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RE: The Hallows Inn

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1/20/2015 18:50:28   
TJByrum
Member

Sakolmir soared through the air as he focused on landing in the streets with his companions. His blade already drawn, he had aimed for a perfect spot between the would-be defenders and Gorst and Frail. Gorst and Frail was tasked with finding the girl, who would no doubt be at the inn. Sakolmir, however, did not foresee the intelligence of the hunter. An oncoming arrow of fire had been sent towards his destination, and there was nothing he could do about it. Almost as soon as he landed the arrow made contact with his person, wrenching itself in his cloak and into his body. The cloak caught fire but mere flame was of no harm to a being of his power. His entire cloak erupted in a burst of raging fire, giving him the appearance of a fearsome, burning monster. Nevertheless, it angered Sakolmir that the hunter was able to actually hit him, so he made it a priority to ignore his orders and quickly rushed for the hunter, blade in hand.

Gorst and Frail came to a sliding halt as the ground beneath them seemed to open up. They quickly glanced back and caught the attention of a vampiric woman: Kitsondra. In a quick fashion the Queen of Illusions rushed over to meet them. "If you want the girl then you must defeat us first. That's how it goes is it not? DOn't get to greedy now, I'll be your opponent," Kitsondra told them. Soon enough one of her allies, Sera, rushed over to her aid as well. With quick perception Frail raised his blade to lock with Sera. A long, diseased tongue shot from Frail's hood and struck Sera in the eye as her laughed, hopefully surprising the woman.

"Gorst, get the girl, I'll hold these two off." As Frail's command, Gorst pushed through Kitsondra's illusion and walked over the empty abyss and continued on his way to the inn, hoping one of the two wouldn't break off and pursue him.

At the gate, where the main battle occurred, the Lamentor cast his off-hand up to absorb the incoming fireballs of Marcelline. He could feel the heat of her magic as it entered his body, coursing through his veins, or at least the equivalent of his veins. "Do you really believe petty magic could hurt me?" Sheathing his blade, the Lamentor aimed both palms at Marcelline and unleashed two powerful bursts of fire-based magic at the woman. No amount of barriers could protect her from that magic, so she would be forced to quickly evade the incoming blast.



The sound of whizzing metal whistled through the air as Toren and the Master swung at one another with deadly strikes. It was a paradox: both combatants knew how the fight was going to turn out ten seconds from current time, and no matter how much they switched their strategy it seemed the opponent was already switching up their own strategy. It was a fruitless competition. Both of the warriors finally stepped back ina restful stance, pacing in circles and glaring at each other with precision.

"Give it up Kerall, you can't beat me. Your 'friends' will be dead in a moment's notice and the rest of our Brothers will be riding off with your precious exploit! Surrender and return to the fold!"

"You are a fool to believe I would return, Master. There's a higher power at work here... it was fate who brought my allies together, not mere coincidence!"

"There's only one higher power, Kerall, and you served him! If you are not with us, then you are against us!" The Master quickly dropped his blade and emitted powerful blasts of dark magic from both palms, targeting the ground beneath Toren's feet. A large explosion erupted outside the gates, creating a large plume of what seemed to be black smoke; neither combatant could not be seen.
DF AQW  Post #: 101
1/20/2015 20:56:03   
Master K
Member

"Do you really believe petty magic could hurt me?" The Nazha taunted, as it sent a barrage of fire towards Marcelline.

"Oh dear." She said, trying to keep her composure under fire. She quickly hit the ground, rolling away from the fire. She eventually made it back to her feet, and the Nazha laughed. Marcelline was indeed outmatched, by magic, and by swordsmanship. However, she wasn't one to abandon hope. She had a duty to fulfill, and she wasn't one to just roll over and die the moment trouble arose. The battle was picking up; Toren had been engulfed by smoke, Sera assaulted by a tongue, Nazha storming the Hallows Inn, one of them was flaming...

Marcelline had to focus on her own opponent now. She drew it's attention, and she had to find a way to deal with it. Marcelline began to race forward, towards the Nazha. Hands on her dagger and umbrella, she charged forward steadily.

"Amusing little creature, you are." her opponent mused, readying its hand once more. "You think that knife will do much to me?" It then let off one more blast of fire, perhaps as just a deterrent. It didn't see her as much of a threat to dirty its blade at the moment. Marcelline ducked past it, and met up with the Nazha.

It seemed so intent on blocking her dagger, it never even saw the umbrella coming.

Little did it know, Marcelline's umbrella wasn't merely for deflecting the elements. The tip of the umbrella was sharpened to a point. In times of desperation, it could act as a weapon when closed up. It was most effective when wielded with both hands, acting in the similar fashion as a spear. Gripping it with both her hands, she took it and jabbed the monster towards the head area of its cloaked form.

"Nobody ever sees the umbrella coming." Marcelline said politely. The Nazha was sent reeling slightly, not so much from pain, but more or less from the shock of being impaled with an umbrella. Gripping it's cloaked head still, it roared at her furiously.

"You mongrel!" It roared at her. With it's free hand, it began to draw out its blade. Marcelline backed up, and cast more fireballs at it.

AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 102
1/20/2015 22:51:38   
Draycos777
Member

"Tsk, how annoying."

When Kitsondra went after the Nazha, she had started up a spell so that she could pin the two down her and force them to fight her. However, with Sera coming to help her, the Nazha had took a more defensive stance and evaded her grasp. The other ended up locking swords with Sera. After only a few clashes, the Nazha struck Sera in the eye with it's tongue.

"I'm not sure if there is a better way to never get a date by being disgusting then that."

"Gorst, get the girl, I'll hold these two off."

This was not good news. The spell that Kitsondra wanted to cast still did not have enough energy yet, but she needed to keep the two here. The spell wouldn't be ready in time if one of them left now. Out of the corner of her eye Kitsondra could tell Marcelline would be in trouble shortly as well. Her fireball attack failed and the Nazha would soon begin his counterattack.

Kitsondra's eyes widened when she saw the type of attack the Nazha performed. Crazily enough, the Nazha that Marcelline was fighting became the answer to her own Nazha problem. As Marcelline dodged the blast from her attacker, Kitsondra tracked it as it flew by and jumped right into it's path. The Nazha weren't the only ones who knew how to redirect magic. She hadn't spent years serving those dusty, old windbags for nothing. How to change a spell casted at you and use it to your own advantage was one of the first things she had them teach her when she became a noble. Of course it wasn't on the same level as the Nazha since it wouldn't have worked if she wasn't already powering up to cast a high-grade spell of her own. Had she just thrown herself into the blast without any preparation, she would have been burnt to a crisp. Holding up her hands in a cone shape, Kitsondra took in the blast and brought her hands to her chest to let the magic flow into her body.

The heat from the magic was extremely uncomfortable, but she dealt with the heat. If it meant instantly gaining the magic she needed to finish her spell in a hurry, then it was worth it. In fact, the dark magic of the Nazha even left some power over.

Kitsondra's body shook a bit from taking in all that magic and while her senses were dull she could hear one of the Nazha yelling about a dog, but it didn't really matter to Kitsondra. Regaining her senses, Kitsondra used the left over magic to shoot out a compressed magical blast towards the Nazha running towards the Inn. It didn't faze him at all but it slowed him down.

"That was all I needed, for you to look this way."

Kitsondra then turned to Sera. She had been struck in the eye and it no doubt had hurt like hell, but she was standing facing the Nazha as if it didn't faze her at all. While it looked like talking wasn't her forte, she truly did shine in battle. It was no wonder why she had begun to make a name for herself. Kitsondra was glad that even though she knew Sera must not like her one bit, she had came over here anyways. This might not have worked if it was any of the others. Grinning Kitsondra yelled over to Sera.

"Oi, Sera. Can you hold those guys off a bit for me? I'm gonna get you some help but the spell will take a few seconds to cast. Well how about it? Promise you won't be disappointed."

With that, Kitsondra clapped her hands and started to chant as a reddish-pink aura envelopment her hands. Kitsondra was sure that Sera could handle herself while she prepared the next illusion.

"The elements of Wind,Water and Earth. Heed my call! Lend me your strength and use that which is under your care! Your contract to me remains so long as the enemies before me stand or this creature falls! And so! Give my spell life!"

Releasing the magic in her hands, Kitsondra opened her arms and a wave of red magic shot outwards in an arc and soon faded.

The abyssal hole around the Inn faded and the Stone river flowed underneath the Inn normally once more. The air behind Kitsondra started to glow and shimmer. Then seconds later a dragonic, bird-like shriek echoed across the battlefield.

Kitsondra smirked at the Nazha who had attempted to run towards the Inn again. "Didn't I tell you not to be greedy? You'll get the girl, only after you have beaten us."

The ground near Sera and Kitsondra shook with a thud as a heavy-set creature place the weight of it's body on the ground with both feet.

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 1/21/2015 5:52:28 >
AQ  Post #: 103
1/21/2015 0:22:05   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 Sera didn't know if she was annoyed or disgusted when the Nazha used an... unconventional attack by flicking her eye with its tongue. Reflexively, she shut her eye, but not even a hiss of pain escaped her throat. It hadn't been the first time something had struck her eye, though granted that 'something' was usually something normal like a bug or dirt.

Not letting herself be distracted for more than a second, she darted forward again to cross blades with the Nazha. She wasn't sure if it was because her opponent knew what she would do before she did it, or if the Nazha was just better than she was, but the dance was more her trying to hold her ground against it than any real progress.

Up, up, left, up, down, down right, quick up! Bring one of your throwing knives up as well. Yes, it's too small to be truly effective, but the second blade will help slightly against the Nazha's pushing down on your arms. Bend your knees with the blow. And sharp up! Arc your arm to the side as you shake the opponent off to draw the sword away from his body and give you an opening. Maybe it will be long enough to - No, darn it. No time to use the small opening to throw the knife towards the chest.

Where's the next attack coming from? One step back and to the left and sword up to the right to dodge and block. No time to really parry and strike back yet. Conserve energy. Use only what you need to defend yourself and no more.

Wait? Why was Kitsondra saying her name? No amount of tuning out words could completely block out part of her attention shooting towards someone to directly spoke to her. Though she hadn't quite heard what was said over the ringing of her blade against the Nazha's. Something about holding them off? Both of them? Keeping one relatively in place was difficult enough. Kitsondra had better have a good reason to - DUCK!

The first Nazha had taken her split second of distraction to aim a blow at her neck. She managed to doge it - barely - but traded a killing blow for a crippling one. Her right arm took the hit about an inch below her shoulder. If she hadn't been wearing armor, she'd have been hurt more than she was. Instead of a wound that gushed blood, the armor kept pressure on it, so that only small amounts of blood trickled down from it. Skipping back a few inches, she took the added space to fully distract the second Nazha along with the first, at the same time switching her sword from her right hand to her left and thanking every god she knew of - and all the ones she didn't - that she didn't favor one hand over the other, at least not with a blade.

Redoubling her efforts she did, in fact, manage to keep both of the Nazha focused on her. She might not be more than a nuisance to them, but she was going to be the most annoying nuisance she could. She was never able to completely hurt them, but she was just skilled enough to scratch them - or at least scratch their clothing. There was no way to land a killing blow, and she didn't really have time to see if the blows she could land bled them. In a battle, it was often hard to tell if the blood on her sword came from herself or from her opponents.

Kitsondra was shouting something. Sera didn't really care what. She did care when she stood and a burst of red magic shot outwards from her, momentarily blinding her. She cared even more when a shriek tore through the air. Almost despite herself, she spared the milliseconds she had between the Nazha's attempts to kill her to glance at the... thing Kitsondra had summoned. Seemed to have summoned. A wyvern, she thought it was called.

