As the title suggests, feel free to RP it up.
Sun Aug 04, 2013 6:16 pm
- Not Done Yet...
Deacon prayed, hoping for answers, and in way he got them. Another door opened as two more joined the fray. One was a mage cloaked in living shadows, an odd sight to be sure. But the other, it was Isador Strauss! Why the hell was he
here? He had known the man since he joined the Order. Hell, he taught Deacon half of what he knows. Strauss spoke for a moment before joining Deacon at the altar. Deacon spoke just one word. "Strauss..."
Everyone in the room began speaking of a plan to fight, or retreat. At that moment, received another visitor. The Darkspawn Deacon had previously fought came in through a window in front of him. Deacon barely flinched at his entrance, but heard the mage that healed him call it "Zha'Gren". Nice to have a name to go with the face... or mask.
Plans continued to come together, while the mage cast a spell on the group. Deacon could feel the fatigue and pain leave his body, while in its place he felt his strength increase. Finally, the Warden-Commander laid out an official plan for them. Two teams, one distracts and holds off the hordes, while the other assists in evacuations. She gave special orders to Zha'Gren, who wasted no time informing everyone of the secret passage within the castle, before leaving to engage his former brethren. "Something tells me he'll be having more fun than the rest of us."
Deacon turned to face his new allies, Valmyria in particular. "As for me, I shall assist the tunnel team. I'm afraid I'd merely hold you back, my lady."
He smiled at them, as his confidence was restored. "Anyways, I know it's a bad time for introductions, but knowing each other's names couldn't hurt. I am Deacon Reinhardt, I suppose that you could call me an Ex-Templar." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBamE129P84
Deacon steeled himself for what was to come, before looking at the Black Axe. Isador seemed ready to move out, as Deacon put his hand on his shoulder. "Strauss, it's been quite some time. Try not to die out there, would you?"
Last edited by Sigmas
on Wed Aug 07, 2013 9:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Sun Aug 04, 2013 7:04 pm
Valmyria Windstrider - Redcliffe Castle: War, with all its glory and horror.
Val watched as Zha slide out through the window with... she didn't know what, envy or was it loathing for the fact that she had to go out there too. Val grimaced slightly as she felt the connection she now had with Airi and regretted that such a move had to have been made. She knew she was going to have to go out there and loose control to this thing on her hand. Val looked at it and played with it, flexing and testing it experimentally as she considered the future, the possibly very short future. This thing was influencing her. She didn't know how or what it was, but she was going to have to use it... let it use her for the time being. The regret she felt for what she did to the man was fading rapidly, being consumed by the thing.
"Airi... I'm sorry," said the Warden-Commander as she looked out the window. "I want you to promise me that if the strain becomes too great, to end it. My life was made forfeit the day I became a Warden. You do not need to suffer or die for me." She looked back at Deacon and smiled, the crazy bloodlust back in her eyes. "He won't be having as much fun as me."
Without another word, the bloodied ranger ran and leaped through the window, disappearing from view as well.
Val landed with a thud on the cobblestone of the courtyard. she looked around for Zha'Ghren, but couldn't tell where he went. The emotions came flooding back into her almost immediately as she no longer felt anything hold back, she wasn't holding herself back anymore to be more specific. Again the euphoria came back. It was sweet like honey, and it felt so good. Rage boiled to the surface again as well, but it was different this time, infused with a sense of duty and purpose that acted like a harness over her; directing her where to go. The black gauntlet grew in size and now stretched up her arm nearly to her shoulder plates.
Valmyria started to laugh and giggled at the nightmares before her. The Darkspawn paused for a moment. they were curious at this and started to gather around. They were use to their victims screaming in horror or looking grim as they fought to survive. But here this bloodied and clearly not mentally well woman was laughing at them. "You all are so fucked," moaned Val.
She shot forth like an arrow.
Her first victims was a pair of Genlocks. He spear had impaled the first one and the second fell to the ground as her talons slashed its throat out. She spun around and blocked the blade of one of the bigger Hurlocks on the guantlet that now extended up her arm, nearly to the shoulder. It roared a challenge at her only for her to roar one right back at it. The talons burst through its center and it fell to its knees. Val brought her leg around and kicked it in the face. Before she moved any further, she found her sword, the Oathkeeper. Now armed with a more familar weapon and the spear, she jumped into the Horde and began her dance of death.
Valmyria moved with the speed and grace of a elegant dancer, but left death and carnage behind her. glory was the only word she could describe as she cut and stabbed her way through the horde. Sometimes four or five Darkspawn would gang up on her, but she would twist and turn, dodging and striking until she could kill. She had lost the spear early on, throwing it at a Genlock who thought to take aim at her with a crossbow. Now she hacked and slashed with the sword and her talons, the black blood of the nightmarish creatures coated her. She smiled, laughed, and moaned with pleasure with every Darkspawn that fell before her...
Sun Aug 04, 2013 11:02 pm
Vovin continued his silent observation as the plans were formed. As Zha Gren and subsequently Valmyria exited to the battlefield, Vovin simply watched them go. His quietness would be disconcerting to any in the room who new him. It did not suit the young man. Vovin's fists tightened to the point of nearly piercing the armor of his gloves. He could feel something through his connection to the Fade, to the dragon spirit. He could discern its feelings towards the Darkspawn. It was a complex swirl of raw emotion. On one hand, the creatures had elevated dragons to the status of gods, and such worship appealed to them. On the other, the dragon loathed the corruption that stole away its soul and essence. But a clear line of thought managed to pierce the Veil and merge with Vovin's.
The desire for battle.
Vovin once more looked to Marcus, the only person in the room that he was 100% sure of. "I will keep her safe...not that she needs my help." He stated with a grim snort. Then in one swift motion the Dragon Knight leaped onto the battlefield the same way that Valmyria had. He was met with a trail of bodies, various Darkspawn littering the ground. Vovin began to advance after Val, but the path she had cleaved through was already being filled in. Two Hurlock brought their swords towards him on either side, and a Genlock leaped at his face, small but vicious daggers in each hand. Right as the vile creatures were about to strike, a burst of orange-gold light blew them away. The Genlock ended up impaled on another Darkspawn's spear, while the two Hurlock's swiftly regained their footing. But when they returned to strike again, they hesitated briefly. With his whole body alight with a golden orange aura, the Dragon Knight drew his sword from his back and held it with both hands. The Hurlock snarled and then charged again.
Vovin simply swung the sword through the air at the Hurlock on his left, sending an orange "slash" into his body. The attack burned right through the creatures armor, revealing a diagonal swath of disgusting corrupted skin. Vovin batted the second's sword aside and brought his sword back to decapitate the hapless Darkspawn. The other came up behind him, but Vovin was much to fast. Spinning to parry, Vovin continued his twirl to impale the Hurlock from behind the knight's back, crouching slightly, and catching the creature in the gap he had created with his prior attack. From there, Vovin began to hack and slash his own path through the Darkspawn. Some fell to his sword, others to Surges or Fire Slashes. All the while Vovin kept his eye on Val, ready to assist in the unlikely event she became truly endangered. He felt a need to atone for his earlier conflict with the Warden Commander.
Fri Aug 09, 2013 7:30 am
Through the corridors
"It's settled then." Both hammers drawn, the fire flickering on the torches as the others quickly made way to the respective areas. One for offense, the other for a surprise assault using the corridors. Everything would depend on the luck the group had in cutting through the inner areas of the castle, but thankfully it was neither very far or very cramped. The things came OUT of the dungeons and rooms, chances are the ones inside were small in number.
Wood and metal splintered and exploded as Marcus booted in a door leading into the hallways connecting to the church. Only a small amount of light remained, but thankfully it was not terribly dark but the sound of fighting was very clear. The group took off in a run, weapons drawn and ready for battle with anything that might be in the way.
Marcus and anyone in heavy armor were leading the way forward, those in lighter armor such as leather or with a mismatch of light and heavy were in the middle of the group protecting those with robes or light cloth armor.
