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| Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: September 25, 2011, 7:29 pm (1,981 Views) | |
| Vanity&Ecstasy | November 28, 2011, 3:11 am Post #76 |
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Thief of Hearts
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After Rafti had raised his concerns several things happened all at once, Saleos went charging ahead wanting to fight either the dragon that they had been searching for or maybe the elves that were said to know of the dragon. Whichever didn't really concern Rafti, at least as long as he was able to talk to the dragon that was all that mattered. Next was Shail, he wasn't necessarily off to kill the dragon but his air changed drastically with the roar of the dragon. Following after Saleos was the temperature elf, who made it a point to give Saleos a good kick in the leg to slow him down. "Mass confusion, expected of a large group of strangers," he said mostly to himself. Listening to Denth's statement Rafti was content to follow the others to the location, how they were able to determine the dragon's location so easily was beyond Rafti's imagination but they had arrived and that was what mattered. The chaos continued as they came upon the scene of the large beast being surrounded by rather angry looking elves. Denth said a few words before the others went to attack which had Rafti concerned as to the man's true motives. "Too normal, concerning tone, simply suspicious maybe we should attack you instead of the elves at this point," Rafti accused looking Denth over once before turning to face the elves. Shail had taken down a good handful of the captors and it wasn't in Rafti to not get in at least one hit in a skirmish like this. Unsheathing his blade, the dull grey glow in his eyes began to shine brighter and small runes appeared on the sword responding to the power Rafti was supplying. Swinging his body about into a quick whirlwind the runes on the sword shone into a bright blur and at the peak of his next spin Rafti launched the blade at a distant elf. The blade flew through the air on a straight course for the elf and in a burst of speed buried itself in the elf's side. Suddenly the pull of strong magics wrapped around Rafti as he disappeared into nothingness only to reappear standing over the fallen elf's body, sword in hand. It was a feeling Rafti could never really get use to, but it was effective for blinking out of the physical plane for a few seconds. Turning the blade inside the elf's stomach a slight glow rose from the elf's body as the final moments of their life faded. The light rose up the blade and through Rafti's skin his veins glowing bright for just a moment. Removing the blade from the elf's side Rafti held up a hand in mock prayer before looking at the battlefield. Things were starting to dwindle down with more and more elves falling as the others fought. Taking the chance Rafti slipped back into the nearby tree cover and began to scope out Denth once more, the normal man's words seemed suspicious to Rafti. 'Using the man as a guide is all well and good, but his strange words confound me. Surely he wouldn't be a guide if he couldn't handle himself. In which case why isn't he getting involved now. Will have to confront soon,' he thought holding his blade by his side ready for another round. |
| Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character | |
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| Jei Ai | November 28, 2011, 4:46 am Post #77 |
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Elves – everywhere – like ants, scattering in a chaotic yet methodical mess. Sa’ritae was first to approach the field, following the echoing sound as the party fell into step behind her. Two unknown beings were clustered in amidst her cousins, slashing and swinging, firing and beating. Their skill was admirable, as time after time, the Autumn’s were cut down like leaves in the wind. Horror fell over the gorgeous Summer as her kin were slaughtered before her gentle brown eyes, her dancing run coming to a halt. “No…” Frozen, she watched the massacre; how, how were the two creatures able to fight off so many? And why were her cousins attacking at all? The reason became strangely obvious as her eyes moved to just beyond the battle. Barely able to stand, the creature’s scales seemed stained from a lack of sunlight. Chaffed, raw and red rings circled the great beast’s joints, and a wide and secured chain was wrapped and fastened about his middle, holding his folded wings against his back. The Fallen King was wounded, in pain, and another howl of agony rumbled from its chest as the party scattered into sight. The two other beings, for whatever reason, were clearly there for the dragon. Wild eyed and fierce, one masculine woman cut down yet another Elf, while her sleek and lithe comrade shot down a second. Her heart already bruised by the death of her cousins, the sight of the wounded dragon – the last hope for the world – broke Sa’ritae. “No… No my King, no!” As light on her feet as ever, the Elf charged into the battle field behind her travelling companions. Shail had already forged a path of defeat through the onslaught, and the others were not far behind him. Setting her eyes on her quarry, the beautiful Summer danced into the fray. The world around her became immaterial; none of the immediate mattered, and only her goal rang out through her mind. Dancing and weaving, the Summer darted through the small army of her brethren, avoiding blows with ease. Not that many seemed to come her way; the Autumns, though confused, seemed to hesitate before attacking their sister as she raced across the field without harming a single Autumn. The Elves seemed to have a quiet respect for each other, and refrained from attack while Sa’ritae raised no arrow or blade against them. In truth, the Summer genuinely meant them no harm; she was a bringer of life and love, not of death, and ached that her kin were being brought to their knees – the world was truly broken. She seemed to fade into the sea of Elves, and with swiftness and gentle laughter, evaded harm as she raced towards the dragon. Behind her, cries and howls of pain resounded through the forest. From which side, Sa’ritae did not know, and she did not stop to find out. They were noises – noises only – and held no meaning to her anymore. An arrow whirred past her ear, flying from behind in the direction of the Autumn camp. Realising she may be confused for an Autumn, Sa’ritae hopped and skipped in a jaggered line, her skin glowing more golden than ever. From beyond the battle, some force had coated the dragon in a veil, barely visible but notable behind Elven eyes. As illusive and dark as shadows, the Summer could only assume it was a Shadeling – perhaps Ri’lirr – that protected the Fallen King now, and a great and happy laugh fell effortlessly from Sa’ritae’s perfect mouth. So there were others willing to fight and save the dragon? Great relief and joy filled the Summer’s heart at the thought of others brave enough to protect the great King, and not bring harm like so many selfish others had. As impossible as she had thought it, perhaps there were others who could feel the death of the world? Others who knew in their hearts that only the dragons could save this broken land, these broken people? A great joy radiated from the Elf. Not all hope was lost. Startled, the Autumns seemed to realise the eventual goal of their sister as Sa’ritae neared the imprisoned beast, and with hisses of betrayal, lunged for the Summer. With nimble feet and quick movements, Sa’ritae was able to dodge and parry their attacks, laughing as she did. Battle was a dance – just a simple dance. And Summer’s loved to dance. Reaching back for an arrow, the gorgeous Svamanirii swept her arms around her as she spun in an elegant circle. The arrowhead slashed the arms of the two nearest attackers, and within moments the delicious poison that coated her weapons took effect. Setting her stance as a precaution, Sa’ritae giggled as the Autumns moved to lunge their swords but hesitated, watching her with a sudden, affectionate gaze that looked out of place amidst the clashing of swords. With a knowing smile, the Summer lowered her weapon and slipped past the pair, kissing their cheeks as she went. “The Summer’s aim is straight and true, Their hearts and skin a-glow, They dance while others heave and fall, And wield sweet Cupid’s arrow! So cross us once and yes, you’ll live, But if push comes to shove, Our gorgeous smiles shall win us the dance, As you fall in rapturous love…” Slipping through the cloak of shadow without a moment’s hesitation, Sa’ritae approached the great creature with genuine intentions and gentle eyes. Sliding her bow across her shoulder to free her hands, she crouched quickly and gracefully, not wanting to give the enemy time to attack. “My Lord I mean only to serve you; please forgive my cousins their sins, and forgive me the late hour of my arrival.” Rising quickly and moving forward, the Summer pulled a pin from her hair and reached for the great lock that kept the chains upon his wing. An Autumn rushed at her, but Sa’ritae weaved sideways, pulling an arrow from her quiver and slicing the Elf’s cheek. Turning back to her lock with the assurance that he would no longer harm her, Sa’ritae called back to her now infatuated cousin, “Guard me, brother!” Without hesitation, the love-struck Autumn took his position behind the Summer, blade out and facing his kin, confusing those that moved to pull the Summer from their prize. Sa’ritae continued at her task, working the pin in the lock until the gentle click signalled her small victory. Working with quick hands, Sa’ritae pulled the great chain, unable to drag it from the beast’s body – Elves were not known for their strength – but hoping to demonstrate to the dragon that he himself could now shake the chains from his wings and move freely. Her job only half completed, the Summer moved now to the back of her King, picking at and freeing the locks that held his hind legs in place. Having completely freed the dragon, there remained only one task to achieve for this fallen King, here and now. Only one thing left she could do to aid, for her skills in battle were not like those of her companions. Hurrying back to the head of the dragon, Sa’ritae reached out with gentle hands and lay them upon the first broken and battered front-claw she found. Pressing down lightly, Sa’ritae whispered in quiet Primic: “Niithril pulathii harith nu liath!” Her fingertips ignited in a brilliant, golden glow, spreading across her palms and down to her wrists as the magic fell under her power. Slowly, the wounds beneath her hands began to heal, and visibly the scales upon the dragon began to repair and return to their former brilliance. The soothing, healing magic ebbed from the Elf’s hands, spreading from the broken leg of the dragon to gently fill his body. Seeking to ‘patch-up’, rather than completely heal just yet, Sa’ritae worked her magic fast, wanting only to allow the dragon movement for escape. There would be time later for a thorough re-awakening. As new life poured into the Fallen King, Sa’ritae beamed beautifully. This. This was why she was needed. |
![]() 'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare' Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC Image by Vertify | |
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| Enja | November 28, 2011, 4:42 pm Post #78 |
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VIBRATIONS SO GOOD LIKE A SUNKIST!
