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 Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 11:05 pm
Roy had arrived just in time to see Nils explode on Shinon. He couldn't help but chuckle at his Uncle as he watched the scene. Oh nice...Uncle had just OHKO'd a morph without even looking...with just a flute too! The young lord figured he'd think twice about getting smacked by that flute of Uncle's. The elder dragon could have a short temper sometimes. He hurried over to the bard.
"Uncle...you think FD needs a hand...?" he asked, drawing the Light Brand to pass Nils to block a blow one of the morphs was about to perform on Uncle's head from behind. Sneaky little morph mercenaries.
He shoved the morph back as his hand gripped the Sword of Seals. He drew the sword and spun, impaling the morph with the second blade.
"Mom's worried about you...you and FD didn't return from hunting for food. She thought something happened to you guys." he told Nils, holding both swords ready to protect his bard Uncle.
Roy had become much better at dual wielding since the Halloween event.
((Lol...Roy dual-wielding. XD
Nice rant on Shinon Uncle.))
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 11:29 pm
Soren had trudged across the field after the Antaram wielder had taken her departure. He had been fortunate enough to escape whatever wrath the gwyllgi rider had in store, and standing around would have only stressed his fortune. Soren kept his senses open to his surroundings and allowed his presence to fluctuate with the chaos of the battlefield. The flexibility of his aura allowed undesirable energies to pass through without impacting his actual being, ensuring that he was at a constant level of calm, as though he was utilizing the chaos to mask himself rather than allowing it to affect him. A few stray monsters took notice of the lone figure casually strolling by and swiftly crossed a great distance to reach him, though the distance was so great they could not escape his own notice. A few Fire spirits encircled in vortexes of Wind subdued the creatures long enough for him to slip back under cover of the trees.
"Pitch. Usamireak."
The dark slate rouncey hesitantly emerged from the safety of the shrubbery. Soren immediately vaulted himself back into the saddle and took up the reins, scanning the area boredly as Pitch entered a trot. The trot soon strengthened to a canter, the rouncey's mane shaking from its neck, Soren's hair and robes flapping and fluttering. He isolated himself from the tremors that thrummed through Pitch's body through the footfalls of sturdy hooves against earth.
It was as though the monsters, subdued from his trick earlier, had thirstily awaited his glorious return. Mauthe doogs gaped with their slobbering snarls, revenants raised their rusted swords in a warcry they failed to voice. Soren spurred the rouncey straight into a gallop. They charged through the monsters as flame and wind blossomed around the two, enveloping and consuming the monsters with hardly a whisper.
A glint in the distance directed him toward a peculiar scene. The enemy had turned on itself, it appeared to him, for a figure had just cut down a morph with lance in hand. The mage led Pitch in that direction as the morph was colliding with the ground in silence, a bow falling from its hand and arrows scattering from its quiver. Soren whispered to the air and Wind spirits manifested around him. The glowing orbs swiftly trailed after their summoner, their tails swirling curious patterns behind them as they flew. He was keeping his guard up.
Blond hair and a voice belied the figure's apparent identity.
"Anyone!"
Soren pulled up to Amelia, gazing down rather mercilessly at her. The Wind spirits slid to a halt and hovered by him in standby. He flicked his eyes over her form, immediately processing the fact that she was wearing the enemy's armor yet seemed to be seeking the ally. Something about her was also very disturbed. He could discern that Amelia had been in a rush to arrive. Not only did she seek to lend assistance, but she too sought comfort in the presence of those she knew and loved.
The Wind spirits suddenly shot away, bulleting into nearby morphs and wrapping around them with blades lusting for lifeblood.
"The dracolich," he flatly informed her. "This way."
He directed Pitch to turn around. The rouncey refused to respond to his silent commands at first, tossing in the spot and spluttering. Enemy units closing in were distracted by the spirits that Soren dispatched, unable to approach Amelia or him. Eventually he persuaded the rouncey to trot forward, not a flicker of frustration on his face nor in his soul, not even relief or worry. Soren merely led Amelia to the dracolich in dutiful silence. Despite what he had sensed, he determined that Amelia was still in fighting condition and was better off being on the battlefield than off in some safe refuge. Besides, warriors with Amelia's attitude had the stubborn tendency to prefer the thick of battle to the shame of safety.