In a large assembly hall they found battle. A group of both Teryn soldiers and the Arls wounded soldiers, houseguards, and even servants, were holed up and fighting the creatures trying to invade through the windows and the door. The massive table had been overturned, bodies lay atop it and around it, as it blocked the main doorway into the area enough to create a choke-point for the things crawling over it. Others had desks or chairs piled up in the windows that was barely contained the flow of monsters rushing over them to enter the fray, but it was enough to prevent the hell monsters from completely swarming the survivors. Marcus roared and entered the fray.
Two swings of either hammer had a Darkspawn weapon broken and a skull crushed in, the screams of the survivors turning to a cheer at the unexpected reinforcements. Clearly the threat of annihalation had made the Teryns men a little unsteady on the loyalty. Amidst the throng of combat, he shouted out. "Retreat to the halls! Make for the Throne Room!"
The groups survivors broke off their combat to follow orders while the others pushed the darkspawn to the doorway to clear a better path, even with the reinforcements it was clear that the Darkspawn threat was to many for a victory. "Fall back! Fall back!"
Steel clashed and shrieked against metal as the fighting continued. All at once he broke away from the doorways and into the hallway and stayed at the entrance to the long hall leading to the guests rooms. As the final survivors trickled in past him, Marcus swung at the top of the doorway with all the strength in his arms.
The doorway was sealed by the debree as the weak stone quickly fell apart in a cloud of dust and stone.
Still no time to even recover. "Keep going. We have to clear this area and move on. Anyone still in shape to pick a fight, spread out to the rooms and save anyone either hiding or trying not to get killed. Everyone else, stick with me. If you fall behind you will be abandoned. Meet at the entrance to the courtyard and wait for the signal. If we're lucky, Val and that thing will give us a chance to come from a decisive angle for the most damage to these freaks."
The blacksmith placed one of his hammers back on his belt loop, reaching up to readjust his pipe and add a pinch more of the tobacco. -------------------------------------
Ambushing the Throne Room
Everyone was in place, the room was clear and the windows leading in had been covered and braced by the waiting crew, ready to pour out at a moments notice in any way they could. For now, it was all they could do to hold on and wait it out. The Darkspawn outside couldn't get into the throne room, thankfully, and the ambush team had fortified the area enough to prevent the creatures from getting in and attacking the rest of this wing. That didn't mean they stopped trying.
The things banged and scraped at the wood and stone, trying to push it out of the way but failing to get enough weight to bully out the ones holding the makeshift barricades in place. Even their weapons did little to the hard oak tables and the sturdy brass-bound door, barred by a tremendous piece of wood longer than Marcus was tall. An order for complete quiet had gone out with a simple hand gesture to anyone returning from securing the corridors, and another few people had taken up a position at the rear incase anything got past the crumbled remains of the door from earlier. A few creatures had somehow straggled in, but were either cut down when they ventured to far or lost interest and went back the way they'd come.
Now it was time to wait. Smoke drifted lazily from his pipe, as the old blacksmith tried to look as calm as he could despite the circumstance. Marcus prayed Vovin would be safe amidst the dark tide looming over this place.
Zha'Gren leapt out of the shadows in a ferocious rush, his trident had been put back into its place on his back, he was fighting in the open and wanted to have full control over his fighting style but had been out of options earlier. His scimitar had been dropped in the wall collapse after his fight with the stone man, his daggers had all been used up and many not reclaimed, so that left the hunter with little options left. Thankfully the gods were merciful in his plight and he'd stumbled across a scene of carnage.
Bodies of Darkspawn and human alike were littered about the place but two corpses took his eye. A human in finely crafted armor, shining silver with gold designs etched into the plate, and a Darkspawn warrior in dark plate armor with jagged edges and deadly spikes that glistened with blood. They each wielded a weapon that, from what Zha could tell, had dealt the finishing blow to each other. It had been a climactic moment nobody would remember or repeat, but the hunter had other plans.
In his left hand he wielded a 4 foot long Sword
with a razor edge, likely magical, and weighed seemingly nothing.
In his right hand he had liberated the deadly Axe
that had been wielded by the Darkspawn warrior.
With relentless ease he put the weapons to work on his target. The emissary shouted something that turned to a bloody gurgle as the golden sword nearly took the creatures head clean off in a backhand slash, while the axe delivered a cleaving chop from shoulder to stomach through a confused Darkspawn.
Both weapons refused to let the filthy blood stain their gleaming edge as Zha'Gren leapt into the throng of enemies below, receiving a few cuts on his arms and legs as his kin swung at the betrayer. Within moments he had joined up with the assault team. The hunter let loose a blood-curdling roar as he leapt past Vovin to land in a tight roll behind the enraged Valmyria and fell into step behind her.
It was as if a whirlwind had erupted amidst the horde.
As Valmyria ducked under a slash from an enemy, Zha'Grens sword or axe came in hard and quick to swat it away while Val quickly took the place formely occupied by her ally. The creatures barely had enough time to register to change in target or assailant as the new threat tore the life from them in the confusion of it all. Back to back they worked.
Zha went down to one knee and slashed at an enemies knees, Valmyria rolling across his back to land a devastating kick and overhead slash before falling back into a comfortable attack routine, blocking anything aimed at Zha'Gren as he did likewise for her. Darkspawn knew no fear when it came to battle but it was clear they could learn quickly. Slowly but surely they lessened the assault on the deadly pair."Go!"
The hunter shouted, breaking the formation and rushing towards the far end of the courtyard, leading into the a large and open area just before the Arl's throne room. The sight ahead almost made him shiver.--------------------------------
Outside the kings throne
In the open area stood a monstrous Ogre covered in vicious armor, gleaming with the wet blood of man and monster alike, roaring to the heavens as it snarled at the defenders cowering inside the throne room. Likely the monstrous brute had followed the sound of battle and had just joined the fray, otherwise it could well have been inside the throne already with a swipe of those monstrous arms.
Zha'Gren crouched into a ready stance, both weapons at the ready, as the towering monstrosity finally turned around to stare at him and the others following close behind. Zha looked at Val and whispered briefly, "Is this the signal?"
Fri Aug 09, 2013 1:30 pm
Deacon Reinhardt - Damsel in Distress
Before Isador could respond, the one leading the evacuation team began moving, while the others followed suit. Deacon moved in the middle of the group, keeping the less protected members safe. In one of the assembly halls, the group found survivors from both sides fighting against the horde. While the hammer-wielder engaged a larger group, Deacon moved to the side and engaged a pair of Hurlocks. While a lightning-quick strike he decapitated the first, before using the momentum to slash at the second, cutting the beast in half from shoulder to waist. The leader then ordered them to retreat to the Throne Room, and Deacon moved to regroup with the others, cutting down several Darkspawn on the way. With the Throne Room seemingly clear, the hammer-wielder ordered those capable to spread out and look for more survivors.
Deacon began moving through the halls, making sure as to not get lost. Rounding a corner, he heard the sound of a child crying. He rushed to a nearby door to find the child, a young girl, crying in the corner... with another Hurlock slowly approaching her. It stared at the child, before raising it's axe to strike. Deacon used the speed granting by the mage to rush in, grabbing the horrid creature's head and slamming it into a wall, before shoving his dagger into its skull. The body dropped, and he approached the child, who was a mere toddler. She was clearly frightened beyond belief, but thankfully was aware that he was a friend.
He had to get her out of there, so he spoke to her as kindly as possible. "Come with me, child. I'll get you out of here." She didn't seem to want to move from that spot. "T-They'w get me if I moof...", she said as tears ran down her small face. Deacon thought hard, then spoke again. "Don't worry, I'll protect you. Now listen to me, child. Do not listen anything else, do not look at anything else. Keep all of your focus on me, understand?" The child wiped her eyes clean and complied, so he lifted her up to his left shoulder, her arms around his neck. Deacon wasted no time returning to the rendezvous point, using his enhanced speed to quickly go back the way he came in.