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Saleos paid little mind to the summer elf’s attempts to trip him up since he was in his blood lust mode and all he cared about was the fight at hand. Since Saleos was in such a state he didn’t even know what was going on around him as he charged forward with his head down like a bull, running through a group of elf’s as if they were mere paper. Finally he lifted his head up as his demon skull was covered in blood and the bodies behind him lie broken. Lifting his Ax up Saleos let out a loud roar as he ran forward. Turning his Ax as he moved so the blade was facing him, he took a running swing at an elf, but the elf dodged his attack. This didn’t phase Saleos one bit, he spun around and in doing so came back around with an open hand grabbing the elf by the face. Lifting him up in the air, Saleos crushed the elf’s skull without even trying. He tossed the body aside and slammed his Ax in the ground “ None of you are worthy of my dragon slayer! Come as you may! But you’ll all lie broken before me!”. He spoke bravely until an arrow struck him in the chest. “what’s this?” lucky with all that muscle he has it wasn’t able to go in very far and hit him in a vital organ. Saleos let go of his Ax and snapped the arrow in two while it was still inside of his body. The elf that shot him grew nervous at the sight of seeing his only hope fade so quickly at the hands of Saleos, sadly for him though Saleos gave held no quarter for anyone. He walked forward towards the elf, the elf feel to the ground in fear. Saleos just couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward “boo…” the elf ran off quickly and Saleos just couldn’t help but break out into laughter. In his bloodlust fueled charge, Saleos never even noticed the dragon that was there. He turned around still paying no mind to what’s going on around him, walking back over to his Ax and pulling out of the ground, Saleos then noticed something right in front of him… the dragon. His eye’s grew big, his grip on his weapon grew tighter, and his muscles tightened as he grew very excited. “A Dragon!” he screamed, slowly he walked around it “this is the day grandfather! I shall use the blade that you in trusted me with! This day I’ll make my Ancestors proud of me!” quickly he charged forward to attack the dragon, as he dragged his Ax across the floor, breaking the floor underneath his feet with each step. But this time the charge wasn’t the same, as he grew closer he noticed two elves, one was the one he was traveling with as the other… this one he didn’t recognize one bit. It was another female elf, one with darker skin. He noticed that they were both tugging at something. “hmmm… chains…” kept on running closing in faster and faster. Finally close enough to the elves, Saleos raised his Ax and brought it down on the chain, breaking it in two. |
| tyrtyrtyrtyrtyrt | |
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| Wicked | November 29, 2011, 6:46 pm Post #79 |
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The Derp Queen
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The ground shook beneath her and, for once in the woman’s life, Žiar was stunned by what was unraveling before her. She looked from the elf she’d just pierced through, now stumbling down to the ground, to the soil beneath her feet. She lifted her boots momentarily and watched with curiosity as a few pebbles shuddered. Now, the roars were deafening to the ears and it’s sound was unmistakable despite Žiar’s inexperience around the fallacy that was, well, no longer a fallacy: a dragon. Her head whipped around to the sound, her sharp eyes narrowing in on a large, unimaginable shape- animal- approaching with another wave of elves. Žiar should have been keeping her watch on the ones attacking her, should have kept on guard, but for that moment she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability as silver eyes wandered over the form of a dragon she’d never thought to successfully find. Žiar had found her dragon. A victorious smile reigned over her mouth as she drank in the essence of the creature. It was large, to say the least, and towered over everyone. It made her feel ridiculously insignificant and she would admit, to herself alone, that she was awed. That was until she felt the shift in the air as an Autumn elf went for the kill- her as the target. Briskly, she twirled on the spot to face her opponent, stepping gracefully in time to avoid the brunt of his attack. Rip. Her eyes glanced down at the small cut in her sleeve and they turned to slits as she turned her glare to the brute who’d dared to attack her. There was a small cut on her flesh, a red line of blood revealing itself against the moonlit complexion Žiar was born with. Despite the feel of a poison beginning to fester from the opponent’s blade, the assassin kept on as her own began to slice through the elf like butter. Her rage was misdirected, mainly, as she slaughtered the beast before her until he fell, silent, to the ground and stained it a dark, lustful red. She was mad at herself, frustrated that she could have possibly let that take a hit at her, of all people. It was unacceptable that she let her guard down, if only for a second to take note of her goal: the dragon. If she wasn’t one of the top assassins of Bordros, her senses would not have picked up on him quickly enough to save her body from further harm. It was also because she was a top assassin that she shouldn’t have that slit in her sleeve. Like a flame, she scorched through those who came across her. She barely noticed as others began to join in the growing battle, only sparing a glance in the beings direction to figure out who else she’d have to deal with. It seemed to be quite a group of species, fighting against the Autumn elves as well to get to the dragon. That animal was hers. They weren’t going to take it from her and, as soon as she was done with these annoying frolicking elves, she’d slay them as well and be on her way back to her homeland with the dragon in tow. That, though, was simply her conclusion under the heat of battle. Her senses were wiped completely of reason, the cleverness inherited from her mother. Instead, the inferno her father bore within her raged unmercifully and all would pay hell for it. More than before, elves fell beneath her and she stepped, leapt, and kicked them out of her way to get to the others. She simply saw red, the beautiful red that poured from their bodies like a waterfall. It captivated her at times. They all were merely sacks filled with liquid, ready to be poked and leaked out. Out of the corner of her eye, Žiar watched the wounded dragon to make sure nothing happened to it. It looked near death already, and she would not be allowed to let it fade. If this was the last dragon, she’d be out of luck if it passed away while on her watch. She’d just flung a dagger into the throat of a charging elf when her hawk eyes caught sudden movements near her creature. An elf, now two were working on getting the chains off the animal. And what then? Those things were probably the only ways to keep the dragon from fleeing completely. No. No, it wasn’t. Žiar realized, almost nervously, that this dragon was not about to go anywhere. It was too weak. Would she be able to do what she needed? And it was being healed, as well, by the more… luminous of the two elves. Even in the heat that emanated and consumed her healthy, power-surged body, Žiar was able to realize that she might need to keep the small cluster of others who’d arrived alive- if only for a small while. She needed to make sure that the dragon was safe, healthy, and confined enough for her to do her job. Despite Žiar’s acknowledgement that she was a strong female, able to take on many things, she also knew that this certain job would need more than just her two hands. Unfortunately. For now, she focused on the fight and, after snatching her dagger from the corpse below her, continued to take down the first obstacle in her path: these damn Autumn elves. |
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| Jei Ai | December 1, 2011, 2:44 pm Post #80 |
