|
|
Post by songsofinfinity on Dec 26, 2017 13:59:18 GMT -6
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | VindicatorIthran walked around the camp, helping where he was needed but never attaching himself to one particular job. Eventually, once most of the work was done, he found himself with the rest of the War-Forged horses around the roaring fire. He pulled some supplies out of his pack, including some travel rations, and settled in to listen to the conversations around the fire. Nothing much was going to happen tonight, in all likelihood, but if any important discussions were to happen, they would happen or at least start near the fire.
Bates and another horse had lit up cigars, but Redcrosse wasn't a fan of the taste of smoke. Instead, he listened as the conversation shifted from the coming war to the intricacies of fighting on sand. Ithran had been to Serora once before, many years ago, but Redcrosse was War-Forged through and through and had never left his homeland.
"Way I figure, can't be so different from walking on snow. Sure it'll move funny under your feet but you still gotta keep an eye on where you're stepping, same as if you're watching for ice or those big drifts you can get stuck in." As he spoke, Ithran looked around once more to see if he could spot Eshana. He'd caught a glimpse of a unicorn among the Chevaliers who looked quite like her, but he obviously couldn't assume anything. Best to focus on getting information from the War-Forged and let Eshana handle her own job anyway. He knew she was more than capable; still, he worried. Post Count: 2 | Word Count: 296
|
|
|
|
Post by ThatDenver on Jan 1, 2018 2:28:00 GMT -6
NIKOLAS
Nikolas watched as one of the scout’s caught up to Beyond, clearly angry about the whistling. They weren’t quite loud enough to make out exact words, but he could catch tone, and their body language told the rest. His ears pressed against his neck, and he gave a sideways glance to the red sabino mare whom he kept pace with – this was certainly not the right time to make enemies. Their methods were different, that much was obvious, and he wasn’t sure whose side to take in this, so he didn’t take any. Nikolas had never been good at such things, he preferred to let others make the executive decisions.
With the scout now taking the lead, and Beyond allowing him to catch up a little, Nikolas tried to match his strides with hers. He quickly looked at the spot where she had been standing, but decided it was nothing to worry about – just some natural softness of the earth, nothing suspicious.
Nikolas kept his eyes on the surroundings, eyes peering into the unknown. He supposed he should have been better at tracking, being a slaver’s boy from the countryside, but that side of things had never really appealed to him all that much. He’d know the footsteps of a horse if he saw one, the markings a horse left in the woods and so, but he certainly wouldn’t be trailing any game.
“You were in Serora with the Envoy, weren’t you?” he questioned Beyond. He remembered something like that – maybe it had come up in some briefing or just general talk around the barracks.
It was good to have experienced people.
“I’ve been to these parts a couple times, with merchants”, Nikolas mentioned to her, not particularly expecting a reply. Although he was clearly talking to Beyond – and perhaps to the red sabino on the side – he didn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes firmly to the horizon, his ears twisting this way and that after each sound.
“Feels different when you have more to worry about than just Vagabonds”, he added, now more to himself. Indeed, the vastness of Sirith had not seemed so intimidating on his previous visits. It was unnervingly open, wild. It would be easy to get lost there, if one of them lost track of the military convoy.
Word count: 385
Post #3
|
|
|
|
Post by Queerly on Jan 1, 2018 13:07:28 GMT -6
EVENT!Your supply line has been marching south at a steady pace, and soon you will clear the forest that peppers the Eithnian-Sirith border to rendezvous with the rest of the Aodhian army, awaiting you on the open plain. You doubt that you will see enemies before you reach the Sedo grasslands, but as a soldier you are always aware… or, should be. Unfortunately, being so close to your homeland has put even your captains at an ill advised ease. As you march alongside the wagons that carry a vital supply line, something moves in the trees, and before you have time to react you are under attack.
Vagabonds! Raiding thieves spill from their hiding places, intent on looting your supplies and killing anyone in their way. Fight them off and protect the caravan at all costs - it’s vital to the army’s success. Use the Gameplay Guide and stats linked below to save the supply line before it is too late. COMMUNICATION IS CRUCIAL. Use the chat on Discord to get a plan together with your teammates for posting and the best way to go ahead!
Liri, Fox, Nikolas, Alvane, Beyond, Uther - you will be moving plots shortly!
|
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on Jan 7, 2018 4:00:24 GMT -6
Eshana Chazona
vagabond | vindicator
aodh | chevalier
"Strong but exhausted."
Post: #2 | Word Count: 531
Current Form: Here Silence stretched long amidst the group, only broken as the warriors gathered about the fire, chatting idly amongst themselves. Eshana found herself working diligently alongside the Raiders and Chevaliers alike, aiding in the set up of the camp as she quietly took in the conversation, discreetly pivoting ears processing any valuable information uttered.
The usage of her blessing was taking it's toll on her. Since the sun had risen, Eshana had been careful to keep track of the hours she spent outside of her regular form, and while she had not yet neared her limit, the continual usage of the blessing still wore on her. Weariness plagued her form, and once completed with her tasks, she crept near the fire, this time daring to settle near Ithran. Dark had fallen to consume the land, and although they had acquired frustrating little on their selected targets' plans, she would be forced to return to her true form before the sun rose. With warrants out for her arrest, this was certainly not a time to test the capabilities of the Chevalier's memories. Still, with so little information obtained for her report to Dinah, Eshana couldn't help but wish something would break the persistent petulance of the group.
Mere seconds later, she would come to regret that thought.
