Return of the Dragon Tamers: The Plague of Ogual

[Soulserenity20]

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• 
  
  
  
  
  
  Return of the Dragon Tamers
  The time has come for the dragons and the humans to join forces once again...​
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Hunting the Blackshire Stags
  
  Narien, Illyria, Avren, Pomona
  
  Reverie, Xylia, Alder, Saira
  
  ​
  ​
• 
  
  Terria has been rescued and returned safely to the meadow. Her retrieval came at the cost of another talented tamer: Goliath, and his dragon Hezekiah. Terria slumbers in sickness of the body and the mind even as Merrik has spent more than a week at her side, healing her thrice daily, doing everything in his power to bring her back to the Order.
  
  The party that ventured to eastern Galidus to sort out the issues in Kibran returned with a new stranger who turned out to be the bondmate of the Valor dragoness, Andraste. Alder Grey has joined the ranks of the Order and now works to find his place.
  
  Shortly after the Order's reuniting in the meadow, a council was called the a vote was ordered for the army's next tactical move. With the votes in, the Order is now set on unlocking the memories of the strange man Bren and travelling to Galidus to meet with the new king, Kylvest Brohn of Trespa while simultaneously meeting with the People of Dragons elders.
  
  Before the Order sets off once more, they are taking time to return to their training at the meadow and heal their hearts and bodies. At current, Merrik has chosen to mix things up and brought the Order out to the north-eastern woods to hunt for Obsidian Nova's favorite game: Blackshire Stags. After a great deal of drama in Kibran regarding Merrik's decisions on leadership, he hopes that the Order will begin to sort itself out within the ranks and grow to trust each other more deeply in a time when trust among comrades is a necessity.
  
  
  
• 
  
  Character Hex Colors
  [spoili]
  Aerarya is #800080
  Saira is #33cccc
  Merrik is Red
  Nova is Black with Shadow and Italic.
  Avren is Green
  Viridian is Yellow Green with Italic.
  Terria is Dark Azure
  Taega is Medium Gray with Glow and Italic.
  Requiem is Maroon
  Aleria is Dark Green.
  Agni color is #999999
  Narien is #0092b3
  
  [/spoili]​
  Soulserenity20 ---- Merrik Tetra ----- Obsidian Nova, Nightmare Dragon
  Soulserenity20 -----Terria Tetra ----- Ataegana Kuu'iah, Lunar Dragon
  Soulserenity20 -----Avren Lebram ----- Viridian, Forest Dragon
  Rainjay -----Saira Rinien ----- Aerarya, Atmosphere Dragon
  Rainjay -----Illyria Rowena Renthir ----- Mirazh, Desert Dragon
  Firejay1 -----Narien Ki'ila ----- Angi, Arcane Dragon
  White -----Rèverie Gray ----- Celeste, Celestial Dragon
  Mowkie ----- Pomona Ayelet Muldell ----- Katla, Vanity Dragon
  Mowkie ----- Alder Balthazar Grey ----- Andraste, Valor Dragon
  Crimson77 ----- Xylia Kalei Iwalani ----- Deventh, Swamp Dragon
  
• 
  Tetra Estate - Coliseum, 8:17am
  
  The morning air was cool and crisp, the last signs of Winter nipping at Spring's hold on the lands. There was a deep fog rolling in over the eastern forest, blanketing the ancient trees with an eerie, chilling veil. A pair of deep green eyes scanned the surrounding landscape from a hundred feet in the air. Their owner felt no fear, no discomfort of the altitude, being as much at home in the skies as he was on the earth. While the height and the crisp morning air did not bother him, a deep concern was festering within the corners of his mind. It was not unusual for worry and concern to waft about in his thoughts, but the intensity of today's concern was unprecedented.
  
  There was a silence that surrounded him, cocooning him in its peaceful tendrils, broken only by the steady whoosh of powerful wings. With each heavy downbeat, the man in the sky would exhale, taking in the pristine air the ancient woods provided and letting it out in a meditative manner. His dark hair swayed gently, not by breeze, but by wing-beat. The man was concentrating on the legend that was about to begin a hundred feet below him. The man was sorting out his thoughts, organizing his concerns, perfecting his plan of action. Worrying. Concerning himself. Stressing.
  
  The mind is of no use when it is tangled and knotted with stress and worry.
  
  Merrik Tetra opened his eyes as a wave of reassurance swept into his mind, settling what had been stirred up, putting his last lingering thoughts in the right place, and shouldering the mental burden that so commonly threatened to crush him.
  
  "Your wisdom could not have been more welcome. But to execute concern would be unwise. Today the stories of the world will shift mid-sentence, a new chapter forcing its way into a tale of growing darkness. Today the legends of old will be reborn, history repeating itself at the hands of peril upon these lands." Though his lips did not move and no sound rang out into the air, his words found their way into the mind that commanded the wings beating powerfully at Merrik's sides.
  
  The man in the sky was not alone.
  
  A hundred feet above the Tetra Estate, a creature of myth lingered in the air, sustained by the grip of its thick wing membranes on the cool morning air. The creature was massive, larger than any common animal of the lands, and it wore a cloak of scales as black as a night sky devoid of any stars. Blood red eyes that made every onlooker feel like prey blinked slowly as they stared at the distant fog bank. It's vast wings, cloaked in the same obsidian scales that coated the beast's muscular body, wore rings, red as the most scalding lava.
  
  The creature was a dragon. A Nightmare Dragon, to be specific; a beast of legends and fairy tales from a time long ago, long before the memories of even the oldest human. For hundreds of years the sound of heavy wing-beats parting the air could not be heard in these lands, or any other for that matter. For hundreds of years, the great draconic race was thought to have been extinct, perished by the hands of elves or man or even time itself.
  
  Few would believe their eyes. But Merrik Tetra would not so much as blink at the site of such a creature, for the dragon of nightmares and terror that claimed the skies was his dragon, and Merrik was its human. They were soulmates, best friends, companions, one.
  
  More than 2 decades ago, when Merrik was just a little boy, he was brought down into a damp, dark cellar in the depths of his family's manor. There, he received an egg. From within that egg came a voice, though not one any other person would hear, unless it so chose to be heard. Within that egg was a hatchling nightmare dragon, the same drake upon which Merrik sat at that very moment. The dragon was given to him by a strange, mysterious old man who called himself The Oracle. This man changed Merrik's life, shifted his path of fate to one of severity and ultimatum. His life for the next two years was leading up to this moment, this cool spring morning.
  
  Today, Merrik was going to form an army, a re-birthed order of old, summoned up again to bring forth a the great protectors of Illos. Today, Merrik was going to change the lives of a group of individuals, the very same individuals that stood a hundred feet below him in the center of a coliseum. Behind the doors that lined the walls of the coliseum were more dragons. More disbelief shattered by flesh and blood. Two years ago, Merrik had once again been summoned into that musky cellar where The Oracle appeared once agian. This time, Merrik didn't receive one egg; he received an entire clutch, each one a different color, texture and size.
  
  From those eggs hatched dragons, one of each of the draconic species, apart from the Nightmares. Those hatchlings had spent the last two years of their lives growing and learning from Merrik and his dragon, Obsidian Nova. They were being trained and prepared for this very day, this moment. Each of the drakes behind those heavy wooden doors lacked a piece of its soul, a part of it that could never have been filled. Not until now.
  
  The group of people standing, uncertain in the middle of the coliseum, were chosen long ago, though they could not have known it. The Oracle had selected them at birth, when their souls entered into their bodies with their first breath. Each soul chosen, was the missing half of one of the dragons below. And today, those two souls would collide and fuse together, changing the fate of Illos forever.
  
  "They know so little of what is to come." Came Merrik's soundless voice from his own mind into the dragon's.
  The less they know, the less they can fear and fight what is to be. Though we know that each of the humans below is the soulmate of one of our yearlings, the yearlings do not know for certain. They believe that these are mere potential candidates for the bond. They will test them just as a wild dragon would have tested the first of the dragonlords so long ago. The humans will pass these tests, of this we have been assured by The Oracle. Everything is set into motion.
  
  Let their oblivion be their guide, for both dragon and human. Let the bond work in its natural ways, it will give them strength in the long run. The humans MUST prove themselves to their drake, not only for tradition's sake, but to unlock the power that hides within their blood. Tamers are not made, they are born at the very moment a dragon's soul awakens. In that moment, the two become connected, separated only by distance and time. The tamers have an ancient magic within their veins, though they do not know it yet.
  
  Today, the bond with unlock that magic and change their lives forever. We should not delay it any longer.
  
  Obsidian Nova had a way about him that commanded submission and trust. There was no one else in the world that could calm and reassure Merrik in such a way as the black dragon. Nova had an ancient wisdom to him that came with being a direct descendant of one of the first bonded dragons of the Order of Old. Though merely 21 by age, the dragon's wisdom went on for centuries. Merrik agreed without a word or thought.
  
  With perfect intent-directed synchrony, the dragon descended, lowing the pair and coming to rest on a great stone perch that sat at the head of the coliseum. As the dragon's talons touched down on the stone and his great wingspan retracted to a resting position, Merrik stood up from his place at the base of Nova's neck and slipped down off the dragon's back without a sliver of difficulty, landing on the thick, stone perch below.
  
  The attention of the visitors in the centre of the round mass of earth focused on him. Some eyes shone with excitement, others with a sly intent, and others with a plain annoyance. There was too much personality within that circle for Merrik to handle all at once. He silently thanked the gods of old that he didn't have to get up close and personal with the entire group just yet. For now, the focus of attention was on dragons, and Merrik was completely at home in the realm of dragons.
  
  "You have all be told of your purpose for standing her today. I can understand if some or many of your minds linger in disbelief, this is an event of dreams and myth. But make no mistake, you are here to become heroes, legends, and leaders. You are here to become one with beasts of old, powerful creatures not seen in these lands for hundreds of years." He walked to the end of the perch, balancing casually on the round, stone hold.
  
