The Scrolls of Gelbaron: The Forsaken Saga OoC and Sign Ups Terrubane. It was the pinnacle of human civilization. Originally the home of refugees of the mighty empire that reigned under Conuence's banners, it has now become the beacon of everything that is advancing. It was the capital of the technological revolution, with a few inventors realizing that steam, or to a few individuals mana crystals, could be used as a driving force for things that would ease their way of life. The young capital had everything going for it; a few buildings that were more than a couple of storeys high and had mechanical gizmos that allowed people to choose which storey that they wanted to go to, methods of transportation that was at the same pace as a horse and many more that are coming out. While it was only the rich that were able to run the technology, it certainly was a sight to behold for every living being that walks through its gates. Even a few people from the rival capital, Conuence, watched in wonder at the marvel, while being fearful that these new inventions could mean that the world of magic was about to collapse. For many scholars, however, magic will have many more years before the contraptions would rival the basis of civilization. However, all of that wonder was brought crashing down when the army of an unknown man, going only by the name of Lord Sacremento. Men from the town of Chaldon had long dwelled on the thought of Terrubane being reduced to rubble, so when this man had rallied them under his name and determination to do what they had wanted to do, they were more than happy to oblige. In return for this service, the lord had struck a pact with the nightmarish creatures that lived in the neighbouring mountains to rally under him and swore an oath that they will no longer plague the city with death. Werepyres. Whoever had thought about the unnatural union of two children of the night, vampires and lycanthropes, had accomplished their wish. They had produced monsters that stood over 7 feet tall on average, their bipedal canine's muscles growing so much that they could, theoretically, rip trees out of the ground and throw them to speeds of a runaway train. What also gave these beasts a ghastly sight was the leathery, bat-like wings that expanded at least twice their own length so not only could they spread terror on the ground, but from the sky. With this army, Terrubane was reduced to a shell of what it was. Soldiers, warriors of the nearby villages, even the mercenaries that had been hired from as far away as Galbeez & Silvæa were being swept aside by this massive force. Weeks went by and all of the city had been turned to ruins, rubble lying on the ground. However, those that had survived the initial attack had started to drive them back. Magisters from Silvæa and Conuence were brought in, as well as people who were able to use ranged weapons, to aid those that had still survived and drive Sacremento's army back. While it had been a lot of hard work and a lot of strategic planning, but this ad-hoc army had managed to drive them back and, with any luck on their side, this day to be the last fight of the Destruction of Terrubane. ---- (Source) On the outskirts of Terrubane, a sight of broken bodies was scattered. Many had been left to rot. For the living, however, the struggle carries on. Soldiers fighting for the city began to charge. Their swords, spears and any usable weapon lunging out in front of them. There was only one line of the enemy left, but they were consisting of nothing but the fearsome beasts of the night; Werepyres. Most of their villainous human counterparts retreated from the sudden surge of their enemies. These large beasts, however, were something to be feared. Each werepyre needs at least 10 men to kill them. Still, the humans charged, using every last bit of strength and morale to push this army of darkness away from their beloved city. For what seemed like an eternity, they finally clashed, both man and beast raining down their deadly attacks. One man was ripped into two. Another was brought down by gashes in the legs. Magisters and marksmen formed deadly hails of bullets, arrows and magic. For the few minutes, it seemed that the men of the ruined city were on the verge of winning. However, the beasts started to fight back, their deadly claws and vicious fangs finally having a footing in the battlefield. Things went from bad to worse in minutes. There was still a glimmer of hope. Out there in the battlefield, one man had managed to cut himself through two of the monsters. He kept the morale high for those who were left. While there were still commanders out there, they were few and far in between. He decided to take up the reins of keeping everyone together. The man was hardened with years of experience. His ash blond hair, completely caked in the blood of man and beast, flowed as he moved through the battlefield. His armour had been cut and battered, but it was still holding together. His sabatons were drenched in the bloodied soil. All the meanwhile, his hardened, scarred, hawk-like face scoured the battle. His deep blue eyes picked out his targets and keeping check on the line that they had created. He made sure that no enemy breached the line, protecting the marksmen and magisters. One werepyre charged towards him. Its claws outstretched and ready to cut the man down and start its rampage. For the young mercenary, however, his weapon was poised. Despite the rain and dark clouds above, his claymore shone out into the darkness. Its icy-blue edge acted as a beacon of hope for everyone around him. The aura that came off the blade reflected off the gold hilt. The beast cut the distance between them and was on the warrior. In one swift move, the man pirouetted around the beast. He cleaved its arm in an up stroke. He whipped the blade back down again, the wicked edge slicing through the werepyre's back. It was instantly crippled. He left the beast for others to finish it off. Someone shouted for him. “Auroreon!” Pinpointing where it came from, the mercenary moved through the people, trying to get to the source of the call. “Auroreon!” Tried as he might, his progress through the thick of battle was slow. People and the sludge slowing him down. He realized that the line was faltering elsewhere. The beasts started to whittle the numbers down in the area. The dead and the dying were numerous in this area, mostly from his side. Finally, he reached the person that was calling his name. “Auroreon!” the man started, his voice heavy with fatigue. “We can't hold this line! Their attacks are too strong and are almost through to reach the magisters and marksmen!” Auroreon could only watch as a werepyre came. It lifted the man high into the air. Its claws dug into their sides. With a show of brute strength, the beast tore the man in half. The werepyre threw the two halves in either direction. Before the beast began to attack the mercenary, a bullet ripped through the beast's shoulder. It was followed by the crashing might of 5 fireballs into the beast's chest. It sent the beast flying through the air and into a standing standard bearer. The spearhead of the standard stabbing through its chest. Without another moment to waste, Auroreon stabbed Silver Moon into the ground. “Men! If you value your independence, cometo me!” he roared. His voice boomed through the battlefield for the ears of the people that sill have energy to come to his call.