Illusion or not, the shaking of the ground as the creature landed felt real, and only years of training having given her amazing balance kept her from stumbling. Kitsondra, she noticed, sounded very pleased with herself as she addressed the Nazha. Sera guessed if she glanced over, Kitsondra would look equally pleased.

Ignore her. If she's not attacking you or getting in the way she's not important. What's important is the Nazha trying very hard to kill you. Though perhaps... she wasn't sure how effective Kitsondra's illusions were, especially if the targets knew that they weren't real. Could she use the illusory wyvern's bulk as a sort of cover? Or did the Nazha know that it wasn't truly there and would be able to ignore it.

"When I get out of this, I'm finding books on magic," Sera resolved. It was high time she sat down and learned about the different types of magic and how she could use them to her advantage when a spell caster chose to use them. For the time being, she would keep a small amount of her attention on the beast, as much as she could spare, and see how it acted against the Nazha and, more importantly, how the Nazha reacted to it.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 104
1/21/2015 1:53:08   
Zephyrial
Member

The time had come.

An aura of impending doom had settled over the town, a miasma of gloom that waxed fearsome at the Northern gate, where the rag-tag band of wanderers stood ready to receive the Nazha. As soon as he arrived, Kenet proceeded to Lock's side, mindful of the promise that he had made. In a vain attempt to lighten the mood, he clapped the other man on the shoulder with the utmost delicacy, and spouted some half-hearted joke - something about 'being ready to swat some flies'. The awkwardness of it caused him to turn away, and he once again became reticent, staring warily into the forest. Could this place, which already seemed filled with monsters and mysteries, hold the answers he sought...? Either way, the Nazha stood in his path, and he hardened his heart against them. Demons or no, he would tear them to shreds.

He did not have to wait long for his first glimpse of his enemy. Like a scene from some baroque opera, the Nazha melted out of the dark woods, astride midnight steeds more substantial and yet substantially more terrible than those the undead rode into battle, and with a howl that chilled the bones. Galvanising the defenders into action, the mysterious Toren leapt into battle with a beserker's blind courage, prompting the leader of the hooded monsters to call out...

"Kerall! There will be no more running for you this time! Your betrayal will be met with execution!"

...and his words left nothing to the imagination, even without the grotesque transformation the once rugged ranger had undergone - without a doubt, Toren was a devil himself, locked in open rebellion against some gruesome dark lord. Strangely, Kenet felt some sort of kinship with him now; somehow or another, they were both trying to come to terms with the darkness inside of them. He was glad that they were set to mutually benefit from this fight; still, perhaps later the two of them would have to have a little talk...

Cautious to a fault, Kenet initially hung back, observing the tide of the battle. His allies displayed impressive temperaments, and those who lacked strength compensated with raw courage, as they met the blades of the airborne demons with prodigious moxie. He was thankful to see that the two women - enemies at the table, but sisters on the battlefield - had taken the initiative and moved to stop the two Nazha headed for the Inn, leaving the rest for them to mop up. For a while, he watched. Eventually, however, as the Nazha demonstrated their incredible feats of strength and arcane mastery, he felt the bloodlust begin to rise within him. The urge to fight, to kill, to use his massive strength to crush his opponents into dust! Gradually, forgetting Lock entirely, he began to fixate upon one particular Nazha, likewise hanging back. He took a step towards the creature... slowly... menacingly. He almost imagined that the Nazha's hellish visage betrayed a trace of fear, as if he was already known to it...


That was enough. Pushing off on one heel, Kenet broke into a dead sprint, speeding towards the Nazha with terrible intent. Caught off guard, the creature barely had time to leap out of the way before Kenet's arm scythed the air below it in a wild haymaker, the clumsiness of the move belying it's incredible power. Descending slowly to the ground, as if weightless, the Nazha snarled wordlessly at him, before drawing a long, saw-toothed blade out of the folds of its voluminous cloak. Aiming the weapon at his heart, it lunged with incredible speed... but Kenet merely batted the blade away, as if it were a twig rather than a wicked edge. Although he received no injury, the blade still shredded the folds of his sleeve, revealing for a moment the skin underneath - horrible, wondrous skin. For the first time in many, many years, Kenet's unholy flesh was revealed to all the world: silvery, unnaturally rounded, with a sickly aura. His cover was blown, but Kenet didn't care. In his mind, he was confronting the mysteries of his past - fighting his own darkness personified in these cloaked nightmares.

Staring deep into the Nazha's eyes, he flashed a wicked grin and a manic stare. "You think you are the only monsters around here!?"

CRACK.

Perhaps the creature knew of his movements before he made them. Perhaps not. In these first, frenzied moments of battle, however, the Nazha seemed unable to resist his momentum. With a sickening crack, Kenet's fist plunged into the Nazha's cloak, coming into contact with flesh of indeterminate composition. Like an arrow through tissue paper, it gave way without protest, disintegrating the upper part of the Nazha's right shoulder. With a roar of fury and anguish, the Nazha momentarily surprised him, leaping over his head in a storm of shadow, and - switching its sword to its off-hand faster than an eyeblink - delivering a grazing slash across Kenet's back, from hip to shoulder. Robbed of its support, his poncho gave up it's long struggle, and his already-torn shirt fell away to hang loosely around his waist, revealing Kenet's upper body completely. Beneath the cloth, a delicate wound, barely visible, traced a path from left to right along his skin. It oozed red blood, and in contrast with his skin, gave him the look of a corpse.

Drawing its good hand close to its chest, the Nazha thrust out, propelling a huge virl of swirling smoke directly towards him. As it passed, grass died - but Kenet, striding forward, dashed it harmlessly away. Finally, the madness faded from the scene, and Kenet once again became aware of himself and his surroundings. The two combatants caught their breath - or whatever the Nazha called breathing - examining their wounds and surveying their opponent. Sweat dripped down Kenet's temple, and he wiped it away, taking with it the layer of grime that had masked him for so long. His body was exposed for all to see - at once seemingly emaciated and muscled, as if drawn by a painter missing his eyeglasses. Looking around him, Kenet observed his comrades and their battles, and the staring eyes of those townsfolk brave enough to chance a peek from between their tattered curtains.

There are going to be a lot of questions to be answered...

...But first, the fight. Kenet's element of surprise gone, the Nazha could finally employ all its most devilish arts - and, cradling its arm indignantly, it seemed willing to do so. Both knew that the other could be harmed. All that lay before them... was death.

< Message edited by Zephyrial -- 1/21/2015 1:54:42 >
Post #: 105
1/21/2015 6:45:44   
Draycos777
Member

"How long has it been since I've used a spell of this level? Fifteen, maybe even twenty years."

Sera, for her part, did a wonderful job at holding the two Nazha back. This was why Kitsondra knew it wouldn't have worked if it was anyone else. Without reflexes like her's, anyone would no doubt be dead by now. However an even more important part started now.

"I should go and thank her now. She got hurt stall time for me after all."

Biting her right index finger and drawing blood, Kitsondra pointed at the two Nazha with her left hand. "Remove them from my sight."

Immediately the Wyvern that Kitsondra had summoned, shrieked once more and flapped it's wings. Gliding towards the group of three at a pace that would scare even the most die-hard thrill seeker, it raised it's tail pointing a massive stinger at the Nazha. Even though it was an illusion, something instinctual told the two Nazha to dodge this attack. Slamming it's tail down, the Wyvern came back to the ground. Removing it's stinger from the ground, a rather large hole in the ground now, the creature noticed that the Nazha had moved out of the way. Flapping it's wings once more, the Wyvern took to the skies once more. Things had just gotten a bit more complicated for the two who were simply going after a little girl.

Kitsondra came up behind Sera, as the two Nazha were busy fighting her illusion, and grabbed her by the 'injured' shoulder. Her hands wrapping around until her index finger came into contact with the wound. The blood from the wound she had giving herself earlier mixed and mingled with the blood of Sera's wound and began to react. Kitsondra backed up as Sera shook her off in the same second that she had grabbed her.

"Hopefully tat with be enough to heal it before she goes back out to fight them."

"Calm down, it's just me. How about we switch roles here and I'll hold these two off for a bit. Besides, I have something I want to tell you."

Kitsondra took a slight glance at Sera's wound. Good. The healing properties of her vampiric blood is working it's magic and was already starting to bind the wound.

"The Wyvern fighting those things is indeed an illusion. It has a set amount of parameter it must follow and if it take a single hit, the spell will be broken. Therefore, I must stay put and regulate it's movements and keep giving it a steady steam of magic so the spell doesn't break even if it's hit. If I move or use another spell, the magic that it needs won't be readily available for it. The spell, however, was cast using the strength of the elements. So the Wyvern indeed has a 'real' body and can harm a person. While these two are occupied by the Wyvern, find an opening in their stance or pattern of attack and tell me. I'll have the Wyvern go for a fake killing blow, and when it fails use that chance to finish them."

The Wyvern roared as it swooped towards the Nazha to take a bite out of the heads. "So what do you say Sera? Are you in?"
AQ  Post #: 106
1/21/2015 10:31:54   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 Sera had started to move in for another attack when the Wyvern let out another enormous shriek and moved. Her brain may have known it wasn't real, but her brain had no control over reflexes that jerked her to a stop.

The second she had, someone came up behind her and grabbed her injured shoulder, pressing a finger right on the wound. Sera immediately broke free of the hand, whirling around and only just managing to not draw her sword - entirely.

It was just Kitsondra. What did that woman think she was - Wait. Her shoulder had stopped hurting. Another illusion? Or did the broker know healing magic as well? Flexing her shoulder experimentally, and switching her sword to her right hand, she confirmed that, yes, in her head or otherwise, her shoulder had stopped hurting.

"Calm down, it's just me. How about we switch roles here and I'll hold these two off for a bit. Besides, I have something I want to tell you."

Sera didn't trust Kitsondra. But a glance back showed that the wyvern was, for the moment at least, holding off the two Nazha and none of the others were bearing down on the inn yet. She had time to breath and common sense made her take it. Even if it meant hearing this woman out.

"The Wyvern fighting those things is indeed an illusion. It has a set amount of parameter it must follow and if it take a single hit, the spell will be broken. Therefore, I must stay put and regulate it's movements and keep giving it a steady steam of magic so the spell doesn't break even if it's hit. If I move or use another spell, the magic that it needs won't be readily available for it. The spell, however, was cast using the strength of the elements. So the Wyvern indeed has a 'real' body and can harm a person. While these two are occupied by the Wyvern, find an opening in their stance or pattern of attack and tell me. I'll have the Wyvern go for a fake killing blow, and when it fails use that chance to finish them. So what do you say Sera? Are you in?"

Sera narrowed her eyes slightly in thought. Kitsondra wanted to deal. And on the surface, there were no faults with the trade. The plan was sound and should work. At least if the Nazha left an opening large enough for her to take advantage of which she wasn't sure about. She had barely been able to tear their clothing but the wyvern had the advantages of size, speed, and intimidation that she didn't, so perhaps that would make enough of a difference.

"But this is a broker. They don't know how to deal in fair trade," she reminded herself. Somehow, Kitsondra's plan was intended to result with her on top.

"This is a battle. Coming out on top means coming out alive, and you know it." The secondary reminder was sharper, in a mental tone that if she had been speaking aloud she would have been saying 'stop being an idiot.'

