Fantasy Warriors Of Khartouma: The Seven Dreaded (IC)

[ArchAngelLexi]

"Must you be so brash," mumbled to herself about Jericho as the group dispersed. She wasn't sure if she should go plan with the other's or just go rest bat her camp. Either way she should probably report back to the elders. The one feeling the other's seemed to be feeling was the parental betrayal. which she couldn't relate to. The elders never acted or claimed to be her family. Then, the family before never felt like one anyways, plus they had been long out of her life. Her only conflict with the situation was that the other's were her supposed siblings. She couldn't decide how she was supposed to feel about it. Was she supposed to be happy to have a family again, sad about what was lost, or distant as some of the others were.
Before she knew it she had made it back to her camp and was pulled into a tight embrace. She had been so lost in thought she let her guard down. Aron had pulled her into a tight hug, his face showing the race expression of sadness. They had been taught not to show such emotions since it was a sign of weakness, so while Raina wanted to reciprocate his feeling, her face remained stoic but she rubbed his arm gently till he let go. "That's not a good look on you. Shouldn't you be proud of me?" She teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah. I am, I just worry about your safety," Aron responded, his face forcing a smile. Before Raina could respond The elders approached with Minx close behind. "Aron, come along," the elder man instructed, waving Aron toward one of the tents. Raina shot his a sympathetic look as he begrudgingly walked toward the tent, his head hung low.
"So you're one of the seven dreaded, congrats," Minx said giving a slight bow of his head. "We're very proud of you. You'll have a big job ahead of you, you should prepare your weapon's and rest," the elder woman spoke, placing a hand on Raina's shoulder. One of the few signs of affection that she ever showed.
"Thank you, I promise to do our clan proud," Raina responded, bowing her head before continuing, "Though I require you're advice. The other's are apparently my siblings and I'm not sure how I should begin working with them." The woman thought a bit before waving Raina over to sit by the fire.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Seymour, The Blind One

Seymour shrugged at the Chieftain's words. No such luck but his warning is sound, better to stay at the edge of Jericho's striking zone when I go to confront him. The helmetless Seymour thought as he began to head towards where his camel was located. Alone all these years, slaying bandits, beasts, monsters, and yet this outlandish situation managed to unsettle him, it was maddening to him yet also enlightening, humbling. To know that no matter how many times you cut others down, no matter how many times you reach the cusp between life and death, there are still things to remind you that you are human.

The knight passed by a couple of Blight tribesmen who were puzzled by his sightlessness. Their gentle whispers unfolded and imparted many of their thoughts. Seymour paid them no mind, the man lived long enough to know that the murmurs and mumbles of people often held either information of little import or secrets staggering enough to shake a man to his core, most of the time it was the former.

He reached his camel, it had been tied to a post by one of the Blightsmen. How thoughtful. It was resting on the ground when Seymour approached. It attempted to get up but Seymour hushed it down with a hand gesture. Out of the pack of supplies that it carried, Seymour pulled out a wineskin bag and drank the water within. He placed the helmet on top of the pack then slouched down against it. He has to remind himself to wake up before sunrise.

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

A few miles outside the perimeter of Dantavish, within the barren wastes of the black desert, a gigantic swath of the sandy floor begins to churn and bubble. Resembling an overgrown and grotesque swarm of ants, soldiers begin to emerge from underneath the sands. Many of them clawing their way out and taking much needed gasps of air. Slowly but surely, Falcyion's entire battalion materializes. Valens himself bursts forth from an unassuming black sand dune, his hooded and cloaked figure reminiscent of some demonic wraith breaking free from it's tomb. After dusting himself off, the diabolical sorcerer witnesses the Transcendence Amulet, used to transport them all, crumble into dust and get blown off into the desert winds.

"Your Highness!" yells a voice from behind as Falcyion stumbles over "It seems the spell has worked sire, I think all my troops are accounted for. A little dusty, but they're all here. I'm just wondering where exactly here is."

"Wonder no further Commander...behold, the ancient ruins of Dantavish." says Valens as he points to a collection in the distance.

Falcyion looks over and breathes hard in awe "So that's it aye? Rather fantastic I must say. As a child, I had always heard tales and rumors of the lost city of Dantavish. But as all boys that age, I thought it merely a myth."

Valens chuckles slightly "Oh I assure you, it's no myth. Dantavish rivals even the Argosian Empire in it's antiquity."

Falcyion looks back at the Prince with curiosity "What happened to it?"

"No one, not even The One Defied himself knows it's true origins. However legend says that the city was built by a mysterious race of nobles, who, in their hubris decided to challenge the gods by erecting an edifice so imposing, that it would reach the heavens. In the center of the city, they built what they deemed The Monolith, their crowning achievement."

"Impressive...than what?"

Valens grins beneath his mask as he ominously turns toward Falcyion "Shortly after completing the structure, they were laid low. The wrath of the gods striking them down in punishment for their arrogance. Completely wiped from the face of Khartouma, their magnificent city, falling into ruins...eventually forgotten by time."

Falcyion manages to stunt out a nervous nod "Anyway, perhaps we should set up a base camp out here. Start preparing another hectre circle for our eventual return to Argosian by way of the amulet."

"The very nature of a Transcendence Amulet dictates that it can be used only once. The moment it has served it's purpose, the magics within it fades into nothingness, leaving nothing but dust." says Valens as he flicks the remaining bit of ashes from the amulet out of his hands.

"But than how are we supposed to return back to Argosian?"

"The old fashion method Commander, by way of our boots, hooves and sweat drenched backs."

"But that's at least a month's journey across the burning sands, not to mention we've no ships to cross the Tethis once we've..." the Commander stops cold in his words as he notices the menacing glare emitted by Valens in his direction "As you command my Prince."