As he advanced, he swept the area before him with great blades of Wind to stave off oncoming monsters and morphs. Those that slipped past were up to Amelia to destroy or finish. He made sure that the foe tumbled and tripped, opening their insides with Wind or cooking them with Fire. Occasionally he would call Thunder down upon exceptionally quick nuisances. Not too far away, the dracolich was flailing and hissing.
Soon Pitch and Soren were in the general area where Lady Isadora and Rhys were facing the dracolich. Pitch slowed to a halt, snorting and ducking its head. Soren lifted his and fixed the decaying beast in his stare.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 5:26 am
Victoria was a lot closer to the sounds of Amelia's voice... and then she noticed that Mage Knight coming into what looked like... escort her to the battlefield? Either way, it was good to see that another had finally escaped. Less for the priestess to think and worry about.
The bishop held up the blue gem of the Psychic staff, just seeing if it would work its magic and heal someone from a great distance. When the sapphire-colored magic stone had no reaction, it was a good sign that no one needed healing, so she could once again open her Purge tome and chant its wonders.
"Smite the evil before me..." she muttered the rest of the incantation to make the Purge spell more powerful, and flashed it into the Dracozombie fiercely.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 7:23 am
Fa began to feel woozy as she used a little too much energy from the dragon stone. Fa put the energy back into the dragonstone and reverted back to the little girl form that people loved. Fa began to feel a little more woozy and stumbled her away across the field and plopped down next to a man. "Uhnn....Brothah Sowen? Is that you?" Fa asked faintly cause she couldn't make out who it was.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:33 am
Turning Tuomas around, Isadora went into another charge for the umpteenth time. She was unsure how many time she sliced the monster with her sword. In addition, it seemed that the cuts she made had resealed themselves too.
She wasn't sure how would Rhys' plan work. The paladin fully understood that the plan was to drain Evelyn's energy by attacking the monster. However, it felt like Evelyn was draining their strength and energies more than they could to her. How is it possible? Isadora thought as she went under the Dracozombie and cut the belly across before coming out of the front. Surely, it would waste her more than us. After all, there are more against one.
Pulling her horse to slow down, she noticed another figure approached. There was Soren riding his mount. And further from Soren was Victoria casting her Purge spell. Good, we need all the assistants we can to stop this beast. Isadora thought determined as she turned her horse and went for another charge.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 9:11 am
Amelia slid to the side and cut down an approaching attacker with a swift slice to the belly. One hand still held onto the boxes. She didn't even watch the morph fall; she returned to trying to locate familiar faces. Who is even fighting all these things? Did Mika really create so many morphs? How the hell does she have enough power... no, right. She... has Loki's power, doesn't she? Amelia suppressed the shiver. She managed to deflect an arrow in its path with a sweep of her lance, then paused at the shadow falling over her. Her eyes went up, finding a somewhat familiar face with a figure enrobed in multiple shades of white.
"The dracolich. This way."
Amelia followed in silence; there wasn't much to say after that flat address. She kept her eyes on the wind spirits around them. Amelia wasn't a mage by any means, but Soren clearly had great control over the magic he possessed. The barriers were not perfect, though, and Amelia realized that Soren was not going to be able to hold off the hordes and split his concentration to pick off stragglers, too. Amelia's prowess with her own weapon of choice made quick work of the morphs and odd monster that slipped between his forces and towards them.
Dracolich... why would one of those unnatural things be here? For that matter, why are any of these Magvelian monsters here? Amelia slashed an approaching mauthe doog's throat open and let it fall to the grass as she hurried along behind Soren. She took care not to approach the rouncey too closely; horses were prone to kicking from behind. Amelia had to wonder just how far she had thought the main source of battle was originally, because she reached the dracolich incredibly quickly. Amelia turned her head up to the beast; her eyes narrowed as she gripped her spear more tightly.
The damage, both recovered and fresh, was evident enough in the sloughing, decaying flesh of the beast. By the way the other fighters--Isadora, Victoria, Rhys--were attacking it, they had been going for a long time. Amelia could almost see the Paladin's fatigue.
"It and those other beasts couldn't have got here unless they was summoned..." Amelia murmured. "And... if the dracolich, for one, has a summoner, then they can direct power to it. Keep it standing." Amelia paused, then spoke again, her voice a little louder now. "We have to target the power source." Amelia turned her eyes up to Soren. "Take down the summoner, and the dracolich has nowhere from which to receive strength. It'll fall."
