Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Lonewolf888978, Jan 5, 2015.

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  1. Name: Celthric Rivtdale
    Age: 22
    Race: Human
    Profession: Spell-Sword
    Screams echoed around the knight as the undead poured through the main gate of the rather large village. Some guards tried to push back the undead, but were the first to fall, their lifeless bodies becoming food for the herd, and soon enough, join their ranks. Atop the walls, archers fired down below, their arrows piercing the rotting flesh, killing them, or slowing them down.
    As one archer readied another arrow, an arrow pierced his throat, a group of armored skeletons with various weapons helped the horde of zombies. The skeleton archers kept letting the arrows fly, making more guards fall. An explosion sounded at the middle of the undead horde, as a mage of some sort fired a ball of molten fire, melting the zombies, and sending some skeletons flying.
    Snapping back to reality, Celthric drew his sword, and readied his shield, and observed the battle field once more. An elvish woman pushed past him, a cut on her forehead. A group of two orcs charged the undead, twin axes in both of their hands. A dwarf fired a crossbow bolt, that slowly started to freeze a skeleton as it thudded into its chest plate, and another dwarf slammed its hammer into its knee, shattering its bone.

    Decpite their efforts, even more undead poured in, god know how many more were behind it. Turning, Celthric ran towards the market area, maybe he could get out by the port. He watched as another gate exploded to splinters, more undead coming through, a large, skeletal ogre at the front of the wave of death. Cursing, Celthric ran down between two houses, smack dab into two zombies, and a skeleton. Dropping to a knee, he slammed his sword through one of the rotting flesh bags leg, sending it falling over. As he stood back up, he slammed is armored boot into the zombies head. Blocking a slash from the skeleton, he followed up by slamming his shield and his body into the skeletons chest. As he drove his sword through the thin spine that held the skeleton together, he felt the other zombie limp towards him.

    Rolling off the skeleton, he shot his hand forward, a fire ball forming at his finger tips. It connected to the zombies shoulder, and it was easily seen the melting flesh fall from its rotting bones, as it let out more one groan.​
  2. [​IMG]

    A tall, rather gruff young man leaped from a nearby rooftop, his leather boots slamming against the head of two skeletons and crushing the hard skulls into white paste. Sharply, he twisted on his feet and brought up two gleaming onyx crossbows, a small smirk forming on his grizzled face as he clicked the triggers of both crossbows. Once. Three razor-sharp bolts launched from each crossbow, blasting forward as if the Devil himself were on their heels. They buried themselves into six skeleton skulls, the pure power sending the skeletons flatout into the air, where the bolts exploded in a fiery explosion of lightning, burning the bones to ash.

    Vayne walked past the spell-sword, twisting his two crossbows around his fingers before expertly magnetizing them to his hips. "Quick, while the way is clear." His deep, gruff voice spoke out as the man broke out in a feather-quick sprint down the bloodied street. The ground in front of him exploded, but with almost supernatural speed and strength, the Demon Hunter slammed his fist into the large slabs of cobblestone, leaping high over the massive split in the path. As he was at the highest pinnacle of the jump, a large, rotten bear creature lunged from the ravine. It was almost in slow motion; Vayne flipped forward, whereas he was literally upside down over the beast's snapping jaws. His crossbows were in his hands in literally a snap of his fingers, and the beast let out a disgusting, glass-breaking roar as six bolts slammed into it's open maw - only to, once again, explode in a massive explosion of arcing lightning, frying it's brain and face into mush.

    Vayne landed on the other side of the ravine, and promptly began his mad sprint for the port, his momentum not being affected in the slightest.
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  3. [​IMG]

    Nago swirled around the battlefield before dropping low and scooping up an undead orc with his talons and tossing him into his huge mouth piercing the orcs body with his large snake like fangs, Nago twisted in the air and landed in the middle of the undead army with a massive roar, he lashed his tail throwing skeletons, zombies and all sorts of undead through the air, trampling them as he turned in a tight circle he opened his jaws wide and let loose a torrent of firey red flames incinerating them on contact, he lunged his large body forward grabbing a huge orc between his fangs, crunching him and spitting him out he snarled at the wave of undead before taking to the air again with slashes and cuts across his under belly.