"Get your men in fighting formation Commander Falcyion. Our attack begins at dawn."

Falcyion bows his head "At once sire." he says as he scurries away.

 

[mysteryxio]

Without really hesitating, Chili walked over and proceeded to take some of the berries Vriska offered. Rook, who witnessed her approach, had a small knife ready for combat; Alder had yet to get the newest crew member a proper blade. He was partially up and in a fighting stance. Alder merely sighed and reached out his hand to have him stand down. "She's not an enemy" he said though Rook's expression was unchanged. "Just think about it. No one in the encampment would attack us after that whole 'being chosen' show. She doesn't look like any of the tribes that are here. Plus," without even looking up he pointed at Chili, who had taken a seat on her shoulder eating some of the berries she'd offered. "Chili tends to not be overly trusting with others, even if they offer up food. He must care for ya then." Alder continued to stare into the fire while Rook backed down. "She's also my sister apparently." He stood then made his way to the horses. His other crewmates were out of sight, maybe gone to see if there was a healer among the tribes. He patted one of the steeds, rummaging though the satchel until he found two wineskins, one containing actual wine.

Alder offered some of the wine to Rook, though the young man turned it down having his own water. He made his way over to Vriska, tossing the water to her so that it'd land next to her then went to back to his spot. He opened and proceeded to swallow the wine at incredible speed, he'd not get drunk from the supply he had, took many a drink to get him swayin' but he'd still try. He wiped his mouth once he finished a satisfied 'ah' leaving him. "Never heard your take on all this." He swallowed more wine. "So tell sister," the word felt odd to him, "how do you feel? Supposedly we're to save the kingdom as the seven dreaded," he made it a point to dramatize the last few words imitating the prophetess, "surely you must have some opinion. I made mine clear."

Dodging Rain

 

[Dodging Rain]

Vriska pauses for a brief moment at the initial hostility from the crew member near him but made no motion until Alder ordered him to stand down. It was only then that she proceeding to rest herself next to the group. She did given a brief fond look over at Chibi before her eyes move back over to Alder, keeping his eyes on him for a moment. It was strange to have a kin that she had never met and it seems that the feeling is mutual, judging from Alder's tone of voice.

Vriska pauses at the moment as she stares at the wineskin before she lifted her mask just far enough that her mouth is uncovered enough. Apparently the mask she wears has a separate part for at the bottom. She takes a small but refreshing sip for a moment, careful not to let any of it spill. After a long moment, she corks the wineskin before turning towards Alder again. It looks as if she was just staring at him with her mask obscuring any form of facial changes to her. After some thoughts to his word, she response to his inquiry.

"Meeting at this specific barren place, at a certain time, having a specific title chosen already for us, and treating this as a celebration...It feels like we have been drafted into a story..." She began, pausing for a brief moment before continuing. "But the story itself have not been written...yet. Does that make any sense?"

mysteryxio

 

[mysteryxio]

"As much sense as a seven strangers expected to take down a demon." Alder took a drink from his wineskin then stared at his sister. Someone who he never knew yet supposedly had this connection to. He couldn't even see her face to tell if they had some sort of familial resemblance between them. He watched as Chili moved from her shoulder to her lap curled up as if he were some type of pet. The little monkey had seem to have fallen asleep. "I'm not a coward, so ya know, heard what he called me. I just don't see the need to fight a battle where there's very little hope in winning. I also...don't really see the point in trying to lay claim to something that I'm not even sure I want. Use to laugh at the idea of destiny...now I'm not so sure." Alder sighed as he looked into the fire once more. "I don't like the idea of someone controlling me, one of the reasons I love the sea so much, how one moment the waves are calm and the next it's a hurricane threatening to tip you over. Sure someone my control the water but they can't control how I'd react. Now, I'm not sure I ever had a real choice. Not sure why I'm sayin' this to ya." He really had no idea why he was sharing this with a total stranger. Maybe it was the wine or seeing the memories, how some of them still were fresh in his mind.

To the side of Alder, Rook had left then returned as suddenly. In his hands he held a small lute, how he managed to sneak that on their trip was a mystery. He started to adjust the sides, strumming it ever now and then. Even though he'd only been with them a short time, he was already aware of Alder's love for music. Maybe the newest crewmate thought this could cheer him up some.

Dodging Rain

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

As he pulled the worn piece of cloth back from the entrance of the tent, Jericho sighed in apprehension. He hadn't gotten much sleep, the weight of the night's ordeal pressed heavily on his mind. With his battle axe strapped to his back, his blade secured in it's scabbard and a small satchel over his shoulder, the Blightsman exited his tents. The night was just giving way to a brighter and clearer sky. In a few moments, dawn would break fully. The small tent city that had been erected around the Monolith by the various tribes and nomads that had journeyed out here, was still, almost peaceful. Jericho couldn't help but smile slightly as he saw Tavvin, asleep sitting on a log by the smoldering embers that had once been a grand fire. He was leaning against his broad sword as it whimsically supported his weight.

"Be well old man. You were a good teacher and well respected warrior, you shall always have my reverence." he said in a low voice as he began to make his way over to his horse.

Not to far away he saw Seymour, resting near his tied down camel. Jericho walked over and knelt beside his sleeping form. But before he could utter a word, he was interrupted by a young boy of no more than thirteen or fourteen. The teen was geared out, with a impressive looking bow as well an a quiver of arrows worn on his back "If you leave to journey to The Argosian Empire, than I shall travel with you." said the boy.

"Who the hell are you?" asks Jericho with a sneer.