As the survivors motioned him and the other groups in, a group of three Darkspawn rushed in from the hallway behind him. He couldn't fight them in standard combat while protecting the child, so he began to focus. "Hang on tight." Spinning his body to build momentum, while taking care not to drop the girl, he let out a Sonic Slash. The air resonated to form a reverberating blade of sound and space that moved down the hall, capable of cleaving through whatever it may touch. Anyone with half a brain would notice the attack, however dodging it would be another matter. The Darkspawn proved their stupidity as they completely ignored it, the three of them being sliced cleanly in half. Deacon and the other groups entered the room with the hammer-wielder motioning for their silence, which Deacon replied to with a nod. He lowered the child from his shoulder, and asked for her to be quiet with a finger over his lips. The young one nodded with a smile and hugged him, before he led her to a bench on the side of the room. Deacon then returned to the group, patiently awaiting his next order. The magic that his new ally possessed was truly impressive. Deacon was usually exhausted after using that technique, but he could already feel the fatigue fading and his strength returning. He would likely be able to use the attack again soon, should the need arise.
Fri Aug 16, 2013 10:23 pm
Valmyria Windstrider - Redcliffe Castle: Outside the throne room.
The Warden Commander hissed at the sight of the armored giant. The normal ones were a pain in the ass to take out. A single very skilled warrior could in theory do it in a head to head match, but usually it took at least a unit of four to take them out. A fully armored larger and a larger one wasn't going to be any better. She'd heard the legends from the Legion of the Dead about these walking towers, but never really believed them about it; never wanted to believe them about it.
But looks like ignorance wasn't going to be bliss today.
The Darkspawn clearly haven't made it in through the front door, but there were a lot of passages and halls in the castle. They could have gotten in through another way. Then there was still the Teryn's men to deal with. They could have killed the Arl during the first attack. Without him, any chances of forming a resistance or assaulting Highever was very slim. This ogre though had to be dealt with as well if they wanted any good chances of getting survivors out of the castle.
The good news was that the area was still under some construction, or remodeling, she couldn't tell. But the place had scaffolds, wagons, tools, equipment, even a crane to hoist materials up to the high levels. Things they could use to give them a edge over the Darkspawn giant. The walls were mostly done, but she noticed something behind the ogre.
The Commander made her decision. They had to make sure the Arl was still alive. Hopefully this would signal anyone still alive to attack with them.
"Take it down. I'm going after the Arl," she ordered and then took off without waiting for a reply. Valmyria was heading in a direct frontal assault against the ogre. The monster roared at the new challenger and rushed forward. The two meet near the center of the area. The darkspawn brought its arms down in an attempt to crush the elf, but was rewarded with a large cloud of debris as the extended platting on its arm caught a nearby wagon full of scrapes and clean up from the construction. It however, thought it had nailed the puny creature despite the incident and roared in surprised when it raised its arms and didn't see a delightful red mess.
The ogre bellowed once again in frustration and turned around looking everywhere for its prey...
In truth, the Warden Commander dived underneath the beast and continued to the door. To the side of it was a small window, not big enough to allow a Darkspawn or a human in armor to pass through, but big enough for an athletic elf to sail right through.
At least, she hoped so.
Luck was on her side at that moment, and she cleared the window without a problem. She rolled up to her feet, talons and sword out ready to strike.
Only to find nothing. Val lowered her weapons in confusion. It wasn't the throne room, it was what looked like an entry way with four doors on each of the sides leading up to another set of double doors. The door next to her that lead outside had three heavy iron enforced bars crossing the front of it. But other than that there appeared to be no disturbances. The pictures hung straight on the wall, it was clean, there was even fresh flowers in the vase on a table.
"Dammit... Not even in the mood anymore," she muttered as she walked over to the other set of doors and pushed against them...
Sat Aug 17, 2013 3:56 pm
Isador was focused on the darkspawn horde he was about to face as Deacon spoke to him. Despite his hardest attempt to recall, Strauss could not seem to remember where he knew this man from. Before he could respond Deacon joined the escape team and headed off. He lingered on the out of reach memories, trying to recall who Deacon Reinhardt was but it remained as elusive as smoke. His attention was brought back to the darkspawn as the rest of his team dove in to the thick of battle before him. The horde looked endless, but Isador felt calm, at peace for the first time in years. At least on the inside. He ducked down instinctively as a darkspawn arrow nearly took him in the head. Without pause Isador lunged in to the fray, splitting a genlock’s skull open, yanking it back out just in time to block an incoming sword to his right and shearing off the wielders arm at the elbow with a counterstrike.
Isador had never fought the darkspawn before, and he was not let down from the terrifying stories he had been told. Their ferocity was nothing he had faced in battle, no motive other then destruction, driven forward like a stampede. With the magical aid of the warden-mage Isador took a deep, strong breath with renewed vigor. “I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the fade.” He said, voicing booming with strength as he began to swing his axe is sweeping arcs, never ceasing its momentum, cleaving off sword arms and gunlock heads alike. “For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Makers light.” The Canticle was one Isador knew by heart, one memory the lyrium could not take from him. He chanted the makers word among the flood of death and corruption washing over the group. “AND NOTHING THAT HE HAS WROUGHT SHALL BE LOST!” He shouted as he decapitated yet another Hurlock as it attacked.
Isador repeated the Canticle of Trials with each slash, parry, counter and sweep. The strength in his voice never faltered, even while combating three Hurlock’s at once. He felled all three, with a gash in his thigh to show for it. Isador stopped reciting the Canticle to inhale deeply, Devouring the essence of all the dead around him. The gash in his leg healed completely with the additional aid of the mages spells. “FEEL YOUR SINS!” Isador shouted as he activated his Aura of Pain, only this time something had changed. Perhaps it was due to his newfound clarity or maybe a fluke, but this time the Aura only seemed to harm the darkspawn instead of Isador’s allies. For every wound he received, Isador brought down four Darkspawn. Every time one of those monsters landed a blow, they always seemed to flinch and feel the pain they just inflicted on others, giving the Black Axe enough time take off the arm that harmed him. Despite his advantage from Devour and the mage’s spells, Isador knew this was but a trickle of the horde but he had no desire to flee until the others were safe. How many people had he killed after leaving the Templar’s? How much blood had he spilled simply for the hell of it? No more, he would redeem himself, and the Order one day, but this was penance for his years of carnage. His blood would be spilled this day, for those who could not fight themselves, to make right what he had done while wandering astray. The Teryn may have brought about this despicable trap, but it was the Maker that had brought the Black Axe to fight the darkness in himself, and of the Darkspawn horde.
Sun Aug 18, 2013 10:32 am
Akin to his allies, Vovin was a maelstrom on the battlefield. His fiery aura made him shine like a beacon as he cut a swath through the Darkspawn that swarmed before him. A beacon that would not be ignored, as more and more of the surrounding creatures took notice of the Spirit Warrior and turned to engage him. Wielding his sword with far greater speed than the weight should have allowed, Vovin cleaved Genlocks in half and impaled Hurlocks, their dying cries saturated with fury and hate for the human that had slain them. All the while Vovin was keeping an eye on Valmyria. When she exited the battlefield through a small window, one that it seemed none but her could fit through, Vovin smiled. Now he could dedicate all of his focus to one thing: the extermination of his foes.