Like a storm finally breaking, shouts arose from the camp in a cacophony of sound as the thieves poured from the woods. Instantly, Eshana found herself springing to her hooves, the dagger she kept at her side singing as it sprung from it's sheath. Teeth bared at the sudden threat, Eshana's head whipped about as she attempted to assess the situation, striving to bring some order to the chaos. Four, no, five enemies? It was near impossible to count as lithe bodies darted about, engaging not the Raiders and Chevaliers, but immediately swarming around the supplies they carried. A heavy thud and shriek of pain slammed her back to reality, and Eshana's head shot towards the sound. In their pursuit of goods, the thieves had managed to push a wagon onto its side; trapping the Chevalier captain beneath the heavy wood. As much as she hated the Chevaliers, even Eshana could not bring herself to leave the mare to die.
Weaving about the lunging bodies, Eshana sprung towards the upturned caravan. It was surprisingly easy with the vegabonds' attention occupied elsewhere, and within moments she appeared at Piko's side.
"Try and stay still for a moment," Eshana shouted above the din, grunting as she positioned herself next to the wagon.
It was heavy alright, but not enough so to completely exceed her abilities. The captain quieted down as she had requested, breath no doubt driven from her lungs by the crushing weight of the wagon. Forcing her shoulder into the rough wood, all the while heaving with her pulsing blue teke, Eshana managed to lift the caravan a few inches. The moment the weight was released from her chest, Piko scrambled away from the oppressing wagon, leaping to her hooves almost instantaneously. Eshana allowed the wagon to fall with another heavy thud, sweat already forming along her coat as she wildly looked around at the scene unfolding.
Game Post: #1
ESHANA used 25 STRENGTH - ESHANA now has 75 STRENGTH
PIKO is FREED
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2018 19:27:09 GMT -6
The stallion's brow rose as Icabod spoke of the gods, how Serora seemed to be lacking theirs. His eyes rolled as he looked back to the fire, a puff leaving his nostrils in swirling smoke. He was all for having a decent conversation, but he lost interest the moment celestial beings were brought up. The gods werent the ones here fighting, they were. He had no interest in discussing their intentions.
"Just dont get in over your head." He mumbled quietly, not caring if his voice was heard or not.
His gaze flickered to a chevalier as she settled beside the fire, but his attention didnt linger long. His eyes focused on the fire, the dancing of the flame mesmerizing. However, the brief moment of peace did not last long. His small ears sprung forward at the sound of rustling in the trees, to which he pulled himself to his hooves as a quick head count proved that there were strangers about. It could be the scouts, but Gulliver could have sworn they went in the opposite direction.
A sudden cluster of shouts rang from the trees as thieves poured from their hiding places quicker than the medic could count. However, as the thieves were targeting their wagons, Gulliver locked eyes with the burning red gaze of a canine in a ghostly form.
However, it did not last long, as the Gytrash turned its attention onto another from the group that was closer to him, and not paying attention. Gritting his teeth together, Gulliver grabbed one of the burning logs from the edge of the fire, its blaze only lit on the top.
"Hey!" He shouted, waving the fire as he stepped closer to the shadowy wolf. "Over here, you stupid mutt!" The Gytrash turned its attention back to him, sharp teeth showing in a snarl. Gulliver's ears pressed back, his hooves taking him back a step.
He was getting too old for this.
-25 Agility |
|
|
|
Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 7, 2018 20:11:01 GMT -6
w
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | Vindicator Ithran was interrupted in the middle of another comment about varying consistencies of snow by shouts and the sound of splintering wood. In an instant he was on the alert, spinning away from the fire and the horses standing there and whipping his sword out of its sheath. It took him a painful moment of fumbling with the straps before he could get the shield free and at the ready.
A few feet away Francis, one of the chevaliers, was being attacked by a vagabond. Ithran's first instinct was to back off. He didn't want to support either of them.
In the end it was Redcrosse who made him jump in. With a wild shout he launched himself at the huge brown stallion, shield before him. The horse glanced at him, then slid back a few paces. He was carrying a battle axe, and Ithran wasn't eager to be caught by that thing.
As he advanced toward the stallion one of the supply wagons was shoved against another, which had burst into flames. The stallion didn't spare it a glance, but Ithran began angling him towards it and the corner it created. If he could trap the stallion, maybe Francis or one of the other Chevaliers would be able to land a killing blow.
As he crept forward, head low, he swung his sword at the stallion menacingly. The horse didn't react well to that and tried to charge him, swinging the axe in a wide, powerful swing directly at Francis.
"Francis, watch out!" Ithran caught the blow with his sword, though it nearly knocked him off his feet. He shoved his way closer to the stallion, then, with a hard shove of his shield, moved him back. The horse nearly fell, stumbling backwards into the burning wagon. With Ithran and Francis in front of him and burning wagons behind, he was trapped. Post Count: 3 | Word Count: 359
Ithran has used 25 agility
-25 agility for Ithran |
|
|
|
Post by foreignblackjack on Jan 15, 2018 0:15:52 GMT -6
The suddenness of the attack for the moment, caught Wulff off guard. But moments following that, he was on his feet, picking up the first available weapon and charged into the throng, doing his very best to avoid getting himself hurt or worse. He let that train of thought go by unchecked and promised himself that once this whole thing was over, he could brood on his lack of alertness. He couldn't believe that it had happened. Where were the scouts? Why was there no warning? He grunted as he parried his sword against a vagabond and pushed forward, looking for the next opponent to take on. As he avoided getting trampled upon by his comrads he heard a roaring through the clash of steel. He took his eyes off for a moment to find the noise, seeing the saber tooth tiger still trapped in her cage. He was a distance from her, and her immediate affects would far out weigh reprimand from his superior. If he let her out, she would be of great help in the long run.
So that was what he did, moving amid the fighting, having to pause to shove someone out of the way before crossing over to the cage. Seeing the cage being caught, he dropped his sword and put his shoulder to the mass on top of it and started getting it off with haste. It felt like an age before he had it clear and got the cage open. He looked at the tiger for a brief moment, guaging her reaction for a split second before nodding and heading back into the fighting with a roar.
