The Mountain of Shadows RP

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AuthorTopic: The Mountain of Shadows RP
Master
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OOC: Since when did blademasters fight like a regular army? They're practically the opposite... they fight like ninjas, guerillas and terrorists.

[ Saturday, August 27, 2005 19:07: Message edited by: Wise Man ]

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Polaris - Weather balloons, ninjas, and your big daddy Wise Man. What more could you want?
Undead Theories - Don't Ask, Don't Tell
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OoC: I'm kind of disappointed... nobody attacked me. Oh well.

IC:

Brother Sequoia lunged at one of the blademasters, who instantly flourished his swords and advanced. A muttered spell from the druid turned the blades to rust, and a blow from the druid's staff knocked the unfortunate guild member to the ground.

I hope they're all this easy... he thought, turning to help Cyrus fend off his attacker.

Cyrus was clearly getting a decent challenge from the blade-wielding madman. Leveling his staff at the armored bladesman, Brother Sequoia was disappointed to see his spell rebound off the man's blade. A muffled grunt from behind him confirmed that the spell had hit another invader, probably square in the breastplate. The druid groaned mentally. Just once I'd like to have an easy day.

Turning again, the druid ran after another bladesman, who was advancing on an approaching mage (who appeared to be a Verwey native). A quick spell turned her helmet a rusty red (though it should have been able to dissolve it outright), and Brother Sequoia tossed his staff at it like a javelin.

A resounding crack signaled the bladesman's defeat. Sequoia ran over to the prone body, retrieving his staff. He was met by the Verweyan mage, who muttered a quick 'thank you' and introduced himself as Norran. Before Brother Sequoia could respond, Norran charged toward the blademasters fighting Andros and Cyrus.

"Watch out, their weapons are shielded!" Sequoia shouted after Norran.

Before he could see if Norran had heard his warning, Sequoia realized that another bladesman had snuck up on him. His swords were glowing. Not again...

OoC: Hopefully, this won't cause any problems.

OoC EDIT: Okay, I lowered the number. Sorry 'bout that, I just hadn't noticed it.

[ Sunday, August 28, 2005 08:03: Message edited by: Ephesos ]

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Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.

I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion.
Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00
Master
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OOC: There were five in total, sir.

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Polaris - Weather balloons, ninjas, and your big daddy Wise Man. What more could you want?
Undead Theories - Don't Ask, Don't Tell
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IC:

As Filbert walked out of Edith's fading ice wall, Tuulentekija examined the body of the mysterious attacker.

Tuulentekija takes a piece of paper from the dead body and inspects it. "Strange, he carries nothing but his blades and an old map of the woods."

"Why would he attack us?" Filbert asked as he cleaned the blood off his blade.

"He's from the Guild of Blademasters. I have met them before, insane sect. Why they're here I do not know, but they usually attack anyone getting near them when they are up to something big." Replied Cain, still standing were he was before the attack.

"Guild? What would a guild want in a place like this?" Filbert inquired.

"I think I have a clue." Tuulentekija interrupted, "Take a look at this." He handed the map to Cain.

The map had a drawing of the woods, the village and part of the mountain. In the center of the woods there was a mark on another village Cain had'nt seen in his maps before. The map also had doted lines, paths, towards and around the village. They looked like attacking orders. He gave the map back to Tuulentekija.

"Apparently this blademaster thought we were scouts of target village." Tuulentekija said.

"What village, the one we left behind yesterday?" Asked Filbert.

"No, apparently there was another village we were not aware of." Tuulentekija answered as he handed over the map to Edith and Filbert.

"Ah, the village of the cursed ones!" Edith exclaimed.

"Who?" Filbert and Tuulentekija asked in unison.

"Oh, back home we heard stories of a group of elves that…" Edith had only started the explanation when Cain interrupted. "Enough of this fairy tale crap; we have a mountain to climb. Whatever these insane sword flingers are doing in these woods is none of my business or yours for that matter, you work for me now, remember? Now walk! This fool has delayed us enough already." Cain walked ahead of the group and out of the woods without waiting for replies.

Not five steps were taken by Cain when he abruptly stopped. He turned his head to the right and stayed there immobile. The others then realized why he had stopped. A faint sound brought by the wind soon came to their ears.

Filbert asked the question latent in everyone's mind. "What's that noise?" He whispered.

"The battle has started." Tuulentekija added as he turned to the woods.

"The day of the Verweyan elves final battle, legends were true." Edith whispered to herself.