    Nago let out an enraged roar before diving into the mass again twisting his massive red body and lashing his tail releasing torrents of fire that turned his foes to dust or sent them screaming and burning in the opposite direction. His lower half was bleeding and stuck with arrows and spears and blades of all kinds when he thrusted himself back into the air and arching towards the town.
    #3 AdamantiumWolf, Jan 5, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 6, 2015
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  4. X i o m a r a A e r a o s
    2 4
    D a r k E l f
    Tempest, a type of archer that excels in stamina, defense and aoe. Their dizzying attacks keeps all the enemies in place and not scattered about to make victory smoother for all other party members. Her speed makes up for her lack of offense, often having to stay in combat with lost of focus, as she needs to land much more hits than other classes to defeat an enemy.
    If possible, a tempest tries to use physical attacks when in close combat, then arrows when her enemies are farther away.

    Xiomara hissed under her breath. The mossy port was empty as far as she knew it, however, attracting another decrepit animal while she was vulnerable would be severe. She had a flurry of bleeding cuts on her left thigh, jarring and bright with irritation. Her foot was submerged in the green waters of a crippled fountain, as she attempted to clean her cuts with haste. The dark elf ran her numbed fingers over the redness, the water ice cold and becoming yellow from her blood. She shook from not only paranoia, but the frosty wind galloping from the sea.

    Light green eyes slithered over into the distance, the sound of multiple feet hitting the ground, then a large crumble. The unseen ravine shook the ground even from where she was. Cursing under her breath, she pulled her foot from the water, causing splashing noises as the trembling ground made her anxiety go through the heavens. The water stuck in her boot slowed her down. Pulling it off with one vicious tug, she fell backwards onto her bottom and poured it out onto the dirty ground. Her ears picked up on sharp sounds, like things splitting through the infested foggy air, and not a second sooner, there goes a slurred roar of the defeated dead.

    Not taking the chance to figure out who or just what was coming, assuming it was the revived enemy, Xiomara lunged back with soggy boot in mouth. Baring her teeth and pulling an arrow from the quiver strapped tightly to her back, she pulled the string of her bow taut. Rolling to her feet, things were taking it's sweet time to reveal the threat. Her toes curled as she awaited the source of the noise. It was coming too fast, it was too late to turn and flee. If she did, she would get caught and killed.