Wulff used 25 Strength
Wulff now has 25 Strength
Mira is Freed
Post 4
|
|
|
|
Post by Callousal on Jan 15, 2018 15:31:34 GMT -6
 tagged: Ithran. Francis. 212 words Chaos.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. No warning was given and the scouts were nowhere to be found, their presence replaced by thieves; bloody rats.
Bates fumbled with his cigar for a moment, caught off-guard before sprinting to the closest weapon available and heaving the heavy war hammer onto his shoulder. The stallion watched as the maggots crawled out of the forest, their eyes set on their caravan, slowly yet steadily advancing.
Though his attention turned to a sudden shout, it was Redcrosse, standing protectively in front of a Chevalier, cornered by one of the thieves. Bates hastily trudge over as fast as he could, his hammer at his side as he curled his telekinesis backward, unwinding a terminal blow to the stallion’s cranium with a primal shout. His eyes followed his body as it landed with a resounding thud, allowing his hammer to come down onto the stallion’s head once more for good measure.
Bates turned to Redcrosse and Francis, giving them a nod before instinctively placing himself between the cargo and the vagabonds, surveying the area for a moment as the rest of his company engaged with the lowlanders. His nostrils flared in unbridled fury, frustration even, these damned dullards never seemed to learn their lesson.
|
|
|
|
Post by Superior-Caesar on Jan 15, 2018 18:19:07 GMT -6
IcabodIcabod had just started to settle out of the conversation, when it seemed as though all hell broke loose. Somehow, a group of vagabonds had managed to attack him. He barely had tine to take in the scene, before he sprang to his hooves ready for action. He quickly pulled his war axe into his silver teke and ran for the nearest threat.
Gulliver had been distracting a gytrash, which was not to far from him. Icabod galloped straight toward the creature. His hooves slammed into the gytrash as soon as he closed the distance. The beast was momentarily knocked off its feet, giving the raider the briefest of moments to think up a plan. He prepared his axe for a fatal swing, but the gytrash leapt at him. It got a few good bites in, but so did Icabod. When he finally managed to shake it off, he took his chance. His axe swung with the full might of his strength. The sight afterwards wasn't the prettiest, to say the least. But, at least the threat had been dealt with. Icabod was panting and could already feel the sweat forming. His gaze shifted to Gulliver. "You alright?" He asked before scanning for the next place to help out.
Word Count: 209
Post: 4
Vitality 50 ->25 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2018 18:46:18 GMT -6
The Gytrash's gaze bore into Gulliver's soul, his eyes reflecting the dancing fire. It was.. haunting, to say the least. Gulliver was used to being around wildlife, predators included, at his home in solitary; but it was almost as if him and nature had an agreement. They leave him alone and he leaves them alone. He had never been face to face with one that wanted to.. eat him.
However, he was not going to let himself be intimidated. Swinging the flaming log, he took a step forward to force the shadowy creature back. Just as he was about to take a swing at it, a raider launched himself at the mutt. Gulliver took a step back, watching as Icabod swung his axe, taking the beast down swiftly. Dropping the log back on the fire, the smell of blood filling his nostrils. He gave a nod as Icabod asked if he was alright, opening his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of a roar and metal clanking.
Turning his attention to one of the carts, he found the chevalier's dragon locked in his cage, swiping large claws at a vagabond that was attempting to stab the creature through the bars. Taking in a deep breath, he narrowed his brow, targeting the vagabond. Gulliver wasn't big on pets, but dragons were helpful in a time of war.
Digging his hooves into the ground, he launched himself toward the vagabond, slamming his shoulder into the other's side and tackling them to the ground. He felt a pain shoot through his shoulder as he tried to pin the vagabond to the ground. He was going to regret this in the morning.
-25 Strength | +25 Agility |
|
|
|
Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 15, 2018 19:23:59 GMT -6
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | VindicatorIthran whipped to the side as Bates came barreling through. Thank goodness. He hadn't wanted to have to finish off that stallion by himself. Sword still at the ready he backed away from the burning wagons and took a moment to gather himself together, his breathing harsh. He let his shield drop, trusting to his reflexes should he need it again.
The camp had descended into chaos in a terrifyingly short time. Gulliver and Icabod were fighting a gytrash, and one of the Chevaliers – they looked oddly familiar – had freed a trapped horse. Ithran narrowed his eyes. That grey coat, that long tail... that was definitely Eshana. He took a deep breath, relieved to have located her, and looked around the camp, taking stock of the rest of the fight.
Several of the attacking vagabonds had gone for the supplies, and for an instant Ithran was back in his childhood, memories of robbing travelers strong in his memory. That moment passed quickly, though. These horses were not starving children. They were, while not completely well-fed, formidable, battle-ready opponents.
A grey mare flashed past in front of him, long spear held at the ready as she started pulling supplies out of an as-yet-undamaged wagon. Ithran raised his shield and moved to stop her, but found himself hesitating. What stock did he have in this fight? It would help the Vindicators if these supplies were damaged and stolen. The more difficult this war, the better for everyone who didn't want to fight (which Ithran suspected was quite a large number of horses).
So he stood by and watched. At least, until the mare turned to him, a pack on her back full of supplies from the wagon, and charged, spear lowered. With a shocked shout he leapt to the side, shield deflecting the brunt of the attack. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough to dodge the hoof she threw at him as she passed. He caught the blow full in the flank and it cut deeply into his side, making him stumble awkwardly. The grey mare smiled and gave a mocking laugh as blood rushed in Ithran's ears, heart pounding. She turned and lunged at him again, and this time he knocked her spear aside with his longsword.
