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Wolf #628602 Tue 28/08/12 06:20 UTC
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Darian

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the chaos below. She cursed softly at the two misses and more so at the one rider who did not slow even with two of her arrows. They had an archer among them, sort of, with a non skill bow. She aimed for him, the soft spot between helm and and armor, then let fly.

Wolf #628626 Tue 28/08/12 11:37 UTC
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Cesare

Fully on his feet now, looking for who to target, his eyes seeing but his mind not taking in fully everything that is happening - especially with the Avatar. He is looking for any vulnerability he can exploit. And so he sees the change to crossbow from the outrider and realises his intentions.

"Darian! Outrider with crossbow."

He points. He doesn't have that range.

Then he looks back to those nearer figuring that the horses may well be less armoured and getting these riders on the ground would help their guys.

"Target the horses!"

He knows the are some here that may not like the idea but it may be the best tactic.

His eyes seek out the nearest horse flesh and he aims and throws hard.

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Mikal

The blow lifts him off his feet and hurls him back towards the well, where he lands and skids a few feet on the ground.

Shaking off that blow as quickly as he can, he recognizes the benefit the ruined well offers, and he scrambles to his feet right next to it.

A moment of concentration and a quick mental prayer to Jvrill and his sword gleams (OOC - Casting Truesword). He circles around the well wall to the opposite side from the rider, knowing that the man will need to ride around it to get at him, thus eliminating his horse's momentum.

He pauses, ready for two different actions depending on what the man does. If he charges at him, and tries to get his horse to leap across the well, Mikal will drop down next to the wall, using it defensively, and will thrust upwards with his sword, attempting to disembowel the horse as it passes overhead. If, instead the man closes to the well, and begins to try to ride around it to get at Mikal, then he will take a running step up onto the edge of the well and launch himself at the man, sword leading, trying to impale him and knock him off his mount. If he just ignores Mikal and goes after someone else, Mikal will move to assist Daxia by trying to strike the Avatar from behind.

Last edited by Zeim; Tue 28/08/12 19:46 UTC.
Zeim #628738 Tue 28/08/12 18:21 UTC
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[OOC: YES!! Mikal's turn to get blood and gore and internal organs raining down upon him!!]


"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
Kel #628754 Tue 28/08/12 19:16 UTC
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ooc note: If I remember right, Cesare had mentioned that he collected not just small rocks ... but various sizes ... which would include some large ones too.

Wolf #628756 Tue 28/08/12 19:33 UTC
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OOC: with her strength, how big could kadri pick up to throw/drop?

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[OOC You remembered correctly! Large rock plus gravity = pain! lol ]

Gypsy #629312 Thu 30/08/12 20:06 UTC
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OOC NOTE ... kADRI, BY HERSELF, COULD WRESTLE UP A FOOTBALL SIZED ROCK ... WITH HELP, A BREADBOX SIZED ROCK ...

Wolf #629351 Thu 30/08/12 23:18 UTC
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Kadri

"Cesare! A rock, give him a headache!"

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Bekkah

She saw what Kadri was going to do and while she wasn't the type hurt another, she determined that if she didn't help the little girl, she was going to hurt herself, so in a way, she was helping Kadri.

"Let me help you Kadri." she said bending to help lift the rock where Kadri wanted it.

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Cesare

He glances around, grinning at both Kadri and Bekkah, glad that his afternoon's work won't go to waste.

Gypsy #629619 Fri 31/08/12 20:00 UTC
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Dean

The shock of the rider's hammer hitting his shield was greater than any he had felt before. His arm temporarily goes numb as his eyes stare disbelievingly at the hole in his shield. "How can anything hit that hard?", he thinks. But there is no time to ponder such imponderables. His training takes over his body and he lunges towards the rider and is pleased to feel his sword hit home. The satisfying thought passes fleetingly through his mind that this fiend may be hurt! The stern countenance of his teacher, Knight Kevin, flashes and yells "Don't stop!" as he had every time Dean had managed to score a hit during their early practice rounds "...your enemy will not stop! You must move!" And Dean does so, striking at the outrider again as quick as his reflexes allow.

