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Post by misttheelf on Aug 11, 2017 22:42:43 GMT -6
Jimmu let out a growl as he ducked beneath the large stallion's axe, grimacing as it clipped his neck. Dinah yelled at him, he heard his name, her voice, but he could not make out the words. So much happened, so fast.
The large stallion was distracted by something - Ah, one of his companions was hurt by their own weapon. The large stallion clearly had no interest in entertaining Jimmu's questions - and that Frustrated Jimmu. But he couldn't do anything about that. Dinah yelled again, and this time he heard her.
And he moved, activating the invisibility charm he had been given, and he looked to the slaves, seeing nearly all had been freed.
Then the large stallion moved towards them and started trying to recapture one.
Jimmu growled, charging towards him. He barreled into the large stallion, aiming to force him to release the mare.
Now, his priority was the would-be slaves. He could not allow someone to be recaptured. He wouldn't allow it.
It just wouldn't be right, to leave even one of them in chains.
word count:178
post 4
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Post by MusicalMagpie on Aug 12, 2017 21:24:46 GMT -6
Marshal | Raider
Marshal never closed his eyes. Though the left field of vision was fuzzy and red, the battle scarred raider never took his eyes off the barely visible target. He could only see the shape moving away followed by dirt and scraped earth. Couldn't tell what was what end. Had to assume the front was heading away first. Marshal mentally separated himself from the chaos while pulling back the lever. There was one target, fuck everyone else. Keeping what focus his sight had on the fleeting figure, the grey stallion wrenched himself to all four hooves and took a solid stance. Inhale. The crossbow was lifted level to Marshal's undamaged right eye. Hold. Dinah's shape had disappeared behind the cart and bodies, but he held his position and didn't blink.
Metal was breaking and slaves were running loose into the woods, but he could care less about the "cargo", this was personal now. How was he supposed to explain this one to Mai? He'd give his daughter a proper heart attack.
Marshal held still as more horses flitted out into the trees, still unblinking. Finally there was a whistle, not from his group, and a familiar shape lined in dust made a line for the trees. Staring down the sight at the moving horse, Marshal exhaled, and fired. His eyes burned from being open for so long and his lungs screamed as the held breath was released, but he didn't lower the crossbow until the bolt stopped. It had to have hit on the flank. Not lethal or really all that hindering, but sure to be a sore reminder later. As the freed slaves and vindicators vanished into the trees, Marshal lowered the crossbow and gave the scene a look. It was like a little league soccer match gone horribly wrong. His face hurt, his back hurt, and his bum hurt. At last, Marshal blinked his tired, bloodied eyes and sighed. "What the fuck."
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Word count- 324
dinah was invisible you can't prove he was staring at her ass |
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Post by LaBelleAnni on Aug 12, 2017 23:45:42 GMT -6
The clanking of chains banged in his ears, distracting the old horse from the fight. Enough was enough, and surely the others would have thought the same. Their cargo was being let loose, something he did not wish to allow. He let out a heavy breath, heaving his body to press on over to the cart as the chains rattled onto the ground. When he looked over, the sight to see was quite strange, especially with Bates' image being used. Trickery of image, it had to be. Nonetheless, he shook his head and pressed on towards the slaves.
Commands boomed out into the air from the youngest raider in the group, leaving Cyrus to ignore the blatant anger from his voice. If Bates hadn't stopped to talk to the enemy, perhaps this would have run more smoothly, while Marshal stood around like he was paralyzed in place, holding up his bow. Whatever he was aiming at, assuming it was one of the vagabonds, it didn't matter now. Slaves were getting away. One of them was captured by the massive stallion, while another split to run off into the woods. He arched his brow and ran as fast as he could to collect the cargo, moving to get in reach of the loose chains that clanked against the ground as the slave moved to run away. The poor fool was not fast enough, however. Cyrus caught up just enough to get a hold of the chains, grabbing onto them with his teke and coming to an immediate halt. "Freedom is the last thing you'll be seeing, slave." As he spoke, the chain yanked the equine onto their back, slamming hard against the ground. Surely Hira wouldn't be pleased with the lack of success in the mission, though it wasn't a complete failure. They managed to recapture a few slaves, still that wasn't enough to say that any of this was a success. "Get up, move it." Cyrus commanded in a gruff voice to the slave, stomping a hoof down near him to ensure they understood he was serious. Soon enough they were travelling back to the lost caravan, the slave in front with Cyrus in the back, holding his sword out for good measure.
