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Author Topic: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)  (Read 23148 times)

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #20 on: January 14, 2014, 12:45:20 PM »
Golden eyes narrow at each other as Coward's form shimmers and disappears. Sembas's arrow hits it's mark, but Coward is no longer in range of the Leash. Anlaf screams from above, alerting the falconer that the shadow master is directly behind him.

(Dexterity - Dodge) Sembas deftly attempts to dive away from the dagger threatening his back. The classic backstab, he could expect no less from one named Coward. If successful, he tucks and rolls upon hitting the ground, springing back to his feet facing Navar.

Deciding that a bright, open area would serve to his advantage, Sembas runs to one as best he can. As he sprints he brings forth his Lightning Hawk spell. A bolt of lightning arcs out of the sky and electrifies Anlaf as he soars above. A smaller bolt arcs down and connects with Sembas's ready spear tip. He flourishes his spear, the diamonds sparkling as the electricity dances along the tip.

The falconer is on the defensive, with three sets of eyes watching Coward's every move.
« Last Edit: January 15, 2014, 06:06:06 PM by Kitharsis »

Offline Archdemon Stu

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #21 on: January 15, 2014, 03:03:24 AM »
As Fjorin hears the battle rage nearby, it becomes increasingly difficult to sit still and think things through, and he is hardly a gambling man.  Clenching his fists tightly around the blade General Fury had bestowed upon him, Fjorin approaches the childer named Catujel.  There is determination in his eyes, and a fiery glint tells that the Forsaken will not like what the massive warrior has to say.

"You were attacked." Fjorin's words seemed to chill the air as he sliced his own cheek with the blade, leaving a sizable cut.  He continued, his intent still unclear.  "You valiantly fought the Ageless, leaving what scars you could." Blood dripped down his jaw.  "However... you were outnumbered..."  He raised his blade above his head, and his voice turned to a low growl.  "...and wounded."

(STRENGTH - DAMAGE)

Fjorin's blade turns into a red streak as he brings it down once more upon the Forsaken, intent on destroying his sword arm - whether by severance or crushing wound mattered little.  In the heat of battle, they could not afford to trust this man, and with Siron's heart in sway, the party would be easy to betray; yet, if he returned to Fortuna unharmed when the Ageless made their escape, he would surely face the brunt of her wrath.  If he was truly immortal, such a wound was hardly as grim as it would have been in their former lives, and it may well allow for everyone's safety.

"Let us move."

Offline Radobe

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #22 on: January 15, 2014, 04:09:25 AM »
Fjorin's attack startles the knight, but he does not move against his companion. Still confused and shaken, Siron only looks at the events unfolding in front of him.

“Siron! Call off your companion!... Get out while you can!”

The youngest of the entrimas wanted to believe his brother, but each time he heard his voice images came flooding back in. His father lying in blood drenched sheets, Gustav’s laughter ringing in the knight’s ears. Rage boiled up as he looked at his brother’s face.

"You were attacked."…

Siron moves in closer to Fjorin and grabs the edge of his blade as he begins to cut himself, not taking his eyes off Catujel in the process. “I saw what happened here,” the knight’s voice is quiet, but the rage in it can still be felt. “That torcher room and the body,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “I will not believe a single word you say Catujel, but I will give you a chance. Go back through the way we came, go outside and find the whole we came through. Surrender to our comrades there. Until your innocence is proven you will be our prisoner. If your words hold through than you will do this. Leave now or remain and die.” Siron let’s go of Fjorin’s sword and firmly grips the handle of his mace.
An eye for two, a tooth for a jaw, a hair for a head! Fight to be respected!

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #23 on: January 16, 2014, 12:24:30 AM »
Sig only has a split second to react to his own attack being turned against him. He knows that he will not have time to dodge, and his lute is too bulky to try and get in there for a parry in time. Looks like it's going to be up to the All-father.

Sig shifts all of his weight downward. His feet sink into the ground as he anchors himself. He pushes back on the momentum of his attack with all of his might (Constitution-Fortitude of the All-Father) and forces his weapon back under his control. Sweat pours from his brow as he focuses every muscle into stopping the attack. The axe blade moves slower and slower until it is barely moving towards him. The blade gently makes contact with his chest where it pushes against the metal links underneath his coat. And then the momentum is gone and his axe is his again. Sig flashes a grin at Ravana while sending a silent prayer of thanks to Alviss for providing his strength.

He swings the axe back into a ready position. Attacking her head on is asking for trouble if she can just reflect all of his attacks. A diversion is needed. Sig notices a large tree just behind his target and he makes his decision. Winding up, he hurls the axe as hard as he can. It purposely misses Ravana and passes to her left. The axe thuds heavily into the tree behind her, and Sig quickly pulls the chain that connects the axe to his right wrist taught.

With a brutal two-handed tug, Sig uproots the tree (Strength-Damage [IMPROVISED FIGHTING]). It quickly falls in the direction that it is being pulled, which sends it fstraight towards Ravana..

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #24 on: January 21, 2014, 01:46:16 PM »
@Aeliana:

Two bolts of energy curve around Punisher and hurtle towards Fortuna. Fortuna’s features are affected by unbridled fury and she instinctively thrusts her hand upwards. Aeliana, being sensitive to magic, can feel something so powerful it is almost palpable.

There is a slight shimmer in front of Fortuna, as the energy is cast back in the direction it came. It slams into Punisher full force, and the recently redeemed Forsaken is violently knocked backward. He collapses upon the ground in a heap. His eyes are open but his movements are sluggish as he attempts to pull himself from the ground. It is obvious that Aeliana’s spell has rendered him at least partially paralyzed, yet despite this, he uses all of his Willpower to drag himself to his knees.

Fortuna raises her arms above her head and there is a sound of splintering wood beneath your feet. The entire floor begins to shake, so much so that Fjorin and Siron can feel it down the hall. Large, wooden roots begin to force their way through the floorboards. They quickly wrap around Punisher’s chest and haul him back to the ground before seizing you around the ankles, rooting you to the spot.

You quickly realize these roots pose a distinct threat. They grow tighter around you and begin reaching upward, wrapping around your thighs and stretching out for your torso. Even worse are the wicked, barbed thorns that begin to erupt from the vines and dig into your flesh.

“I am done toying with you, pathetic girl,” spits Fortuna. “And as for you, Azazel, I will ensure that your death is a long, painful, experience that will cause you to beg for death! I will-”

Fortuna’s tirade is interrupted by an earsplitting sound behind you, toward the front door Punisher had so desperately tried to carry you towards. Wood explodes outward and you glimpse a large blur barreling towards Fortuna. The sorceress has no time to react before the hurtling mass slams into her chest, knocking her several yards backward.

Dust and debris clear, and you can clearly see a familiar form. You’ve met her once or twice before, during the few times Dethys Night came to call upon you. She had been very vocal regarding her annoyance at playing babysitter to the High Mage of Avalon, but you could tell that while grim and fierce, Captain Adia Blood had both a good heart, yet was certainly not one to be crossed.

“Hello, Fortuna,” her voice is low and intimidating.

Blood slams her broadsword towards Fortuna’s chest, but the sorceress deftly rolls to the side to avoid it. Fortuna’s hand touches the ground as she mutters several words under her breath, and moments later, a wall of fire separates her from Blood.

Punisher begins to pull at the vines that bind him, his eyes occasionally darting towards you in worry. The longer the vines are upon you, the more ravenously they dig into your legs. Punisher roars and gives a final tug to the vines around him. He manages to tear through them and drags himself over to you. Blood gushes from his hands, which have been torn to ribbons by the thorns of the vines. He reaches towards his boot and extracts a large hunting knife, which he uses to free you.