In the end, it came down to 'Do I trust Kitsondra to not have an agenda beyond completing the job with this proposed plan or do I disregard what should be a solid strategy simply because information brokers can't be trusted?' Either option came with risks. Beyond the simple fact that choosing to trust someone meant trusting them not to place a dagger between your shoulder blades, the entire plan hinged on just how long the wyvern would last. If she couldn't find an opening before Kitsondra ran out of magic or had to break the spell, it would fail. On the other hand, not trusting the plan put her in direct contact with the Nazha, and they had already proven that they could kill her if she slipped even a little.

Sera mentally weighed the pros and cons of both decisions. Trusting Kitsondra put her out of the battle, giving her at least a small amount of time to rest and recover. On the other hand, ignoring the simple 'she's a broker and brokers can't be trusted', there were things she couldn't control, such as how long the woman could, in fact, maintain that spell. Not trusting Kitsondra put her in more immediate danger, yes, but she knew she was good, and was confident in her ability to outlast them, even if she couldn't kill them. But for how long? The Nazha had almost killed her. She could hold them in place for a while, she was sure. But could she do it long enough for others to drop them or for them to retreat? That she wasn't so sure of.

The risks of both didn't balance out with her main priority of 'complete the job and come out alive' when she looked at them objectively. Nor did the gains. No matter how she looked at it, her best chance to successfully complete her assignment and live to tell the tail was Kitsondra's plan. The scales still weren't even, they still tipped in the Nazha's favor, and there was no telling how they did or didn't tip in Kitsondra's favor. But they came closer to balancing when weighed against working with the woman vs. working by herself.

"All right," she finally said, nodding her head. Glancing back, she saw that the wyvern had managed to push the two Nazha back about a foot and a half; more than she had managed by herself. She also noticed that her deliberating had only taken about a minute. "I'm in."
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 107
1/21/2015 12:56:45   
Bastet
Member

Symphony had waited for the battle to come sitting on top of a crate, on the side of a small house. They weren’t one to shy away from fighting, especially after offering themselves to. Those who hadn’t seen them probably thought that they weren’t going to fight, but they were just preparing a special surprise of their own. The bard knew that they wouldn’t be of much use in a direct fight against the Nazha, and employed the one magic they had learned to defend themselves against a melee attacker. Their guitar wasn’t much of a close-quarters weapon.

The place where they sat definitely didn’t give off a good smell, but they couldn’t afford to risk being near the walls. The Nazha would have probably made mince meat of someone who used a guitar as their weapon. Fortunately Symphony knew just what could’ve solved that problem for them.

It was the longest sequence they knew of, and by far the most complicated. Symphony needed the reclusion the street side provided them to prepare the one trick that could make them into an actual fighting force on the battlefield.

Honestly, I have no idea if this will actually work against the Nazha. They definitely aren’t comparable to the few thugs which I’ve ever used this trick against. Oh well, my allies are competent enough. Perhaps I’ll help someone before heading to fight off a Nazha by myself.

When the fighting intensified, Symphony was just about done playing their music. At least, the first part of it. As long as the spell was kept up, the bard couldn’t take their hands off of the guitar. In front of them, a shiny figure began glimmering. The strings of Symphony’s guitar extended themselves, stopping when they reached key joints of the figure.

It was a figure that Symphony was familiar with, even though it didn’t speak. In fact, it was a manifestation of their will. As it fully materialized, its feature defined themselves. It was a warrior completely clad in golden armor, and held a pike in its hands: the most effective weapon for keeping enemies away. Though the figure looked immaterial, and was somewhat transparent, it possessed far more direct strenght than Symphony had.

The bard had had a few years to learn how to maneuver the golden pikeman efficiently, though they rarely employed its use. The spirit maneuvered the the figure around for a minute, once again getting used to controlling two bodies at once.

The pike-armed figure was about as tangible as a creature with an actual body, and took very little damage from direct strikes. Its weakpoint was that the strings that let Symphony control it could be cut, immediately defusing the spell. Another one was that Symphony had to stay close to the figure while controlling it, else the cables would snap off.

They finally walked out of the street side, Symphony playing their guitar to move the figure ahead of them as they walked towards the battlefield. The bard was drawn to the scene where Kitsondra and Sera were fighting to defend the Inn, aided by the illusionary wyvern. The scales could be tipped further in the defenders’ favor if Symphony helped them defend the Inn from attacks.
Besides, their job was to protect the girl.

The duo stepped forth, with the imposing warrior positioned in a way that it could protect the fragile bard.

“Do you two mind if I join in?”
Post #: 108
1/22/2015 17:06:26   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Questing fingers flickered over the nocks of the arrows resting in the pail, each one known by touch from the painstaking process of careful carving and fletching that had transformed the shafts from wood to arrow. Selecting an arrow, Marietta’s arm lifted, giving a swift turn of the wrist to send the oil-soaked rag through the hungry flames of the torch next to her. Her eyes had left the Nazha she had fired upon as soon as the arrow left her string. In battle an archer had no time to focus on a single foe as a swordsman might, being tasked with supporting melee fighters or protecting more vulnerable members of a group. The half-elf was familiar with the task, and her eyes leapt over the field swiftly.

Her bow rose again, creaking as she drew the arrow up, bending the oversized bow with the entire strength of her upper body and hips. The younger girl, the one dressed in the strange outfit that reminded the hunter of an old recluse she had met in an out of the way hut in Darkwald, was in some distress. Her name is Marcelline, whispered a voice in the back of Marietta’s mind, detached from the combat raging around her. The Nazha advanced on Marcelline, sword flashing as he roared. Marietta’s brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Shooting into a melee was never something she relished, and it had been years since she’d had real practice. She just had to hope that her practice and hunting skills were up to the task. Release. The greatbow thrummed again, the flaming projectile leaping from the string and whistling through the dusk at Marcelline’s opponent.

Blue eyes darted left and right, seeking another target as her right hand reached over her shoulder, drawing an arrow from the quiver on her back. The hunter’s eyes widened, and for a second she was frozen in horrified surprise as her gaze alighted on the first Nazha she had shot. The darkspawn’s cloak had gone up as if soaked in oil like her fire arrows, and yet the beast advanced on the base of the stairs, scattering the frantic guards before him, apparently unfazed by the raging inferno that consumed its concealing cloak, a sword clenched in one hand.

Wrenching her mind away from the dumbstruck horror of the scene, Marietta fired. The Nazha twisted at the hips, angling his body sidelong, watching the arrow whistle by and bury itself in the path below. The flaming hood shifted, looking away from the arrow and up at the half-elf, radiating equal parts fury and contempt. ”You shot me, little elfling. I’m going to make you pay for that.” Reaching inside his flaming garment, the Nazha drew out a long, wicked looking dagger with his off-hand, running its edge over the edge of his sword to produce a nauseatingly dissonant tone. He set foot on the first stair, stalking upwards.

Mastering herself, the hunter drew another arrow, refusing to show fear as the burning darkspawn approached. The arrow was useless. The Nazha had dodged her last shot as if she had thrown the arrow at him, rather than firing it. She had no anticipation another arrow would fare any better. At her waist hung the shamshir, but Marietta was an indifferent duelist at best, and wanted no part in being close to the burning beast. The Nazha stalked closer, ascending the stairs slowly, as if savoring what was coming. She could sense his smile beneath the conflagration of his hood, a greasy expression that promised pain and suffering.

The darkspawn set a foot upon the next stair, and suddenly Marietta realized that she was wrong. Another arrow wasn't useless. Grunting, she nocked and drew, the wolf-smile back as the Nazha’s weight shifted forward, his other leg rising into the air to take the next step up. She released, and the arrow flashed from the bow, screaming over the intervening space.

Toren had said the Nazha seemed able to look into the future. Perhaps they could, but that was not the case now. Perhaps the flame-clothed monster was too busy gloating about what was to come, but the arrow surprised him. Super-human strength and speed he might have had, but all his weight was on his planted foot, and his balance was already shifting forward. Snarling, the monster tried nonetheless to lunge aside, but physics was again against him, and the barbed shaft slammed into his left quadricep. So great was the arrow’s momentum at close range that the shaft buried itself to the fletching in his leg, the bloody head bursting out the back of the leg.

Howling, the Nazha stumbled, staggered off balance and tripping down several stairs. Marietta could feel the violent hate radiating from the darkspawn as he spat a venomous curse. ”I will FEED you that bow, elf.”

Marietta tossed her head, her braid flipping over her shoulder as she retorted with far more bravado than she felt. “Come up here and say that to my face, if you can still walk.”
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 109
1/22/2015 19:24:44   
TJByrum
Member

Ripper observed as Marietta's flaming arrow set Sakolmir alight. "Fool!" She would not pull the same move twice. The archer quickly sent another arrow hurtling towards Ripper's position but brought his decayed hand up in time to catch it before it hit before breaking it in two and throwing the burning bolt to the ground. Ripper looked around to observe the battlescene and rushed in for an opponent with his sword in hand.

Sakolmir hacked and slashed into the guards who protected the archer above him on the stairs. When his victory on them was achieved he began to savor the moment he could flay the archer-woman. He drew his dagger in his other hand and prepared for a satisfying kill. But Sakolmir was not on the better end anymore than he was when the fight first started. Another perfectly-aimed shot by Marietta buried an arrow into his leg, causing him to shriek in pain and anger. "I will FEED you that bow, elf," he exclaimed. She taunted him with bravado that was well-earned, but Sakolmir had other plans. "No need," he said to her, "I'd prefer you come down here!" Marietta's elf-senses would allow her to hear the culminating energy behind her as a dark portal opened - but could she evade the large, purple, monstrous hand that came out grasping for her?

The Lamentor watched as his inferno erupted towards Marcelline, but it never made contact. Marcelline made a saving throw: rolling over to the side and evading the flames. "Amusing little creature, you are," he continued to taunt as she drew a dagger. "You think that knife will do much to me?" She charged for him and he let loose another funneling inferno to ward the girl off, taking care to watch her dagger. But it was no dagger that made contact, only the sudden intrusion of some sort of dome-shaped weapon... an umbrella? Whatever it was, the Lamentor screeched in anger as its sharp point broke into the decayed and hollowed orb that was his head, temporarily blinding him. Black blood began to gush out of the injury despite the small puncture it made, pooling onto the ground and filling the air with a putrid stink. He used his off-hand to attempt to cover the wound and used his other hand to quickly draw his blade and began to swing in large semi-circles around his person to cut into the girl, but she had already stepped back. He was met with the heated ballistics of more of her fireballs and was unable to contain them. His cloak caught fire just as Sakolmir's had, and so now there were two Nazha. Unleashing a final shriek of anger, and finally regaining his balance and vision, the Lamentor heaved himself forward, charging for Marcelline - intending to set her alight with his own body.

Over towards the inn, as Gorst headed off in its direction, he began to sense a mix of elemental magic mixed with the familiar Nazha magic. It was... peculiar. He skidded to a halt once more, turned to face the Queen of Illusions and held his hand up to produce a barrier. He could feel his bony feet grinding on the ground below as the magic was directed around his person. This was going to require more attention. Gorst watched as the vampire called forth a creature to fight him. "Better to deal with this petty mockery of a vampire now," he said, completely focused on what appeared to be some sort of wyvern.

It didn't matter how many times Sera tried, Frail just continued to deflect and counter her blows. Noticing a weak-spot in her defense, he exploited the opportunity and managed to slice a nice cut into her arm. All of a sudden he could see Kitsondra call forth a great wyvern! "Brother!" Frail locked blades with Sera once more and shoved with all his might, sending her tumbling back before turning to charge for the wyvern as well.