He charged her, sword swinging low and wide to avoid hitting the spear, and scored a long cut on her flank as she, unprepared for his resistance, failed to block. Part of him still wanted to let her get away with the goods, but he couldn't be seen stepping aside now he'd been attacked. He focused on the fight, planting his hooves and holding his sword and shield ready to block and then return whatever she tried to throw at him. Post Count: 4 | Word Count: 491
-25 Strength for Ithran
Ithran now has 90 strength |
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on Jan 15, 2018 19:37:08 GMT -6
Eshana Chazona
vagabond | vindicator
aodh | chevalier
"Strong but exhausted."
Post: #3 | Word Count: 293
Current Form: Here There was no time to pause, no time to think as the thieves swarmed from the confines of the forest. Bodies surged around her, metal greeting metal in a dissonant song as individuals met each other in close combat, Raiders and Chevaliers alike having now joined forces to defend their precious cargo. Eshana's eyes darted about, seeking out Ithran to where he was engaged in battle with one of the vegabonds, joined swiftly by the Raider she recognized from her last mission.
The scent of blood soon joined into the jumble of sounds and scents, and Eshana snorted uneasily as the metallic smell assaulted her nostrils. There were worst things to happen to the Vindicators than the Aodhian supply chain being interrupted, but even still she was not fond of the death that inevitably accompanied it. Withdrawing to the edge of the fray as she watched the fights break out, a new, guttural screech snapped her attention back to the line of wagons.
Springing to action, she darted to the nearby wagon, where one of the Chevalier's apparent pet pygmy dragon was straining to break from its cage. A small plume of flame erupting from the beast's mouth had her reeling back for a moment before Eshana succeeded in stealing her nerves, rushing forward to fiddle with the metal door. The thief had managed to slice dents into the bars and lock, making it difficult to open and, with a frustrated growl, Eshana reared and slammed her hooves into the uncooperative lock. With a crack the metal bent under her hoof, the door partially swinging open; enough for the trapped dragon to pry themselves from their cage. Ducking as the pygmy dragon shot from their decimated cage, Eshana watched as they joined the defence.
Game Post: #9
ESHANA used 25 STRENGTH - ESHANA now has 50 STRENGTH
SCORCH is FREED
|
|
|
|
Post by NovelNoctuary on Jan 16, 2018 15:59:17 GMT -6
RYLAN War Forged // Raider // 20hh
There had been an uncomfortably oppressive heat to the air in the early hours of the afternoon, cloudless turquoise sky ablaze with songbirds and sunlight. Now, in the early hours of the night, there was a bleak chill. Their campsite had become thick and dark with shadows cast by the murky expanse of timber to its left, so that even those with keen sight would have trouble discerning what lay beyond the nearest stretch of broad, twisted, leafy trees. The fire that danced at the heart of their overnight fortification, circled by soldiers and scouts who talked in low voices about the coming war, did not glow bright enough to pierce its haze of gloom, though Rylan - dozing beneath the light of a hundred thousand gleaming stars - could just differentiate sapling from underbrush.
A gentle sigh fluttered past his nostrils. He could not see his comrades or their bonfire (Gulliver's handywork), having situated himself so that he had a scopic view of the dimly-lit forest through a row of pikes instead. His damaged eye, shifting restlessly beneath its closed lid, was a painful reminder of the consequences that carelessness could reap. His head ached with worry. His body ached with fatigue. Sleep continued to skirt the edges of his troubled mind despite this, circling just out of reach. He breathed out a second sigh, eye trained on the shadowed-cloaked coppice to one side. The dissonant chorus of crickets that rolled across Sirith like an ocean wave (and the piercing silence of the woods, which unsettled him for reasons he could not fathom) were more than enough to keep him awake.
An uneventful moment passed him by, moonlight cool against his skin. Another followed suit, and another, and another, until he felt silly for his reluctance to rest.
That was when he heard it: the whisper of foliage disturbed by movement, the low rasp of fur against leather, the unmistakable clamor of weapons. His blood surged white-hot in his veins, adrenaline like molten metal beneath his skin. A fierce battlecry spilled from his throat -- and then the tide was upon him, bodies cascading like a river from the trees that he had been so determined to watch. He slid his broadsword, Frostbite, free of its scabbard, swinging it in a wide arc as Vagabonds swelled around him. Chaos unfolded in their wake like the petals of a scarlet flower; there was no structure, no order, just the savage press of bodies and the brutal clash of weapons and the hot spray of blood as steel met steel, as foe met foe, as peace met war. Rylan roared, teeth flashing savagely behind his lips. The sound of battle was his lullaby.
He set upon the fellow closest to him without hesitation. Lithe, black, with eyes like swamp-water and a dagger the length of his head, the scrawny little Vagabond had taken to wrenching valuable supplies from one of several wagons and stuffing them into an excessive array of packs, sacks, and satchels. His impudence was astounding. Alarming, even. It was not surprising in the least, however, and Rylan descended upon the fool like an avalanche while he rummaged about their stockpile, bringing Frostbite down with all his strength. The blade sang in his grip, eager for blood, and then sank deep into layers of --
Soil. Grass, and soil.
