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 Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 7:57 pm
(( Not trying for crown, just wanted some solo lulz! )) He should have known the meeting would lead to more crowns. How? He simply should have. Heroes were supposed to eventually gain a sense for danger so that they could prep or avoid it: Mort just seemed to have enough to know something was going to happen and not enough time to do something about it.
He would have done Cassandra proud, had he known the myth.
Alex, Sophie, Bells, Freya, Sharra . . . Innocents dragged into the fray. And opposite them Herryk and Aymet, the dark figures he had begun to fear the most for. Losing one friend was bad enough, but the dracolich’s destructive path this fight only served to feed his despair.
How had it come to this? When had he decided, upon seeing Mei heal a very familiar hunter, not to view it with disgust, but with uncertainty and fear that someone had seen her. When had he let doubt dictate his thoughts where there should have been certainty, faith instead of the science he relied so much on, the thought of weakness frighten him when his darker desires should have instead? When had friends turned into enemies, enemies into allies?
He shuddered, and as if to comfort him tendrils of mist came to blanket the zomboil in a cold, almost possessive embrace. As if it knew he heard their whispers. As if it knew one day, sooner or later, he would come Home like the lost little orphan boil he truly was.
It was déjà vu for Mort: Fog clouding his vision, panic spilling over at the thought of losing his friends or being alone again, and a pervasive chill clinging to him as murmurs ran through his mind. But above all that a different voice: one bolder than he ever thought he would hear, much less be the source of. His own voice.
Mort stared into the misty reconstruction of himself with a weariness he had recycled for such occasions but would never truly be able to get rid of. For how often had he faced himself? How often had he been pitted against a shadow, a mirror, an opposing force, a monstrous re-imagining, an evil doppelganger of himself? And how often had he come out on top?
Never, come to think of it. What did that say about him, that he could not conquer himself?
His copy knew – of course it would – and with a wicked grin that stretched past its stitches it produced a crown that stuck out in the mass of gray, almost pulsing with a life of its own in its outstretched hands. “I have what you desire,” it said.
Power. A way to stop himself from descending into complete misery. A way to free his friends from their own corruption and to defend those whose innocence it threatened to steal away. And above all, a way to fix what ailed him most: his own weakness for heroism.
”Open your eyes and take it. Who will stop you?”
Himself of course. Mort’s hand was paused midway between them, fingers twitching uncertainly. A part of him knew this was wrong, could remember how the red crown had affected so many others in a negative fashion, buried itself under Belladonna’s skin and tainted her and Aymet and Xiu into something they couldn’t possibly be – and the rest of him didn’t care.
There was always a price for power, yet Mort bore those marks and still existed. Wasn't that what the undead were good at: Surviving? Enduring?
”Take it.”
What was one more branding, one more burden to weigh upon his head, if it meant accessing true power? He had often denied the position of leadership verbally, and yet when stress was upon him he rose to the occasion almost without fail; even earlier he had gathered whom he could and issued orders, striding forward with righteous anger, with purpose like –
- like a king.
”Take it, and everything you wish will be yours.”
The hesitation slowly solidified into decision. Uncertainty into purpose. It was only logical, he told himself, only fair for him to take what he had been trying to ignore, what had essentially been denied him in return. He grasped for the crown with cold fingers and a susurration of whispers in his ear urging him forward.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Man’s reach exceeds his grasp. But what if the hand was owned by someone whom wasn’t human at all, but something else entirely? What of the hand that belonged to one who did not sleep? Did not want for sustenance, did not need air to breathe, did not fear death because they had been through it once already?
What of the hand that knew no thresholds and ignored all limitations nature intended for his grasp – what of the hand that knew only true obsession?
He used to be human. Used to be a simple boy with simple pleasures, fascinated by the construction of things and engaged with a colorful imagination, showing his true inventor colors at a young age. Used to have a mother with a warm touch and a cold tongue, a father too involved with his work as king to come back before sundown, but who always left little notes for him to discover, little scraps of love he collected and meshed into a collage on the wall that used to drive his mother crazy. She’d tore it down in a fit of frustration with her bright-eyed son, exactly three days after the king had been slain in battle.
