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| The Sentinel [Open] | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 16 2009, 06:09 PM (187 Views) | |
 Kazuya
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Aug 16 2009, 06:09 PM Post #1 |
Council Elemental
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The city was quiet. There was the cackle of slow burning fire, the occasional cacophony of another building, too weak to hold itself up any longer, falling over, the collective groan of the undead, but the city was quiet. There wasn't any sound created by anything living, but only the echoes of destruction. The city as quiet. A blond figure watched as a few of the undead soldiers ambled down one of the streets. While only a few were about now, if one was alerted they would swarm within moments, overwhelming their prey with numbers and unyielding persistence. He'd seen it happen so many times before to know better than to provoke a fight. After they were out of sight, he backed away from the roof he was perched on and ran to the other side. He nimbly slid off the roof, landing in a crouch to absorb the impact of his fall. He glanced around nimbly and silently made his way through the alleys, sticking to shadows and dark corners to avoid any confrontation. He approached a partially destroyed building. Glancing around again, he moved aside some of the wreckage and squirmed his way into the destroyed building. The smells of mold and dust and wood assaulted his nose. While the building was caved in, a small section of it still stood. There was a small table and two chairs, innocuous in appearance yet horribly out of place with the destruction that faced it. He moved to the table and touched the floor that it sat on. The table and chairs faded from existence, revealing stairs that led into the earth. He took those stairs. The illusion replaced itself as he traversed into the darkness. He didn't walk long until he reached a hallway that was dimly lit. The hallway led to a large oak doorway. The blond youth touched the door. A symbol appeared on the door and the air grew heavy for a second. With a click, the door was unlocked. He was met by suspicious and scared eyes when he entered. In the room were the injured and the sick and the young and the old...those who could not make it out of the city in time. The boats had gone, those who tried to hold back the army to the undead had either fallen or escaped on the ships. The blond boy was just part of the Stranded; those were weren't killed, but unfortunate enough to be unable to escape. The room he had entered was cavernous; it was a safe area, of sorts, for the Legacy members back when they and the Council were bitter enemies. There were a good number of people in the hidden cavern, yet it was hardly enough for anyone to feel crowded. A large man approached the blond as he was shutting the door behind him. He was tall and muscular; a veritable wall of muscle, yet he walked with grace that was usually reserved for those of slender builds and genteel upbringing. His features were fierce and unassailable; he looked as though he'd seen his fair share of battles and then some. his right arm ending at a stump where his elbow would be, the man looked like a force to be reckoned with. "Adelbert. Report," rumbled the man. Adelbert, small blond man though he was, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the huge warrior. "Chibuike, you should not be walking around with that injury," he scolded, nodding his head at the man's stump. Chibuike merely grunted in reply. Adelbert stared at the man longer before sighing and muttering something about stubborn Legacy captains. "The troops are still strong in the city. They definitely mean to occupy it. What's worse is that they're baiting people to come and attack. They'll leave one alone and, if its attacked, they'll swarm the attacker." "The docks?" "Not really guarded. But the chances of there being a boat that can allow us escape is rare." The council mage folded his arms, looking troubled. "I don't know what to do next." "That's simple. We live." Adelbert opened his mouth to respond when the oaken door groaned. Someone was trying to gain entry. Adelbert and Chibuike shared a look. "Is anyone else scouting?" asked Adelbert. "No. Will the charms hold?" "Provided that that isn't a high level mage out there, yes. The undead don't know or use magic, to my knowledge." The door was suddenly blown in with a strong gust of wind. Adelbert was whipped out of the path of the shattered oak door. He looked up at Chibuike before looking at the lithe figure that emerged from the shadows of the passage. Adelbert gasped. "Kazuya! I didn't know you were still here. Tell me, how is the Queen? Did she evacuate safely? Lady Amara?" asked the mage, moving to approach the man. He was held back by Chibuike, who was glaring at Kazuya as he would a dangerous foe. Adelbert looked at Kazuya again and gasped as the mage finally entered the light of the room. His once pale skin was now ashen. Lively green eyes were dulled, blond locks were now matted with dirt and blood and sweat. Clothing was torn. The once youthful and beautifully cold Kazuya was a husk of his former self. Yet that daring grin that spelled trouble for anyone lingered on his lips. "Kazuya?" asked Adelbert, now unsure, questioning. He barely heard Chibuike bark silent orders to the few Earth Order soldiers they had with them. The injured and sick were being moved and anyone able bodied and capable of holding a weapon was gearing up for battle. "Foxes in their foxholes...hehehe..." Kazuya pulled out Manmocker and, with a flourish that was reminiscent of the old