Cain continued his walk towards the mountain and out of the woods. "Are you coming or not!" He shouted as his figured slowly disappeared in the moderate but continued snowfall.

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Why would the guild send a group of new recruits? Caecus thought as he fended off the the group leader and his two buddies. Then, as if by cue, a small group of experienced Blademasters jumped out of the trees and surrounded the Moon Elves. Ah, I see why now. he thought. A huge fireball was launched by a mage and hit the new recruits. Many were badly burnt. Caecus ordered he majority of his troops to attack the ambushers.

"Capture at least one of the ambushers!" Caecus shouted. One of his soldiers came to his side to help him against the group leader and his two buddies. Caecus slashed one across the face and chest, and made him fall to the ground. He managed to toss that one into the middle of his group.

"Another Prisoner! Oh, and capture the group leader," he shouted.

OOC: Was the ambush something Blademasters would do?

[ Sunday, August 28, 2005 08:28: Message edited by: Zephyr Tempest ]

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If you never rise against your oppressor, then you've already lost.
-Zephyr Tempest, your personal entertainer
Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00
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IC:

Speed and agility is one of the strengths all elves have in common. Though Lisha was a fast runner, even she had trouble keeping up once Melora was at full speed. But she did not charge into battle - that would have been careless, and stupid to boot.

The shadows of the trees, even under the blazing moon light that illuminated the ground almost as bright as day, afforded the two women a cover and allowed them to survey the fight without being spotted by either side.

So far, it appeared the blademasters were getting trounced soundly. They had been too careless in their planning, relying too much on the assumption that their opponents were far too weak to put up serious resistance. While the elites Andros had spoken of were apparently down in the caves, the rest of the party were facing less experienced guild members.

Arrogance will be the downfall of humanity, Melora silently commented once again. Arrogance and stupidity, she continued, even as the lumbering suit of armor she recognized as Caecus was ambushed by three further blademasters.

He managed to wound and apparently capture one, but the move was a mistake: Even as Caecus turned around to toss the agile fighter among his own soldiers, the other blademasters used this moment of inattention to advance upon him. Melora could only see a deadly cloud of steel, such was the speed of their blades. He quickly turned again, but even the movements of a steel-encased spirit were not fast enough to keep the relentless attack off him.

Caecus' armor, apparently, was built to last. Although the steel cloud fell upon it in a series of ringing sounds that were deafening even at this distance, the armor showed little signs of damage beyond a few bruises, until, with an awful sound, one of his steel arms was torn off the plate mail.

The blademasters appeared to recoil in surprise when they saw what they were dealing with, but they were no superstitious townsfolk - their hesitancy lasted only a fraction of a second, and they attacked again. Caecus, however, did not have the disadvantage of pain - the loss of his limb and one of his blades did not slow his counter-attack. Even as the onslaught came again, the longsword darted in beneath and wounded another of the blademasters.

Melora turned to Lisha, whose surprised expression mirrored her own.

"What..."

"Nothing a good blacksmith couldn't fix," Melora answered. "But they need our help. Lisha?" It was the first time Melora had spoken the name.

"Now." Lisha nodded, even as Melora produced a pair of daggers from her sleeves and sent them spinning like rods of silver lightning toward the blademasters. One of them turned around, but his reflexes were too slow and the blade lodged in his side, possibly wounding him fatally. The other, however, spotted and dodged the blade with one fluid motion.

Damn, they're fast. As he turned and took off toward them, apparently intent on putting a stop to her dagger-throwing, Lisha had one comment.

"Shass." Melora did not need a translation.

Edit: Here you go.

[ Monday, August 29, 2005 22:02: Message edited by: Arancaytar ]

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OoC: Uh... unless I'm mistaken, Andros, Sequoia, Cyrus, and Norran were all still in Verwey. Just a little inconsistency.

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OOC: I didn't think his armor would explode when he is defeated. His armor is supposed to collapse. Only spells meant to make things explode and explosives can make him explode.

[ Sunday, August 28, 2005 19:46: Message edited by: Zephyr Tempest ]

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If you never rise against your oppressor, then you've already lost.
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
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EDIT: Looks like the bladesmen aren't above using enchanted weaponry, then, doesn't it.

IC: "Don't kill all," Lisha said quickly. "Useful," she explained, catching a glimpse of the elf's face. Drawing several daggers of her own, she melted back into the shadows, placing a sufficient number of trees between herself and the melee and leaving Melora to defend herself. If she couldn't survive that... well, let the strongest survive.