  "The doors that surround you are the temporary dens of the dragons of Illos. The doors will open in a few moments. You must all be strong, be fast, and be brave. Today, you become dragon tamers."
  Then, Merrik's deep green eyes became twice as vibrant as any human's and he swirled his right index finger in a curious manner, concentration clear on his expression. The doors slid open, lifting up to reveals cascading plumes of steam as the temperature difference made itself apparent. The cool morning air welcomed the sound of wingbeats, too many to count, as a mass of dragons shot out of the dark spaces and soared up into the air. Flames of every color decorated the skies, scaled beasts of every shape, size and color bolted about before peeling off from the group and honing in on select individuals.
  
  One of the dragons shot a jet of colored flame down at the ground, nearing searing one of the soon-to-be tamers. The tests had begun.
  
  Merrik and Nova watched silently as the young dragons they had raised from hatchlings attacked, questioned, chased, scared, and tested the group of visitors. Each was seeking a human worthy of their soul, of their life, of their bond. Each would find a human, though they did not know it, and until then, they would test their worthiness endlessly. Merrik pitied the men and women below, for they had not been informed of what the bond was, nor were they informed of the fact that the tests the dragons subjected them to would look more like an attack than anything, despite the fact that the drakes would not actually harm them. This pity went away mere moments after it arrived as Nova's presence in his soul shifted with the drake's emotion. Any amount of terror and confusion was worth the bond of dragon and tamer.
  
• 
  
  Combat Event Guide
  +Steps+
  

  1. GM Scenario Introduction.​
  2. Player Response. Combat Begins.​
  3. GM Response to Combat. Required die roll will be presented.​
  4. Player Response. Player Roll. Player may close combat.​
  5. GM Combat Close Response (if necessary)​

  
  +Basics Behind the Rolls+
  
  Three Types of Opponents: Basic, Challenging, and Boss.
  Basic: Just classic battling. It is generally expected that your character can handle this with general ease.
  Challenging: These will require higher rolls and a bit of strength in whatever technique the character uses to attack.
  Boss: These will require the best rolls, the most creativity, and the best weaponry/spells/approaches suited to the character.
  
  Three Types of Character Approaches: Strength, Weakness, Long Shot.
  Strength: The character attacks within their class/strength/ability.
  Weakness: The player attacks in a class/ability that they are not necessarily comfortable or entirely skilled at.
  Long Shot: The player is being an idiot and doing something that would never work unless the die gods are on their sides.
  
  +How Opponent Types and Character Approaches work together+
  BASIC OPPONENT
  Strength Base Roll: 12
  Weakness Base Roll: 14
  Long Shot Base Roll: 16
  
  CHALLENGING OPPONENT
  Strength Base Roll: 14
  Weakness Base Roll: 16
  Long Shot Base Roll: 20
  
  BOSS OPPONENT
  Strength Base Roll: 18
  Weakness Base Roll: 20
  Long Shot Base Roll: 25 (requires stat bonus)
  
  NOTE: In a boss battle, there will be much more discretion for creativity and teamwork between players. Successful rolls will mean successful hits, NOT kills. Furthermore, for boss rolls, because they are much more difficult, the player will get a 'second chance' roll if their first roll is not successful.
  In Step 3, where the GM presents the required roll, it will have the relevant stats already added in and will be presented in a manner to explain the reason the roll is what it is. Stats are applied by level of skill, as portrayed:
  5% = Beginner ----> No Mod
  10% = Applicable ----> No Mod
  20% = Novice ----> +1
  30% = Adept ----> +2
  45% = Advanced ----> +3
  50% = Expert ----> +4
  65% = Sage (Mortal Mastery) ----> + 5
  
  Example:
  Shirin Vs. Challenging Opponent, Strength (Longsword)
  Base Roll: 14
  35% in long sword, +2 Bonus
  14% in valor, +1 Bonus
  14% in strength, +1 Bonus.
  
  14 - 2 - 1 - 1 = 10 Required.
  
  The player will then post a blank post with "Rolling..." posted and then roll a 20 sided dice (D20) on that post. Then the player will post a SECOND post with their response in accordance with how their roll went. They can wrap it up themselves (Step 4), or the GM can add a post in at the end to wrap it up accordingly.
  
  WARNING: If you delete ANY POSTS in these events, I will assume you're trying to cheat and get a better roll. I don't want any explanations, I won't believe a word you say, and I'll roll FOR you with a penalty of 5 added onto the battle. This means, for example, Shirin would need a 15 instead of a 10. If you make a mistake, for example, roll a D6, or roll twice. LEAVE IT. I have eyes. I can see the mistakes.​

[spoili][/spoili]

 

[Chrome]

​

In the ash filled air and the haze of oblivion, carnage unfolded.

Goliath scanned the sky for the other tamers, but he couldn't find them through the light smog that drifted beyond the remants of the first wall. The smoke drifted out from the fortress in all directions, whether it was from Obsidian Nova and Aegnor scorching their enemies or magical; Goliath hadn't the slightest clue. The soldier could barely hear the sounds of battle and the ringing in his ears hadn't stopped. Goliath blocked an arrow reflexively with his shield and while other arrows scattered near his left leg, he used his spear to impale a plagued human that made it passed Hezekiah's defense.

The burning in Hezekiah's mouth subsided as the dragon used his own flame inside his mouth to extinguish the acid blood that coated his teeth. Steam rolled from the gaps between his jagged incisors and the iron dragon smelled the fear that leaked from the enemy as they stood in his path, some non-plagued humans shimmered with sweat and dripped their own excrement. Hezekiah cleared his path with crimson flame, adding more to the smoke that lingered around the second gate.

Screams of agony filled Goliath's ears and the soldier knew that his sense of hearing had returned, he turned his head from the bodies that lumbered ablaze in front of the tamer and Hezekiah. When he turned he saw the Queen in her blood sprayed golden armor saddled on her Xixen, along with Merrik, pushing through Oguals brutes with the Shadows of Ashaar. They tore through the grey skinned brutes with ease and the magi along with the non-plagued humans appeared to be dwindling in numbers. Avren and Viridian had joined and Goliath saw a determined and focused look upon Avren's face, a new face Avren must wear in the days to come.

Goliath's armor had small burns that scarred the leather, only to obscure other markings from previous encounters. Something unsettled him, a lingering feeling that seemed to drift just outside of his mind's line of sight.

<Where are those plagued blood eagles!>, Hezekiah snarled and bashed a large group of brutes with his wing, the bodies broke at the pressure of the strike as they impacted the second wall <Let's take this fight back to the sky!>

That's it, the plagued eagles, Goliath turned and shouted at a group of shadows that had joined them against the brutes and crushing them with their combat prowess, "Prepare for counter-attack! Tell the other Shadows to form up and prepare for an assault from above!", one of them nodded at the command and Goliath ran across toward the middle formation to warn the others through the tangle of strewn corpses. The soldier leaped over smoldering heaps of the magi's acidic blood, his spears rattled in their quiver on his back and his sword shone as it was removed from the sheath.

The warrior-athlete hurdled and sprinted his way passed the straggling foes and ducked under their clumsy attacks as he formed up with Merrik, Queen Valaeria, 'One', and several of her high ranked Shadows.

"Merrik!", Goliath shouted as he entered the formation and joined beside his commander on Merrik's right as they attempted to clear a path to the next gate, keeping their elite fighters at each flank; to allow more dragons through to ram it down. Goliath slashed a brutes throat with his naked blade and bashed the abomination with his shield, "We need to prepare for the counter attack! We need to be ready for when those eagles decide to strike!", his command could only be heard by those close to him, but word would travel quickly to the Queen and other tamers.

As the soldier looked up, he caught a glimpse of Dalaith and Auntyr as the dragon's scales caught the glare of Aegnor's vivid red flame. The light from the sun had faded and the sky blackened behind twisted feathers.

 

[Crimson77]

[fieldbox="To War, seagreen, dashed, 10, Tahoma"] Xylia had been atop Deventh for the longest of time. Time seemed to had slowed down as she stared upon the battle. Her eyes focused on everything she was most worried about; dying. Deventh understood Xylia's fear, this was his first battle too, but as much as he wanted to defend his brothers and sisters, the fear of his tamer made even him reconsider his actions.

"Little one..." Deventh hummed, voice echoing between their minds. Xylia immediately snapped out of her daze of what was to happen and focused on the frustration, sadness, anxiousness, and eagerness in her dragon's voice. She understood what he meant. His brothers and sisters needed him right now, his best offense was his defense. Xylia knew Deventh's intentions and nodded her head.

"For you, Deventh. For you, I will fight with all me' heart and spirit!" She stated, aloud and sat up straight.

"Thank you, Xylia.." Deventh bowed his head before his forehead creased and his focused switched to the battlefield.

Xylia crouched in her seat, as Deventh prepared to take off. "For The Order." she stated, before taking off into the sky. The scene from the skies weren't any much better than below, but at least there was a strategy; assist other dragons. Deventh never agreed with the idea, but somehow, Xylia managed to knock it into his thick skull aftermuch explanation.

They dove from the skies already knowing their mark and joined the battle. Xylia unseathed her twin swords, thin as they may be, they were sharp enough to do the job. Xylia was still not comfortable with the weight of it in her hands, but she's trainined hard enough to play around with its weight. "Deventh! Left!" she cried, as Deventh turned a sharp left, allowing for Xylia to barrage a large sum of their foes to their death. Heart pouding hard against her chest, Deventh released an angry growl before breathing out flames of green upon the mass before immediately turning the other way, protecting Xylia from the rancid black blood as she swung her blades sideways, decapitating some and scathing others.

"Good job, little one," Deventh complimented, as he flew higher into the sky, shaking off the black ooze as he did before it affected him badly. "Can you keep this up?"

"You're not too bad yourself," Xylia took this opportunity to take in better breathes of clear air. The battlefield was rancid and horrible, but this is war after all. "I will. I ave' to." Deventh huffed at the spirit Xylia was putting into the battle and fueled himself on it. "Let's go!" Before diving back into battle. [/fieldbox]

 

[Requiem]

[fieldbox=War... War Never Changes, darkred]Requiem held his dragon back, as he frequently held himself before battle, taking stock of the situation that was before them. Each second he waited, he noted the movements of the enemy, weak points of allies, what was viable and what was necessary. He noticed a large patch of enemies and came to a decision.