    Making sure the feathered arrow would hit the target before it rounded the corner and came into the clearing, the elf released the arrow early. With a satisfying snap, the arrow whistled through the air towards on comer which would be Vayne.
    #4 spoopily, Jan 6, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 6, 2015
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  5. Celthric stared in utter amazement as the Demon Hunter swiftly destroyed six separate skeletons, with a bolt each. Nodding his thankfulness, Celthric followed the Demon Hunter, as a roar echoed somewhere nearby. Turning he watched as a massive red dragon flew into the air, roaring a powerful roar, that shook the very cobblestone streets. "Holy Hell. The Devil himself is attacking us tonight." Turning to his companion, he saw his hooded ally didnt stop to marvel at the figure. Starting to catch up to the Hunter, he heard another roar, and turned to spot the dragon arching towards the town. Picking up the pace, he barely managed to jump over the ravine, preforming a sloppy roll to not slide back into the gap in the road. He watched as the bear's snout melted from the crossbow bolts hidden powers, the rest of the creatures face soon melting along too. Quickly standing up, he watched as the Hunter landed, carrying the momentum to keep his speed up. Cursing himself, he followed along the man, eager to keep pace.
    Jumping over a burning corpse, he tried to keep his pace, finally pausing as an arrow flew around the corner, flying towards his companion. Reading his shield, he readied it, charging at who or whatever let the arrow fly.
  6. By the Gods...dragons? What had humanity done to deserve such punishments? Vayne growled as an arrow barely skimmed past his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. Not hesitating as he saw his new companion charge the archer, the Demon Hunter smoothly sidestepped, just as a zombie lunged past him. Grabbing the undead mid-air, Vayne slammed it into the ground and brutally tore a crossbow bolt through the back of it's head, nailing it there forever. As he stood and aimed both crossbows at the girl, the bolted zombie behind him exploded in fire.
  7. Nago twisted in tight circles above the raging battlefield, he'd drop and catch his enemies in his claws either crushing them or stuffing them into his mouth to be chewed and swallowed, further toward the town he saw an undead giant with a huge tree trunk heading toward the wall of the village, Nago shot toward him and tackled the giant flipping them both over and sliding across the dirt, Nago rolled to his feet and faced the giant only to meet the branch as it slammed into the side of his face and neck. With an enraged roar the echoed over the lands he clamped his fangs down on the branch ripping it from the giants grasp, then he lept forward tackling the monstrosity sinking his large snake like fangs into the throat of the giant who slowly stopped punching Nago's sides.
    Lifting his head Nago screamed his victory to the heavens releasing a stream of flames that lit up the sky.
  8. Xiomara stepped back as the dragon came into view. What in good Harthrin's name?
    She trembled in fear, knees bending and ready to flee like a madman, until the two 'undead' came into the clearing.
    They didn't look familiar, but since one of them was already charging and there was one armed with dual crossbows, she didn't want to stay and find out. Cursing, her feet thinking for her, she fell over into the fountain, shrieking. Shakily turning to her knees, she crawled away, head dunked low as she rolled out of the fountain onto her back with another comical shriek. One was charging by foot, but the other had bows!
    Xiomara clawed at one of her cuts, blood resurfacing and her magic activating. Water was everywhere... Dragon, two people trying to kill her, she would rather throw up a white flag and let them have their way with her!
    A ominous purple eye appeared of her forehead, her cheeks turning red as a large bouncing eye with a large slimy iris of violet, vaulted from the fountain. It's lower half split into a mouth of fangs, barking like a dog. She took the time to start to crawl away in a frenzy, humiliated and soaking. No coin in the world could convince her going into this with no allies again was a good idea. Go you stupid summoning, give them hell!​
  9. [​IMG]
    Laurel scrambled behind a house as a group of the rotting undead barreled past, likely having found a target to feast on judging by the horrible screams he heard a split second later. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming or emptying his stomach of his meager dinner, the overwhelming smell and sounds of horror making him weak in the knees. But he could not afford to stop here. He had to get back to the church.
    The house of God would keep him safe as it had done for the past twenty years he'd been alive. Laurel was certain of it.
    He had been alter boy at a younger age, growing in his faith and maturity over the years until he had been appointed the youngest priest the town had ever known.
    At such a time like this his position was all the more important. It was likely there were people already at the church seeking refuge from the massacre outside and he needed to be there to prayer with them.
    He almost wished he had not been called away from the church that evening to prayer over an ailing old man but he knew it was all part of God's plan.
    What his lord intended for him to gain from this experience was beyond Laurel's comprehension at this point but his faith did not waver.
    When he could no longer hear the low growling of the undead near him, Laurel peeked around to confirm that they had moved on. Seeing nothing he deemed it safe enough to move.
    He wasn't strong or quick but he knew the layout of the town, places he could hide if need be, and that would be his only advantage on this most hellish of nights. He was confident in himself until he heard the unmistakable roar of a dragon and a loud crashing sound followed by the shaking of the earth itself. Freezing in place, Laurel's eyes flitted up to the sky in time to see a great gout of fire erupt into the night.
    It was all too much... What had been done that caused their town to be set upon by the denizens of Hell itself?
    Fear rooted itself in Laurel's heart and he scampered over to crouch beneath a wooden stall that only a few hours ago had likely been selling something. He wondered if the merchant still lived or was lying someone ripped to shreds.
    The church was not far but Laurel was beginning to think he would not make it there alive. He would need to find the town guards, ask for an escort. But where were they?​
  10. The dragons were incredibly worrying, but the Demon Hunter had dealt with hellish creatures from the Underworld. None so...rotten, but similar enough, and the Demon Mark he was branded with at birth...well, it would help with surviving this encounter. However, what was more important, was getting out of this hellhole of a town and finding a safe place to breath. He dropped his wicked crossbows, crimson light dancing on his gloved hands as the crossbows dissolved and two long, razor-sharp, and absolute Hellish katanas formed in his grip, aesthetically similar to his crossbows. Twirling them around his hands at an impossible speed, Vayne faced the summon.

