Home  | Login  | Register  | Help  | Play 

RE: The Hallows Inn

  		Logged in as: Guest
  Printable Version
All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> Role Playing >> RE: The Hallows Inn
Page 11 of 12«<89101112>»
Forum Login
Message << Older Topic   Newer Topic >>
9/3/2015 18:24:39   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 Sera was finding the fight against the Kitsondra-summonesque creatures to be enjoyable.

Irritating in their ability to doge almost any and everything she could do, and they had an annoying tendency to gang up on her, and Marietta could only do so much when every time she turned around to face one, three more were coming against her. But she was having fun.

These creatures weren't easy hits, and her armor had definitely been put to the test against these creatures, but unlike the Nazha, they were creatures whose moves could, to an extent, be predicted. They were creatures of substance, though she couldn't swear to what that substance was. It meant they could be killed.

An arrow whizzed past her. Not Marietta. It came from the wrong direction. Who was-

She had to quickly leap out of the way as a fox took advantage of her surprise to try and latch onto her sword-arm. She was proficient with both hands, her father expected nothing less of her when teaching her the blade, but it was inconvenient to switch to her off-hand. She would prefer to avoid that, if at all possible.

"I wonder if Marietta is ambidextrous or not." Ambidexterity would make teaching the woman easier, but if not, she would have to focus on making sure that the archer was at the very least competent with her off-hand. Loss of a sword-arm wasn't uncommon if an injury were severe enough, and occasionally switching hands suddenly could throw an opponent off-balance. And any advantage that could be found was one that needed taken.

Skip back to avoid a fox, raise her arm to avoid those sharp fangs, and thrust!

She bit back a curse as the fox managed to doge. Not completely. Her blade bit down into whatever-the-heck kind of flesh the fox was made of. But it wasn't the blow she was aiming for. Blasted creatures were nimble.

Ah, well. That just made things more challenging. And more fun.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 251
9/7/2015 15:06:58   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta’s arrow slammed into the road hard enough to shatter, the shadowfox skipping over the shaft with an aggravated hiss. The beasts were swifter than she had given them credit for, but at least her shot had kept one of the creatures back a moment. Knocking her second arrow, the half-elf pivoted and quickstepped to the side to give herself more space to work with.

A spate of arrows whistled in; one of the missiles clattering off a cobble. The shafts were unfamiliar to the hunter. She shot a glance to the side where she spotted the archer, an unfamiliar man, and sent a brief nod of acknowledgement in his direction. Marietta did not recognize him, but questions about who he was and what he was doing in Blackwater could wait for a more opportune time.

The half-elf drew and fired, her arrow whipping over a shadowfox’s head and forcing it to duck. Another arrow met the string, and Marietta felt a smile slipping across her face. Sera turned and slashed, her blade flickering through glittering arcs and patterns. They were falling into rhythm together, working with surprising harmony considering the fact they had not spoke of a battle plan before they were thrust into this engagement.

Sera was good with her blade, but even so, she could not take on four opponents at once, not when those creatures were both swift and coordinated. Marietta’s role in this was not to pick off the shadowfoxes. The beasts were too quick for a reliable shot, but the hunter was not looking to kill the creatures, or even slow them down. Her purpose here was to hinder the movement of the shadowfoxes, prevent all of them from getting to the bounty hunter at once. The half-elf chose her shots with care, using her arrows to herd the beasts, pushing them to the edges of the fray, delaying them, tangling their avenues of approach. If it was just the two of them, it still might have ended poorly. Perhaps the unknown archer would be enough for them to turn the tide.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 252
9/22/2015 8:51:32   
Draycos777
Member

As Kitsondra made her way to the Inn's front , the door she had planned on walking through burst open and two rather large foxes stood in the entryway. The dark flames, that danced at the back of their heels, burned brighter as they noticed Kitsondra.

"Ernst, Evelin..." Kitsondra addressed to two foxes, in a slightly joking manner; "Fancy meeting you two here, no? If you wouldn't mind, would you tell your master to please leave this town alone before I am forced to make him?"

The packleader snorted in annoyance and took an offensive stance along side Evelin. Kitsondra sighed and placed her hands upon her hips, as if her time had been wasted.

"We both know how a fight, if you'd even call it that, will turn out. Don't waste my time anymore than this. I have other things to attend to that are much more important then whatever this is right now."

Growling at Kitsondra for her lack of respect, Ernst charged with Evelin following suit. Clicking her tongue, Kitsondra's left hand instantly shot up and magic began to gather.

"Element of fire, heed my call! Let thy foes feel the pain of your scorching heat!"



As his magic covered the town, the white-suited man saw the battle between his foxes and the little town's cute defenders. His favorite were the ranger and merc. What an interesting pair rouge human and elf made. It was unfortunate, but, those two would have to come to an end if his plans were to run smoothly.

"Vier, Sieben; Forget about the mercenary. Follow Drei and kill that female archer. If she keeps you away from the mercenary any longer, it could cause trouble. Acht; you keep the mercenary busy. Do not let her aid her ranger ally. Forget about the child, he wouldn't be foolish enough to draw an arrow so close to an ally with speed like yours."

The man smiled, as he looked towards the town.

"Well now... I believe that it's time I made a visit to this 'Blackwater', and get to know the locals."

As the man walked towards town the sound of metal tap-tapping on the ground followed as his cane kept pace with his right leg.



After getting shoot with an arrow and then slashed by a sword, Drei had had enough. The constant arrows from the pointy-eared human that kept him from staying too close to the rouge grated on his nerves too much. When the last arrow nearly impaled his paw onto the ground, he quickly changed targets to the female ranger.

It wasn't long until he was followed by Vier and Sieben, leaving Acht alone with the rouge. Drei charged straight for the front of the ranger as the other two headed in a half-circle towards the ranger's sides. A common tactic used by predators. One or two to distract, the rest to kill.



Ein and Zwei ducked and weaved through the two monster hunters, trying to lead the cloud of flies into the hunters' faces. Bitting and snapping at the two's ankles and wrists, generally trying to wear the hunters down.
AQ  Post #: 253
9/22/2015 10:33:10   
Legendium
Member

The women fought well as a team. The one with the sword was quite an experienced fighter, striking the agile foxes despite their speed, while the lady with the bow kept them at bay enough for her friend to deal with them one at a time. The tactic worked for now, but it would only take one organized attack by the foxes to overpower them.

And it looked like that was about to happen - Essex felt a shift in the tension of the fight that he had felt before when wolf packs closed in on their prey. It was the minute changes to their body language which triggered his memory of being attacked by wolves.

Two of the foxes' heads pointed toward the archer lady and Essex leapt into action - the time of proper ranged combat was over. As the two foxes ran at the archer, Essex ran at the remaining fox, whose purpose was obviously to take out the swordswoman now that she was without help. He wasn't about to let that happen.

Intercepting the fox's line of charge, Essex drew an arrow as far back as he could and aimed it directly at the fox which had changed direction quickly. He kept his arrow constantly pointing at it, a look on his face daring the fox to stay still. He hoped the element of surprise would buy enough time to make his plan work.

"Help your friend, I've got this one." He said to the woman, his arrow still trained on the slightly bewildered fox, who was quickly overcoming its surprise. Essex knew the fox would soon start zigzagging towards him and close in, but once it came close enough to attack, he could heart-kill it with ease. Provided it didn't attack him first, that is.

He was hedging all his bets on it thinking he was enough of a threat to attack, because if it ignored him, there went his plan.
DF MQ Epic  Post #: 254
9/22/2015 10:55:54   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 Sera was extremely grateful for the surprisingly good synergy between herself and Marietta. With zero communication beforehand, they had seamlessly found the best plan to take out the foxes, Sera going at them with her blade while Marietta kept her from being surrounded. Between the two of them and the unknown third archer, they were holding their own against the creatures.

It had been a long time since she'd worked as a cohesive unit with another person. She hadn't thought she could find such effortless teamwork again and it went a long way to show Marietta's knowledge of tactics and her adaptability to work with someone on the fly.

Still. She wished the half-elf had used her blade just a little. Would have been nice to get an idea of what she was going to be working with soon. Oh, well. Marietta probably thought the same thing and in this situation, beggars couldn't be choosers.

Without warning, all but one of the foxes broke off from her and started running towards - Nope. No, that was not going to be tolerated. She would not let Marietta be ganged up on like that.

