The End of a World [IC]

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Razorin was pondering.
It wasn't normal for him to think too deeply into something; he certainly could, but delving too deeply into thought always put one in danger. Especially these days. Nonetheless, he had taken shelter inside a cave, blocking it off with a giant rock for as peaceful a night's sleep as he could manage, and on waking up to a few cracks of light slipping around the stone he couldn't help but take advantage of the moment of solitude to think a little bit.

He had stopped counting the months since his people were destroyed. He had stopped thinking about them almost entirely. Instead, he had spent years trying to think of everyone else that he possibly could, every nation great and small that was to be ravaged by the same beasts. What he had been trying to bring forth was hopeless now, it seemed; no nations were truly left, if you didn't count the larger refugee camps protected by various gods. Speaking of which, he could retreat into the caves guarded by Luna, provided he could find them. He could, but he wasn't going to. He didn't belong cooped up in a cave, cowering in fear of the enemy.

It didn't matter to him how many or how tough they were. He wanted to tear apart every dark one he found with his bare hands; it motivated him to think that each one destroyed would be another person that one wouldn't kill, one less than an overwhelming group, enabling the unknown benefactor to just barely survive, and defeat all that he met, saving another for each. It was a somewhat foolish notion: The dark ones' numbers were immeasurable, for just counting one for each person they had consumed would be more than double the amount of survivors.

It was a dream he was chasing, just like the last one and the one before that, and he would see it through until it failed, or something better came along. That was all he knew how to do, really. But as he pondered, he thought on rumors he had heard from the few people he had met in the past few months. They told of a man in white who seemed to know the weaknesses of the dark ones, who wanted to gather not just a few people or the faithful followers of one particular god, but everyone--every survivor--to one place. It sounded good, but at the same time, it sounded like a trap to Razorin's war-trained logic. He would have to meet the man, and know just how he planned to prevent the destruction of his glorious new, unfinished city at the hands of millions of enemies that seemed built for just such a raid.

Razorin shook his head. That was about all there was to it; he would keep up his present work and see what came about. Right now, his work was to remove the boulder and confront whatever enemies had likely sniffed him out overnight. He made sure to pull the stone, rather than push it and allow himself into the line of sight for anything directly outside, and when there was enough room for him he ran outside, smacking three or four bodies out of his way without even seeing them before turning around and looking.

There were at least ten, all formerly humans, elves or something similar. They had elongated fingers and toes, the extra inches mostly composed of near-metallic claws, and their eyes were a near-rainbow of colors, their glow visible even in the sunlight. They had been waiting at the entrance, as he thought, all clumped together, and now some were circling, trying to surround him.

Razorin backed up, forcing the circle to move with him, and then suddenly ran forward, grabbing one by the neck and smashing it into another; both seemed merely stunned by the gesture and he had to turn around to bat three or four other attackers away, leaving several scratches across his arm; the toughness of his skin kept them shallow but his arm was going to be sore for awhile. He punched another in the top of its head before it could get close enough to bite his leg, and kicked away another on the opposite side.

The werewolf exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and listening. Just looking ahead would do no good now, they were on all sides and behind him. They were just walking around him now, their first attack done; the next would be in a few more seconds, by his count, and he took the opportunity to shift to his more bestial form, then waited. They would attack whenever they thought he wasn't ready...

((OOC Here))
Summer yawned and got to her feet, she brushed the dirt from her dress and started walking. She had slept outside under a tree perhaps not the safest option but she'd had not other choice, and besides she prefered it. It ensured she wouldn't be cornered. Up ahead she heard noises and went to investigate, hiding in a tree she saw a werewolf engaged in battle against the dark. He didn't look like he needed it but she ran down to help anyway as she had an immense hatred for their kind. She emerged from the trees and shot an icicle from her hands that pierced ones heart, she stepped beside him and and offered a smile. "hi there" she said cheerfully as she roundhouse kicked another face.
This wasn't her first night out alone. That had been simply dreadful. Amanda was getting better at finding places to hide, though she only slept a few hours at a time before moving and finding a new place. The constant moving was needed for her nervous system didn't seem to allow her to stay put for very long in the wilderness. The wilderness was unknown, and unsafe.

The early hours of the morning found her once more carefully moving from her half hidden nook within the branches of a few trees and on the prowl in the woods for food and any sign of civilization. As she ventured forth she heard the sounds she could not quite comprehend. She then realized it was fighting.

Amanda was tempted to flee from the spot to somewhere safer, away from fighting, away from the darkness. She then took herself to task for such thoughts. People might need her help, and she knew she could help!