The travel back to the caravan was sped up by the sight of action before him. Bates had recaptured a slave, though one of the Vagabonds still managed to fight. The poor dolt didn't know what he was getting himself into. Cyrus nipped at the side of the slave, forcing him to move quicker. He was a larger stallion, still though with the control of chains and bridle versus a sword being held to him, there wouldn't be a chance of him leaving. "Marshal, keep an eye on this one. Shoot him if he runs, and aim for a killing blow." The buckskin spoke loud enough for the slave especially to hear, to make sure there was no chance of him escaping again. It was a partial bluff, though if the stallion tried to escape again, he felt no remorse for the fool if he was killed.
As quickly as he could, he raced over to Bates' side, ramming his right shoulder into the vagabond's side. The fight needed to end now. Adrenaline was slowing down as he moved, allowing a burning sensation to clothe over the injury. Slightly he winced, but didn't back down just yet. Not yet. If only the Vagabond before them chose wisely.
Post #5 | WC: 579
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Post by Gaybies on Aug 13, 2017 9:26:55 GMT -6
M A T E O
War-Forged Ambassador
... ...
The Ambassador had held her position between the oncoming vindicator and the last small group of chained slaves, refusing to budge even as the other mare came barreling in her direction. With the duplicate at her side, she had little doubt that the two of them could handle her at her best; after all, the odds were in her favor. All this was well and good, until the vindicator mare revealed her particularly interesting blessing. Mateo twitched and shifted back in those split seconds as the mare launched herself forward and took on a shape that, to Mateo at least, was less than appealing. That great ball of gigantic, grey dappled hide came soaring towards her, with all his weight behind his image. She kept calm, long since mastering skills for quick thinking in such situations, even as all that weight, that weight that she had no doubt was capable of crushing her (Bates had always been quite large in her mind, after all) came angled towards her.
Her body ignited, flames coursing over every inch, just as the impact hit. She would stumble backwards, hooves digging into the dirt of the road as she was sent towards what she was aiming to protect, ultimately colliding with the small group of remaining chained slaves. They, too, would be off balanced and less capable of keeping their feet as the chains restricted such dramatic movements as required to catch themselves. The collapse was loud, bodies tumbling, pulled down by one after the other, chains rattling. It was comical, almost... if their futures didn’t depend on their ability to get free and all that. The rattling of other chains, as well as the sound of further scuffles between the raiders, the vindicators, and not the fleeing slaves sounded all around, but she’d be damned if she was the last one to have her group escape.
The brunt of the impact had struck her square in the chest, the wind had been knocked from her lungs, but still she stood her ground, though the burst of fire had simmered and now lingered only on her hooves. Her teasing aside, she turned to gaze at the stolen image of the raider, the vindicator in disguise. The duplicate, capable of acting on its own, had followed the impact of the two and now aimed flame lit hooves towards the vindicator’s side. All these blessings at once, fire, duplication, it wasn’t easy, and the sweat of exertion glimmered on her neck.
The whistle from the Vindicator’s leader, or who she assumed was the mastermind behind this whole ordeal, came loud and piercing, and the assailants started to scatter into the woods with a number of freed slaves in their midst.
