parents die, regardless of how realistic the events were in her mind. Alaria had never truly seen them fight for their lives, but she imagined it in a million different ways, each time wondering how she could've done something to save them.

"I've found you." A voice breathed on the back of the reptilian's neck, causing her to spin around in fear, her bright green gaze met by an icy blue one, giving the cold-blooded woman a chill more intense than any snowstorm she'd been in. He was a scarred elf hunter bearing the mark of her home village and a vicious, lopsided grin. In an attempt to react quickly, Alaria pulled away from the male and reached for her weapon, letting her skin shed to reveal the scales underneath as she faced her opponent, but her weapon was not with her, and neither was anything else that could be of use. A blade pressed to her neck as the male elf appeared behind her, keeping her immobile as she struggled to break free only to speak into her ear a multitudinous amount of threats. "That's only the beginning of what I'm going to do to you, you dishonorable mutant." The man's nasal voice pierced through her mind just as his blade did the same to her scaly neck.

Alaria sat up quickly with a soundless scream, her hands both going to her throat before the sides of her face, rubbing away the dampness that resided there. Breathing heavily, the reptile-elf glanced around to get a feel for her surroundings, still paranoid from the nightmare that haunted her. The ground beneath her was soft and cool to the touch after she dug her fingers beneath the surface of the Earth, enveloping them in dirt. She smelled the scents of the forest around her, which consisted of different animals, the scent of dung (duh, it's nature), and of fire, which was a few feet from where she was now seated. Her eyes traveled from the dirt surrounding her to the fire nearby, then to the large male that sat beside it, his attention on the animal he was cookingup. No doubt for a meal... Alaria thought briefly before wiping her hands on her cloak, preparing herself to get up and approach Riktos.

The incredibly light-headed feeling that resulted in said attempt caused her to feel dizzy and nauseated, one of her hands reaching up to her head in an attempt to still the spinning world. Riktos approached her not long after her small dizzy spell with a determined look in his eye and a demanding tone to his voice. "Eat." At first she hesitated, the earlier feeling of nausea still plaguing her stomach, but she knew his intentions were good and that it had been a while since she had eaten. She took a small amount of the meat from the rabbit and slipped them into her mouth slowly, savoring the warmth of the cooked animal and the lack of hunger she felt after consuming her small portion. She didn't have to eat a lot, so the rest would hopefully keep Riktos satisfied until they found more food, whether it be in a tavern or in the woods.

When Riktos finished eating, he proceeded to converse with Alaria regarding the recklessness of their leader and his thoughts towards their combative strategy, obviously disapproving of Morgrim's decision to take the city and the mines in two separate parts rather than bringing the enemy to a turf everyone would be more comfortable with. Alaria nodded, agreeing with him. "It would be less problematic if we fought here, since no one knows the inside of the city as well as those we will be fighting do. But it's a bit late for us to say anything about it now..." Alaria murmured as she gazed in the direction of the mines and the city, their allies making up their minds on whether or not to follow Morgrim or Leon. Alaria reached up to her head once more, touching her wound with her fingertips before bringing her hand back down and gazing at the thick, green liquid that seeped from her wound. Her regenerative powers weren't working as fast as usual because of the aid of health she gave to Roxii and Marie, but the flowing blood was slowing down, which was a good sign.

Alaria looked to her ally, blushing lightly. Did he carry me here? She thought to herself, embarrassed. "I apologize if I've been a burden, Riktos. Thank you for taking care of me. What would you like to do next? Head to the caves, or...?" Her voice trailed off, the female already aware of the fact that the city was not an option to Riktos. She gazed at him with her emerald eyes, taking in his rugged appearance and admiring him as she awaited his reply, her cheeks remaining the pale green color.​

Addressed: Alstromeria | Mentioned: Crumbli shadowz1995 AnimusLight Javax Federoff Morgrim CarpeNoctem1213 @Luckz| Status: Having a Nightmare -> Waking Up -> Speaking w/ Riktos | Mood: Terrified -> Paranoid ->Thankful -> Embarrassed | Location: In Da Woods | Inventory: Satchel, bow, armor, arrows x23 (she can easily make more), hunting knife, cloak | Notes: Boop ​

 

[Morgrim]

Super long overdue shit, but sorry I couldn't find the motivation to make a post before.))