If she'd been using her bow, the shot would be risky. But with her throwing knives, it was only difficult. Grabbing one of her six blades - she had retrieved the ones used in the fight with the Nazha and had been glad to see them undamaged - she launched it at one of the foxes trying to approach Marietta from behind. The aim wasn't to hit so much as it was to distract, but she was still pleased to see the glancing blow off its shoulder. She had done better than she'd thought she would given the fox's speed and agility.

She had been about to repeat the tactic with another of the foxes, keeping the one on her at bay as best as she could with her sword while doing so, when the unknown third archer made himself known, charging recklessly at the fox on her, and rather foolishly given that bows were not meant to be used in close combat, and telling her to help her friend.

She and Marietta weren't friends exactly, were barely more than acquaintances given that they'd only shared one real conversation, but that distinction would take too long to explain at the moment and she was already moving to intercept one of the foxes on Marietta, powerfully slashing at it and making it clear that it was going to focus on her whether it liked it or not.

After all, even if they weren't friends - and Sera was momentarily surprised to find herself tacking on the word 'yet' to that thought - they were allies. And she'd be a poor one to not keep Marietta from harm to the best of her ability.

< Message edited by Gingkage -- 9/22/2015 10:56:16 >
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 255
10/3/2015 23:42:14   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 It was, Marietta reflected, just as well that she had taken the time to restock her war-quiver after the incident with the Nazha. That meant it had been hanging next to her bow full-stocked and ready when the latest round of troubles in Blackwater began. The war-quiver’s main advantage was its size; it held easily twice as many shafts as a hunting quiver did. In this situation, that meant she had enough arrows to keep up her campaign of harassment and delay without having to be too choosy about her shots.

Of course, the dark beasts were less than happy with how the battle was progressing. Between Marietta’s arrows, Sera’s blade, and the appearance of the other archer, their frustration was mounting. The creatures seemed resolved to do something about it as well. Almost as one, three of the foxes spun and rushed in her direction while the last of the quartet remained to try and pin the bounty hunter down.

The half-elf bit back a curse, dropping her arrow and taking hold of the greatbow with both hands. A dagger flickered through the air, clipping one fox in the shoulder and turning it aside, and the hunter heard Sera rush in to engage another. There was no time for those things, however, for the remaining beast, the unfortunate one that had caught the unknown archer’s arrow, was heading for her. That left Marietta with very little in the way of good options. She was going to have to take a swing at her charging foe with the bow.

Her father would have been horrified she was treating a bow in such a fashion. It went against every instinct the half-elf had, but she had no other choice. The dark beast bounded at her and Marietta pivoted to one side, letting out a high-shout as she swung the bow hard at the beast. There was a hard shock of impact as the greatbow slammed into the dire fox’s back right leg. But the thwack of impact was followed by a splintering crack that all but broke the half-elf’s heart. The upper limb of her bow snapped from the force of the blow, and the stave almost seemed to groan in relief as the tension of the string was released.

Swearing, Marietta dropped the bow, her hand darting for the hilt of the shamshir. Even drawing the weapon was awkward, but the half-elf managed it, taking the curving weapon in both hands as she squared off with the dire fox turning back to face her. “Come on,” the hunter snarled, “there’s more where that came from!”

Marietta was hoping that Sera and the mysterious archer could hold off the other three. She was hardly confident in her ability to deal with one of the creatures with the blade. If two of the things managed to get on her at once, this would not end well.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 256
11/5/2015 18:56:03   
Draycos777
Member

Acht had been caught off guard. He had not anticipated that the foolish kid would suddenly come at him. Because of this kid, his target had now ran off to help her pointy-eared friend. Acht very much so wanted to teach this kid a lesson, however, the Master's orders where clear; and the Master's orders are absolute. Turning away from the kid, Acht ran back towards the rouge and jumped, attempting to land on-top of their back and push them down. It was while he was in mid-attack that he heard the sound of crackling behind him and a wave of heat passed by.


Drei once again had been made a fool of by these humans. As he closed in of the pointy-eared one, the archer spun and struck at his hind leg. Upon impact, Drei let out a pained yelp, which sounded closer to a howl. Quickly hobbling back, Drei faced the archer as she mocked him.

“Come on, there’s more where that came from!”

Anger burned in the shadow fox's yellow eyes, while the fur, that looked like fire coming from it's feet, seemed to grow longer. This human, Drei would personally end it's life. He would drag her back to their den and eat her alive. Tonight he is going to sleep to the screams she made while he tore her open.

Vier was stuck. Having to fight the rouge was not part of the plan; this was not good. Drei needed his help, and he couldn't do anything while focusing on dodge the rouge's attacks. Acht pulled through , however, controlling his emotions to come back to keep the rouge pinned-down. Seeing him coming back, Vier jumped back, pivoting upon landing and rushed back towards the archer. Heading back to his path towards the archer's left.

Sieben had been temporarily distracted by a flying knife, but only temporarily, as it glanced off his shoulder. Regaining his composer he continued his rush from behind.

Seeing his two comrades return to his side, Drei gave the archer the closest thing that a fox could muster for a smile. He could already taste the pointed-eared human's blood. He jumped to distracted her and allow the others to pin her down, or he would have. Before the three could make their assault, the sound of a large cracking flame engulfed the area as a massive heat wave rushed out from the Inn's front door.

The two pack leaders jumped out from the inn and rolled on the ground in agony, trying to pull out the fake flames. Following closely by was Kitsondra, who, with every snap of her fingers, sent out another wave of false flame and heat.

The three foxes, that had surrounded the archer, shrank back from the flames, but soon regrouped on Sieben's side, away from the fake fire.

AQ  Post #: 257
11/5/2015 23:22:21   
Remaint
Member

An elf, wearily leaning on a giant flea blinked. There to her fore laid the gates of a town, with no guardsmen. It was a foreboding sight, or perhaps a mere illusion, conjured by the ever-deceitful forest that is the Darkwald. She unslung her musket and pulled away her tricorn hat, placing them within the blob of bags upon her companion arthropod. If this town was actual, then she did not need to garner leers toward her weapon. Somewhat related, she had encountered friendlier looks when others saw her as a young elf instead of a foreign soldier. The girl took a breath and advanced.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the beginning, or middle as it were, Folliwen who came from foggy and dark Harrowshreik was eager to escape the blazing, arid desert to the south, especially as she targeted the Darkwald to the north, a similarly gloomy and dim region to her home territory. That eagerness eroded quickly once the elf set foot upon the forest in which only shadow and deception lay. A few hours worth of her stay had already led to many moments of severe doubt, whether there existed true foe, or a mind’s phantom. Folliwen, ever the reactive Chasseur, loosed shot after shot against rotten bark, corroded stone, swampy soil in her panicked attempts to drive away what demons that may or may not have existed. By the seventh attempt to shoot, her companion steed had headbutted her into the dirt and sat on her, probably out of sheer exasperation added with a hint of concern.

Five-hundred and twenty pounds of armoured arthropod sitting on oneself could not be comfortable, notably so when serrated hooks threatened to puncture skin even through tough coating. The elf squirmed and flailed her limbs uselessly for some time, partly in disbelief of her companion’s betrayal, and partly just to relieve herself of her frustrations. When the giant flea finally walked off her back, Folliwen laid still with closed eyes, trying to find comfort in the harrowing noises in the far background that so tormented her, so remained familiar to her. She found comfort, a twisted sense of comfort equating to dying by guillotine instead of the mouths of many undead.

Some few days past with like results; multiple mis-fires, misidentifications and and the ever unsettling noise that could not be distinguished as natural accompanied the chasseur wherever she went. It went without saying that the nights were worst than day, where the pitch blackness of the fallen sun seemed to have crept into the very bones of Folliwen herself, driving her insomniacal with fear and dread. The unforgiving hours of darkness passed with torturing visions of dead elves, dead loves, dead friends, dead acquaintances, dead enemies alongside miscellaneous wights, revenants and shades. The young elf once climbed a great tree to find rest in, but it was a mistake that will not be forgotten anytime soon; where sleep happens, nightmares pursue. In a fit of black dreaming, an unreasonable thrashing in resting, Folliwen had fell out of the tree and awoke with a dread so unmistakable, so sure of a falling death.

Quite fortunately, the young elf had found landing on something rather soft. Quite misfortunately, Folliwen found herself deeply mired in quicksand. She found her way out with her giant flea's aid, but had to deal with the humiliation of being unclothed briefly, for the risk of hypothermia was very real in the frigid woods that was so telling of home.