The wyvern swung its tails, struck the ground, took the skies, and continued to try its best to destroy the dark beings. Gorst knew it would be fruitless, effortless, and time-consuming to deal with this creature. that's when he noticed the approach "To the roofs, Frail, take him to the roofs." Using their enhanced agility, the two dark beings launched themselves into the air, out of harms way of the wyvern's path, and landed safely on the roofs, spreading out and attempting to have the beast rampage the inn and the buildings next to it.

Meanwhile, Jagger had an issue dealing the sudden and surprising assault made by Kenet. His mashed shoulder did not help the situation, but Jagger did manage to fight back against the assailant. "The Wanderer," Jagger said before he launched forward with his wicked saw-tooth blade. Jagger would attempt to use his agility and awareness to outmaneuver the crushingly strong being. But Jagger need not worry to much about the Wanderer, as he could see Ripper already adapting to the situation.

"Anchor the Wanderer, anchor him now!" Ripper's command was cast out in a harsh, scratchy yell as he raised his hand and pointed it at Kenet. Jagger did not hesitate to distance himself and held his hand up, knowing that Ripper's plan would no doubt be effective. Almost simultaneously, before Kenet could act, two portals appeared on either side of Kenet. From both portals came two chains made of some dark energy, wrapping themselves around Kenet's arms and holding him in place. Not even the being's strength could overcome these chains, as pulling one way caused the other chain to pull him the other way.



Toren coughed up mud, dirt, and blood as he rolled over to his side. A thick, acrid, black smoke filled the air and made it hard to breath. His Nazha powers receded as he took on a weakened, mortal state. The explosion dazed him, left him vulnerable. He made out the silhouette of the Master walking his way, ready to execute the fallen warrior. "Heroes rise and fall, but the Nazha are forever." Toren reached for his sword but the Master kicked it away. "You are but a mere man, not worthy of the title you once carried."

Toren recalled the ancient words passed onto him by an old friend. The voice of a northern warrior, Toric Valgard, echoed through his mind: "I know the task I give you is great, but if you fail, speak the words: vol amar, Sidonis." "Vol amar... Sidonis..." Toren let out a final breath... and was gone. The Master's blade pierced naught but empty armor, fabric, and the burning earth beneath.

Hissing in a somewhat failed and worried tone, the Master said to himself "... Sidonis?"
DF AQW  Post #: 110
1/22/2015 20:55:03   
Draycos777
Member

Kitsondra waited on Sera's answer to her proposal as her wyvern attacked the two Nazha on the spell's auto-pilot. After a minute, in which Sera no doubt mulled the pros and cons in her head, she answered. "All right, I'm in."

Kitsondra smiled. "Good, let us crush these 'Nazha' then." She was about to turn and face them again when a familiar voice spoke to her side.

“Do you two mind if I join in?”

Turning her head to the voice, Kitsondra noticed the bard, Symphony with a golden knight in front of her. Before she could say a word to the bard, Kitsondra noticed the the area behind her had gotten unusually bright.

"Wasn't that where Marcelline was fighting at?"

Quickly turning around, Kitsondra saw that another of the Nazha had become a living lantern. This one, however, was aiming to make Marcelline join in with it's own body. Kitsondra clenched her teeth. She had to deal with this now or else the girl would be in serious trouble. The spell she had cast on her might not even be enough. Turning back around to the bard, Kitsondra answered her.

"No you're fine. In fact, I need you to keep those two on the roof from entering the Inn. Can you and your knight do that?"

For some reason or another the two Nazha had decided to jump onto the roof while dodging the wyvern's attacks. It didn't matter now. They were no longer the wyvern's top priority right now. Without waiting for the bard's answer, Kitsondra used her magic to make another blast of compressed magic at the two Nazha on the roof. After distracting them with five attacks, she let her magic flow into the creature and established a connection with it. Her thoughts entering it's head.

"Protect the girl." A picture of Marcelline invaded the wyvern's head as Kitsondra's order was given. Turning around the wyvern seemed to ignore the two Nazha it had been fighting and took to the sky again.

The Nazha are said to know what will happen in the near future, but even so it was still not enough to avoid a near unavoidable outcome. As the Nazha that was lit on fire chased Marcelline, the Wyvern appeared from the sky and dropped down behind the girl. The Nazha had already started to move out of the way thanks to it's gift, but even with all of it's speed the recent injuries it had received caused a chain reaction that dedicated that the Nazha receive one more injury. With a mighty shriek, the wyvern rocketed it's tail it a sweep against the Nazha. The difference in speed making contact with the monster's side sending it rolling away from the girl at an impressive speed. The Nazha had been put out by the enough of rolling, but had also broken or fractured some of the bones in the area of impact. While the Nazha got back up, the wyvern stepped in front of the girl and stared it down. Waves of hate rolled off both creatures as they locked eyes. Both had orders to fight, tooth and claw to the death and neither one was about to back down. "Come, you hallow-shelled puppet! I'll rind, tear you apart, layer by layer! Until not even the magical residue is left over!" The Nazha throw out an insult at the beast as it charged roaring at the Nazha.

Hopefully this will be over quick. Kitsondra was deviating greatly from her plan already, and it had only been a minute! Turning around, she checked on the two that where on the roof. Only there was one on the roof now. The other Nazha, the one who had first tried to split and enter the Inn, was back on the ground and headed straight for them. No, looking closer, Kitsondra noticed that it was headed for her instead. Had the Nazha realized she was controlling the beast?

"Damn it! What a lousy time for you to notice now!"

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 1/22/2015 22:20:26 >
AQ  Post #: 111
1/22/2015 22:11:28   
Master K
Member

The Nazha was now an ungodly mixture of darkness and incandescent flames, and was charging directly at her. Watching the furious creature stampede at her, Marcelline tried to will herself to move out of the way. Before she could even react or let loose a snidely polite comment, Kitsondra's wyvern had come to her aid, backing her up. With a graceful sweep, the angry fireball of a creature was sent, swept away.

"Back up is always welcome..." Marcelline thought to herself, smiling at the wyvern and Kitsondra.

Marcelline could feel the venom between the two creatures as they stood each other off. "Come, you hallow-shelled puppet! I'll rind tear you apart, layer by layer! Until not even the magical residue is left over!" it shouted at the illusionary beast. As it charged to strike the wyvern, Marcelline knew that this creature, though sturdy looking, couldn't possibly hold up against a physical opponent. She herself had to act now while the Nazha was pre-occupied.

Gripping her umbrella with both hands, and her dagger slipped in one hand at the same time, she charged towards the oncoming Nazha. Though intently focused on the wyvern, it gave some heed to Marcelline, with seething rage in its words.

"That pathetic parasol that you call a weapon will fool me no longer!"

"I know." Marcelline said, with a slight laugh.

As it charged, it prepared to deflect the two handed spearing motion of the umbrella. Sadly, this wasn't Marcelline's plan all along. At the last moment, before impact, she swapped out her umbrella for her dagger. She leaped up slightly, bracing her feet onto the lower portion of the Nazha, and grabbing on to the chest area of the Nazha with her free hand. With the force of their collision driving her, she brought down her dagger and aimed to drive it into the Nazha's skull.
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 112
1/23/2015 11:35:01   
Bastet
Member

Kitsondra was distracted by the show of something being on fire and running, though it looked vaguely like a humanoid figure, and took a while to give the bard an answer.

Perhaps someone has been ingenuous enough to find a way to set one of the Nazha on fire?

Symphony didn’t give much attention to this thought, as the spirit had much more pressing matters to attend to. Especially when the vampire finally resolved herself to give them a direction.

"No, you're fine. In fact, I need you to keep those two on the roof from entering the Inn. Can you and your knight do that?"

Symphony acted immediately upon hearing those words, seeing as Kitsondra was already busy with her own Nazha. Two opponents were going to be tough to defeat, but the vampire was nice enough to momentarily distract the darkspawn by using some kind of technique to harass the two on the roof of the Inn. Without wasting time, the bard moved at a brisk pace towards the Inn. They had to play their guitar as fast as they could while moving, to make sure the warrior wouldn’t fall behind with its movements. It was only as agile as Symphony was skilled with their instrument. The musician took great care to stay out of the battlefield below the Inn, and went looking for a way to reach the Nazha they had to target. They were relieved to see one jump off the roof and go after the vampire in an enraged fashion.

Symphony knew that the entrance to the Inn was barricaded, and didn’t waste their time trying to break it down. An alternative entrance had to be found, and the duo couldn’t hope to replicate the the Nazhas’ maneuvers. Symphony and their knight went around the building as quickly as they could, and, by pure chance, they found a stack of objects along with a cart that they could climb on.

By the time they got on the same level the Nazha were on before, they could hear the sound of a window being broken. Symphony was beginning to feel tired even before the battle had truly begun for them, maintaining the knight required a great deal of concentration and energy. They found the window the intruding Nazha had broken through, and took a few moments to carefully move themselves inside.

The intruder had left a mess of the room, but the bard paid no attention to what was left intact. It probably wasn’t the vampire’s room, considering they could feel no kind of magic around them but the stink the Nazha carried with themselves.

As Symphony and their knight exited the room and looked through the hallway, they found themselves on the far end of it, opposite from the stairs. Looking further, they saw the missing Nazha searching through the rooms for the one they had come looking for. Symphony wasted no time and sent the warrior after the creature, confident that the hallway would provide them with an advantage. This advantage was offset by the fact that the bard had no way to put a restrain on the Nazha’s movement, they couldn’t stop them from kidnapping the girl simply by themselves.

Before the pike could lodge its point into the back of the Nazha, it quickly turned around and stopped the point by grabbing it with its bare hands. Symphony immediately broke their warrior free of the grab and made the knight retract the spear before they could find out if an immaterial pike could be broken or not. The golden warrior assumed a fighting stance, and prepared to keep the one Nazha busy.

The one that had stopped the pike extracted his weapon and prepared to engage even if the bard had a large advantage, since the hallway was too tight to properly maneuver around. A problem that didn’t impact the effectiveness of a weapon such as a pike. The fighting Nazha advanced nonetheless, determined to get rid of the nuisance that had interrupted him.

Symphony sighed and prepared to battle as best as they could, though they couldn’t stop the Nazha’s attempt to capture his target if Lily was downstairs.

< Message edited by Bastet -- 1/23/2015 12:43:23 >
Post #: 113
1/23/2015 12:47:35   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 This. Was not the plan.

That was all the annoyance Sera had time for as the plan she had agreed to went up in flames. Literally, it appeared looking towards the source of Kitsondra's distraction.

Realizing that the original plan was shattered, probably beyond repair, she looked for another target to fight.

Two of the Nazha had bound the one who walked strangely. It looked like he was in need of help. She was fairly far away, but if she moved quickly, she could probably at least work on freeing him. Distract a Nazha on the chains and they should let go.

Sera had started to move towards that direction when a scream from the wyvern caused her to glance back, more out of curiosity than anything.

One of the Nazha was moving. Towards Kitsdondra, and that intent to kill would have been obvious to a blind man.

Sera glanced back and forth between Kenet and Kitsondra. The Nazha going towards the broker was moving quickly, and she had already implied that she was relatively vulnerable while controlling the wyvern. Kenet, on the other hand, was fairly safe. Not in a comfortable position by any means, but there wasn't much she could do for him.

She allowed herself only a moment to sigh in frustration. She wanted nothing to do with the broker. So why were the gods intent on forcing her to deal directly with the woman?

Moment of irritation indulged in, Sera moved. She ran in a slight arc, intending to find a path that put her directly in the Nazha's way, one that was easily found.