Morgrim Hemwick
Mentions: Anaxileah shadowz1995 Federoff Luckz Alstromeria JokerValentine Crumbli AnimusLight Javax (Mass mention sorry, but just need to know who is still in the rp)

Morgrim had enough faith that the other group could make it into the city. He wanted this to be a proof of their skill, see how well they could handle things on their own without someone spoon feeding them plans and strategies. If they couldn't think for themselves they had no place in this group or on this mission. He figured they would come up with something like the human members infiltrating the city, and then letting them in later in the night. A solid enough plan, but there were always plenty of places to sneak in through even besides the main gate. Like sewers, or in the back of a caravan. Whatever got them through though.

The mine was a different matter though, requiring far less tact, and far more brute force. Morgrim seriously lacked any stealth abilities, but when it came to overpowering magic he was a beast to be sure. It seemed the wolf elf wanted to join him, but it wasn't really a surprise. She may act like a heartless assassin, but really she had a soft spot buried beep beneath the bruises and scars. Others wanted to go to the city, while most was waiting it out to be let in later in the night. He grumbled at the fact that he was going to be stuck with the beastkin alone, on what with their current numbers was basically a suicide mission, but no one said it was going to be easy.

He camped out, and waiting for the sun to set, at the nearest part in the forest adjacent to the mine entrance. He noticed something odd, more guards came in during this time, and took their places, bolstering their numbers by double the amount for seemingly no reason. So far nothing had been done to tip them off of their position, so it must have meant that something else alerted them, and then it became clear. It must have been the guides. Both of the cannibals that murdered five of their group. Now he suspects them to have been working for the silver legion, but it made no difference now, nothing more those bastards could have done to ruin their day.

"Wolf elf." He said turning to the girl. "I know you don't like me very much, but I hope at the very least you will trust me. Now that their guard has increased we can't simply brute force this, we need a plan. Lucky for me you are a beastkin, and have particular talents." He said eyeing up the hybrid, with a plan forming in his mind. The mines dealt exclusively with beast kin, and she was one. more so she looked small and weak visually, plus the scars from the most recent battle, she could easily pass as one of the workers. "I want you to take out one of the guards, quietly, and take his shackles. I want you to put them on, and go into the mine. I'm sure your carrying at least a few lockpicks on you, and can easily get out. We need to strike from both the inside and the out. You free the prisoners, and kill the guards inside, while I deal with the ones outside. If we are lucky about this it should work without either of us losing our lives. I'll give you twenty minutes, and then I will start my assault."

Morgrim did something that was odd next, he grabbed a vial from his pouch, and drew one of his knives, cutting a small part on his arm, and draining blood into the glass vial. Morgrim had special blood, along with magic that was highly poisonous, and adaptive. Using his magic he charged it up to turn it into a bomb of destructive biochemical proportions. Breathing it in could mean the less resilient would have their insides liquefied, too bad the potion only lasts for a few seconds. "Oh and do yourself a favor wait for me to come down before you come up, otherwise you might breath in the poison."

 

[Morgrim]

Ash was utterly shocked, he was told that his master wanted to see blood, wanted to see death, but the fat fucking prick used it as an excuse to just inflict more pain on the poor beastkin. As soon as Riglov raised his hand, an arrow was shot at the base of his right wing, and it made him gasp in pain as he fell to one knee. The pain was like being electrocuted. He was trying just his hardest to hold back the tears, he swore he would kill Riglov, that he would end his tyranny, but there was nothing he could do all by himself. It did nothing to stop the anger from welling up inside of him.

"You stupid fat fuck, I swear I will get you back for this!" His body was on autopilot, his mind overridden, he knew he was going to suffer dearly for that comment, but he lost all his senses. All he could do was shout as he lay there on the ground in pain. He was praying now that the guide and his companions would come and kill the old man, so that the bird could be freed from his cage, and know freedom for the first time in a long time.