Mokie #629760 Sat 01/09/12 21:10 UTC
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Daxia

She stood her ground, trusting her Goddess to strike the first blow against the Avatar. And in the moment He was stunned, grunting as his blade struck her ribs, ignoring the pain, Daxia swung her sword in an arc towards... across... through the hellsteed's neck with all her strength. If Ironsilver could cleave through Darksteel, the neck of a hellsteed should be no greater challenge. Her first goal was to unhorse the Avatar.

It would never be a fair or equal fight, but the Dayalan grasped at every advantage she could find.



"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
Kel #629955 Sun 02/09/12 19:14 UTC
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Out of Character Note: This is a post I'd like to share with you. It was done in private, almost a month ago, well before the battle on the temple top began. This is the reason behind the event that occurs during the battle of the Bordertown Temple, when you ask why, or when I made the decision, this is both the why and when.

But mostly, it's a nice post I wanted to share with everyone else.



Daxia

She leaned a shoulder against the wall, her back still to Tashka, and looked out the window again. The younger Dayalan stood silently for a good long time, not moving... save for once when she reached back to yank her hair free from its attachment to her armor, though it might have been easier to simply pull out her dagger and cut it off.

After a long while, she finally said, "Very often, there is no choice.

"Even when all those around you say that you do, indeed, have a choice... there is no choice.

"I once asked Gilly what it was like to have a unicorn as a partner. I had been an Initiate for hardly a year; I was young, curious, almost awestruck by Brighteyes. The look he gave her was so clear in its message that even I could tell he said something to the effect of If you say one word, Gillyflower, I will step on your foot. And then Gilly -- being Gilly -- threatened to plait ribbons through his mane. Pink ones, as I recall.

"But she did say one thing that has stayed with me. They keep us honest.

"I did not understand that at the time, even though she was patient in trying to explain. I simply had no frame of reference. As Dandy later said, life in the Vale is... safe and predictable."

Daxia was silent again... a fullhand of slow breaths, and another fullhand.

"I can see the Patterns written on the world; I see the Paths that wind into the future. Before leaving the Vale, there was a Path that lead to the destruction of the world as we now know it, with one fork leaving Dawnview Vale safe behind a Snowgate Pass that would be blocked for generations, and another fork that left the Vale in ruins as well."

She took one deep breath.

"We took actions in Cragside, and it seemed as though we had choices... but in order to do the right thing, it was necessary for us to do exactly what we did.

"We rescued an Easterner, a princess of Kh'Lhy'Ra no less. You would think that a Dayalan would certainly have a choice in the matter, and it would most assuredly not be the choice I made.

"And yet... again... what we did, what I did was the right thing to do.

"The Path into the future of destruction, both forks... is no more.

Finally, she turned around to face her Priestess again, arms crossed loosely over her stomach.

"I am still young, Sister. So I will complain that my favorite tunic and my sturdy shield have been ruined... though given that Gilly was my teacher, I suspect I would still jokingly complain about that if I had twice the years I do.

"You and Lady Linette have been torn from the circle of Time, and that is an abomination. And I know that the right thing to do is break this curse and return you to the circle, to restore Order. I do not have a choice; I will do what must be done.

"But do not tell me not to tear myself up, do not tell me not to grieve. For until a unicorn happens upon me in my travels, my heart is all I have to keep me honest. If I am not feeling -- at the very least -- a tugging in my heart over a choice I must make, then I have not properly examined my choices to know which is the right one.

"Whatever happens will happen. Yes.

"I will pick myself up, and I will celebrate the lives of Starlord Priestess Tashka of Darkdown and Priestess Linette of Corliss. I will do all I can to clean and Purify our well for the kind elderly woman to now lives atop our Temple. I will move on, for there are still things Kisa means for me to do before I return to the Vale."

The Initiate regarded the Starlord for a handful of heartbeats, blue eyes clear and dry -- a surprise to Daxia herself -- before slowly smiling. It was a smile that seemed to capture and hold a host of emotions... joy and sadness, satisfaction and frustration, humor and grief.

"I remember everything, Tashka. Perhaps that is how my brain was made, perhaps it is because I was trained by the finest teacher of this Age, perhaps it is a bit of both. But I remember everything I see, and everything I hear.

"Everything.

"You will be remembered by your Sisters, as will she whose heart is twined with yours.

"Because that is the right thing to do."