"I am called Carwen and I have travelled with the Monks of Kel'Kadesh."

"Do you yourself a favor and go back to your tents dreg, I've no time for childish games."

"Please I implore you to reconsider. I've heard many tales of the Seven Dreaded and yearn for the chance to prove my mettle to my tribesman. If someone is going to take the fight to Nastor, than I shall be amongst their numbers."

Beginning to lose his patience, Jericho stands up. In annoyance he looks down at the teen, his large frame towering over the boy "I'm going to seek vengeance on that abomination to restore my honor on behalf of my slain father. This isn't some half hearted quest for ill begotten glory."

"But I'm one of the best bowman in all my tribe, let me prove to you that I would be a great asset..." Carwen begins to say when he suddenly stops. His eyes glaze over as a slight whoosh of wind is heard over head.

Jericho looks on confused than stammers back as Carwen begins to gurgle up blood "What in the name of..." suddenly the boy slumps forward, as he is caught by Jericho in mid air. The young warriors eyes widen as he sees that a large flaming arrow was embedded into the young archer's back. Jericho looks up and beholds a terrifying image as the sky is blackened with the sight of thousands of flaming arrows assailing overhead. Soon after chaos erupts amongst the tribes as hundreds of unsuspecting people are impaled as the blazing arrows rain down onto the tent city. The agonized screams of men, women and children of all ages begin to echo throughout the empty streets of Dantavish. Jericho gently lays Carwen down and yanks the arrow out of his back as he looks out into the carnage.

Suddenly Cadessian runs up and begins to cradle Carwen in his arms "What in the name of the High Celestials is going on?!"

"What does it look like...we've come under attack! Stay with the boy, I'm going to rouse my father!" says Jericho as he scurries over to Seymour "Get up fool, it seems to the fight has been brought to us!"

The commotion causes Tavvin to stumble awake as he swats away some flaming arrows effortlessly with his broadsword.

"Father..." yells Jericho as he runs over to Tavvin.

"Sort of reminds me of the time we made camp at the edge of the Sand Giants tomb city aye, boy? Remember the size of those arrows Jeri?" exclaims Tavvin.

"The city is under attack!"

"Very astute boy! But it seems the Oracle's prophecy is indeed coming to pass...look."

Jericho looks over and sees legions of armored soldiers in the distance. Each one of them firing off volleys of fire lit projectiles that continued to rain down destruction. He glances over and notices that the sun has just begun to break over the sand dunes "...just in time." he says as a look of pure hatred comes over his features "Accursed Oracles, they knew this would happen!"

Meanwhile, over in the distance Falcyion's Shadow Legion battalion continues their onslaught as volley after volley is fired off from their black hewn bows. Valens looks down menacingly at the city as he casually addresses the Commander over the din of the action "I think we've gotten their attention fair enough. Lead your charge Commander...I want no survivors."

Falcyion draws his sword and yells out "Full formations, CHARGE!"

The legionnaires rush down into the ruins of Dantavish, like a swarm of locusts, poised to destroy everything in their path...

Ace Cream Worthlessplebian Dodging Rain ArchAngelLexi mysteryxio Dak

 

[Ace Cream]

Belladona

Bell wanted it to be a peaceful morning so they can save their energy for the big fight later, but what if the big actually come to them? She was sitting half-asleep in front of her tent when she heard Carrion screeched in fear. A flaming arrow landed near her feet, then another one landed not too far away. The adrenaline pumped into her vein made Bell fully awake immediately. She grabbed her bow and watched as another volley of flaming arrows flew above their head.

"Sit down!" Bell barked out a command and her donkey immediately obey it, making herself a smaller target for the arrows. Meanwhile Bell nocked a couple of arrows inti her bow, aimed inti thebsky then released them. Each of her arrow knocked at least one of the flaming arrow out of their trajectory and when the volley landed on the ground, Carrion found that there's no arrow in their surrounding even though the ground around them was embedded with the burning arrows, like gravestones decorating the battlefield. In the distance a battlecry can be heard as an army charged towards the tents.

"Sorry, Carrion. This might hurt." Bell threw the saddle on her donkey and strapped it hastily. She could feel her donkey flinched by the rough treatment but she stayed still. Ruffling into her bag, Bell pulled out a wooden stake with one of its end shaped like an owl head, it's a totem. The patron deity of Mistborn tribes was one with many forms, Amuru was mostly depicted as a mere sillhuouette that can bee seen in the mist, but there had been many records of her using various animal forms to visit the mortal world. The use of totem before casting magic was one way for the tribe to worhsip their deity.

Bell chanted a few lines of spell as she drew multiple circles overlaying each other, then one big circle to unite them all. She then raised her totem, and stabbed the middle of the symbol with it. It was faint at first but quickly become much more noticable, mist was gushing out of the ground and before long a large area around Bell was shrouded in the mist. Since her camp had quite some distance from the other's and the sun was already rising, the mist shouldn't reach the camps around the monolith. The mist shouldn't obstruct their vision of the incoming arrows, but with this placement it hopefully would confuse the incoming army. She didn't want to stay there and get trampled though, so she mounted her donkey and fled away from the Monolith, using the mist as a cover while shooting down mid-air any arrows that might hit them. Unlike most people, she can see through the mist just fine.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Seymour, The Blind One

The morning had come for the tribes that surrounded the Monolith. In but one of the erected camps, the warrior that is known as Seymour rested comfortably against the noble animal that carried him to this destination. Although the night before had certainly shaken Seymour, the man was determined to receive the rest that he needed. So it came as a bit of a shock when his elder brother, Jericho, roared a command to rouse him from his sleep. At first, he was groggy but the whistling of a thousand and more arrows immediately dispelled any notion of disorientation. In one fell swoop, he rose from the sandy ground and picked his helmet up, not a moment too soon as the arrows startled the camel. Seymour instantly put his helmet on and tightened the straps with one-hand, to any on-looker the act looked as though it had been choreographed endlessly to ensure it was expertly executed.

