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 Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 7:13 am
Jaren had absolutely no clue what kind of a weapon Ganon was holding, it looked scary as hell though and he could guess what would happen should he or his sword become ensnared in the chain. So as the weight sped towards him he stepped to the side as opposed to blocked, turning his body to face the chain Jaren was suddenly struck by an idea, a completely irresponsible risk. Before thinking it through the myrmidon brought his free arm up and smacked the side of the chain with his forearm, as if alive the chain whipped to and fro before wrapping itself around his arm. The chain pulled tight and dug into his skin leaving red welts, the weight followed and with a rattle connected with the chain.
Jaren had slowed down to preform this action and after Ganon pulled on the chain and caused him to stumble he almost stopped, he realized though that unless he got close he was doomed and now sped back up as his hand closed around the weight, although Ganon could now move Jaren's off hand arm wherever he felt like he'd be unable to get the chain back to throw again and get a hold of something more important, like his sword. Besides Jaren was about to get up close and personal, with his chained arm held close into his body Jaren swung a cut at Ganon's scaly stomach. Jaren wasn't trying to kill, or even actually cut Ganon, the myrmidon was attempting to slice open what he thought was Ganon's costume. His reasoning was that if he cut up Ganon's clothes with (what he thought was) superior skill the man inside would surrender.
And he'd get to see what Ganon really looked like, boy was he in for a rude surprise (and probably an a**-kicking).
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Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:28 am
 Tch. Not good. He wasn't going to reach the mage before the spell finish. Just as the spell was about to be cast, Sunil skidded to a halt before leaping backwards, narrowly evading the bolt that came crashing down. The flash caused him to become temporarily blind, the roar resulting in momentary deafness, and just by being in close proximity to the bolt had caused his fur to become a little more frizzy, especially around his face.
Fortunately, the smell of slightly burnt fur was not enough to mask the other smells his nose was taking in. He shook his head, waiting for his hearing and vision to return, and when they did, he glanced up at the mage, who was retreating to join his buddies and hide. Damn coward. But wait...if he took on that group, wouldn't that mean he would have more people to play tag with? Oh goody. Tag was always a fun game. The more people, the better.
But before he could play tag with the bunch, his ears picked up some new sounds amidst the combat. The clinking of armor, the beating of hooves, a horn being blown, and a roar. These bandits didn't have a calvary or heavy armor, did they?
He took his eyes off the bandit group to look at where all these new sounds were coming from. His kitty eyes widened in shock.
There was a very large army coming their way. He didn't need to bother counting. It was obvious that they were outnumbered. There was a call for a retreat, and the soldiers were passing on the message to those that didn't hear it the first time. Sunil glanced at the female lancer, who seemed to be staying behind. Was she going to try to hold them off to buy some time? He closed his eyes. Her sacrifice would not be in vain.
He turned and proceeded to escape. He didn't even get two steps in before he shifted back to his untransformed state. The cat Laguz blinked in surprise.
"...Seriously?" he whined. First his fur (his hair now) was frizzy and very messy (it smelled a bit burnt too, like someone had their hair dryer on high after a shower and spent too long using it to dry), then Mordache reinforcements showed up, and now he wasn't able to transform for a while. What's next on the list of unfortunateness? Some pitfall right in front of him or something?
He shook his head before he began his retreat, looking for the Tiger Laguz.
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Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 2:44 pm
A sound off in the distance rang through Zeiss' ears, and the arrival of a massive army sure is enough to send units scrambling for safety. It is also a sign for other enemies to go and hide, and despite being pissed at those brigands, he had to let them go. The sound for a retreat hit his ears, and he was up for that, but first, he would get rid of some weight on him, and maybe cripple some forces.
So back in the air Zeiss went, and bringing forth one of the remaining javelins, he waited patiently for the cavalry to get close, and then started raining down the javelins he had. Once he was out of them, he got down to a safer spot, and ran into a soldier that was looking for him.