A strong gust snatched the cloak from Lisha's lower body, and she positioned her arms to keep it from closing again. Wedging her knives between a sash and her clothing, she ran her fingers over the various pouches. She'd watched both of the elf's throws. Even a straighter aim, such as mine, won't do the trick. These men are veterans. The wounded man would live, would continue to fight, would surely fight another day. No; burying a blade was not enough. She needed something a little more potent.

Finding the correct pouch, Lisha undid the clasp and drew the covering back carefully. A pungent odor drifted quickly up to her nostrils, and she allowed herself a moment of reminiscence; the adrenaline rushing through her body, the all-pervasive scent of a fresh kill mixing with a hint of woodsmoke, the livid sun beating down upon her, down upon the snake before her, upon the shifting sand beneath her boots, enveloping her in the shimmering air, the minimal breeze doing nothing to dry the blood on her knife. A whiff of pine interjected itself between her thoughts and reality; tossing the sand and the sun aside, she grasped a blade carefully and dipped it into the pouch. She drew it out, sought another, and carefully dipped the second. Closing the pouch with a single finger, she allowed the cloak to fall around her once more and moved slowly back towards the fight.

Melora was locked in combat with the wounded bladesman, who delivered blow after clanging blow to her flashing knives. Many missed, but enough connected to make retaliation impossible. His companion, having dispatched a soldier soon after spotting the elf, was fast approaching. He raised his broadsword above his head; Melora stumbled, trying to avoid two blades at once, and desperately threw herself at her initial target. Her strike missed; the bladesman collected himself and pushed her away. Taking advantage of her openness, the second swordsman leapt-

-and fell, gasping, a knife protruding from his side. All three looked in astonishment at Lisha, who had stepped into the moonlight with her throw. Her hood thrown back, hair blowing in the wind, she sent a shiver down the fallen man's spine. Her eyes flashed as she sent the second dagger sailing towards Melora's, which had evidently found purchase in the man's body. In deflecting Lisha's blade, the guildsman stepped closer to the almost forgotten elf. Melora drew a knife across the man's throat and sidestepped his dying slash, then quickly turned back to his previously unwounded companion.

The bladesmen tried to get up, stumbled, and fell again. He found the hilt protruding from his side with his hand and pulled, but could not find the strength to move it; he had become too lethargic. Lisha, watching idly, opened the pouch again and prepared another knife.

"What did you do?"

"Santhian viper. Used by some of the more eccentric Tass Shanti mages for protection. Their poison stuns their victim first, then kills them later. Quite effective, especially if you know how to behind y-"

Lisha, seeing a similarly startled expression on Melora's upturned face, twisted around with the dagger before her. A crushing blow snapped the blade and drove Lisha to the ground; she rolled away as another blow fell to her left, then doubled over as a hardened boot connected with her side. The bladesman tugged his sword from the soil and raised it again. Fumbling for a weapon, Lisha saw Melora throw a similar attacker from her back, then fall to the ground. No, she thought, no, she can't be... With an enraged yell, she brought a new blade up and prepared to fight.

[ Sunday, August 28, 2005 21:00: Message edited by: Lady Davida ]

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quote:
Originally written by Lady Davida:

EDIT: Looks like the bladesmen aren't above using enchanted weaponry, then, doesn't it.

If you thought that Caecus' fighting was too strong, someone should have just mentioned it and I would have toned it down. Removing my character from the fight is NOT the solution!

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If you never rise against your oppressor, then you've already lost.
-Zephyr Tempest, your personal entertainer
Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
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Not Caecus himself, no. I'm curious, however, how exploding would remove him from battle any more effectively than collapsing. Either way he's a spirit temporarily without a body.

You know, one common problem with character-based RPs is that it's impolite to kill other PCs, even though it would be more realistic that way. By creating a character who can be incapacitated without dying, you've found a happy medium for us all.

Caecus has already done enough in the battle, and out of the battle. Don't feel like it's not fair that you're missing out on something, just go with it. Caecus has to regain his body somehow, preferably not quickly and easily. Have fun with that. Remember, too, that you can describe the battle even if your character isn't in it. Really, though, I don't see the need.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
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OoC: I thought that seemed a bit odd... while Caecus's charge was a bit overpowered (or so it seemed to me), he hardly deserved to be detonated.

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Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.

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Well, sorry, all right? :rolleyes: Fixing.

Geez.

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The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki!
"Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft.
"I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik
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"It's not my fight" Tuulentekija said and took few steps forwards. Then he suddenly stopped, and turned back to Edith and Filbert.