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 10:50 am
"...Uggh. Killing an undead dragon shouldn't BE this hard..."
Rhys was now down on one knee, panting and sweating. Most of the extra quintessence had been used up on this assault, as well as most of Shine. That dragon was STILL standing... it seemed as though no matter what they did, the dragon just pieced itself back together.
...At this rate, Evelyn was going to wear them down before they could her. Worse yet, she didn't even have to try. He'd thought that maybe if they all attacked at once, she'd tire out and go away, but apparently, he'd been wrong. AGAIN. He started to wonder if maybe he just shouldn't think anymore and just leave. It'd be a hell of a lot easier than sticking around here than screwing up again and again and again, that was for sure.
"This is... this isn't working," he called out finally to the others. "Nothing we do seems to be affecting it. It's not attacking for now--let's look for the summoner... someone should keep an eye on it just in case."
He took out Nosferatu again. Shine was nearly finished, anyway. He stepped forward, unsure how he was still himself staying on his feet...
"...Huh? Hi, Amelia," he muttered as he walked past her, trying to look toward the clearings ahead, get away from the fire...
...Wait a minute.
"...Amelia!?"
He snapped to attention and turned around. The armor was that of the enemy, sure, but she was right behind Soren (...But I thought he went all crazy in the attic!), still looking the same.
"H-how did you...? When did... ohh, thank goodness you're out," he finished, hugging her for a second to both make sure it was really her AND to find a shoulder to rest on for a bit before letting go.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 11:25 am
"Understood. Eliminate the summoner," Soren responded, confirming what their true objective was. He dismissed himself from Amelia's and Rhys's company with a quick nod before turning Pitch away.
He knew who the summoner was. But even as he searched the field for the gwyllgi rider, Soren had yet to formulate a strategy for approaching her, much less defeat her. She was one of the fabled Nine Heroes after all. The option of retreat continued to lurk in the shadows of his mind, of course. But considering who most of the ally was, retreat might not happen all too soon.
"Lady Isadora, pull back and regain your strength," the mage called, turning his mount around once more to face the dracolich. He softly raised a hand. Spirits of all elements of Reason teleported into existence: Fire spirits rotating in plumes of flame, Thunder spirits sparking in place, Wind peacefully hovering at random positions around their summoner.
Soren was not willing to dismount on the spot. While he was more mobile on his own two feet, he was not up for allowing some random morph to steal the rouncey away. Soren snapped his fingers, silently commanding his spirits to disperse and behave on their own. His little company of magic shot away from him and immediately engaged the nearest morphs and monsters it could detect. Pitch reluctantly stepped forward on its rider's orders toward the dracolich.
Ancient words fell from his lips. His body again took on the glow of the Wind's enchantment, his clothing and hair seeming to take on the lightness of feathers as the arcane coursed through his veins. Malachi poked its head out of the collar of his robe. As the bat clung there and glanced around excitedly, Pitch began to encircle the dracolich. Soren had figured no one was willing to abandon the undead dragon for its summoner, so he determined to assist in their efforts to keep the creature at bay. If the summoner came to them, then all the better. Light magic fared better against this sort of sorcery, so Rhys and that female bishop in the distance could easily provide.
"Ezakoo."
A simple spell, equaling in design to the basic Wind tome's, lashed out from the infinitesimal fabric of the cosmos and slammed into the dracolich.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 11:42 am
Nils rolled his eyes, not bothering to retaliate to Shinon's remarks. It'd be just be a waste of time, breath, and energy.
Instead, he turned towards the rather familiar voice, a small smile coming on his face. "Nephew..." The bard gave his beloved nephew a quick nod. "I'd appreciate it if you did anyways." He stepped out of the way, letting Roy take care of the morph that was about to strike--
He brought the flute up and backwards, whamming another morph in the face. Wa-BAM! He chuckled softly, deciding to keep the instrument in his hand. Maybe he should go without the dragon stone for a bit longer... building up strength would be helpful, anyways.
He flinched slightly when Roy mentioned Ninian. Oops. He knew he had forgotten something. Nils laughed sheepishly. "Sorry about that... but as long as Hikaru's by my side, I'll be fine." A proud grin came to his face as he watched Roy dual wield.