Love was weakness, and weakness did not befit royalty. That was what she told him when she broke and sobbed and showed him to be the hypocrite she truly was, that was what she drilled into him as he grew up under stricter rules than even the most severe of prisons, and that was what remained etched into his mind long after she too had been interred – long after he’d wiped the goblet clean of her lips.
Perhaps love was a weakness, he’d whispered to her corpse at the funeral, his head bent in a mockery of beatific sorrow for all to see. But wine had been her vice. He knew he could not grow into his role with her shadowing his steps, dead in every aspect but her cold, beating heart. And so on the day he became a man, he broke that final chain linking him to that age of wonder, ending her in the same manner she had ended his childhood: with poisonous intent.
That one action marked the beginning of his decline, he thought in hindsight. He had never wanted to harm her, but she had been in the way. Guilt, however, never listened to reason, and it wrecked him from within like a poison in and of itself. It was weakness, and it was how his kingdom had repeatedly failed in the tournaments. A weakness in character meant a lapse in judgment, a lapse in judgment chose the wrong champion, the wrong champion meant more must die. Again and again his white kingdom’s lands became smeared with innocent blood. That was when he had devised the androids.
They were meant to be helpers and workers, the strength needed to reinforce his kingdom’s presence after the devastating blows left by the deaths of their former king and queen, and to bring back the citizens’ good will after the atrocious track record of their champions. Stronger than any mortal warrior, faster than horses, able to endure more than flesh and bone – the perfect warriors. He filled the palace with guards plated in steel and slowly, surely, perfected his art: this was what would get his people to love him again, he believed. This: power, beauty, perfection.
Still his people cried out for more from their king. Soulless bodies could not begin to make up for their broken hearts.
And Mort, ever incapable of existing without his compulsion to satisfy, listened. Their praise was what he craved, what he needed when the world sought only to crush him beneath its boot, when the guilt had turned to grief and threatened to swallow him whole. And so he continued, delving more and more into forbidden arts, lost magic, mixing it with technology in search for that perfect balance of utility and aesthetics – and slowly, ever so slowly, that maddening quest for perfection consumed him.
White was pure, unblemished, perfect. Why then couldn’t he be?
The android surged into the population at an alarming rate as the king was seen less and less, forever stuck in his research, birthing new ideas and giving no thoughts to birthing heirs: the androids were his true children. But somehow, slowly, their purpose changed. Quiet metal constructs with soulless eyes filled the streets, but the citizens did not complain. They learned not to very quickly, for those that spoke out soon went missing, replaced by gutless, clanking copies. No criticism was to be made, no whisper or rumor of his madness, no sickness or death. There was no such thing as error in his kingdom.
All things could be replaced with smooth, unblemished metal. Flesh was weakness, he came to realize, susceptible to disease, hunger, love and lust, and all manner of fallibility. Becoming an android was the perfect solution to the horrible sickness that was mortality and paved the way for them to finally regain their former glory. He could reforge his people into the strongest army any nation had ever seen.
Absolute perfection.
It was because of that perfection that it was not meant to be. That was the maddening price as a genius: knowing something was within his reach, but even with a new body could not be fulfilled.
The revolts were worse than he imagined; fear brewed discontent, discontent turned into an outcry for freedom. Other kingdoms preyed upon the civil riots and sent in their top assassins, beings of pure supernatural power to add to the white king’s devastation. The clamor of metal, the screeches of the dying, the delightful crackle of flames eating away – he heard it all.
He did not need sleep. He hadn’t needed sleep for a long time now.
So it was that when one of those assassins arrived, he greeted her with a hollow look and an empty smile. He knew the woman: tall, beautiful, frightening, and most of all unstoppable. Death reaped the streets of what was left of his people’s souls and destroyed that which did not. Famine ran amok in his lands until everything was a shade of brown or gray. Conquest had finished his work long before and only awaited for this final piece to fall to seize full control.
War greeted him with a cat’s smile that did not reach her eyes. And a saunter in her step that came from centuries of experience. Many kings had risen and fell under her watch, but this one at least she felt a modicum of sympathy for. No guards stopped her, no loved ones pleaded her a bargain with their lives – he was very much alone and had been for far too long.