The son of a bitch was slicker than an eel, and twice as cunning. Rylan wrenched his broadsword free with moments to spare, pivoting clumsily as the thief's dagger sliced clean through what would have been his throat; a vicious snarl spilled from his lips. It was about then that the stench reached his nostrils, and his eyes began to water. Tears blurred his vision. What in the seven hells --
Metal flashed, catching the silver glow of the moon. He leapt away from a second lethal blow. I can't fucking see. The world had gone fuzzy, colors melting together through a lens of tears. His lungs heaved. The odor was nearly palpable. I have one fucking eye and I can't fucking see! The stallion moved. Rylan moved with him, weapons at the ready, but he struggled to track the man's erratic path; he scored an easy slice through the flesh of Rylan's chest as a result. Think. Think. Think. If my eyes are useless... Rylan lifted Frostbite on instinct, and their blades collided with a sound like the peal of thunder. I don't need to use them. A hysteric laugh spilled from his mouth as he shut both eyes, plunging into darkness; fear shivered in his bones. Focus. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the Vagabond's miserable stench. His ears flicked and twitched atop his head. Three O' clock! Twist, parry, swing. His war hammer met resistance in the Vagabond's side, knocking him to the ground. He touched down with a grunt and then rolled to avoid the business end of Rylan's sword. Moments later, his mouth found Rylan's shoulder, teeth sawing through flesh and muscled while the Raider worked to dislodge his weapon from the earth once again. Rylan took the bite without flinching. A nibble was childsplay -- it was the slicey, stabby shit he had to avoid.
"If I were you," he rumbled, lashing out with a hoof the size of a dinner plate, "I would keep my distance." There was an oof as he found his mark. The Vagabond danced just out of reach, his breath coming in gasps that Rylan could hear well above the din of battle; he had to be hurting. A solid blow was enough to make most foes wary, particularly when the horse who had given it was a veritable mountain of muscle. Two sent cowards fleeing with their tails between their legs.
This thief was no coward.
He stood his ground, and Rylan soon lost himself to the thrill of the fight, his ears straining as he trading hits without the use of his eyes.
Rylan DISTRACTED Will for -25 Wisdom.
He now has 25 Wisdom.
---
Word Count: 991
Post: 4
|
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on Jan 16, 2018 20:18:45 GMT -6
Eshana Chazona
vagabond | vindicator
aodh | chevalier
"Strong but exhausted."
Post: #4 | Word Count: 392
Current Form: Here Sides heaving from the effort of freeing the two individuals, Eshana allowed herself to retreat once again to the fringe of the camp, dagger gripped at the ready as her eyes scanned across the battlefield. Overturned supply wagons formed an outer ring to the encampment, essential items strewn about as the thieves scrambled to greet their opposition with drawn weapons. Her mind whirled as she once again sought out her comrade, eyes searching for the familiar seal bay coat that served as Ithran's disguise.
With growing alarm, Eshana watched as the silver mare turned to charge him, spear lowered threateningly before her. He blocked the brunt of the attack with ease, but even from her position it was impossible to miss the streak of red that blossomed as his opponent's hoof sliced through the skin of his flank. Needing no further prompting, Eshana bolted forward, careening
towards the mare as she prepared for another attack. Focus turned almost exclusively to Ithran, it was no difficult feat for Eshana to lunge forward, slamming into the silver mare and throwing her wildly off balance.
Within a moment her form began to morph, rose grey coat giving away to the pale colour of Wulff's. It was always an odd sensation to feel her body shift to give away to a form that was not her own, but Eshana had no time to contemplate the blessings' affects as she turned to face her silver opponent. The mare recovered her feet surprisingly quick, expression turned downwards into a sneer as her gaze flickered between the two stallions standing before her. Eshana took advantage of her indecisiveness to dart forward, parrying a blow with her dagger. The close combat assault required quick hooves, and not for the first time she was left thanking Argus' for his gift as she danced around the silver mare, stepping just out of reach of the flashing spear. Even still, her swift opponent managed to land a light blow to her hind leg, and with the new sting driving her into action, Eshana struck out.
With a well timed wrench, the spear flew from her enemy's grasp, Eshana slamming a hoof down upon it to prevent it being retrieved. Bristling as she stared down the thief, she paused then, half hoping the mare would declare herself outmatched and retreat.
Game Post: #11
ESHANA used Changeling
(WULFF) ESHANA used 75 SPEED - (WULFF) ESHANA now has 50 SPEED
WISP is DISARMED
|
|
|
|
Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 16, 2018 23:31:50 GMT -6
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | VindicatorThe mare was too fast for him. Her spear, as silver as her coat, whipped through the air like forked lightning. Again, Ithran leapt aside, launching himself away from her in a last-ditch attempt to avoid another strike from her. The sting from the wound in his side wasn't bad, but it was no help to him. He raised his shield again, sending a quick prayer to Kaia that he manage to defeat this mare before she hurt him.
Just then, Eshana charged into his line of sight and slammed into the mare, knocking her to the side and nearly sending her off her hooves. What followed was like poetry. Eshana shifted into one of the War-Forged horses, the one called Wulff, and with that weight attacked the mare. Armed with nothing but a knife she disarmed the thief, knocking the spear aside and standing on it to prevent its retrieval. Ithran was struck speechless, longsword tipping to the side as he let himself be distracted by Eshana's speed and surprising ferocity. She didn't escape uninjured, but the blow to her leg didn't seem too serious. Still it made his his heart jump and he launched back into action.
In one motion he leapt forward and swung his longsword down on the now-unarmed horse, beating her back and back until she toppled over onto her side. Ithran lunged at her, ready to land the final blow, but at the last instant caught himself in horror. This mare had done nothing to him. She did not deserve to die, not as far as he knew.
He stepped back just long enough to let the mare get to her hooves. She stood up in a flash, glaring at him and bleeding from a dozen different cuts. He lowered his sword menacingly and glared at her. "Run." he said, his voice low and harsh. "Run, or I will kill you." She took off into the woods, leaving her spear and a good bit of her blood behind.
Ithran stared after her, flanks heaving. Suddenly he could feel the pain in his flank and the warm wetness of blood. He prayed it wouldn't scar. For a long moment he stood staring into the dark woods after her, but after that he turned heavily back towards the rest of the fighting. Who to help next?