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Feeling with her hands, Sa’ritae could almost see the core of the dragon, as the glowing golden light washed through his veins, spreading her healing magic. A low rumble from the beast sounded out from his chest, but the Summer did not twitch or flinch away; this was where she belonged, beside the dragon, until the earth could be healed too. Scrunching up her eyes, Sa’ritae focused on the gaping wound that bore the marks of a spear-head, lightly tracing the breaks in the dragon’s scale armor, and the lips of the wound itself. He was weakened and sore, tired and hungry, and her heart ached desperately for the creature – her king. When such majesty was treated in a manner unworthy of even the most foul Orc, the most treacherous goblin hoard, then you could know for certain that the world was broken. How had her cousins not realised their actions? They were elves, just as she, and connected to the lifecycles of the world. How had they not known? Had even her own race turned their backs on the world in favour of greed, selfishness and fortune? Suddenly, a dark spirit entered by Sa’ritae’s aura, moving towards the dragon. It was no Autumn, nor any being she travelled with, and the Summer’s deep and beautiful eyes flew open, her healing magic still surging through the fallen king but her hands ready to reach back for her bow. In amazement, she saw the eerie blue skin, the dirty white hair and the hard, angular features of yet another of her kin. Darker in aura with black eyes and a muscular build, the death-keeping Elf darted forward, genuine concern radiating from her aura. Sa’ritae felt herself momentarily freeze to look upon the ice opposite to her own season. It was a Winter Elf, strong and hard; bringers of the end, and rulers of the death-bringing season. She was everything the Svaminirii was not, but she was still her kin. Concerned eyes met Sa’ritae’s, and with a surprising gentility asked if she might aid with the dragon’s escape to freedom. Before an answer could be given, the much more muscular Elf was tugged and pulling at the heavy chains that the Summer had been unable to budge and which the dragon had not yet shaken off himself. Smiling, Sa’ritae urged her cousin on, grateful that not all of her kin had disgraced the name of the Elves that day. “Winter pulls the fallen king, From the chains of death, While Summer enchants the lifesong, Back to the dragon’s breath! Ice and fire come as one, Weaving their sacred lores, Though rivals of the years gone by, They join for a greater cause…” A sudden roaring could be heard, and it did not pass the mouth of the dragon or come off the tongue of Autumns. Eyes darting about to spy the source, the powerful and oafish Saleos could be seen charging forward, his axe raised high and his helmet smeared with blood. Sa’ritae had not yet forgotten how Saleos had charged forward in a bloodlust, declaring his desire for the king’s death at his own hand. Panic struck Sa’ritae, who knew she would be unable to stop him with such a charge. It was with great surprise that instead she saw him hack through the remaining chains on the dragon, aiding its escape; unusual behaviour, though perhaps honourable for a warrior desiring a fair fight. Still, Sa’ritae was not fooled. Quick and nimble, the Summer’s hands moved from the wounds she was healing and swung her bow around from her back. Reaching up, she slid an arrow from her quiver and fixed it in place against her drawstring. With gentle, polished fingers, she pulled back the scarlet feathers to touch the corner of her mouth, aiming with her sharp eyes and calculating the shot. She did not miss the wound in his chest, seemingly from a previous arrow blow. It was not deep, but it would be deep enough to reach the bloodstream if hit twice. Calling out to her cousin before attacking, Sa’ritae spoke in clear Prithvayan to her Winter kin. “He means to kill the dragon.” Exhaling, she released. With the startling and exact precision of Alighahara, the arrow struck home, piercing the thin and barely visible wound in the barbarian’s chest. With a small glowing sparkle, the Elf raised her head in victory, knowing she was now safe from harm as the poison upon the tip of her weapons began to seep into the wounded being. Her arrow might not have hurt the beast as much as she would have liked, but the paralysing love potion would at least grant her the protection she needed to beat him off. The dragon was now healed enough to move, its wounds closed at the least, and bones no longer in shards upon its front leg. Her tasks completed, the Summer pulled another arrow from her quiver and stood ready to fight by the dragon’s side. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled beautifully at the Winter Elf, hoping she had at least one of her kin left to fight beside. |
![]() 'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare' Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC Image by Vertify | |
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| Enja | December 1, 2011, 4:10 pm Post #81 |
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VIBRATIONS SO GOOD LIKE A SUNKIST!
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Saleos was confused why the summer elf attacked him, but his rage was starting to overflow. He pulled the arrow out of his chest and snapped it in his hand. As he noticed the darker skinned elf, Saleos walked closer to both of them until he felt the Ax in his hand slip from his grip “what did you do to me wench?” he kept moving forward, feeling his feet turn into bricks. Saleos finally got close enough to her as his hand reached out towards her neck, but as soon as his finger touched her neck he fell to the ground. On his knees Saleos couldn’t speak as his rage slowly faded into nothingness. Saleos wasn’t sure what was going on but his curiosity slowly faded as he stood back up to his feet. His thought’s were clouded and he couldn’t remember what was going on until he noticed the dragon “AH YES! Now I remember…” and then within his eyesight he noticed the summer elf with her bow drawn and aimed at him. “Is there something wrong? I am not her to fight you, I’m here to protect you”. Saleos’s feeling for the elf seemed to grow even more then before. At the time he was lost at why he was feeling such away, but as much as he wanted to fight the dragon in a fair fight, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the side of the Summer elf in time of chaos. Saleos walked over to his Ax and picked it up off the ground, as he did so he felt a blade stab him in the side “what in the!” amazing enough the blade didn’t hit him in anything vital. Saleos picked his Ax up and swung it, cutting the enemy elf in two. The blade was still in his side as he pulled it out not caring if anything would be damaged, the only thing on his mind was keeping the summer elf safe. Blood trickled down his chest and out of his side, but he paid little mind to any of that. He was trying to think of how to communicate to her but he wasn’t sure what he could do and kneeling at her feet was a no go since Saleos kneels before no one. So he walked over next to her and stood ready with the bottom of his Ax on the ground and his back straight, his eye’s gazed forward awaiting a challenge. |
| tyrtyrtyrtyrtyrt | |
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| Blue | December 2, 2011, 1:24 am Post #82 |
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The Token Australian
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“Good choice, Butch. That’s what I like to hear.” Dantilae grinned as the waves made their way towards the pair. Whilst the bruiser went off to the side and attempted to flank the enemy, the Ildarian primed another two arrows on the string. Not another Elf had been sighted yet, but in the distance she could already hear their dying screams. And then, suddenly, it came. The roar was phenomenal and both Dantilae and her sister could feel the pain being etched into poor Alamandaneristhis. Their shared heart rose in their chest and for the first time in a long time, Dantilae felt an expression of despair creep onto her features. They needed to hurry, they needed to save him. There wasn’t much time. ”Get to him now! I don’t care what it takes! They’ll pay for this.” Adantiel screamed from within her own body, wishing that her voice could’ve carried out into the air. On the outside, her sister’s smirk returned. Adantiel needed not worry; the Elves would certainly pay for their insolence. There wouldn’t be any survivors, not by a long shot. And as if on cue two of them appeared with blades drawn, tanned faces ready for battle. Unfortunately for them, the archer was too far away for even a lunge attack to do them any good. Dantilae pulled back on the bowstring quickly and tilted the bow in a slightly clockwise direction, before letting fly her arrows. Both of her opponents caught one each; the first in the chest and second through the neck. And as the blood spilled from both of them, the girls couldn’t help but laugh with a sense of satisfaction. Another scream in the distance; Butch was certainly having a good time up there. The two of them had honestly expected more than just two opponents, but if appeared that the fighter was thinning the Elves’ forces with a lot more effort than was indicated by her stature. Nonetheless, the archers’ eye caught sight of another Autumn rushing towards her through the trees. As she pulled another arrow from her quiver and readied the shot, Dantilae hesitated. The shot wasn’t clear – the trees block the way. She could’ve risked