"Aleria. Bathe them in your poison." He indicated "And drop me near the edge with the army. We'll have this settled quickly."

The forest dragon gave an affirmation, making a wide sweep over the aforementioned group once, gauging their resistance, before making a second sweep over them, this time expelling a toxic cloud upon them. The effect was slow, but obvious, as they began choking and coughing on the smog filled air.

Satisfied, the pair made their way towards the outskirts of the army where the battle was fiercest, and landed so Requiem could climb down. She knew her role. She was to rain fire down upon the enemy and support their allies while he cut a path of death on the ground, opening the way for more soldiers to make their way through.

Once the pirate's boots touched the ground, he was on the move, his heavy blades hanging at his sides as he ran, prepared to bring them forward as soon as he made contact. He had refused to wear the armour of the order, as the heavy metal was ill suited for him. He wore the leathers that he was accustomed to, knowing that he put his life in his own hands doing so. It afforded him significantly less protection, but far more mobility.

As he neared the front lines of the enemy, he ignited his blades in prismatic fire and began his fire dance, sending waves of flame into the lines of soldiers around him as he cut through the flesh of the ones directly in front of him.[/fieldbox]

 

[Rainjay]

[dash=#800080]Scouting could not have prepared Saira for the carnage that was the Battle for Kuhl. Dimly, she recalled Ylandre, and in the back of her mind she realized that it was child's play compared to the true war that was unfolding before her and the other tamers. The wall had not lasted long against the onslaught from the dragons, and without much delay the battle had begun in full; and it was horrifying.

In the sky above the bits of wall that remained and the bowmen and women of the Sylvian army, Saira and Aerarya could see everything, from the waves of brutes making their way into the fray to the pale mages, their white skin prominently seen even from the air. Already the dragons and the Queen's eerie Shadows were beginning their assault on the plagued near the breach; Aegnor collided into the fray, spitting bright, hot flames everywhere and wrestling with a blood eagle who was curiously alone. Nova's massive form was occasionally visible moving through the sky and along the ground, followed by brief flashes of color, the scales of the other dragons only briefly catching the dim light before fading from view. A visible shock wave crested outwards from where Goliath and Hezekiah fought, the plagued and the human falling to their knees alike.

The pair stayed in the air, at a distance at which they remained safe from the brutes below. Beneath them flowed clouds of Aerarya's silver flame, relentless in who it burned. Saira was more selective with her arrows. Ever conscious of their dwindling number, she took careful aim at the plagued creatures only, picking off one here and one there. Each human she saw, though sparse in the fray, added another weight to her heavy heart.

Not all men can be forgiven for their mistakes, Aerarya said, trying to ease the tamer's discomfort. The redhead's distaste was leeching through their bond, and the silver dragonness slowly found herself feeling guiltier and guiltier over the use of her own flame.

Not all mistakes should ruin a man's life.

The lives of these men have already been ruined, my sky.

Saira grit her teeth, the taste of ash and the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth. She would not admit that there was truth in the dragonness' words. She could not admit it. If I kill a man, she thought, studying the horde below, What does that make me but a killer?

She continued to fire arrows into the masses, her thoughts lost to the noise and destruction. It was impossible to think clearly in the haze of war; not that there was any cause to think. The less she thought about what she was doing, the less horrid guilt she would feel.[/dash]

 

[firejay1]

The two of them had not waited like the olive tamer and forest tamer had, nor did they rush in like the fire tamer did. Following Goliath's powerful mana attack, Agni had flown forward above the parapets at a steady rate beside A'untyr, dodging attacks from below as best she could with her bulk, and slowly Narien used his bonded mana to quietly tire the mages further, though he was doing so cautiously, deliberately poking at those who were in the middle of their fights. He could feel the gross, poisonous feeling building up inside of him just as easily, though, and refused to let Agni waste her version of it just yet. There could be better uses for her abilities later. A number of the tamers were finally joining the fray, and Narien had a choice to make. Stay up on Agni where he might better serve as a guard against the threat lurking above or join them down below. He supposed tactically it was wiser of him to stay above. Just one problem: He was starting to feel genuinely sick from the other-people mana he was taking in. So against his better judgment, he had Agni swoop down low enough for him to slide off quickly before having her jump back into the sky to join Dalaith and A'untyr, to see where she might be more useful. If she caught sight of Obsidian Nova she would rise further to see him fighting the powerful mage. She might not be a fighter, but she was a strong ally to have, even she knew this.

As he landed on the ground, Narien gathered the excess mana in his right hand, the substance a little glowing mist in front of his palm, but far more ominous than that, like the markings that coiled around Agni's skin. He was about to press it into the ground to let it discharge, as he'd been taught, but someone moved and he turned suddenly to face them throwing his only weapon in front of him hard to push the other person away... said weapon being his glowing hand. It was a miracle the assailant hadn't cut him, blade missing his cheek by an inch, but what happened next neither of them expected. The mana trying to escape from his body found a vessel, just a woefully inadequate one, and the plagued soldier's body rejected it. Violently. Its body jerked back as if thrown instead of pushed. A creepy glow lit up the creature's skin from inside before it finally vomited black blood, the disgusting substance also seeping from its nose and eye sockets. On the one hand: gross. On the other, he felt much better now. The feeling was short-lived, as Nar took a couple steps back and whirled around just in time to pull out a knife to block a sword that came swinging at him. Having been flexing his right hand and looking at it speculatively, he had yanked the knife out with his left hand, and was now holding the weapon in both hands, as the sword inched closer to his left side. Damn. He'd pulled out the kitchen knife. It was a bit on the bulky and unwieldy side. With a grunt of effort, he shoved the sword away from him and jumped backwards, all senses on alert for someone behind him as he jumped. The war was a sensory overload. Back in Solona, the worst case scenario was five guys with makeshift weapons ganging up on you in a dark alley. That was not an ideal situation, but at least you didn't have to worry about stabbing an ally when you... didn't have any allies. Here it was all noise. Roars of effort, screams of pain, metal on metal, blah blah blah. It was very... distracting. He thought that just as the man took another swing at him. Annoyed, he dodged the swing and, without even really thinking about it, slammed the kitchen knife point first into the man's skull. As he yanked out the blade, he noticed that the blood was red. The fighter had been a normal person. First blood he'd spilled with his own hand tonight and it was that of a real person. And here you were worried you'd forgotten how to kill people, after having coddled them for so long...

Murderer.

Agni thought she had seen and felt and heard it all from Narien. Not of the world perhaps, but she at least knew her tamer by now. This, though, upset her. She could feel not just his memories of emotions, but what he actually felt. She felt what he felt and right now he felt........ Deeply unsettled, Agni continued to fly, keeping an eye on the eagles in the distance.

Narien was finding his rhythm. He'd earned himself a couple cuts, but they were luckily not too deep, and his senses had grown accustomed to the pace of the war. The swords were inconvenient for the reach of his blades, but that was no more than he had expected. He tried to end each fight quickly. Get in close, stab if you could, run if you couldn't. He grappled with one man for a second, knife cutting into the corner of his palm and the other man's wrist as he twisted the sword away from him. The distance hadn't been convenient to knee the other guy in the stomach, but luckily someone had thought to take a go at Narien, and he had twisted them both in time for the soldier to go crashing into his buddy, giving Narien the chance to jump away. The man tried to chase him, but was caught up in another fight, and as he passed one plagued man fighting off a member of the Shadows, Narien hooked his foot around the monster's ankle and gave a spectacular kick to send the man's leg away from the ground. As he fell right into the Shadows member, Narien snagged a piece off of him. A nice shiny, pretty dagger. It was longer than most of his other knives, almost the same length as the one he had given Sairantha, but much prettier. Excellent... Narien stashed it where the old one had been as he continued to run. Someone grabbed his wrist, and a lion made of ghostly flame lunged between them. Not truly a threat, goodness knew a number of these were impervious to the magic flame they produced, but enough to startle the little bastard - giving Narien the opportunity to send his shiny new dagger into the man's neck, before slicing it sidewards with both hands to half-decapitate the fool. He didn't use his mana much in the fighting, saving it for when push came to shove, but not for a second did he feel he had wasted his time practicing control over it.

 

[Soulserenity20]

COMBAT EVENT

@Kraken
Nemrielye

It wasn't long after Nemrielye's feet met the ground that a low rumble sounded from somewhere in the distance. Despite the chaos that surrounded her, the movement, the sounds, the distractions, she became acutely aware of something approaching from a nearby alley. Mere moments would pass before she came to see exactly what had drawn her attention and it would quickly lead her to regret stepping foot on the ground.

Two massive Marsh Hounds, a breed of dire hounds native to the Drowning Marshes and regions of norther Calidar, barreled through the narrow passage between the old buildings and shot out into the open. Atop their backs were grey-skinned commanders, adorned in the blood-red armor they wore so often. The hounds were massive, black in color, with long, whip-like tails. Their eyes glowed a shade of blue that matched their riders' eyes and as they circled around the young woman, one lifted its head and let out a deep, horrid howl. A split second later, the assault began as one of the pair leaped forward, snapping its jaws at the lass.

It wouldn't take her long to realize she would struggle to face the pair alone. Perhaps an ally would come to her aid after hearing the eerie howl ringing out into the air.

Plagued Marsh Hounds
[spoili]

[/spoili]

​

 

[Rainjay]

"Oh, wow, would you look at that Mirazh?" The young tamer looked down at the assembled armies below in wonder, watching as they came to a halt, line by line, at Merrik's signal. The army reverberated with Nova's guttural roars and the call of war horns. Their approach was no secret; it was a ceremony, though more severe than pompous, despite the Queen's beautiful mount and armor. Ahead lay the city of Kuhl, dark and grim, and nothing like the drawings in the books that had passed through her hands before. "I may not be the greatest of artists, but I so wish I could capture this moment on canvas."