Kazuya, he unfolded the fan and hid his lower face as he giggled delicately, brokenly. "What happened to you?" asked Adelbert softly, eyes filled with concern, worry, and fear. "Rats...hahaha, RATS in their rat holes." It was as though Kazuya hadn't heard Adelbert's question. Adelbert looked up when Chibuike placed a large hand on his shoulder. "That is not the man you knew." "Something has obviously happened to him! He needs our help!" shouted Adelbert; he was the only mage in the room; he was unsure if any other members of the Council had escaped. He wasn't so willing to treat Kazuya as an enemy. "He is beyond our means," grunted Chibuike. Kazuya's grin faded into a blank mask. A dirt smudged, blood stained, porcelain mask. "Enough talk." Kazuya waved his fan and a blast of wind assaulted them. People cried out in surprise, in fear. Adelbert crossed his arms in front of his body, feeling magic of enchantment flow into the charms and talismans he wore on his person, creating a barrier. Kazuya launched himself forward, a blur of speed and magic. His razor sharp fan swung out at Adelbert, but was blocked by Chibuike's blade. The large man pushed Kazuya back and then attacked with a swift slash. Kazuya jumped over the blade, and, upon landing, thrust a hand out, throwing a wall of wind at the man. The force of the magical attack sent the giant flying towards the far wall. Adelbert moved, but Kazuya's heel caught his chin with a swift spin kick. The soldiers who moved to attack were rebuffed by a wave of Kazuya's fan; another gale of wind slammed them backwards into a wall. Kazuya was crouched low, an arm extended behind him, his fan folded neatly against his wrist, his other hand touching the ground. Adelbert felt his sore jaw and tasted a warm coppery liquid dripping down his lip; blood. He looked up at the crouched air gensai. He heard a groan and looked at the destroyed doorway. "Consider yourselves unfortunate. You shall not die this day. Instead, you shall be enslaved. The Master needs manual labor...luckily for him, there are still rats in their rat holes that would be of great aid..." Kazuya stood and walked backwards, allowing for the undead soldiers to make rank and start in towards the scared citizens. The soldiers who were knocked away by Kazuya had finally gathered themselves and, with yells of defiance, engaged the undead in battle. Adelbert watched numbly as the soldiers fought the undead horde and then looked at Kazuya, who was watching the fight with a carefully blank expression... Edited by Kazuya, Aug 16 2009, 06:10 PM.
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| Araman Manthergan | Oct 3 2009, 06:27 PM Post #2 |
 
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The inhuman screech seemed to cut through everything, although there was very little for it to cut through, the city had fallen only small pockets of resistance remained to stop the unrelenting horde's of undead, and they had only remained because they could not escape. Araman looked down upon the streets of Carthan, his dark eyes trained to pick out the smallest details though he had little need for such skill, his foe roamed clumsily through the cluttered streets of the southern quarter. Dead filled the streets, though this lone figure seemed to ignore them, and even from his vantage point atop a three story tavern once known as The White Eagle, Araman could see the inhuman stride, the almost dead looking skin and lifeless eyes, it was one of the undead, the bearer of the haunting scream that had cut through his very being and the bringer of death to this once grand city. His lips remained still, his intentions clear as his hand reached to the cross bow at his side, without a thought he unclipped the bronze lock and brought the cross bow into his hand, even from this distance a static target could easily be hit with a short range weapon such as this, and an undead monster that prefered to stare at the dead than find something new to slay was about as static as you could get. With careful timing, he made himself fully aware taking in the wind direction and speed, adjusting his aim carefully before he slowly pressed his finger upon the trigger, the mechanism slid into place before the heavy bolt soured through the air before striking home upon its targets back. The scream that followed was enough to render the soul of any man, though Araman had heard it all before, he had spent the last few hours practising and honing his aim for the real prize. He was trapped in this city of nightmares, he would be lucky to find a ship in the docks, and even luckier to find a city gate not guarded by scores of undead and vampires. No instead, he would turn his attention to survival, finding someone lucky enough to survive and then turn to the sewers and the roof tops, and bring war to these foul beasts. His attention was torn suddenly as he heard several more foul horrors approach, and before long several undead burst forth to the source of their dying comrade, though Araman was long gone, he had fled along the roof tops leaping from one to the next, making his way slowly down to lower levels before he finally leaped down to ground level, rolling over his shoulder to come to his feet with crossbow ready before he retreated into the shadows. He looked about, hoping that the foul beasts had not turned back to scour the area, but more he hoped that they had no Vampire to catch his scent, that is what he truely feared. As he slowly made his way through the shadows of the alley's, he suddenly felt his luck run out, a door beside him burst open, splinters of wood smashing into his left side as he was thrown into a wall only to find the