Last edited by Wolf; Sun 02/09/12 19:14 UTC.
Wolf #629958 Sun 02/09/12 19:17 UTC
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The Heartwood
Bordertown
Sunset
Hasday, The Twenty-Second Day of the Month of Crown of Ice, 2623


Daxia, Mikal, Cesare, Darian, Longtooth, Bekkah, Dean, Kadri, Mikal and Romana

Dragonstooth Tavern

... set and balance, you don't have to see your target to know its there, that's what Mother always said ... its not a matter of strength ... it's a matter of focus, so what if they are stronger, faster than you. Maybe Aunt Kathena Silvereyes was right; the moment you try to win, you lose.

It was the first of many dances this night and this one was between the youngest Koromov and Jagnar's courier.

Elsewhere

Upon a rooftop there was a dark chuckle as the crimson spectre rose above the town and temple. It would take more than sword and crossbow to slake that one's hunger.

When it stopped, the cloaked figure took a step forward and cursed.

The Temple Ruins

Tlot-tlot.

" ... k'ahshallah'al'hranishkhament ... k'ahshallah'ahnamel'Jheronoohhal'marinshkens!"

The pale rider rose in his stirrups, and with a sweep of his hand he brought the demon's attention to Mohlkavin's Heavy Horse, the Bordertown walls and the top of the temple.

The massive demon turned then, with a hungry roar seemed satisfied, an arc of deadly energy ripping across the firld of battle, shattering the Horse's front line. the fact that it also cut through a number of the Chaos Riders seemed ... acceptable.

" ... k'ahshallah'al'hranishkhament ... k'ahshallah'ahnamel'al Romanishkah'al'Khy'lhy'ra'marinshkens!'

With a sweep of her hand, from her rock out cropping, Romana indicated the horde that spilled out of the Forest and the Forest beyond.

The demon paused again ... for a single heartbeat.

it was in that single heartbeat that so much occurred. Over the fire the snap of sinew, the whistle of fletching through air was lost- just as the clatter-snack of a crossbow's steel steel strings went unheard. The scream of a horse as that first arrow slammed into a heavy neck, not stopping until the bloody head burst through the other side, now that did echo over the temple top. The second silent shaft buried itself deel in the riders leg, perhaps even deep enough to pin him to the collapsing beast. Nor the solid thwock as Cesare's smooth round stone technically missed its mark, harmless to outrider and his falling steed, but striking the crossbow hard and sure.

All in a heartbeat, so fast, a mere instance. Thus it was impossible to say just which of them was the cause of the rider's miss; true his bolt sailed out towards the rock outcropping where Romana stood, only to sail past her back ... slashing a path through her billowing cloak but leaving her unharmed.

Perhaps it took all of them.

Then the heartbeat was over.

Tlot-tlot.

" ...yhash'gosh'pervyhm!"

They were Romana's two harsh words. And she had pointed quite specifically into the battlefield.

At the pale rider.

The pale rider looked back, still. And then he turned, turned and ran, spurring his horse towards the Greenland's path as fast as he could.

The demon followed.

Upon the tower top it did take two of them, Kadri and Bekkah, to hoist the large stone to the battlement's edge, but once there, once set it was just an easy push for Kadri to send it on it's downwards path. In some way it was a cruel blow for the Amberite; because it did hit it's mark, slamming straight down and unexpected upon the close target .... hitting not the outrider ... but the outrider's horse. There wasn't even a squeal or a whinny as its head was driven straight into the ground.

And a little bit more.

Tlot-tlot.

The outrider was thrown a little distance from his dead mount. As he rose his sword dragged along the ground, leaving a trail of sparks and fire. His attention snapped upwards, to the very top of the tower.

The other closer chaos rider, the one chasing Mikal chose the most direct route. Against the fires raging up the temple ruins it was a brutal silhouette, the horse leaping over the well, the New Jvrillian striking upwards with his short blade, into the belly, the sudden explosion of blood and offal as the blade drove true, straight up, and the downstroke of the outrider's hellsword.

It didn't burn, it was cold ... and Mikal felt it strike bone and it took a moment to realize it was his bone that the soulstealing blade had hit and crushed.

He went flying. Back into the rubble beyond the well.

He could shake himself up, at least to a sitting position. The outrider's horse lay sprawled on the edge of the well, a precarious balance, as if in any moment it might tumble it; for the moment it appeared still, with his short sword sticking straight up, still impaled in the beasts's stomach.

There was no sign of the outrider.