Vovin spun his blade, clearing a small swath around him and giving him a few seconds to gather his focus. The young warrior's eyes shut as he beckoned the Old God to lend him more of its strength. He felt power flow into his body as the dragon spirit complied. Vovin's eyes shot open, the same orange glow that had been surrounding his body now shone from his eyes as well. With a roar that echoed a deep, inhuman undertone, Vovin seemed to explode. A shock-wave of energy and light blew away the Darkspawn closest to him, and knocked over the ones that were a little further away. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
The Dragon Knight screamed as he shot forward. This was the most power he had ever channeled from the dragon, and it was reflected in his appearance. Wicked spiritual claws seemed to overlay his already sharp gauntlets. Majestic wings of orange light spread out from his back and beat the air as he swung his sword. Occasionally a tail of spiritual energy would flicker into existence from his tailbone before just as quickly disappearing. But the most intimidating aspect was the ghostly dragon head that had formed around the Spirit Warrior's face. (Looks kinda like this
but orange and all spectral and stuff.) Vovin roared as he fought and a dragon's bellow seemed to echo underneath his voice. Normally this level of Beyond the Veil would only last a few precious moments, but Vovin could feel Laenolin's buffs restore his energy almost as quickly as he lost it.
Remembering Val's orders right before she had departed, Vovin batted away a Hurlock before shouting "Isador! Zha'Gren! Our Commander has given us an order. I think we should follow it!"
. Vovin suddenly dashed forward, slicing through the ever increasing number of Darkspawn that were being attracted to his location. But he had a target now. The armored ogre had just turned to face the shining warrior, and it bellowed its challenge. Vovin roared right back at it before bringing his sword in a mighty overhead swing. The flickering energy that coated the blade distended as it shot off of the weapon and flew straight into the ogre's protected chest. The creature roared as a vertical tear appeared in his armor and left a minor burn on its now more exposed torso. It seemed shocked that an attack like that had gone through its armor. With another battle cry, Vovin continued to close the distance between him and the beast, hoping to combine his strength with this allies to take it down.
Sun Aug 18, 2013 2:19 pm
Deacon Reinhardt - Patience is a Virtue
As they waited for their chance to move, Deacon helped comfort some of the more distressed survivors. He was amazed at the number of the Teryn's men who were now their "allies" due to circumstance. His own anger rose at the thought of one who would consider these men nothing more than mere tools for a goal. No matter, his place was with these people. He would not allow anymore senseless death. He calmed himself before looking to the team's established leader. Among the hammers on his belt, he could tell one was used in blacksmithing. But something else had crossed his mind.
Approaching the man, who calmly smoked a pipe, Deacon made his query. "Why are you helping us? You were among the Teryn's forces, yet you gave aid to us so readily. Your alliance with us is not as forced as the rest of these men." He turned his head to the men who the Teryn had left behind, before returning his attention to the conversation. "Who are you? Can I trust you to be the ally you claim to be?"
During the talk, his attention shifted to the various roars and battle cries of both friend and foe out in the courtyard. "How much longer...?" As he spoke, the child he had rescued tugged on his arm. He knelt down to look at her as she held out something in her hand. It was a bracelet, made of various beads. Attached to it was a symbol, one he didn't recognize. "What's this?" The child smiled. "My daddy made it fo' me. It'w kee' you safe." He returned the child's smile with his own, taking her offering. "Thank you, child. Now, go back with the others, okay?" With a quick nod, she complied, while Deacon returned to the team, putting the bracelet on his wrist.
Mon Aug 19, 2013 11:06 am
~Flying, High Above the Highlands~
A large shadow suddenly flew out over a portion of the horde and the field. It flowed smoothly across the unconcerned Darkspawn, steadily heading for Vovin, Zha'Gren and the Armored Ogre. The shadow finally reached the group before beginning to actually grow even larger. If either of the two looked up, they would suddenly have cause to not get too close to the armored foe just yet. Very loudly, the headless corpse of another, less armored ogre crashed down over the towering beast.
Meanwhile, behind them all, Darkspawn were flying up into the air. Equal measure of chunks and remains rained over the area as a large gap was formed into the horde. A glance back would show Arvashok. His eyes were, as always, hidden under the shade of his brow. He let out a soft exhale and slowly looked up the mass of the Armored Ogre. Where his lesser brethren had proven just a pale mockery to the Qunari, this one had potential. Arvashok slowly brought his axe-sword forth, once again taking it within both of his hands. He rushed forward, a trail of gold flowing behind as the aura from Zaenolin's earlier magic grew brighter, showing its effort to boost the Qunari as he practically flew across the field to close the distance toward him and the others.
Mon Aug 19, 2013 8:35 pm
The Orzammar Trail - Zasalim and Teelo.
"Well, well, what have we here?" said a feminine voice. It seemed to of come out of no where on the two travelers, and indeed it might as well have. "A lost elf and clueless boy."
Ahead of the duo stood a figure from which the voice had come from the long red traveling cloak hid any features of the woman. The hood itself seemed to shift light away from it, hiding the face entirely. Around the woman's shoulders though was a mantle of curious workmanship. It was steel but decorated richly with gold, and ringed with black raven feathers. In the very center of the mantle, near the neck was a large red gemstone.
"I would not worry about your allies, tis little you or I could do for them at this time," she continued, some how knowing the thoughts of the elven mage. "Tis your own path that I would be more... concerned with. It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."
Wed Aug 21, 2013 7:52 am
- The Orzammar Trail -
Zasalim's ears twitched a bit when the hooded witch began to speak to the pair of mages traveling through the woods. He tightened the grip on his enchanted pole arm slightly as his stride soon came to a stop. He looked the figure over, taking notice of the long red cloak and the hood which seemed to hold a portal into the abyss rather than a face. The gold embroidery, raven feathers, and large red gemstone told him this was a person or mage of status and powerful enough to walk the road without fear of danger or ridicule.
"Lost? Far from it. I may be a long ways from home but I know the path I walk" He uttered back. She then unnerved him a bit by speaking on the events unfolding in Redcliffe. "True, but dangerous as it is, what do you know of the path I tread? We live in a dangerous world and are teetering on the edge of chaos. Peace has had it's reign and Fereldan will know despair once more. It's a feeling in my gut that I can't seem to get rid of. Never the less only those too weak to survive allow fear to paralyze their steps" he said hoping for a reply.
Wed Aug 21, 2013 3:41 pm
Sigment Kurosai wrote:Approaching the man, who calmly smoked a pipe, Deacon made his query. "Why are you helping us? You were among the Teryn's forces, yet you gave aid to us so readily. Your alliance with us is not as forced as the rest of these men." He turned his head to the men who the Teryn had left behind, before returning his attention to the conversation. "Who are you? Can I trust you to be the ally you claim to be?"
Marcus stood for a moment looking over the young, obviously former, templar with a mix of different emotions from curiosity to simple confidence. A sharp mind asked sharp questions, so a cautious man asked enough to get a feel for betrayal. Judging from the Ex in his title it was obvious he was used to betrayal, so it was up to the steel smith to set right an injustice even as he continued to take a long puff of his pipe, the embers inside were bright red and revealed the dangerous eyes hidden by the hood.
The smoke exhaled was sweeter than most smells or smoke tended to be, just the right amount to calm even the more paranoid of individuals with the very perfection it had to it. "I help because I never chose a side until now. Until my apprentice learned a lesson from this silly little excuse for a battle. We fight because it is a mercenary's job to fight for coin or belief, so for some gathered here it is that will to survive and to overcome to betrayal of a former employer."
Marcus' head shifted ever so slightly to view Isador. "Some have changed sides for a righteous cause, beyond the orders of right and wrong from a superior."
The gaze fell back to Deacon. "Others fight because it is the right thing to do. They fight what is wrong, or truly injust."
Another long inhale from his pipe lit up his eyes, showing the determination and steeled nerves of a true veteran to war. "You can trust another man so long as you fight a common cause. A common enemy. Our cause now is to remove the corruption of a man in power, and an enemy is his minions who fought both sides like a plague. I ask you now, Deacon Reinhardt, Who better to trust than the elderly?"
His stern gaze turned back to the windows.
As soon as Val gave the signal, though honestly none was really established beforehand, the whole wall seemed to explode with soldiers, including the folks who went from the chapel. As a swarm they rushed out of hiding to repel the monsters before them, inspired by each other to push for more glory amidst the chaos. Marcus didn't fight for glory, nor did he fight for the soldiers who would die here, instead he fought for himself and the future of Vovin.