The Nazha was perhaps two feet away from Kitsondra when Sera put on a final burst of speed and brought her sword up to clash loudly with it. Huh. She was pretty sure this was the one who had gotten her shoulder. Perhaps she could repay the favor.

But not this second. The way she had approached the Nazha meant that she was forced on the defensive, and it took all the fancy footwork swordplay sometimes required to keep her balance and remain in front of the Nazha and still behind her sword as stopping her forward momentum and engaging in battle wasn't easy. Still doable, but it required a bit more quick thinking.

"Kitsondra owes me for this," Sera decided as she had to quickly bring a throwing knife to hand for the second time to act as a shield against the Nazha's blade. Twirling it in her hand, she brought it from flat to ready to throw and released it. At such close quarters, the blade wouldn't do much, but it served as a distraction, which was all she needed to find a better stance, shifting her blade slightly in her hand as she took it.

"Hi, princess. Remember me?"
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 114
1/23/2015 17:10:13   
Legendium
Member

Heinrich had decided to join Toren's little band of warriors, thieves and wizards to fend off the demons known as Nazha. But first he had reported back to his Caroline to tell them to stay inside in the cellar and not come out at any cost. They had already been told by the head of guards; Caroline's husband, Gerald, was a guard himself after all, and thus Heinrich left the house with Gerald accompanying him, after having explained the nature of the Nazha to Caroline and why he had taken so long at the inn. He did not, however, reveal the nature of Kitsondra; he had more to learn about the vampire, and having its secret spilled wasn't going to help him in any way. Thus he had made up the half-lie of having a lengthy discussion with an old friend from the north.

Now Heinrich stood on the wall of Blackwater, his crossbow loaded with a cold iron bolt. Where silver could damage werewolves and stakes vampires, demons were said to vulnerable to cold iron. Now would be a good time to test that myth, provided the Nazha were demons. His particular iron bolt wasn't very cold; but the iron was from a mine in the very far north of Friesland, so perhaps it still counted as "cold" anyways. Heinrich didn't dwell too much on it; he was probably going to miss anyways.

Standing between the ranks of the archer guards, he waited. Having been one of the last to join the group, he didn't have long to wait.

"Jugar, nul valar!"

The hellish cry thundered from the forest moments before the Nazha came bursting out of the fog in a wedge formation. Like a scene from a nightmare, the image of the Nazha charging from the fog would be forever imprinted in his mind. Black cloaks billowing out behind them, swords drawn out, and the smell of pure hatred pouring from them like water was enough to make anyone step back in fear. All they needed now were torches and flaming chains and the image would be complete.

"They're here," Toren called out to his group. "Prepare yourselves, and may the Gods have mercy on your soul." The phrase was fairly simple; Heinrich got the gist of it.

He issued a command to the guards below to open the gates and engage the enemy. Heinrich wanted to tell him not to, to tell them to run and hide; but his language barrier prevented him from being able to communicate with anyone but Gerald. "Stay up here" he said to Caroline's husband. "And out of harm's way. Take shots at them while I fence with them." The man was frightened; but he was related to a van Hjaalreich, and even their distant relations inherited their stalwartness and calm in the face of danger.

Just as he was saying this, the guards below opened the gates, and Toren leaped out to run towards the advancing group. The Nazha at the head of the group said something Heinrich didn't quite understand, but now was no longer the time for words.

The Nazha had vaulted over the wall. Heinrich almost drew his sword until he realized the loaded crossbow in his hands. Taking aim at one of the falling Nazha, he took the shot.

And missed. The bolt merely whizzed over it, hitting nothing. Tossing his crossbow to the side, Heinrich leapt down to the ground from the wall.

The fight was unfolding quickly. The vampire and bounty hunter had both targeted the two Nazha headed towards the inn. Closer at hand, he saw one of the demons been shot by a flaming arrow and another was being assaulted by the little witch-girl. The oily-bone smelling man was busy attacking another Nazha. The spirit was headed to help the vampire. It was time he joined. Singling in on the nearest Nazha, he drew his sword. It immediately warmed in his hand, but Heinrich was used to that by now.


Heinrich tried to land an upper-hand cut on the Nazha, counter-blocking as quickly as the beast dodged away and came back in its own counter. The fight continued on like this, swords swinging left and right, up and down, both sides of the party dodging and tumbling to the ground only to spring back up again. Heinrich was loving it. It had been too long since he had fought an opponent with a true sword. To cross blades was to dance. Each strike had a corresponding counter, and one move led to another. Left, right, grab the sword by the blade and advance inside his reach where his sword is useless, slash down as he dodges back, dodge the counter-attack, counter the counter, feint above and strike below, clash swords and draw them down to the hilt, choke him around the neck and be thrown off seconds later, swipe his feet from under him and get back up yourself, try to fracture his skull with the pommel of your sword…

Heinrich was invigorated. Never before had he been matched in his skills with a sword. Neither of them could even nick the other; the Nazha could tell what his next move was, and Heinrich was experienced enough to realize the counters of his own moves and avoid outright killing blows. No, Heinrich needed outside help. Either he needed to be shot with magic so he could add his own spells to the mix, or he needed an additional swordsman. Or at least that the other Nazha were distracted. Given time, he was certain that he could find a strategy to defeat this Nazha with naught but a sword - But so far all the immediate plans involved magic.

"Sorlan!" Heinrich shouted to the only man he could communicate to here. "Shoot me with some magic!" He didn't realize how bizarre the sentence must have sounded until it left his mouth.

Unfortunately, saying those words took a toll on his concentration, and the Nazha he was dueling took an opportunity to strike at his sword hand. Heinrich just barely deflected the blade by grabbing it with his dead black hand. The magic made the pain very real, and his nerves all along his left arm felt like they had caught fire, but as the hand was already dead, no permanent damage was done. Getting over the pain and yanking the sword (And thus the Nazha) his way, he slammed his head into the Nazha's skull - Apparently they didn't reckon with stupid instincts like grabbing a sword the wrong way. That could prove a potential strategy, if it weren't for Heinrich's stigma against spontaneity…
DF MQ Epic  Post #: 115
1/23/2015 19:43:36   
black knight 1234567
Member

Toren's little band of misfits was all but complete, save for Sorlan. He arrives at the gates, only to watch the panic, more importantly, genuine fear that crawled under everyone's skin. The guards ran and fumbled around, trying to make some sort of defensible stand.
They know they're not going to make it. the hunter kept his thoughts to himself, he knew what delaying the inevitable felt like, what a hopeless defense, a lie they told themselves felt like, and he had no interest of adding unto the tension in the air.

''They're here'' a ragged voice said, ''Prepare yourselves, and may the Gods have mercy on your soul''.

And it was that at that very moment that the cry of battle was heard, the Nazha were here, their steads letting of a roar of their own with each and every step they took. But they wouldn't settle for convential warfare, no.
For when the enemy jumped over the gate as if it was child's play, a strange mix of regret and excitement washed over the hunter for hire. Regret for agreeing to a fool's mission, and excitement to test his mettle once more against a force perceived as invincible. It was the latter that took control of him as he pulled his blade from its scabbard.

The Nazha moved with devlish speed, two of them ran for the inn, no doubt for the girl Toren was keeping company, only to be soon followed by that wretch Kitsondra and the enigmatic bounty hunter Sera, the rest stood their ground and engaged the group, with Toren locking blades with the one in the center, their moved in perfect sync almost as if each could read the other's mind, lips were moving but Sorlan's mind was far too focused on other things, much like the rest of the group who engaged hell's own elite. An arrow whizzed by, shot from an unknown source lighting one of them on fire, while the girl in the unorthodox outfit was taking part of the fight on the ground, all while the covered up fellow was busy smashing another with his gigantic weapon.

Therin wasn't going to sit out the action, either. Immedietely he rushed the nearest Nazha, his overhead swing met with a demonic blade's block as he stared into the sheer void framed by their elongated black cloaks, before pushing back the blade. Sorlan was in another state of mind now, he became one with his weapon, almost as if it was an extension of his very being. He took another swing only to be met by a precise dodge that would put the Nazha at an advantage, only for Sorlan to anticipate that dodge and then to have the creature anticipate his very own dodge. Each and every slash, swing and stab the monster hunter tried to land was meticiously calculated only to be countered by the same pin point precision. Monsters are often defeated by discovering a pattern, a weakness. The Nazha had none.

But it wasn't only Sorlan's swordsmanship that made him into the hunter that he was, it was his magic. In the flurry of battle, he flung his hand at the beast, a bright ray of incandescent light bursting through the darkness, and for the first time, he saw it flinch, almost as if it was actually hurt by something
But Sorlan's offense was stopped, he heard his name being cried out as he turned to see his fellow monster slayer, Heinrich, in the thick of battle.

''Shoot me with some magic!'' he demanded.

''What in the bloody hell does that mean?!''
No time to think however, molten fire formed within his hands as he threw the concentrated energy in Heinrich's direction, but this was not without cost, for soon he found the blade of the very same Nazha he blinded a minute ago headed straight for him, he flung his sword back to block, being mere inches away from his face, but the sheer force behind the blade compromised him, forcing him unto his knees before he flung the the blade back with all his strength, falling unto the ground in the process.
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 116
1/23/2015 20:22:25   
TJByrum
Member

Orpheus VS Heinrich...
Orpheus' opponent was Heinrich, some warrior who was well-trained and managed to hold his own against the vicious onslaught of Orpheus attacks. Without his premonitions, Henrich may have well defeated Orpheus, but it would take more than sword-play to outdo the Nazha. He hacked ans slashed, cut wide-arcs, and came down with crushing blows, but it never once broke Heinrich's defenses. Soon the man called out to one of his allies. That! It was an opportunity! Orpheus drove his blade straight towards Heinrich's gut but was met by the surprise deflection of his strange hand. It didn't matter, as Orpheus knew his dark magic was already coursing through Heinrich's nerves by now. The man pulled the sword away from the Nazha, causing him to fly forth. His skull knocked into Heinrich's head and both fighters entered a dazed state. Not going to waste time, Orpheus played along: reeling back, he slammed his head even harder into Heinrich's head.



The Pharaoh VS Sorlan...

The Pharaoh grinned as some fool human moved in for the kill. Drawing his sword, the two combatants locked into a duel. The Pharaoh, had he not been so ignorant, would have called this man a worthy fighter, but he let his pride get the better of him. The Pharaoh had been a god! This 'Sorlan' would not defeat him! All of a sudden a bright ray of light blasted from Sorlan's hand. Rendering him blind for a split second, the Pharaoh shifted his stance in case an attack came through, but none came through.

Sorlan was more occupied on assisting his friend across the ways. Orpheus had Henrich occupied and the man could not hope to stand against him for to long. The Pharaoh took this opportunity to strike at Sorlan, knocking him to the ground and moving in for the execution.



The Lamentor VS Marcelline...
As the flaming Lamentor charged for Marcelline, it was hit by the tail of the wyvern, sending him flying to the side and cracking a number of his bones. He stood back up and faced the mighty beast, still in flames. "Come, you hallow-shelled puppet! I'll rind, tear you apart, layer by layer! Until not even the magical residue is left over!" He'd have called upon the powers of the Nazha, but the injuries he had sustained would need that reservation of magic later. There was no time to use his magic now; this problem would need to be dealt with using a sword. He focused on the wyvern, trying to figure out its movements and what it would do next. But that was most peculiar; it didn't have a 'future' to foresee; it was almost as if there was nothing there to 'sense'. Kitsondra, the Lamentor thought, the Queen of Illusions... "Fools!" The Lamentor ignored his previous thoughts of conserving magic. This beast was a mere illusion! It could be ended here and now, and the Lamentor was determined to kill it with a single mind sweep. Conjuring the bulk of his injury within his mind, he sent a powerful mental blast into the apparent wyvern, completely disrupting the illusion magic that kept it within existence, and transferring that same mental blast into Kitsondra's head. Unfortunately for the Lamentor, however, this consumed his magical energy and his wounds would not be healing any time soon.