The real problem was that Mikal could not move his right arm.

Tlot-tlot.

Someone must been smiling upon the young Squire, however. The outrider's hammer slashed out and down, a sure blow that would have put a hole to match the one in his shield in his helm ... but the blow sailed just over Dean's head. Sir Kevin's training, however, seemed to be a bit more true than Marin's anger. Where the end of a first swing was only finished when it became the beginning of the next. Again his sword cut deep into the outrider's leg, this time shearing past steel and deeper, drawing out with bits of sinew and bone and a lot of blood.

In the middle of this, Daxia Yurisdotter stood her ground. The avatar, upon his fiery steed, simply laughed, for he too had been schooled simliar to their youngest, as his black axe was already driving down on her in a strong deadly arc.

Her stance was fixed, braced, and just as fast her own blade drove upwards. it trailed silver stars in its wake, bright spots of light almost blinding in the now fallen night. The hill was now only lit by fire, his Lod's illumination. Her light was gone and now only Daxia's sisters watched from above.

His axe struck true, a sudden snap at the end adding both power and changing its path.

The hellsteed screamed - it was no horse's scream, but one from a place of brimstone, of shatterings, where sense held no say. Her blade slashed across its throat ... but there was no blood. Only fire, it bled fire, fire that cauterized and sealed the wound once her blessed sword was no longer there.

From her feet daxia was driven. She felt the darksteel blade rend her armor, and like Mikal, it was cold, cold enough to feel like more than blood was being shorn from her. For a moment, for a moment all went black.

When she opened her eyes she was in a tumble, on the ground, her back against the temple well, her feet splayed out in front of her. Somehow she still held her teacher's blade, and probably the only reason she still had her shield was because it was strapped on.

She could still breath. But with each breath it was apparent just how close she had come to not breathing.

Tlot-tlot. The sharp sound of hoofbeats.

Like a shadow, it was between the Dayallan and the Avatar of Marin.

Eyes of deepest crimson glanced down, chiding, as if getting her chest sliced open was no excuse for laying down on the job.

There was a moment, a single beat.

Then, lowering his head, the black unicorn charged the hellsteed.







Wolf #630018 Sun 02/09/12 22:12 UTC
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Cesare

Romana is safe for now. He remembers to breathe, noting that her agressor has noted their presence. Quick glances below suggest that there is a much greater danger for both Daxia and Mikal.

"Support Daxia and Mikal."

Hoising another rock, he readies himself to target whichever of their opponents he spots first.

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Daxia

"How Dazi know..." she muttered under her breath.

She lifted a hand, heavy and leaden, and touched it to her chest, using her healing spell to mend up as much as possible.

"...if no one tell Dazi?"

Using the well for support, she managed to stand again...

"Brat."

...and quickly took stock of the situation.

"Mikal," she called to him as she strode after the unicorn, "if that thing falls into my well, you're fishing it out yourself!"

She whispered one more prayer. "My Lady, add your Wrath to my sword."

And then she headed straight for the Avatar, to fight at the unicorn's side.


[OOC: <s> Thanks and <whack> for sharing that post. I have a rating system for my own posts, based on the number of tissues I use when writing it. That one rated a 12. And then another one every time I re-read it. So the <whack> is just for making me use another tissue.]


Last edited by Kel; Mon 03/09/12 00:20 UTC. Reason: added note

"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
Kel #630046 Mon 03/09/12 00:36 UTC
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Mikal

**Damn.** He thinks for split second as the rider's sword slashes down and strikes his arm, just a moment after his own sword is yanked from his grip. It is an odd feeling, that something that feels so cold could burn so much. But his frustration is not at being wounded, even though this wound is not typical. It is at having had his sword ripped from his hand, again. A brief distracting thought passes through his head before he wipes it away to focus on the fight. He now knows what he will try to get enchanted into his new sword, assuming he survives this fight.

He focuses and offers thoughts of gratitude to Jvrill as he can feel the bones in his arm knit (OOC - Heal).

Glancing around, he sees the disemboweled horse teetering on the edge of the well, his sword sticking out of it's middle, and it's rider nowhere to be seen. He offers a brief prayer to Jvrill that the rider plunged into the well as his mount spasmed in it's death throws, but he can't be sure. Still, his focus is on retrieving his sword so he stands and runs to get it, looking at the scene around him as he does.