No words were exchanged. He had thought Death would come for him, since he had cheated her so often with his machines, but no; just War, just the one thing that fueled the seven kingdoms: strife, violence, bloodshed. And now it would all come to an end.
This was the end he sought. A release he had been too cowardly to enact himself.
His kingdom had rarely ever won a tournament. And now it seemed they had finally lost the war, after long years of being a cancer upon the land.
She approached him with the sword unsheathed, and all he did was stand to greet her as a king should for any foreign visitor. Rust coated his limbs, creaked like popping joints as he stretched out his arms to greet her. He was small before her, a scareling of metal and bleached bone knowing the inevitable, but still scared to reach for it. There was a soft pleading in his eyes; she indulged him.
He did not want to die alone.
One last warm embrace. One final memory of what a living being was like. The pulse of a heartbeat, the smoothness of her skin, the eruption of sorrel hair from her head, the curve of that sad smile that gave her face small, uneven wrinkles – life in its perfection and imperfection.
In a sudden rush the king remembered one other, a different woman of secret smiles and neverending laughter, who had come to him before time and time again. She was dead, and without warning he realized he had never embraced her. What a strange thought.
He had existed, but he had never lived.
The sword ran him through but they remained close. War’s wings coddled his body as he sank to the ground, his small gasp of pain suddenly turning into a bitter smile. Grief had been his bitter poison, an inky black guilt that had poisoned his systems. But as he watched oil leak from him, he comforted himself with the dying thought that perhaps in death he might be purged clean once more.
Perhaps only after visiting life and death could he find true balance, true perfection.
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 3:20 am
The fresh smell of snow is enough to pull most out from their daze, and for others the scent of peppermint, fresh-baked goods, a stronger, lingering feeling of nostalgia. As all open their eyes, disconcerted, confused, some from death, some from worse, they are treated with an even odder sight.
"All I want to do is make sure everyone has the best Christmas ever." Was the Insanity-fog wilting under Allan's slightly disapproving frown? "I don't want to go Home, it's so lonely there. Home is here, home is-"
"-I know." The Sun lead gently drew his weapon. "Everyone will enjoy a great Christmas-"
"But not me!"
"Especially you. Now, look how unhappy you've made everyone. Isn't that the opposite of what you want?"
The fog withdrew a little, the cheerful feeling of holidays was replaced by something a little watered-down. The snow faded, slightly. "All right," they fog-figure finally conceded, "But you better have the best Christmas ever!"
"The absolute best," Allan promised. He waited patiently for the figure to smile, to relax, just a bit, pull itself together for a single second until it seemed almost complete, whole, in colour, just like it had before, just like-
- The next second she disappeared, scattered, into thousands of flakes of white snow. It was almost merciful.
The snowing stopped.
"It's done." The Sun lead looked a little lost himself, as he took another resolved step. "Let's go home. This battle is over."
"This battle is over," repeated a voice, neither Allan now the fog's. She clutched in both of her hands a glowing orb, pulsating a strong white, "We have won." Medea stepped in from where the fog retreated. "All it takes is a little more Fear and this battle will be ours."