... ... Word Count:454 Post 4 |
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Post by misttheelf on Aug 13, 2017 10:40:12 GMT -6
Jimmu grunted as another one of the raiders charged into him. A brown stallion, the one who had fought with Dinah earlier. This was starting to not look so good. "I will not allow you to take anyone to Aodh." He growled. His eyes were set as he stared at the two raiders. He couldn't get to the mare to help her. He would have to fight... Or try to stall. A few of the others were still there, and if the mare regained her breath, it would be easier to run. "For all I know, I was headed there with them when I was caught in an avalanche." He flattened his ears. If they attacked, he had to avoid them. Perhaps move around them towards the poor mare. If he can get her out of there, it would be better.
Even with the order to retreat having been sounded, he could not, no he would not allow them to take any of them to Aodh. And one on two, likely more experienced fighters, one of them quite larger than himself, was not a good fight... He could only hope that he was more agile than them.
Post 5
Word Count 197
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Post by RusticForrest on Aug 13, 2017 13:54:49 GMT -6
"Q"
[ Vagabond | Vindicator ]
The stallion before him wasted little time in his response, and Q's muscles clenched as he readied himself to fight, for fight he would. In the moment before the elder horse charged him, the Vindicator felt, as well as heard, Freya's call for aid, to keep the slavers distracted. A wild smile curled his lips. Oh, he could certainly do that. With a roar, Q returned the other horse's charge, aiming to ram into him, if he could manage to avoid the sword blazing with the teke of his foe. Though he had no weapon, fire lapped at his hooves, singing the grass as he ran, columns of smoke rising within his wake.
The sound of the chains distracted the two as Freya's ploy to free the slaves worked, and the two never met face-to-face. It was with an angry growl that Q allowed himself to be pulled away by Dinah's call. He watched as several slaves were recaptured, and he pulled up alongside two younger horses, their eyes wide and frantic. "Stay close to me," he hissed, casting flame behind him at any who dared to threaten the lives of the horses they had managed to free. Disgusted by it all, a deep frown remained carved into his scarred countenance. Casting an eye upwards to see the owl, Oren, he checked their course, and continued to herd the two would-be-slaves onwards.
Post: 3
WC: 235
*feel free to shoot after Q, I wouldn't be opposed of he took an arrow to the knee* |
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Post by Mad-Manx on Aug 14, 2017 13:40:16 GMT -6
Eshana | Mare | Vindicator
Eshana's eyes widened as the flames came to engulf her opponent, emanating from the very body that she found herself careening towards. The impact hit as hard as she had hoped, the dappled mare being sent flying backwards several steps. It opened up enough room to move, though now several new problems had sprung up. Her shoulder that had bore the brunt of the attack burned like hell, and with a snort of alarm she realized it had quite literally been lit on fire. Smoke curled upwards into her nostrils, and with fear in her eyes she sprung forward, weaving past her stunned enemy. Only one task mattered now. With a firm strike from her oversized hooves, the chains bent and groaned under her attack, giving away with a loud clank. Yet, it would seem her victory was short-lived as Eshana realized the majority of her targets were on the ground, sent sprawling from her opponent's fall. The most fleet footed of them may still find their freedom, but with dismay Eshana knew there was little left that she could do for them. Her shoulder was a priority, the burning flames stripping away fur from flesh, and with an impending sense of urgency she returned to her natural body all the while throwing herself to the ground. A cloud of dust followed in her wake, and though the impact forced her to grit her teeth to prevent a screeching cry from escaping her lips, it was a successful manoeuvre. The fire that had clung to her side was extinguished, leaving only smoke and an throbbing pain in it's absence. A mixture of pain and utter anger filled her eyes as she rose to her hooves, facing the offending mare and her duplicate with flattened ears and bared teeth. A piercing whistle suddenly struck her ears, and Eshana knew then it was time to go. Her comrades would be fleeing, and she was greatly outnumbered with the two identical horses staring her down. Silently she willed the slaves she had attempted to aid to scramble to their feet, and that some might find their freedom either with the Vindicators or elsewhere. For now, this was all she could do to them; she would be of use to no one dead. Leaping forward once more as though to charge her opponent, Eshana suddenly activated the necklace around her neck, flickering from existence in a blink of an eye. Feinting to the side, she vaulted away, intending to disappear once more into the forest from which they came. Post 4 :: 425 words |
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Post by Gaybies on Aug 14, 2017 21:01:48 GMT -6
M A T E O
War-Forged Ambassador
......