"So my orders are to help the wounded get back to that other place? All right." He wasted no time in getting the wounded soldier onto Rubley, and starting on a path straight for Pentheus, and understanding that he would probably be doing this for sometime, before all the units arrived back at Pentheus.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 12:32 pm
Epimetheus and Mendeleeve   The cavaliers had managed to get through without any traps being sprung. In fact, the enemy was running away. This gave speed to the charging infantry units and their apprehension vanished. Most cavaliers were felled within moments. A few managed to slip by the leading unit, but were dealt with by the fleeing soldiers, particularly by a flying unit.
From atop the dune, the two horsemen watched with content. Epimetheus narrowed his eyes, trying to discern if his eyes would affirm what his mind was trying to tell him. "Looks like there's no traps. That'll make this a lot easier. But uh, hey Mende, you see that soldier that's staying behind?"
Mendeleeve turned his focus off of the fleeing Learanians and onto the one unit that had stayed behind. It was a lancer that appeared to have dark skin and long hair. "...Yes, I do. A foolhardy attempt from that one at best. Our soldiers will be upon him in seconds. Do not fret, Epimetheus."
Epimetheus emitted a low moan of uncertainly. "But that's the thing, Mende, I don't think it is a man. You remember that woman who escaped from prison? A dark-skinned woman with long, dark hair, who used a lance. It's her!" He nodded his head, reassuring himself.
"...Epimetheus... that's a highly irrational boast." Mendeleeve sighed. "You can hardly make out anything about that soldier from this distance. Settle down. The chances of that one person being her are slim to none."
Not having taken heed to his companion's words, Epimetheus commanded his horse forward and began to charge down the dune. "Sorry, Mende, but I know it's her! You're just gunna have to trust me. It's a gut feeling!!"
Mendeleeve blinked, then became flushed as he tried to hold back the annoyance brought on by his reckless counterpart. "Epimetheus!! Blast it all, how many times must I tell you not to take offensive actions based upon the inclinations of your digestive tract?!?!" Mendeleeve turned to a subordinate with a harsh expression. "Remain here! We will need no other soldiers on the field!" The green-armored horseman flicked the reins of his steed and followed after his comrade.
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Posted: Fri Aug 13, 2010 12:16 pm
Ganon smirked as Jaren let the chain wrap around his arm. Okay, not the best option, but with a sudden yank, he was able to badly throw the swordsman off-balance during the approach. Unfortunately, this did not prevent Jaren's attack from connecting, and instead of a small, shallow slice across the belly, Jaren's blade cut a long, still shallow gash from Ganon's right hip to his left shoulder.
The snake's eye widened as the pain kicked in. "Damnit," he snarled, closing his eye tight, claws going to his chest as blood began to trickle heavily down his chest and belly.
His weapon fell from his hands, and returned to its original form immediately upon landing in the sand, the chain vanishing from around Jaren's arm.
Ganon stared at the red blood flowing down his stomach-- his shirt and pants were torn open by the blade and his entire front, from his bare crotch up to his neck, was exposed. Pain thundered behind his eyes as the normally calm, friendly, forgiving bard attempted to cope with this betrayal.
He used the damn sword. He tried to kill me. Jaren. Cow guy. Tried to kill. Kill.
The hgi-val is a peculiar creature, quite as much beast as man. Hgi-val are known for their savagery and power when confronted, and most are not opposed to killing and devouring any human that wanders close to their village. Ganon has come a long way suppressing his instincts, forcing himself to become more and more human to fit in, dissociating himself from the beast. But when his instincts rise up in the interest of self-preservation, there is very little he can do to control them. The shock of being attacked by a friend left him vulnerable, and from deep in his chest, the beast rose.
And a beast, when cornered...
Ganon turned suddenly, his eye white with rage, the pupil reduced to the narrowest of slits, and he suddenly bore an impressive display of teeth. They curved back to wickedly sharp points, designed to take hold of anything he bit and force it to go down his throat. He roared suddenly reaching out to grab Jaren's neck with one claw, and in the midst of his deafening screech, two rows of teeth could be seen running down the roof of his mouth. Panting, enraged, struggling to suppress the urge to kill, to kill this potenial threat and feast upon its flesh, his arm shook, claw clenching around Jaren's throat.