Several of the Hunters drew their weapons again white the Horsemen bared their fangs, flexed their fingers, wings, claws. Indeed, no rest for the wicked. The feeling of Christmas cheer had disappeared entirely. OOC: FINAL PVP PHASE THIS IS THE FINAL PVP PHASE:- All characters have awoken from their dream or have been brought back from the vortex. There is a moment of daze before they are asked to once again fight. HORSEMEN:- HORSEMEN and initiates can feel their fragments resonating with the orb. It makes them feel stronger, empowered. They can feel it. Close. Soon. They almost have enough Fear. - The goal is to DOWN as many Hunters as possible. For each Hunter downed at ZERO or LESS HP, they gain +10 Fear. Hunters cannot go below -5 HP. - All the Horsemen need is +20 Fear to win. - Same PVP mechanics apply, horsemen are given the same bonuses. - HP and Fear charges are reset. Artifacts and given items/ modifiers are not reset. - After 20 Fear has been harvested, please QUOTE ZOOBEY. - Horsemen/ initiates that dissipate have a 4 hour cooldown before they return with full HP. [ HORSEMEN/ INITIATE BATTLE MODIFIERS :]- All throughout battle: + 1 Medea's Blessing: You can use your distortion crystal to heal yourself to full health one. This is applicable to initiates and horsemen. + Distortion crystal effect still works in battle, make sure to state it when you are using it. This is applicable to initiates and horsemen. + All damage modifiers for horsemen are -4 for the duration of this fight only. That means horsemen are rolling 2d8-4. + All horsemen can activate beserk mode for the duration of this fight/ rp only. They can activate their "mount" form and roll three turns of 2d12 - 6. They can only use this once. This is applicable only to horsemen. HUNTERS:The air begins to distort, flux. Hunters can see Allan rushing after Medea, but it almost seems too late. There might just be too many horsemen this time, no, they are more powerful than before. It isn't uncommon knowledge to understand why: to understand that Fear makes Horsemen stronger. - The Horsemen know it too as they go for the Hunters' throats. - Hunters unfortunately cannot escape, if they do escape they lose and all the injured on the field will also be lost. It is a tough battle, but they are Hunters. Someone has to fight for the greater good- The air begins to shake and distort, the ground grow thick with Fear. The miasma makes it hard to focus, to breathe. It makes them feel more outnumbered than they actually are. - Regular PVP mechanics apply! HP is reset, Fear charges are reset. - If a Hunter is injured, they can be carried back to the hidden forest otherwise it is highly recommended, as a last chance, that they stay and fight as much as they can, buying the others as much time as possible. [ HUNTER MODIFIERS :]- All throughout battle: + Death Hunters gain an evasion bonus. Subtract 1/2/3 (-1 for trainees/ -2 for intermediate / -3 for full) when calculating total damage done to them. Ie: Sue attacks Bob the intermediate Death Hunter for 8 damage. It actually just does 6 damage. + Life Hunters gain one free heal they can use whenever in battle. Trainees roll 2d8-4, Intermediate 2d10-4 , Full Hunters 2d12-4. + Sun Hunters gain a +1/ 2/ 3 attack buff (+1 for trainees/ +2 for intermediate / +3 for full) .Add +1/2/3 attack to your final attack. + Moon Hunters gain a +1/ 2/ 3 defense buff (+1 for trainees/ +2 for intermediate / +3 for full). Add +1/2/3 attack to your final defense (if defending) + Mist Hunters may choose any ability (except for the Life Hunter one) and use it a MAXIMUM of three times in the battle ONLY. BATTLE FORM:[color=red][b]***YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME*** IS ATTACKING/ DEFENDING/ HEALING ***NAME HERE****[/b][/color]
((Don't forget to QUOTE THE PERSON AND ACTUALLY ROLL YOUR DICE))
[b]Your Character's HP:[/b] HP HERE
[b]Fear/ Charges used:[/b] 0/2 or 0/3
[b]Bonus Battle Effect:[/b] Quote any battle effects (see above) used ie: the special Hunter division effects or the Horsemen /Medea bonus deal
[b]Runic Items OR Artifacts used:[/b] Write them here if applicable/ post the artifact image url
[b]Distortion used:[/b] Write here if applicable:
[b]Damage / Healing / Defending done:[/b] VALUE HERE. In the event of defending, it is important that all players are aware of characters defending. If you are a defender and you think your defense would Icly affect that character's IC actions, you should quote them just to know and write something in your quote like "Just so you know, my character Bob is defending the character your Susan is attacking!"
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Baneful rolled 1 8-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-8)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 4:11 am
Rep reeled back to reality, for just a moment caught up in the overwhelming scent of snow and cookies. It took him back, even through the haze of bizarre and tangled emotions - had it been a dream? - to a time before the island, moments when he'd almost longed to be part of the festivities that he watched passing him by.
He could only look on incredulous as Allan seemed to scold the Julie creature, and against all odds, she relented, leaving him to wonder with a twist of sadness if somehow it was her or what remained of her. As she vanished into a swirl of snow he could only hope that there was rest wherever she was. It was no fate for a hunter.
And then it looked like they could go home.
But it was never that simple. The grand high mare bitchness herself returned and it wasn't over.
It was never over.
Drawing Tracey he dropped into a battle stance, still trying to shake that feeling of loss that wouldn't go away, even as he prepped for a fight, looking for the guys in the confusion, they were okay, he'd just seen them, they had to be okay.