Silently she came to find the fighting. There were many of them, and two were fighting. There was a werewolf, who looked like a fighter to the tip of his tail, and a blonde female. Something about her suggest she wasn't human however. Carefully Amanda chose her targets, two that were next to each other and at the moment the furthest away from the fighters. Knowing there was a chance once she did this she would be discovered by the dark ones herself, she took a breath before she weaved her spell. The two were knocked further away by a large gush of air, and then each saw the other as something more alive then they, in fact they saw themselves as the prey their fellows were attacking.

What happen next made Amanda want to throw up as they tore into each other, the oozing blackness falling out of the illusion she had set up. She looked back at the fighting, how many were left?
[BG="#990000"][DASH="#EE0000"] Flower Child ~ S e p h o r a

Even with her eyes closed, Sephora could hear the sounds of battle. Her eyebrows came together in a frown as she tried to imagine who it might be. Survivors fighting survivors...or survivors fighting the dark ones? She was too curious to sit still. In a flutter of greenery, the flower child emerged from behind the bushes where she had taken shelter upon the sounds of conflict. A single glance in the direction told her all she needed to know. As far as she was concerned, there was need of her help.Her orange hair swayed as she moved with purpose, reaching to draw an arrow from the pouch slung across her back and string her bow. She fell onto one knee, took aim and shot two arrows in quick succession, taking down two of the opponents.

She strung the fourth arrow and resting her elbow on her knee, pulled it farther than needed for the distance at which her target was. Her lips tugged upwards into a smirk as she let go of the arrow, watching as it shot through the air, ripping through the first target and into the second one.

She grinned at her little feat of accomplishment and strung another arrow, aiming carefully. There were three people in the cave already. From where she was, Sephora could not properly identify their species, but they all seemed to fighting together. Different species fighting together? The idea seemed foreign to her, but uncertainly exciting.
The werewolf was impressed at just how many people happened to be around the exit to his cave shelter just now. The other two unknown allies were outside the circle, which was itself smaller than before; two of the creatures had torn each other apart and eventually disappeared, and another two were pinned down by arrows, too close to their centers for their less-viscuous "skins" to dodge around, and another similarly pinned (though temporarily) by the mage's icicle. They weren't dead, but they could be beaten down one at a time or escaped easily once the others were dealt with.

"Keep your back to mine, mage," said Razorin gruffly, making an effort to do the same. "Eyes're no good otherwise." (As always, it was hard to make speech sound anything but gruff through a muzzle.) He made a swift step forward, kicking a dark one straight under its "chin" and sending it flying backward into a tree, and then stepped back. He blocked an attacker on his right and another on his left, allowing each to bite an arm and then swinging them into each other. They did not let go, and he kept bashing them against each other again and again until they faded into nothing, one of them dropping an arrow that had been buried inside of it. The wounds on his arms were shallow, and would heal quickly enough.

The one he'd kicked away was still away; they didn't flee so it was after one of the other two--and another, less wounded one had joined it, by his count. The circle was very small now, just three surrounding him and the mage. While making these calculations, Razorin swiftly bent over and picked up the arrow, preparing to either throw it or use it like a dagger.

((A note: they are outside of the entrance to the cave, in case it wasn't clear. And this makes the actual total equal to 3 pinned+4 destroyed+2 after Amanda and Sephora + 3 left in the circle = 12))
Summer smiled at the knowledge that there were other survivors here, "you got it" she replied. She sent a large blast of water at a beasts head and froze the outer layer causing it to drown. She was caught off guard as a beast suddenly grabbed her around the throat from behind choking her. Fighting for breath her hands morphed into that of a tigers, with her massive paws she hit it on the head before slicing his throat with her claws, it fell to the ground dead. She took a death breath and felt her neck she was bleeding where the beast nails had pierced her skin, it was a deep cut but she wasn't worried she would deal with it when the battle was won.
The odds amazingly were starting to go in their favor. Amanda found herself unable to appreate that at the moment however. Two were still able to bring about the death of many. Though with the odd assortment that seemed to have gathered to fight them, perhaps not today.

Making a rotating motion with her hand, she gave one of the shadow people a miniature cyclone. While not large, the speed it flew at the thing was similar to a well strung arrow, and the spinning could bore into a rock. While these things of nightmares were tough, they were not granite tough. The cyclone ripped through the center of her target with a wet tearing sound heard beyond the howl of the wind.

Amanda brought the cyclone back around like a boomerange with a hooking motion and as it started to collapse she sent it through again causing another hole in it before the cyclone returned to her like a puppy circling around her.