Grounded, the chasseur could not and did not sleep well. The living nightmares were so frequent, so vivid that Folliwen resorted to crying herself to slumber, which only led to terrible dreams wherein giant, misshapened pieces of corpses threatened to strangle, break or simply feel her. She eventually did find a remedy, and cursed herself for not utilising it sooner. Folliwen simply slept under her companion arthropod, in a parallel manner, as so its many legs would stand outside to her torso, waist, hips. Strangely, the elf could then rest free of nightly horrors. Mental ones, anyway. She supposes it had to do with her fear of many-legged things overpowering the influence of the Darkwald.

The final evening prior to finding herself at the gates of Blackwater was....actually relieving in some senses. It began in a manner remarkably intrusive, with awakening to the chasseur’s own steed stomping all over her incessantly as all hell, to an occurrence of a harrowing shriek that echoed through her very bones. The shriek was dreadfully familiar. In a spanse of a moment so quick as to leave no time for Folliwen to draw her weapon, a creature malformed, akin to a grotesquely elongated woman burst forth from the brush with arms outstretched. A fearful tear was shed by the chasseur before its wickedly slender fingers grazed the hair of the young elf. She would have met death then and there, had not her giant flea rammed the horror into a mossy tree. Her discipline kicked in at that point, and with a double crack that shattered the uneasy air the creature splurt gruesome blood. The monster’s death throes were a horrible sight, slinging viscous fluid here and loosing soul-chilling screams there, but a second dose of hot lead silenced it.

Folliwen took a breath then. Her heart beated with a sense of familiarity. Of hunting, and succeeding. She came to an epiphany then, of how much of a force multiplier numbers were. This was the very reason she could even have lived in Harrowshreik. Biting her lip in anxious excitement, she planned to find semblance of civilisation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the present hour, the young elf gave wary glances toward the small buildings and panicked people throughout the main street. Folliwen had lingered close to the walls, and oft to travel outside of vision when possible. She held little clue as to the town’s situation, until she caught sight of a small crowd doing battle with...hellhounds? No, the features are vulpine. Hell Fox? Hell-Canid? The last term, made in whimsy, was legitimate to describe what was common in Harrowshreik. It might not quite encompass the beasts Folliwen laid eyes on, but she’ll stick with it.

Great! First day in town and I have a job!

Optimism highest since entering the Darkwald, the elven chasseur brought about her musket from a wrap upon her giant flea. It was rather ironic. Folliwen gave her companion arthropod the name Crazy-Eyes, but it was the arthropod who kept calm throughout their entire journey so far. Short thought past, the elf lined up a shot against Acht and fired. Her particular choice came from a short analysis of the circumstances, wherein a young human seemed to have sought to gain the attention of the specific Hellcanid, to partial avail. The beast then took to re-engage its former target, but Folliwen's mach-speed ball of lead should change that quickly.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 11/6/2015 3:12:21 >
AQW  Post #: 258
11/8/2015 8:11:39   
TJByrum
Member

A ragged, worn out warrior, plopped lazily upon a white horse, slowly trotted down the muddy road leading north - to the apparent town of Blackwater. He gave off the personage of a crusader, one of the Brothers of the Sword no doubt, but the dents, dings, and scratches upon his armor looked more like a knight who had seen better days. Each step of the great warhorse served to roll the man's hand around, lazily holding onto the reins and oblivious to his surroundings.

He came upon Darkwald from the southeastern road. The wooden, palisade walls ahead of him seemed a bit ironic. If the forest was as deadly as they say, then why use wooden walls? Perhaps it was a means of cash - something the Knights of the Black Cross had enough of. "One thing at a time," the man said to himself quietly.

The guards were not at the gates, tending to the situation with the foxes, so the crusader rounded his horse nearby and hitched it to a nearby post. It was only then he heard the commotion of battle - a sudden 'boom' and 'crackle'. "What the bloody hell is going on in there," he asked to himself.

The knight pounded upon the southeastern gate and cried out. "Hey! Hey! What's going on? Someone let me in!"
DF AQW  Post #: 259
11/9/2015 10:15:16   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 The crack of wood breaking as Marietta used the weapon as a club caused Sera to internally wince in sympathy. She'd had weapons break before and likely the half-elf had as well, but it was never pleasant.

Nothing for it. Marietta had had to do what she did, and Sera took the chance to observe the way she held the blade while parrying the fox that was on her. She could work with that.

That was, assuming the second fox that had joined the first one didn't make things difficult for her.

Of course, this was one of the things Sera lived for. Her chosen lifestyle was a dangerous one, but she loved it. Nothing could beat the thrill she got from a good, hard fight. Except, perhaps, when she came across an opponent whose skill with the blade could match or perhaps even surpass her own. The challenge to be found there was exhilarating.

One fox she could handle without much difficulty. Two were troublesome. Three, however, as the fox whose shoulder her blade had glanced recovered and again set out for Marietta's exposed back, was a bit much to ask given the irritating speed and agility that these creatures moved with.

She'd just moved to fight back to back with Marietta when flames burst out from nowhere, accompanied by the crack of snapping fingers that she could just make out in the chaos.

Risking a glance out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Kitsondra approaching, looking furious and snapping her fingers with virtually every step she took, and flames accompanying every snap.

For once, she was glad to see the information broker. And she still wanted answers that only the other woman could give. Perhaps the battle's end would give her the opportunity to get them.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 260
11/11/2015 0:06:24   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta bared her teeth at the dire fox, a wolf’s grin that was equal parts exhilaration and acidic fear. There was murder in the creature’s eyes. The half-elf knew the look, had seen it on the faces of monsters and men before. More to the point, she had watched it fade, watched expressions go slack and empty as her arrows found their marks. Perhaps that was the darkness inside her, that little barren patch of her heart that thrilled at the challenge and exulted in victory at any cost. It was a place she preferred not to think about, a place she had lost herself in when her friends had died. “Come on,” the hunter whispered, so soft she could barely hear herself, “come and dance with me.”

“That edge is thin as a blade, Etta. Be careful you do not fall over it.” A quiet voice from the past brought the hunter back to herself, and perhaps just in time. Her focus on the beast before her had distracted her from the fact another of the dire foxes was circling to one side. The half-elf breathed a curse, turning slightly and dividing her attention between the pair.

And then her sharp ears heard a noise that made her heart sink. Claws scrabbling against stone, a third beast behind her. Marietta had no idea what was going on with Sera, but there was no time to think of that now. Before her the dire fox gathered itself to leap. Clasped in her hands the shamshir’s tip wavered ever so slightly, betraying a sudden hint of nerves.

And then a pair of broader shoulders met up with hers, and a strong back braced against her slender form. Sera. The bounty hunter was still there, and the woman had her back. Life flowed back into the half-elf’s smile. Together they would get through this.

But before the battle could be joined again, heat and light washed over the combatants. Marietta flinched reflexively, crouching and turning slightly to look at the source of the sudden bloom of flame.

Kitsondra. A very angry Kitsondra, from the look of things. The broker apparently had more magical tricks than the half-elf had given her credit for. She was putting a pair of the dire foxes to rout with gouts of flame, and the trio about Marietta and Sera shrunk away from the blazes as well.

While the beasts were still recovering from the shock of Kitsondra’s assault, the hunter used the opportunity to have a word with her associate. “Looking forward to those lessons. I’ll follow your lead.”
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 261
11/11/2015 2:03:29   
Draycos777
Member

Shuyi leaned on her scythe for support as two foxes laid dead on the ground. Seconds later they rippled apart and faded into nothingness. It was a hard fight, however, Shuyi was an expet in support magic. Magic to let one's eyes follow speed beyond one's sight, magic to enchant one's physical strength. Even magic to increase one's speed, the foxes couldn't stop Shuyi's rampage of wide attacks once she was able to put up her enchantments. The time it took to do so, however, was the hard part of the fight. Dodging and blocking attacks until she as in the position of going all-out. However, even with the battle over, Shuyi had no time to rest, as she could hear the sounds of battle coming from the other side of the inn.

Making her way towards the tree just outside of Kitsondra's room, Shuyi picked up the shovel she had dropped, in order to fight the foxes, and started digging at the dry spot of dirt Heinrich had fallen on earlier. Six shovels of dirt later, Shuyi felt a thud, as she hit something solid.

"There we go!"

Quickly bending down and removing the rest of the dirt with her hands, Shuyi pulled a long, narrow wooden box from out of the earth. Dark energy could be felt emanating from it by those that are magical inclined. Not wasting a moment, Shuyi got back up and headed towards the front of the inn.