it, but it was likely that he would be upon her in no time if she missed it. Eyes darting around for another option, the Ildarian’s attention snapped to a tree on her right. …I wonder… she thought, accidentally allowing another precious second to slip by. With a Lowric curse, she sidestepped and fired her arrow at the tree-side. Swiftly it flew, and as the head struck the wooden surface, it ricocheted off to the left and began upon a newer, clearer path. To Dantilae’s delight, the arrowhead punctured the Autumn’s flank and with a muffled shout he went down. “Piece of cake.” She growled in triumph, as though she’d already won the battle. However, as her attention snapped to the rest of the forest, it became apparent that she, Butch, Alamandaneristhis and the Autumns were no longer the only ones occupying its space. War cries that couldn’t have possibly come from any Elf resounded from the mountain’s base and echoed through the trees. In addition, the Elven forces were much thinner than anyone would’ve expected considering the upset Dantilae had caused. Granted, Butch was good at her job, but not that good. The only viable solution was that there were more factions within the woods than she’d initially thought. Regardless, the way was now clear, and Dantilae would carve a path to the Dragon and press forward unto freedom. Or so she thought. ”Time’s up Lovely. Sister’s turn.” Adantiel whispered calmly. “Damn, is that five minutes already? I on--” Dantilae wasn’t able to get a full reply out before Adantiel took back what was hers. “Be without fear Dantilae. I shall do as the older sister does, and leave you some for later.” ”You’re only older by a few minutes...” growled the Alter. Adantiel didn’t have the time to start an argument. She had a Dragon to save. Without another word, she sprinted through the woods back towards the mountain base, threading her arm through her bow and slinging it over her shoulder. The path was littered with bodies, all bloody and broken, though none left breathing. “That woman must’ve torn her way through here already.” However, as she moved it became apparent that the numbers didn’t add up and that there were more people on her side than she’d realised. There wasn’t a chance that one assassin could’ve dealt with all of these opponents. That’s when she saw him. Pausing for a moment, the girl looked ahead and gazed upon an Autumn Elf that lay before her on the path, an arrow jutting out from his chest. An arrow which couldn’t have been her own. Adantiel recalled that Butch – as her sister had decided to call her – was not carrying a bow on her person at the time of their meeting, nor were the Autumn Soldiers carrying any. This sight, once taken in, only caused the girl to head off at a faster rate than before. If the mystery archer was after the Dragon, she could only assume that it meant bad news if Alamandaneristhis could fly. Because in that scenario, he wouldn’t be for long. As she reached the base, her vision appeared to be playing tricks on her. There before her lay the Dragon she’d come to save, only to find that the battle she’d started had been joined by a large group of fighters, of all different races. Alaman looked healthier somehow, his wounds almost completely gone. The chains that had once bound him were shattered at his feet. He was in the process of being saved. Surprisingly enough, as Adantiel stared at the Greater Creature, The Autumns – for whatever reason – had not caught sight of her yet. They appeared to all be too busy fighting off this new group. Off to the side of the Dragon however, something that seemed like a play of sorts seemed to be going on. The girl watched as an astonishingly beautiful Summer Elf – whom she’d realised was very likely the one who’d killed that Autumn – raised her bow to her rather brutish looking ally and shot him. A look of confusion spread across the Ildarian’s features as the man turned, as though to try and get to the Summer so that he could wrap his hand around her elegant neck, however only ending up falling at her feet. The biggest confusion of all occurred when he stood back up, snapped the arrow and took a fighting stance back to back with the Summer, as though he intended to fight by her side for the rest of his life. “Must’ve been some powerful potion…” Adantiel raised an eyebrow at the pair, before a roar snapped her back to reality. Her lapse in attention had allowed for a Soldier to get in too close to her. His sword was raised high in the air, and there were only a few steps between him and her. With a gasp, Adantiel reached for her own blade. She had just enough time to raise her own sword above her head and block the oncoming strike. The impact sent shivers up her arm. It’d been a long time since she’d used a blade. It felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar. If she could’ve, Dantilae would’ve rolled her eyes. The archer threw her foot forward and into the soldier’s wide open crotch. With a cry, the man dropped his blade and went down on his knees. With a follow through motion, Adantiel brought her blade down on the Elf’s collar bone. The snapping sound made her stomach twist and made her remember why she didn’t use swords anymore. As she withdrew her sword, the Elf fell sideways with an almost silent thud. Sheathing the blade, Adantiel quickly drew her bow from her forearm. No way would they catch her off guard again… “Alaman, are you alright?” The girl made a final run to the Dragon and stood by his side priming an arrow. “It’s alright, now we can both be free!” Finally, a warm smile spread across her face. Edited by Blue, December 2, 2011, 1:25 am.
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'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever." | |
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| Juicesir | January 5, 2012, 11:34 pm Post #83 |
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
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"Perhaps you should, Rafti, but perhaps your friends need your help more." Denth sighed. "I suppose this would be where about I should help however." With not another look to Rafti or any other, the man bent down and began circling his hands across the earth. "I fare well, little one, but perhaps we should assist our captors." The dragon waged war upon the elves. In a flurry of bristling scales and greyfire, it created a circle of protection surrounding the groups of allies now gathered to its aid. It called to them and, surprisingly, they could all understand it. "Gather and defend, we can outmatch them. Alamandaneristhis, the great grey wyrm, brought a crushing blow down upon two autumns who were about to assault the Sa'ritae and her companions. The Autumns, however, were not without a fight it seemed. Out from the edge of the forest marched a figure clad in imposing metal armor from head to foot. Guarded by four elite spellcasters, it stepped onto the field of battle and made motion with its hands. The casters began leveling spells against the party of people. Bolts of vines shot at Žiar, one caster sent a gust of wind towards Aiuel which lifted her off her feet and carried her into the trees. The autumnal casters we evening the playing field. "Focus upon the casters! We need them removed. The dragon moved to shield Sa'ritae and the group from further assail, but it was obvious the dragon's strength as not as able as it had hoped. Pushing to stretch its wingspan, it created a barrier between the casters and the group, cutting off some lingering autumns from their apparent master. Denth gently turned his head in the direction of Rafti. "If... you would be so kind... I need... one of the Autumn elf's hearts... if you would please... so we can finish... this..." The effort it cost the man to speak was tremendous given he was rubbing his hands in circles across the dirt, but upon closer inspection there appeared to be a slight hum emanating from where he was sitting. Red veins of light began to spread from under his hands as if they were in earth and slowly crept away just under the surface towards each of the remaining Autumn elves. "You... can do that for me... can't you Rafti?" |
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| Vanity&Ecstasy | January 6, 2012, 12:27 am Post #84 |
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Thief of Hearts