@Sembas:

   Sembas deftly manages to dodge away from Coward’s sneak attack. He rolls upon the ground and springs back to his feet to face Coward. Lightning illuminates Anlaf and arcs towards Sembas’s spear.

   The falconer’s eyes dart about the immediate area as he takes a defensive stance. At first there is no sign of Coward, but Sembas’s glimpses a slight shimmer of the air to his left. Sembas can feel a rush of air on that side, and a split second later he feels a heavy force connect with his left shoulder, unbalancing him slightly. He can see Coward’s foot retract from the kick, but the aptly named assassin is doing a decent job of remaining hidden.

   Across the battlefield, Lai’s eyes are firmly locked upon Sembas. Her mouth opens in an earsplitting scream. While it does not affect her allies, the Forsaken in the area are not so fortunate. Coward’s stealth is broken as he cups his hands over his ears and lets out a scream of pain. For at least the moment, Sembas has the advantage.


@Sig:

Nearby, Coward’s scream is echoed by Ravana who is forced to put her hands to her ears. Her eyes widen as she watches Sig steel his resolve and recover power of his weapon mere inches away from his skull.

Sig hurls his axe towards a nearby tree, and yanks it forward with the chain that secures it to his arm. He manages to uproot the tree and yanks it forward. Ravana has no time to react and the tree falls upon her, landing squarely upon her midsection and pinning her to the ground. Her eyes grow wide in fear and she reaches forward with one of her hands, touching the tree that has imprisoned her. Her fingers erupt in a brilliant orange light and the tree begins to burn. Her other hand stretches out towards Sig, sending a large burst of flame in the direction of the Chosen of Alviss.


@Fjorin and Siron:

   Catujel is spared from Fjorin’s wrath by Siron’s intervention.

   “Siron, I beg of you. Reconsider your course of action. If you face Fortuna head-on, she will destroy you. I will do as you ask and surrender myself to your companions, but I beg of you…think carefully of what you are doing,” implores Catujel. He turns toward the direction you came and begins to move toward the rear of the building.

   It is obvious that a great battle rages on in the next room. Down the hallway, you cast glimpses of the action. There is a red-haired woman being freed by constricting vines by an imposing, black-haired man, and you correctly guess that the juggernaut that destroyed the front of the building with her entrance was likely Blood. From where you stand, you cannot see Fortuna, but it is obvious from the chaos that Catujel is not exaggerating her power.

   Honor claps Siron on the back and moves towards the hallway. Siron and Fjorin stand to either side of Honor, and Siron, the rash young knight is eager to join in the fray and forget about the jarring experience of encountering his brother. He steps forward into the hallway, but the wood plank he steps on sags beneath his weight. Honor’s eyes widen. There is a loud, grating sound behind the three warriors, as if a metal lever is being pushed.

   Fjorin’s head whips around and he catches a glimpse of Catujel with his hand upon a large, metal switch. Long, metal spikes erupt from the walls of the hallway and attempt to skewer the three warriors. Honor roars, stretching out his arms to either side and slamming them into the chests of his companions to expel them backwards and out of the range of the deadly weapons.

   Siron and Fjorin land heavily on their backs upon the ground, while Catujel’s laughter echoes throughout the room. Siron and Fjorin both scramble to their feet, but Honor has not moved. It is with dawning horror that you realize why. One of the spikes has slashed through the front of his neck… directly through his Death Wound.

   Catujel flips the switch again and the spikes retract. Honor collapses to his knees as blood pours down the front of his neck and flows down his armor in crimson rivulets.

   “Well, that was disappointing!” calls Catujel. “The old man reacted quicker than I thought! Wow, Siron! You are daft! Did you honestly think that mudhead, Gustav, could ever outthink me? Ah, well! I would love to stay and chat, Siron, but duty calls and whatnot.” Catujel turns toward the rear of the building and takes off at a breakneck speed.

   “Siron…” Honor’s voice is raspy and fading. “Siron…” He beckons for the young knight to draw towards him.

Siron, his eyes wide and his entire body numb, drops to his knees beside his mentor, leaving Fjorin to decide whether to chase down Catujel or continue on into the next room and join in the fray with Fortuna.

   “Siron…” Honor’s hand fumbles towards his own waist and beneath the top of the armor that protects his lower body. From his pocket he extracts a small box which he holds out to Siron. Honor’s expression is pained and he gestures urgently for Siron to take the box. He thrusts it into Siron’s outstretched hands.

   “Adaline…” speaks Honor, his voice scarcely a whisper. Siron immediately recognizes it as the first name of the woman called Muse, the pretty redhead that kissed Honor before their departure to the Sanguine Fields.

Honor presses his hands against his throat, trying to slow the bleeding enough to get out his last words. “I asked her… before we left… She said… she said… she would… give me… answer… when I…” Every word is a struggle for Honor, and it is a battle he is rapidly losing. “Give to… give to her…”

Sadness and regret twist Siron’s features. Honor, noticing the young knight’s anguish, reaches a hand upward, touching Siron’s cheek. “You… you will be a knight yet… No matter what… I am very… very proud of you.”

These poignant words, which Siron so often wished to hear from his father, are the final words to be spoken by his mentor, the man who had so long ago, inspired Siron to follow a path to knighthood.
« Last Edit: January 21, 2014, 05:04:47 PM by Faidth »

Offline Archdemon Stu

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #25 on: January 23, 2014, 03:21:26 AM »
While Fjorin was correct to distrust Catujel, he had grimly underestimated just how far the brother of Siron would lower himself.  If only he had not left such a duty to Siron.  Of course he could not deal with his own brother!  Siron... Honor... neither would lay a finger on a man claiming surrender.  Fjorin's rage brimmed over, only half of it directed toward Siron's brother, and the other half to himself.  It was he who did nothing when he knew better.  It was he who had killed Honor.

"Sir Siron... go, ensure the prisoner gets back safely."

Gritting his teeth, he rose, and glared at the coward as he ran... like a starving beast watching its prey escape.  He would make this right.  Catujel had proven himself dangerous, and it would be his last mistake.  In one swift motion, Fjorin rose his blade to the ceiling and slammed it into the ground, the earth beneath crumbling before it.  As furious as the warrior was, he was not stupid.  Catujel would have more traps in wait, and if his blade was truly attuned to the earth, perhaps it could reveal any wood or stones that are out of place... it may just give him the advantage he needed, even if he would be a moment or two behind.

"Worry not about your brother... you can decide his fate when I bring you his torso."

Having learned what he could from his sword, Fjorin's ATHLETIC legs carried him swiftly through the corridors, intent on closing Catujel's lead, and tearing him limb from limb.
« Last Edit: January 23, 2014, 11:22:11 PM by Archdemon Stu »

Offline Radobe

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #26 on: January 25, 2014, 12:04:29 PM »
   Siron watches speechlessly, as his brother speaks his words of warning and leaves them. The knight loosens up the grip on his mace and releases a deep sigh. He tries to put aside the shock from the unexpected reunion and focus on the mission at hand. Catching glimpses of what was happening down the hall he tries to assess the situation. Honor claps him on the back and with a nod the young man falls in step on his side, along with Fjorin on the other side.