Just in time as an arrow screeched towards Seymour's shielded skull. He placed his foot behind him and forced his entire body to lean backward whilst his head turned in sync with the arrow's flight. The arrow's tip disgustingly scrapped across the metal helmet, this sound was doubled for Seymour's sensitive ears. The flame's heat albeit brief caused Seymour's skin to retract instinctively even though it was not set ablaze.

With a quick draw of his longsword, Seymour effortlessly sliced the rope that bound his camel to the hitching post. He'll find it later if it survives the attack. The rain of fiery arrows wrought death and destruction all around him. It was a hundred times worse than when his brother attacked the camp. The sounds and sensations all poured into Seymour's senses if he hadn't trained himself to accurately process this rush of information, he would've gotten overloaded and collapsed from the sheer volume of it all. A combination of skill and luck ensured that Seymour dodged the projectiles that were bound for him. Even though Seymour's armor would in all likely cases protect him from the penetration of the arrow, he still elected to evade rather than endure, the risk that the arrow slips and lodges itself into the gaps in the armor is high.

Seymour had managed to make his way towards his brother and his step-father. "Ambushes..." The word was spoken not with overwhelming anger but disappointment. "Always ambushes." If Vriska was here then Seymour would thank her for her omen of the attacks.

Interactions: Darrian_Gabriel Mentions: Dak Dodging Rain

 

[Dodging Rain]

"Well if we are to look at the others purpose, they all have a different goal, even if it is to bring down Nastor. Even then, I feel that you have leeway on how you proce- !!!"

Vriska quickly turned around towards a whistling noise heading towards her at high speed. It was due to her reflexes that she is able to tumble out of the way that prevented her from being struck. Her hidden eyes widen at the close call before the realization hits her. They are under attack! Although Vriska was no stranger to danger, she was initially unsure how to proceed from here. Does she go help with the soldiers or hang back to help with the wounded?

She ultimately decided with the latter. Many of her siblings were eager to test their meddle and are probably capable of handling their own. However, medical knowledge was not as common as the ability to swing a sword. That and her weapons are more of tools that double as weapons, not dedicated items of war exclusively. She won't be able to sweep through enemy soldiers as well as the others.

She turned towards Alder. "I'm going to try get an operation set up for those that are wounded. If there are anyone that can be saved, direct them towards my way. I'll make the area so you'll know when you see it. Be careful."

With that, she sprint towards the direction of the side to try to gather as people as she can: the healers, the wounded, and the defenseless, and try to direct them away from fray. Already she spotted one that had taken an arrow to the ankle and try to shift under him to try to get him away from the line of fire. Her other hand, grabbing a plank to serve as a makeshift tool of a shield or a potential splint.

 

[mysteryxio]

Alder moved as fast as his instincts allowed. Even though he had no clue what was happening, even though he'd had some wine, he felt himself move. He saw how the world slowed around him yet he was not moving any faster. The arrows shown like dawn rising, only too suddenly and in the wrong direction. As they got closer they resembled the flaming rocks he'd seen once that'd spewn out of a volcano, only greater in number. Fear was starting to take control for a moment, but he pushed that aside, regained his composure, then started to move time following suit.

Chili had leapt from where he was sitting and ran off, he was able to dodge arrows, but was lost in the volley. Alder moved toward Rook who hadn't noticed the arrows. He pushed him down and grabbed the lute from his hands. He used it to shield them from a set of three, after which it shattered. Alder turned to the lad who was pale and trying to catch his breathe. He felt around his body and yet there were no wounds to speak of. "Still better then having you stay with the crew" Alder said attempting to make a joke. He turned and offered Rook a hand, which he shakily took. They could hear screams in the distance, as well as his sister mention something about a set up for the wounded or something like that. Was she mad? They were being attacked and she wanted to heal others. Alder felt himself sigh at the idea, however he wasted no more time on that.

He and Rook ran to the horses who were all in a frenzy. One lay dead with an arrow in their chest. The others tried to pull away from where they'd been hitched. Alder walked over and within only moments had managed to calm them down. He turned his head toward the city, smoke and fires already starting to engulf some of it. He wanted to leave, every instinct telling him to get on the horse and ride out of the desert. Out of the country. Yet instead he reached in one of the saddles to for weapons. He fastened the horses so that they'd run connected without tripping each other up then gave his order. "Here's what you'll do" he said as he started to hide away his weapons. "Head out up the dune, til ya some ways away. Far enough that ya aren't seen but not so far that ya can't see what's happenin'. Wait there til this ends or ya see one of the crew. If ya see enemies, ride off. Try to make it to port somewhere. If ya can do it, head towards where we're docked and tell the crew what happened. Some'll believe ya, especially with where we are. For the ones that don't, tell 'em, a sea has claimed a storm." As he finished with his preparations, he turned and hugged the lad. He had a confused look on his face but Alder merely smiled and patted him on shoulder. His crew understood that it was their code words, meant for the ship to leave without whoever wasn't there. He was going back for his crew, that's what he told himself. He'd find his crew then leave.

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

The slowly rising din of the charging battalion rises ominously as the Shadow Legionnaires rush into the ruined city. Tavvin hears the approaching horde and a slight grin crosses his lips. He draws his broadsword with a kind of bravado "I was hoping to see some action on this excursion. You ready for battle boy?"

Jericho throws off his hooded tunic, retrieving both his blade and battle axe "Always."