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What seemed like an eternity for the man to respond was only in reality just a few seconds. His words we're still riddled in normal mystery and despite his best efforts Rafti was still irked by how he couldn't get a stable understanding of the man. 'Just pick a side already. Good or bad. Double crosser or not,' he thought letting none of his frustration show on his face. Watching the man closely it seemed that he was finally willing to be of some help in this rather outrageous battle. Ducking behind a nearby tree to watch what Denth was doing closer Rafti could, if barely, hear a slight hum emanating from Denth's direction. As he inspected the man's actions it seemed the dragon they were rescuing was finally beginning to act itself shouting words of some kind and swatting at a couple elves that dared try to attack. With another shout the dragon asked for aid from the group and while Rafti would have loved to help it seemed that Denth needed him for a task. A heart? Rafti guessed that any would do. Avoiding a stray spell Rafti found his way back to the single elf he had killed only minutes before. With a brief and strong exhale a sharp crystalline skin slowly formed over Rafti's hand and in one stab penetrated the dead elves body. A slightly warm sensation met Rafti's hand as the still warm corpse slowly began to bleed internally what little blood might be left. Reaching around Rafti's hand found what was the Autumn Elf's heart and with a quick tug severed the connecting lines. Removing his arm from the corpse Rafti held the deep crimson organ in his hand. The site reminded him of the time he had killed his family and how disgusted he was with himself at the time. Glancing over to Denth, Rafti retrieved his blade and with a strong throw sank the blade into a tree near Denth's position. A second time the pull of the blade's magic grabbed Rafti and teleported him to where the blade had landed. If he could Rafti would probably travel like this, but the amount of strength required to throw the blade a good distance and dig it out from whatever it penetrated was too much for Rafti to handle. Pulling the blade from the tree Rafti returned the magical weapon to its sheath and handed Denth the heart. "Will this do," he asked shortly wondering if a fresher heart was needed for what Denth was about to do. |
| Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character | |
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| Deleted User | January 6, 2012, 12:49 am Post #85 |
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Deleted User
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At last, something that would present a challenge. The dragon's voice boomed, and spoke of the casters that had escorted a heavily armored being into battle. Before anyone would be able to reach them however, the spell slinging casters would have to be eliminated. Unsure of the effects they could inflict upon his shadowy form, Shail quickly thought of a way to get to them quicker than his current form would allow him. Without a word, he focused his mind on shifting his form into something faster and more agile. His body faded into mist, and within the churning black fog, a new creature appeared. Now, where Shail had been standing, a slender, feline figure replaced him. It's long tail flicked in the air, in in a flash, the beast began to run. It's movements were lightning quick, darting between the battling elves. He was almost surely too fast to hit, as he was focused on speed and maneuvering between the chaotic mess around him. His goal was to get to the casters, to get to at least one of them, and take it out before it knew what was coming. Now was his chance, making his way through the battlefield, Shail had managed to flank the casters from the side. Lunging through the air, Shail hurled his body straight towards the caster, trying to blindside him and take him by surprise. Extending large black claws, the feline beast tried to sink them into the casters chest, it's jaws quickly moving to try and take a chunk out of the caster's throat. In a quick cry of pain, the caster was on it's back, large feline beast atop him. His cry was quickly silenced though, as one cannot scream without a throat. Instead, a mix of mucus and bloody bubbles gurgled out of the gaping wound. Shail, still in feline form, jumped off of the corpse, and darted to the side, dodging several arrows that had been fired in his direction. He quickly looked around for the other casters, not wanting to be blasted by one of their spells. |
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| Dream | January 6, 2012, 7:50 pm Post #86 |
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Mew?
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Watching the battle rage in front of her, Ri was torn between admiration and horror. She wasn't one for fighting, and the scene before her was something she was not used to at all. She had long since lost sight of Shail during the battle, but she knew that he was still there somewhere. His presence was hard for her to miss, both being of shadows themselves. Deciding that she would be of more help as a shield than anything, she weaved her way through bodies, both dead and living, until she was standing beside the dragon. "Um..." she began, speaking in the language of the elves for no other reason except that she figured that there would be the best chance of the dragon understanding her that way. "I do not know of how much help it may be, but I can shield you." she offered, her shadowy shield spreading from her body to envelope the dragon, and those allies who were nearby. She could feel herself weakening slightly as she did so; it was rare for her to use any of her abilities, let alone so much at once. She struggled to remain as tall-standing as she was, even managing to give the others a small smile. She then turned her attention back to the battle before her. She spotted her companion in his feline form, and gave a small grin. Despite the added threat of the casters, it seemed they weren't quite as bad off as it first appeared. ooc
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I'll whisper in your ear, You are mine, and you will never have to be alone. And when I pull you near, You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone. So let me be the one to lift you up, I'll carry you home. 'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe, And to catch you when you fall. | |
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| Juicesir | January 6, 2012, 8:39 pm Post #87 |
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
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"It would be of great help to me. If you would not mind, climb upon my back little one." The great beast lowered itself, presenting it's shoulder so that the small shadowed one could scale it. "Dearest sisters," he said, referring to Adantiel and Dantilae, "let us finish this business and then help the others climb upon my back. I believe the two men over there are about to end this madness." The dragon motioned with its snout to where Denth as seated on the ground with Rafti at his side. The great metal man strode upon to Shail, lifting him up bodily by both hands. Up close, the metal clad warrior was less featureless than when it had appeared from far. The mask it wore was of a strange design, with a face carved upon it and no apparent opening or lift. How the person inside saw must have been up to magic for the being encased in metal could see quite well enough to throw Shail upon a nearby tree, nearly breaking his back. The metal warrior then turned to the dragon, whereupon it held its hands up in a complex rhythm. Fire shot from out of its hands straight at Alamandaneristhis. "Quick little one! Your shield! I cannot stand such flame!" The fire ravaged the dragon's scales, spreading across its body in an instant. "Yes... it's fine... feed it... to me... I just need... a bite..." Denth, shaking and sweating profusely, turned his gaze upward from the enchantment he was weaving to look Rafti straight in the eye. "Would you kindly?" |
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| Vanity&Ecstasy | January 6, 2012, 9:45 pm Post #88 |
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Thief of Hearts
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The battle continued off to the side while Rafti was helping Denth with whatever it was the normal man had planned. The strange shadow man had taken out one of the mages that had just entered the battle. It seemed like his combat prowess was proving quite useful until the metal clad man simply picked the shadow-man up and tossed him aside. 'Interesting,' he thought shortly before returning attention to Denth. The man wanted him to feed him the heart now? That sounded like something demons did to power up. If that was what Denth was it might make sense why he was so normal and why he immediately approached Rafti when he had heard talk of a dragon. "I'll trust you on this one then," he said holding the heart to Denth's mouth and letting the man take his fill before the heart had been chewed into nothingness. |
| Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character | |
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| Dream | January 7, 2012, 4:47 am Post #89 |
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Mew?