The tan dragon grunted in response, declining to respond. Before long, the great wall would be knocked down--a pity that it had to go--and battle would begin. The thought crossed his mind to be worried for his tamer. Since joining the Order she had yet to gain any real ability to defend herself, and running could only bring one so far. He would be restricted in his own ability to help his siblings in the fight due to the necessity of defending Illyria not only from Ogual's army, but herself and her daring nature. The battle would be rather boring for them; but he reminded himself of how important his other half was to him. How critical it was that she stay safe.

And so, he stayed back from the barrage on the wall with the newer tamer-dragon pairs. Their role in the battle was simple: fire from air, remove the wounded... stay out of dodge. Altogether, he found himself greatly jealous of Hezekiah and Nova, an unusual emotion whose impact was made greater by Illyria's conflicted feelings. Sitting steadily atop his back, she ogled at the sight before her while her muscles tensed, relaxed, and stiffened again. For a girl who had never witnessed death, he wondered how she would take the realities of war. He hoped he would not lose her spirit.

Are you ready, Ria? he asked her. Their formation in the sky was breaking up as the attack began; with the wall having fallen, Nova, Aegnor, and Hezekiah all moved rather quickly to join the fray, Aegnor jumping in carelessly without the same apparent concern for Nimrieyle that Mirazh held for Illyria and the others attacking with more caution. After Illyria responded with a thought-not-spoken yes, the pair quickly followed Deventh and Aleria down towards battle, fire streaking behind them in their wake.

They passed over the initial combat, the ominously beautiful Shadows slipping into the field and beginning to cut down the plagued creatures like thin paper. Over there, she saw Requiem, who could have been a professional dancer for the way he fought, surrounded by an exquisite display of fire. And there she spotted Narien, a whirlwind of motion that left the dead in his wake. As the pair flew close overhead the fighting, Mirazh laying thick flames over a small collection of brutes, Illyria could see the dead and injured on the ground, clearly, for the first time. Some, like the ones surrounding Narien, did not have visible injuries, and simply lay on the ground, still. Others lay in pools of crimson, glinting as it caught the light of fire, holding their insides together or snarling as they, plagued and mindless, lay helpless on the ground, too wounded to continue on. Her eyes were glued to these figures as they passed, her stomach rolling not in fear, but with a crude mixture of sick excitement, morbid curiosity and awe. She had never seen her comrades kill before. But now she saw them at perhaps not even their deadliest. It was nothing like how she had thought it would be, but everything like she had envisioned war as a young child; brilliant in the most savage, raw manner possible, but brilliant none the less.

Ria? Will you be alright? Mirazh asked, nosing around in his tamer's mind in such a way that she could almost feel his presence searching about. She promptly began to push him from her mind--one thing she had been taught before the procession to Kuhl--and rubbed her fingers in the spaces between his sandy scales.

"Don't worry about me!" she called, projecting her voice as to be heard over the cacophony and the wind. "Keep going! Lay waste with your fire and I will look out for the injured and the others."

Even though they had been bonded for such a brief time, Mirazh knew that the tamer's sudden aloofness was nothing if not a cause for worry. But there was no time for discussion, and knew that she wanted none. Perhaps the spoken word stole from the nature of war, reminded her of her humanity. And he wouldn't, couldn't, take the solace she had found in the face of violence away from her. Not when the Order needed every dragon-tamer pair to reclaim the ancient city. And so, he silenced himself, and continued into the fight.

 

[Soulserenity20]

[dash=white]

The day bore on and the fighting continued relentlessly into darkening hours before the command was given for the primary forces to pull back and make way for the secondary defenses. The collective army had come to an agreement that they would be required to use a primary and secondary force to fight offensively in the day and defensively at night, respectively. Because Ogual's forces were made up almost entirely of the Fallen, those whose bodies felt not the wear of pain and fatigue, the Illosian army was faced with combatting a foe that could, and did, fight endlessly throughout the day and night. Their tactic would be advancement by day and holding by night. If they let their progress fall to the tireless foes, there would be no hope for victory. And yet, the endless battle was wearing on the human armies. Without reprieve, the soldiers wore down quickly, the captains even more so.

Obsidian Nova had sustained numerous injuries beyond the scalding wound from the burning fluids of the mage. He had taken considerable damage from a powerful mana attack that had caught him off guard. While battling the particularly difficult mage, he had been ambushed by 3 others on another roof top. Before he could realize what was happening, the three had unleashed a combined attack of blue mana at him and formed a large wound on his right flank and thigh. It had almost been enough to ground him but his anger had fuelled his attack. He defeated three of the four, with the last slipping away, before returning to Merrik's side. He fought for several hours longer, keeping his mind from the searing pain in his side, until the call for replacements was issued. The tamers would pull back and see to the establishment of the secondary forces before retreating back to the camps.

Merrik had cauterized Nova's wound in battle, but when they had settled into the camp, he set to work on giving the healing process a sharp boost. It was all he could offer of himself, for his mana had no partition for healing in this war. As the strongest mage, he bore the responsibility of producing a drastic response to any drastic scenarios that befell them. His duty was to Illos in this war. And so, Avren was summoned to work on sealing and healing the worst of the wounds. When the bleeding had stopped and the pain declined to a dull, throbbing ache, Nova had sent Avren away, refusing to consume any more of his precious healing mana. At this the man was sorely disappointed. He had been devoutly set on healing the elder drake, perhaps to distract him from what had happened on the battle field earlier than day, but what man could deny a dragon his will?

When the darkness of the night fell thick about the land and skies, Nova took to the air. With the injuries to his feet and side, walking as painful. Each step sent a sharp pain through his muscles and along his burning sores. His scales were greatly damaged on his flank. They would grow back, but at present they looked a sad sight, dulled and damaged, missing entirely in some places. In the skies, the pain of movement was lessened and so the elder drake took great care in performing his duty. With the help of Viridian, one who could cloak himself in a coat of black, Nova took to the air to set fire to the burn channels on either side of the rift they Illosian army had opened up in the fallen city. With the fall of night, Nova was completely invisible to all but the other dragons. Cloaked in black, Viridian was all but invisible himself. The pair would soar about the reclaimed territory unseen and keep constant fires burning along ground, forming walls of fire to prevent ambush from the sides as the secondary forces worked tirelessly through the night to defend what the primary forces had worked so hard to claim in the day.

At midnight, Merrik would venture with them and manipulate the fire away from the central corridor to prevent any risk of it consuming the warriors in the streets below. Come morning, the primary forces mounted once more and set to pushing farther and farther into the city. Over the next few days, the mages fighting for the dark lord had all but disappeared entirely. This was unsettling and paired with the scouting Blood Eagles and their pale riders, Merrik felt an ominous fate forthcoming. It wasn't until the fifth day that the army reached the second wall and prepared to down it for entry. This time, there would be no unorderly assault from a rogue dragon driven by temper, or at least Merrik hoped. This time, they would not allow the enemy the opportunity to prepare their attack as the wall slowly crumbled before them. This time, the dragons would do their part to ravage the enemy with all their fiery intensity before the enemy had the chance to attack with their full force. Merrik had planned on sending Illyria and Mirazh in with Saira and Aerarya to create a massive sandstorm to buffet and disgruntle their enemies. By inflicting damage in the form of an unexpected attack, they would maintain the element of surprise while they worked at breaking down the wall. Goliath, Narien, Requiem, an Nemrielye would join Merrik in a second wave of attack after the initial storms had been implemented to add their unique mana-based attacks and fiery streams of ruination down onto the enemies that lay in wait.

However, when the time came that the army stood waiting for their plan to commence, Merrik and the other tamers who had flown up over the wall to catch sight of their targets were hit with an unsettling surprise. There was no one there.

"This makes no sense…" Merrik growled to himself. "Where are they?" It reminded him all to well of their cloaked approach at the war in Ylandre, but as he sent powerful waves of black fire down onto the ground, there was no resistance. There were no foes. Merrik choked back his annoyance and shot balls of fire out at nearby rooftops, wondering if they had taken their battle there, but once more, they were met with no resistance. What was most unsettling of all was the fact that just a few hours before, they had been there. Saira and Aerarya had flown over the walls just a few hours prior and confirmed the presence of a massive stand of the black skinned creatures with their deep, glowing blue eyes. How could they have dispersed so quickly? Why? And to where?

Nova curved from the air and descended to the ground upon Merrik's desire and as the elder Tetra slid off Nova's good side, he strode to where Valaeria and Norvik stood.

"There isn't anyone on the other side. No doubt it's a trap, but this is not the work of a cloaking spell. Have you any knowledge to share on the matter?" He was looking to Norvik then who had paled to a ghostly white. Nodding, he waved his commander over and quietly commanded him before sending him away. The commander summoned a large portion of the available army and quickly began tracing their way back along their reclaimed corridor. The king swallowed then and turned to Merrik and Valaeria.

"I have been very foolish indeed. I thought it impossible they would ever gain access. The old tunnels of King Kuhltan have powerful magicks tied to their entrances. I has never been seen a possibility in the history of our people for an enemy to enter the sacred corridors but I… I fear this is the only explanation."

Valaeria stared at Norvik with a venomous anger storming in her vibrant eyes. Her hand curled into a fist as she struggled to maintain her composure. "You… how…" The Queen was at a loss. She struggled to understand how a leader of the lands could be so ignorant, so stupid. Noticing her growing rage, Norvik stammered, seeking the words that might extinguish her anger.

"Valaeria, you must understand I-" his words were silenced with a loud crack as the Queen's curled fist connected with his nose.

"Idiot!" She shouted. "You ignorant fool! To ruin your nation with your childish behaviour is an offense of its own right but you have dared to threaten the lives of my elite! My own forces offered in good will! My men who have come in numbers far succeeding your own to fight a war you were to weak to win at first strike! You would have them vulnerable to ambush whilst holding your tongue? You are not fit to lead this army, or this country." She opened her mouth to yell some more but snapped it shut and turned from him, breathing heavily for a time. Norvik stood silently, a cloth to his face to soak up the blood that poured from his nose. After a moment, it seemed the Queen had regained her composure. Turning back to the pair, she spoke calmly but with a fierce tone that demanded absolute compliance.