A few moments later, Seymour runs to their side "Ambushes...always ambushes."

Jericho looks at his brother with a gaze of dire alertness "Welcome to the outlands, swordsman."

Within seconds the swarming legionnaires are within a few yards from converging on the Monolith, slaughtering any few remaining nomads that had not been felled by the onslaught of the flaming arrow attack.

"This is it!!!" yells Tavvin as he steadies himself "May Kharderash grant us victory!"

Suddenly out of nowhere a mysterious cloud of mist quickly envelops the attacking battalion, throwing them into chaos and confusion. Tavvin looks up in an almost comical fashion "Well I'll be damned, I've never been one to believe in miracles but..."

"Refer to it what you want, I just call it my que!" says Jericho as he leaps into the fray. Taking full advantage of the misty diversion, the Blightsman wastes no time in inflicting punishing damage to the dis oriented enemy soldiers. With almost supernatural accuracy and speed, he rushes in and decapitates several of the attackers, heads literally flying into the air. In full berserk-er mode, the young warrior effortlessly parries and deflects the feeble blows of the few soldiers that had managed to get even the shakiest grasp of their bearings in the chaos. As a result, delivering even more gruesome carnage to those that had dared to swing a blade in his direction. Body parts being strewn all over the black sandy terrain, as the blood and gore began to mount.

Tavvin stayed slightly back, as he preferred his opponents to come to him. Out of the mists a Shadow soldier charges the chieftain, but before Tavvin can react, an arrow slams into the skull of the wayward legionnaire, sending him flying backwards. Tavvin looks back, only to find Cadessian standing a few paces behind, a big smirk adorning his mouth.

"I believe that puts me up two points on you, aye old friend?"

"You miserable old slinger, that one was mine!" shouts Tavvin.

Cadessian merely knocks another arrow onto his bow, this time burying the projectile into the throat of another attacking soldier "Make that three!"

Tavvin lets out a thunderous laugh as he turns around and charges into battle, like his son a few moments before. He attacks with such ferocity, that he manages to cleave three oncoming opponents, straight down their midsections, quite literally slicing them in half. The blood and entrails of his fallen foes, splashing onto the old warrior's face as he revels in the thrill of combat.

Cadessian smiles again as he continues to fire off the contents of his quiver, striking enemy soldiers with unparalleled precision "Always the show off aren't you Tavvin!"

Meanwhile, back in the heat of the frenzy, Falcyion notices Jericho as he continues to decimate the hapless legionaries. He runs over through the thunderous fighting and manages to catch the Blightsman in a blind spot. Falcyion throws the haft of his spear over Jericho's throat and engages the young warrior in a violent choke hold "I must admit dreg, I'm impressed! Tell me, just where did you learn to twirl an axe like that?"

Jericho responds by jamming an elbow into Falcyion's gut, which causes the commander to relinquish his choke hold. Giving Falcyion no time to recover, Jeri flips him into the air and over onto his back, executing the entire maneuver in milliseconds.

"Apparently the same place you learned to spout your pathetic quips!" says Jericho as he beheads the Commander with one quick swipe of his axe.

But no sooner does he kill Falcyion, than a bolt of mystical energy knocks his battle axe out of his grasp. Taken aback at being partially disarmed, Jericho looks over and sees Prince Valens bearing down on him, a plume of smoke emanating from the extended hand from which he fired off the bolt. Moments later he shoots off another beam of mystical energy, but this time Jericho blocks the attack, his Ascendance blade effortlessly absorbing the sorcerer's magic. Puzzled, Valens aims another beam of energy at the young warrior, but this too, is deflected by the Blightsman's mystically immune sword.

"Most interesting, I must say, I've never a seen a blade do that before!"

"Why don't you come closer you putrid magician...and I'll show you some other tricks it's capable of..."

 

[Ace Cream]

Belladona

Bell told her donkey to slow down as the two managed to get away from the campsites. Thankfully no enemy seemed to notice her, or maybe sending troops to chase a single person wasn't worth it. She's now on a hill on the opposite side from where the enemy was coming from, overlooking the camps. Sweats dripping from her forehead as she watched the battle raging below. Seeing the overwhelming number of troops made her skeptical about the survivability of the people in the camp. Maybe she should just run by herself? She shook the thought, too early for that. There's still a chance things would go their way.

An eagle smoothly landed on her shoulder, a small eagle totem was tied into its leg. Bell immediately recognized it was Lot's eagle and he's trying to communicate to her.

"B-bEll! WHerE ARe yOu???" The eagle opened its beak and Lot's voice came out of it, albeit the inconsistent tone made it sounds uncanny.

"Somewhere high. Don't panic, Lot. Try to help the others, or hide."

"i WIlL hELP!! WHaT wILL yoU Do??"

"Looking for their leader." Bell scanned the entire campment, trying to look someone who dressed differently, carrying a glowing sword, having more bones on their necklace, more tattoo etched on their body, or anything that can indicate their rank. Her gaze fell on a mage with a ritual mask on his face, the one who's now confronting Jericho. He looks different from the other so Bell assumed the person was either the troop's leader or the archmage. Either way if he's gone that would be a great blow to their enemy.

"Lot, in front of Nastor bait, do you see him?"

"NAstoR bAiT??"

"Jericho. The mage in front of him, distract them." As usual, Bell didn't bother to explain further as she started to fiddle with her arrows.

Lot disconnected the connection with his eagle and crawled out of the tent he had been hiding in. Bell said to distract the mage but truthfully he was scared shit to do that. This was his first battlefield and there's not much a druid like him can do in a desert so he simply kept himself hidden behind the tent while occasionally peek outside to see Jericho's situation.