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With a soft sigh, Ri lifted herself up onto the great creature's back. It was strange to view the world from such height. It gave her a view of the battle that she did not completely appreciate. She could now see far too much of the battle for her liking. Yet, in the safety of the dragon's back, she was able to focus more completely. The Shadeling flinched slightly as she saw Shail being thrown at a tree. That didn't look too good. Fortunately, she didn't have time to dwell on it, for the dragon soon spoke again. It took little more than a second for Ri to realize what was happening, and focus her shield more directly, protecting the dragon from the flames. She was just glad she could do her part in the battle; a part that didn't include killing anyone. ooc
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I'll whisper in your ear, You are mine, and you will never have to be alone. And when I pull you near, You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone. So let me be the one to lift you up, I'll carry you home. 'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe, And to catch you when you fall. | |
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| Deleted User | January 7, 2012, 5:51 am Post #90 |
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Deleted User
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Being caught off-guard wasn't something that happened to Shail too often. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but the beast in metal had moved itself upon him, and before he could react, Shail found himself being flung though the air. Slamming into a tree some twenty feet away, Shail's feline form fell to the ground hard. Somehow, the beast had not only managed to grab him, but it had been able to physically harm him. It had been a long while since Shaill had felt actual pain. Now his body burned with it. How... How did it do that?... Shail thought to himself, struggling to get to his feet, slipping out of his feline form to a misty broken up human form on his hands and knees. The pain still swirled through him, clouding his thoughts. It took several moments to recover enough to get to his feet and back into the mindset of battle. Once he had though, what he saw was bad. The dragon had taken on several "passengers" and the thing that had tossed Shail into the tree, was casting some form of powerful fire at the great Dragon. He'd heard the dragon roar that he could not endure such flames, and Shail was forced to show his hand. Something about the person in armor instilled a sense of fear in Shail he'd not experienced since he was alive. It was powerful, and something had to be done. Looking across the battlefield, Shail could see that that Denth and the barbarian were up to something, but he was not sure what, hopefully it was something good. Standing silently beneath the tree, Shail focused his thoughts, and began to run forward back towards the battle, towards the back of the metal clad warrior. Without warning, Shail used a good portion of his remaining strength, to summon his strongest form. His body twisted and morphed into a large, man-sized Shadow Drake, nearly six-feet tall at the shoulder, and seven-feet in length minus the tail. With a thunderous roar, Shail burst through several Elven warriors, tearing them apart clearing the path towards the metal-clad being. With another loud roar, Shail unleashed a storm of black fire from his shadowy fang filled mouth. Meant to be more of a distraction more so than anything else, Shail was unsure of what effect his attack would have on the target. His power drained, Shail was forced back into his human form, standing, staring into the black smoky fog that had engulfed the armor-clad being. Tired, but standing at the ready, Shail watched the mist, waiting to see what would come from it. He knew his showing would more than get the attention of the others, so he hoped that if the thing were to survive, that someone would assist him. Re-dying in vain was not something Shail wanted to go through, if that happened to be possible, for some reason though, that idea did not seem too far fetched at the moment. Shail had acted without much thought for himself, which was uncommon. It was strange, but something drove him to act. Something had made him lash out and try and aide the Dragon, as well as the people he'd been traveling with. The battlefield was not a place for such thoughts however, so Shail did not concern himself with that for the moment. He'd done what he'd done, and now the results of his actions would be revealed. |
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| Jei Ai | January 11, 2012, 6:25 am Post #91 |
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Member
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Twice, the mighty King had moved to defend her, and Sa’ritae could feel his sincerity beneath her fingers. Despite his own turmoil, the great Being saw to it that no harm was laid upon the Summer or her companions – both those enchanted with Svaminiri potion and those not. A smile pulled at her lips, even was she worked hard to heal her quarry. Indeed, this was the godly sovereign she had sought after for so long. He would help her heal this broken world, with its broken creatures and broken hearts. The chains were smashed and hoisted from him by the collective effort of her Winter kin and her barbarian defender, and now they stood together upon the universal orders of the royal creature, banding together as one to defend and succeed. The tiny, fragile Ri, who seemed not built for the sight of battle, sat upon the King’s back, hands raised and eyes focused, concentration masking her face as a great shadowy shield spread from her form and melted over the small clan. Attacks were thrown again and again from the thinning army of Autumns, and the disastrous spellcasters that marched their way. But still Ri held, and Sa’ritae sent her heart out to her in thanks. Looking down, Sa’ritae gathered all her magic within her chest, pulling it inward in preparation of her task. Beckoned by the King himself, she was called to climb upon him like a ranger to a horse. It was only then she noticed that Ri was joined by another being upon the wounded dragon. A wild, black-eyed woman whose aura radiated a certain loyalty and affection for the creature she straddled, sat with strong legs behind the mighty one’s head, speaking in a coarse language and called the King by name. “Alaman, breoth nothr kolek?” The language was harsh and seemed to suit the strange girl perfectly. But most curious, was the strange force emanating from the heart of the girl. For not one, but two auras could be felt pulsating about her form. One was stubborn, fierce and untamed, while the other was cautious, wise and life-scarred. Sa’ritae had never felt such an unusual force, but the intrigue brought a smile to her beautiful face as she looked up into the wild one’s eyes. She was a special kind of human. Turning back once to her Autumn captive, she called a gentle command in sweet Prithvayan, “And now, my sweet, I should have you run – run fast into the woods – and don’t stop until not even magic can aid your exhausted feet. It would please me and bring a sweet smile to my face, dearest. So run now, run fast!” Blushing, and nodding with a certain determination in his honey-golden eyes, the Autumn turned and began a sprint into the woods, quickly disappearing from the battlefield. The spell would wear out before his feet or heart did, but she was at least able to both remove him as an enemy and save him from the fate of his brothers that lay already fallen. And so only the barbarian Saleos remained, poison still pulsing through is pulmonary’s. Here, Sa’ritae found herself in somewhat of a predicament as to what to do. She could not simply send him away into the woods, and time was running thin; the King needed her. She would have to decide now. Unlike his brother in arms, he was likely to harm the dragon if he remained and the magic should wear off. Yet in horrid opposite, he remained a part of the party, and seemed eager to remain by her side for now. In a flash of inspiration, Sa’ritae skipped lightly over to the beast of a man – this would take some careful coaxing and some simple sign language. Touching his shoulder gently, the Summer pulled at his attention. Smiling softly, she pointed over his shoulder towards the battle mages that were now battling a shadowy draconian figure. “Shail,” she spoke softly, hoping he would understand what she meant. Pointing again with motion, she hoped the hired muscle would see her message; she wished him to aid the Shadeling for the purpose of her own protection. If the mages made their way toward the small party, they would undoubtedly bring the terror of Autumn with them. They were the greatest threat the both Sa’ritae and the small gathering around the dragon, and she hoped Saleos would see that too and spring into action. As a final token of encouragement, the Summer reached up on her toes and kissed the man’s cheek sweetly, finishing with a tiny giggle and a blessed smile. He would be relieved from the spell soon enough, and she needed him away from the dragon. Twirling in place, her beautiful scarlet dress fanning out about her bare ankles and naked feet, the Summer turned back to her King and sunk into a graceful curtsey once more. It was a sign of respect, before she began her ascent onto his back to aid those that already sat proudly upon him. Stepping forward on her bare feet, Sa’ritae gently alighted onto the dragon’s flank, setting her foot delicately in place before pushing herself upwards, reaching for a scale to aid her. The Elf was practically weightless, and she knew her climb would bring no discomfort to the wounded King. But he was still just that – a King – and a certain fragility was expected in his treatment, in the Summer’s mind anyway. But all formality was quickly forgotten when a great cry of warning burst from the mighty creature, and a tidal wave of flame came down upon the group gathered with the sovereign. With hardly a moment to spare for a breath, the tiny and shy Ri had focused her shield inward, bracing the shadows around them and held off the fiery attack from the Autumns. But she was using a great amount of energy, and here Sa’ritae could still help. Hastening her feet, the light and graceful Summer Elf completed her climb and seated herself upon the dragon, riding side-saddle and gripping tightly to a rather dangerous spine that stood in defence of the King. Indicating her status as ‘friend’ and not ‘foe’, Sa’ritae winked and smiled beautifully at the wild woman she’d stared at before and sent a small and gentle wave of peace and calm towards the woman; Sa’ritae meant her no harm, and she would understand that. “Sa’ritae,” she seemed to whisper, yet her voice could be heard above the roar of the fire as she touched a delicate hand to her chest to indicate herself and her name. With a final smile, Sa’ritae turned back towards Ri and began her song, harnessing her power that would in turn grant greater power, fortitude, and most importantly luck, to her dear allies. “Quithil prian ta’ast nithrii, Alastriith nae Svaminiri, Fai plaithi ri’isth favir, To vaminirili lii savii quaeriir! Fend off the flames of evil, And pull your limbs up high, Summer watches over you, Lay trust in your ally!” Through her words, she knew those gathered would feel renewed, and though she did not harness their powers or skills, she weaved her song in the hopes of aiding their strength and will. The dragon was beyond her aid in this instance, for the Summer could only focus on one piece of magic at a time. The beast’s outer wounds were closed, and all bleeding had ceased. A longer, more focused session in a later and calmer time would be necessary to soothe the King back to full health. But for the time being, his life remained intact, and his body able to move. Just how much would depend on his own strength, and whether he – and their allies – listened to Sa’ritae’s encouraging voice. She prayed to Mother Earth and Father Sun that they would make it out alive. |