"Where are the entrances."

~~~~

​

Within the hour the troops had been repositioned and the assault plan reformulated. Norvik pointed them to the direction of each of the 3 nearby tunnel entrances, one of which his own men had immediately moved to. The second, one of two that were placed conveniently behind the army, was assigned to Valaeria's forces. The third entrance was on the other side of the wall. It had come to a general agreement that the sound of the wall breaking was likely the trigger for the ambush from underground. Had they proceeded with only slightly less care, they would have been surrounded on both ends by the Fallen. Instead, Merrik and the other flew over the wall with Valaeria and a handful of her Shadows to where the third entrance lie. It was in an old storehouse, one that looked modest enough from the outside but whose interior revealed thick, reinforced walls and an old, worn down armory. The crest of Sylvis adorned the inside of the doors, marking it as property of the king. With the help of Zolykar's perfect hearing, they confirmed the presence of a mass of life forms moving about the tunnels in the depths of the city. The tunnels were massive. Large enough for the dragons, and certainly large enough for thousands of Ogual's men.

Their new plan consisted of two teams: above and below ground. Since Norvik had assured them the tunnels were treacherous and maze-like, Merrik had decided on very specific tamers to accompany him into their depths. Zolykar bore elite senses that would help them predict any oncoming attacks. Mirazh was small and intelligent, capable of remembering and decoding the maze-like structure below. Merrik wished for nothing more than to have Dalaith and A'untyr with them, but Dalaith had since declined into a greater state of illness, one that worried Merrik for her life. He bore no right to drag her into the depths of the city. Requiem was recruited for his light-footing and Aleria's mocking-bird ability would serve as a powerful distraction and decoy. Agni would be the last to join them with her tamer for her Mana stealing abilities were second only to Goliath and Hezekiah's blocking abilities. Goliath, Merrik had decided, was most needed above ground, near the entrance to the city at the first wall where the tunnel would no doubt produce a flow of foes seeking to corner and slaughter the Illosian army. And so, Aegnor, Hezekiah, Aerarya, Deventh, and Viridian were to remain above ground and divide themselves up between the two entry points to defend against the ambush. The others were preparing to enter the tunnels with Merrik and the Queen to try and wipe out the forces from behind as they poured out into the reclaimed regions of the city. As the group slipped down into the depths of the tunnels, Aegnor and Hezekiah would fall the mighty wall and begin the next stage of the battle.

[/dash]

 

[Chrome]

​

"I thought I felt something happen to you yesterday Hez, We should get Avren to mend that wound before we split forces", Goliath pointed to the dragon's bloodied right arm, "How did that happen?", he questioned with concern in his heart. The tamer had known that Hezekiah was fine because he could still feel the dragon during the first days of the siege, if something significant had happened the bond between them would have forced Goliath to his friend's side.

The dragon averted his gaze from Nimrielye, and then looked at Goliath, <I'm fine, just a scratch>, Hezekiah huffed air from his nostrils and the flames of torches reflected off his iron scales as the army prepared to go underground. He hurt slightly from the wound but he had simply decided to use his other side when he and Aegnor would tear down the next wall. <No need to get Avren's help, people are already heading underground>, the beast said stubbornly, <I bet they would need the healing more down in the maze>.

"Alright", Goliath shook his head, his helmet covered his facial expression,"Have it your way Hez, but next time I think you should get healed... you better listen to me"

Hezekiah replied quickly with a sly remark, <Or what?>, the two had a standoff and stared at each other intently before the dragon relaxed his stance and grinned, <Shall we get back to the battle?>

Goliath let out a small chuckle, he bowed and gestured at the next wall, "After you", he drew his sword and nodded in Nimrielye's direction in attempt to let her and Aegnor know that Hezekiah was ready to take down the wall.

In the meantime before Hez and Aegnor assaulted the wall, Goliath commanded the remaining allied forces in a large scale sheild-wall formation with some men wielding spears and using shields gathered from the scattered corpses from either side of the battle. Some of the men and women looked battle hardened with only a couple people who shook from the shock of what had happened over the days of the siege. These troops had watched their allies fall in front of them and at their sides, it wasn't surprising at all to Goliath, but he needed the morale to be strong if he and the other tamers on the surface hoped to defend the rear flank of the army going underground and continue their assault on the surface.

When the forces were in formation, Goliath ran behind them and shouted encouragement as he commanded them to assemble tighter, "Protect the spear-men at your side! You are his shield! The archers and the spear-men will remain protected as long as you hold the wall! YOU ARE THE WALL THAT STOPS THE FLOOD!"

"FOR ILLOS!!"

Now, Goliath messaged Hezekiah through their bond.

 

[White]

Her odd eyes looked up to the skies as the vanguard, the tamer choosen for the attack rised to the dormant skies. She watched how the shadows, the queen's elite were the first to breach and soon the second line would, too.
She stared blankly at Hezekiah as he roared, too far away to be affected, yet close enough to feel the strength vibrating from him and his tamer.
"He looks glorious, doen't he?" She asked her other half, laying a hand on the dragon's side.

"Should we not join them, white one?" Celeste was anxious to join her brethren, not desiring to see one of them fall.

"Not yet. We are needed to help the wounded and to ensure none of those newly infected will rise to oppose us." Her head turning to look around herself, then continueing to answer privately "And giving courage to those around us that lack it does no harm."

"Will we be the only ones to sit idly?" Celeste hissed, as she watched the other tamer fight the battle.

"Be patient, Celeste. Our time will come." Reverie attempted to reassure her white companion whom only got more uneasy.

Reverie sighed as she sat atop the white dragoness. " Your scales are thin, you are agile, in numbers, I would think that we would be part of a unit to harass and retreat a hostile army, but you still remain vulnerable my dear companion. We won't ever be able to avoid a confrontation disadvantage to us, but we should play to our strength and rely on our company to make up for our weaknesses, such as we should make up for theirs. Look, they are rash, the first in battle, but whom is to fight when they need to rest? Our commander and Goliath are trained soldiers. Requim might also endure to fight for an extended time. The others should rest. Sure we could cycle but this still leaves some vulnerability as some will need to fight and others defend. We basically lose the current number of available tamer ready for combat as of the moment. Look at what we see. Can we truly say that this battle is swiftly won?"

Her lips curved to a playful smirk as her eyes turned to the sun. "Let's protect our brethren when they can't protect themself. And the time is now, we will fight till those that need rest have rested, if none need rest now, we will fight longer until the first went to rest and then we continue our duty until everybody found their rest. The heavens shall shatter and open the patch for the Illosian people to have a future!"

And together they took off, as Celeste projected a light to illuminate even the darkest of shadows. A ray of light of hopes and dreams. Of wishes and courage. Of a future and a past. All colours united for one purpose, the one undivided people's goal for victory here.

Crushing and swiftly they came down upon the cursed, mages fell to arrows and warriors fell to fire. The flames of war raged in the white of a dragon's flames, swift to dodge and swift to strike and always retreating when the situation could only become too dangerous in the slightest.

Dusk turned to night and against her own efforts to stay and fight, she could no longer. Too exhausted and too weakened by the pace that the two of them kept up in their ambushes, this was but the one foe she could not overcome and turned to rest.

Cometh dawn, she noticed Dalaith in the medical camp. Lightly Reverie put a hand on her shoulder, infusing it with the slightest of purification in hopes it would help. "Get well soon. The world still needs your intellect." A small smile forming on Reverie's lips, yet uncertain if Dalaith could hear her as she seemed to still be asleep. She used her soothing on wounded troops to help them through difficult surgeries and helped to pick out those infected to prevent harm. Like a mother figure she wandered through this same camp helping where she could, before returning to battle and every evening she would return to bid the wounded a good night, walking from one to another.

On the fifth day new orders were issued and after a short cut visit at the medical camp she found herself with her commander infront of a storehouse. It was issued that enemies are moving from bellow, readying to ambush the Illosian forces. Reverie and Celeste had prefered to remain above the ground, the tunnels underground make her scales more visible and as they are less thich, morevulnerable but at the same time, they could repeat the projection of light as they had done before to lighten the tunnels, to bring the light of hope where darkness would threaten to consume them.

 

[Crimson77]

[fieldbox="Two's Company - One's..., seagreen, dashed, 10, Tahoma"] Xylia frowned as she stared at her beat up reflection. Deventh could not help but sigh at the thought of her stubborn, yet obvious show of false courage and conviction. None the less, the swamp dragon remained silent, though his thoughts did inevitably pushed through to her. She snapped her head at her dragon, growling sharply at his gaze. "If I knew our hours of training never bore you of me' looks, I would ave' stuck with you even when we slept."

Deventh sighed, attempting to ignore the anger pulsing through the both of them. They were both exhausted, but according to the rumors, things seemed to have gotten worse. The anger slowly died down as Deventh kept his knowing gaze on her. They were too much alike for her to outsmart him. Xylia released a shaky breath and stared back at her reflection. "I did not sign up for this..." she mumbled. The war had been bringing back all her memories of, not only how much she missed Nepa Village, but also past memories, of ones she refused to recall; ones that were as dark as the blood of her enemies.

"You did not, that may be true... However, you are here." Deventh stated, "And the only options you have are to fight or flee. You do have the choice, little one." he reassured her. Deventh understood that Xylia did not have enough mental preparation for the war, which was dangerous. "You do not have to go back out there."

Xylia's shock towards her dragon's words turned to anger as she stalked towards him, "And risk The Order and innocent people to fend for me' cowardice? No. I will not ave' anyone else dying while I am still able. No way! Over my gillweeding dead body!"

"Then, you will tell me you will fight and not fear the blood on your hands, or your possible fate that is to come!" Deventh raised his voice slightly back. "That you will choose to carry on, with full spirit, energy, and strength to see that this bitter, bloody world becomes better or worse whether you be in it or not?"

Xylia paused, realising the words from her dragon's snout were more than just negative. They were also reality. Her reality. A reality she had chosen in order to see to it that her Mama and the children in her village will see a safer Illos. With that Xylia sighed in defeat. "I'm just- I'm scared, Deventh... Forgive me for this, I- I was not expecting to reach this point so soon and see so much red, black and gloom. I was physically prepared for the war but not for the sight of war."