The tumbled slaves, though some of their chains had given way, stumbled and scrambled towards escape, but few managed to regain their feet. As the panic onset, the knowledge that this was their last chance for freedom drove them further into the clutches of disorder and only a few of the tumbled group was able to successfully join the other fleeing slaves. Most, with legs wrapped and tangled in chain and in those of their fellows, simply strained against the messy mass of bodies.
Mateo watched as the mare who had charged her burned, watched as the flesh of her shoulder was crisped by Ignacio’s fire. She watched as the mare leapt forward, tensed for an impact, but saw as she disappeared into nothingness. Just like that, just like her comrades, she was gone. The Ambassador, feeling the threat was gone, turned her attention to the remaining slaves, her duplicate quickly helping her to circle around and keep them stationary. Their chains had been broken, sure, but they would not have their freedom this day.
Once the slaves had been secured, she would turn and call for her bird and that god awful ghost dog and, hopefully, her son who had been hiding out safely in the trees the last time she had seen him. She probably shouldn’t have left him to his own devices, but... he was War Forged, right? And this had been a good learning experience... though she’d honestly wished that they could’ve just made the trip back home to Valore without incident. The Gytrash, sensing the danger passed, gave one last long look and disappeared into the mists again, but Santiago would come to rest on the Ambassador’s back awkwardly as he sought to keep his claws from hurting her.
Her hooves still blazed with flame, a mild threat to any of the remaining slaves that might still make a break for it. She’d turn her gaze on those who remained... the raiders and so on. At least... it seemed, it was almost over.
... ... Word Count:338 Post 5 |
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Post by LaBelleAnni on Aug 14, 2017 21:43:08 GMT -6
With the mass of the larger draft, his body rammed into the stallion without the amount of force he had hoped for. Nonetheless, the heathen needed to be stopped for the sake of the Forged. All the other enemies had escaped with a band of slaves, sounding off with clanking in the distance. In the end it was a loss, though not completely. The gray stallion babbled on about being in an avalanche, and whatever the information meant to him or Bates, it meant nothing to Cyrus. Alas, without fighting, he moved past the two raiders, heading towards the lone slave, wrapped with a rope around her neck and stunned from such harsh blows that Bates threw at her. Though the Vagabond was large, he was not as fast as he surely would have liked to be.
Cyrus threw himself into a sprint, wincing slightly as the pain of his injury scorched his right shoulder. Even through the pain, he could not stop until the job was done. With a glance around the area, he spotted the other slave, making sure to check up on him. The poor soul was terrified, and avoided eye contact with the raider. Once more he brought his eyes back to the task at hand, warding away the Digend-loving trash from the last of their cargo. Thankfully his agility and speed gave him an advantage to the larger equine. He rushed ahead, drawing his sword and swiping down to the legs to slow the Vagabond down. Then, he moved to stand in front of the mare, roughly grabbing the rope that gripped at her neck. "One more step and you will move alongside this slave with your freedom stripped from you." During the statement, he raised his sword up, threatening the stallion to force him to back off. All the others had scampered off, and while his heart was set on murdering the little Digend-lovers, his focus had to stick with the mission, no matter how much he dreaded watching them run off without so much as one of them bleeding on the ground, awaiting the gods' judgment on their damned soul.
The fight overall came to a close, and surely they would have to pack up and continue on their journey soon enough. His pupils burned with a desire to end the stallion's futile life then and there, yet he forced himself to hold back, regretting every second of it. The graying draft held his own fate before the caravan and the gods, and if he chose poorly, it would quite literally be his own funeral.