Why did it feel like he was alone?
There was no time to dwell on it, baring his teeth in a snarl of irritation he spat. "Bring it."
Stats:
Name: William Reid
Faction: Hunters - Sun
HP: 50/50
DMG : (defending for 2)
Charge: 0/3
Effect: Sun Intermediate +2 dmg
Items : Runic Bandages - Unused, Waves of Oceanus - Unused
Appearance : Loud, arrogant
human with vibrant red hair and a nasty demeanour,
weilds a massive two handed lochaber axe.
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Pixie Nyxie rolled 1 10-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-10)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 9:51 am
The dream woke, and when you woke, what was once the dream became reality. The battlefield laid heavy as the air grew thick with tension. Horsemen, FEAR, Students.
Julie left before Allan followed right after her. Turning, he saw Rep and nodded.
"I don't know where Harrison is but, For now I got you." The moon hunter moved over to the sun, prepping the defense. His dream clouded in his mind, of times of the past? Present? Future? It didn't matter either way. Rep was not that knight, and Dakota was not the king...
"s**t's about to get ten times worse." With the horsemen eyeing them like the next dish on the menu. For now, he snarled at any that came close to them.
Your Character's HP: 60/60
Fear/ Charges used: 1/3 - 1/3
Bonus Battle Effect: Moon hunter +3 Defense
Items: Runic Bandages, Torch
Defending For: 6 +3 = 9
Defending: Rep
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Kaiyumi rolled 2 12-sided dice:
6, 1
Total: 7 (2-24)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:23 am
ZHIQIANG IS ATTACKING DAKOTA
The horseman was trying to puzzle out what just happened. One minute, he was sucked into the vortex, and now the next...
He heard Medea. The priestess' words sent a shiver of excitement down the man's spine, a shiver of anticipation. They were close, so close to winning, and gathering just a little more fear didn't seem like a particularly hard task. After all, there were plenty of hunters here that could easily be taken out for that task.
His attention zoned in one two of them in particular. Whereas one of the men was defending and being defended, the other one--the protector--was wide open. Lips spreading into a vicious grin, he began to shift, discarding his human form in exchange for his mount form.
Dark mane flying in his face, Zhi began to gallop towards the pair of hunters with the intention of ramming into the taller of the two...only to find that, with his vision obscured, he had misjudged the distance. In the end, he went breezing right past Dakota and Rep, his tail lightly whacking the former as he passed them. Slowly, the horseman came to a stop, paused, and glanced over his shoulder.
...
DAMNIT.
Your Character's HP: 40/40
Fear/ Charges used: 0
Bonus Battle Effect: Mount Form, 2d12 -6
Runic Items OR Artifacts used: N/A
Distortion used: N/A
Damage: 1
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Miliardo Kason rolled 2 8-sided dice:
2, 1
Total: 3 (2-16)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:28 am
Nirva had finally had enough, for too long she had stood aside in the shadows, behind the other clans guarding what they now called 'home' she had forgotten the chaos of battle, the pleasure of blood and hard won victory, replaced by silence, tea, the tea she so longed to share with her two dead sisters.
Today she would repay the hunters for the loss of their lives, today she would feed the hunger inside her core as the snow blue gem rattled on the chain around her neck as she dropped from the heavens in a burst of snow landing before Rep twin axes in hand.
"And so you shall have your fight Hunter." She said in a soft, yet cold voice as ice blue eyes flickered towards him behind her helm, "You shall have it and more for what you did to our kinsmen."
With a snap of her wings she lunged towards the hunter lashing out wild with her axes.
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Baneful rolled 2 10-sided dice:
10, 8
Total: 18 (2-20)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:33 am
Of course he didn't know where Harrison was. He had sent him off to die wherever that had been, whatever had happened to them all in the fog. It hadn't been real, it couldn't have been real. But he couldn't shake the dread, couldn't shake the feeling of being alone through his own bad decisions, more alone than he could ever remember being. The details were hazy, slow to resurface like a dream half remembered, but the emotions weighed heavy on him.
"I don't know either."
It felt like a lie.