... Or was that one of jealousy?
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 12:10 pm
Roy smiled at his Uncle, glad that he was noticed.
"I'll give him a hand once we clear up this lot." the young lord told the bard as they continued to fight the morphs.
He brought the Light Brand up, blocking a Devil's axe that a Morph Hero was using, while the Sword of Seals was currently occupied holding off a Morph swordsman's Silver sword. He kicked the Hero back a little, pulling the light sword with him to strike at the swordsman as the flame sword swung around to cut the axe-user. An arm was sent flying from the morph swordsman as the axe-user was almost cut in half...almost. He pulled the Light Brand back to impale the sword user before turned around to finish off the axe-user with a Critical Hit.
It was difficult fending off multiple enemies at once, but he was still learning.
He nodded to his Uncle's words of apology. "I'll let Mother know when I get back." he told him.
The young lord noticed the bard grinning at him, but was unsure of its message. He noticed an archer a little distance away, preparing an arrow. Flames sprouted around the Sword of Seals as he turned to face the archer just as it fired.
"Oh no you don't!" said Roy, slicing the bolt in two with the Light Brand before swinging the Sword of Seals. "Explosion!"
A powerful blast of fire engulfed the archer, no doubt causing some serious damage. After all...the Sword of Seals was one of the legendary weapons from Elibe that was capable of felling even dragons.
((Or so says the manga. sweatdrop Is it really capable of freezing people too like when Zephiel uses it to freeze Al in the manga?))
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 12:49 pm
(( Uhhhhm. I actually have no clue on the whole "freezing" part. 8D;; -hasn't read the manga- ))
Nils sighed in relief. "Thank you..." He believed in FD, yes, but after seeing what Misura was able to do and not knowing if that was everything she could do, he rather have as many people assisting FD as possible.
He raised his flute to his lips, playing a quick tune for his Nephew, keeping his fighting spirit alive and well. Sure, Nils had gotten some lucky shots with some of the morphs, but music was his true talent. He carefully weaved away from a morph attempting to decapitate him while he played, pausing to smash the flute once more against the morph's skull. The morph crumpled to the ground and the tune picked up once more, finishing with a fermata and crescendo.
Once the instrument lowered, he took a deep breath. The bard was rather lucky he could actually reach the heads of the morphs with the assistance of his flute. If not, then he would be in a lot more trouble. He spared a quick glance to Roy, just in time to see the fire blast from the Sword of Seals. His eyes widened with amazement, not remembering ever seeing that attack before.
... Yup, that proud look of his had a tint of jealousy in it.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 1:36 pm
((Well...that doesn't help me that much...who's read the manga and knows what I'm talking about?))
Roy nodded, hearing his Uncle thank him. He would do what he could to help the others. Once things were cleared up here, he could go up to the front lines to help FD...just like he used to during the war.
He heard the sound of a flute being played, and the young lord suddenly felt more energized. It was a surprise to him, having never really understood his Uncle's actual purpose on the field of combat. If he were to relate Uncle's ability with someone he knew from his days leading the Lycian army, it would no doubt be Elphin...or actually Mildain. Just as he could relate his Mother's dances to that of Lalam's...though the two styles of dancing were completely different. Uncle was definitely a master of the flute, using it as both a tool of rejuvenation and as a dangerous weapon.
Roy glanced over at his Uncle after using his Sword of Seal's Explosion ability on the archer and grinned at the bard's surprised look. He used it mainly as a 'ace' in his fighting, particularly against the Dark Dragon and the others that served Bern, but here...well, nothing was going to change. The attack was still unbelievably powerful. Though...he wanted to test how strong the explosion really was, and to do that...well, he would have to find one of the Heroes they were fighting against and give it a shot in combat. But...what he really was wanting to keep secret was the combinations he could do with the magic swords, now that he had learned how to dual-wield.
He parried a lance thrust from a Morph soldier, the Light Brand sliding up against the smooth surface of the steel lance before slashing him in two. The light sword was quickly sheathed, and the Wind Blade was drawn.
"Everything ok there Uncle?" he called out to the bard.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 1:36 pm
Amelia nodded once. Cut out the power source, and that dracolich would have nothing to feed off of, and then it would be simple to fell... a few good Shine attacks to the body would cause it to fall. Amelia adjusted her arm around the boxes, watching as Soren trotted away on his rouncey. She started to walk away, then froze as Rhys walked right past, idly calling out a greeting. "...Huh? Hi, Amelia."