There was nothing right now that could stop the old smith from his task.
Or so he thought.
Taking down an ogre was impressive. Throwing an ogre AT an ogre was nothing short of breathtaking, and breathtaking it was as the limp body slammed into the ogre to fall heavily upon the cobblestones. Arvashok strode purposely forward hefting his sword axe. It was all to clear where Marcus should be in the fight at that moment.
Around his body took hold the great and ancient flames of the elemental spirit he had bonded with, its flames were dark red and orange, giving the Weaponsmith the look of a daemon made reality. Great hammer in hand, he strode forward through the fight with tremendous swings of his hammer clearing a wide path, flinging the lesser creatures aside like leaves in the wind, until finally he was standing almost next to Arvashok.
If the armored ogre attacked, it would meet very heavy resistance indeed.
Thu Aug 22, 2013 4:02 pm
Deacon Reinhardt - Giving It Everything
"Fair enough." This man was a curious one. Though he had answered his questions in a way that let him trust the man, Deacon felt there was more that had yet to be said. It bothered him that the man could read him so easily. No matter, it was time to move. All who were inside charged outward to engage the Darkspawn. On his way out, Deacon ran his sword through two opponents, then decapitated a third. At that moment, the ground shook as one dead Ogre landed on its living brother. Deacon looked up to see a Qunari warrior, the one responsible. "Damn..."
A Darkspawn Hurlock attempted a strike, believing him distracted. Deacon grabbed it's skull running forward before leaping towards a large group. In the air, the bracelet on his arm resonated, seemingly reacting to the presence of the Darkspawn in his grasp. Deacon slammed the Hurlock into the ground amongst the group, and something unexpected happened. An explosion of light grew from the point of impact, burning the group in a blue flame. The Hurlock in its center was nothing but ash. Deacon stood up, amazed at the strength of his own attack. He looked to the bracelet, the light fading back into its symbol. "Thank you, child."
He then heard a familiar scream, and rushed to it. This time, she was hiding under rubble, with the Darkspawn reaching for her. Deacon sent his sword through its skull, tossing it towards a group approaching Isador. "Heads up, Strauss!", he said as he saw the corpse collide with its brethren. He offered his hand to the child, who once again got on his shoulder. He charged forward cutting down many a Darkspawn, making his way through the courtyard. On his right, he saw civilians trapped by more Hurlocks. Sending a Sonic Slash forward to remove them, he yelled to the survivors. "Go! Get out of there!"
His attacks had drawn more opponents to him, but he couldn't engage all of them with the child. He needed help to get her to safety, and he got it. A group of Redcliffe guards engaged the group. One of the guards just so happened to be the one he had helped earlier. "We'll keep them busy! Get moving!" He wasted no time moving to the entrance of their escape route, clearing out those in the way. He moved the child to some rubble she could hide behind, while Deacon stood his ground. The route would be ready for those who needed it. He would make sure of that.
Fri Aug 23, 2013 10:12 pm
The Orzammar Trail - Zasalim and Teelo
"Indeed," replied the female with a chuckle, clearly amused with the elf's statements. "So you know your path, but where does it end, I wonder."
The woman stepped onto the trail, momentarily blocking the two from continuing on. "There are many things I know, Zasalim," she said with a very serious tone. "I know you are an artist, a visionary, but also quite and ruthless when it comes to your own goals. I know you are conflicted, worried about the future... The future of your people. They are in conflict, threatened with genocide from the Dalish, but also conflict within over dark secrets. Power and legacy built on a foundation of blood. I know what might be your fate and that of your people if the darkness wins. But the most important thing you need to know and understand is that not everything is as it seems. The game has changed."
The woman turned and began walking down the trail towards Orzammar. "Come. you still have quite a distance to cover if you are going to get those "Dwarves" to help."
REDCLIFFE - OUTSIDE THE THRONE ROOM
The attacks had hurt the beast, but not as much as they had thought. They annoyed it, ,little insect things dare touch him, dare attack him. Little elf woman gone, but others here instead. He play with them instead.
The orge shoved its dead brother off of him and chucked the body towards Vovin, nailing the Dragon Knight.
With an angry roar it surged forward and backhanded Marcus and Arvashok. The blow sent to two hurtling into some scaffolding and the ogre stomped its feet with joy.
Some more of its Darkspawn brethren joined the battle; a few Emissaries and Sheriks.
Valmyria Windstrider - Redcliffe Castle w/ the Arl.
Val felt the magic coming from the door. A simple but powerful spell if done right. Blood mages would use it all the time to seal certain rooms off in places where they took residence. Variations would make the door disappear entirely. Such a spell was impossible to detect as a Templar since they relied more on countering offensive magic and not so much hidden traps and defensive magic. Rangers on the other hand were trained to spy and hunt their prey. Trained to detect magics.
Telling spells apart was a different story though.
Val reached her armored hand up and laid it gentle on the door, eyes closed in concentration. All she had to do was find the "thread" of the spell, where the mage left off from the casting. Usually its tucked up somewhere, hidden to prevent things like she was about to do.
There. Using her own magic-countering skills, Val pulled the spell in on itself. This would cause it to defend and seal itself instead of the target it worked on. Once the spell was down, the elf pushed the doors right open and walked in.
"Arl Hailstrom, we nee-" the elf was immediately silenced by the sudden appearance of several spears at her neck as she walked into the throne room. "Put those down before you hurt yourself." she hissed as she pushed one of the spears away and walked further into the room.
The throne room was a "mess". The battle with the Teryn's men hadn't reached this far into the castle complex. It appeared the Darkspawn hadn't yet either. But the room was being torn apart to fortify the location and it seemed like they already had a number of wounded with them as well. Doors and windows were fortified and a mage with his mouth hanging open looked at the elf in amazement that she had simply walked in.
Val turned to the direction of the voice and found the Arl staring at her. He was adorned in the traditional red armor that that Arl's in the past had been so well known for in battle. A sword hung by his side and a shield was secured across his back.
"Commander," he said with awe and concern. "You look like shit. What happened?"
The Warden looked down at herself. She was covered in blood, human and darkspawn. the weapons in her hands didn't look any better. Her clothes hung about her in tatters and what was left of her armor was scarred and dented. Suddenly self conscious, Valmyria reached for her hood and pulled it up over her head.
Val opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted from another voice behind the Arl.
"My Lady? Are you alright?" asked her captain, a look of worry and concern over her face.
"Never been better," she said automatically. Val thought on the phrase for a moment. The power this thing was giving her, the feelings, all of it was so sweet but scarred her at the same time. "Look, we can talk later, for now we need to get the hell out of here. Any escape routes out of the castle?"
"Yes," confirmed the Arl, determination sweeping his face. "There is a passage through the tunnels we can take, but the Darkspawn need to be cleared out so we can safely move people."
"MY LORD, THEY ARE ATTACK AG-"
The doors on the other side of the room burst open and the nightmares began to pour in...
Sat Aug 24, 2013 5:26 am
There wasn't a lot of things a solitary fighter could do alone, and even lose against a beast of that sheer size, so that meant one option left. Scout ahead. Even as Zha'gren began to run off, though everyone would assume it was for a reason beyond cowardice, he looked back with menace shimmering in his eyes towards the armored monstrosity that was the ogre. What a prize that would have made... Still, no time to lose as he approached some odd scaffolding along the walls, scaling the odds and ends of the construct like it was stairs and simply dashing off a few feet but was halted by something catching his eye. A large crossbow, loaded with a menacingly large metal bolt. Didn't take a genius to figure out a way to use it to help.
As the ogres arm crashed into the hammer guy and Arvashok, Zha'gren let fly with the bolt to abruptly end one overjoyed ogres victory stomping and change it to screams of rage and pain. The bolt struck the dumb brute square in one of its eyes. Amidst the roars and chaos drifted off the rogue Darkspawn, back to the lightless tunnels his brethren had so recently emerged from.