He could have killed the boy right there-- by strangling, by disemboweling, by sinking his enormous canine teeth into his flesh over and over until he simply bled to death. His arm shuddered, not with the effort of holding the scrawny boy off the ground, but with the effort not to crush his wind pipe.
He stood, holding the myrmidon up off the ground, locked in stalemate with his own instincts-- and suddenly a dagger whipped over his shoulder, missing Jaren by inches and tearing through the light fabric of Ganon's already-ripped shirt, leaving a bright red line in the scales on his shoulder.
He turned with terrifying speed, eye blazing, then turned his head and, with a roar, flung Jaren hard at the thief approaching from his right, who was knocked unconscious by the impact. Ganon let loose a terrifying, screeching roar to the heavens as any control he had maintained slipped away in an instant. He turned and lunged, sinking claws into the stomach of another thief, then tore his arm back, pulling with it a spray of blood and a clawful of intestinal tract. The third thief was skidding, trying to stop and turn in the sand, but Ganon dropped the corpse in his claws for fresh prey.
The reptile lunged, eye wild, jaws slavering, blood trailing from his claws, soaking his arms up to the elbows, and landed on the bandit, slamming him to the ground. There was a series of popping snaps as the man felt his ribs crack under Ganon's weight, but he needn't suffer long-- his terrified screams were silenced with a gurgle as Ganon sank his teeth into the man's neck and tore out the trachea with a thrash of his neck, showering himself with a fresh spray of crimson.
He chewed ferociously on the gamey tendons, then spat them out distastefully and let his tongue flicker out.
Another dagger whiffed past his head, and with a deep growl, he turned suddenly to face the thief who had thrown them.
Said thief was really wishing he had practiced with his aim a bit more.
Every conscious part of Ganon's mind was terrified, struggling to stop the raging instincts, the ancestral memory of the hunt, the absolute and complete domination of their environment, the need to kill, lest he die.
But the beast had the reins. With another roar, Ganon charged. At some point, he was dimly aware, one of the bandits he had just killed had managed to cut his left arm. It was bleeding heavily, but he wasn't really cognizant of the pain. The thief with the throwing knives was turning to run, but Ganon, charging at full speed, back parallel to the sand, tail lashing back and forth to maintain balance, caught him easily.
The hgi-val's claw wrapped around the main's arm roughly, and then the other sank into his shoulder, claws digging in under the bone, digging into ligaments and tearing the flesh. He pulled and twisted roughly as the poor man screamed in pain and horror, and then began to sob as his arm popped out of the shoulder socket.
But Ganon wasn't done. He roared and bit into the flesh, then pulled and twisted and thrashed and tore until the flesh could no longer sustain, and with a gushing spray, Ganon ripped the appendage messily away from the torso. There was a deep, sickening crunch as the bones broke in Ganon's jaws, as he chewed and mangled the severed limb.
The bandit was silent, pale white, jaw open, his entire body shaking as Ganon loomed up over him. It was over quickly; the force of Ganon's fist caved in the man's face, forcing the nose bone up into his brain, and he fell to the scarlet sand.
The snake looked up, dropped the arm into his claw, soaked in blood and panting, and let loose another roar at the army before he turned and dropped to all fours, loping off toward Pentheus.
By the time he caught the rest of the Learanians, he was exhausted. The severed arm was left back somewhere well behind him, and he was stumbling. Soaked in blood, wracked with pain, and terrified by the massacre he had just committed, he staggered into and among the ranks, swooned, and summarily collapsed.
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Posted: Fri Aug 13, 2010 2:52 pm
Jaren's sword went past Ganon's guard and connected with the lizard, his attack had been fouled up by the tug on the chain and Jaren knew the cut would go deeper and longer then he expected. He did his best to try to minimize the damage so he wouldn't actually slice Ganon's unprotected skin underneath his outfit. But when the sword cut the snake Jaren discovered something curious.
There was too much resistance, no fabric felt like that underneath a sword, no skin felt like that either... it was almost like cutting a wyvern. Jaren's eyes widened in shock as blood began to flow from the wound, that meant... that meant... Jaren held his position of finishing the cut as he stared into Ganon's eye, just as surprised as the hgi-val was.