Soon after, Marcellina charged for the Nazha again. Her umbrella had already injured him, and he would not let it happen again. "That pathetic parasol that you call a weapon will fool me no longer!"

"I know," the woman said as her umbrella became the least of the Lamentor's problems. In an instant a dagger found itself buried into the Lamentor's skull. To many injuries, to many distractions, and not enough magic. With a ear-piercing shriek and blood-curdling yell the Lamentor began to shake and jerk around, collapsing to his knees and erupting in a tiny explosion that sent Marcelline tumbling back a few feet. The aftermath of the event left nothing but a tattered, smoking black cloak.


Gorst VS Kitsondra and Sera...

Gorst charged for Kitsondra. She was controlling the beast... but now something was definitely apparent: the Lamentor realized the wyvern was an illusion and had dissipated it within a moment's notice. This was good news for the other Nazha, but the Lamentor would not last long now. Fool! The only thing Gorst could do now would be to attack Kitsondra and keep her occupied so the Queen of Illusions could cause no more problems. He kept a steady eye on the Lamentor, watching as Marcelline once again tricked him - but this making contact with a dagger. Within seconds the Lamentor was no more - only his tattered apparel remained. No love lost, Gorst thought to himself as he raised his blade at Kitsondra...

Within moments before his blade could make contact, Sera intervened. Locking blades with her, Gorst decided he would need to deal with two targets. Fortunately, Ripper and Jagger still had Kenet under control. Sera tossed a close-range dagger at the Nazha and it made contact on his shoulder, embedding itself into the decayed skin but not breaking through the bone. "Ha!" Parrying one of Sera's attacks, Gorst drew the throwing knife from his shoulder and began to use it in his off-hand - something that would prove useful in fighting two opponents.



Frail VS Symphony and the Knight...

Wyvern? Gone! The Queen? Distracted! The Lamentor? Gone!

Frail was somewhat pleased by how the battle was going. The Queen of Illusions had proved to be a tough challenge, and the Lamentor himself was even killed the combined assault of both her and Marcelline. In a way, the Lamentor's death was somewhat pleasurable, but it was never good to see an ally being killed. It didn't matter right now though, all that mattered was the mission, and that was finding the virgin.

Leaping off the roof and grabbing the edge of the shingles, Frail vaulted himself through one of the windows of the inn, thrashing about in the room to find where the girl was hiding. "Come out, girl! Let me show you the hands I cut off your brother!" At that moment Frail began to sense a specific sort of magic. He quickly turned his body and caught a pike coming for him wit his bare-hands. It was some sort of knight, one he had not seen in the battle outside. Without hesitation, Frail drew his blade and began to combat the knight. Even with his combat-premonition, Frail found the knight hard to deal with, as he could not really 'sense' what it was doing; it was like he wasn't even there. Nevertheless, the knight would have his own share of problems, as the Nazha were known to be great warriors nonetheless.



The Master...

Wherever Toren went, he was not anywhere nearby. His armor, sword, and cloak was all that was left behind. Sidonis... the name echoed through the Master's mind. Perhaps Toren had been teleported away, saved by Sidonis. If that was the case, the two would meet again in the next War of the Lords.

That didn't matter now. Any threat Toren posed was gone now, and Lily remained within the town. Calling upon his dark powers and sheathing his blade, the Master sprouted two large, fearsome dragon-like wings that seemed to be composed of nothing but darkness. With a single flap of both wings he lifted off the ground, and continued flapping to gain altitude. He drove forward, flying himself over the battle down below. Toren's allies had tied the Nazha up, but it was a perfect distraction for the Master. Coming to a rumbling landing atop the inn, the Master blasted a large gaping hole through the roof with his magic and dropped down inside.

"No!" Lily cried out and scrambled back with Sloan and other townspeople. "S-s-stay away from me!"

"Your guardian left you, girl! No one can save you now!"

The Master dashed across the room like a shadow, clutching the girl by the arm. Sloan tried to intervene but was knocked aside by a powerful swing of the Master's arm. With one mighty leap the Master burst through the roof, knocking a second hole in the ceiling, Lily in tow.

"Aaaahhh!" Lily cried out and yelled in horror and fear! She was being carried across the town, through the air, and at such quick speeds! The wind rushed through her hair as they flew through the night-sky and towards the woods...
DF AQW  Post #: 117
1/24/2015 15:53:43   
Draycos777
Member

The world spun around as the Nazha sent a blast of magic at the wyvern, forcefully cutting of Kitsondra connection to it and destroying the spell at the same time. Kitsondra fell to her knees as the beast roared then disappeared, fading into nothingness. She was able to hold out her arms before ending up collapsing head-first into the ground. Her ears rung and it blood ran from her nose and dripped onto the dirt. The other Nazha should have caught up to her by now, but nothing happened as she watched the dirt tilt up and down. Sera must have dealt with it then. As her vision started to readjust itself, Kitsondra laughed inwardly.

"Pain...pain!? How long has it been since I've last felt this way!? Is this the extent of what they can do? Or can they make me fight even harder? I want to know more, I want to feel more!"

She was beginning to enjoy this battle. Placing her left hand over her face to make sure no one could see her eyes. If they were starting to glow, it would be annoying to explain why in front of everyone. Everything was starting to fade from Kitsondra's mind. She could hear a blood-curdling scream, probably the Nazha Marcelline tried to stab in the skull, but it didn't matter. The only thing that matter was the Nazha Sera was fighting. After a while, Kitsondra stood up, wobbling a bit before regaining her balance. Speaking to Sera, Kitsondra voice gain and accent that she had learning to hid for a long time, but the sudden excitement brought up a fragment of the old Central Plains voice.

"Oi Sera, thank you for the assist, but could you step back for a moment? I don't want you to get caught in the cross-fire and if you don't move I can't guarantee your safety."

The Nazha stepped back from fighting Sera at the arrival of Kitsondra, and used the powers Nazha to sense what the Queen of Illusions would to next. However, what he saw was simply a foolish charge at him. Sure enough Kitsondra, while fast, only charged at him.

"Fool," The Nazha countered the gauntlet hand reaching for it's neck with the knife it had gained from Sera and ran it's sword through the Queen. "it'll take more then a simple charge to catch me."

"I know."

The vampire queen in front of the Nazha had suddenly disappeared into thin air! But how? Had he misread her movements! No, that wasn't possible. Then what happened? Appearing behind the Nazha, Kitsondra grabbed it's sword hand by the wrist and the back of it's neck. Stepping on it's back with her right foot, Kitsondra forced the Nazha into an up-right fetal position; it's face into the ground.

"I see your confused, so allow me to explain. You read my movements correctly, but thanks to the mental attack you friend gave me, a spell that I had placed on myself before the battle began activated. What you attacked was nothing more then an after image. You were to busy looking at an illusion, that you didn't notice me speed up and failed to adjust your own attack accordingly."

Letting go of the Nazha's neck, Kitsondra placed the weight of her body on the foot resting itself firmly on the Nazha's back. Moving the Nazha's sword arm further and further to the left until she could hear a popping sound, Kitsondra gave a wicked grin.

"Tell me, how do you plan on getting out of this situation? Will you use magic to heal yourself? But then you wouldn't be able to attack. But if you don't use your magic to attack can you break free? You have enhanced strength, ah, but we're evenly matched in that area aren't we?" The Nazha was silent, refusing to give into Kitsondra's taunting. But this only spurred her on more. "are you afraid to use your magic against me? Unsure as to whether or not it'll effect me since I redirected your friend's attack?"

Kitsondra was buffing of course. She hadn't redirected the attack, merely used it to finish her spell quicker. However, even like this, Kitsondra was no fool. It the event the Nazha was going to use magic against her, Kitsondra started another spell. Not anywhere near the level of the wyvern, but strong enough to take away to cast. She was going to pick apart this Nazha mentally piece by piece.

"Well? What are you going to do?" Kitsondra twisted the Nazha's hand backwards until she heard a snap. Even with a broken hand the creature still held on to it's sword. "Hoh? How lively, but, if you don't hurry you'll lose consciousness from the pain. Well, that's if pain works the same for you. If not, then we'll get to play for even longer."

The Nazha started to maneuver the arm that still had the knife, in an attempt to stab Kitsondra's leg. However, Kitsondra free foot kicked into the Nazha's elbow temporarily stopping it's movement and she then used that split second to slam her foot into the Nazha's shoulder, digging the tip into the clock and skin until she drew blood.

"We can't have that now. Iie, I want you to use magic to escape." Kitsondra began to laugh and her eyes began to slit for a second or two before returning to normal. "Ehhehe, or you could beg." Kitsondra clucked as the Nazha remained silent. "What wrong? Are you to proud? Is the thought of a Nazha begging to such a lowly person such as myself that humiliating? I might be willing to let you go if you simply beg me for your life." Kitsondra frowned slightly. "This can't be it can it? The limit of what your able to do. Is injuring me with a mental blast the best you lot could come up with." Kitsondra flashed another wicked smile at the Nazha's sudden twitch. Had her words finally gotten to it? Or was it succumbing to the injuries?

"Well? I'm waiting for your next move." Kitsondra started to move the Nazha's arm further to the left again.

"Escape my grasp! I know that you can do it. Don't disappoint me, break free! Attack me again, try and injury me once more! Let me fight harder, let me experience that feeling again. Let me feel that which I've forgotten. Let me feel human again!"

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 1/24/2015 20:05:23 >
AQ  Post #: 118
1/24/2015 16:22:40   
Bastet
Member

It wasn’t long before Symphony’s musical fight broke down to a stalemate. The Nazha had no way of reaching the bard with his weapon and couldn’t predict the Warrior’s movements because of its very nature, but neither could the musician find a way to push the Nazha back. The spirit quickly realized that they were just waiting their energy, and the Nazha would have eventually overtaken them; it fought in a relentlessly aggressive manner. As long as the sparring was carried out on purely physical levels, the tight hallway momentarily prevented one of the two from prevailing over the other.

Symphony was feeling truly tired for the first time since they had come to be; they had never been interested in fighting. They lived the life of a wandering bard, and rarely ever needed to fight with anybody. The golden knight’s figure eventually began fading as Symphony’s fingers slowed down, but the bard realized that they no longer had a purpose fighting with their opponent when another one of the dark creatures broke through the top of the Inn.

There was a brief commotion, but not long after the Nazha flew from whence he came with his prize. A few words escaped the bard’s mouth, the first to do so since they had offered themselves to help the vampire in repealing the Nazha from the village.

“Lily… no…”

Symphony was distracted enough by the event that they didn’t notice Frail using only one hand to fight. In the other, he was charging a spell powerful enough that only dust would’ve been left of the bard if they were hit by it. Unfortunately for the Nazha, Symphony already planned to abandon the duel. The musician detected the Nazha’s magic just as it was about to fire off, and used it to exit the fight.

Just as the dark creature’s barrage was fired from his spell-casting hand, Symphony disconnected the ties to their warrior. As the hallway was ravaged by a torrent of pure magic, the golden figure faded into thin air. The bard immediately side-stepped into the same room they had entered the Inn from, and followed the path opposite to the one they had used to bring themselves inside the Inn.