As Acht was about to pounce on top of his prey, something hit him in the side. Pain wracked his entire body as he rolled around on the ground. Eventually Acht got back up and looked in the direction he had been hit from. The assailant was another pointy-eared human. This one, however, had a giant flea as a pet. This wasn't good. Because of this miscalculation, the rouge was allowed to rejoin with the archer. Not only this, but the traitor was also here throwing waves of curse'd fire around. The situation had flipped on the foxes in a matter of minutes and it would only get worst if they didn't end things quickly. Lifting his head to the sky, Acht gave out a call similar to Drei's earlier.



Neun and Zehn were starting to give up on the idea of the sword being in any of these houses; having searched nearly every house it felt like. On their way to the next house, Neun and Zehn heard another call for help. Changing their direction on the spot, the two foxes half ran, half bounced towards the inn. Maybe now they could do something useful.



Even if it was fake, the heat and pain from the flames Kitsondra summoned up was intense. Finally getting his head up to begin a counter attack, Ernst stare at nothing. The vampire had disappeared. Where had she gone, and in such little time?

"Where are you looking at?"

A voice coming from behind him answered his question. Ernst tried turning, but pain wracked his entire back as a knife was plunged into it.

"I'm over here."

It isn't real. Those were the words the fox repeated to itself. Shaking his head to recover from his blurry vision, Ernst looked in front of him. The vampire was in the her original spot. However, the compressed magic in her right hand was very real. Evelin was sent flying backwards. The vampire placed her hands on her hips.

"I'll say this only once more. Run back and tell your master to leave this town alone. If you decide not to, then I'll end your existence here."

The fox smiled inwardly. He had known from the beginning that he couldn't, wouldn't win this fight. His part was simply to hold off Kitsondra from putting up a counter against his master's spell. Taking a glance over towards the others, the packleader saw that the others seemed to be holding out well enough, though Drei and Acht were badly hurt. It didn't matter though. The humans they're fighting are nothing but fodder to their master. They needed only to hold out until he is able to arrive. Ernst brought his attention back towards the vampire and once more took a battle stance. Kitsondra scowled at this.

"Fine," Kitsondra spoke coldly; "your choice."

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 11/11/2015 17:40:13 >
AQ  Post #: 262
11/11/2015 19:35:01   
Remaint
Member

The chasseur pursed her lips. To be honest, she had expected a bit more result in her action. While her shot had struck true, the hellcanid showed seemingly no signs of bleeding, limping or even an exiting hole from the lead ball that’s bound to punch through organic flesh like, well, a bullet through a body. Folliwen could only hope the musket ball shattered inside the hellcanid, and it was actually suffering massive amounts of internal bleeding. Rathering worryingly, the vulpine hellcanid loosed a cry, not of pain, but of communication. The elf could bet on reinforcements arriving in due time.

Judging the distance from her target, the elf noted 25 metres, significantly less time than required to loading another shot before the wolf-sized hellcanid would reach her, should it charge despite its probable wounds. Folliwen thought to mount her bayonet at this point, but a big blur with an accompanying gush of wind caught her attention, and hair. Urgently brushing the streaks of blonde aside, the chasseur peered an annoyed glance at her giant flea who’s apparently off to charge down the opposing hellcanid.

Must....Suck...Blood! Folliwen’s companion, named Crazy-Eyes, dashed in a blood-crazed manner toward Acht. The arthropod was undead, un-needing of food-substance to sustain itself, but like many undead, it still felt a primordial hunger shared by those unnaturally returned. But Crazy-Eyes had a better reason than that to eat a giant fox, it thinks; mammals tasted good, and so did magic. The giant flea had eaten neither in such a long time, and to see both packaged into one dinner-sized prey was irresistible.

Crazy-Eyes descended from a long line of fleas that inhabited the Archipelago of Fog. Such arthropods notably had co-existed with dragons long dead, and so evolved to be very formidable simply to survive. This species of flea focused upon evading the giant reptiles, developing near-inconceivably dense, plated muscle to out-run, out-jump and out-endure a flying, magic-breathing dragon. Crazy-Eyes used its natural assets to sprint faster than most mammals, even canids, toward Acht. It was intent on wrapping its hooky appendages around the wounded fox, and drain it dry of magic and blood. If said fox could stare into its eyes, crazy would be an apt description, for they flashed madly in lustrous-yellow and abyss-black.

Time hardly passed when Folliwen understood the situation, and moved to recharge her musket instead of mounting a bayonet. The hellcanid that was her opponent should have its paws overflowing with arthropod-related problems soon, and likely wouldn’t disturb her in biting off a paper cartridge, plugging powder into the flashpan, dumping the rest into the bore, ramming the ramrod....It took awhile to reload, and Folliwen had the chance to observe, take account the larger scenario.

A short woman with vividly violet hair expressed her prowess in pyromancy, its scorching fury reminiscent of the time Folliwen accidentally burned down a schooling institution…the chasseur winced abit before continuing to load powder. Maybe I could ask her for lessons?

A military-caliber longbow laid broken near an elf...there are elves here? Folliwen then frowned. How the hell did it break? From her distance, the chasseur could only guess the bow was a mighty 110, maybe even 120 pounds in draw-weight, and very poorly maintained-or made poorly in the first place-to snap in such a manner. There was a human in close proximity to the elf. Folliwen supposes the human made such a bow, and rolled her eyes. Humans. One moment they craft the most wondrous of plate, crossbow and sword, the next moment they could hardly scrap together a simple longbow.

The chasseur was no combat archer, her slender frame and slight shoulder muscles biologically prevents her from wielding battlefield-grade bows, but she had learned plenty about archery equipment from older elves. Many of aforementioned elves utilised archery in their crusades against the Archipelago of Fog, some still shoot as a hobby, and some carried their former choice of warring weapon just for sentimental value. Folliwen had many opportunities to inspect the tool that was so thoroughly linked to her people.

Vulpine hellcanids appeared to be defensive at this point, a relieving sign. Hah! As if wild beasts could hope to stand against humanity!

In some moments, the chasseur would have primed her musket, yet in those same moments a hellcanid or two could appear ever so inconveniently.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 11/11/2015 20:57:44 >
AQW  Post #: 263
11/14/2015 4:41:27   
Legendium
Member

Annoyingly, the fox had completely ignored him and charged straight past him too fast to hit.

"Alright, you vulpine piece o' bull, you wanna ignore me? 'Cause I'm not going to be ignored."

Tossing his bow out of the battle's way, he drew Fallow from her sheath and charged the fox - only to be shocked out of his rage as a grey ball shot at a seemingly impossible speed at the fox, knocking it to the ground. Essex had never seen one before, but he'd heard of guns on his travels. That had to be what it was.

He noticed a lady in purple had also entered the fight, showing off her magic powers of fire by burning the foxes and generally making them appear to be in pain.

Behind him, the archer and the swordswoman were still being attacked by foxes, and the archer had for some unfathomable reason used her bow as a melee weapon. Essex couldn't hide his distaste at the thought. He hoped it wasn't what it looked like and that she had treated her bow with a bit more respect, given its fine quality.

Essex was snapped to his senses as the fox he had targeted earlier howled for reinforcements - and then he was promptly shocked out of them again as what appeared to be a giant flea charged at the fox.

"What the hell is wrong with this town?"

Essex had seen some weird things in his time, but this town had the largest concentration of weird things he'd ever seen.

The fight was going on without him, and Essex was still rather pissed about being ignored by the one fox. Deciding to leave it to the flea, Essex picked out a new target - the closest fox not being attacked by an abnormally large flea, the one which had been hit on the shoulder by the swordswoman's throwing knife.

Gripping Fallow better in his right hand, he charged the fox from behind as it was preparing to attack again. With the element of surprise on his hands, he actually managed to tackle the fox in a bear hug and pin it to the ground. Thanks to his amulet, he saw a clear path to the beast's heart - but had to deal with a fox recovering from the surprise tackle very quickly.
DF MQ Epic  Post #: 264
11/14/2015 13:47:36   
Vanir
Member

This must be the place.

As a child, Titus Lunaris Corvus heard many tall tales about werewolves and vampires. Gruesome stories told by his father’s friends. Old veterans drinking on the porch in the moonlight and whispering nightmares into his ear that his mother did not want him to hear. They muffled their chuckles while watching the little Titus shake in fear, and his big eyes projecting the horror that played in the theatre of his imagination. After his mother finally rescued him from the porch and the veterans’ heavy alcohol, he would lie in bed and imagine the terrifying place that monsters come from. His mother got him to sleep by telling him that monsters do not truly exist, and the old men were only trying to frighten him. He fell into dreams with the sweet sound of maternal love in a bedtime lullaby.

Darkwald is the place he imagined.