"You don't have to come" he said while staring the two with his pitch-black eyes, "but may I ask, what do you win by turning back? You are not warriors, so you wouldn't be too much help in a fight. And I doubt there's much for you back home. If there was, you wouldn't have come here anyway."

Tuulentekija didn't remain long enough to hear their answers. He went to follow Cain, singing a strange, sad song on his own tongue.

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IC:

Filbert stood there and watched Tuulenkija while he walked away. then he looked to edith. Much for me at home? Don't think so. Filbert thought. "Wait!" he shoute, and ran after Tuulenkija and Cain. Edith remained. watching them all slowly disappear in the snow.

OOC:
Was it actrually still snowing? i forgot.

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IC:

The battle was getting intense. Andros was still exchanging blows with the leader of the group, Cyrus was still locked in combat with his opponent, Norran was trying to aim spells at the bladesmen (with little success), and Brother Sequoia was dodging attacks from a third bladesman.

The druid's staff whirled like a dust devil, parrying every blow. I can't keep this up forever... there must be another way.

Cyrus was also starting to wear down, and his opponent seemed just as fresh as ever. Andros and his enemy were still at full strength, though Sequoia had no idea how.

Sequoia felt his cloak rip from a blade's slash, and a bit of fresh blood dripped down his arm, staining his dark green robes. Well, if that's how he insists on doing this...

Brother Sequoia began to mutter as he whirled his staff around his skilled opponent, and the staff began to glow with a blinding white light. The blademaster staggered from the sudden flash of light, and Sequoia quickly took the advantage. With the strength already fading from his injured arm, he landed a flurry of blows on the blademaster's helmet, knocking it off his head. Then, a sickening thud followed the poor soul's dented skull to the ground.

As the druid's opponent fell, Cyrus had just managed to trip his opponent (thanks in part to a timely fireball from Norran), and had his blade to the man's throat. Clearly beaten, the bladesman fell silent and awaited his death. It didn't come.

"We have much to discuss." Cyrus said bluntly to him.

Norran had already aimed a few spells at Andros and his enemy, but all had missed their chaotic melee, which showed no signs of slowing.

"Leave him to me!" Andros shouted over the sound of clanging metal. "This is my battle!"

Hearing this, the rest of the group fell silent and watched. Brother Sequoia turned his attention to his wounds.

OoC: There we go, Sequoia's out of the picture for a bit. Waiting on you, Wise Man.

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Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.

I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion.
Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00
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quote:
Originally written by Arancaytar:

Well, sorry, all right? :rolleyes: Fixing.

Geez.

He's supposed to collapse upon having a piece of his armor knocked off. Even though it would be cool if he could fight with one arm, that, along with his other qualities, would certainly make him overpowered. Sorry.

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If you never rise against your oppressor, then you've already lost.
-Zephyr Tempest, your personal entertainer
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OOC: Fixed the Andros part. Zephyr, sorry but that's as far as realism goes. You couldn't escape that without a scratch, and you did complain about being taken out of combat entirely.

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The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki!
"Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft.
"I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik
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Edith stands alone along the path watching as the others walk away. She looks up at the mountain, sizing it up and thinking to herself as the snow starts to come down faster and clump to her hair. Why haven't we been tested yet? What are you waiting for, Orloki? You have to know we are here by now. I can’t stand this suspense. She looks up into the sky at the falling snow and then in the direction of the peak of the mountain.

What in the world could that be?! Edith spots a manmade-looking object protruding from the snow and ice about 100 feet up. She dons her climbing gear and climbs up through the ice and boulders to find out what it is. Once she reaches it, she finds the object is encrusted in a layer of ice and snow and seems to be sticking out of the mountain. After removing the snow and ice from the object with an ice pick and a hammer, she is shocked by what she sees.

Before her is an incredibly life-like statue of a man with a look of utter terror and surprise on his face. He wears the garb of the Kingdom of Aram. The statue looks like it has been frozen here for at least 20-some years. She looks down the mountain, hoping to see the rest of her party so she can call to them about her discovery. Instead, she notices another statue, lying on its side in pieces a few feet away. Looking around her in all directions, she can see dozens upon dozens of statues sticking up out of the ice and snow. Some are more buried than others and some look like they are hundreds of years old. Some wear similar Aram-type garb and others wear that of the nearby Eastern Land Kingdom. Oddly enough, she sees only two statues that are clearly wearing that of the land she is currently in, the Kingdom of Truth.