A short time later in the throne room rushed a great swarm of Darkspawn who had been led to the throne by a mysterious 'scout' dressed in peculiar clothing. Not at all the armor and plate of the others but of kinda leather with metal pieces around it, but he was fast and brutal. Killing off the former 'leader' and quickly asserting his dominance over the others with harsh beatings to the more aggressive Darkspawn eager for blood. They didn't know that the creatures were being herded like cattle to a slaughter, and thus freeing up the area they would have been ambushing from. Instead the pathway was clear for Valmyria and the Arl to escape.
As the swarm rushed into the room, Val would catch an odd sight indeed. In the back of the charging group stood that most peculiar of rogues, Golden sword and black battleaxe gleaming in the torchlight waving to her, telling her to push through and advance.
Marcus felt the wind explode from his lungs as the ogre all but flicked him and the Qun into the scaffolding and stone wall, the spikes on the ogres arms hadn't pierced Marcus' plating but it had torn it to shreds and caused more horrendous dents, rendering it both ineffective armor and all but scrap. Only the years of hard toil had likely saved the rest of his old body from shattering against the wall. A few bruises and maybe a broken rib, but sheer adrenaline kept his body on the go.
With a roar the blacksmith threw off the debree covering him, the ancient spirit he was attuned with let out its ancient call, a sound only other spirits could hear, a sound that could make even a dragon quake with sheer weight of age. More flames billowed out of Marcus at a dangerous rate, burning nothing but turning the deep red to a bright orange in its fury.
The beast howled from something above momentarily and gave the elderly blacksmith something to work with. Powered by rage and determination the Blacksmith charged forward to clear the distance quickly, his armor falling off in scraps and chunks to reveal just a plain shirt beneath. All of the power from his years of forging and war went into a single devastating overhead blow to collide with the Ogres knee. An attack infused with Marcus' soulbrand, rendering the thick plates upon the beast all but useless. Bone would snap if the creature was not nearly strong enough, tendons would be obliterated, and the muscle would be useless forever more.
He'd have no way of knowing till the great behemoth fell to tell if the blow had struck home perfectly
Sat Aug 24, 2013 9:28 am
Johnus Johnson -Redcliffe Castle:Rooftops.
"Two Verdants, a Moscraw, three Ambourgins, an original copy of Axtromitus's "The Fade and it's denizens"..." Johnus muttered as he stroked off works on what looked like a shopping list in one hand and rifled through a bag of rolled up paintings and books in another. Nice light things, easy to carry and slip away. Admittedly, 20% off due to damages from the packaging but still, better condition than they would be if left here. He took a puff from his pipe as he put away the list in the bag and began to pack up, ignoring the screams and cries of battle for now. Probably time to go if still possible. He'd immediately left him companions once he'd gone through the portal, first things to do was always to make sure he'd get something out of a job.
Johnus stood up on the rooftop and peered around, wondering where the best escape route would be. Geeze, lotta destruction going on. Darkspawn and fire, thunder and lightning. Great mixes to deal with. Courtyard was completely buggered from what he could see in the dark of the storm, so that's a no. Johnus hoped he wouldn't be stuck up here, thankfully in this weather favoured his skills at hiding.
Sat Aug 24, 2013 10:59 am
Arvashok easily saw the attack coming. The beast was strong, but its blows were wild and wide, making it very predictable. But the creature wouldn't learn if the Qunari simply evaded. Falling under the blow would easily have let him go unscathed. But he wanted to take something from this monster. He lowered his weapon with one hand, putting his left side forward to let his heaviest side of his armor accept the incoming damage. As the Ogre's large arm swung down upon he and Marcus, Arvashok's blade shot up.
Pool of blood was left were he had stood second ago. It wasn't his. Arvashok stood, shrugging off the debris and rubble. He glared at the Ogre, lightly grinning. He lifted his left arm up, hauling up a giant finger. The rocks cleared as he pulled the freshly severed ogre hand up. He roared and yelled with proud fury. Surely Zha'Gren would have enjoyed the sight of his fellow honor combatant claiming his trophy, but the darkspawn had wandered off already. Arvashok flung the hand forward to land near the Ogre's feet.
As Marcus went forward to deal his blow, Arvashok took the chance. He drew his weapon back in both hands, slowing his breath. The creature would likely be easily distracted and enraged. It was bound to act foolish. Arvashok swung forward and released a powerful shockwave from his blade that shot out toward the Ogre's chest. Even though it was armored, the armor was nothing but forgotten metal and shields, held together by ropes and wire at that. It wouldn't hold up against heavy hits from the likes of Marcus or Arvashok. The shockwave would easily split the chest armor apart and leave a wide slash across the beast's flesh.
Sun Aug 25, 2013 10:28 pm
Vovin ran at the armored ogre, noticing that his allies, Marcus included, had also begun to converge on the beast. Vovin smiled as he felt his confidence boost. Surely with all of them they would have no-
Flying ogre corpse.
Vovin's eyes barely had time to widen before the mammoth dead Darkspawn collided with him, knocking him off his feet. With dismay Vovin noticed that he was poised to have the body land on top of him when gravity caught up with the Dragon Knight. It did just that, and the young man felt the wind leave his lungs as the weight crushed down on him. Luckily his father had forged such strong armor, else Vovin may have suffered a broken rib cage in that moment. His luck continued as the corpse kept its momentum and rolled off of him, leaving the Dragon Knight splayed out on the courtyard floor. Vovin sat up quickly, a little too quickly actually. He winced at the pain in his chest, but knew that it was nothing serious. Rising to his feet, he could see that his allies were already three quarters of the way through with the creature. It was impaled through the eye, practically losing a leg thanks to Marcus, and Vovin was just in time to see Arvashok complete the work that Vovin had begun on the chest plate of the beast. The Qunari had also lopped off one of the beast's hands. How the hell did Marcus plan on fighting him earlier?
He supposed he could try and supply the last quarter.
With another draconic sounding roar, Vovin charged once more. He hated to think of it this way, but ideally the creature would be too busy trying to swat his friends to notice him. Then again, a brightly glowing dragon featured knight would be hard to ignore. Nevertheless, Vovin closed the gap as fast as he could. Pouring all the strength he had into his legs, Vovin leaped at the exposed part of the ogre, sword held forward. Throw a body at me will you? Well im going to throw one at YOU! Vovin muttered in his mind as the makeshift missile he had become sailed towards the ogre.
Mon Aug 26, 2013 11:46 pm
-Memories of War-
Isador continued his deadly waltz through the endless numbers of the darkspawn horde, empowered by the Mage’s spells he was nigh unstoppable while surrounded by so much death. The reaver’s thirst inside of Strauss was welling up, so much blood, so much evil, it was getting harder to keep his goal clear in mind. Suddenly, through the din of battle Isador sensed spellcasting nearby in the masses of the darkspawn. The Emissaries had begun to join the battle, a few casting several fireball’s clearly intended for the warriors assaulting the armored ogre. The memory of a similar engagement from his mercenary past flashed to life in Isador’s mind, the rebel mages ambushed the rest of the Black Axe’s team, no one else survived. “Mind your heads!” Isador shouted to his comrades to alert them of the incoming spells. He fought his way through the darkspawn host with no more difficulty then a farmer pulling weeds. As he approached the first Emissary it shot the fireball towards the warriors, leaving him open for the Black Axe to remove the monsters head. The other emissaries flung several entropy spells towards his comrades as well, and then turned their attention to the Black Axe.