   Stepping first into the hallway, Siron is met with the strange sensation of his foot sinking into the floor and a loud, grating sound is heard from behind. Still trying to clear his head, the knight is confused and unaware of what is happening. Honor’s hand catches him off guard and pushes him back with ease. Still uncertain what is happening, the knight quickly goes back on his feet, drawing his weapon and readying his shield while doing so. His brother’s laughter can be heard behind them in the distance, but Siron completely ignores it. The Childer is shocked to see his friend has been skewered directly through his neck and death wound.

   “NO!” Siron screams, as the spikes retract and let go of Honors body. The knight’s weapon and shield land on the ground with a loud thud, when he rushes forward and claps his hands on the blood gushing wound. “No, no, no, no ….,” now Siron’s voice is barely a whisper, as both of them fall on their knees gently. Blood spilling on his gauntlets and the dying mans armor, as the knight is unable to stop the intense bleeding.

   “Siron…” Honor’s voice is raspy and fading.

   “No… you can’t… please, please don’t!” The young man’s words are filled with a mixture of both, sadness and fear.

   “Siron…”

   With teary eyes and clenching his teeth, he leans closer to his friend and mentor. Honor’s hand holds out a small box.

   “Adaline… I asked her… before we left… She said… she said… she would… give me… answer… when I…” Every word is a struggle for Honor, and it is a battle he is rapidly losing. “Give to… give to her…”

   Unable to say a word, the knight only nods and each time he blinks a stream of tears is summoned. Desperately squeezing Honor’s throat, he struggles in vain to stop the inevitable. Hoping for a miracle he doesn’t let go of his friend. It is than that he feels his mentor’s hand upon his cheek.

    “You… you will be a knight yet… No matter what… I am very… very proud of you.”

   Right now the cold metal gauntlet felt incredibly warm. When the last sign of life left Honor’s body, Siron catches his falling hand and gently lays down the body. He looks towards the empty ceiling and his face is instantly twisted by rage. His mouth wide open, the only thing his throat managed to produce was a shallow cough and a whimper. His mind screaming a thousand curses, to all deities who let this happen and even more directed towards him.

   "Sir Siron... go, ensure the prisoner gets back safely."… "Worry not about your brother... you can decide his fate when I bring you his torso."

   At this point Siron couldn’t care less what happened to his brother. He would give anything just to undo this. Still Fjorin was right, they came to do a task, a task that needed doing immediately. Picking up the box and grabbing his shield and mace, the knight tries to get his composure. He quickly makes his way to the end of the hallway. Looking wrecked and still breathing rapidly, he appears within the room. When he sees Blood he quickly averts his gaze, ashamed and guilty he doesn’t dare look the captain in the eyes. Instead the knight gestures towards Aelina and the armored man, to make their way towards him. 
An eye for two, a tooth for a jaw, a hair for a head! Fight to be respected!

Offline Daccio

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #27 on: January 25, 2014, 08:25:17 PM »
     Her eyes widen as something powerful shimmers in front of Fortuna as and reflects her stun back into Azazel. She stumbles back as he is thrown back to the floor, Aeliana is impressed by his willpower as he drags himself to his knees. Her glare spins to Fortuna and energy crackles around her fingertips just as she is thrown off balance by the splintering of the wood beneath her feet. Vines burst from the floor, wrapping her legs and thighs. She gritted her teeth with as barbed thorns sprout violently from the vines and dig into her.

     To her left she realizes that Azazel is covered in the same vines and for a moment wonders for his life. Fortuna was no longer playing with them.

     “I am done toying with you, pathetic girl,” spits Fortuna. “And as for you, Azazel, I will ensure that your death is a long, painful, experience that will cause you to beg for death! I will-”

     An earsplitting screech sounds in the room as the door that they had tried to get through explodes inward into the room, and a form slams into Fortuna as she
has no chance to react. She waves her hand, magical energy carrying the dust out of her vision, and her eyes widen barely a fraction. Maybe she would get out of this alive after all, Captain blood, who she had met only on few occasions has shown up.

     As the two exchange words and blows, Fortuna leaps backwards, throwing up a fire wall between Her and blood.

     Magical energy sheathing her hands, she tries to rip away the vines with little effect. Grimmacing in pain, she hears Azazel roar and rip out of his vines, before he stumbles over to her. She glances to him with an unreadable expression as he pulls out a boot knife and tears away the vines gripping her legs.
Hearing a noise off to her right she glances, seeing a young man with dark brown hair, wielding a mace and shield, and looked on the verge of something like panic. He motioned to her to come to her. So perhaps this was more than an attack on Fortuna, had someone truly come to get her out of here, with Blood at their head?

     “Let’s go. I’m going to help how I can, but now is the time for leave taking. You must show me where my things are that I came in with, and Magnus’ sword” A pang of heartache flashed through her body at the mention of his name, but she put the thought from her mind. She had things to do. She looke the young knight in the face and he could see a wealth of knowledge in her eyes. Aeliana grabbed Azazel’s sleeve and start to pulling him towards the exit that the young knight was in. She tried to give him a little push towards the door. She looked Siron in the eyes. Her gaze was piercing, and you get the feeling she was not someone you would want to make angry

     “You are here with blood?” She questioned, she didn’t wait for a response. “Don’t attempt to harm Azazel, he is under my protection” She seemed to expect to be listened to, and her voice rang with clear authority.

     Taking a step back into the room, her gaze locked onto the scene before her, the stalemate of Blood and Fortuna. Those around her could see heavy green and black energy spinning around her hands. Angling herself towards parallel with the fire wall, she threw her hands out. A roar followed and the ground started exploding up from below, rock and fire bursting into the air. It roared towards the fire wall. She hoped that as the two magical spells collided, not only would the burning rock consume some of the fuel that was burning in the fire wall, she hoped for a brief disturbance that would allow blood a chance to make a move. With a roar her Intelligence – Spell Riven Earth collided into the fire wall…

 
« Last Edit: January 27, 2014, 10:42:29 PM by Sepher »

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #28 on: February 02, 2014, 10:38:12 AM »
Sig sees the flames coming and realizes that he doesn't even have time to retrieve his axe. Glancing to his left, he sees an old tree stump within a short distance of him. He dashes over to it and grasps it with both hands, ripping it from the ground with a yell. He then holds it up and ducks behind it, using it as a shield to hopefully block at least the majority of the flames that wash over his position. (Strength [IMPROVISED FIGHTING], Constitution [FORTITUDE OF THE ALL-FATHER])
« Last Edit: February 02, 2014, 02:09:36 PM by Starblade|MKIV »

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #29 on: February 03, 2014, 11:08:27 AM »
@Fjorin:

Both Fjorin’s upbringing and his own innate virtues tell him that to run away is cowardice, and if such is true, than Catujel is likely one of the greatest cowards he has ever faced. A second truth of cowards is that they often cover their tracks with underhanded means. Luckily, the warrior of the Ebonmane has the forethought to use the General’s boon to affect the earth.

As the blade strikes the ground before him, Fjorin feels shifting and rumbling under his feet. Ahead of him, he watches as three traps are triggered. The first trap, at the end of the hallway closest to him was similar to the one that ended Honor. A little farther down the hallway, a second trap ignites the floor in a wall of flame that quickly dissipates. At the end of the hallway, Fjorin can see Catujel slam his hand against the wall upon a hidden button, triggering a third trap. The shockwave sent through the earth erupts, triggering the third trap, and Fjorin watches as shocks of electricity erupt from the walls. It is this third trap that likely would have caused the fall of the Ebonmane warrior.