She just stood there, waiting for him to realize who he had just spoken to. It didn't take long. "...Amelia?!"
That's better.
Amelia smiled wide at Rhys when he looked her over. She attributed the confused look to the morph armor she'd snagged (or maybe the boxes, but it was difficult to say). "H-how did you...? When did... ohh, thank goodness you're out."
Amelia gratefully returned the hug, looking him over when he pulled back. Clearly exhausted, but he didn't seem too injured... "Well, it was sort of... necessary," Amelia said. She flicked her head to the side to get a lock of hair out of her face. "I--" she paused, turned, and slashed at an approaching morph with an axe. As his head rolled away while the body collapsed to the ground, Amelia turned back to Rhys. "--spoke to Teifi and, basically, if I hadn't left, she would have gone to find you and Dad to kill you." Amelia paused, eyes widening. "Oh! Dad! I saw him! Father Renault! He's here somewhere, but I got knocked out again and he disappeared before I woke up... have you seen him?"
Amelia paused again, then held out the box with Rhys' name on it. "I also found this. I'm not sure who made it, but it's got your name written on it. So it must be yours."
[[Rhys, the box has... these meat bun thingies in 'em. If you need clarification, IM me or PM me.]]
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 1:41 pm
Isadora gave a deep slash against the creature as she continued jousting. This isn't working. How long can we keep up? Isadora thought. She could feel her blade are becoming dull. About how many had she slain her enemies? Twenty? Or even more? Not to mention, she had lost counts of how many cuts she gave to the Dracozombie.
This was getting them nowhere. It seemed that Rhys' idea had failed them. No matter how much they attacked, the creature recovered it. It was as if the monster had just came into battle.
It looked like we're back to square one. Isadora thought. It seemed that they had to find Evelyn again and defeat her. However, Isadora had lost track of her after she summoned that beast. If what Rhys said was true, then Evelyn must be around to give her energy to the beast. But where?
Suddenly, she heard Soren calling for her to pull back. Isadora shouted, "Okay."
She charged forward to where her comrades were at, only to narrowly escaped from the monster's breath. It smelled horrible as it reached to her nose. As she pulled her horse, she spotted Amelia. It surprised her.
"Amelia! How did you- When- Oh St. Elimine! You're safe!" Isadora cried out. She couldn't help herself but to smile. How did the general escape? She would never know. But it was good to see her. As much as she wanted to celebrate with Amelia and Rhys, now was not the time to celebrate.
"Rhys. You, Fa, and Victoria should looked for Evelyn. Having two Light users against one Dark user should be enough to wear her down. Soren, Amelia, and I will handle the beast. We don't know how much we can take it, but we're make sure to give you enough time to deal with the witch."
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 2:41 pm
"U-uhm... Yeah! I'm fine!"
If "fine" meant "dealing with a few too many morphs at one time", then Nils was definitely fine. A morph soldier, he could handle. A morph fighter, he could handle. A morph mercenary was a bit harder but still, he could deal with it. Two of them? Maybe...
All three at the same time? He was fast and lucky, yes, but eventually he'd receive some damage.
Another narrow dodge, this time with a slice by the ribs from the lance that was originally going to stab through his chest. With a well-aimed, powerful (at least on his standards, being the bard with very little physical strength) swing, the instrument in his hand connected with the skull of the soldier. With another good swing, which took a couple of tries to get, the bard was now facing two morphs at a time instead of three. He could handle this!
... That is, if his side wasn't hurting from that slice he got. He sidestepped, the axe from the fighter sticking into the ground where Nils was about two seconds earlier. This is why I don't fight often. The bard thought to himself, pivoting to strike the back of the fighter's head with the flute. He didn't have enough strength to target anywhere else and expect significant damage. It was down to one on one, bard with adrenaline boosts and a flute versus a morph mercenary with a rather sharp sword.
... Too bad Nils was feeling like he was about to collapse. His free hand pressed against his side while he held his instrument tightly in a shaky grip. ... Maybe I'm not fine.
(( Of course I have to put Nils in a bad situation like this. >: That's just the way I am. ))
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