Deventh didn't even bat and eye at the sight of his tamer's anger but he did relax at the sound of her defeat. He knew that if he were in her position, he would have left or done something completely irrational that was worse than mere words and actions of anger. "It is alright, Xylia. Forgive me as well, for my outburst. I did not mean you wrong. You have every right to be scared, and trust me when I say, nothing will be able to come in your way. Over my dead body." He huffed, "We may not be able to protect everyone, but we must try."

Xylia nodded her head, "I am in this war to defeat it, I will not let me' cowardice get the better of me. I s'pose I simply needed a good talking to to snap me head in the right direction." she grinned sheepishly at her dragon.

Not long after, Xylia heard talk of a new plan in action. She separated from Deventh and was informed of the new defense. The fear sunk back in. War. Death. Seperation. Xylia grew slightly more weary at the thought of just the war but stayed strong, no matter. However, these were orders and she would comply. However, it did not help that Deventh too feared the outcome of this event with little to no words except false reassurance and battle preparatio.[/fieldbox]

 

[Soulserenity20]

[dash=grey]

The rumbling crash of the wall giving in to the strength of the dragons filled the air and faded. The sound of quiet clutter lingered for some time as dust and debris settled. Moments later, the breakers claimed the air and soared quickly to the locations. The tamers that had been assigned to the above ground defense had two points to hold. They had divided themselves up, with Goliath, Saira, and Nimrielye taking a place at the ambush point closest to the first wall, and the Avren, Reverie, and Xylia moving to the one beyond the second wall. Merrik and the others had already disappeared into the darkness of the King's Tunnels and for a moment, all was silent in the city, save the quiet, chilling call of the darkened blood eagles in the distance. Avren was sitting atop Viridian's back, quietly weaving his fingers through the tendrils of plant-like hairs on the drake's nape. He was focusing his mana capabilities on drawing thick tree roots from a nearby garden square to where the ambush site was. The old, thick roots wove through the earth, pressing through the soil, guided carefully by the tamer. He glanced to the side a few times, but largely maintained a trained look upon the building that housed the exit tunnel.

"Almost here..." he mumbled to himself, feeling the roots drawing closer and closer. The plan was to use the roots to create a grid-lock across the entryway, allowing him to control how many foes could get through. He hoped this would allow the tamers and their portion of Norvik and Valaeria's armies to battle more effectively. At his side, he saw Xylia, the wood-lass, preparing herself for battle, and somehow he felt comfort. Even having Reverie nearby was soothing for some reason. Perhaps it was her ability, or perhaps it was familiarity in a time on uncertainty. He wouldn't have the time to finish his thoughts for a second later, a horrid roar echoed across the streets and a horde of the Fallen rushed out of the door before them.

Across the city, Goliath, Saira, Nimrielye, and their comrades would face their own wave of assault. They, like the others, were met with a wall of black as the behemoth warriors pushed out, weapons flying through the air. The battle began and at first seemed like a standard fight, the sort they had grown used to: an absence of pain and fatigue in their foes, the difficulty of seeing their own kind fighting alongside, and the dangers of the mages and commanders. However, what soon emerged would take the battle to a different level. From deep inside the dark entries, wisps of a deep purple, plasma-like substance curved through the air. They moved much like snakes, slithering through the air without a care for gravity. They were rather large, around 6-10 feet long and 2-4 feet tall and round. It was difficult to explain their shape, for they were like clouds, or ink in water. Largely opaque, they seemed to move directly past the Fallen and approached the tamers and their comrades. Several of the soldiers recoiled in fear, but others were bold enough to try and attack and at both sites, the soldiers would contact the wisps, only to suffer a violent, horrifying death.

Upon contact with the purple wisps, the soldiers were encased in a watery veil of deep purple and black. It suffocated them immediately, leaving them gasping for air and struggling to maintain their composure. Then, it surged forth and forced itself into their mouths and down their throats. Their skin would ripple with a blackness, their eyes would ooze with the dark purple substance and as they scream, convulsing and thrashing about, they would scream out the names of their enemies, those seated in the darkest regions of their mind. They seem afraid, angry, and insane in their last moments, collapsing only after they clawed and gnawed aggressively at anyone nearby, as if seeing a foe in any figure near them. The warriors at the first wall faced nearly ten of the massive wisps while the warriors near the second faced almost as many, with 8 weaving through the air in search of their next target.

-------------------​

Meanwhile, deep below the ground, in the King's Tunnels, Merrik and the others pushed forward. The tunnels were large, but just barely big enough for Nova, who held his wings tightly against his body and ducked his head to move on. Pushing on through the darkness, with only the small light of dancing sparks produced by Merrik and the other tamers, they came to their first crossroads. Valaeria cursed under her breath. She had recommended Norvik stay as far away from her as possible until this portion of the battle was over, which meant he had been left above ground. She had made a foolish decision in her anger and silently, she scolded herself for it. Luckily, Merrik had a system and Zolykar used his impressive hearing to guide them forward. It wasn't until some time later when the worst possible scenario came about and a loud explosion deafened the Amethyst dragon. When the explosion blew, the walls began to crack and a cave-in seemed inevitable. The falling rocks forced the party to push through, separating them from the larger portion of their army and pushing them off track. Without Zolykar's hearing, they had no means of knowing which turns to take. When they came to a halt at last, Merrik requested a bright flame from Aislin and as they looked around, they realized they were in trouble.

All about the walls were dark, ancient runes, carved into the stone. As they looked at the markings that surrounded them, a pale, orange glow emitted from them and within moments, they lit the room without the aid of Aislin's flame. Seconds later, tall, human-like figures began to step out from the runes, as if their bodies, bent and distorted, had been the runes themselves. One by one, they peeled off from the wall and immediately the army could tell they were entering battle.

Merrik drew his sword with a swift motion and summoned a tendril of darkness, collecting it in a long whip-like shape. One of the tall figures - they stood nearly 10 feet - lunged at him and as it did, he felt an overwhelming heat. "Watch for burns!" He shouted briefly, passing the information on to his tamers without a second thought. As he dove out of the way, summoned a tendril of water from the damp tunnels and infused it with his dark mana, sending it forward, wrapping it around the flaming man-of-the-rune. The water had no effect. Cursing under his breath, he realized it must be a mana-based heat, as such, water would have no power. On the bright side, his tendril remained wrapped, and so the beings were tangible - a start.

As the being attacked once more, it struck out with long, eerie limbs that grasped for Merrik as if to steal him away into a realm of darkness. They had no distinguishing features like eyes or noses, but they have a clearly humanoid shape, with two legs and arms, long and thin, long, grasping fingers, and a head of sorts. They moved in a way that unsettled Merrik, gaining so much ground with each long stride that they seemed to simply warp around the room. He brought his sword down on the creature and it connected but did little more than put a slight bend in the creature's arm. With nearly 8 of the creatures having pulled away from the walls, it was clear they needed to find a way to defeat them, and quick.[/dash]

 

[Rainjay]

[dash=#800080]It would not have been war without such unexpected consequences as this. Hearing the news as it passed from tamer to dragon to tamer again, Saira initially wanted to feel as angered and frustrated as Valaeria was, her irritation still painfully evident from where she stood near the army's front. But she understood Norvik made a mistake. He was human after all, as were they, and it was almost to be expected--just as their failure to anticipate such intelligence in their opponent was. There was no time to be upset about a mistake that had already been made.

Fortunately, when the dragons and their tamers were divided up among the three tunnel entrances, the pair were given a role above ground. The atmosphere dragon was more than a little claustrophobic; on hearing Merrik's instructions the dragonness visibly perked up, as though she had forgotten the past five days of wear and ache, and hurried to join their companions in moving to their designated tunnel.

Saira was less excited. As with the beginnings of the battle at Ylandere, and the surprise Ogual had given them after their initial attack on the wall, she anticipated something terrible was about to happen. Would Ogual simply attack through the tunnels, planning an ambush? Perhaps. But with each day's shocking development came a greater, even worse bombshell. Their opponent knew how to shock them, and was excellent at the execution. And despite the certainty with which Saira held these thoughts, she neglected to approach Merrik or the others about them, because she had no solid standing on her belief. Besides, what were they to do about it? How could one prepare themselves against the unknown?

The thought plagued her as she, Goliath, and Nim waited with their dragons at the tunnel's entrance, eyes fixed upon the opening as her stomach rolled with anxiety.
[/dash]

[dash=#800080]It wasn't very long into the initial wave of battle that their challenge for the day emerged from the tunnel's depths. A new foe it seemed, these snakelike amaranthine wisps that flowed outwards and, without a care for it's comrades quickly approached the waiting men and women before it. Bravely and with vigor, Saira watched as handfuls of soldiers ran to face this new foe with determination, only to be swallowed up by the waves of purple and black, screaming and writhing as they died. It was horrifying. But there was evidently little that could be done. Friends of the soldiers afflicted grasped onto their shoulders, trying to pull them away from the wisps, only to be attacked. It was as though the wisp-entities had grabbed onto not only the bodies but the minds of these men, making them wildly retaliate, slashing at any man who stood nearby.

It drives them insane, Aerarya said in awe. We must avoid them.

No, the tamer replied firmly. It is our job to defend these people. Watching those people die in such obvious agony was heart wrenching. Get closer. We have to tell people to stay away!

This is suicide, Saira. The dragon tried to argue, but the tamer had none of it. She directed Aerarya around several of the wisps who swam through the air and down towards the soldiers below. There, the dragonness set Saira down on the ground near to where one of the wispy snakes was attacking, though it had to do little more than move to afflict the men close by. Go to Goliath, Hezekiah. Perhaps their mana blocking might help, if these creatures are made of such. With the way they move, they just might be--if that's even possible. A being made of mana.

The dragonness kneaded the ground anxiously with her front two legs, reaching down to nuzzle the tamer with the very tip of her nose. I don't want to leave you here, though. What if one gets you?

I'll be alright, Saira replied, forcing a smile before stepping away from the dragon. Now hurry!