When Titus grew up he learned that his mother had lied to him every night. Monsters do exist, but only within the hearts of men. When he was disowned by his family and excommunicated by his order, he wondered where evil and hatred come from. All he had ever done was love, and they hated him for it. His mother hugged him one last time, and turned away with tears in her eyes. What could make someone loath another being so much and without cause? He imagined the god forsaken land that could be the source of despair and wickedness. He decided that place, if it existed, was where he must go. Maybe in that place he could find the origins of hatred.

Darkwald is the place he imagined.

A few months later he learned where evil came from. He learned that not only do monsters exist inside men, but their hatred manifest and took form. All of their plotting and malevolence took form in the night and the horrors of their nightmares became real. Titus learned the stories he heard as a child where all true.

Corvus was not surprised when the Werewolf lead him to Darkwald. He had seen the place so many times in his dreams that knew exactly where the Wolf was going. None of the horror and evil inside of the forest surprised him; all of it was familiar. However, he had not foreseen the quiet town in the core of the baneful woods. The large palisade took him by surprise, as did the proud white horse tied up near the gate.

Corvus had been without a clue from the Wolf for two days, and came to the road to ease his traveling. When he saw the horse he increased his pace but was stopped by a thick fog that seemingly came out of nowhere. Given the location and concentration of the fog, he guessed it to be supernatural. Proceeding with caution, he continued up the road.

At the gate, he saw a man. “Hey! Hey! What’s going on? Someone let me in!” he shouted into the empty fog behind the gate. The man was very tall, and made Corvus feel inferior. His armor was not in great condition, so he must have been on the road for a long time, or did not have enough peace to have it repaired. Corvus knew what that was like, and it reminded him of the poor condition of his own armor. He had been on the road for four years chasing after a beast. His legs were caked with mud and his pauldrons no longer shined. Seeing this tall, proud knight look beaten down, Corvus felt empathy. He would like to share stories with this man if he had time.

Time was short. No one was around, but the sounds of battle pierced the air. A shrieking howl erupted from somewhere behind the walls. What’s going on in there? Corvus thought. Wolves? He frowned, and his sympathetic eyes grew cold.

He took a few steps closer to the knight and said, “No one is coming. We’ll have to get inside on our own.”


< Message edited by Vanir -- 12/28/2015 16:33:51 >
MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 265
11/17/2015 20:44:50   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 Marietta was looking forward to the lessons, was she? They would see how much she was looking forward to them after they'd started.

And from what she'd seen when Marietta drew her blade, there was more than a little that could be improved on. Starting with how she was holding it. Who held a one-handed blade with both hands?

"In that case, there's no time like the present," she spoke up. "Try holding your blade with one hand. And relax. It's supposed to be an extension of your arm, not a separate entity."

Proving her point, she darted forward, dancing towards two of the three foxes on the two of them, making sure not to move far enough from Marietta to let any of them get between them.

Her father had drilled her in swordplay as a child, and she'd taken her lessons to heart. She was quick and light on her feet, and her blade danced in her hand. Where her throwing knife could only graze the creatures, her sword could bite them. Could and did. The creatures moved too quickly for her to hit them every time, but her skill with a blade was more than enough that, when she was able to get close enough, she could land solid blows onto them.

The giant... undead flea? was a surprise, and one that nearly cost her as one of the foxes came within a hair's breath of latching onto her arm, but it was a distraction she forced herself to ignore for the time being.

Well, it was a distraction she mostly forced herself to ignore. What on earth was that thing?

Just when she thought she'd seen it all.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 266
11/18/2015 21:41:36   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta smiled despite herself at Sera’s admonishment, carefully shifting her grip on the hilt of the weapon so it was held in her left hand alone. The blade wavered slightly before the half-elf could steady it, and the hunter’s smile turned to a grimace. Relax? How could she possibly relax at a time like this? There were creatures here that were trying to kill all of them, and she had next to no idea what she was doing.

The blade in her hand was strange to her hand despite the long years it had rode at her hip. It was little heavier than her bow, but it felt odd and unfamiliar in her grip; its balance was all off. If she couldn’t hold the weapon without feeling awkward, how was she supposed to make it a part of herself? Give her a bow and she could take a bird on the wing at twenty paces; with a bow she knew what she was about. This sword business was utterly disconcerting.

Watching as Sera moved in and set her own blades to work, Marietta was struck by the thought that the bounty hunter was everything with a sword that she was with a bow. Perhaps it was simply a matter of confidence and experience. The half-elf stepped up alongside Sera as the bounty hunter engaged two of the dire foxes. While the hunter had no doubt of Sera’s ability to handle her chosen pair of foes, three might prove a more difficult prospect.

So Marietta did what she could to lend a hand. Advancing on the last dire fox, the half-elf did her best to emulate one of her old comrades, whipping the shamshir left and right through wide, looping cuts. She was focused, for now, on driving the creature back and delaying it. The town’s defenders were rallying, and all they had to do was stay alive long enough to concentrate the defense. It was unlikely the dire foxes would stay once they were heavily outnumbered.

That moment was drawing closer, for a massive… thing… came barreling down the street, lunging for another of the dire foxes. Marietta, shocked by the outlandish and sudden appearance of the massive flea, stumbled out of the rhythm of her attack. Her vulpine opponent took advantage of the opening, leaping and snapping at her. The half-elf throw up her arm in defense, crying out in pain as the beast’s fangs tore a red line across her forearm just behind her guard. Marietta kicked out reflexively, driving the monster back and awkwardly transferring the blade to her right hand. “It’s fine, I’m fine!” She snarled, cursing her ineptitude and hoping that she wasn’t about to cost Sera her life.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 267
11/19/2015 21:41:49   
Draycos777
Member

Drei ignored the human rouge as she fought against Vier and Sieben. Instead he went straight for the pointy-eared one. It was clear from the way it shock and her awkward stance, that she was using an unfamiliar weapon. A wounded fox and an untrained human; the two were on mostly even ground in terms of fighting power. Although the the pointy-eared one began to use the weapon with more confidence after exchanging words with the rouge, she was still inexperienced with the weapon. All he had to do was get under the archer during one of her wide swings. That moment arrived when the archer turned her focus upon something else for a split second. Surprised, the pointy-eared one lifted her left arm up in defense. Drei's fangs raked across her forearm, however, he was instantly kicked backwards.

Drei paused to taste the blood in his mouth. It tasted like fresh kills from the forest. He would enjoy his meal tonight. Anger and vengeance colored the fox's eyes.

“It’s fine, I’m fine!”

The archer snarled her condition, to her ally Drei assumed. This was good. Now, now she understood how he felt, and he would continue to wear her down. Drei prepared to continue his attack again, this time aiming for the legs.


While Vier and Sieben were fighting the rouge, Sieben was tackled to the ground while he was focused on dodging the rouge's attacks. Vier, paused to help, but didn't realize that the rouge's speed and focus wasn't to be trifled with just because she was human. The rouge was soon upon Vier, and although his speed allowed him to escape most of the attack, she still landed a decent blow to his left side. Vier refocused on the human infront of him. For now, at least, Sieben would have to deal with that on his own.

Sieben, on his part, wasn't please that this human child had somehow managed to not own sneak up behind him, but also was able to tackle him to the ground. Sieben tried to roll over, if he could get the situation reversed or get his paws underneath the kid, then it would be a simply matter to get him off. Sieben's hind legs also started kicking the child, aiming for the knees and groin.


The last thing Acht ever thought he would face would be a giant flea. However, this was the Darkwald, and here he was, dodging the legs of one that was trying to pin him down. Although he had been shot, thankfully his legs were fine, and he could work though the pain. Acht made use of the creature's large size and weaved though the legs into it's blind spots. Snapping at the legs and body wouldn't do much thanks to it's nature defenses, so he focused on dodging. Even if the flea were to somehow catch him, it would soon be disappointed. After all, the shadow fox was nothing but that, shadows. No matter how many times you cut them they wouldn't bleed. They hadn't reached that stage of their evolution yet.


The clip-clop of her wooden sandals could be heard as Shuyi reached the stone paving of Blackwater's main street. Seeing Kitsondra facing off against the packleader, she quickly placed the box she was carrying down, and opened it up. Within was a sheathed, curved, longsword, locked in place by a black string. The sword's design was much different than anything seen in the region of Blackwater or any of it's surrounding kingdoms. Picking it up, she tossed it towards Kitsondra and yelled.

"Catch!"