decaying flesh of an undead creature grabbing his arm. He felt the grip of the lifeless fingers curl around his upper arm, and without hesitation he drew his short curved blade and without as much as a word drove it into the chest of the creature. The defening scream cut through him, but he ignored it, he had to kill this thing and quickly before it drew more to its aid and in a swift move he brought his blade back and then slashed it across the beasts throat, throwing its head back hanging by only a thread as the being fell back. No blood flowed from its dead corpse, but then it was a corpse already, all Araman knew was that he had to run, but it was too late. As he turned around, ready to flee, he was met by the pale white dread like face of a human, no, a Vampire! The creature bared its teeth before it sent its fist into Araman's chest, throwing him back several feet against another wall, and without hesitation the creature drew a short blade its eyes staring almost judging Araman before it hissed from between its blackened lips "Human. I shall enjoy your taste, oh I shall indeed." Araman maintained his vice like grip on his sword hilt as he looked up, meeting the gaze of his undead counter part before a smile touched his lips, if this was to be his end then he should take this bastard with him "And I shall enjoy the sight of your death Shadow Fiend! Defend yourself!" Without further word, he launched himself forward bringing his blade up in an attempt to cut the legs from beneath the creature, but it was too fast, his foe had swiftly brought its own weapon down to block the sudden assault and before Araman could react, it had grasped his wrist and tossed him like a childs toy across the alley to land heavily upon the ground. Dazed by the sudden counter, Araman struggled to rise, though from what he could see as he looked up he saw several more figures but he could not take it in, he could not think nor could he make out whom these figures where, and then he passed out from conciousness. Upon awaking, Araman suddenly found himself looking up into the eyes of a man, a human, though nonetheless he jumped at the sight his hand instinctively going for where his sword should have been. The man above him quickly grabbed his arm speaking quickly in a rushed voice "Calm yourself! Calm! You are with allies!" Araman shook his head, and quickly assessed his surroundings, he was in what looked like a cavern like room filled with men though not enough to fully fill it to crowding point, upon closer inspection he could see soldiers garbed in the red of Carthan, it seemed he had been snatched from deaths grasp. He looked up at the man above him, a smile touching his lips as he nodded toward the Carthan soldier "I thank you Soldier, you have Saved me and for this I owe you my Honor." The soldier laughed, sitting back against the cavern wall before he spoke "You owe me nothing Terran, it is nice to see one of your kind here, it reassures us at least." Araman smiled, pulling himself to a seated position before quickly locating and retrieving his equipment and sheathing and attaching it to his person. As he looked around, he could see several particular figures, many soldiers, a captain or two and also what looked to be a pair of Mage's. He didnt like Mage's. He tore his mind from such thoughts, he should be happy at least that a Mage was present to mask their location and more importantly to be a faithful ally in the face of the enemy. As he ceased to think, he turned to the Carthan Soldier and smiled before speaking "What is your name Soldier?" The man looked up at him, obviously the man had also been lost in thought before he quickly and kindly gave a swift reply "My name is Joanar, Joanar Ai'erma." Araman smiled, Joanar, but was it really wise to become attached to anyone here? They could all be dead in a few days, and the loss of someone you know would hamper his ability, but it mattered not the deed was done and he gave his in return "Araman Manthergan." He ceased, realising that something was going on between the Mage's, he didnt ask but slowly stood his hand not straying from his blade, and he was right to be weary. In a swift moment, a wall of what seemed to be nothing struck him and threw him across the room into a wall striking his head on the stone of the wall. He couldnt think, yet again he was stuck in a daze unable to do anything as he struggled to get to his feet before a second wall of nothing struck him forcing him back to the ground. After a few minutes, he managed to regain sense, suddenly realising that something big had just happened, either the damned Mage's had realised whom he was, or they had engaged each other. The latter became aparant as Joanar grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet, as Araman looked up he saw the fear in the soldiers eyes and quickly turned around to see what it was that had drawn his gaze. Undead. Ranks of undead led by a single Vampire, staring them down, the screams of the citizens, women and children coursed over him and he knew he had to do what every soldier here was doing. He drew blade and without another word, he rose to his feet and without thought charged forward, his curved blade coming down to take one of the undead in the lower neck, and no blood came forth from the wound.... |
 Signature made by Jose of SGO | |
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| Shalinda Undire | Oct 3 2009, 07:30 PM Post #3 |