Confident that his path is clear, Fjorin bounds through the hallway, his footsteps like thunder upon the floor. His Athletics lend him great speed, but even that falls short of Catujel’s flight. He is likely one of the fastest men Fjorin has ever seen. However, it quickly becomes apparent Catujel does not have the same durability as Fjorin. Despite the speed with which he moves, it is evident the pace is quickly exhausting Catujel.

Fjorin follows Catujel through the torture chamber and back out into the open. Quite suddenly, Catujel turns to face Fjorin, his momentum still granting him speed as he flies backward through the opening. Upon his wrist appears to be some kind of hand-mounted crossbow. He fires a bolt directly towards Fjorin’s throat, hoping to impale the warrior.


@Siron:

The mage makes her way towards the young knight and alarm affects Siron as he hears the name Azazel used in conjunction with the black-haired man that accompanies Aeliana. Given the experience he just had with trusting a Forsaken, his first instinct is to strike this man down, yet conflict seizes him.

On one hand, he had just lost a friend and mentor at the hands of his own brother. He had hesitated, and as a result, Honor had died trying to protect him. On the other hand, hadn’t Fjorin mentioned this Punisher had once been an honorable man and could be redeemed? What would Fjorin do if he was here? Would he heed his own words? Or would the death of Honor have changed his course of action? 

The woman before him, understandably, seems eager to leave this place. But is it wise to allow her to protect this Forsaken with her? Yes, Siron had watched as the man selflessly tore his own hands to shreds in an attempt to save her. Yet, he is still a Forsaken. What if he betrays them just as Catujel had? Siron has heard tales before of prisoners developing sympathies for their captors. Is Aeliana suffering from such an affliction? Has her better judgment wavered due to all she has endured?

Siron is left with but a moment to ponder what to do. Should he allow Punisher to accompany himself and Aeliana, or should he attempt to strike him down to ensure he is not betrayed for a second time in one day?



@Aeliana:

The young knight before her seemed eager to lead her away, but as he gazes upon Punisher, she sees some reluctance in his eyes. Down the hallway, she sees a dark form upon the floor. Someone has fallen in the next room. Perhaps this young knight dispatched the Childer Forsaken who had helped to imprison her.

Punisher nods dutifully as Aeliana inquires after the location of her belongings. “Of course, milady. But it isn’t safe for you here. You must get out. Your possessions are being held in a locked chest in one of the living quarters. I have reason to suspect that the chest is warded against opening. It is likely only Fortuna or someone of equal power could open it. I’ll retrieve the chest and meet you outside. Will that suit you, milady?”

While listening to Punisher’s response, Aeliana looks for some way to assist Blood. Blood stares at the wall of flame in front of her and appears to be ready to throw caution to the wind and leap through it. Instead, Aeliana’s Riven Earth spell collides with the wall of flame, and as the fire weakens, Blood’s eyes lock onto Fortuna’s fleeing form. She is tearing across the room at full speed towards another hallway in the rear of the room.



@Aeliana and Siron:

As the knight and the mage discourse, Blood takes up the chase, her legs propelling her across the floor at unbelievable speeds. Her shoulder lowered, she collides with Fortuna, tackling her to the ground. A look of desperation affects Fortuna’s features. Fortuna slams her head backwards, hitting Blood in the face and causing the Captain to stumble backwards. Rivers of crimson pour down Blood’s forehead and from her nose, but the tenacious Captain is not about to give up the chase. She swings her broadsword forward, just as Fortuna thrusts her hand towards Blood. Blood’s blade cuts across the top of Fortuna’s palm, nearly severing the mage’s fingers.

 Instantaneously, Fortuna’s spell takes effect, pushing Blood backwards with some invisible force in an attempt to widen the distance between them. However, the relentless Captain Blood is not so easily deterred. She reaches to her waist and unsheathes a formidable hunting knife, which she throws towards Fortuna’s fleeing form. The knife catches the sorceress in the back of her shoulder and embeds itself deeply into her flesh. Fortuna cries out in pain, but does not cease her flight.

Fortuna’s movements begin to slow, and Siron is reminded of the poison that Ciar had been working on. It appears Captain Blood certainly has Fortuna on the defensive. Fortuna’s eyes blaze as the poison begins to work its way through her body. A triumphant look crosses Blood’s face as she explodes forward, her sword poised to run Fortuna through.

However, Fortuna, her body beginning to fail her, moves her mouth to summon the words of an incantation. Enormous wooden spikes erupt from the floor. Blood’s eyes widen as she attempts to adjust her course, but she moves with such great momentum that she cannot stop herself entirely from colliding with the spikes. One penetrates the front of her armor and erupts from the back of her shoulder. Another strikes her through the stomach, causing her face to contort with pain. Yet, it is the third that is the most terrifying. A long, jagged spike is trained on Blood’s Death Wound, the small, star shaped scar upon her forehead where Severan Deceit had once embedded his spear. At the last moment, Blood twists her face to the side, and instead the spike buries itself into her cheek.

Fortuna is exhausted and the poison is quickly paralyzing her body. Her hand shaking, she stretches it out before her, opening a portal, likely to Darastae. She glances back at Blood, who despite her own agony, pushes against the spikes to get closer to Fortuna. Blood forces the point of her broadsword downward, plunging it deep into Fortuna’s back. The sorceress cries out in agony as she pulls her body through the portal.

The swirling mass of light engulfs Fortuna, and Blood’s sword, and both disappear, the portal slamming shut in Fortuna’s wake. The spikes retract and Blood falls to the ground in a heap.

Punisher shakes his eyes in disbelief. “I have never in my life seen anyone prove such a challenge for Fortuna. The danger has not passed. Coward and Ravana are still here, and the latter is nearly as powerful as her mistress. We must make haste.”



@Sig:

Sig tears a tree stump from the ground, using it to shield the majority of his body. It is lucky that he had the forethought to do so. The flames connect with the stump, forcing Sig backwards. If not for his incredible Constitution, he likely would have been knocked over, allowing the flames to engulf his body. Sig’s feet dig into the ground. The hungry flames devour the stump, leaving little more than charred handfuls of smoking wood where the stump once was. The remnants drop from Sig’s hands and his eyes go back to the tree where Ravana was imprisoned moments ago.

However, Sig is surprised to find that the entire tree has been lit aflame, and Ravana is nowhere to be seen. There is an earsplitting sound from the rear of the compound and Sig watches as an enormous, metal form lumbers in his direction. It is likely 12 feet high and a good 6 feet wide. It brings to mind the clever machinery the Chosen of Alviss use to assist them in carrying the cumbersome hauls of gemstones to the treasure room. Could this be one of the machines that General Fury had alluded to? Terrible creations fueled by the blood of the fallen Ageless that had given their lives upon these fields?

The ground beneath Sig’s feet shakes wildly, and roots explode through the soil, seizing his ankles and digging long, two inch thorns into his flesh. His gaze falls upon Ravana, a distance of maybe 10 feet away. She is certainly doing her best to stay out of range with the Chosen of Alviss.



@Sembas:

Lai’s interventions have temporarily given Sembas an edge. Coward’s hands are clasped to his ears, and this significantly lowers his defense. Sembas glances upward, his gaze locking onto Anlaf’s. Faile’s brother seems to understand what he desires, and Essence of the Falcon comes to grace Sembas. Sembas finds his speed and strength increased, and he swings his spear forward, attempting to connect with Coward’s skull. Should the blow succeed, Sembas will follow in up with a well-placed strike towards Coward’s torso, embedding the point into the assassin’s chest.