"G-ganon, y-you're.... You're bleeding?!" he whispered in shock as Ganon looked down at his wound. "It's not... your not" Jaren's mind immediately stopped and he just stared and gaped.
And then Ganon grabbed the myrmidon and lifted him into the air, Jaren dropped his sword as his hands flew to Ganon's wrist. Jaren couldn't breathe, Ganon was about to snap him like a twig, but he was struggeling, Jaren didn't know why but it allowed him a precious breath for a moment. "I... hurrrk, I'm sorry, Ganon...." the fact that an apology was so important to Jaren that he'd use up the last of his air to make one wasn't meant as begging. He actually was sorry, although that was no excuse.
Wsssh
Went the dagger as it whistled past his ear, Ganon turned then and seemed to lose the humanity he had apparently struggled to gain in the first place, with a roar Jaren found himself tossed aside like a ragdoll. The improvised projectile known as Jaren slammed into the thief that had thrown the dagger, thankfully the myrmidons landing was cushioned by the body of the unfortunate thief who was knocked out by a flailing elbow.
Dazed Jaren opted to lie on the ground for a bit, maybe he'd take a nap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Jaren next opened his eyes he found Ganon running towards Penthaus, already to far to peruse. He also could see the remnants of the carnage that had been left behind, something in his mind threatened to tear lose as he replayed in his head everything that had happened.
"I-It wasn't a costume. I-I cut him... I cut Ganon... It's not a costume." He stood up and babbled to himself on the verge of losing it completely. In almost a trance Jaren wandered over to where his sword was, when he bent down to pick it up though he noticed it had the bards blood on it.
"Hehehehe" He giggled before passing out.
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Posted: Mon Aug 16, 2010 7:46 pm
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •  Eventually, Deborah found herself to be the only one affiliated with Learania left on the field. That was good. The others could get away. That was what was important- she was not. Deborah would have been surprised if anybody thought she was. If something happened to her, none would remember her name. Her existence would fade from the people's minds. And nobody else could deal with Mordache the way she could. Because unlike her... they never had. That was why it had to be her who stayed.
The first insects from the blanket of evil reached her. Cockiness overcame the fear of death. Deborah was just one soldier. To the soldiers that had emerged out in front, dealing with her was the most simple task in the world. They were dead wrong.
The first came and suffered a speedy lash with the Kaftian spear. Deborah ran forward and met the next soldier just the same. The charge had separated the front lines from the main charging force. At least for a little while, she could handle the army one by one.
Mere moments into the fight for her life, Deborah had already killed five soldiers and more were coming. She blocked the lance of one, stepped back, and then plunged her weapon into his gut. She was barely given a moment in pulling back the spear, when she was forced to swing her lance, scratching across the face of another. He dropped his lance and fell down, clutching his eyes. Two came at her and Deborah pushed one of them back with a kick while nailing one in the gut with the pole end of the spear. As the soldier leaned forward, Deborah turned and stabbed him in his exposed face. The soldier who was kicked recovered and came back with a vengeance, but his attempt to do harm was thwarted by his lance being knocked to the side, leaving him exposed to the spear that went right through his gut.
Deborah glanced around and dodged the swing of a lance, then another. The soldiers were thickening. She couldn't afford to stay in one place for more than a couple seconds. After another parry, Deborah landed a deep scratch on one of the soldiers, and then took off running.
Weariness tried to creep upon the Kaftian, but she ignored the impulses her body were giving and kept going. She had to keep going. She could not stop yet. When a soldier caught up to her, she jumped to the side and abruptly stopped so that he could pass. She lunged at him with spear extended, then kept running and let the soldier’s body fall to the ground. She looked to her right and saw that another one had reached her pace and was running parallel with her. Deborah’s spear clashed with her enemy’s once, before she charged him, causing the soldier to trip over himself. A spear soared overhead and lodged in the sand in front of Deborah, forcing her to spin around it. That in turn, slowed her just enough so that she was forced to deal with another lancer. More spears came, the fools tossing away their only weapon on hand. The closest any of them got was cutting short one of Deborah’s dreads. The soldiers had to realize that it was naïve to think they could hit her while she fled, but must have felt they had to try. If anything, it made Deborah even more on edge than before.