Symphony had no idea if the Nazha was behind them or if it was confused as to where his opponent had gone, but they didn’t care. They had to find the allies closest to them and communicate the news of their failure. The musician made their way to the last place they had seen the Vampire, gasping from the exhaustion. Fighting against the Nazha had taken a large toll on their magic reserves, and they would’ve been vulnerable had anybody decided to duel them again.

Fortunately, the Queen of Illusions was where they had previously left her, looking like she had managed to take over the Nazha that had chosen not to pursue Lily. Symphony ran until they were within ear-shot, and hoped that they wouldn’t provide the Nazha with a free strike by distracting one of his opponents. The spirit kneeled down and leaned against one of a house’s walls, and tried to speak with as clear a voice as they could muster.

“Kitsondra, we have failed… One of the Nazha is flying away with the girl.”

Symphony quickly checked their surroundings and slowly stood up again, preparing to exit the battlefield. They had served their purpose as best as they could, but failed nonetheless.
Post #: 119
1/24/2015 19:45:22   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta had a moment, while the Nazha tumbled down the stairs, to cast a glance around and take in the progress of the battle. She had been distracted from such observations while engaged with the darkspawn, and perhaps that had been a good thing. The roars, howls, screamed imprecations, and clangor of the fight were painful to her ears, and the sights were disorienting. A wyvern, one of the other defenders bound by dark chains. The town seemed to have gone mad.

More distressing to the hunter, however, was the sight of the litter of dead and wounded guards scattered across the battlefield. While Toren’s volunteers, herself included, were holding their own to a degree against the Nazha, the guards were faring poorly. She was not friends with most of them, and many were irksome to her, but they were her neighbors, the people she had lived with for years.

”No need,” the hunter’s gaze snapped back to the monster as he spoke, ”I’d prefer you come down here!” The half-elf was moving even as the words left the darkspawn’s mouth. Her ears tingled as a wave of sick, greasy magic washed over her from behind. Side-stepping rapidly, Marietta whirled, whipping an arrow from her quiver and loosing instinctively.

Buzzing from the bow like a malignant wasp, the arrow buried itself in the oversized palm of a scabrous purple hand that clawed at her from an inky black portal. The hand gave no indication that the prick of the dart was at all distressing to it, swiping at the hunter. Marietta danced nimbly away, cursing. Magic was not something she could deal with effectively, short of slaying the spellcaster, and that was proving troublesome. The half-elf bobbed and weaved, slipping aside and hopping over the magical appendage’s attempts to snare her. She could have screamed in frustration, dodging frantically as the Nazha laughed from his place at the base of the stairs, swatting a guard aside with casual disdain.

She couldn't keep it up forever. There was limited space to work with on the parapet, and Marietta could tell that the Nazha was toying with her. He tired of it swiftly, and the hunter grunted as the gruesome thing latched onto her, twisting and wrenching her backwards and through the tarry portal. Marietta gasped, displaced through space with a dreadful feeling of cold, slimy compression, as though she was being forced through a fetid swamp, emerging on her back with the Nazha standing over her, naked blades in hand.

He smiled, an expression as black as the death of hope. ”Do you have any last words, elfling?”

Marietta looked up at the darkspawn, the remnants of his cloak guttering and falling to ash about him, revealing a scant few scorches on the skin beneath. Her expression was serene, accepting. She had prepared herself for this day along time ago. “This, too, shall pass.”

The Nazha snarled, about to retort, when a shadow rose up behind him. Wicke slammed into the Nazha with a cry, driving a broken blade into the monster’s back. The darkspawn roared, whirling and slamming the dagger in his offhand into the guard’s chest.

“Wicke, no!” The hunter shouted, firing awkwardly from her prone position, scrabbling at her quiver for another arrow.

The arrow hammered into the Nazha’s shoulder, staggering him backwards and halfway around. Hurling Wicke’s corpse aside, his knife still buried in the dead guard’s chest, the darkspawn reached across his body, snapping the arrow shaft off and throwing it aside. ”Useless,” he purred, transferring his blade to his offhand and rolling his wounded shoulder. He looked down at Marietta, sneering his cold, contemptuous smile at the sight of her, bow drawn and pointed at him even as she lay on the ground. “Pathetic. Weak. What delusion lets you think that you can stand against us? Who do you think you are to presume to challenge us?”

Marietta’s eyes were calm blue pools, and her voice was soft, swallowed by the combat the raged around them. “I am one who stands as Sentinel against the Night.” The string rolled off her fingers, snapping forward with its deep, thrumming note.

Whistling from the bow, the arrow sped towards the Nazha, who smiled his cruel smile and shifted his head a fraction of the inch to one side, the wind of the arrow’s passing ruffling his hair, its fletching caressing his cheek. “Your last chance, elfling, and you missed.”

The hunter smiled. “I wasn't aiming at you, darkspawn.” The Nazha paused for a split second, and then whirled about, hissing and turning his gaze skyward.

She was aiming at something else. On her back, looking up at the beast that was probably about to kill her, the half-elf had seen another Nazha beating his way skyward with dark wings, the girl clutched to his chest as he tried to make off with his prize. The arrow, all but invisible in the darkness, arced up and up, speeding towards the Nazha. Marietta had no delusions that the shaft would slay the monster, but if she could wound it, slow it down, then perhaps the others could still save the girl.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 120
1/26/2015 21:24:58   
Tdub
Member

"That I can do, Lock. Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on you. Then, after this is all over, we can talk. Get some rest - we'll need to be fit and ready when the time for fighting comes."

The ordeal with the rude girl over, Kenet continued the conversation, promising his support in exchange for information. To Lock's surprise, he found himself feeling something akin to friendship toward this man. Perhaps friendship was overstating things too much, but a lack of absolute hatred was certainly noticeable. Lock forced himself to remember that however amiable this man might seem to be, he was still a member, if a somewhat detached one, of this society, and was therefore a slave to monotony and leadership. He was just like everyone else, and no amount of kindness would change that.

Upon reaching this conclusion, Lock came to realize how tired he was, having missed almost an entire night of sleep. Kenet had already left, and, alone at the table, exhaustion was beginning to set in. Lowering his head, Lock slowly contemplated the misfortunes of the day as he drifted slowly into the realm of the unknown....


"They hunt in packs, son. When you see one, there's always ten more out of sight."

The giant bear of a man whispered to the small boy, pointing at a large wolf sniffing the base of a tree several meters away.

"Why is it so big?" The boy, no older than thirteen, had of course seen the wolves of Darkwald, but had never thought to inquire the beasts before. However, his father had been teaching him how to think for himself, to "never accept what's given to you without an explanation."

"Other forests, they're smaller. Means smaller wolves. But not here in Darkwald. One o' those'll cut you up. Still, you can fight on your own toe to toe with one. Might even win. Like I said, it's the pack you have to watch out for....."


He was late. He was very late. He had woken in the Inn to find all those involved with the "quest" gone, and for a brief moment, Lock couldn't believe his luck. They's left without him! He was free to go, and he'd never see or be seen by anyone who had anything to with Blackwater again. However, one step outside had shown him just how wrong he was. The streets near the front gate were consumed by utter chaos as the chosen group engaged in brutal combat with sinister foes.

Nazha.

Despite having never heard if them until a few hours ago, the name itself sent chills down Lock's spine. This was overshadowed by the feeling of terror the rebounded within his soul in a way that made him feel ill, a symptom of being in such close proximity to the vile creatures. The only thought that could push past the fear reverberated in his mind, spurring the man into action.

Run. Run fast. Run NOW! In reality, the back gate would have been a much safer option. The townspeople were unlikely to stop him, and it would have avoided the problem he now faced with running straight at the Nazha. But his senses were not functioning. Only basic flight instincts had command of his movements, urging him to run to to closest wall and climb, climb and then jump and escape.

Almost there... Here. Hand, foothold, climb. Higher, higher. Hand, foot, hand, foot, repeat. Breathe. Look back.... No, no, don't. Just keep climbing.

He had reached the top of the ramparts, and began to dash atop the somewhat-narrow wall to the front gate. Jump from there, follow the road. Get to the next city, send for help, escape into the woods. Lock had no idea why sending for help was suddenly a part of his plan. He certainly hadn't begun to care for these people's well-being. Had he?

His knives were drawn. He didn't remember drawing them, but it had to have been within the last few seconds. A little closer.....

A chill crept up the back of his spine. Without thinking, Lock turned, raising his knives crossed in front of his face. Not a moment too soon, for as he was still moving, a blade landed in between the crossed knives with a sickening clang. The terrible Nazha, defying description, stood there, pushing his blade closer and closer to Lock's face.

Act fast, act fast.... Quickly, Lock slid his right hand, holding Castor, out of the cross, leaving the Nazha's blade to slide down Pollux. Now that Lock's face was safely away from the sword, he brought Castor around, attempting to stab the creature in the side. His blade never reached, for the Nazha grabbed his arm with more speed than could have been thought possible, and tightened his grab. Crying out in pain, Lock dropped Castor. The knife landed, still on the ramparts, but out of Lock's reach. The Nazha kicked, knocking Lock back several feet with a blow that took the air from his lungs.

Lying on the wall, gasping for breath, Lock watched as the creature approached, lowering its blade. He was still holding Pollux in his left hand, but there was nothing he could do. In a sickeningly satisfied voice filled with malice, akin to rusty nails scraping down stone, the Nazha spoke to Lock.

"Did you really think escaping would be that easy?"
Post #: 121
1/28/2015 19:05:15   
Master K
Member

Marcelline stood up warily, and looked at the smoking remains of what had been a Nazha. The explosion had rattled her, but from the screams and the explosions, she was pleased with the outcome. She had really done it-she managed to kill one of the Nazha. At least, that's what it appeared to be. Either way, Marcelline felt a surge of joy, knowing that even someone as unassuming as her could kill off the Nazha.

However, the battle raged on around her. There was no time for standing idly, for she had to act. She watched as a scream erupted overhead, only to see a dark shadow whisk away with the girl, Lily. Toren was gone as well, it seemed. Marcelline was tempted to give chase, but she realized that would take her into the forest of Darkwald. She may be able to stand up to these shadowy atrocities on safe ground, but who was to say that even more malicious things didn't lurk in the forest? She'd only feel safer in a group...at least then she wouldn't have to face off Darkwald's monstrosities alone. However, nothing would be able to help her if Istarelle made a surprise appearance while they lurked the forest...

Snapping back to her senses, she quickly looked around the battlefield. She noticed a variety of conflicts, such as Kenet's restraint, Lock being pushed around like a ragdoll, and Sorlan on the ground. Marcelline had to make a hasty decision, and Sorlan was the closest that she could assist. Sorlan irked her slightly, after the whole door wrecking incident in the inn. However, she did make a promise, and the Nazha were more blatantly malicious in nature. Marcelline began to rush over as the Nazha drew closer to Sorlan. As she drew closer, the Nazha stopped in it's tracks. As it began to turn to face Marcelline, she drove her dagger down into its skull area. The creature hissed furiously, grabbed Marcelline with one hand, and flicked her aside. It clutched it's face, and turned to face it's new enemy.

"You blasphemous worm! Do you realize you're facing a god?!" It said, holding it's face still. Foul black blood poured from the wound, staining the ground ever so slightly. Marcelline made it back to her feet, and turned to face the Nazha.