Sembas’s first blow firmly connects with Coward’s head, knocking the assassin off balance. Coward collapses to the ground and Sembas moves forward to skewer him with the spear. However, Coward deftly rolls to his right and springs to his feet. The force of the spear’s thrust carries the tip of the spear into the ground. Sembas moves to wrench it free from the earth. Coward swiftly moves out of range in an attempt to reestablish stealth. He successfully manages to do so, but Sembas’s blow had served an excellent purpose. The assassin is bleeding profusely from the temple, and he leaves a trail of blood in his wake. It will be much harder for him to take Sembas by surprise again.

Sembas feels a rush of air and his eyes widen as he sees a throwing knife careening towards him, intent on imbedding into his chest.

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #30 on: February 05, 2014, 09:30:46 AM »
Sembas curses his foolishness.  He should have impaled Navar the first chance he got, not whacked him upside the head.  But it is too late to rectify his past actions, there is a throwing knife aimed in on his chest.

The Essence of the Falcon is still coursing through him.  He quickly snatches his spear from the ground, the tip of it tearing through the dirt and sending a shower of earth arcing into the air.  Using both hands he spins his spear in front of him as a rotating shield.  Thanks to his innate athletics and the Essence of the Falcon taking its effect, it should be enough to deflect the throwing knife.

He finds his current tactic to be a losing battle.  Coward is leaking blood from his temple thanks to the blow he took earlier.  With another flourish of his spear, Sembas puts his Wisdom tracking skills to use and begins to follow the blood trail.

Should he happen upon Coward he will meet the man with a flurry of strikes with his spear.

Offline Archdemon Stu

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #31 on: February 06, 2014, 06:18:14 PM »
Fjorin had known the powers of his new blade to be great, but it seemed he had underestimated his gift once more.  Catujel's traps were easily negated by its power - the last of which would have surely ended the legacy of the Ebonmane.  With the path cleared, Fjorin stormed forward with furious resolve, intent on making good on his promise to Sir Siron.

As the two immortals dashed about the building, it quickly became clear to the northman that his foe was much swifter than any he had ever faced, and Fjorin barely manages to keep him within his sights.  However, stamina soon comes into play, and the warrior knows he will soon close in on the Catujel.  His jaw clenched, he presses forward, fueled by a rage that is only begotten of a coward's deception.

Suddenly, Catujel turns and reveals a hidden weapon.  Of course the sniveling whelp would have cheap tricks hidden on his body as well.  In Fjorin's many battles, it was these tactics that proved the most dangerous.  The bolt would likely be poisoned, there was no time to change direction, his forward momentum was too great, and his-

As if time stopped, a strange sensation interrupted his rushing thoughts.  There was a strange tingling in his chest... a familiar sensation.  It was that of a spirit's touch.  It was that of Lai's touch, when they rested in Avalon under the stars.  In that moment, the warrior would swear he could even feel the night time breeze on his skin.

Fjorin's massive body and stoic mind reacted quickly - more quickly than ever before.  He widened his forward step, dipping lower to the ground and leaning to the side in order to (DEXTERITY - DODGE) the incoming missile, and immediately continue his pursuit.

At the first opportunity, Fjorin would use the gift of the Blood-Warden General to take Catujel's swift legs right out from under his body.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2014, 06:43:39 PM by Archdemon Stu »

Offline Radobe

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #32 on: February 08, 2014, 12:07:02 PM »
   Despite all that has happened, Siron is trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. Slowing his breathing and attempting to retrieve his calm, he observes the events that unfold in the room. After freeing himself and Aelina from Fortuna’s spell, the black haired man and the sorceress approach him.

“You are here with blood? Don’t attempt to harm Azazel, he is under my protection”

   Cold chills run down the knight’s spine at the mention of the Punisher. His eyes widen and his rage boils. Despite the armor, Aelina can sense the rising tension of the knight. Slowly he pulls his shield in and lowers his mace. Almost instinctively he gets into a ready stance. The sound around him begins to fade, until everything apart of his and Azazel’s, breathing and motions, dampens and becomes barely noticeable. His focus sharpens and dims everything, but the black armored man. Time seems to slow down around him and Siron can feel the familiar rush of adrenalin, in the seconds before he goes into battle. He can almost see himself burying his mace in the man’s face, yet he doesn’t move a muscle. Exhaling a breath, hot enough to leave white mist in the air, his rage demands he strikes down this forsaken here and now! Every muscle in him, tenses to its limit and still his body refuses to move even an inch.  As if shackled, the knight stands still and now he notices the shackles he himself has placed. Striking a defenseless man meant forfeiting his dream of knighthood. The selfish dream for which, he once died, helpless and unable to help his father. The foolish dream that lead to Lurien Honor‘s untimely demise. The brightly shining dream he saw back in the burning manor and has followed ever since. Siron will not give into his rage, strike Punisher and abandon all he has stood for, even if the man is a forsaken. Loosening both arms, his rage clouded mind clears and he composes himself once more.

   The knight’s gaze finally moved from the Punisher and he looked at the sorceress.

“I will do as you ask,” even though she did not wait for a response, he gave her one.  Siron has visibly improved from moments ago and he has finally gotten somewhat of a grip on himself. He quickly returned to watching Azazel’s movement, despite the fact that Punisher tore the deadly bindings on himself and Aelina, with disregard of his own well being, Siron would not trust the man.  Before they could leave however, the battle between the captain and Fortuna, came to a quick conclusion and the knight rushed towards the wounded captain, carefully yet swiftly, he bypasses Punisher. Sheathing his mace and shield he falls on one knee and gets ready to pick up the captain.

“I have never in my life seen anyone prove such a challenge for Fortuna. The danger has not passed. Coward and Ravana are still here, and the latter is nearly as powerful as her mistress. We must make haste.”

“That is why we leave, now! Trough the front and Punisher, you are coming with us! If Miss Aelina’s belongings are of great importance, I will retrieve them myself. You are neither in a condition to do that, nor will I leave you to do as you please.” He looks at the sorceress with a determined look. “All of us came here to insure your safety! Please, do not make this harder than it already is! I will do what you ask, but I must get you to safety first, you have my word!”
An eye for two, a tooth for a jaw, a hair for a head! Fight to be respected!

Offline Daccio

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #33 on: February 12, 2014, 11:29:01 AM »
As she cast her riven earth spell, she faintly heard the knight behind her speak –

”I will do as you ask”

Well. At least he wasn’t going to try to kill him, which was a start. Her spell slammed into Fortuna’s, weakening it enough to allow blood to leap through to Fortuna. Her eyes widen a fraction at the scene of desperate fighting happens before her, and she almost forgets the young man behind her. As Fortuna disappears, and Blood slumps to the ground, she feels almost useless. Anything she could throw at Fortuna was thrown right back at her. She was not strong enough, but maybe now that the divines had chosen her, she could be as strong as she needed to be.

She heard Azazel speak from beside her

“I have never in my life seen anyone prove such a challenge for Fortuna. The danger has not passed. Coward and Ravana are still here, and the latter is nearly as powerful as her mistress. We must make haste.”

And then the knight, who had shot passed them to Blood, kneeling next to her.

“That is why we leave, now! Through the front and Punisher, you are coming with us! If Miss Aeliana’s belongings are of great importance, I will retrieve them myself. You are neither in a condition to do that, nor will I leave you to do as you please.”

He gave her a determined look and she almost smiled at his insistence.

“All of us came here to insure your safety! Please, do not make this harder than it already is! I will do what you ask, but I must get you to safety first, you have my word!”