The fight led back into the ruins quickly and the soldiers were forced to narrow their charge to fit into the area. This made the advance of the soldiers in the rear slower, nothing more. Deborah made her way over to a stone staircase, the soldiers naturally following her. She met several at the bottom of the stairs. She blocked one lance, kicked one soldier back into some others, and then swiped her spear. She began to slowly ascend the staircase, taking on one soldier at a time. Her location made it impossible for her to be overwhelmed by numbers, which was essential. The more she moved up, the more bodies of the enemy began to fall off of the stairs. Before long, the corpses that lingered and blocked the way began to stain the stairs red. Once Deborah reached the top, she slashed the stomach of one soldier, knocking him off, and then kicked the next one. The force sent the soldier falling back into the spearhead of the soldier behind him, which knocked that soldier back, and so on and so on, all the way down the staircase.
Though old, the stone which had been used to carve out the stairs was still strong enough to withstand Deborah’s attempt to crumble it. Deborah growled, and took several deep breaths, but her rest only lasted a few seconds. More soldiers charged up the stairs and Deborah began to fight them off as she had done before, but was forced back onto what was now, through the destructive force of time, the roof of the old Sentrian sentry post. As many soldiers as could fit joined the woman on the roof and tried to surround her. However, Deborah would not let them. A lance came at her and she blocked it, and then spun around to dodge another. She then kicked the soldier into another one, who was knocked off the roof. Two came at her at once, and Deborah tried to knock the lance of one into the other, but failed to do so and sustained a scratch on her shoulder, though it did not run deep. But the injury did signify that her reflexes were slowing. It also increased her rage, and in response she grabbed the shaft of the soldier’s spear, pulling it passed her along with the soldier who was then sent off of the roof. The other jumped back and went to stab, but Deborah parried and thrust her own spear into his neck. The first who had been kicked had recovered and came back as well, but Deborah ducked then came up with a powerful arm jab to his stomach. She followed through by forcing him back, off of the roof.
But during that fighting, more soldiers had come up on the roof. Deborah clashed lances left and right, but soon realized she had to get away. However, there was nowhere to go. Glancing around, she saw that the other soldiers who had entered the ruins had surrounded what was left of the building. It seemed as if there was nowhere to run. The soldiers on the ground smirked, thinking that they had captured her. However, what they somehow had not realized by now… was that Deborah was a fighter. She would not be taken so easily.
After kicking a soldier away, Deborah hopped up onto the sentry tower that stood about a foot away from the roof. Right as she landed, the tower began to tilt. Her eyes widened as she struggled to maintain balance. Clearly, the tower was not the most secure structure. Though Deborah could not see, the base of it was greatly damaged. Her jumping onto it was more than it could take. As Deborah leaned forward, the tower began to tilt away from the ruins. On the ground, the soldiers began to look at each other nervously and some began to run. The tower tilted more and more until it full out began to pick up speed and fall towards the ground. Deborah was scared out of her mind, but was more focused on trying to land without killing herself or becoming incapacitated. The soldier began to shout and the ones in the crashing tower’s path tried to flee for their lives. However, not all could push back their comrades enough to get away. The tower crashed into the ground, crushing the soldiers beneath it. Debris was scattered, injuring soldiers who were not underneath, too. Deborah was sent flying into a group of soldiers. Luckily for her they were trying to flee, so their weapons did no crippling harm.
She rolled with the landing and tried to get up as soon as she stopped. She managed not to break anything, or so it seemed to her, but her side was now in pain. A large cloud of sand had been kicked into the air and the soldiers were running around like mad. Deborah used the distraction to begin running. She made it a couple hundred yards away before the sound of horses caught her ear. She turned to look and through the sand cloud, she saw a horseman in red armor coming right at her.