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Since the takeover of the city, most of the people had either become unfortunate victims to the enemy's onslaught, or were lucky enough to find hiding places within the ruins of the once great city. The woman from Semhar was one of those fortunate few, having donned a hooded cloak to help conceal her bright apparel from sight. Each time someone walked by, she slid a little further into the shadows, holding her breath to avoid being spotted, only to release it when the figure walked by. She knew she couldn't hide forever, but with the numerous undead walking around, how would she get herself and the others down to the docks and the boats bound for the land of Gnard? Hearing screams nearby, Shalinda gasped and forgot herself, standing up to see what was happening. Immediately, one of the zombies spotted her and slowly moved in her direction, moaning pitifully. "I am sorry, but I pray that you will find peace in the afterlife. May the Goddess of Light forgive you." She whispered before holding her staff up, and willed the stone within to shine a brilliant light for about three seconds. To those in hiding, she called out, "Hurry! Follow me! I will lead you all to safety!" With that, she would wait for everyone to run past her before bringing up the rear, hoping to Aurora that all was not lost this time. Goddess, give me strength to lead these people to respite...I cannot falter here...not after I was so cowardly before... Every now and again she would stop and glance back, hoping that none would follow her and the small group of refugees to the docks. |
| The Goddess is my shield; let her Light banish the darkness! | |
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| Vorigan | Oct 3 2009, 07:54 PM Post #4 |
 
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Vorigan looked around with disgust, not because he was a Vampire and these humans were below him but because he hated Zombies. His twentieth century mind made him automatically want to kill them. But his origins, his past, none of that was him now. He could not allude to how old he was, what he remembered...he was Vorigan now, he was Lord Vlad's son, and general, and he'd been ordered to speak with the Grand Master and discuss terms for friendship between them. Almighty Vlad was convinced an accord could be reached. Secretly, Vorigan knew, his father wanted Carthan. He'd flown to Kalimshere and seen the destruction. It was something that did bring a smile to his face. He'd seen the ruin of Terra as he'd flown over head. He was happy to see the country's destruction but he was upset at the cost of Vampire lives, troops would have been wiped out. Fucking Terrans, he'd told Vlad to attack the city would weaken them, and he'd been right. There were only a handful that had returned to Karash, alive, many had died days later. He shook his head and pushed a zombie out of its way. The blank stare of the creature turned to one of distress and it moved out of his way. He looked around the room. Cavernous and dark. They were in the bowls of the great Magic School dungeons. There were many tunnels down here. The smell was over powering with undead. He looked around, trying to find out who was in charge. He was looking for the one the dead were calling Lord Kazuya. Apparently there were someone handing out the Grand Master's justice. What he needed was for this Lord Kazuya to take him to the Grand Master's presence. He tripped over a Carthian refugee and cursed audibly. "Peasant, out from under my feet!" It was a mage, a younger man and he looked like he wanted to fight, even behind the terror was anger. The young man cringed then stood up and used a spell, casting a force of wind to throw Vorigan back, but only succeeded in throwing his comrades to the side and also knocking himself over. Vorigan lifted his foot and very dispassionately crushed the young mage's skull. The zombies around him hesitated before them descended upon the pile of flesh, but Vorigan nodded his head and they fell to feasting. The sound made the Vampire prince turn away in disgust. It was while he turned away that he caught sight of a blonde man, skilled with his blade as he attacked the zombies. Vorigan stood by idly waiting for the man to be surrounded...which he was, but not quickly, he took several down but unfortunately for him they just got back up. Vorigan took a step close to the man, watching him with a wicked smile. "Terran, aren't you?" He waited for the man to speak, but when he didn't he spoke again. "Interesting to see you so far from home, but not surprising...what with the destruction...or didn't you know?" He said. There was a light laugh that left the vampire general's lips. "Judging by your expression, you have no idea, do you?" |
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| Araman Manthergan | Oct 4 2009, 07:53 AM Post #5 |
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The firelight from the rooms walls flickered as it danced of the bladed steel of the warriors that fought within, the screams of terror and anguish from the many Carthan citizens accompanied by the inhuman screeching of the undead as they ripped apart their prey was indeed a sound that Araman wished never to hear again. Though he could not help but to think, this would be his last day and he would never have to listen to unearthly sounds again for soon he would be released into the after life to walk the green fields and bask in the morning suns day after waking day. He was barely present in reality, his body had almost completely taken over as the blood thirsty decaying bodies of the undead sprawled over the hopeless defenders, Araman's blade came up to in a single sweep take the arm of one of the foul creatures, the decaying flesh and deprived bones showing no challenge for the well honed blade. He opened his eyes, this was truely a hopeless battle and