Post Count: 5 | Word Count: 436
-25 Strength for Ithran
Ithran now has 65 strength |
|
|
|
Post by foreignblackjack on Jan 17, 2018 0:41:01 GMT -6
Sides heaving like a pair of bellows out of a forge, Wulff looked around for the next enemy, his adrenaline running on high. His eyes drifted for a moment, soon landing on another target. A large brute swinging two swords around as if it were nothing, busy for the moment. There was no way he could take him alone, not unless he wanted to die here. He looked around again, he needed someone to help him out. Almost as if the timing was right, Piko finished off her fight just off to his left.
"Help me out with him?" he called out over the fighting.
Piko simply nodded, bounding towards the dual-sword weilding foe. Wulff was right behind her, swinging his sword to block and parry. He had to give the vagabond one thing, he had some power behind him. He blocked again, grunting as the sword landed against his own before moving in, driving the thief back a step. He kept pressing forward, until he saw... himself? He shook his head to look again, focus momentarily lost as he tried fathoming what he had seen, if he had seen it at all. He was swiftly brought back to attention when the vagabond took advantage of his distraction. Wulff managed to parry the first sword, catching the second across his shoulder. He stepped back as Piko went forth, feeling hot blood run from the wound down his foreleg. He paused all but for a moment of consideration before fighting back, Piko moving away again as he charged back in, swinging his sword, driving the vagabond back until finally a sword went flying and landed with a dull thud lost to the sound of fighting. Wulff grinned, thanking his luck briefly, taking this guy out would be a lot easier now.
Wulf used 75 Speed, now down to 25 Speed
Piko Helped
Crane Disarmed Once
Word Count: 300
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 12:13:40 GMT -6
Gulliver quickly had the vagabond pinned and disarmed, and it was with a well-aimed kick to the head that his lights went out. Slowly, he pulled his composure back, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulder. There was a reason he had left his raider days behind, and it was coming back to bite him in the ass. His muscles just werent like they used to be.
Leaving the body behind him, his whiskers flicked as he scanned the camp grounds. It seemed as though the others had the rest of them in pretty good control. He was grateful he was surrounded by such skilled fighters. It was then that his gaze found Rylan, the massive stallion dancing with a spindly little vagabond. His brow furrowed, ears flicking forward. The hippocampus looked like it could be snapped in half by the giant raider, but it seemed as though Rylan was having a bit too much fun with him.
Smirking to himself, Gulliver rolled his eyes. Dont play with your food. He thought to himself as he watched Rylan kicked out, but the thief was not afraid.
Rubbing his shoulder with his teke for a moment, Gulliver took in a deep breath and decided to get in the fight. The sooner the thief was gone, the sooner they could be done with this mess.
He swiped up a smoldering log from the fire as he passed, the flame long gone from lack of care, but the wood still hot and glowing. He charged at the thief, his large hooves rumbling against the ground as he went. Sliding to a stop in the thief's blind side, he swung the log at his head. Unfortunately, the thief noticed last minute, ducking before the log was able to make contact. Gulliver swung again, forcing the thief to step back. Again and again, the stallion pushed him back, his gaze flicking to the trench that had been dug before as the thief approached it unknowingly.
One last step and the vagabond found the edge, the ground collapsing under his weight as he toppled in. Gulliver's ears flicked forward as he looked over the edge of the trench, watching for a moment as the thief attempted to climb out, but failed. Dropping the log to his hooves, Gulliver let out a breath he didnt know he was holding as he glanced back at Rylan with a bit of surprise. He hadnt expected that to work.
He then turned to examine the rest of the scene. He would leave the thief to Rylan to take care of, or they could deal with him later. For now, he was trapped.
-25 Cunning
Will trapped |
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on Jan 18, 2018 20:43:59 GMT -6
Eshana Chazona
vagabond | vindicator
aodh | chevalier
"Strong but exhausted."
Post: #5 | Word Count: 366
Current Form: Here Eshana kept her hoof firmly pressed onto the handle of the spear as Ithran moved forward to take her place, battering their enemy into submission. He let up before any truly permanent damage was inflicted, and she watched as he delivered his warning to the silver mare. The defeated thief slunk off with no more than a scathing glare, battered, but with her life no doubt still intact.
The white hock of her borrowed form had been dyed crimson with the blood trickling from the spear inflicted wound, making the injury look far worse than it was. It stung with a passion, certainly, but it was shallow, and Eshana found she could still easily put weight on it. It would slow her down, but it was far from a crippling blow. Allowing herself to lapse back into her Aodhian disguise, the true exhaustion of continuously using her blessing for hours on end began to hit her. She doubted she had another shift left in her, not without revealing her true form, and the sooner they were able to break away from the Chevaliers and Raiders, the better.
"Watch that cut," Eshana managed hurriedly as she eyed the gash that ran across Ithran's flank, before darting off once more.
Any question of her identity had no doubt been erased by her shift moments before, and Eshana hoped that meant they could coordinate an escape before the chaos of the camp had died away completely. So long as the thieves were determined to brandish their weapons however, their lives were on the line; there was still work to be done.
The soft twang of an arrow whizzing past her ear immediately caught her attention, and Eshana whirled around to search for the offender. There; one the outskirts of the camp, a cream coloured mare fired arrows to aid her comrades from afar. Her lethal projectiles poised the greatest danger she could determine in her immediate vicinity, so decision made, Eshana leapt into action.
"Hey!" she yelled as she barreled forward, snagging a half torn bag of supplies from the ground as she did so. Flinging the ruptured bag forward, the various contents spilling out and pelting the surprised mare.