"I am hoping it's too late for that." He calls to Daxia, re-enforcing his hope for the now vanished rider.

(OOC - Wolf - If circumstances are such that this post does not work as written, let me know and I will edit. i.e. If his Heal does not fix his arm, or if the rider appears and blocks him, etc.)

Last edited by Zeim; Mon 03/09/12 00:58 UTC.
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ooc - the heals will get you both up and running! rider is no where to be seen

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(is there still anything at the base of the tower?)

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[Oh, yeah. You know that guy whose horse you mashed into the ground? He's right there, and he ain't happy. In fact, I think he's giving you the hairy eyeball.]


"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
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Darian

As the rider fell, the Hunter looked for another prey and found the Chaos Rider that looked upward. She loosed a shot towards him and another ....

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Kadri:

The small woman ...

Was mad. That such a beautiful animal had to die. Every death of such a beautiful animal was a crime ... Yes. Kadri was angry. That anger needed a target.

The rider. He was still there. He would suffer for this.

"My lady."

She says under her breath.

"Today the deer needs to take on the hunter. Needs to shoot back instead of just running. Must stand and fight, because there is no honor in this game. This hunter has no respect for the prey. This hunter is no honorable opponent. This hunter needs to be brought low. I do not ... find them ... amusing. May their aim ... falter and fail. And if they wish chaos let their chaos begin ... with themselves.

She pulls a bag, carefully tied, from her belt. If the man was looking up at her, soon enough he would have a face full of pepper - followed up by the largest rock she was able to handle herself.

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Bekkah

She could not watch the results of her efforts with Kadri and she found herself asking for forgiveness for her part in this. Then she was back to watching the events on the field below her. She saw Dean's battle along with Mikal's, but for the most part she was watching her sister in horror. She should be down there. She could help from there, but from here she was reduced to a spectator. A spectator forced to watch a nightmare unfold.

"Lady, help my sister see her way safely through this ordeal this day. I have already offered my life to your service, but if there is more that I can offer you, then I do so now." she said as she watched that massive swing knock her sister down and possibly out. Then she saw her move again and she let out the breath she had been holding.

"Anything my lady, anything." she repeated again as tears welled in her eyes.

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The Heartwood
Bordertown
Sunset
Hasday, The Twenty-Second Day of the Month of Crown of Ice, 2623


Daxia, Mikal, Cesare, Darian, Longtooth, Bekkah, Dean, Kadri, Mikal and Romana

The shattered crossbow was discarded ...

From the leather loop off of a battered saddle horn an wicked sword was drawn.

The horse abandoned ... too much underbrush, too many trees, and into it the outrider plunged, seeking through fire and ash, over rock and wood, to end a traitor's nuisance.

Romana stood upon her outcropping, tall, slender long white hair sapping in the wind, her foot stomping like a storybook princess when the demon even dared look at one of Mohlkavin's Heavy Horse.

The night deepened, the stars looked down, they watched as the sparks drifted skyward. They saw Him again, the one who forged the chains, the one who sealed them with dark magic.

He who knew, who had conjured the darkest secret, stolen it a man named Davidson, a man who never believed any would have the will, the arrogance, the audacity to actually try it.

To summon a God you need to slaughter a God.

All the tablets had been set in place, like row upon row upon row of double bluff tiles, ready to be knocked down.

Spin, turn, and there was nothing he could do. Dean watched in horror as the hammer smashed through his shield, pillaring another hole in its face, barely stopping the heel pf the weapon but an inch from his nose. The squire's vision, through the eye slit of his helm, was completely blocked, thus it was not too much of a shock when the chaos rider's backswing literally tore the shield from the young warrior's arm.

Which, of course, left it hanging from the polearm. The outrider blinked, started, and with a defiant roar went to shake the paltry bit of armor off.

Spin, turn, and there was nothing he could do ... except follow in his Knight's teachings. One blow ends only in the beginning of the next, a fight is a martial dance of parry and hit and you can't let a surprise break your rhythm, your surprises need to break his. The steel blade, forged in far off Talesan's Village, by a simple village blacksmith.

For a moment the blade shone.

The steel cut upwards, catching the outworlder beneath his hauberk and it then continued and continued and continued. And then Dean saw no more.