already several soldiers had falled as his blade flicked out to disembowel another of his wretched foes, Joanar seemed to fight with some sort of unique courage and might slaying all that stood before him as he fought like a man possessed. He couldnt stray any longer, the weight of his foe was coming down upon him and by this time his vision was swarmed by the inhuman beast's, the stench of dead flesh filled his nostrils as he dodged left to avoid the snarling maw of an undead just before bringing his blade down upon its neck to remove it's head, that was one beast that would not rise. How ever he was not so lucky with the others, as the armless undead rose with a renewed howl of terror before it joined it's comrades in the fight. It was becoming desperate, and if something was not done soon then the battle would be lost and all would be killed, no not all only the ones with the means to fight. He cried out a battle cry For the King before his blade cleaved down another undead warrior, and then he went into a frenzy his blade a blur as if he danced between the undead ducking bellow their wicked grasp's and bringing them down one by one. But his efforts where in vain. "Terran, aren't you?" He heard the voice, an inhuman hiss, it sounded like one that he wished would not pass its attention to him, the Vampire. His eyes darted in the direction of the voice, the Vampire indeed stood it's lips curled in an almost cruel smile as it watched him, though Araman had no time for pleasantries as be brought down yet another undead warrior, though his efforts where going to waste. For every undead he brought down, one of the Carthan soldiers was dying and being feasted upon, and more undead where getting back up than where staying dead and those that did not rise, usually had their limbs reattach to some other creature. This was his hour, and it was indeed Dire as he heard the Vampire speak again "Interesting to see you so far from home, but not surprising...what with the destruction...or didn't you know?" Destruction? He had known that the undead horde's where at war with Terra already, he was to travel north to aid, but destruction. Time slowed for a moment, nothing else seemed to matter as he took in the information, everything he had held dear every soul that he had been able to call friend, his family, his king all dead or close to it. He brought himself back to reality, the Vampire stood there, smiling and it would be his last. Araman felt the anger renew him, it filled him, seemed to make the pain of his wounds simply wither away as he cried out in anguish and without further thought cleaved down an undead brefore clutching his crossbow handle whilst still attached to his belt, even a Vampire wouldnt survive a bolt to the chest surely. In that moment, a blinding light took him, he could not see anything and in his daze be could barely hear anything either, and so he quickly pulled hard on the trigger and felt the bolt leave the stock. Before he could do anything, he felt something grab his arm and drag him away, not to the ground as he expected but actually away and he felt his legs taken, guided by this mysterious leader as his eyes began to adjust, and he could see he was outside once more. As he looked around, he saw Joanar with his grip on his arm leading him out through the streets following several citizens led by a mysterious women, and his first thought was instant, a Mage. Nonetheless, he dragged himself from the soldiers grip, only for him to turn "Araman, we have not the time, the god's have shown upon us this day, we must get away!" Araman shook his head, pointing toward the citizens "That is where your business is Joanar, but not mine, for now my business lies with these fiend's, I will avenge my people." As he looked up he could see the others slow, as if to see what was going on but he simply said "I thank you Mage, you have saved us, but I must depart, if it is true that my people are no more, then I must fulfill their dying wish and bring these Vampire fiend's to their knees." He paused for a moment, help would be welcome but he wasnt sure if he would recieve any "Any who wish to cast aside life to bring death, may accompany me, any who wish to live go with my friend Joanar to the docks..." |
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| Vorigan | Oct 12 2009, 01:53 PM Post #6 |
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Vorigan watched the proceedings with little less than interest. He was upset that the prisoners were escaping, but, being as old as he was, he knew that most of them would eventually be caught, some more would die and only a few would ever really escape. He was slightly miffed that the Terran was loose and running, but he also knew Terrans, knew them very well. A Terran would never run away from a Vampire's challenge. It wasn't in their nature. He laughed lightly to himself and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his left hand. The light didn't hurt him, frighten him, but what it did do was annoy him. The flash had hurt his eyes, but no more than it would have hurt anyone else. He took a breath and looked at the zombie guards that were poised, ready for order and he sighed very audibly and motioned in the direction of the stairs that the escaping prisoners had gone. "On your way then after them, you fools!" his voice was a hiss and the undead lumbered quickly into action, fighting one another to get to the top and retrieve what their master wished returned. Vorigan's skin crawled from the closeness of them and shook his head. If his father and King hadn't ordered him to come here and speak with the Grand Master, he never would have come. He