"You're nothing more than a false idol to perish by my knife." Marcelline says, with a hint of malice in her cold demeanor. On the inside, she was pretty proud of that insult. It's not very often you get to strike down the ego of someone claiming to be a god. Either way, it worked, and the Nazha roared at her with pure rage.

"You...heretical harlot! ...False prophet! It began to scream, tripping over its words. "I'll paint the streets crimson with your blood!"

As it charged towards Marcelline, she let loose fireballs towards it, and got ready to dodge. Hopefully Sorlan would take this time to act...
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 122
1/30/2015 8:49:37   
blankmaskara
Member

The town was shrouded in darkness, with the sound of silence and hushed whispers hovering over it. The guards by the gates stood ready, weapons drawn as their eyes scoured the battlefield for some unknown, unseen threat. However, there was none to be found, and Franklin knew that the true enemy lay beyond those walls that kept the town secure and safe. He shivered at the thought, the suspense eating at him from within. Soon enough, demons--accursed creatures he had not seen in so long despite countless months of searching--would appear right before his eyes. He ached to know what secrets they held within them. Their knowledge, magic, and the hidden truth behind those horrifying, nightmarish bodies that kept them alive. He wanted all of it.

And when all is said and done, I'll have the pleasure of carving it out of their bones.

Then, with the rumble of the gates opening its maw to the unknown, the Nazha surged forth, screaming cries of death with weapons in hand that hungered for nothing less than flesh and blood. A mad chuckle escaped Franklin's lips as he saw the demonspawn enter. The objects of his..curiosity had arrived, and he wanted a piece of them.

If only he could find a way to do so.

With the sound of a chasm tearing through the ground, the entire place erupted into battle. Swords clashed, arrows flew, and streams and balls of fire danced between the two sides as the ragtag group of fighters fought the Nazha. With every attack thrown, a prompt counterattack was given in reply. The enemies didn't seem to have any weak points, their defenses never faltering despite their opponents' advances, as if they knew exactly what kind of strike would come next.

This bothered Franklin to no end.

No opening could possibly br found in the midst of any of the Nazha's constant dodging, weaving, and striking. A knife could quickly be deflected, and a ball of flame could just as well be intercepted by a barrier. Then, alerted by the projectile, the demonspawn would turn their attention to the one responsible: him. It was not a desireable end by any means, and he knew that he ought to look for options. To think of another alternative. Maybe to help someone out and join in their fight, or even to retreat. However, none of these were considerable options. The hunger within him still remained, growing larger with every passing second. The idea of retreat would not quell that unquenchable desire within, and he could care less what happened to the others.

He just wanted blood.

Slinking off to the side to avoid getting caught in the fight, Franklin's eyes scoured the area once more, looking for a free, easy target. Some were still busy fighting, others were already subdued, and quite a few were already close to death, if not already deceased. None of them were in situations that seemed opportune for the mage.

Except for the two that had chained the strange, dirty, mud-caked man from the inn.

Mouth morphing into a wide, malicious grin, Franklin silently got closer, closing some distance between him and the two. His eyes trained onto one of them ever so carefully, focusing on that specific target as a pair of knives slid down his sleeve and into his palm. An arm was raised, and after some time of careful aim, a pair of blades were released, cutting through the air towards the intended target.

The Nazha didn't seem to recognize the incoming knives at first, instead entirely focusing on restraining its foe. However, at the last second, its eyes flicked to the side and spotted the incoming blades, promptly diving to the side to the avoid them. Fortunately, it did not get out unscathed and earned a savage, lengthy cut on the side of its torso before landing roughly onto the cobblestone street.
Swearing, the demon got back up on its feet and adopted a ready stance, holding its sword close to block any other incoming blades.

"I'll make you pay for that, you insolent cur!" it roared, voice filled with contempt.

A faint chuckle escaped Franklin's lips at this. He was amused, maybe excited, even. A feast of carnage and mayhem lay right before him, and the sheer thought of it shook him down to his very bones.

"I'd like to see you try," he replied, and flung another pair of daggers at the Nazha.
Post #: 123
1/30/2015 20:32:06   
TJByrum
Member

Gorst VS Kitsondra and Sera
Gorst could do nothing. The Queen of Illusions had outdone him and even with his strength he could do nothing but match the Vampire. A broken wrist, an unsavory position, and at an impasse, Gorst had to think of something. But that's when he could see The Master! Flying off, target in tow, ripping through the air. "Ahah... ahaha... ahahahahaha!" Gorst laughed in his misery. It was a menacing laugh, but those around him knew it was a victorious laugh. "You want me to use magic, vampire!?"

Continuing to laugh, Gorst relaxed the bones and muscles throughout his person. Kitsondra needed not strain herself to keep him in place. He had been defeated - there was nothing else to it. But then Kitsondra was exposed to an action she could not defend against. The Nazha's cloak - whatever it was made of - began to ripple and ruffle... it was moving! It was alive!

The bony and decayed structure of Gorst began to crumble and rot away, but his cloak began to wrap itself around Kit's legs. Whether she stepped away or jumped back, tugged and pushed it away - there was nothing she could do. The cloak continued to wrap itself up her body until it squeezed her so tight she couldn't breath. Finally it dissipated! As if there was nothing there. With a final laugh Gorst was naught but dust blowing in the wind...



Sakolmir VS Marietta
Sakolmir was pleased to see his trick had worked. The archer-woman who had plagued him during the battle was finally being dealt with and all that was left was a final finishing blow. She attempted one last attack but Sakolmir's premonitions allowed him to simply move his head out of the way. "Your last chance, elfling, and you missed."

“I wasn't aiming at you, darkspawn," the woman replied. Looking up into the air, towards the location the arrow would have went, Sakolmir saw above as the Master flew away with the target, who was crying out in horror.

"Master?" Success. Sakolmir had no purpose in the battle anymore. "Lucky for you, woman, ahaha!" Dissipating into nothing but a swarm of bat-like creaturs, Sakolmir vanished as his tiny minions flew towards the Master...



Wretch VS Lock...
Wretch had entered a brief but successful fight with the man known as Lock. Within moments he had managed to put the rogue in his place. "Did you really think escaping would be that easy?" This man was rabble! Nothing but a thief, no doubt, and someone the Nazha would end up killing and never remembering. But when he saw the Master jet out of the inn with the girl, Wretch paid no attention to the dagger-wielding man, focusing entirely on his leader.

If only the man was quick enough, he may be able to injure the Nazha so as to keep him in the fight...



The Pharaoh VS Sorlan and Marcelline...

Preparing to drive its infectious blade deep into the gut of the fallen man, the Pharaoh was forced to focus now on another opponent: Marcelline. After a few insults had been thrown at one another, the Pharaoh charged forth to unleash its fury upon the heretic. She tossed a few fireballs his way and he promptly avoided them, but one was unavoidable. But it was no bother, as he dissolved the magical material in the palm of his hand. With quick strikes and forward lunges, the Pharaoh had the woman tied up in combat, but it would not be to long before Sorlan could stand back on his feet and help her...



Jagger (and Ripper) VS Franklin and Kenet...

It didn't take much for Jagger and Ripper to hold Kenet still. It was quite easy actually; the powerful warrior could do nothing to escape the grasp of the Void Chains that bound him. All that was needed was to kill the thing - and that was exactly what Jagger intended to do with his bone-tooth sword.

But before he could do anything he noticed the knives being thrown his way. The sudden appearance of the threat caused him to dodge to slowly, earning a nice wound on his torso. The combined distraction as well as the focus on the Void Chains caused him to be careless and he fell to the ground. "I'll make you pay for that, you insolent cur!"

"I'd like to see you try," replied his attacker, Franklin.

Without hesitation the Nazha dashed towards the man. Two more daggers had been thrown, but Jagger jumped and twiste din the air, evading both daggers and bring his bone-tooth sword down at Franklin...

Meanwhile one of the portals around Kenet closed, freeing one of his arms. Ripper looked on in surprise, a bit upset that Jagger had broken the plan. Fool! The might of Kenet could very easily tug on the chain now, and the more Void Magic that was 'pulled' from the portal would surely drain Ripper to much, so he was forced to drop the spell. Fortunately, he noticed the Master flying overhead with the girl in tow. "This isn't the last time we'll see each other, Wanderer!" Ripper did a complete back flip over the ten-foot wall, summoning his steed in the process and galloping off towards the woods.



Frail (Vs Kitsondra, Sera, and Symphony)...

Up! Down! Left! Right!

Frail could not 'sense' the incoming blows made by the knight but the almost-mechanical movements were quite distinguishable. He entered a defensive state and merely occupied the opponent while building a spell in his hand. Within a few moments it was ready and he let it loose toward Symphony. Some how Symphony managed to evade the attack - either through sheer concentration or coincidence. Whatever the case the knight disappeared and part of the inn's hallway was blasted into pieces.

Fortunately for him, the Master had retrieved Lily and was promptly flying off with her. There was no more reason to- but wait! Gorst! Frail rushed over to a hole blasted in the wall to see Gorst slain by the vampire. "No!" Ignoring all else, Frail hopped out of the inn and back into the streets, rushing over to avenge his friend.



The Master...

The Master's stoic face showed no emotion as he took off into the sky with Lily. Her screams and pleas for help filled the air but it did her no good. Sakolmir and Ripper were already retreating since the mission was complete.

"Ungh!" The Master grunted as an arrow whizzing from below struck him in the stomach. It did not phase him much, but he pulled the arrowhead from his body and snapped it two, tossing it down below. even though it didn't hurt him, blood still poured, leaving a trail of black ooze on the ground for the defenders to follow...
DF AQW  Post #: 124
1/30/2015 22:15:09   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 As was usually the case in battles, a lot happened in very little time.

The Nazha she was against was defeated by Sera. Lilly was captured, but it looked like the Nazha that had her was shot at. The thief was in a bind as was the strange man. Before she could aid either of them, however, their opponents retreated.

No. Not all of them. The one on the thief was still there. Too far for her knives. Perhaps an arrow could -

"No!"

The scream destroyed all thoughts of using her bow as a Nazha rushed at her, Kitsondra, and the bard, intent on doing them all harm.

With little time to do anything more than raise her sword, Sera met his charge head on. The broker would probably be at least temporarily unable to truly act after whatever had happened with that cloak, and the bard didn't seem to be much help in a fight.

So yet again, she found herself a shield between a Nazha and those she cared little for, and in the broker's case truly disliked. The gods had a sense of humor, it seemed.

There was no point in trying to take the offensive. However these Nazha were able to do it, they did seem completely able to know what she would do even before she herself knew. Sera wasn't a fan of being forced completely on the defensive, but she was just as effective holding her own against a foe as she was driving her sword through them.

Judging from how furiously the Nazha beat against her blade, it wasn't particularly amused at her ability to hold her own against him. Too bad for it.

Despite not liking working with others, and even despite not liking the people she was forced to work with, she found herself hoping one or even both of them would come up with something to kill the Nazha while she had it distracted. Holding it there was fine, but killing it would be better for everyone in the long run.

Either way, she needed to find a way to end this battle soon. The girl was gone. She had promised to keep her safe. And Sera prided herself on completing her jobs.

And even if it wasn't her contract, the girl was still young. She was a warrior, but she wasn't heartless. She couldn't abandon a child to these monsters. She wouldn't even abandon Kitsondra to them, and she had no problems with thoughts of the woman's death. Abandoning the girl was out of the question.

Finish the battle, one way or another. Then find the girl and get her back. That was Sera's plan. How well it would work, she didn't know.

< Message edited by Gingkage -- 1/30/2015 22:24:06 >
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 125
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