Darrian_Gabriel

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Seymour, The Blind One

The mist although sudden, was not unwelcomed by the Blind Swordsman. This will provide an undeniable advantage to Seymour over the Shadow Soldiers. The confusion that bled into Seymour's ears was that akin to music. He charged in this mist as his brother did before him. Jericho's speed and fury extended the distance between the two brothers but Seymour did not mind this, he had his own battles to fight.

To the outsiders, it would seem as if they had an ethereal spirit amongst them. The way, it moved between strikes and foes, it truly seemed like he wasn't even there. Slinking in and out of the misty clouds, killing his foes without a struggle. In truth, Seymour's enhanced senses were truly a blessing in the mass hysteria of battle. However, his hasty rampage through enemy forces would end abruptly when the swordsman met an equal. A large, brutish shadow warrior had unexpectedly blocked his sword, the Eternal Moon, as it was called. The Blind Knight turned his head upwards to look at the wrath filled warrior, who was much taller than him, his breaths gave it away. The brutish warrior lifted the mace that was in his left hand with frightening quickness. And sent it down with the same speed. If Seymour had hesitated even a single moment then his sword arm would've been crushed bellow the spiked mace. He dodged backward but didn't immediately retaliate as he expected the warrior to not overexert his attack. It proved true as the shadow warrior stopped the attack halfway.

Both knew that this would end with one move. Seymour knew to end this, he'll have to utilize the mordhau technique to breach the shadow warrior's armor. He would not immediately flip his grip on the sword as that could tip the shadow warrior off and make him more defensive.

The shadow warrior did not charge first, this annoyed Seymour as it meant that he'd have to be the one to attack. So be it. Seymour stepped forward, attempting an attack from the side. However, the shadow warrior saw this and raised his shield accordingly while also preparing his mace to attack. This was a faint from Seymour as he dashed towards the direction of the mace, narrowly escaping the strike once again. Now, it was his turn. The swordsman reversed his grip on the sword, holding it by the blade. As if he was pushing a lever with all his might, he struck the towering behemoth with the sword's pommel. Caving the helmet in, the sound of crunching flesh and bone rang out from it. However, the brutish soldier was not done, as he executed a final strike against Seymour. It caught him off guard as it sent him backward in the air. His chest plate dented and he found it hard to breathe, the kicked up sand did not help.

He managed to turn himself over and began to cough up blood into his helmet. Damn... The blind man thought. Hard to... breathe... Lung bruised? Finish this quickly. Was his conclusion to his predicament.

He called upon his strength to stand up, it was difficult...

He shambled around in the mist, waiting to regain his strength. It came back to him, not enough to be at full fighting capability but enough to present a threat to others.

"Most interesting, I must say, I've never seen a blade do that before!"

"Why don't you come closer you putrid magician...and I'll show you some other tricks it's capable of..."

It was his brother, Jericho, conversing with the enemy commandant. Showing off that same bravado and anger. The Blind Swordsman stepped out of the fog-of-war, upright, displaying the dent in his chest proudly as if he did not care that he got struck. "... I doubt you're... actually surprised. Court Jesters are not foes that I've... fought! But an exception is needed... here." The swordsman taunted the magician despite his own injuries, he knows there is a limit to how much that he can help out here.

Darrian_Gabriel

 

[mysteryxio]

Alder was moving as stealthy as he could for a time. Just a few hours earlier, he'd been doing just that and here he was again, only this time the danger was more present. All around him he saw people fighting and being slaughtered. He tried to avoid confrontation when he could, the tents providing a good cover for him even if a lot of them were on fire. He was soon seen by a large soldier, his blade coming out of a fresh corpse. "Don't suppose ya wanna talk this out do ya?" The soldier started to charge at him, screaming as he attacked. "Didn't think so." Side stepping and drawing a sword, Alder went to his at one of the exposed parts in the warriors armor. He seemed to sense that and dodged in time. They continued to swing at each other, neither one landing a hit. Alder had the speed but the soldier had the strength, armor, and a thicker sword. With enough force, it would likely shatter Alder's weapon, if not himself as well. As they continued to fight this way, there was a sound that came from behind Alder. A second Shadow Legion warrior moving in to attack him. As the one in front of him swung down, Alder rolled to the ground barely missing his sword. When he stood the Shadow Legion warriors had struck each other down.

He took advantage of the sudden convenience and pierced one throat then the other. Alder's breathing was a little heavy but he composed himself. "Should have just talked it out like I said." As he made his way around, deciding not to yell for his crew, Alder approached a sudden fogged area. Has to be magic...I just hope it's on our side, he thought as he place his hand inside as if to test it. He could hear footsteps coming closer toward him from the inside of the fog. He backed away, his hope that whoever it was didn't notice him yet.

Alder hid behind one of the few tents not burning and watched. A few men came out, one who looked normal, if that word could be used to describe any of these people. The other was taller and more heavily muscled. This was bad, Alder needed a plan to get by them and continue his search or try to find some way of knowing whether his crew was still alive. As he watched, he noted how the Shadow Legion held a limp, white form. It twitched somewhat, meaning that it was still alive, but Alder recognized it instantly his fear and hesitation no longer a problem. He stood and held a small throwing knife in his hand. The normal Shadow Legion warrior handed Chili over to the other, then fell to the ground dead, Alder's knife sticking out of his head. "Hey!" Alder yelled in a rage filled voice as he readied a second knife as well as his sword, "LET...MY...MONKEY...GO...OR ELSE."