It was the sudden spray of blood and sinew that blinded him, as if he had suddenly let loose a flood, a torrent. It was the body of the outrider, its face twisted in surprise, that slammed down, upon the squire soundly, forcing him to his knees.

The outrider's legs and torso, however, remained, separate, tangled in stirrups and saddle, upon a now panicing horse.

At the outcropping, upon it's base, where it shot out of the stone, the outrider charged. It was quick, it was sudden, it was panic, and from an unheard command the demon turned, turned and roared, a deadly tendril of power slashing through the stone between sorceress and Marin's pawn. There was an explosion of rock, of fire, of branch and rubble.

When the dust settled the outcropping was gone, and there was no sign of either Romana or her pursuer.

The demon,like an evening's fog, was still, it then shimmered, was banished and just faded away.

"Ha ... ha ... ha ... ha ..."

The fourth outrider looked up to the tower battlements. He held his sword in one hand now ... for Darian's arrows, bound for his helm straight and true, had been blocked by the rider's left. That arm now moved awkwardly, and he almost made a comical sight, cursing upwards, now with four arrows piercing him, mocking him with the image of a macabre porcupine. It did, however, slow his words - and while unheard, the effect was obviou - his sword suddenly erupted in fire - the same fire that had swept the path up the temple ruins.

"Ha ... ha ... ha .. ha ..."

His laugh was derisive, as the rising winds, fueled by the already existing fires, took Kadri's bag of red pepper and scattered it across the temple top, completely in effective.

Of course, that was when the rock that followed the pepper hit him square in the face.

Well. Now. Someone was amused.

Three hundred and fifty years ago .... and He would have changed the world.

The stars then, had watched, when He came face to face with the most unlikely alliance. A Darkdowner, when all the Darkdowners should have been dead. A Covener considered useless by her own. And everything comes in threes. A black unicorn stood with them too.

The stars now, they watched, when He came face to face with the most unlikely alliance. A Dawnview lass, with the red hair of the Allianes. A New Jvrillian, who should have cursed the ground upon which she stood. And everything comes in threes. A black unicorn stood with them too.

Mikal was already in motion, a fast lope to the horse at the well's edge, to retrieve his short blade from the corpse's ribs. It took all his strength - especially with a shy arm, to squerlch the steel free and draw it up.

The hellsteed reared, as if it could sense his ancient enemy, hooves sparking in the air, turning on his own to face the low slung charge of this midnight equine. With a curse the Hellsword tried to pull his steed away, knowing that it was a bait, that it was a trap, that of course one of Marin's beasts would always, always turn to attack when given a choice.

Black unicorns obviously knew this too, as its long golden horn found the destrier's now suddenly open belly.

The hellsteed screamed, as his magic was matched by the unicorn's, this hurt stayed, it tore its belly open as the unicorn lifted its head ... without the courtesy of removing his deadly lance first.

The Hellsword was already kicking his feet free from the stirrups, trying to get off his dying steed before being trapped beneath. He did so, landing in a skidding crouch, boots kicking up rubbles and stone. It was all he could do to drive his axe back and around - to block a shortsword blow that would have gutted him; Mikal's blade would have struck true and hard, but now sparked as bits and pieces of his blade were gouged out and sent flying as their blows barely parried each other.

A flash of white, an arc, a blur, crystal and pure.

The Hellsword saw it coming.

His axe was too far out of the way, having just parried Mikal and never having trained with Sir Kevin Magesbane of the Talesan's Cathedral.

Ironsilver hit darksteel.

For a moment, for a heartbeat, all was white and silver.

Like a star exploding, like the sun touching the ground, it was blinding bright, glittering bold.

And then gone.

It took a while for folks to blink their way back into vision, to see again through against the light of the fires and the soft shine of two moons.

The hellsteed lay on the ground, twitching, burning, like a piece of firewood consuming itself, its body gutted and its back broken.

The Hellsword's severed head rolled in a jerky bounce, coming to a halt against the side of the tower.

For a moment, there was silence, atop the broken temple.

For a moment, there was silence, down on the battlefield.

Then, far below, one of the chaos riders stood op in his saddle, raised his sword to the sky, and brought it down slicing his own throat.

A second moment of silence.

A second rider challenged the first, rising up in his stirrups, raising his sword.

Like a pack of rabid merebeasts, the chaos riders turned on themselves.






Last edited by Wolf; Sat 08/09/12 23:30 UTC.
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