![]() 'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare' Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC Image by Vertify | |
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| Blue | January 13, 2012, 2:29 am Post #92 |
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The Token Australian
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“You got it.” Nodded Adantiel as their attackers all brought on what appeared to be the concluding wave. An air of finality hung in the atmosphere and beckoned an end to the immediate conflict. Spells, Elements, blood and bodies flew in all directions. As the Huntress scanned the area, she caught sight of a monstrous metal object trudging towards them. Fear attempted to take her over, but before it got the chance, Dantilae seized control instead. With a hiss, the Alter primed another arrow and aimed for the head of the metal man. His face was covered behind a mask of dark steel, and the archer couldn’t make out what it was exactly she was about to take on. Regardless, the figure’s hands were glowing, and anyone could tell that glowing hands were hardly ever a good thing. One of Alaman’s saviours – a Shadeling of all things - was ordered onto his back and asked to perform a task that the sister’s hadn’t quite caught. Before they knew it, the Shadeling was casting a great shield that appeared to defend both the Great Beast and those in immediate proximity of it. Dantilae stared deeply into the metal mans helm, trying desperately to see the face of her foe. But there was nothing, just a blackness that threatened to swallow them all up. The monster continued advancing on the Dragon. His hands were now throwing intense flames that even her fellow prisoner was having trouble with. There were no means by which the Huntress could defeat that man, and it took every fibre in her being to keep from trying. Running away from a fight was something her sister would do. However, she knew full well that her arrows couldn’t possibly pierce armour that thick – especially when her target with so heavily clad in it. The girl had a feeling that the fire he was throwing was not of the ordinary sort, and that it was almost certainly not the best attack he could throw. Another hiss escaped her lips as she turned back to Alaman and climbed up onto his back. She would fight this man another day. She looked out across the battlefield, seeing the last of the Elves being eliminated by the other... Shadeling..? If it had any humanity before, it was all gone now. His stature paled in comparison to her dear Dragon, but he was still rather sizable. Suddenly, she felt another presence behind her, startlingly warm and enticing. Looking over her shoulder, Dantilae caught sight of the Summer Elf her sister had seen just prior to all Hellfyre breaking loose. She placed her hand to her chest and whispered a word. Dantilae nodded slowly, still trying to focus on her surroundings. It was almost futile; there was something about that Elf. The face lingered in Dantilae’s mind even as she turned away. A proper introduction at a later time was certainly better suited to all. So, deciding to be rude now and polite later, the Huntress went back to work, priming the same arrow that had been marked for the metal man. This time however, she looked for Caster that she could pick off. What came next, she could never have predicted. A sweet song broke out over the top of the hellish sounds of battle, and all of a sudden, the Ildari felt their strength return, as though she hadn’t been killing Autumns and running around all morning. They were sound in both mind and body, and were made to feel completely calm again. Dantilae turned to look over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was Sa’ritae singing a sweet melody. The Huntress did not understand the words, but nevertheless could feel her spirits heighten and for the first time in a few days, she smiled with a genuine innocence. However, as the battle continued around them, she knew that many of those still on the ground would not live to hear a second verse. As the Summer Elf fell silent once more, the Ildarian threaded her bow and replaced her arrow. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began her own incantation in Kamarasi, the first language she ever learnt to speak. The language of Nature. “Vintakos an sha Vilde, Alack Tevet, ad va Shun! Et valias an sudec, Tev O’Kah. Hun vila sha Strusak et Kavun!” “Predator of the Wild, By our Contract, lend your Maw! Let fly a howl of retreat, Brave Wolf. And permit us the Strength to Withdraw!” Upon the last word of the incantation, another sound pierced through the clearing at that moment. A lone, white wolf stood howling atop a small hill off to the side of the battle. The sound was almost deafening, and as it resonated around the battlefield, it sent a simple, unspoken message to all of their Allies: “Live to fight another day. Leave this place.” ‘Aooooooooow!” Dantilae howled along in unison with the O’kah, having always loved the sounds her life-long friend made. It brought warmness to her heart, which doubled up upon the warmth that the Summer Elf made her feel, and made her smile once more. But now was not the time to bask in warm feelings and sentimental sounds. Dantilae stood up on the Dragon’s back and raised her voice as loud as it would go. “RETREAT! GATHER AROUND THE DRAGON!” She bellowed in Lowric, hoping that at least half of the group would understand her. |
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'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever." | |
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| Wicked | January 16, 2012, 3:26 am Post #93 |
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The Derp Queen
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Sweat weaved through the crevasses in Žiar’s brow as she focused in on the Autumn elves that swarmed in, a steady flood of them surrounding the woman as she worked her blade through those in her immediate area. She didn’t bother to wrap her mind around the fact that she was outnumbered. Outnumbered meant nothing to the assassin, because it spelled possible death and death was not acceptable. She was out for her survival, even now as she fought to save the dragon from the elves’ captivity. She would stay alive for as long as possible, secure the dragon’s safety, and get back to her home in one piece to live another day, and then some more. It was a blessing, or possibly a curse, that Žiar had a strong sense of commitment to her duties. Even if she didn’t, another backing was her stubbornness, her fight. To retreat was never an option for her. So, she went on. Even as the vines came to challenge her tolerance of all this madness. A stream of curses flew from her mouth, nasty enough to make the foulest troll blush, as one green digit wrapped around her armed hand and yanked back. The elf she was battling saw a very convenient opening and advanced on her. Luckily, her legs were yet to be attacked and she kicked at the elf to buy her time, flinching against the cutting grip of the vine. More were shooting forth, wrapping around her weapon and tearing it from her, others going to seize limbs. It aimed to disable her; an easy target for any of the elves here! It was enough to make the woman burn and see red. Cheaters! Bloody, magical cheaters! “Fucking hell, why don’t you people just die?” She hissed, struggling against the vines, a few of them snapping and others clinging on like weeds. The elf himself was even having a hard time getting through the forestry, she almost laughed at that, and Žiar finally took her teeth to the green things in an attempt to tear them off. Between the yanking and biting, she managed to free one arm and that was enough to punch the elf, and lull the dagger in her other boot out from other the vines and into her capable hand. She cut at them then and flung herself at her sword, grabbing it. Grinning as her battle attire was completed once more, Žiar finished off the current elf and turned her attention to the casters, who were systematically getting slashed at by some shadow creature. At least she wasn’t the only one dealing with the tedious monsters. She couldn’t watch for long, though, as yet another came for her as the battlefield seemed to clear. There was a booming voice, one that Žiar fixed to be the dragon’s as it couldn’t possibly be another’s, and she found herself rushing to finish off any attackers that came onto her path. People were gathering around the grand creature, a few boarding upon it’s back, and she knew if she didn’t hurry to its side she would be left behind. And after all she’d just done to get the dragon to safety? That most certainly would not do. As a song wafted through the air, the assassin was invigorated despite her muscles’ growing complaints and a pleasured smile pulled her lips up. She fought on, feeling more than knowing that an end was coming soon enough. As she fended off the remaining Autumn elves, Žiar maneuvered backwards as to shorten the distance between she and her goal: the dragon. She’d have to figure out what to do with the others, since they were not part of her plan and could not possibly be included despite her more than… lovely personality. But this was not the moment to dwell on the possibility of unwanted company because it seemed it was a package deal. Either she got her dragon, along with a few misfits, or she was left with a bunch of disgusting elves who were more than ready to tear her to bits. No one said her job was a fun, or clean one but for heavens’ sake couldn’t it be that way just this once? “Retreat! Gather around the Dragon!” She heard the cry from somewhere behind her, and Žiar picked up on it well enough. She was backing up even more than before, watching as the elves seemed to dwindle, and she gave out a breath of relief. This would end soon enough. Soon enough. She continued to chant this to herself as she backed up further and further, until she could almost hear the sound of the dragon’s mighty heart beat. |