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

Valens crept closer to Jericho as he held out one of his gloved hands, the whole of his palm glowing a bright blood red. The mist that Belladonna had incited earlier still filtered strong throughout the ruined city that served as the makeshift battle ground. The haphazard fog seeped through the sorcerer's ceremonial mask and he narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

"Most amusing..." he uttered as the blood red energies glowed ever brighter as an eerie aura around his entire body. The mist slowly began to disperse as visibility on the battlefield grew further and further with each passing second, until the fog had completely cleared.

"I doubt you're... actually surprised." said Seymour as he approached from behind, making his way beside Jericho.

Jericho looked over, noticing his younger brother and the obvious wound he'd received along with the dented helmet. Jericho didn't say anything but just chose to give his brother a glance of acknowledgment.

"So I take it than that you two dregs are part of this legendary Seven Dreaded that The One Deified has told me so much about, aye? You do realize that you are nothing more than sacred rabbits facing a wolf in my presence!" says Valens before looking directly at Jericho "In your words, pauper, I'm am neither magician nor court jester, but something far more terrible!"

"Court Jesters are not foes that I've... fought! But an exception is needed...here." fired back Seymour, showing little fear for the powerful sorcerer.

During all this time, Jericho had quietly been retrieving one of his many small throwing daggers from behind his belt. In a split second, he swiftly launches the deadly projectile straight at Valens, catching the dark prince off guard, the knife striking him in the shoulder, causing Valens to shudder back in pain. The Blightsman wastes no time and charges the prince, landing a devastating kick dead center on his chest, which sends the sorcerer flying several feet back.

"First lesson of combat...learn to shut your goddamn mouth!" says Jericho as he lands a powerful punch to the side of Valens' face, using the hilt of his sword.

The hit is delivered with such force, that a stream of blood bursts out of the sorcerer's mouth, causing his mask to topple off his face, revealing his gruesome and decaying face beneath.

Valens wipes the blood from his mouth "Impressive, my belated warrior." he says as he draws his own blade.

Jericho furiously attacks, displaying his fighting prowess to such an extent, that he is able to disarm the prince within a few short seconds. Valens dives to the ground and manages to hurl a fistful of sand into Jericho's eyes, temporarily blinding him. Valens than scoops his sword off the desert ground and slashes Jericho across the torso, leaving a deep cut that stretched diagonally from his right shoulder all the way down to the left side of his waist. The young warrior cries out in agony as he falls to his knees.

Across the battlefield, Tavvin hears his adoptive son's outcry and spots the scene from afar "Jeri!!!" At full sprint, Tavvin runs to his son's aide, letting out a guttural battle cry as he charges straight for Valens.

Jericho hears Tavvin approaching as he fights to dig all the sand out of his eyes "Father..." he says in a low voice.

Valens hears this as he looks over in Tavvin's direction "Second lesson of combat...compassion can always be exploited as a weakness!"

"NOOOO!!!" screams Jericho in response to what he senses is about to happen.

But too late, Valens fires off a beam of mystical energy towards the old chieftain, the supernatural bolt striking Tavvin in the stomach, leaving a smoldering and charred impact wound. Tavvin collapses, the blood beginning to pool beneath him.

"FATHER!!!" yells Jericho as he struggles to his feet, blood still seeping from the deep cut inflicted by Valens. The young warrior runs over to his father's side and begins to cradle him in his arms "Father, speak to me...father, no!"

Valens grins with sinister glee as he re-applies his ceremonial mask. He than turns back to Seymour "So tell me dreg, might you have any pathetic emotional attachments that I might capitalize on just as easily?" he says as he raises his hand towards the blind warrior, his palm once again glowing with blood red energy.

Worthlessplebian

 

[Ace Cream]

Belladona

The arrowhead was made from the tooth of an earth dragon, one of the strongest material that can even cut steel and crunch bedrock easily. The shaft was made by the same wood that shape her bow, she's taking a risk with this one but it should be fine to use it in the desert, the ever-growing wood tends to grow uncontrollably if there's no one actively controlling it nearby. The fletching was made from the feather of Edesa owl, making it extraordinarily silent. This was probably the best arrow she ever made, but she already seen enough bloodshed during the Edesa raid and she didn't wants something like that to happen agai-

"Oh, there goes the old chief." Bell hissed as she watched the beam hit Tavvin on the stomach. She glanced around the battlefield but couldn't spot Lot anywhere, the boy was probably too scared to do anything now. Jericho and Seymour had been wounded so she must hurry with her shot! Bell nocked the special arrow on her bow. Cautiously calculating the trajectory to ensure that her aim would be perfect.

"Die." She whispered before releasing the arrow into the sky. It flew past all the bloody fights below before taking a sharp turn downward, aiming straight into Valen's chest.

Darrian_Gabriel

 

[mysteryxio]

Alder was on the move. The way he moved and dodged was more aggressive than before, yet also more focused on his enemy. He'd rushed in this time, fists clenched. He spun then made a move for the knife he'd thrown in the dead soldier. He started slashing at the man who seemed to have trouble predicting where the next strike was coming from. The blade was small but effective at hitting the armor joints. Alder seemed to be more careless though, as he let the soldier hits become closer and closer to hitting him. The captain only seemed to care about getting his friend back, not for his own safety. So when he was punched in the stomach, he didn't feel the pain. Instead he held onto the hand with one of his own. He leaped over the arm, then kicked the soldier in the face.

The soldier went down, his helmet knocked off of him, a second later, Alder's knife was plunged into throat. The soldier tried to remove the blade, but Alder placed his foot on the hilt and pushed down, watching the last moments leave him. During the fight, the soldier released Chili into the air and Alder had managed to catch him. He saw that he was still breathing, slowly. Hopefully the poor beast was only sleeping and not seriously hurt. Perhaps he'd find his sister later on and have her see whether that was the case. He secured Chili in a pocket of his coat, the little one's favorite spot. When that was done, Alder was suddenly ill. He vomited food that he was unaware he ate. The pain of where he was hit was setting in, likely to leave a bruise that resembled the soldiers fist.