Isador snapped back to reality as one of the darkspawn mages attempted to assault his mind but its pitiful spell was rebuked by the advanced mental barriers within Isador’s mind. With a flare of dark red, Strauss’ axe began to glow as he activated his righteous terror. “COME, YOU DOGS! KNEEL BEFORE THE BLACK AXE!” Isador bellowed as he buried his axe in the guts of another emissary. The Emissaries were helpless against the powers of a Templar, albeit somewhat twisted but just as effective. Every strike drained mana, every kill healed the Black Axe and drove him forward like a stampede crushing everything underfoot. His assault was finally brought to a halt as the ear piercing cries of the shrieks filled the air and the lithe; darkspawn hunters appeared, surrounded the Black Axe, poised to strike. Isador did his best to dodge and parry the blows but they came from all sides, raking him with their claws but his armor prevented most from penetrating the skin. The few that did land left a burning sensation around the wounds; poison on their claws. Strauss was able to keep fighting only thanks to the ring of poison resistance he had picked up a few years ago, which nullified the worse effects of the toxin. His body burned, his blood felt as if it were on fire but it was all only a tiny thought in the back of his mind.
Hearing the enormous ogre roar again, Strauss saw the few remaining emissaries cast more spells at his comrades. He bellowed a furious roar and began his deadly counterattack on the Shrieks. In the midst of so much chaos and death, Isador’s clarity of mind was teetering on a razor’s edge. It was becoming harder to stay in reality, staying out of his memories of war and remembering to help those who needed him right now. Isador continued shearing off limbs and heads with every block and parry. With each Shriek that fell Isador’s mind grew more and more clouded until his true purpose for this battle was yet another tiny thought in the back of his mind. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” He cackled hysterically as he lunged at the shriek alpha. Ducking under its first attack, Isador cleaved off its attack arm at the elbow, causing it to release a agonizing scream. It attempted to flee but Strass hacked off its left leg, sending it to the ground. “More blood…” He said as he removed its other leg, the shriek thrashing in pain. “MORE!” He shouted, taking off its last limb and laughing hysterically again. “MORE BLOO-“ As he raised his axe about his head to remove that of the alpha, a memory flashed through the mind of the Black Axe.
You can save them, Isador
Isador’s breath caught in his throat as he regained his state of mind, looking down and the writhing torso of the shriek alpha. He brought down his axe to put the beast down and took a deep breath to compose himself before returning his attention to the remaining emissaries, keeping that single memory constantly in his thoughts.
Teelo was aware of the cloacked figure before she revealed herself by her scent. It was like the other two-legs, but there was a subtly smell of the wild places. She wore bird feathers on her clothes with a large red shiny around her neck. She spoke of paths and of other two-legs but Teelo didn’t really understand, instead changing in to a wolf to scratch the fleas on his head. Zasalim exchanged words with the woman before she stepped in front of their path, stopping them. What did this “woman” want? Teelo didn’t really know what she was talking about with all her words of darkness and power and games. As she began walking down the trail Teelo caught up with her, still a wolf and began sniffing her. He changed back and walked alongside the woman, scratching his head in confusion. “You talk like two-legs, but smell like wild places.” He circled around her, looking her up and down. “You walk the wilds?” He stared at the gemstone around her neck with wide eyes. “Teelo never seen such a big shiny!” Whoever this woman may be, Teelo did not seem threatened in the least by her presence.
Tue Aug 27, 2013 5:56 pm
The Orzammar Trail - Zasalim and Teelo
Teelo's actions and curiosity caused the woman to chuckle. A young child, one who should be full of hope and playfulness, but she had no doubt at all that he had witnessed more than one should and less than one needed. He reminder her of her own...
"And you must be Teelo," she said, breaking her own line of thought as they continued down the trail. "Your teacher speaks well of you and wishes you the best of luck."
She couldn't help but grin at the young boy's questions. "My, my. What a curious lad you are. Yes, child, I've spent my fair share in the Wilds; running with the wolves, and soaring the skies with the birds. And what of you, little one?"
Thu Aug 29, 2013 6:18 pm
Deacon Reinhardt - Let Us Pray
Deacon refused to waver in his defense, but there were still countless targets to fight. In particular, a large group was headeing towards him. However, rather than merely engage them, he bowed his head and began to whisper. "Love thy Maker, who shines above us, and guides us to our fate. So blessed is the Maker's Light, that those who would seek forgiveness may have it granted." As he spoke, the bracelet once again began to shine. "So blessed is the Maker's Light...," Eyes closed, he moved into a combat stance. "...that those who would serve the Darkness..." He hit the closest Darkspawn with a open-palm strike. "...MAY BE CAST INTO THE ABYSS!"
With that, the bracelet once again released a blast of light, wiping out the group. The attack, however, was localized, and dissipated just behind the now-dead squad of assailants. It was extraordinary power, albeit rather short-ranged. Deacon took a knee for a moment, as two consecutive uses of the attack took a toll. However, the spell that he had been given allowed him to recover fairly quickly. He was still rather tired, but he could keep fighting now. "So... anyone else want to try their luck?!" He would keep the path clear for as long as was necessary.
Fri Aug 30, 2013 12:34 am
- Redcliffe Castle: Throne Room.
Isador wasn't the only one having issues with their bloodlust.
As soon as the doors burst open and the Darkspawn charged into the room, Valmyria was already moving, adrenaline once again racing through her system as she was one of the first of the defenders to collide into the new threat. She slashed and hacked her way into the growing horde.
She no longer fought with the grace and elegance of a elven warrior, but fought with all the rage and brutality of a archdemon. But for each of the monsters she slew for each drop of blood split, her own or theirs, she lost just a little bit more of herself to the frenzy. Val was completely unaware of the changes occurring to her. Her eyes had lost their brilliant blue and turned a deep incarnadine-red. Her once perfectly straight and white teeth were now fanged. It just felt so great, but other things were holding her back, and slowly she used her twisted willpower to hack away at the bonds of magic around her.
The Warden slammed her blade through a charging Hurlock and turned around just in time to catch the sword of another. She slammed the sword down, causing the darkspawn to stumble forward right into her now empty talons. She lashed out with brutality and tore the throat right out of it. Val removed the her sword from the other Hurlock and moved forward eager to find her next kill.
He found her though and Val just barely moved in time to avoid the large axe slicing through the air. Val quickly spun around and parried the axe away again and got a good look at her opponent. A Hurlock Alpha
. this creature was one of the strongest of the Hurlock variants. They were often the veterans of several conflicts, well skilled, heavily armed, and far more intelligent than its farmyard brethren.
She parried again and then struck back, but the Hurlock Leader easily countered her blows and added his own. She yelled in anger and frustration as the axe bit a little into her leg. The Alpha was moving as fast as she could. Every swing it could match and deliver more. The sword, axe, talons, all of them moved together with incredible speed and accuracy. Parrying, striking, fenting. The two warriors clashed and fought like the terrible gods of old, both grunting and yelling with every hit delivered and received.
The Leader spun the axe and brought it curving up inside of her defenses. Once again, the Warden was hard pressed to block the attack, but in doing so, the Oathkeeper was knocked out of her hand. The sword sailed across the room with such a force that it stuck into the wood near Zha'Gren. Out of options, she leaped forward shoved the axe out of the way, and slammed her armored fist into the helmet.
The Hurlock stumbled back, but the Warden was on him before he could get oriented. Val gripped him by the shoulder and landed a few well placed blows against the chest plate even a kick, denting the savage armor, and then delivered a final blow to the creature in the helmet again, knocking it backwards into the ground. the axe fell to the ground by her feet. Instead of doing the logical thing and picking it up, she kicked it to the side and advanced on her fallen foe.
Victory was within her grasp as she rushed forward to end the creature's life, only to have it kick her feet out from beneath her and drop her onto the bloodied floor with a painful yelp.
Before Valmyria could recover, the Leader was on her again. The hurlock grabbed the elf woman be the throat and hoisted her into the air. The darkspawn delivered its own series of punches to her unprotected stomach as it slammed her into a wall. Val clawed desperately at the hand choking her to get it to release her, coughing and chocking on her own blood with every blow, but failed to get it to let go. Soon, the elf stopped moving and went limp in the beast's hands. Satisfied with the results and deciding to go for effect, the Darkspawn heaved Val high into the air and brought her down on one of the oak tables, breaking the table in half.