Turning her head in the direction of Shuyi's voice, Kitsondra saw the sword sailing through the air. Catching it with her right hand, Kitsondra slammed it into the ground, keeping the sheath standing upright. Quickly removing the string, Kitsondra grabbed the hilt and drew the blade. The blade was made of reinforced steel, with golden words engraved into both sides that read Genkaku on the left side and Masamune on the right. The outline of the blade pulsed with a faint purple glow. She had only used this sword once before, still, she shouldn't have any problems wielding it, even though it wasn't the same as her original weapon.

Shuyi, drew her scythe again, and ran to help out an elf who looked to be in trouble. Coming up besides her, Shuyi prepared to cast a spell of speed, so that the group could match the foxes.


As Neun and Zehn rounded the corner, they suddenly stopped at the sight of a giant flea trying it's best to pin down Acht. They thought of helping him, until Zehn noticed a human child hiding within the bushes near the inn. This was odd, why hadn't the child run away with it's parents? Then again, Sieben was fighting with one as well. However, this child looked like ti was hiding rather than fighting. Or so Zehn thought, but taking a closer look it seemed to be talking to someone, or something, but the fox could only see bugs around the child. Was it controlling the giant flea? There was only one way to find out.

Using his speed, Zehn came up behind the child. It have a small gasp of surprise at seeing the fox, but it was quickly cut off as Zehn wrapped his fangs around it human's neck. A quick shake of his head, and the fox had a ragdoll in it's mouth. Opening his mouth and letting the lifeless form of the child crumple to the ground, the sickening sound of the fox smacking the blood from the roof of his mouth could be heard, as Zehn opened and closed his jaw until the feeling of sticking blood was gone. He turned towards Acht, to see that the flea was still there. It would seem as though the child wasn't controlling the flea, though the cloud of black flies had left Ein and Zwei now.

Zehn and Neun looked at eachother. They could either attack the flea, or fight the pointy-eared one behind it that seemed to be putting something into a stick. Not wanting to deal with the giant insect, and seeing as how Acht seemed to be doing just fine on his own right now, they decided to charge at the pointy-eared human with the stick.

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 11/19/2015 21:46:26 >
AQ  Post #: 268
11/20/2015 6:59:45   
Remaint
Member

In his bloodlust, Crazy-Eyes hadn’t thought to expect the least probable of responses from his prey. The fox he had targeted ran a path under his legs, instead of doing the more typical response of dashing aside or away from the predator. It doesn’t matter, fluffy dinner, for do you know what I am? I am a flea, we are renowned for dirty tricks, and la mobilite!

A single maneuvering method can hardly work twice, especially if one’s opponent rivals oneself in agile prowess. Crazy-Eyes instantly suspected the canid’s tactic of attempting to track his blind spots and feigned to run forward, intentionally at a pace the fox can keep up with. The canid took the bait, ever staying just behind the flea’s hind legs, just before the flea jammed his fore legs into the ground in propulsion backwards. Barely a moment was felt before Acht found himself surrounded by thorny appendages in an embrace that whispered death. A second passes, and Crazy-Eyes pierced the rear of the canid’s skull with knife-like mouthparts, sucking all the way. The fluid, as opposed to liquid, yielded only a minor satisfaction to the consternation of Crazy-Eyes. It felt somewhat hollow, horribly dilute, as if someone lazily plugged magical essence into the air and called it a creation well-done. While his prey was disappointing on one hand, or claw as it were, it took mere seconds to drain the beast’s entire essence dry. Mere seconds enough for him to find that his partner was not in such a victorious position as himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She should have seen this coming, Folliwen thought. Plentiful time had been to her disposal, even enough for her to have rammed her ammunition down the musket’s barrel and re-place her ramrod. Further gracious seconds passed, as the elven chasseur leisurely took aim upon one vulpine canid offending a sword-wielding human. It was at this point when two more hellcanids barreled straight into Folliwen. She lost her musket falling down, and would have surely lost the blood-brimmed vessels within her neck had she not intentionally collapsed forward with the violence. The vulpine hellcanids were quick as herself to reorient their positions upon the lack of resistance and she fought hard to gain the side of one vulpine body, narrow scratches and looming bites accompanying her throughout.

Folliwen had shoved a hand upon the underside of a canid’s jaw, desperately dragging herself so that the particular body it belonged to lay between the more distant hellcanid and her own. During the struggle, the further hellcanid was ruthless in gnashing about her torso, slashing its teeth throughout Folliwen’s arms, chest and waist. It was only due to her protective coat that the vulpine razors found purchases of tasteless wool, ungainly, thick cloth, all without bleeding flesh.

Just as the chasseur finally withdrew her bayonet however, she felt fangs scraping through her breeches, raking down her thighs. Loosing screams, Folliwen frantically stabbed Neun in the neck as Zehn left bloody tears upon her legs. The pain was searing, and the feeling forced tears to well, panic to set. She could die here, alone, with no-one even knowing her name. The thought was horrible. She would become food for foreign beasts, fertilizer for plants completely alien. Maggots of an unknown land would infest her rotten corpse. Folliwen bled, and she screamed.

Things took for a slightly different turn when the elf somehow lost her grip on Neun and began kicking in forceful, ungraceful flow against Zehn’s snout. With every repulse Folliwen sought to retreat, but Zehn was sinister in its pursuit for her life. The hellcanid was fast, and for every blow the chasseur missed, another strip of flesh was ripped from her body. The tenth hellcanid was keen in avoiding the giant spike wielded by his prey, always chasing from terribly awkward angles and closing in just when Folliwen tries to reposition. The chasseur was perpetually floored, unable to cover herself in time if she attempted to stand. She was deeply fearful too, yet a certain hubris prevented her from calling for aid. Still, her thoughts cried, cried for anyone to relieve her of this torture.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes, Crazy-Eyes wished he had arms. Well, he had them, but they weren’t lobster arms proper. The giant flea, still not even twice the height of his furry opposition, grimaced as he plowed aside Neun. He only had enough surface area to impact a single fox. Additionally, the arthropod knew the not-delectable foxes were inconveniently durable, and he had to deal with this particular one before saving his pointy-eared friend. He had accompanied the soft female ever since she was but a small girl, and to see her once more on the brink of death made him hiss in frustration. Always have to save your arssse.

Crazy-Eyes left the body of Acht a fraction of moments ago, and hoped it won’t return anytime soon. Anytime later would be great, though! I could do with a permanent snack, even if a bit tasteless.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 11/20/2015 8:33:22 >
AQW  Post #: 269
12/3/2015 21:18:04   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta glared daggers at the dire fox as it licked its chops and positively smiled at her. “Hellspawn,” she muttered, holding the sword out in front of her awkwardly. The blade felt even more unnatural in her right hand. It was heavy and unbalanced, and the half-elf was not at all certained that she would be able to hold her own for very long against the shadowy creature, despite its own wounded condition.

In a perfect world, Sera would swiftly finish her battle with her pair of dire foxes and come rushing to the hunter’s rescue. If Marietta knew anything, however, it was that this was anything but a perfect world. The half-elf expected to face her foe alone. She accepted that, lifted her sword, and readied herself for the next exchange.

As a hunter, Marietta knew how to be still, to watch and measure and wait for the right time and the right shot. Marietta had always been a hunter, and her father had joked more than once that she had been born with a bow in her hand. But Marietta had been a scout once too, a battlefield archer, veteran of a dozen bloody engagements on an intimate scale. And if a hunter knew how to be still, an archer knew how to move.

The dire fox lunged low, snapping at the half-elf’s ankles. Marietta danced to the side, looping a cut down at the beast’s skull. Dropping to the ground the beast slid under the strike, and the rose in snarling pursuit. The half-elf turned and stepped, giving ground without actually giving away ground, utilizing space without being driven away from her allies. There was something dance-like about the movement as the hunter turned and shuffled and spun away from the dire fox’s swipes and bites, replying with her own fairly ineffectual slashes.

As a duel the fight was going nowhere fast, though Marietta’s heart was pounding and her breathing was elevating from the exertion. But then, the half-elf had little intention of killing the dire fox unless a golden opportunity presented itself. Her purpose, as it had been since the beginning, was to stall for time, and as a strange woman stepped up to her shoulder, Marietta smiled tiredly. Maybe things were going to work out after all.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 270
12/10/2015 11:17:36   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 Distractions were bad in the middle of a fight. Sera knew this. She also knew that distractions were unavoidable. Battles had too much chaos for them to never happen.

That didn't change the fact that distractions, in the middle of a fight, were potentially lethal. Get distracted at the wrong instant, be unable to recover from said distraction, and it was very likely that it would be the last mistake you ever made.