She began to weave her way through the crowd, sidestepping small groupings of men and women who struggled against the brutes and clambering over the fallen. One hand twitched, reaching up to grasp at her ankle; but she shook it off and hurried forward. There was nothing she could do for them, not now. From two small sheathes at her sides she pulled the two knives she had come into possession, grasping them tightly as she pushed onwards.[/dash]

 

[White]

Monsters, like clouds and snakes, slithered out of the tunnels, Reveries eyes in horror as she watched soldier grow insane and almost as if infected by a different kind of infection, attacked their fellow soldiers. Her eyes could not leave those she met though, those she had spoken to, some of which that were wounded and now back on the line.
She felt, as if something was trying to crack her heart, to break it, to split that steel of freedom away. Of all the things she had seen in Otamur, this was far more cruel, far more vicious and for a moment, it felt as if time itself had stopped for her. She needs to save them. Save, those childrens of Illos. It repeated in her mind, over and over and over again in that one moment of silence, of time having come to an end.
It was maddening and no steeling that she has done and once as forced to do could help her.

Her eyes closed, the silence now filled with mad screaming, with the clash of swords. She could sense these abominations... Like a trauma to the natural flow of the world and air, the flow she and the others were trained to see on the field for sports, when they splashed each other with balls of water...

A giggle left Reveries lips as a single conclusion came to her.

She sat down, eyes closed as Celeste circled protectively infront and around of her, keeping threats at bay as much as possible and with all of might that Reverie could muster, she let out a soothness over the area, like a mother touch to her children, a gentle kiss on the forehead to calm everybody down, simply to prevent panic among their own lines. The least they needed was masses of troops panicking and possibly deserting or going rogue.
She proceeded to feel into the air, the trauma, the spaceless area that was closest to her and ripped all warmth violently away from it and its direct surrounding.
Opening her eyes, the abomination, the trauma that Celeste had a lot of trouble keeping at bay, now encased in ice, Celeste smashed it, wholy as bits an pieces of it could now be found on the ground.

Her eyes seeked Avrens, her legs feeling numb. This would be all the fighting she could do against them. She felt exhausted, but still maintained the soothing area as much and effectively as possible. Internally she cursed that she did not put more practise into this aspect of mana. Without Celeste she would be naught but a simple target for these creatures.

 

[Soulserenity20]

[Dash=grey]

Days. She had lost days the last time she passed out. She knew this only by the shape of the moon as it passed quietly through the dark sky, a glowing reminder of who she was and what she was fighting for. The moon gave her strength, but Ogual didn't know that. Even miles from where her beloved Ataegana was - wherever she was - Terria still held on to the powerful connection between them. She couldn't feel Taega anymore, no distance had taken that from her, but she could feel the life in her soulmate and so long as her dragon lived, she would survive. She had to.

She moaned softly as she began to move her limbs, trying to gather her thoughts, orient herself in this... this body that now felt so foreign. Her dark eyes fell to her shackled wrists. Bony, bloodied appendages that had once been her greatest weapon, attached to once strong and limber arms, now weak and withered to husks of skin and bone. Deep scars and fresh wounds covered almost every inch of her. Each one called forth a memory that burned her like hot iron and as she struggled to push them back into the depths of her mind, she felt her mind weaken. She had been pushing the memories back for weeks now. But there were so many. Each time the dark lord walked into her prison, he pushed her to her breaking point with pain and suffering, driving searing bars up the length of her arm bones, slicing open the flesh between her fingers, dislocating bones with mana and then jarring them back into place with force. Every day she longed to give in, to break down and give up everything, to give up her secrets... to give up her life. But each night, the moon passed by and she found she could not give in.

Each night, the light of the moon filled her with hope and energy, if only a little at a time. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her going. She healed herself bit by bit, focusing on the worst injuries, knitting the wounds until they would at least stop bleeding. Twice he had almost killed her, bled her 'til almost dry. But he had mana, powerful mana, that he used to bring her back, force the blood back into her veins. Of course, this brought with it terrible sickness, a pain that seethed in her veins as her body struggled to cope with the dirty blood. She would die in here if she didn't get out soon.

The moon had given her hope, and soon, it would give her a chance to escape. The full moon was drawing nearer and she felt her strength returning a little more each night. When the phase finally hit her, as the silvery orb entered into the small window at the top of the dungeon, she prepared herself for her escape.

For the last week, she had been storing up her mana. She had forgone her nightly healing and allowed herself to suffer so that when the moment came, she could break free. Ogual had gone, and with the amount of damage he had done to her this time, he likely wouldn't be back for several days. He had no healing mana. What he used in place of it was horrible, like the manner by which he forced her blood back into her veins when she bled out. He often gave her time to heal in between the torturing sessions she endured. After all, what good was she to him dead?

Her wrists were coated with blood that had pooled down around the shackles she wore. The dark, sticky substance had little effect on her at this point, save for driving the numbness inside of her to a deeper state. She began preparing hours before the moon hit the high sky. Rubbing her wrists together to trigger fresh bleeding from her recent wounds - blood was the only lubricant available to her right now and she needed lubrication for what she was about to do. Just as the moon began to peak, and its soothing energy began to rush into her, she took a deep breath and clenched her jaw as she positioned her left hand between her legs at an ugly angle. Huffing out shallow breaths to encourage her adrenaline to flow, she closed her eyes and snapped her hand back with a loud CRACK, breaking the bones in her hand on the edge of the shackle. The pain seared violently through her body, but no tears came, they had dried up weeks age. She moved quickly and slid the mangle, broken hand from the cuff, forcing it through the metal loop. With the blood coating her hand, it went more easily than she thought, but the sight of the mangled limb sickened her. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily now, trying to cry as quietly as possible. "Come on Terria. Come on. One more!" She whispered desperately to herself.

Positioning her other hand, she felt panic begin to well within her in anticipation for the pain. Before it could get a hold on her, she quickly snapped the other hand, letting out a loud cry this time. The pain was worse in this hand and as her hand hung limply, she struggled to use her other broken hand to slip it from the cuffs. As the metal clanged onto the floor, she collapsed from her standing position, trying her hardest not to black out. She called to the strength of her Mother Moon and began to push her healing mana into her hands, knitting bone and weaving shut wounds that now bled heavily. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually her hands began to look.... normal again. Still slender and weak from being severely malnourished, and covered in horrid, deep scars, they seemed to be more.... hers, without the thick shackle resting around them.

She took some time to collect herself and knit some of her more serious wounds. Her left leg had been broken in two places last week and she had expended much mana trying to repair the bone to a state that she could live with until she made her escape, but as she lifted herself to her feet and tried to walk around, she realized she had not done a good enough job repairing it, for she could not walk with any ease. Crying, she fell to the ground and began working on repairing the bone once more. With each moment she wasted, she feared for the Dark Lord's return. It must have been nearly two hours before she left the room through the sole, wooden door. She had to disable a ward to do so, but luckily, it was no more than a basic deterrent spell, likely made more for keeping henchmen out than keeping her in. Ogual had no clue she was bonded to a lunar dragon. As far as he knew, she couldn't have accessed mana this far from her soulmate. But for Terria, she of the Moonlight, her connection was much stronger than most. Her bond was born of the moon and by the moon it thrived.

Stepping out into the dark hallway, she began the daunting task of finding a way out.
[/dash]

 

[Mowkie]

[BCOLOR=transparent]

[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]It had been a long and especially gruelling five days, and even with the small bits of rest between the pair, they were both beyond exhausted by the time the fifth day came to be. Even before the battle of Kuhl, Pomona found herself battling..and that was just for her right to fight alongside the warriors within the Order as well as the soldiers on the front lines. After all, fighting was all Pomona had known for the past ten years, and she wasn't going to just give that up. Fighting, after all, was what allowed her mind to go blank and her body to go into its most natural state of being. Having duelled Merrik before they had left the Garden to prove to him that, though she had not been there long, she was more than capable enough to fight with the others, Pomona stood upon the ground when they first broke through the first wall...and every day since. She was happy to be there, fighting for the right of Illos to exist without the insanity and cruel rule of the monster, Ogual, but her body did not take so kindly to all of the damage it had taken.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]She was not used to the weight of so much armor, and she moved more slowly than she had grown so accustomed to. While she still refused the weight of a shield, her longsword was quite capable in her hands, and to a certain degree, it still danced like a ribbon through the endless sea of foes. She had targeted the mages, in particular, having discovered that magic was, by far, the most dangerous tool on the battlefield. While hers was not the greatest, she had practiced with Katla in the use of her Bonded Ability, Diamond Skin. The minor scrapes managed to simply bounce off of her. But the larger hits penetrated almost too easily. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Katla, who had demanded alongside Merrik to stay right by Pomona's side from the very beginning, once more showed her overprotective nature. Like a tank, she would barrel through small hoardes of foes, using screeches and violet flames to keep them as far away from her tamer as possible. This reckless behavior came at a cost, and even by the first night, she showed to have several small wounds between her thick, diamond-like scales. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]They discovered on the second day the acidic blood of the mages as Pomona swung her sword at one's neck, letting a shower of blood spew from the stump that had just a moment ago held a head. Luckily enough for Pomona, only her left arm and shoulder had been touched, and she quickly threw off the shoulder plate and unhooked the ringmail sleeve from the rest of the piece just as the blood had bitten through to sting at her skin. Unfortunately for Katla, the brunt of the blood sizzled through a small patch of scales beneath her right wing, leaving her delicate, white skin completely exposed to the open air without any protection, whatsoever.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]That night, their wounds were well cared for by Avren, but the bite of the acid would leave them severely damaged. Pomona's skin all along her left arm bubbled up with various blisters, and some would burst and bleed profusely as her skin tried desperately to heal. Katla's hide also bubbled up with blisters, and some of the flesh had been eaten away, making flight almost impossible for her without excruciating pain.