    Crimson fire began to lick at the edge of his katanas.

    "Die, fiend." He growled lowly, suddenly dashing forward and nimbly flipping over the large...eye thing. As he twisted on his heel, the Demon Hunter plunged both of his fiery katanas towards the back of the eye monster, waiting for the feeling of cold Hell Metal to slice through gelatin-like flesh.
  11. Congratulations! You've successfully killed the shit out of that summoning! Not that it was that hard, Xiomara has terrible summoning skills under extreme pressure.

    Xiomara's head only ducked lower, boot still in mouth and looking red in the face. Her eyes were glazed off, one hundred percent focused on escaping and looking for a safe place to rest. Not to worry about weak eye demons, not to worry about frightening charging men of steel and their flying ballerina archers of impressive death, not to worry about giants fighting dragons and zombies!

    She was panting heavily, her forearms cold and sore from the pebbles on the port floor. Hearing a sickening wet slice and a whimper signaling death, she quickened her pace. Already? Already. Slayed that thing in... Sweet Harthrin. She wanted to get to her feet, but it would take only a second too long and she wouldn't have her arrow ready.

    Xiomara turned onto her side, looking back at the male who now equipped swords in both hands. She glanced at the gooey mess of her summoning simmer and melt into two large white puddles. Fear was clear in her eyes, shivering in the dreary weather that matched the fall of this village. She pulled an arrow from her wet quiver, fingertips touching the clumpy feathered tips. She pulled her bow taut, aiming at the man who slain her summoning.

    As she did this, the eye of her forehead exploded into dark flame, a ringlet of light surrounding it before fading. Her hands were as shaky as leaf. Xiomara bit her lip, voice cracking. "Drift any closer and...!" She didn't even hear the duo of zombies sweeping in behind her, ready for their next meal. As she looked up at them, head leaning that, one of them lunged at her. Yelling, she turned her bow and arrow that was ready towards it. With a sharp thwap, the zombie then now had a nice arrow headpiece.​
  12. As Nago flung himself back into the air he wasn't prepared for the undead mage who shot a flaming purple spike into his chest, with a scream he blasted fire in circles all around him before throwing himself backwards through the air with a quick snap of his wings, his front talons raked at the spear sticking from his chest as he tried to pull it out, soaring backwards through the air Nago screamed again blasting at the spear shaft with his liquid hot flames, the fire didn't harm his scales but melted the spike until it was just the head still in his chest, twisting back around he leapt to the ground crashing over the ravine and smashing the fountian with his tail, Nago laid there stunned at immense pain that radiated from the spear head in his breast, his wings lay haphazardly around him as he laid face down in the dirt.
  13. Vayne's young, yet grizzled face scrunched into a scowl as he heard the female's voice crack. He was still confused as to why she attacked him, but judging by the following events, she wasn't a main enemy. Squaring his shoulders, the Demon Hunter jerked his arm back, before releasing it forward, watching the wicked, demonic katana pierce right through the second zombie's head, just as it was about to lunge towards the female archer a second time. As soon as the blade passed completely through the zombie's cranium, the undead was promptly burned to ashes, while both swords disappeared, replaced by a large, curved black greatsword with wicked crimson spikes. Vayne brought the massive blade up with one hand, about to question the female...until the sound of roars and beating wings sounded out.