Then suddenly and without warning, Edith’s spine tingles and she shivers. I recognize that feeling. Someone or something is watching me. The feeling goes away as suddenly as it came and leaves a sort of residue of evil behind it. She looks all around her in the hopes of finding out who or what was watching her. Look as she may, however, the whiteness of the snow and ice is too blinding for her to see much against the gray and black mountain. Nevertheless, her scanning pays off when she spots something that she hadn’t noticed before. She sees a cave 50 feet off in the direction of her party with no snow or ice around it that has what looks like steam venting from it. What’s more, it appears to be in the center of the myriad of statues around it.

That's curious. Edith cautiously makes her way over to it and examines it closely. She finds old bones, trinkets, bits of fur, and reptilian scales lying all around just inside the entrance. A smell of decay and sulfurous gas emits from the cave, making her wince. It’s then that she notices the footprints in the snow. Crouching down she examines them.

These are definitely reptilian and fresh as well. Edith looks up to see where they lead. When she realizes that they head down the mountain in the same direction that her party is going, she becomes terribly panic-stricken. "Dear god, if this creature is what I think it is, then my party is going to walk right into it! I must get to them and warn them at once!!"

Edith quickly makes her way down the mountain to the path as fast as she can. From there, she practically sprints towards her party, hoping to make up for the lost distance between them.

[ Tuesday, August 30, 2005 16:34: Message edited by: Sir Sherlock Holmes ]

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"Something is definetly wrong with that cave" Tuulentekija muttered while staring at rising whisps of steam.

"What did you say?" Cain asked and turned to look at him.

"That cave over there" Tuulentekija said and pointed to a small opening around 50 feet above them. "It's freezing cold, and still steam rises from it."

"It's propably just a hot spring or something similar" Cain shrugged. "Don't be too worried about it."

Just then, Filbert froze and gave out a surprised yel. Both Cain and Tuulentekija turned to look at him.

"What was that?" they asked in unison.

"Edith" Filbert said and pointed a cliff near the cave. "I'm sure I saw her up there."

"Now how did she get there before us. She must have taken an easier route. Let's go and ..."

Suddenly, Tuulentekija froze. He had seen something. Something very unnerving. "Close your eyes. Tightly" he said. "And stay behind me. There's something very dangerous ahead..."

EDIT: tpyos

[ Wednesday, August 31, 2005 06:34: Message edited by: Frozen Feet ]

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The instruction to close eyes gave Cain enough information to know what exactly Tuulentekija thought he saw.

Cain, for the first time since the beginning of the journey, was nervous. "Are you sure it's a basilisk Tuulentekija?" Cain asked, already holding three silver throwing daggers in one hand and his saw-like dagger in the other.

Tuulentekija was silent, apparently he was listening to everything around him, Filbert was breathing deeply. From the cliff near the cave, or at least they thought it came from there, the party could hear Edith's warning. "Watch out! There is a basilisk in that cave!"

"Did that answer your question Cain?" Tuulentekija responded.

It did, but it raised another in Cain's mind. Where is the damn thing?

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A basilisk? , Tuulentekija thought. Well, now I know what that beast is called in their languange. You always learn something new...

No, Tuulentekija had not seen the basilisk. Instead, his eyes were fixed to a piece of text written to the snow. It read 'Sulje silmäsi! Lisko jonka katse tappaa!'

A lizard with a killing gaze, Tuulentekija pondered. I wonder what that kind of a beast is that. Well, I suppose I'll get to know that soon enough.

Tuulentekija closed his eyes and focused. He hoped that the years he had trained in pirunnyrkki would pay themselves off. Unfortunately, that was not the case this time...

[ Wednesday, August 31, 2005 06:33: Message edited by: Frozen Feet ]

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"Close your eyes!" Tuulentekija shouted. Filbert didn't know what he was talking about. he kept them open. Why should I close my eyes? What did he see?

This became all to clear when he heard edith shouting "There's a basilisk ion that cave!" Filbert froze of fear. Sure, he killed that bladesman, but, a basilisk? Oh mummy mummy mummy! Filbert thought. After a moment he stopped panicking and just shut his eyes.

"Eh, guys? What exactly does a basilisk do?" he never thought of what a basilisk could do. he just was frightened of that name.

"Well", Cain said,"a basilisk can stone you with one gaze."

"That certainly doesn't appeal to me," Filbert replied. he shivered.