turned away from the stairs and walked further down into the dungeon caves, looking for the one they called Kazuya, once found this man would bring him to the Grand Master and they would have their little talk. "And then I can return to my sweet Xanthia." he said to himself, quietly. She was somewhere up above the dungeon, somewhere out there in the daylight, looking radiant and green, with her dark hair flowing in the Carthian wind. She'd asked to come with him. Why...he wasn't exactly certain, but then neither did he care what her motives were. As long as he was with her. It had been centuries since he'd felt such a love for one creature. It had also been centuries since he'd felt jealousy towards his father, who had sole rights to her. That being the case, Vorigan was still firm in his belief that she could go where she wanted to and didn't say no to her company. Never. He wanted her with him always. He turned down the last small cave hallway, the furthest from the stairway and one that took him deeper into the earth. There was light at the end of this tunnel and soon he found himself walking into an elaborate royal chamber, set up with a throne and everything. All was carved out of dark glass like rock and a lovely, thin, young looking man sat at its feet. He looked like he was staring off into nothing, like he was hearing words no one else could. Vorigan cleared his throat and walked closer. "Kazuya? I am looking for your master." |
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| Shalinda Undire | Oct 13 2009, 05:07 AM Post #7 |
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After the three-second burst of brilliant light, the woman leaned over her staff, breathing a bit deep. That took a bit out of her more than she anticipated, but it was enough to do its needed work upon the undead minions. As the civilians tore past, a new voice reached her ears, thanking her, but had decided to settle matters with the apparent vampire before him. "No wait...your people would not want that. If all is lost in that land, they would want you to live...to fight another day...there are more Terrans heading toward the boats. Come with us, please." Shalinda spoke, taking a step toward the armed stranger before more of the zombies were sent against them. Still somewhat exhausted from the earlier attempt, the Semharian woman closed her eyes once more to try and regain some strength before planting the staff firmly in the ground and once more mentally called for the stone to shine. Holding onto her weapon tightly with both hands now, sweat started to bead upon the woman's brow as the light seemed to intensify, scorching the skin of the zombies and all but reduce them to ashes. But after about four seconds though, the light faded quickly, and the golden-clad mage fell softly to the ground, completely exhausted. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to stay conscious as her left hand held onto her staff tightly, refusing to let it go. She had done all she could; it was up to fate now. |
| The Goddess is my shield; let her Light banish the darkness! | |
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| Araman Manthergan | Oct 16 2009, 07:59 AM Post #8 |
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"No wait...your people would not want that. If all is lost in that land, they would want you to live...to fight another day...there are more Terrans heading toward the boats. Come with us, please." Aramans eyes darted back toward the source of the words, it was the soft voice of a women and he could not detect a hint of true fear only the underlying anxiety that they all felt but what concerned him more was the note of fatigue. This concern was further reinforced, as he noticed the source was the golden clad women who had cast the light which allowed them to escape, the mage, and if she was tiring then they had to move quickly if they where only to have a chance at reaching the docks. He snarled, it was not her place to tell him where he stood, and it certainly was not her place to deny him his revenge, his sole right as a Terran. he turned fully, taking a few steps toward the women before he stood clear in front of her, looking down her his violet eyes locking with hers as they narrowed slightly. He took in a breathe, he barely noticed her beauty nor her striking eyes as he opened his mouth to utter out his harsh words made bitter by both the situation and his wish to bring death to these foul vampires "It is not your place Mage to tell me what I can do! My People would want these foul fiends destroyed, for their dying cries to reach their ears one last time before they rose to meet our maker! You go, but I stay, I stay to avenge my people and die doing so!" He stopped abruptly, he noticed something in her eyes, a sudden realisation though he was not foolish enough to think his words had brought this affect so quickly. Suddenly a foul stench came to him, followed by the faint sound of frantic hissing and growls and he knew what had brought this realisation to her eyes, without further thought he spun on his heel and quickly lowered to one knee as he rose his crossbow up, barely taking aim as he let the bolt fly from the bow and watched it crash into the chest of an undead beast, the bolt crushing several ribs as it lodged inside one of the rotting lungs. He couldnt count them, there where too many and he estimated they had been sent by the Vampire, the fearful screams of the citizens overtook him as he drew his blade quickly with percision and skill, though he had no need to. Suddenly, each of the undead burst into flames, the almost white fire licking up from the grounds to bring them to their