Game Post: #15
ESHANA used Changeling
ESHANA used 75 CUNNING - ESHANA now has 50 CUNNING
CELESTA is DISTRACTED
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2018 22:49:20 GMT -6
As Gulliver turned away from the Vagabond, he heard a loud, deep shout. Turning his head, his thick mane bouncing against his neck, he spotted a large mountain of a stallion charging at busy members of their group, attempting to blindside them. He let out a sigh, pressing forward as he went to throw the stallion off his aim. The Vagabond towered over him, so Gulliver didnt think he would really be able to take him out, but maybe he would be able to distract him. He had been fairly good at that lately.
However, his plan didnt go entirely as planned. As Gulliver neared the beast, he found himself sliding on his hooves as the stallion turned to face him, a large boulder held in his grasp. Gulliver's eyes went wide as Mulligan's gaze fixated on him, his target acquired. The boulder looked awfully larger up close, and Gulliver was starting to regret his decision.
He tried to get out of the way, but he was too late. The brute of a stallion launched his rocky weapon toward the medic, the boulder finding its mark as it crashed into his side and sent him sprawling into the grass. His leg exploded in pain as the boulder settled, trapping him in the dirt.
-25 Wisdom | -20 Vitality
Mulligan distracted x1 |
|
|
|
Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 20, 2018 1:03:28 GMT -6
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | VindicatorThe mare darted off into the woods and Ithran took a moment to collect himself before rejoining the fray. Eshana stood only a few feet away, still looking like Wulff, and he almost laughed. She glanced at him, then warned him to watch the cut on his flank. He could feel it, and winced as he took a step forward. This will definitely get in the way, he thought as he turned to face the camp.
Just in time to see Gulliver get hit with a giant rock.
Ithran launched into action, not taking the time to bring his sword about. Instead he drew from the force he always felt but now rarely noticed, the force that connected him to the ground he stood on and let him feel it like an extension of himself. He tugged on it and a huge patch of turf ripped out of the ground beside him. He sent it hurtling end over end towards the stallion who had just thrown the rock, shouting a challenge before jumping forward, manipulating the ground just before he landed so that he was on a pillar of earth several feet above the rest of the clearing.
It made him a target, but more importantly it drew the attention of the big stallion. Ithran's first rock had missed, so he readied another, drawing a pillar of earth out of the ground where it would be ready to launch at the stallion if it was needed, like a thick spear of hardened earth. Just because it had no sharp edge didn't mean it couldn't kill.
Ithran held his shield at chest height, eyes narrowed as he tried to ignore the flickering light of the flames. They jumped at the edge of his vision, silhouetting the thief and making it hard to get a read on what exactly he was doing. Hopefully someone else would be able to step in. Ithran was sure he could take the stallion on his own, but the pain in his side was getting harder to ignore. Post Count: 6 | Word Count: 378
-25 Cunning for Ithran |
|
|
|
Post by foreignblackjack on Jan 20, 2018 18:13:04 GMT -6
Wulff turned his head, taking his attention away from thief in front of him in time to see Gulliver go down, and one of the raiders step in. He couldn't think of the name, but he didn't care for names all that much. He glared at the thief in front of him before taking off to help. Someone else could deal with that brute when they got the right moment. He needed help, it was becoming a little more than annoying. He looked over and saw Scorch just hovering over the action. He shouted at the little dragon catching its attention, and together went running off towards the latest target. Scorch got in first, surprising Mulligan as it breathed a short burst of fire in his face, forcing him to reel back out of range and turn directly into Wulff's path. Wulff stepped in, violently slashing at him, forcing him back, taking turns with Scorch who was excellent at dive-bombing the giant.
They needed to finish this quickly, but he was struggling for ideas. He had flame to one side of them, and a trench further back. It was on him to finish this, and the only logical solution was to push Mulligan into the trench. Mulligan picked up a smaller chunk of rock, throwing it towards Scorch, but the dragon dodged and went in fast again, giving a short burst of flame again. Just a few more steps, Wulff thought as he lunged in with his word. Mulligan backed up again, close to the edge. Scorch dived in again pulling out a small tuft of hair, keeping the thief's attention as Wulff threw himself towards Mulligan once more, forcing the giant stallion back and into the trench. Wulff looked down and smiled. He wasn't going anywhere soon, so he smirked and went to attack someone else.
Wulff used 25 Cunning - Wulff now has 0 Cunning
Scorch Helped
Mulligan is Trappped.
Word Count: 307
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2018 11:42:45 GMT -6
The stallion struggled under the weight of the boulder, his leg stuck in an awkward position, making it hard for him to kick the large rock away, Flopping his head to the ground, he watched as his comrades took out the massive stallion that did this to him. Pressing his tongue to his teeth, he let out a sharp whistle at Piko as they passed.
"Hey! Help out?" He shouted, pushing himself up as much as his leg would allow. Piko nodded, rushing to his aid. She threw herself into the boulder, releasing his leg and sending the boulder bouncing down the hill. Gulliver pulled himself to his hooves, a sharp pain shooting through his leg as he put his hoof to the ground. Hissing and flicking his ears back, he lifted his leg and held it up. It didnt feel broken, but it was definitely at least bruised.
Sighing, he flicked his attention back to the boulder just in time to see it crashing toward Celeste, knocking the weapon right out of their grasp.