Those words cut close. They had come to rescue her and shed blood for her. Her Guardian had done the same but lost his life in the process. She hoped he was happy wherever he was now. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes, but did not leak down her cheeks. She would keep control of her emotions, she could not allow herself to grieve right now, and there was much to be done.

Taking a breath she glided forward, small flakes of dried blood falling off of her dress and she felt the warmness of new in her boots where it had drained from the wounds in her legs. Kneeling beside blood, she spoke softly

“It is okay captain, we are here for you. You will be hungry and a little tired after this, make sure that you eat as soon as possible and eat whenever you are hungry for a couple days.” She continued to speak soft words of comfort whether the woman needed them or not, and used Intelligence – Spellcasting [Healing].
As the spell was being cast, she spoke to the young knight and Azazel.

“Azazel, can you tell our Young knight where my things are?” She looked to Siron “These are things that are important to me. If they are not recovered by someone else, I will come back in for them, alone if I must.” Her voice was nearly ice cold; she was not willing to budge on this. Her artifact she wanted back, but she particularly wanted Magnus’ sword. She would not leave that in her hands.

She looked back to blood as the spell was finishing up.

“I think you should know… I have been chosen by the divine this day, as you and Dethys have…”

She wanted to let blood know, so that she could properly assess the situation. The welts and wounds on her writs were clearly visible.

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #34 on: February 17, 2014, 03:25:16 PM »
Sig is caught by surprise by the vines bursting from the ground. They wrap around his ankles and dig hard thorns through his padding and into his flesh. Annoyed, Sig forces himself to stay on his feet as the thorns tug at him (Constitution [FORTITUDE OF THE ALL-FATHER]). He hacks away at the vines with his axe, attempting to cut at them and pulling backwards simultaneously in an attempt to release himself from their grasp (Strength [ONE-HANDED AXE]).

Should his attempts to free himself succeed, he will switch from his axe to his lute and begin to warm up a bass line (Wisdom - Spiritual Magic [CRESCENDO]).

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #35 on: February 18, 2014, 06:25:38 PM »
@Sembas:

The falconer’s quick reaction spares him from being injured by one of Coward’s throwing knives. He sets to tracking the injured assassin, which seems to be rather easily done.

Above, Anlaf makes wide circles in the sky as Sembas realizes the trail has died off. There no longer seems to be any visible sign of blood upon the ground. As if in reply to Sembas’s unasked question, Anlaf gives a slight shake of his head. The assassin has managed to evade even Anlaf’s keen gaze.

Chico pops his head out of Sembas’s pocket. “No, no, human! You’re doing it all wrong! I don’t get it; you have those big, bulbous beaks on your faces, but you can’t manage to track each other down. Honestly!” Chico scurries down Sembas’s arm and lands on a tuft of green grass at the falconer’s feet.

Sembas can see Chico’s whiskers twitching wildly. After a moment or two, Chico comes to an abrupt stop several feet in front of a few large, tangled bushes not too far from the place Fjorin and the others entered in their rescue mission.

“Sembas!” Chico hollers. “I think he’s in those bushes!”

As you draw closer, three shadowy forms erupt from the bushes, each of them training a throwing knife upon you. Where there had once been one Navar Coward, there are now three, but it is nearly impossible to tell which one is the real Coward.

Three arms pull back in the air, then snap forward to release their weapons in your direction.


@Fjorin:

As Sembas prepares to defend himself, nearby, two forms explode out of the torture room. Fjorin’s body swiftly leans to the side to evade the bolt from Catujel’s hidden weapon. In response to the attack, the Ebonmane warrior strikes forward in attempt to take the fleeing enemy’s feet out from under him.
 
Catujel is a blur of impressive speed and motion. As Fjorin’s sword swings forward, Catujel leaps into the air, just a hair’s breadth higher than the weapon. The strike is so close that the blade shaves the bottoms of Catujel’s boots. Catujel, with cat-like reflexes, lands upon his feet. Alarm seizes Catujel’s face. Perhaps he is realizing the Ebonmane warrior is a greater force to be reckoned with than he had initially though.

Catujel’s hand disappears into the folds of his jacket, and emerges with a long, thin chain with a small, metal ball at the end. It is obvious that Fjorin is far stronger than Catujel, so the brother of Siron must resort to his speed and guile to even stand a chance. As Fjorin barrels towards him, Catujel, forcefully throws one side of the chain towards Fjorin’s throat, while maintaining his hold on the other end.

The chain hits the Ebonmane warrior squarely in the adam’s apple and tightly wraps around his neck. Catujel gives the chain a mighty tug, causing great pain and discomfort for Fjorin, but ultimately, not bringing him to his knees.

“Will you stop for a bloody second?” Catujel reasons. “For pity’s sake, man! If you insist on pursuing me like a dog, then I’ll treat you like one and you can stay leashed like this until you calm the hell down!” Catujel shakes his head in frustration. “Think about what you’re doing, man. You Ageless are so blind to the truth! Big, bad Forsaken are just plain evil! Awfully one-sided if you think about it. Who determines what’s good and what’s evil? Those Ageless up on their thrones in Avalon will tell you all the atrocities the Forsaken have committed, but what about the Ageless? They’ll step on anyone’s head to get what they want.”

In your heart, you know his words are lies, but you are frozen in your tracks. It’s not the chain; though that is impeding you, you know you could break it if you tried. It’s something else… Your mind feels cloudy, and every word that pours from his lips sounds more and more like truth. You know no amount of physical strength could help you act against this man, not while you are under his spell. His words ensnare you, clouding your judgment and binding your actions. Yes… perhaps he is right… perhaps the Ageless are truly the evil ones.


@Aeliana and Siron:

Punisher nods obediently to Aeliana’s request. “Of course, milady.” He turns his attention to the young knight, giving him very specific directions as to how to find Aeliana’s belongings. “Whatever you do, don’t try to open the chest. If it is indeed warded, attempting to open it could serve to your detriment. We need to get it to someone powerful. Someone whose power is equal to Fortuna’s.”

@Siron:

Siron follows Punisher’s directions, moving back through the hallway he had originally come through, and into the room where Honor breathed his last. As he enters the room where his mentor’s body rests, he feels a chill creeping up his spine as his eyes fall upon an impossibly beautiful woman. Her stormy gray eyes peer from beneath her helm, and she is adorned in golden platemail. There is some familiarity in her features, and it is at that moment that Siron’s eyes fall upon the enormous, white, feathered wings folded behind her back… The leader of the Valkyries, the same one General Fury is rumored to have defeated, and the same that bore Constancy away shortly after Siron’s arrival in Avalon.

The Valkyrie is kneeling beside Honor, her hand upon the sword sheathed at his side. Two more figures emerge from the darkness, slightly smaller in frame, but wearing similar armor to their leader. As Siron enters the room, the leader of the Valkyries stands, her posture precise. She is awe-inspiring, both a vision of elegance and a presence of authority at the same time.

When her voice emerges from her lips, it feels as if Siron’s sense of hearing is being caressed by some unseen force.

"You must be Siron, the boy of whom the departed speaks."

Her words are sweet and pleasing, and never has Siron before heard something so euphonious. It is enough to make his knees tremble. Siron offers no reply, and the Valkyrie tilts her head to one side, a small smile of amusement playing across her lips.

One of her companion’s leans forward. “Brynhildr… Perhaps the boy is mute.”

The second companion giggles but ceases after a sharp look from Brynhildr.

“Jest at him not,” comes the reply of their leader. “Surely this has been a day marked by grief for his loss. Have you forgotten yourselves? Is your own sense of grief so far removed? What is a Valkyrie without some sense of empathy?”