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Still, they fought...two days went by like this. Every day, they fought, side by side. Katla would take a great deal of the damage aimed at her tamer, and Pomona would be blocked from showing her truest of talents on the battlefield. They knew then that the mages could not be taken down quite so easily. For fear that she would do more damage to herself and her dragon, Pomona did her best to keep the sword swinging to a minimum when handling them, instead preferring to use the hot flame of her dragoness to virtually melt them. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Pomona found herself truly growing to respect Goliath, the great warrior she was happy to fight beside. He was a natural leader, and the men took kindly to him. While she had not gotten to know him well during their few weeks at the Garden, she was happy to know him as a comrade on the ground, truly the most worthy of the Noble Dragon. She only hoped they would both come out of this to grow more acquainted with each other.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]By the last night, she finally confronted Katla on her overbearing protectiveness. The dragoness had sustained so much damage that she was having difficulty breathing, and her blisters had burst once more beneath her wing, this time with infection. Avren had grown frustrated with the lack of care the dragoness seemed to have displayed, and Viridian scolded her for being so reckless, despite the fact that he very well knew that this was simply a trait of the daring Amethyst. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Katla, you need to realize that every time you go to guard me, you risk my blade hitting you instead of the enemy. Believe it or not, I can take a hit from time to time!" This was said as Avren bandaged up her left arm for the dozenth time or so to keep the damage from the acid burns from getting any worse.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The dragoness rolled her eyes and gave a huff of disapproval, which ended in a wince as she hissed and looked back at her side, which was riddled with cuts, burns, and broken scales...not to mention the deepening gash beneath her wing. With another breath, her thoughts turned back to her tamer, and her words flowed gently to the woman, like honey in hot tea. ~Mona, you know why I am the way I am...I cannot help that I wish to guard you as I do. You are my greatest treasure, and I will not lose you.~[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"But I can take care of myself...at least a little more than you are allowing. I understand your protectiveness, and to a certain degree, I greatly appreciate it. But look at Goliath and Hezekiah...do you see the Noble Dragon guarding his tamer so ferociously?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]~No, but -~[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Do you see Goliath dying without his dragon right in front of him to take the brunt of the damage?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]~No, but-~[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Then give me space, Katla! I cannot fight properly if I am treated like a lumbering idiot on the battlefield!"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Avren, seemingly very uncomfortable by the anger displayed by the new tamer, finished his work and excused himself to tend to other tamers. Katla gave another huff and sulked quietly for a few moments, her eyes glowing with irritation and a small bit of hurt pride over her tamer's stinging words. Pomona turned away for a little while, moving her arm back and forth to ease it into its new bandage. It stung and burned like it had been doing for the past three days, and she couldn't imagine all that her dragoness was going through...still, she was so angry. Why couldn't Katla understand that all she wanted was to fight and take back what was hers?[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Because that wasn't all that Pomona wanted, and Katla knew that. She had wanted peace...she wanted to finally put her family to rest so that she could move on...so that she could love again. In order to do just that, Pomona needed to stop being so reckless, herself, and accept her dragon's protection. At the same time, Katla needed to relax, if only just a little.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]After a few hours of silence, the pair finally apologized to each other and fell into an unsettled sleep. The next day would be the hardest they had faced yet. Having found out about the tunnels, Merrik asked Katla to use her extra-sensitive hearing to detect whether or not there was movement in the tunnels beneath them. To her shock and everyone's irritation - even outright anger - there was. Immediately, they went into action. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Katla was the group's greatest asset in the tunnels below. Her extremely sensitive hearing helped guide them closer to the enemy in hopes of stopping it. None would have imagined anything going as wrong as the explosion above that sent a wave of extreme noise over the entire group. The Amethyst screamed in agony, her head going into the ground as she tried desperately to cover her head and ears. As the dust settled, and the group found themselves staring at strange runes on the walls, Katla was completely immobilized by her pain, and she would be for the foreseeable future.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Meanwhile, Pomona found her heart racing, her breathing erratic as she fought back a panic attack. Her dragon's thoughts were filled with agony, and she was nowhere near the skies. She felt the walls closing in on her, and sweat poured from her forehead. She was not one for going underground, and she wished she had mentioned that before agreeing to follow her dragon down here. How did Katla do it?![/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Before she could continue to panic, the runes moved off the walls, and Pomona found herself battling a strange and increasingly frightening creature. It moved strangely, and its limbs were long. It glowed like the heat of a blade being made by a blacksmith, and tiny flames danced from its somewhat humanoid form. Was her mind playing tricks on her, or was this thing really standing in front of her. Before she knew it, it had grabbed her right arm, the heat almost instantly searing through the metal of her mail and digging into her arm. She gave out a cry and kicked the creature, sending it backwards, the force making its hand let go to keep from pulling her atop it. She lifted her blade, wincing at the pain, attempting desperately to keep from looking at the walls and ceiling.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]She swung at it as it stood back up, but her blade just bounced off, leaving a tiny dent in its side. Her eyes widened. "Merrik, I haven't learned much magic yet…" She was starting to panic again. If her sword didn't work, her mind certainly wouldn't, either. It seemed that, for this moment in time, she was doomed.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]

[/BCOLOR]

 

[Soulserenity20]

AISLIN COMBAT

Aislin Vs. Challenging Opponent, Long Shot (Bow)

Base Roll: 20
40% Archery (Adept) +3
[ 20 - 3 = 17 ]

Required Success Roll: 17 or higher.​

 

[Silver]

AISLIN COMBAT

Aislin Vs. Challenging Opponent, Long Shot (Bow)

Base Roll: 20
40% Archery (Adept) +3
[ 20 - 3 = 17 ]

Required Success Roll: 17 or higher.​

Aislin gasped as the monster slid away from the wall. Yumiru growled, mane fluffing up in an intimidation tactic as she slid herself between her tamer and the threat. Now that the tunnels were lit up sufficiently, she let the sparkling flame she'd been holding aloft die down before she scrambled to pull out her bow, falling into a familiar habit at the face of an enemy.

Merriks water didn't work. Yumiru warned as she held still, posturing in front of Aislin but not wanting to let out a burst of fire with the close quarters.

"Got it." Aislin replied as she finally pulled her bow out, notched an arrow and spun around Yumiru's leg to take aim and let loose at one of the monsters. Letting out a shrill whistle as she tried to increase the trajectory of her arrow with a touch of air mana, hoping it'd hit a bit harder.

 

[Chrome]

​

The shield wall held throughout the initial barrage of brutes that flooded toward their position, but once the floating mysterious purple abominations arrived, the front lines broke into fragments of desperate men and women fighting for their lives. Goliath witnessed first hand the atrocities that befell the men and woman brave enough to attempt to strike them head on, only to be met with a long death of suffocation and liquefying from the inside. The soldier had moved forward reflexively to help a group of warriors who had failed their attacks on one of the wisps, but realized as he drew closer that he needed to focus on regaining control over the battle field and the troops; before focusing his attention on the new threat.

Hez I need cover fire! You need to give our troops time to regroup and organize! Try to create a wall of flame between us and the purple creatures when I give the order!, Goliath urged his companion. The soldier needed time, time that seemed to dart and dance around him as the chaos of the battlefield consumed the lives of many brave men and women from across Illos.

<Got it>, Hez replied with confidence as he flattened a group of brutes with his jagged heavy tail of iron. Hezekiah lifted off the ground and once in the sky he focused his attention on Goliath's location and flew to attack from the right flank of the battle line. <In position>, the iron dragon messaged his tamer as he readied for the command to cover fire.

"FALL BACK AND REGROUP!", Goliath yelled loud and pulled a soldier back as Goliath attempted to consolidate the forces on the surface, "FALL BACK AND REGROUP, RETREAT AND FORM A NEW FRONT-LINE!!!", he commanded and he heard a horn player give signal to fall back, Goliath was grateful for the person who heard him and used that horn to help them overcome this seemingly impossible challenge. Other horns began to sound and the majority of the soldiers began to fall back, then Goliath nodded his head, Rain on them Hez.

Hezekiah inhaled and descended down upon the enemy line that crossed over into their defenses and scorched the ground with vivid crimson flame. <Hot enough for ya?>, Hezekiah smirked and scoured the ground, he breathed flame continuously to buy Goliath and the troops more time to regroup and launch a counter assault. When the purple wisps came into contact with Hezekiah's flame, steam emitted from the opaque shimmering liquid, however the dragon didn't manage to ignite one of the wisps directly because he focused much more on separating the forces with his crimson assault.

As the soldiers and warriors made a new formation, Goliath looked back and ahead at the crimson carnage. Just passed the flame he saw one of the purple wisps on the other side and at more than one hundred yards, Goliath chose his target and drew a throwing spear from the quiver on his back. The quiver had gotten lighter as the battle ensued, but each day Goliath managed to salvage one or make a new one hastily during the breaks. In the time given him, he drew the power of his bonded mana and focused on bleeding his anti-mana and coating the head of the throwing spear with it, if he was lucky it would injure the creature, if he wasn't so lucky he would need to come up with something else. Drawing upon the mana he and his dragon had was much easier after the trial at Kona Petl, and on the fifth day Goliath was relieved that he could draw upon his bonded ability under so much continuous stress.

As he had practiced many times in the meadow, Goliath entered a simple stride and steadied his attention on the target wisp, the stride turned into a sprint with technical prowess, and at the peak of his momentous stride he twirled the spear shaft with his palm and sent the spear flying from over his shoulder so hard that he felt his back twinge from the force under the blade of his right shoulder. When the spear left his grasp, Goliath held on to the anti-mana coating he had placed on his spear and watched intently as the spear crossed over the fiery wall at his designated target.

 

[Soulserenity20]

Happy 1000 posts everyone!​