Celeste Disarmed |
|
|
|
Post by NovelNoctuary on Jan 22, 2018 15:39:38 GMT -6
RYLAN
War Forged / Raider / 20hh
Gulliver swept in like a hurricane, and Rylan leapt back with a fierce grin as the Medic - brandishing a log wreathed in flames as though it were some great mythic sword - made a wild swing for the filthy dagger-weilding Vagabond. It came as no surprise that the slimy bastard managed to avoid the blow, though a sliver of Rylan had expected the fire to set his stench alight (and was disappointed that it hadn't). Gulliver, he realized moments later, was not to be trifled with. The stallion maneuvered his foe back, back, back with that smoldering log until he toppled over the rim of their defensive trench and disappeared without a sound, swiftly dealt with. He shot the Hippocampus an admiring glance, noting the surprise in his scarlet eyes with some amusement. Gulliver was a smart man, whether or not he believed it. He had subdued that piece of shit in half the time it had taken Rylan to land a hit on him.
"Good job," he began -- and then the battle swallowed them both whole, and they were separated. Rylan fought until sweat glistened on his silvery hide, weapons a blur of motion; blood stained the edges of his broadsword the same crimson hue as his sightless eye.
Moments passed, or maybe minutes. Rylan swung at a pretty, rose-eyed pegasus mare, and then watched in surprise as a boulder swept the bow from her grasp and crushed it to pieces. She looked at him. He looked at her. Then he charged forward with a roar, and she had half a second to yelp as his hooves slammed into her skull. She fell, unconscious and bleeding, to the ground before him. That was quick.
Rylan ATTACKED Celeste for -35 Strength.
CELESTE HAS BEEN DEFEATED.
---
Word Count: 304
Post: 5
|
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on Jan 22, 2018 15:59:15 GMT -6
Eshana Chazona
vagabond | vindicator
aodh | chevalier
"Strong but exhausted."
Post: #6 | Word Count: 335
Current Form: Here With some bewilderment, Eshana watched as the cream coloured mare stumbled backwards from the myriad of items that pelted her body, only to be staggered by a rock flung from a nearby fight. The large grey stallion that had approached her earlier suddenly appeared, and Eshana leapt to clear the way as he charged the Vegabond, wasting no time in incapacitating her. She fell victim to the stallion's hooves, and quite assured she was no longer a threat to them, Eshana whirled to observe what was left to contend with.
Most of the thieves appeared to have been driven, trapped, or killed; except an exceptionally large brute of a stallion that stood in the remainder of the camp, swinging about a massive sword. It's twin already laid inactive a fair ways away from the beast, but it seemed to have done little to deter him. Though she winced as the stinging pain returned to her hind leg, she sprung forward once more.
"Piko!" Eshana called as she darted by the mare, hoping to gain aid from the mare she had helped free only minutes earlier. Sure enough, the Chevalier captain turned to the sound of her name, wordlessly joining her as she locked eyes with the bulky Vegabond.
Just then, the stallion noticed the two mares charging towards him, swinging his remaining sword at them with an angry snort. Eshana was only just able to leap away from a lethal hit, the metal tip whizzing by the tender skin of her neck. Veering to the right, Eshana raised her dagger threateningly as she circled the stallion, keeping his attention fixed on her as Piko began to circle the opposite way. In a wordless agreement, they surged forward, and without the aid of his second sword, the stallion was unable to ward off the attack from both fronts. Her dagger sinking into his shoulder, a loud clatter sounded as Piko managed to wrench the remaining weapon from his grasp, earning an angry battlecry from the wounded stallion.
Game Post: #21
ESHANA used 50 AGILITY - ESHANA now has 25 AGILITY
PIKO HELPED
CRANE is DISARMED
|
|
|
|
Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 22, 2018 17:14:04 GMT -6
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | VindicatorIthran leapt off the small hill of earth he'd created, letting it crumble away as his focus shifted to yet another thief who was fighting Eshana. She managed to disarm him with Piko's help and a good bit of her own skill, and Ithran jumped into the fray as she backed off.
The big paint stallion was taller than Ithran and decidedly stronger, but he was missing his weapons so Ithran charged him, swinging the sword low and trying to knock him off-balance with his shield. The stallion ducked deftly to one side and swung back with a well-placed kick that caught Ithran just behind the ribs, nearly knocking the air from his lungs. Ithran gasped and dropped his sword, which the stallion promptly kicked out of the way.
Ithran faced the stallion, staring up at him – he was several hands taller – and gripping the shield with shaky teke. From his right he heard a roar and assumed it was the fire, which had by now mostly consumed one of the wagons. The thief's hoof shot out, catching the edge of his shield and knocking it out of his grip as Ithran tried to dodge.
Again came the roar from his left and Ithran was momentarily distracted as he looked over. So it wasn't quite a surprise when he saw the sabertooth cat shoot past him and launch itself at the huge stallion who stumbled backwards, shouting in pain, the cat clinging to his back. He bucked wildly, heading towards the forest. Finally, with one wild shout, he threw the cat away just long enough to bolt into the forest, eyes wild and his back and neck in tatters. Ithran stood staring after him, then mechanically moved to pick up his weapons.
They had won. A wagon burned, they had lost some supplies, and there were few horses without wounds, but they had won. Or, well, the chevaliers and raiders had won. Their supplies and strength were diminished and this attack would hurt the war effort, slowing preparations. Ithran wished he could have found a way to help the thieves more openly, but that might have blown his and, worse, Eshana's covers.
All in all, it hadn't been a good day but it could still help the Vindicator's cause. Perhaps the Vindicators could stage similar attacks and otherwise undermine the war effort? He would have to report all this to Dinah once he got back. He took a few steps and winced at the pain in his flank, the acrid scent of smoke making his nostrils wrinkle. Now might be a good time for him and Eshana to disappear into the woods along with the thieves. Post Count: 7 | Word Count: 487
-25 Strength for Ithran |
|
|
|
Post by Jennycallie on Jan 31, 2018 23:14:02 GMT -6
Your plot is complete! Stay tuned for a wrap-up journal!20 AP and 20 CS to: Bates, Icabod, Ithran, Eshana, Gulliver, Wulff, Rylan |
|