knees, the smell of burning flesh filling his nostrils. He turned his nose up, the stench was overpowering and he almost didnt hear the last dying moans of the fiends before he turned back, though he did not see what he expected, the mage standing with arms outstretched with an aura of power, no he saw something quite different. He saw the mage doubled over, he legs had buckled and she now lay sprawled on the stone floor her fingers almost white as she grasped her staff with all strength, she was clearly exhausted though if she hadnt done this, they would be dead soon after. He cursed, mumbling under his breathe "Curse you, damnit curse you!" Without further word, he drew a water skin from his side and unscrewed the cap before slowly lifting the mages head to let her drink, he then glanced up at Joanar and his lips opened as he spoke "Joanar, quickly rally the people and begin taking them to the docks, We need to move out quickly." He removed the water skin, replacing it as he slowly helped the mage get to her feet supporting her the whole time "And help the mage, Ill cover our rear." Joanar quickly complied, supporting the mage's weight as he began to lead the citizens off toward the docks, Araman simply reloaded his crossbow keeping his blade out and ready as he began to move swiftly after the large party, covering the rear to at least slow down any pursuit. |
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| Shalinda Undire | Oct 18 2009, 02:15 PM Post #9 |
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Through slitted eyes, she could see someone approaching her fallen body, and slowly lift her head and placed something to her lips. Feeling the coolness of the water, Shalinda drank a little before finding herself slowly being lifted up, the weight of her slender body being supported by an unknown face. The words of the Terran were heard, but for the moment, she just had to remain silent; the last sun-burst had taken far too much for her to even stand. After a few minutes, when the trio were pulling away from the scene of the conflict, the Semharian woman spoke softly as she was still pretty weak. "Revenge...will only beget more vengence...the vampire...was only baiting you into your doom. Do not rush...blindly...into a conflict in which...you do not know...the strength of your foe. I know..." She paused, debating her next choice of words. "...I know I was not strong enough...to defeat them all and remain standing...but one life in defense of others...is far greater of a sacrifice...then all people to witness their fall." That was to say, she didn't mind using her remaining power at that moment to save them all; if need be, she could have kept it up for just a second longer, but felt too weak to continue. At least with her current condition, Shalinda had forced the Terran to act, forgetting his wrath against the vampire for the moment. Lifting her gaze, the docks were not far off now; she could already see the tall masts of the boats in the distance. In an effort to not be so much of a burden on the one helping her to the boats, the gold-clad female used her staff to offset some of the weight, stumbling a bit in the process. |
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Kazuya
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Oct 18 2009, 08:54 PM Post #10 |
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Council Elemental
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"Rats in their rat holes..." muttered Kazuya as he watched the scuffle. The power and grace he exhibited a few minutes ago appeared suddenly withdrawn. He didn't move to aid the undead horde in the capture of the refugees. On the inside, Kazuya was wailing at the sight; he loved the city and the people as much as those who fled did. Kazuya didn't show it as strongly as others, seemingly aloof when it came to most matters, however Kazuya felt just as deeply as anyone. He beat against the magical grip he was in but to no avail; he had no control. Some people were captured, some fought. It mattered not to Kazuya. The wind carried to him some of the conversations, however. A war cry...a taunt... Terran, aren't you? He had knew a Terran. He had saved a Terran...hadn't he? It felt like it was lifetimes ago...it felt hazy...he couldn't remember it so well. He was a king. A mighty king...perhaps. He was someone who was loved. He was someone who was gone. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before someone had spoken his name. Even in his state of disrepair he appeared to keep a glimmer of his loveliness. If anything it seemed more obvious now than usual, where it was masked behind a stern glare, a surely comment (to the general public; those who knew the true Kazuya saw the true Kazuya). Now, in his odd brokeness, Kazuya seemed almost vulnerable when he wasn't animated by the Master's will. "The rats are escaping. I should probably see to their capture personally..." He looked up at the man who spoke to him with green eyes that didn't twinkle. His lips didn't quirk into a quick smirk like the young Kazuya would have done, nor did his eyes harden into a challenging glare like the world-weary Kazuya would have done. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and nodded. "Of course. I will take you to him," Kazuya stood in one smooth movement and the air sighed gently. "And who might I be announcing to my master when he asks who comes calling for him?" he asked. It was odd. He wasn't a total puppet, yet he had no control at all. He operated in some limited capacity according to the Master's will...it was odd magic that he didn't understand or like. Edited by Kazuya, Oct 18 2009, 08:56 PM.