A deep breathe later and Alder recovered. He steadied himself and turned toward the fog, which seemed to have spread. A second deep breathe, this time to steel himself from whatever lay inside. He started to sneak around like before only found it harder to bend forward. He heard people up ahead.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Seymour, The Blind One

"FATHER!"

Seymour heard Jericho cry as the perverse joke is happening to him again, losing a parent. It emboldened the blind one with righteous fury and adamantine determination. Despite the warrior's injury, he is still good enough for four more dashes, enough to dodge any trickery that Chester the Cretinous Jester known as Valens could execute. However brief, the experienced knight noticed a prevailing pattern in his battles, it was the propensity for battles to dissolve into one strike showdowns. Rarely does an opponent still have enough strength to stab at Seymour with their last breath. Regardless of how this battle evolves, Seymour must exercise caution of the highest regard if he wishes to see the quest of the Prophetess through to the end.

"So tell me dreg, might you have any pathetic emotional attachments that I might capitalize on just as easily?"

The vile vermin spouted his venomous intentions. Unfortunately for him, Seymour's adoptive father beat the sentimentality towards others out of him, at least when the battle is concerned. His keen ears detected the pulsating energy that built up in Valens' palm. He raised his sword in a top guard with the flat side pointing up at the morning dawn. "I don't know, Jester, my emotions died when I first took up this blade..." A pause in his boast. "Perhaps cleansing the life from your carcass shall inspire something within me."

Then suddenly Seymour detected an arrow that cut across the dust-filled air, it surprised him that the arrow managed to seemingly strike and pierce Valens' chest. Seymour wasted no time and began to execute the next phase of the attack.

Seymour knew this would not be enough to vanquish this venal stooge of his uncle. He dashed twice towards the sorcerer, his lungs mangled themselves in the attempt. A thrust had no guarantee that it would kill him, a decapitation would have to suffice. Seymour closed the gap between him and the sorcerer then pulled his sword to the side along with his torso. His gauntleted fingers tightened around the longsword's handle. Then he let his sword fly! The cutting edge aiming approximately where Valens' neck would be, the blind swordsman wanted to turn towards the Gods but experience and self-awareness stayed his mind if he is to do this then he must do this without their help.

Darrian_Gabriel Mentions: Ace Cream

 

[Dodging Rain]

Vriska is constantly trying to shuttle people outside the safety of the fire arrow rain. There were many that cannot be save, evident by the bodies that littered around the place with an arrow embedded in their body. Though there are few, there were survivors. The latest is a main that had his ankle seared with an arrow; next to him was another man who was tryingto get him to safety, a kin perhaps. Protecting all 3 was a very tall wooden board that Vriska had set up as a makeshift pavise shield partially soaked in water. The wound was not fatal but was still debilitating and she didn't not have the luxury of time to give him a proper treatment. She rubbed the salve over the wound to protect it and stave off infection before binding it within 5 seconds.

"Get him out of the area and to the safe areas, then rejoin the frontline." With those words, she sent them off to safety before pulling the pavise out of the ground. As if by cue, arrow was racing towards her and she shifted so that the pavise would intercept it. As bad of a shape as it is now due to the constant arrow striking, leaving it partially scorched now, it was better than not having a shield during an arrow storm.

It was then that she spotted a couple of shadow legionnaires racing over towards her way...or the two men she saw earlier; either way they are a problem. While continually keep the make-shift pavise up as if in a show that she was prepared against them, she concentrated on the one at the back. Slowly, an illusion was woven in front of his eyes; his comrade in front of him started to change in his eye into one of the enemies he was tasked to slay. Initially surprised by the sudden appearing of an enemy, he suddenly let out a cry before bringing his sword down on his comrade. The front legionnaire did not expect the sudden attack and fell to the ground with a surprised look on his face before he died. Then then illusion was dispelled revealing that it was a fellow legionnaire that was slain causing the living one's eyes to widen with horror. Taking advantage of the shock, Vriska throws forward a satchel, striking the legionnaire on the helmet releasing its content. The content burning into the eyes through the helm slit, causing the man drop his sword to try to claw his helm off. With that, Vriska race to slam the legionnaire with the pavise, bowling him over. She quickly climbed on top of the armored enemy flicking out one of her spade dagger and driving it through the helm slit, holding it there until the thrashing stops. The herbalist stabs the man again, to ensure that the man was truly dead. If the spade dagger didn't finish him, the poison surely will.

Her breath pace hastened from the battle, the adrenalin was the only thing that kept her her. The thudding of another arrow striking the pavise barely in front of her face was a harsh reminder that the battle was still going on. Without wasting anymore time, she rushes forward for anyone else that she can extract from the fray. Her breath quickening under her mask. As she moves back into the front she heard sounds of battle, metal clash against metals. As she arrived at the scene, she watches in horror as Tavin was struck by magic beam to the stomach by a sorcerer. Jericho was also in bad shape, and Seymour looked hurt but still up. She was still too far to do much at this range but the first was to get to the fray to make sure the sorcerer was no longer a threat before she can see if she can still save him. A brief glance took notice at Belladonna suddenly let loose an arrow. The only thing she can do now is create a brief fog, one that looks identical to Belladonna's, to appear and dissipate in front of Valen's face to obscure his vision. A more complex one would require her to be stationary, something she cannot afford to do as she rushes into position.

Darrian_Gabriel Worthlessplebian Ace Cream