    He barely moved back before a massive dragon crashed into the fountain. Almost instinctively, Vayne brought up his large buster blade and got into a combat-ready position, slowly moving to the great beast. "Are you sentient, dragon?" He asked slowly.
  14. Xiomara watched as the stranger towering above her, mighty and fearless, easily take out the other zombie he wouldn't be able to take on before it pounced on her. Watching the twin swords in his hands morph into one thick one, she scampered back. Making sure there was no zombies behind her, she crawled backwards, facing the deadly pursuer.

    She expected him to just raise up the sword and behead her in one fell swoop. If he was going to do it, just get on with it! All this waiting and suspense was slaughtering her state of mind.

    Olive eyes were wide with wonder as he just looked down upon her. It was almost insulting, but an event is taking place. Stumbling to her feet as the dragon crashed pitifully into the fountain, wings arching to fall and body lumbered across the broken debris. Xiomara's eyes filled with pity, wanting to walk over. But it was full dragon. She sure as hell wasn't going to do that. She pulled on her boot, eyes following the man sneaking up to the heaving being. Hearing the question he hesitantly whispered, Xiomara faintly took note that this guy's voice really fit him for a gruff, intimidating killer.

    The stinging in her left thigh was a bother, and she could still walk, run, sprint and jump as much as she'd like. The best thing is to rest somewhat, he obviously was not going to kill her now. If he wanted to, her head would have rolled off the docks by now. She twisted her foot in her boot, wet and chilly from the water, stomping it a few.

    This tall guy was speaking to a dragon. Who knows? It might respond.​
  15. Nago lifted his large serpentine neck and blew a torrent of flames into the sky "I am an ally of the defenders! If you strike me I will melt you into your boots! " rolling over he looked down at his bleeding chest where the smallest part of the spear head stuck out
    "I have been shot by an undead wizard with trickery magic! This weapon burns hot in my breast!" Nago trumpeted fire into the sky once more before turning his glowing eyes filled with golden specks to the people standing there, breathing ashy smoke out his nostrils he roared arching his head and screaming his pain to the heavens.
  16. "Can I just say again that I am thinking of quitting?" Addora said dodging back as a zombie clawed at the space she had been standing at a moment earlier. There was a heavy thump as her sword connected with rotting flesh and the zombie's head rolled away.

    "And exactly what would you do? The rest of the Order wasn't exactly pleased last time you showed up." Deric said with a dry chuckle. The constant flood of attackers kept the two allies pressed almost back to back. The line of warriors that had stood so strong only that morning was beginning to splinter and tire. Even these two had lost sight of the rest of their crew as hail of arrows and several overly persistent zombies drove them to cover. A rotting corpse that looked like it might have once been a knight barreled into Deric, knocking him flat, its teeth snapping dangerously close to his neck. With more strength than you would expect of someone of Addora's size she grabbed the undead by some of his less decayed armor and tossed him back. "Any chance that beasty of yours wants to lend a hand?"

    "Want really isn't the problem now." Addora said helping Deric to his feet, her sword raised defensively. "To much action, to much blood. I might have more control over my monster but there is no guarantee. And as you just mentioned the majority of people don't really like werewolves."

    Those last few words were said quietly, all but lost to the crash of swords and the snap of bones, but Deric heard and he gave a dry chuckle as he parried a blow from a skeleton his own blade splitting the bleached skull a moment later. Over head a roar thundered and a powerful gust of wind hit them as a dragon flew past. Fire erupted in front of them and with muttered curses there were forced to draw back to the town. At least among the narrow streets fewer undead could attack them at once, perhaps they would be able to hold out a little longer before either they all died or reinforcements arrived. Perhaps it might would be best to rally around the local church. The monks and priests had holed themselves up behind their ivory walls but moving the fight onto holy ground might at least weaken the undead soldiers. All around them battered soldiers fell back to second positions, alleyways filled with debris as they tried to channel the tide through fewer of the back ways.