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| Salima Tyhar | Oct 19 2009, 12:50 AM Post #11 |
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No... Please., Salima groaned as she skirted the once populated streets of the city of Kalishmere. This cannot be happening to us. It had happened so fast. Kazash had suddenly swept down from the north and obliterated the nation of Carthan. The Council of Mages was in ruins. The bulk of the population captured or fled, and the mage novices. Salima put her head in her hands. Many were in the hands of the vampires. It was so unreal somehow. She still remembered that fateful day when the armies of undead and the vampires had swept down through the streets, aiming straight for the Queen and her Princess. What had became of them, Salima did not know. She had gathered as many of the Novices she could, and fled the Tower, fighting for their lives, before seeing them safe on a ship out of Carthan. Then, she had turned the remainer of her attention towards the city. Salima could remember that time, when she had unsuccessfully tried to fight her way through the city towards the Council. Her beloved novices were still in the buildings, trapped, surrounded. She had nearly been captured as a result. She had barely gotten away, even after she had summoned that windstorm that had swept up enough dust to cover the whole lot of them with dirt and grime, the undead were unaffected, ever coming after her, until she had had no choice but to fly, so that they would lose her scent. Kirthan, Mirash, all of you. She thought of those Novices sadly, still trapped, unable to get out. I have failed you. |
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| Salima Tyhar | Oct 20 2009, 11:40 PM Post #12 |
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Newbie
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Salima had sat down dejectedly on the pavements, out of sight from any zombies, or so she hoped, when she felt magic going. Magic that was powerful enough for her to sense. Standing up, she caught a blast of bright light. There was a mage there. Of light. She knew several people who could wield the forces of light in the mage council. But this flare had some sort of signature that she recognized. She was old, and had lived long enough to recognize the magic of many mages. They always had some sort of signature mark they left behind. As the light faded, she put a hand to her temples and sent her magic out, in a probe of some sort, until it came to rest on a well of magic, somewhat depleted. Immediately, her eyes flew open. She had not recognized the magic. This wasn't a mage that she recognized. It seemed as though the Council would have had a new novice, had this person come to enlist a few days ago. Salima's eyes darkened as she remembered. The novices were all gone. Moved to where? Salima did not know. But she was determined to find out. Eventually. First thing was to get the lot of the zombies and the vampires out of the city. However, Salima was only one mage. There were far too many of the undead and vampires lurking around for her to go off attacking on her own. She would be killed, and no one the wiser. The best chance she had was to find others who had survived. The mage she had discovered would be the start. Suddenly, she noticed a foul blackness seeping around her. Looking around, she had to mask shock as she discovered that she had been surrounded a pack of the undead. Their jaws opened wide and saliva drooled as they looked at her hungry. Immediately, despite the risk of discovery, Salima drew upon her magic. With a yell, she released it, expecting immediate results, her eyes flashing from blue to pure white, glowing with power, they were. She got them. Immediately. With a roar, the winds rose and surrounded her, throwing those who had lunged at her, back upon their behinds. The rest lunged, and she started swinging her arms around in throwing motions. Blasts of air struck them, some in their stomachs, some suffered instant concussion as they were hit heavily on the head with a crack. Dust stirred and electricity crackled. Salima however, had no time to worry about the aftereffects of tampering with the weather. She had to get out of here fast, and had to move quickly, or risk more ... unwanted attention. Drawing on as much as she could while leaving some in reserve, she clenched her fists and summoned all the winds within her magical reach as her eyes shone brighter and brighter, as far as she possibly could, without exhausting herself. They answered. Streaming in from all over the city, Salima focused her will, and they sped around her as she used all the powers of concentration at her disposal. They joined her wind shield, but they had a different, more useful purpose. Sighing in satisfaction as she felt herself being lifted up into the air, she rose above the buildings, electricity and static sparking around her as she flew, as fast as the winds would allow her, towards the harbour, where she had seen that flare of light. The winds streamed past her, as below, on the streets, the undead streamed along, desperately trying to keep up. But she outstripped them easily. Towards the harbour she flew, towards a ship where the light mage was. Hopefully she was still where she had been a moment before. Lightning crackled in the sky and played around her hair and her dress as she zoomed towards the spot like an arrow from its bow. Finally she reached her destination. She hovered over the spot where the magic must have been emmitted, and she looked around, and gently touched down. Salima then lowered herself down onto the ground and strode purposefully nearer towards the ships, towards a man who was carrying a young woman who could be not much older than 20. |
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1:08 PM Nov 23