In the meantime, edith came running down. She tripped, though, over a stone that was buried under the snow. She fell. When they all heard her falling, Cain opened his eyes and carefully looked around him. No basilisk around. he slowly walked over to Edith and helped her up. "We should close our eyes..." Edith said, whispering, when suddenly, a black figure creeped around the cave, about 50 ft up...

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Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods).

Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk

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Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
Profile Homepage #223
OOC: Getting stoned by a basilisk must cause one heck of a hangover.

IC:

He missed the lung. Melora felt an arc of lightning travel down her spine as she fell forward, managing to throw off her attacker at the same time. She remained on the ground for a fraction of a second, then jumped back up, neatly escaping another slash from her assaultant. The knife had almost pierced her right back muscle, but in such a way that it hindered movement only marginally.

Duck. Sideways step, slash, turn, fall back, slash down, duck. Stab upward, block, feint right, duck. Block, block again, du--damn.

Melora stumbled again, less from clumsiness than from the momentary break of concentration that the stab had done to her shoulder. She could not tell the severity of her injury, but her right arm was limp and unusable for now. Her lightning-quick reflexes allowed her to turn her fall into a forwards roll, escaping the blade of her attacker and landing on her feet.

Bleeding from two places now, she charged him. The blademaster received a deep cut in the sword arm, but it was not sufficient to disarm him and Melora paid for her boldness with a wound to her left side, just above the hip.

I'm getting my ass kicked, it flashed through her mind. An ignoble end for one such as her...

Hárf'er'melóra had long ceased to wonder what it was that she shared her mind with, since that dark time in the cave that her memory had blotted out. Most of the time, it seemed to leave her alone and was content to dwell in her subconscious, tucked away in a dark corner like her baser predatorial instincts.

The moonlit midnight gave way to a twilight world, at once all grey and of colors that her mind could not describe. Time was slowing down, her limbs moving as if through tar. But she was in no danger; her opponent was similarly hampered. His movements were blurry, superimposed. There were two, three, a multitude of ghostly blademasters moving were one should be, copying each other's movements in a blurred trail of images.

Without thinking, hárf'er'melóra gripped her dagger and rushed forward to stab the foremost of the blademasters. She felt air beneath her blade, but only for an instant.


Staggering backward and coming out of her trance, Melora saw the blademaster crumpling. Her dagger, by some trick a mere blink of an eye ahead of his movements, had lodged in his throat as he moved to the place where Melora had seen him a heartbeat earlier.

---

Lisha appeared to be engaged likewise in a duel with her opponent. She appeared to be faring mildly better - Melora could see only one wound, and that insignificant.

Seeing the graceful dance of the two fighters whose deadly movements were more an art than a skill, she was half tempted to let them battle it out on their own.

Half.

A moment later, there was the hissing gasp of air being sucked in with a last breath, as the second ambusher sank to the ground. Bending over, Melora retrieved her throwing dagger and winced as the wound sent fresh lightning across her back.

After her trance, the dark shadows of her eyes were still wide and gazing into the black voids as if seeing strange visions of the kind that make men mad. But - it might have been a trick of the moonlight - her grin almost looked a hint less predatorial than usual.

"A debt repaid, yes?"

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Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00
Guardian
Member # 2339
Profile #224
Caecus continued fighting after losing his "arm".

This can't turn out well. he thought. He cut off part of a blademaster's nose and parried a counter-attack. But he theen suffered a severe stab on his breastplate. The bonds of his armor were weakening, but he continued fighting.

"I need support!" Caecus shouted. Sure enough, a Verwey soldier came to his assistance, but Caecus still had another blademaster with whom to contend. Caecus attacked, but was parried and had to face a riposte. He hit Caecus' arm, but to no avail. Caecus stabbed at the blademaster's eye and missed, but then kicked his stomach. Caecus' armor vibrated as he slowed down.

I'm not going to last much longer before I collapse. he thought. He parried another attack and succesfully counter-attacked by scarring his opponent's sword-hand. But his armor was vibrating violently and he could barely move.

"I need more support!" Caecus said right before his armor collapsed and fell at his spectral feet.
The feedback from the broken bond ensued. Hostile magics pulsed through his being and caused his spirit great pain. He let out a ghastly wail and cursed at his opponent in Moon-elf tongue before falling on the ground, paralyzed.

OOC: I guess I've done enough in this battle.

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*Blue screen error*
NONEXISTANT WINDOWS ERROR
Windows detects no current errors, so Windows has decided
to screw around with the files until one occurs.

If you never rise against your oppressor, then you've already lost.
-Zephyr Tempest, your personal entertainer
Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00

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