As the first horseman attacked Dakota, he tried not to think about any of it, tried to let himself slip into that blank chill oblivion he felt when he handed the reigns to Tracey during a charge, instinct over thought, power and darkness over the soft and ******** intolerable ache of humanity.
Was he ever?
Another target caught his eye. Dakota would have to look after himself for the time being. "I'd ******** do it again. I'd do it a million ******** times more." he snarled, fury twined up with hurt, his voice raw and sharp.
Tracey lashed out with all the force at his disposal, driving home his point.
Stats:
Name: William Reid
Faction: Hunters - Sun
HP: 50/50
DMG : 14
Charge: 1/3
Effect: Sun Intermediate +2 dmg
Items : Runic Bandages - Unused, Waves of Oceanus - Unused
Appearance : Loud, arrogant
human with vibrant red hair and a nasty demeanour,
weilds a massive two handed lochaber axe.
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Molten Tigrex rolled 9 4-sided dice:
4, 2, 2, 4, 1, 3, 3, 4, 4
Total: 27 (9-36)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:41 am
AYMET IS ATTACKING REPCrunch. The dream, the memory, the haze, it all peeled away and with it the sharpness of thought that he had so briefly. Something was pulling him back to reality, something that burned him and turned the white to green and orange and hate. His pin was no longer necessary - it snapped off in his claws and he resumed the form more comfortable, larger, stronger, himself. His burning eyes fixed on a white and gold and red stain against the snow. With a primal roar he sent a cascade of bones down toward it. The green and orange only burned more vividly. Your Character's HP: 50/50 Fear/ Charges used: 1/3 Swift Strikes y2 Bonus Battle Effect: UNUSED - 3x candycane, 3x shardsRunic Items OR Artifacts used: Medea's Blessing - USED ALREADY Distortion used: +1, 7 charges left Damage done: 18 (w/80% modifier) + 2 = 20 GODDAMN Appearance: Aymet is a Y3 Undead Dracolich. He currently looks like this. Except right now he is in natform so he's a giant skeleton dragon.
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medigel rolled 1 6-sided dice:
5
Total: 5 (1-6)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:41 am
She liked the cold. That was what brought her out of her reverie first: the feeling of crisp, soft snow. Was it the holidays already . . .?
Stormy opened her eyes and saw the blood-stained ground from where other hunters had fell. Nope, just more battling.
She had a deer in the headlights moment as she recollected exactly what had happened before everything had faded to white, and a new shiver gripped her small body. Had she . . . Had she died? Was that possible? What was that fog, why had one of the leads talked to it, what.
She didn't know what her feels were doing.
< < Up, Hatchling! > > Thane growled. < < Wer Svitraniv has spoken. There is blood to be had yet and I'll be damned if we die again so easily. > >
Scrambling to her feet, Stormy resummoned her weapon and, spotting Dakota's familiar face, drew closer to the Moon hunter. She wasn't sure what to say beyond Oh my God, which wouldn't have been helpful in this situation anyway. So instead, she mumbled a song to herself to calm her nerves as she tried a defensive pose.
"It's a-a small world after all, it's a small world after all . . ."
Quote: Stormy: 5'2" Mist Trainee Currently looks terrified oh god did she just die what
Stormy's HP: 40
Fear/ Charges used: 0/3 (0/3 Charges for GC)
Bonus Battle Effect: Mist Trainee taking Moon Bonus (+1 defense) (2/3 uses left)
Damage / Healing / Defending done: 6
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[A.V.] rolled 1 4-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-4)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:46 am
JAKE IS USING RUNICS Jake shook his head.
Somehow, he found himself back on the ground, the vortex, fog, gone.
Was it... just a dream?
...No.
Horsemen. Those stupid horsemen were back.
He quickly got up, and pulled out his hand torch.
"Looks like it's time to get serious." he growled.
Your Character's HP: 40/40
Fear/ Charges used: 0/3 [0/2]
Bonus Battle Effect: +1 Evasion
Runic Items OR Artifacts used: Tusk of Ares (unused), Hand Torch USED, Barrier Daggers (unused)
Distortion used: N/A
Damage / Healing / Defending done: +2 dmg for 2 turns
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Pixie Nyxie rolled 1 10-sided dice:
5
Total: 5 (1-10)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:46 am
Dakota stared at the grasshopper that came from a large horse and then rose his eyebrow.