Her companions lower their heads in shame. Brynhildr bends down and unbuckles the belt around Honor’s waist to which his scabbard and broadsword are attached. Wordlessly, she crosses to Siron. She places her hand upon his and a shudder of ecstasy seizes his limbs. She turns his hand over and places the sword upon it.

“He wished for you to have it. It is his final gift to you. May it serve you well, Siron Entrima.” Brynhildr’s face draws closer to Siron, and her lips lightly brush his forehead. A shockwave of emotion ripples through his entire body. It is a strange feeling, as if all of his anger and grief has been forcibly ripped from his heart and mind, and taken away, leaving him with a renewed sense of clarity.

Brynhildr makes her way back to Honor’s body, her expression thoughtful, almost sad. She crouches down beside him, and takes his unmoving form into her arms. She offers a sympathetic nod in parting before she and her companions are enveloped in a brilliant white light, so bright that Siron is forced to shield his with a forearm. When he opens them again, all three of them are gone.

Left with Honor’s gift in his hands, he is free to make his way to the living quarters to retrieve the chest that holds Aeliana’s belongings.


@Aeliana:


Blood is truly in rough shape as Aeliana attempts to tend to her wounds. Were she a mortal, she would have been dead several times over. Crimson blood pours from several wounds upon the Captain’s body, and she fights to maintain her consciousness.

As Aeliana’s healing begins to take effect, her eyes focus on the mage, and as Aeliana reveals her recent gift at the hands of the Divine, Blood smirks slightly.
“That sonofabitch was right…” She laughs but is seized by agony. Your healing has certainly aided her, but you quickly realize that your spell is far more potent on mortals than Ageless. Nevertheless, her wounds stop bleeding and she looks considerably less worse for wear.

“Dethys always thought… he thought you might be called upon one day… Said it would be a waste if the Divine didn’t recruit you.” Blood attempts to sit up, but her wounds are still fresh and ache terribly.

“Here… Let me…” Punisher moves forward to assist Blood.

She eyes him warily, glancing to you, then back to Punisher, before reaching out her hand to allow him to pull her up. He leans down, putting his shoulder under one of her arms, and helping her to her feet. Blood breathes in sharply as pain affects her body. Her wounds will certainly need more attention back in Avalon.

“Thanks.” Blood glances around the room and her gaze falls in the direction of the narrow hallway that Siron had disappeared through.

You catch a glimpse of something… something you’ve never seen before. There is a woman… no… three women. But with wings and golden armor. There is light, a blinding light, and they are gone.

Blood hangs her head in silence. When she lifts her eyes again, you see a flicker of emotion pass through them. She shakes her head as if dispelling the unpleasant feeling away and motions towards the wide, gaping hole she had made with her entry into the room. 

“We need to get out of here,” says Blood. “The others are waiting outside. We’ve got to get you to safety, Aeliana.”

Blood begrudgingly allows Punisher to help her outside.

Once there, you quickly realize that though the fight with Fortuna has ended, there are still matters to be tended to.

To your left, a man seems to be following a mouse towards some bushes just as three shadowy figures explode from within. Nearby, another large warrior explodes out of the torture room, intent on skewering his fleeing opponent. You can hear the latter’s voice carried upon the wind; it is that of the Childer Forsaken.

There is a tree aflame and man of diminutive size fights to free himself from the vines that ensnare them. It is a familiar move, similar to the one Fortuna used against you and Punisher. You catch a glimpse of Fortuna’s apprentice, her gaze firmly locked upon an enormous machine, a construction of terrible power. She seems to be controlling it and it is making his way towards the unsuspecting short, stocky, fellow.

Even further down the field of battle, you see an enormous hole in the ground. There is a woman with long, blonde hair and flowing robes, and a mountainous young man you recognize as General Fury’s son, Dennan. The latter’s gaze has fallen upon the construct and you see his hand fall upon his axe. He lets out a feral roar and takes off in the direction of the construct.


@Sig:

You successfully manage to free yourself, despite the persistent clawing of the vines to ensnare you again. You take your lute in hand and begin to strum the opening notes to Crescendo, but find yourself unable to finish the tune as the ground beneath you vibrates so violently that you miss the next note.

With a grunt of irritation, your eyes lock onto Ravana, and with some degree of panic, the monstrosity making its way toward you, a mechanical behemoth she seems to be controlling. As you contemplate what to do, you see a streak of silver tearing across the field, and watch as Dennan barrels towards the construct, his axe poised to strike the mechanical legs that carry its cumbersome form.
« Last Edit: February 18, 2014, 06:42:17 PM by Faidth »

Offline Archdemon Stu

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #36 on: February 20, 2014, 07:30:28 PM »
   Even with a chain wrapped firmly around his throat, Fjorin begins to feel uncomfortably pacified.  Catujel speaks of good and evil, and the grey areas between; subjects the Ebonmane warrior had never taken significant stock in suddenly seemed important to him.  Was he only doing what he did in life, and following orders blindly into battle after battle once more?  What did he truly know of the Forsaken?  And more importantly, what did he truly know of the Ageless?

   No, these thoughts were unfamiliar.  Why was he having them now?

        What little emotions he had steadily twisted.  All the good Fjorin had seen of the Ageless became meaningless and hollow… to switch the two in his head was to entirely corrupt him.

        General Fury had fought the Valkyries selfishly, fearing loss and change… refusing to do so for any other but the Archon because of her greed.

        Fjorin’s only “friend,” Lai, was a mere tool of the Lady of Shadows, intent on seeing that he accomplishes his mission to destroy Bayard Cael.  To her, he was but a means to retrieve Aras safely.

        The Thunder Caller was just in his actions, having put a stop to Fefner Halvar's wonton warmongering in search for his kidnapped queen.

        Sir Siron’s sense of mercy was simply a misguided and foolish concept that any simpleton knight would give in to; merely a ploy for social gain and a selfish desire to elevate one’s standing.

        And Honor’s death… it was…

   Catujel’s words had successfully twisted many things… but there was nothing that could corrupt the fallen knight’s sacrifice.  Fjorin’s spellbound senses grasped about with its misshapen clutches in an attempt to find something… yet, Honor’s death was the very ideal of how a warrior should fall in battle, and without even an instant to think on his actions, he instinctively saved his comrades.  Foolish?  Perhaps.  Tactically sound?  No, he would have been far more of an asset in this battle.  Yet, even the greatest sorcery could not defile his actions as something evil.

        “Perhaps you are right… I admit, I have argued with son of the Archon himself on the misguided notions of the Ageless.  I know not why, but… your words ring true.  I have been… weak.” the warrior seemed lost in thought...

        ____________________________________________________

        Suddenly, Fjorin’s gauntlet clasps tightly onto the chain, allowing it no movement.  His calm voice suddenly escalates into a thundering roar.  “I have been far too merciful!” With his sword arm – his blade firmly grasped - he shatters the chain.

        “Tell me where your death wound is now, or I swear I will turn you to mulch and burn the remains to find it!"

        He pursues Catujel once more… but this time, his eyes are filled with a palpable bloodlust, and his stoicism is nowhere to be found.  The coward’s spell had done quite a number on the Ebonmane warrior, confusing what few morals he held both past and present.  But, with Honor’s courageous actions being of such purity, regardless of Catujel or Fjorin’s affiliation, the brother of Siron had to pay.  And now, with his mind twisted against the principles of the Ageless, any obligation he felt toward being merciful – or even honorable - is gone, along with his promise to Siron.