    A handful of medics and healers dodged past with a small gathering of warriors, retreating back to the docks to try and set up some kind of safe spot for wounded to be brought. They did not get very far when another roar, far louder than the first, was heard and the dragon soared past them plummeting straight for the ground. Addora and Deric exchanged looks for a moment before dethatching themselves from the fray and headed towards where the dragon had fallen, the medics couldn't risk the danger they would need an all clear signal before they risked heading to the docks.

    Peering cautiously around the corner the two were soon within ear shot so they heard the dragon speak. So it was an ally if not overly friendly, that was enough for an all clear signal. A gentle tap on her elbow told Addora that Deric would guide the healers through, she would see to the dragon. Wiping a few strand of long dark hair out of her face she stepped out of the alley, hand raised in greeting and sword lowered slightly. Everyone was very jumpy at this point, she didn't want to startle anyone into attacking. Slowly she approached her eyes flicking from the group of strangers to the dragon.

    "I might be able to pull it out, if you hold still." She said slowly and clearly. Keeping her eyes trained on the dragon she got even closer sheathing her sword as she went to show that she meant no harm. Reaching out she looked over at the dragon one last time before she reached out and grabbed the spike and gave it a hard yank. However a second later she leapt back with a howl of pain as the skin on her palm sizzled and smoked.

    "Enchanted silver!" She hissed angrily cradling her hand close to her chest, not letting the strangers see the seared flesh on her palm.
    #16 E.T., Jan 9, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 11, 2015
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  17. Nago watched as the new figure moved forward to pull the metal from his chest, he tried to look as friendly as a giant fire breathing dragon could as she offered to help, when she tugged roughly on it only to leap and yell about the magic Nago knew the weapon was already enchanted with. Roaring at the pulling of the blade he lashed his tail involuntarily knocking down a small wall.
  18. Reflexively Addora ducked as the dragon's tail flicked by, chucks of rock and mortar sailing over her head as the structure was reduced to rubble. Brow furrowed she tested her injured hand and was pleased to find that the damage, while it looked painful, was none to extensive. Her werewolf curse usually gave her some level of protection against such spells but the silver only made the spell more potent for her. Looking around she spotted the corner of some cloth poking out from a pile of debris. An experimental tug yielded a strip of cloth nearly double the width of her hand and about half her height. Aside from some questionable stains towards one end Addora felt the cloth was definitely workable and began tearing the cloth in half. Now with two long strips of cloth she was able to wrap one strand around each hand, covering any skin that might be damaged if she tried grabbing ahold of the blade again.

    "Sorry. Let's try that again." She said carefully. Hoping that the dragon hadn't taken some kind of offense to her initial failure she approached again. This time when she got close enough she raised one foot up and placed it near the base of where the blade pierced the dragon's skin. After a moment of hesitation where she shook her hands out as though trying to rid them of the hesitation at the thought of having her skin seared by enchanted silver she grasped the blade in one quick motion and pulled backwards. Using her foot for leverage and perhaps a bit more strength than she should show off the blade came free and she stumbled back.
  19. When the girl approached to take a second chance at it Nago steeled his body and held his breath, when she ripped the magical object from his chest he roared shooting a torrent of flames into the sky, then rolling to his feet he shot up through the flames with a victorious roar and dropped elegantly back down landing on what was left of the stand wall, arching his huge head he looked down at the female who had bravely pulled the spear head from his chest, he could smell that she was a werewolf and had hurt herself on the wizards spear "Thank you Child of the Moon" he bowed his head and shut his golden eyes while tilting his wings parallel to the ground and leaning forward in a draconic bow.
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