"Wow, Thanks. I'm could really use a inspirational lesson about horses and grasshoppers and the meaning of your attack because you did so much damage to me." Dakota all but drawled at the horseman as another came at Rep. He deflected the axe's and moved as Tracey was swung past him.
"Oh man." Dakota whistled as the axe whirled right into the female horseman.
And then there was a dragon student. "Don't touch him." Dakota swung his blade up, deflecting most of the dragon lich's attack. But not enough as it barralled into Rep. s**t. What the ******** did Dragons eat!??!
At least it wasn't a little grasshopper. He sent a pity look at Zhi
Your Character's HP: 59/60
Fear/ Charges used: 1/3 - 0/3
Bonus Battle Effect: Moon hunter +3 Defense
Items: Runic Bandages, Torch
Defending For: 5 + 3 = 8
Defending: Rep
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Bilious rolled 2 12-sided dice:
10, 6
Total: 16 (2-24)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:50 am
Jerry awoke with a gasp, his eyes streaming gently behind his glasses. He was trembling as he touched his throat- no cuts, no blood. An illusion. Always illusions, what was real anymore? Talk of Christmas. The smell of cookies. Jerry's insides twisted. He didn't care about Christmas. He did care about the creature that leaped at Rep as the world came back into focus. With a snarl, he leaped to action, Canon lifted. "GET OFF OF HIM," He roared, trembling and defenseless but he didn't care. JERRY IS ATTACKING AYMET  Distance: 21 Your Character's HP: 60/60 Fear/ Charges used: 3/3 (no attacks used yet) Bonus Battle Effect: Sun Hunters gain a +3 attack buff (+3 for full) Runic Items OR Artifacts used: Not applicable Damage: 10 + 3 = 13
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Kaiyumi rolled 2 12-sided dice:
11, 9
Total: 20 (2-24)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:50 am
ZHIQIANG IS ATTACKING DAKOTA
For a minute, Zhi just leaned down and buried his face in the ground in shame. He lifted his head only when the little grasshopper--the brave little grasshopper who had done more than the Conquest horseman--hopped over and kicked him in the head, encouraging him to get back up. With a grumble, he did so, letting the little creature hop onto his head before he straightened up.
Okay, even he had to admit that that had been pretty shameful. Time to make up for it.
This time, he actually paid attention to where he was aiming, charging forward towards him. At the last minute, he twisted slightly, slamming his shoulder into the Moon Hunter with a satisfying impact.
Your Character's HP: 40/40
Fear/ Charges used: 0
Bonus Battle Effect: Mount Form, 2d12 -6
Runic Items OR Artifacts used: N/A
Distortion used: N/A
Damage: 14
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:52 am
USING WAVES OF OCEANUS.
Rep was sent careening backwards as he was attacked by a <******** DRAGON.
It knocked off his earring. Apparently it wasn't empty as he'd previously thought. He found this out the hard way in the form of a localised tidal wave. He put it back on almost sheepishly. Slush ******** everywhere.
Stats:
Name: William Reid
Faction: Hunters - Sun
HP: 35/50
DMG :--
Charge: 2/3
Effect: Sun Intermediate +2 dmg
Items : Runic Bandages - Unused, Waves of Oceanus - Unused
Appearance : Loud, arrogant
human with vibrant red hair and a nasty demeanour,
weilds a massive two handed lochaber axe.
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Baneful rolled 2 10-sided dice:
5, 2
Total: 7 (2-20)
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Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:53 am
Hefting Tracey up again, Rep turned his attentions back to the dracolich which had absolutely rattled his shield, and even as he did, found other people leaping into the fray to his aid.
He smiled to himself approvingly. Sometimes, these bastards were the best.
He didn't savour it too long though, he was wet, and it was snowy. He didn't fancy freezing.
Stats:
Name: William Reid
Faction: Hunters - Sun
HP: 35/50
DMG : 3 (Aymet)
Charge: 3/3
Effect: Sun Intermediate +2 dmg
Items : Runic Bandages - Unused, Waves of Oceanus - Used
Appearance : Loud, arrogant
human with vibrant red hair and a nasty demeanour,
weilds a massive two handed lochaber axe.
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