WC: 432 | Post #6
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Post by misttheelf on Aug 14, 2017 21:59:58 GMT -6
Jimmu let out a growl of irritation, dodging the sword, but pausing in his tracks. Hm. That was something he hadn't felt in a long while. "I'll return to Kaia's earth before I allow myself to be captured... You damn bastard," he growled out at the gray stallion, his ears pinned back. "So may her earth slow your steps away from here." And he turned, and started to run.
As he ran, tears fell from his left eye.
He cursed his inability to save that one mare.
He cursed the strange, familiar stallion.
He cursed the other raiders.
He was upset.
And it was strange.
For twenty long years, nothing like this had happened to him, before.
But now... Who had that large stallion been to him, before the avalanche? Before he lost his memory?
This was at the forefront of his mind as he fled the battle.
Why had that stallion triggered this response from him?
Jimmu was confused. And conflicted.
And curious.
And that was dangerous.
But for now, he couldn't afford to die. Not with new questions.
And he ran.
Post 6
Word Count 183
**Feel free to shout after jimmu or send something after him as he flees idc as long it's non-lethal**
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Post by songsofinfinity on Aug 15, 2017 19:32:06 GMT -6
L O R E N C I O War-Forged | Kindling Lorencio watched the battle in shock. He'd never seen a fight like this, not even on the ship with the pirate captain. It was so quick and loud! The sound of hooves striking on the road and other horses, the clash of weapons, lots of shouting! His ears flickered, trying to catch all the sounds, then he pinned them back. If only he was big enough to help!
The spotted mare fought two stallions, then turned invisible. One of the stallions - Marshal? - was hurt, but Lorencio didn't see what happened. All his attention was focused on his mom, who was fighting the grey unicorn. Go, mom, go! he shouted at her, urging her to defend herself. The fight didn't seem to last too long, and the dust kicked up on the road hid them from view a bit, but Lorencio could still see the shapes.
Suddenly they were different. The grey mare disappeared and in her place stood a huge stallion who looked just like Bates! Lorencio jumped at that, and Scorch, reacting to him, growled low in her furry throat. How could his mom beat such a huge horse?
Then his mom burst into flames and he stopped wondering.
She'd gotten so strong! Last time she'd only been able to set other things on fire. Now she could go all up in flames! He would've laughed and congratulated her if there hadn't been a huge fight all around him.
It seemed to be ending, though. Vindicator-Bates vanished like her leader, hopefully running off. The other attacking horses started taking off, most of the slaves running with them. A few stayed, but not a whole lot. As the attackers disappeared down the road or into the woods Lorencio poked his head out of the forest. Scorch, ever unshakable, trotted out and sat in the middle of the road, panting and proud as punch, as if she'd chased off the intruders herself. Lorencio snorted. Then, seeing that the danger had passed, he ran out onto the road and over to his mom.
"Mom, that was amazing! You really showed that horse." He smiled now, the fear and concern quickly fading. His mom would protect him if anything happened, just like she always had.
Word Count: 387 | Post Count: 3 |
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2017 18:17:24 GMT -6
congratulations! As the Vindicators retreated into the mist, the would-be slaves in tow, silence reclaimed the woods around the War Lord's road. The raiders and their ambassador charge gather their supplies (and, in Mateo's case, their child) after the fight, taking inventory of what was stolen. They continue to Valore without further interruption, though somewhat empty-handed, and the Raiders left Mateo to her diplomatic post. They returned to Onea after delivering their ambassador, a journey mostly wasted. The Vindicators return to camp victorious, the terrified gaggle of newly-freed slaves in tow. Once fed, the lot will be delivered to Ike at the Kingfisher Inn to take refuge; in the meantime, the Vindicators treat their valiant wounded, and prepare a feast with what meager rations they have. Success is hard-won for the Vindicators these days, and worth celebrating. All participants receive 20 AP and 20 CS! |
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