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| Juicesir | January 16, 2012, 8:20 pm Post #94 |
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
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"Right then... ADIV HKI TREMS!" A terrible sound emerged from Denth's lips. The words, choked through a mouthful of Autumn elf heart, sounded as plague upon the ears of any all who could hear it. The veins of red light suddenly pulsed a vibrant otherworldly hue, a red brighter than any blood or sky. Then, they shot out along the ground, twisting through the earth and forming up around the legs of each of the remaining Autumn elves. The strands peeked through the ground. Vibrant and bright, the tendrils of red spurred up the heels of each remaining Autumn. It seemed the that bright red light was a physical thing, trapping their legs, cocooning them, and binding them to the ground. In a matter of seconds every Autumn, whether they were in a tree or on the ground, was bound to some surface. Suddenly, the veins pulsed as one, and Denth shouted another word. "TAYLBERTOP." It seemed as if it was whispered, coaxed from the surrounding environment. As it was said, the veins grew the brightest yet and in one moment, every Autumn was turned to ash and bone. Screams tore through the clearing and then were silenced. The tendrils withdrew, and Denth stood. "Well, that was... unpleasant." One thing that was still moving in the clearing, however, was the man of metal. Shail's black fire now sloughing off of the being, it stood as if nothing had harmed it. A new black fire erupted from its hands and it raised them to the sky. Black particles, from all around the clearing and specifically from the area of each of the now dead piles of Autumns, were being drawn to the metal being's hands. The black particles could also be seen being drawn from the area surrounding Aiuel, and the Winter elf could feel an easier time of concentrating on not killing all the people around her. Her very aura, her very essence, was being drawn away and gathered by the metal being. "If I may suggest something..." Denth said, limping over to the dragon, "I think it is... time for us to leave." Denth seemed drained of all ability, and as he struggled to make it touch the dragon, the metal beast drew more darkness to its hands. "I agree. Everyone get a hand on me. Quickly!" The dragon called out to all those around it. Alamandaneristhis crouched low, spreading the great worn and leathery wings across the ground. When everyone was touching, the king spoke. "Th'kth..." It was the king's move. Bright, grey light filled the clearing and in an instant before a great black cloud reigned fire from the metal beast's hands the dragon and all of its company were gone. For all who touched the dragon, it was as if they had blinked for a moment from all of existence. Colors that were literally indescribable blasted around them, and a light grey light drew closer from the distance. And then, they were still. A mountainside cave, nestled far and high away somewhere in the Loftring. "Aiuel! You found Alaman! Who are your friends? What's going on?!" Tear was out of her mind with surprise, which was saying something. In the middle of her meal, wondering where Aiuel had gone off to, her friend and the dragon she'd been seeking had landed right in her lap with a company of many fellows. "Where did you come from? Oh my greatness! You look hurt! Here." Tear set to work, laying hands on all who looked wounded and relieving them with a green light. It was a similar feeling that anyone who recognized Summer magic could feel. It was gentle, sleepy feeling. Tear moved from person to person, making sure each was well. |
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| Deleted User | January 18, 2012, 8:07 pm Post #95 |
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Deleted User
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With all of their efforts ending in utter failure, Shail was faced with no other option than retreat. Moving quickly, Shail used the chaos of the dying elves and the others moving to make his way towards the dragon. It had called out to them all. It needed them, and now they needed it to escape. Without another thought, Shail placed his hands upon the side of the dragons leg, and closed his hazy eyes. What seemed only several moments, the entire fabric of the world as he knew it ripped away, and they were whisked off through a strange multicolored vortex formed by very powerful magic. As soon as it started, it had come to an end, and they were all inside some large cave, with a strange girl there. Shail remained silent and backed away from the dragon, taking in his surroundings before anything else, taking mental notes of who was still with them and where they were. It would be some time before he spoke again, waiting to see what the dragon would have to say, who this new girl was and what purpose she had in all of this. What purpose did any of them have? It would be a very interesting situation with everyone inside the cave, having just fought a large battle, each person with their own reasons for why they fought. Very interesting to say the least. OOC
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| Jei Ai | January 20, 2012, 7:37 am Post #96 |
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Member
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A vortex of colour surrounded the group, and in a spiralling, spinning confusion of light and rainbows, they seemed to travel through space and time itself. The Lord of this vortex radiated powerful magic from beneath Sa’ritae’s fingertips, and she knew it was the dragon that pulled them now to safety through this wondrous and technicolour plane. Even with her keen elven eyesight, Sa’ritae was unable to entirely distinguish the world around her as the colours blurred and churned about the somewhat larger fellowship and their King. Within half an instant, the colours evaporated, leaving Sa’ritae with a slowly fading sickness just below her naval that she only now realised she must have experienced the entire time they travelled through the colourful nexus. As the nausea of magically-powered travel left her system, Sa’ritae focused back on the dragon, caring little for where they might be just for the moment. She had faith that wherever they had landed, her King would have undoubtedly selected only the safest of places for now. He had her trust. Shifting forward and delicately manoeuvring around the forms that were yet to dismount from the King, Sa’ritae worked her way to sit just behind the mighty creature’s head, being careful to avoid the blade-sharp horns that lay on either side across the top of his crown. Gently but firmly, she lay her hands upon the only sensible place one might deduce to be temples of the dragon’s head, and closed her eyes under a furrowed brow of concentration. A gentle golden light began to seep from Sa’ritae’s fingertips and palms, pulsing into the dragon with every heartbeat and filling him with Summer magic. The quiet stillness on offer now that battle was done granted the Summer the effort she needed to summon the full magic of the Svaminiri, and with great love and respect for the creature flooding her veins and swelling her heart, Sa’ritae began: “Sei se’vunair rithliir, Eayii quer taerii svanae! Satviire maniiv ailiir vansuei mithrii! Niithril pulathii harith nu liath!!” In a sudden rush, golden light trickled down and radiated from beneath the King’s scales, rushing out from behind his natural armour and bathing his entire form in the healing magic of the Summer. The brilliant light pulsed, and a distinct thu-thumping could be heard with every twitch of the light: an amplification of the dragon’s heartbeat. Gradually, his heart grew stronger, louder and healthier as Sa’ritae poured her love and care for the dragon into her healing magic. Visibly, the King’s scales began to repair where tears had been made against his flesh; his strength returned to his aching muscles; his bruised bones were restored to their strong and sturdy state; his body and his health was completely restored by the beautiful elf’s magic. At last the golden light began to recede, revealing a King that was indeed a mighty sight to behold. Sighing with joyous exhaustion, Sa’ritae slid gracefully from the great creature’s neck, and alighted soundlessly on the floor of what she now saw was a cave. But as she moved to heal her fellows, she saw they were restored and glowing already with the light of health. Confused only momentarily, Sa’ritae felt before she saw the source of the magic: “A fellow Summer!” A squeal of delight spilled from the delicate lips of the Summer as she gushed forward, dancing towards her absolute kin and glowing more radiant than ever before. Giggling, Sa’ritae came to an elegant stop before her fellow Sun mistress, gazing with wide and honey-brown eyes at her seasonal sister. It had been far too long since she had been close to another Summer, and Sa’ritae revelled in it. Standing there, in the glow of the other Summer, she was able to feel the pulsing happiness, joy and purity that radiated from her race, and she swam in its warmth. The girl was excited – thrilled even – to see the dragon, and it was clear to the Summer that her kin and the great King held some kind of history; there was familiarity in their eyes. But whatever the emotions, whatever the feelings, Sa’ritae was happy to just be able to feel the glow of a Summer, and have her aura felt in return by her kin. The beautiful elf pulsated joy and fond greetings at her sister, wondering if the sensations were just as comforting for her as they had been for Sa’ritae. How long had it been since she had felt the company of a Summer elf…? “I am Sa’ritae, friend! And who are you, sister of the light!? How long it has been since I felt the belief in Antiya flowing so strongly!” Edited by Jei Ai, January 20, 2012, 7:38 am.
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![]() 'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare' Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC Image by Vertify | |
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| That Butler | August 6, 2012, 6:12 pm Post #97 |
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Bad Jew
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This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.
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5:40 PM Jul 13