The darkspawn pulled out a wicked looking knife moved to the fallen ranger. He knelt down and reached out for her head. He would make an example of her to them all, by severing the head of the savage woman. He was however rewarded with a kick to the abdomen instead, causing him to stumble backwards and giving Valmyria enough time to leap forward and tackle him into the stone floor.
The two struggled on the floor for dominance; punching, kneeing, Valmyria even attempted to bit him before she ended on top, pinning him to the floor. Val had one of its arms pinned under her boot and fought to shove her talons through its chest. The Hurlock had its free hand gripped tightly around the gauntlet and worked to force it back, but the leverage was on the elven woman's side and the talons slowly inched there way closer and closer to the Hurlock. "Come on,"
she hissed, though it no longer sounded quite like her, but as if it had been warped. "Let's put a smile on that face..."
The Darksapwn suddenly released its grip and pulled the gauntlet to the side. The talons dug into the stone floor, and before a recovery could be made, he slammed his own armored fist into the elf's temple as hard as it could manage. The blow sent Val off the darksapwn and he quickly reversed the roles, pinning Val underneath him. His foot forced the wicked looking gauntlet to the floor and the arm out at an extended position to keep her from getting any leverage. His other knee was placed between her other arm and side, preventing it from being able to reach any further than the leg. His hands though squeezed around her throat.
The Warden thrashed around violently trying with all her might to get free. but nothing worked, he was just too well placed. "Come on... smile"
it hissed at her. Slowly the pressure began to build and her world began to fade into darkness. Her hand fell limp to the floor...
ARL DRAIL HAILSTROM
The Arl fought alongside his men to combat the horrors. Unlike his other noblemen, he wasn't content to leave his fate with others while hiding behind women and children. How the hell did these darkspawn get here?
he wondered as he cut a Genlock down. The entire day had been full of questions. First, it was going to be a "normal" day full of boring arguments of troop placement, passionate speeches of the oppression of elves, the normal politics of this day in age. But things had taken a turn for the interesting once they were attacked. The attackers, he was told by his aids, noblemen, and even the Silver Order Captain Moria, were from his brother, Teryn Cousland.
But that made no sense. Why would his brother attack an ally? To gain this woman that was right now fighting as if she was posed by demons? Why not talk to him and request it? Sure, he and the Teryn had their disagreements, and the pompous ass was egotistical and power hungry. But not stupid enough to do this. So many things weren't adding up and he wanted answers.
But that luxury wasn't coming today, and might not if they failed to get out of here. the castle was lost, that was obvious to him by this point. but he couldn't leave his people to be slaughtered by these monsters.
He watched with shock as the Warden Commander went down, and rushed over the sea of attackers as fast as he could, but the going was slow and dangerous as he weaved between his own men fighting for their lives, and those in the room unable to defend themselves. The darkspawn were being pushed out of the room quickly due to their valor.
The Arl reached her and shoved his sword between the shoulders of the Darksapwn kneeling over her. It struggled for a few seconds longer before collapsing on top of her. He quickly pushed the body off of Valmyria and was horrified by the damage done. Blood ran freely from a gash in the side of her head and from the mouth. A bruise was already starting to form around her throat. He quickly yanked off a glove and felt for a pulse by her neck.
He found one, faint, but it was there. He quickly examined the rest of her. She was even more torn up from before, nasty set of cuts, fresh from combat. She looked different now, not scary like during the fight, and the black gauntlet on her right hand was missing. She looked... peaceful, almost like she was sleeping.. except for the blood, bruises, and dirt. Then she just looked dead.
A shadow suddenly came over him, and he wheeled about in defense, only to find his Guard Captain.
"Bring me some cuffs, we aren't taking any chances with her," he said with a sigh of relief. He knew she needed help, but there was no telling if she was going to "change" again. And he had questions. His Captain returned a moment later with set of heavy cuffs that bound around the arms instead of the wrists. He knelt down and started to cuff the Warden as Drail worked to patch what he could of her up. His mage was completely exhausted from the attack, and healers were already working on others, so he did what he could for her.
The Arl grabbed what remained of her once deep blue cloak and wrapped it around her. The Captain knelt over to pick her up, but the Arl brushed him away. "She'll be in my care, go attend to the others and make sure we can move out as soon as possible," he ordered. the Captain nodded and moved away to start issuing orders and commands.
The Arl picked her up carefully as to not disturb the bandages and wounds. She'd taken a hell of a beating and it was going to be a while before she woke up. Most likely longer to heal, but she was surprisingly light. He looked at her face with a furrowed brow. He was surprised at how young she was, how small she seemed. When he first saw her, she seemed so much older so much different than this figure he held in his arms.
He adjusted her head so it would be more supportive, and walked back towards the wounded as the last of the darkspawn were mopped up.
Now all they needed, as to know that the way was clear...
Sat Aug 31, 2013 3:17 am
Always watching. Always waiting. Unseen and unheard from any but the most skilled and attentive warriors listening for the slightest scuffle, ever wary of a blade finding their back. Onwards he shuffled bit by bit across the wooden support beams keeping the ceiling up, claws holding firmly and easily as the Darkspawn Hunter made its way above both the Arl and his target. Valmyria. Shoved through his belt was the Warden Commanders signature blade, the oathkeeper. The blades edge was a faint green that was nearly translucent, coated in the killers own batch of special poison used to numb an enemies limbs to a point of complete immobility to make a tough fight easy.
Weakened enemies don't block killing blow.
Now in position above Val, looking down like a god upon the unsuspecting masses, Zha'Gren slowly and quietly drew the sword and leveled its poisoned blade face down at Val. He couldn't get through the throng of men without murdering everyone, that would be sloppy for someone with his skills. No, what he wanted was one hit on one person to finish it and then flee to the area the other Darkspawn had come from moments ago. Zha'Gren dropped Oathkeeper.
the blade cut a shallow wound in Valmyrias cheek, administering the diluted numbing poison completely without revealing it to anyone around what had been on the sword. Even as it quivered in the ground for a brief moment he was on the move, releasing his claws and swinging on his feet while the men below stared upwards in confusion and shock at the last assailant failing to kill the elf woman, arrows accompanied their shouts but not found purchase against the agile foe swinging among the wooden beams. With a grunt, Zha'Gren let go of the beam and fell downwards to the floor with a slight thump, falling in a roll directly onto a quick flight to the exit to the Arls private tunnels.
Zha'Gren turned around and shouted briefly, "Bring Val!" as he issapeared into the unknown before an arrow could strike his chest.
Sat Aug 31, 2013 11:36 pm
It wasn't often that an attack as ballsy as launching yourself at a foe worked out, but the stars seemed to be aligning for Vovin. The armored ogre was too preoccupied with trying to rip the Dragon Knight's father and the massive Qunari off of its rapidly crumbling legs to notice the orange gleaming missile sailing towards it. At least, not until it was too late anyway. The ogre looked up as the glow reached it, but brought its arms up, but to no avail.
"rrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAGH" Vovin roared as he flew into the ogre's chest, the sound of his cry growing louder as he came nearer. Sword first, the young man-missile plunged into the creature's chest. Gore and muscle surrounded him and he all went dark for a brief moment, but then Vovin erupted from the mutilated creature's back. Coated in blood and viscera, Vovin crunched against the hard ground and rolled to a stop a few meters away. His improvised living projectile had caused a lot of physical jarring, and the impact with the ground had take its toll as well. Regardless, there was a battle going on and the young warrior was back on his feet in no time. The final results of his attack had yet to become apparent, though the ogre was likely dead. Vovin could take pride in aiding in such a thing later, as more Darkspawn were closing in on him.
Parrying and striking down monster after monster, the blood soaked Dragon Knight continued the fight. But he felt the spells that gave him strength fading and it was becoming harder and harder to maintain this level of Beyond the Veil. He began to wonder just when they would be getting out of here. If he died here, his mission would be lost.
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