Luckily, both she and Marietta were aware of this. And were also skilled enough fighters to mostly recover from the distraction that was the giant undead flea - seriously, what was that thing? - and escape serious harm. They were both injured, she could feel blood pooling under her armor where the fox had gotten her, and Marietta's "It's fine, I'm fine!" was indicative that she'd also been injured by those teeth - for not seeming fully solid, these things had bite - but they could both still fight.

And Sera had finally managed to find the rhythm that was this particular dance. Thrust, thrust, dodge, parry, step left and spin into a sweeping slice that would decapitate a weaker animal. Or at least a slower one. She was consistently only able to gouge these animal's sides and bite into their shoulders with her blades. She was faster and more agile than the average human. She was still only human, and bound by those limitations.

"Remember, Sera. In a fight, you must always be aware of everything around you. Your opponent as well as the surrounding environment and the people you are with. The dagger you don't see is the one that can kill you." Her father's advice from when she was young had saved her life countless times over. So when she sensed movement that she couldn't see, she moved, skipping back in a tricky flurry of footsteps and swordplay that was designed to keep the fox focused on her, away from biting her, and move herself and the creature to where she could better see the intruder.

But Marietta didn't seem worried by the strange woman's appearance, even seemed glad to see her - were they friends? - and while she knew little about the half-elf, she trusted her judgement. Besides, that stance that the strange woman took wasn't one that implied an attack was forthcoming, and the way she was looking at the foxes was another implication that this woman had appeared as an ally, not an enemy.

Though even if the stranger was an enemy, she thought ruefully as she dodged the foxes jaws by a narrow margin - she was starting to get too tired to keep this up - there wasn't much she was going to be able to do about it. These irksome beasts were that slightest bit too quick and agile for her to effectively take down. And it was all she could do to keep the fox on her from doing more serious damage than the bites and scratches she'd been unable to prevent or dodge. If the woman were a threat, Marietta would have to deal with it on her own unless things changed drastically.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 271
12/24/2015 9:39:59   
Draycos777
Member

Finding the rhythm of a battle is not an easy thing to do, even for trained warriors. Matching yourself with the rhythm of another? Even harder. However, thanks to her specialization in support magic, such a task wasn't impossible for Shuyi. Casting the spell, "Speed Field", which covered the area she, the elf and the rouge were fighting in, it allow everyone she deemed an ally a boost in speed, comparable to that of the foxes'. The fox that Marietta was fighting didn't seem too interested in Shuyi's appearance, however, as it went right back to attacking the half-elf. Using this opportunity, Shuyi began trying to match her steps to those of the half-elf's. Predicting, with some success, when Marietta would step back, so that she could step forward and strike at the fox. Drei, however, was still nimble and the best Shuyi could get out of her attacks were cuts and scraps at best. Realizing that, purely attacking this fox head-on would get them anywhere. So Shuyi waited for the right moment to strike again, and was rewarded. In it's chase, Drei slowed down a bit to keep from tipping over himself, due to a spurt of dizziness of vision from his wounds. Wasting no time, Shuyi immediately used her scythe as a grapple instead of a slashing weapon. Pulling the fox towards her, then using her weight, augmented by the magic she used in her last fight to pin the fox to the ground.

“Now!” Shuyi yelled over at Marietta; “Finish it o-”

Before she could end her sentence, thick vines burst from the ground wrapping around the two women. Shuyi tried desperately to get free, but soon realized that the more she struggled the tighter the vines wrapped themselves around her. Looking around, Shuyi saw that everyone else, besides Kitsondra had also been bound by these vines.

“The foxes!”

They were free now and if they decided to attack now… it would be bad for them. However, none of the foxes seemed to be moving. If fact they simply stood there as if they were awaiting orders.

“Oh, no…this isn't good either.”


Vier was becoming ever more annoyed with the battle's progress. Sure he was faster than the rouge, that much was for sure, however, the rouge was still too well trained for Vier to best quickly. At this rate, Vier would only win by wearing out the human, however, Drei needed his help now and by the time Vier finished here, he would be too tired to help. Vier switched to looking for an opening, so that he could charged the two fighting Drei. However, every time he believe he had found one, the rouge's attacks cut him off. After the third try, he gave out a frustrated yelp and aimed for the rouge, trying to jump on top of the human.

He was pushed back, in mid-air, however, as thick vines came out of the ground and wrapped around the rouge. Vier stood there for a moment, before running of to Drei's aid.


Zenh and Neun's usual plan of attack worked out perfectly with the pointy-eared one. After knocking it down, Neun went for the head while Zenh attacked the legs. It was going well, until the pointy-eared human pull a knife from off of her stick. Stabbing Neun with the knife she kicked Zenh in the nose, forcing him to back off. Neun, due to the rapid succession of wounds, fell to the ground. Furiously, Zenh changed his target from the human's legs to her neck, looking to end it's life. Neun, recovered and was about to charge from behind when she was rammed into by the giant flea. In his anger, Zenh counterattacked, and hit the flea in the side. He then stood in-between the flea and Neun. However, Zenh's anger soon turned into surprise when vines came from out of the ground and bound the pointy-eared human and the flea. Using the time given, Zenh helped Neun back on her feet.


After dispatching of his mate, Kitsondra now had Ernst pinned down. Taking Genkaku and plunging it into the fox, Kitsondra poured her magic into the blade until it glowed a bright purple. Leaning and slashing forward, the blade cut through the fox like butter, leaving behind two half that soon faded away.

“Oh ho?”

Kitsondra quickly looked up in response to the voice. In front of her was a rather tall man dress in all white with a black twin-tail coat vest and a cane.

“Tsk, dam it all. It was Guglilmo”

Kitsondra cursed under her breath.

“I see you haven't changed a bit,” The man smiled at Kitsondra; “you're still as brutal as ever, Queen.”

Kitsondra noticed that the others had been trapped, the vines likely didn't aim for her because Guglilmo wanted to deal with her personally or because she uses the same type of magic and it couldn't tell the difference between the two.

“Hmph, as if you're one to talk, Guardian.” Kitsondra returned, giving off a cold air fitting of a queen, despite actually not wanting to fight the man in-front of her if possible.

“So, what is it that you want?”

Guglilmo gave Kitsondra a dejected look.

“Come on, you know exactly why I am here. I've come to take back what you stole.” Guglilmo pointed towards the Masamune in Kitsondra's hand; “Please make this easier for the both of us and handle over that sword.”

Kitsondra took a fight stance; “I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline your offer.”

Guglilmo sighed.

“Very well then.”

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 12/25/2015 22:49:46 >
AQ  Post #: 272
12/24/2015 21:25:48   
Remaint
Member

Whatever emotion bordering frustration and possibly concern was now replaced with further frustration and indignation for the giant flea. Inconveniently durable planty wire had sprung out of no-where and wrapped themselves around the arthropod’s central body with just enough distance and thickness to demand few hours worth of effort to erode. Crazy-Eyes loosed a hiss that sounded murder, and darted his eyes madly before directing hisses toward a two-footed leech clad in fresh cloth that simply begs to be stained with blood.

You! Bleached Leech! How would you like it if I shat over that stupid suit of yours!

Once more, Crazy-Eyes directed his anger towards the present planty wire, and clamped his mouth-blades into the fleshy greens. His eyes lit up briefly.

You know what!? I will keep your greeny wires! They are delicious, and will be your offering, “fellow” blood-drinker!

To the elven chasseur, things seemed to have gone from horrific, to outright unsalvageable. She was already floored to begin with and couldn’t yet find the slightest advantage to best her harasser barring her long bayonet. The moment that trunk-like, firm vines entangled her limbs, she squirmed vehemently and wildly, but to pathetic avail. In Folliwen’s strained efforts, her only hope in the form of a large metal spike was wrenched from her grip and she soon found herself completely immobilised upon the ground. Abreast to dirt and mud, limbs bound tight and with hardly breath to spare, she closed her eyes with a defeated expression, dreading what may follow.

Folliwen could do little in her prone state, and when the threat of hellcanid jaw didn’t come to bare, she opened her eyes once more, finding her sight upon a very suspicious figure dressed in white. The chasseur’s state of bondage by damp and chilling plant matter forced her to calm somewhat and she listened tentatively to the occurring conversation as she observed her surroundings.

The majority of former combatants were in similar dismal positions, even including her companion arthropod. The vines seemed to be placed with a small sense of strategy in regards to Crazy-Eyes, as they wrapped around the smoothly plated thorax instead of the serrated legs. Rather relievingly, the hellcanids have halted their hostility, temporarily may that be. Folliwen’s gaze then wandered to the only free individual, the pyromancer. The chasseur took the time to analyse her features.