        Only vengeful brutality remains.
« Last Edit: February 25, 2014, 03:31:40 AM by Archdemon Stu »

Offline Daccio

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #37 on: February 20, 2014, 08:08:48 PM »
     She listened patiently as Azazel told Siron where to find her things. She wondered how far his loyalty would go. She could never forgive the man, but perhaps he could find a measure of redemption. Many things remained unknown and unseen, but she would deal with them as they came up.
   
     She mumbles under her breath as her healing spell does not seem as effective as it should have been. Perhaps there were some fundamental differences between what she is now and what she was. She would have to bridge that gap and soon if her power was to continue to grow.
   
      “That sonofabitch was right…” Captain blood said. She laughed but was seized by visible agony. She nearly flinched at how much pain the woman must be going through. She truly did know, as she had just lived it.

      “Dethys always thought… he thought you might be called upon one day… Said it would be a aste if the Divine didn’t recruit you.”
She watched, tensing slightly as Azazel moved to assist blood. She was going to watch him, but he had some measure of trust from her. He had attacked Fortuna for her, taken severe hurts for her and nearly been killed. While that did not take away the pain of the death of Magnus, it certainly put him on the right path for redemption.

     Something caught the corner of her eye as she stood. At first it appeared to be a single woman, golden armored and with wings, but as she looked closer there were 3 of them.  After a flash of bright light, though, they are gone. She looked to blood and caught a flicker of emotion on her face, and resolved that she would have to ask her about that later.

      “We need to get out of here,” says Blood. “The others are waiting outside. We’ve got to get you to safety, Aeliana.”
Aeliana nodded to her statement, but even as she hear this, she was quickly casting a spell. It was a simple spell, requiring very little power and time, but of immense usefulness. She cast Intelligence – Spellcasting: Read residue. As they were walking out of the room, she studied the residues left behind by all of Fortuna’s spells in hopes that she could learn them. One must know their enemy if they are going to face them, after all.

      After a few moments, when they arrived outside, it appeared there was much to be seen two. Her analytical gaze swept across what was now a battlefield, her instinctual tactical mind kicking into high gear. She caught a glimpse of several things happening at once, but the largest threat to her was posed by the apprentice of Fortuna, who appeared to be controlling the large construction barreling towards her assumed allies. Eyes narrowing just a bit, she decided to take matters into her own hands if she could. Even as Dennan Barreled towards the construct, a well of power appeared formed around her hand and was quickly forged into a scalpel thin blade of magical energy. With incredible speed and precision, she launched what she hoped to be a surprise attack on Ravana [Intelligence: Spellcasting – Sever] . She hoped to cut Ravana’s ties to her magical energy and if she succeeded, she would hold the severing as tightly as she could.
« Last Edit: February 22, 2014, 09:39:33 AM by Sepher »

Offline Radobe

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #38 on: February 24, 2014, 12:01:23 PM »
Siron holds the captain as Aeliana attempts to heal her. The spell quickly takes effect and he lets Blood lie down, while listening to Lady Ebraldi.
The young man raises a finger to object, but quickly thinks better of it. Seeing how Aeliana has more or less grasped the situation in her hands and the still lasting sorrowful experience of the last time he made important decisions, he was not too eager to lead. Still leaving the captain wounded and in a close proximity to Punisher, was not exactly the best scenario.  After all, until recently that man was Forsaken.

“I … understand,” he quickly goes through the given directions to memories the essential parts. Before departing to retrieve the sorceress belongings, he gives one last look to Aeliana. “I leave the captain in your hands… she is important to us all, take good care of her,” reluctance can be felt in his voice.  With all said, Siron leaves and following the instructions, he heads back through the hallway he came. Within that hallway, lies the body of lieutenant Honor of the fierce legion, who died saving Siron’s life once more.

Betraying the knight’s expectations however, was an image of an incredibly beautiful woman kneeling next to the body. At first he fails to recognize her, but as soon as he sees the white wings folded behind her back, his eyes widen and he realizes what is happening. Valkyries have come to take the departed Immortal’s body. The one kneeling next to Honor’s body was none other but the leader of the Valkyries, who the knight saw during his first day in Avalon.
Noticing him, the woman stands up and two others come from the shadows. Adorned in golden platemails, the Valkyries create an imposing image. Their leader speaks and contrary to that image, her voice is soft and welcoming, and caring.

"You must be Siron, the boy of whom the departed speaks."

Siron is both in awe and ashamed, neither able to speak nor wanting to, he remains silent. The sorrow he felt when Honor died, the rage that overcame him when he faced another forsaken, all of that was useless and mute in the sight of death. That was a warrior’s final destination and nothing emphasizes that point harder than the Valkyries. Faced by that ultimate truth; the young man was engulfed by a feeling of helplessness. 

“Brynhildr… Perhaps the boy is mute.”

“Jest at him not … What is a Valkyrie without some sense of empathy?”


The exchange between the Valkyries should be frustrating, even infuriating, yet he has no strength to be mad or insulted.  There was no need for all of that, he simply chose to bear with it to the end. It was the least he could do. Only a slight flinch indicates he is paying attention to the movements of the leader of the Valkyries. Brynhildr comes with Honor's sword in her hands. She softly grabs his hand and places the weapon in his. Upon her touch his body quivers lightly, as if caressed by a loved one.

“He wished for you to have it. It is his final gift to you. May it serve you well, Siron Entrima.” 

As her face draws closer to him, the boy feels her breath. Warmth emanates from it, warmth he has never felt before. When her lips touch his forehead, it is a kiss filled with compassion and care. For him this is a kiss he has never had the chance to feel, the kiss of a mother. Lost in this warmth the knight complete relaxes and all his anger and sorrow are washed away. With his mind clear of heavy thoughts, he watches her go back to the departed’s body and they all disappear in a blinding light.

Straping the sword to his waist, Siron falls on one knee and bows deeply. He gives a final show of respect to his friend and mentor. For now this all he can do.  With renewd clarity he rushes towards his destination, determined to acomplish his task quickly and return to and aid his companions, as soon as possible.
An eye for two, a tooth for a jaw, a hair for a head! Fight to be respected!

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 5)
« Reply #39 on: February 25, 2014, 02:42:55 PM »
A mouse is relentless.  Even when Sembas's mundane senses fail him, Chico presses him further.  He follows his little friend to the patch of bushes by an entrance to the building.

Chico hollers, and Sembas readies his spear.  Electricity still arcs through the tip, having been charged earlier.  Anlaf circles above, flying in tighter spans than before.  As the Falconer draws closer, three shadows erupt from the bushes.  Each holds a poised throwing knife aimed directly at him.

His eyes narrow as the three shadowy Cowards rear back.  Instead of turning tail and allowing Navar to escape into the shadows once again, Sembas lunges forward.  (Strength - Athletics) With a wide spin of his spear, he attempts to knock the throwing knives out of the air.  Faile flies faster than any throwing knife, at least according to her she does.  His eyes are focused from practicing dodging her dives during training.  He should be able to judge well enough to bat away a couple of the incoming knives. 

Hopefully.

In the meantime, as soon as the three Cowards burst from the bushes, Anlaf enters a dive.  His charge from the Lightning Hawk spell still lingers as well.  As the three Navar's release their knives, Anlaf releases the lightning.  They are grouped close enough together that the bolts of electricity should arc through all three of them. 

Should the lightning hit its mark, Sembas is hoping that it will dispel the false Cowards.  If so, he will press on the one remaining.  If not, he will focus on the closest one, gambling that his choice is correct.