Not particularly tall, effectively my height. Hair, skin and eyes telling of un-humane results or origins. Likely a demon or vampire. Her sword...hm, perhaps taken from a fallen paladin. Such blades, katana as the Remilese generalise it, tend to be fairly hefty, slightly crude and mostly utilitarian. For this one to be so decorated implies she stole from someone well above the typical Ashigaru.

Once more Folliwen looked toward the man in white, who apparently laid claim to the rather unremarkable sword. He dressed...eccentrically. The chasseur felt a cold discomfort as other shady beings similarly dressed came to her contemplation. Yes...dressed as the malevolent devils who deal in souls, the dubious demons who deal in bodies...or just a really unpleasant collector. In any case, the chasseur had the 'privilege' to encounter persons of untrustworthiness equating to the mysterious person in the present back within the Archipelago of Fog and she had never once been pleased with the results. Her eyes darted away at the thought. Perhaps I shouldn't use 'pleased' in that sentence.

Soon enough, the dampness from the ground and vines sank into the chasseur’s torn breeches and exposed neck. Folliwen shifted what little amount possible from the chill, but that only provoked a harsh squeeze from her organic bindings and she involuntarily whimpered a soft cry.


< Message edited by Remaint -- 12/25/2015 0:12:47 >
AQW  Post #: 273
12/27/2015 18:16:15   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta stepped and turned, pirouetting to one side as the dire fox leapt again. A strange tingling sensation swept through the hunter, surprising her so much that she stumbled. Cursing in panic the half-elf quick-stepped, recovered, and then stumbled again. She was suddenly fast, too fast, and it took a moment for her mind to catch up with her feet as she narrowly evaded her assailant’s jaws. Marietta recognized the effect as some manner of spell; it must have come from the odd woman who had just appeared.

It would have been nice to have some warning. Still, any port would do in a storm, as Kenneth would have told her. The hunter’s blade flashed and the monstrous fox dipped below the strike just a hair too slow, losing the top of its right ear in payment. The beast howled in pained rage as Marietta skipped to one side. Next to her the strange woman swung and forced the dire fox farther back. The half-elf followed with her own strike, and for a moment the trio fell into rhythm of alternating strikes, driving the beast back with a number of minor wounds and near misses until the stranger managed to grapple the darkspawn and call for Marietta to finish it off.

The hunter moved up, weapon rising for the strike, before she cried out in shock. Thick vines burst from the ground, writhing over Blackwater’s defenders. She swung, cursing as a vine lashed across her wrist hard enough to knock the blade from her grasp. Marietta’s injured hand flashed to her belt and wrenched her utility knife free as the vine bound her right arm in a crushing grip. The half-elf hacked at the vine ineffectually, managing little more than to gouge a few chunks out of the woody growth. Another set of vines wrapped themselves around her legs tightly and the hunter snarled and twisted, sawing at the vines until her left arm was snared as well.

Marietta went still, not because struggling was useless, though it probably was. It was not because of the dire foxes either, though two of them were eying her and her new ally, and the unfortunate beast that was missing half its ear looked most unhappy. The reason the half-elf held so still was that the vine holding her left hand had twisted hard, bending her wounded limb up at a painful angle and setting the edge of her own knife against her throat. Blue eyes flicked from dire fox to dire fox, and then to the newly arrived cane-bearing figure, a quiet fury burning in her gaze.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 274
12/28/2015 13:23:53   
Master K
Member

"A long night awaits you, child..." A woman's voice told her.

She didn't even remember when she slipped in to the dream. The last thing she remembered was talking to some group of adventurers in the inn...but that didn't matter presently. Her head felt clouded, but she knew she was in a dream. She found herself standing in a large church chapel. It was empty, but it still looked spectacular. The walls were made of cobblestone, the tapestries that hung from the stone pillars had not lost their beauty, and the pews barely had a trace of dust. Moonlight was shining in through the stained glass windows that adorned the chapel. Marcelline looked behind her, only to see the large wooden doors sealed shut.

She turned to look up the isle, and saw someone ahead of her. A dark cloaked figure, kneeling at the altar. On the altar were a pair of torches alight and in holders, a jeweled dagger, and offerings of what appeared to be various flowers...Marcelline vaguely identified the plants as Periwinkle, Hyacinth and Lillies. Marcelline slowly walked up through the isle, carefully placing her hands on each pew as she based by. As she got closer to the altar, she could hear the woman was in prayer, though she was finishing up. The cloaked figure then stood, and Marcelline warily stood back from them.

"One day, you will find yourself in this very hall." The figure spoke. It was the same woman's voice from earlier.

"Why have you brought me in to a dream?" Marcelline said to her. "Are you yet another demon that wishes to take hold of me?"

The cloaked woman laughed.

"I can always call my kin in their sleep." The woman said. "You happen to be particularly receptive. Perhaps it's thy image of purity, or maybe it's thy desire for purpose that calls out."

With those words, the woman turned around to face her. The black robe and cloak she wore completely obscured her figure. Her face was covered by a large veiled hood, although Marcelline could vaguely make out the woman's spectacular blue eyes. Around the woman's neck on the outside of her robe was a small silver key. In her hands, she held a beautiful dagger. It's handle was silver, but the blade was made of a foreign crystal material that Marcelline had never seen the likes of before. It had many shades of blue and black, but also had many traces of orange and yellow. It was almost as if someone took a moonlit forest and sealed it in a gemstone.

"I mean no harm, and I have no desire to control you." The woman said. "I merely wish to...observe you. I see you've made friends."
She pointed the dagger towards Marcelline. Her Witchtree Branch and Dagger began to glow a vivid blue color. She quickly tossed them on to the ground, and watched them take form. The cloaked figure laughed slightly as the objects began to slowly coalesce and form human figures. The moonlight pouring in from the stained glass windows seemed to intensify.

The Witchtree Branch formed the figure of a man. He wore a elegant robe that looked like the nights sky, and lined with designs of swirling nebulae and stars. His most jarring feature was his face. He appeared to have light, sandy brown hair, but his eyes were...off. They were yellow and...sideways. The more Marcelline looked at him, the more twisted he looked. His form would flicker between that of a man and a horned goat. The horned were quite long, and protruded in such a sense to form a crescent. Marcelline looked over to what was once the dagger and saw a familiar image. The dagger had transformed in to a woman. She greatly resembled the paladin Istarelle, though instead of a holy symbol, a full moon graced the chestplate of her silver armor. The woman had incredibly long silver hair, and aggressive yellow eyes. The more Marcelline focused on her, the more her head shifted in to that of a wolf's. Both of them were kneeling before the cloaked figure, wordlessly.

"Ah, Halvmane, Diavolana..." The cloaked figure spoke. "My troublesome children. Young witch, I am impressed that you are so brazen as to keep demons in your thrall. You have great potential."

The cloaked woman turned to Marcelline, and immediately stabbed her in the stomach with the moonlight dagger. Marcelline hardly had a chance to react, and felt a comforting cold seep through her body.

"It will all make sense in due time. Beware the stone faced saint..." The woman said, becoming distant.



Marcelline woke up, having fallen asleep at the bar in the Hallow's Inn. The tea she was having before had long since been finished and taken up by a wench. She looked around to see the Inn mostly empty, save for Sloan washing out a mug.
"Wh-where is everyone?" Marcelline asked him.

"There's a commotion happening in the town. Er...it's better if you see it with your own eyes. You might understand it better."

Marcelline, feeling lost and disconnected, slowly got back on her feet, took out her wand, and walked out the front door of the Hallows Inn to investigate what had happened since she fell in to the dream...
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 275
Page:   <<   < prev  8 9 10 [11] 12   next >   >>
All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> Role Playing >> RE: The Hallows Inn
Page 11 of 12«<89101112>»
Jump to:






Icon Legend
New Messages No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages Locked w/o New Messages
 Post New Thread
 Reply to Message
 Post New Poll
 Submit Vote
 Delete My Own Post
 Delete My Own Thread
 Rate Posts




Forum Content Copyright © 2018 Artix Entertainment, LLC.

"AdventureQuest", "DragonFable", "MechQuest", "EpicDuel", "BattleOn.com", "AdventureQuest Worlds", "Artix Entertainment"
and all game character names are either trademarks or registered trademarks of Artix Entertainment, LLC. All rights are reserved.
PRIVACY POLICY


Forum Software © ASPPlayground.NET Advanced Edition