A curse escaped her lips as she tried to run faster. But after that fall, it was useless. The Mordachean knight was catching up very quickly, and Deborah knew that she could not escape him. She turned around and held her Kaftian spear out in front. She saw the man’s axe and if she had more time to pay attention to detail, she would have recognized it. As he got closer, Deborah ran a few steps, then knelt down at the last second and thrust her spear up under the man’s horse. The next sound heard was the heart breaking neigh of a dying horse. The poor animal galloped until pain took over and caused it to fumble and collapse. Half of Deborah’s spear was lodged within it. The other half was still with Deborah, who had been knocked onto her back.
A low growl was emitted from the Kaftian as she started to sit up. Realizing that her spear seemed lighter, she looked down and saw that it had broken. That spear was the only thing she had from her homeland. Now it was gone. …But she still had a weapon.
The shouts of soldiers returned Deborah’s mind back to the battle. She got to her feet, stumbling one, then looked at the horse. The man was still recovering, too. She began slowly jogging away, and then looked back to the man, realizing that she recognized him. He was one of Mordache’s top officers. He was one of the ones that had captured her when she was in Mordache around a year ago. Her eyes narrowed. It dawned on her that in her condition, escape was impossible. She could not outrun the soldiers for much longer. Instead, she turned around and looked over the group of soldiers that were now very near. From her back, she pulled her last lance and held it out. The golden lance, Graver, shimmered in the scorching sun. If she had thought about it, she would have given it to Ephraim or somebody for safe keeping. Once the fight was over, it would end up in the hands of the enemy. And she would most likely be dead. Hope was gone for her now. There was no chance of survival.
But she would meet the army of Mordache in battle, nonetheless.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • [Totally not 100% checked for grammar and the like]
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Posted: Wed Aug 18, 2010 12:19 pm
Epimetheus and Mendeleeve Mendeleeve passed through the sand cloud just in time to see his brother topple to the side, his horse slain. The green knight quickly dismounted and handed the reigns to a foot soldier. "Remain here!" Mendeleeve knew he could not beat this enemy on his horse. The person's mastery of the lance was clear. He took off with the rest of the infantry that wasn't in shambles and prepared to engage the Learanian.
The appearance of the soldier became clear as Mendeleeve got closer. The dark skin, the red armor, the dreadlocks, all those were too much to be a coincidence. Once he got a look at her face, Mendeleeve was able to confirm through fact what his brother had felt. The soldier, the woman before him, was that escaped prisoner from around a year ago. The revelation gave new meaning to the fight. She was not a common foot soldier, no, she was much more. The two horsemen of Mordache had witnessed her feats before. However, they had also captured her before, as well.
Mendeleeve detoured over by the fallen horse and saw his companion getting up. Blood escaped his mouth and head, but he was never one to take consideration for his wounds. "Epimetheus! Do not twaddle! You were correct, it is her. She has incapacitated nearly half of our infantry, already. We shall take care of her, together. Pull yourself up and come along!" Instead of helping his brother up, Mendeleeve took off to deal with Deborah.
"Damn it...! Stupid b***h...!" Epimetheus slowly got up and look up when he heard his brother shouting to him. "No s**t it's her, Mende!! Damn it, I thought I had her, too... I'll show her!" He grabbed his axe and stumbled around his horse, before following after Mendeleeve.
Once Mendeleeve caught sight of the golden lance, a gleam appeared in his eye. Desire overtook him for just a moment and his heart yearned for possession of it. But he was never one to consent to how he felt and pushed the thoughts away. He knocked a soldier to the side and came at the woman with a slash of his blade. Epimetheus was not far behind and he was in full out rage. Once he got the chance to get near the woman, he made an attempt to swing his axe behind her. The woman was good, but now she had to deal with two Mordachean generals along with the soldiers.
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Posted: Sat Aug 28, 2010 6:18 pm
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • There was no waste of time in the enemy’s move. The green armor stuck out and emerged the same memories Deborah had about the red-armored one. She would have to face them again. As the sword slash came, Graver’s effects went immediately to work. The weapons clashed and the sword was forced down against the wielder’s will. The weight of it proved too much. A surprise to the paladin, no doubt, and it was a shock Deborah would take great advantage of. With the sword pinned, Deborah spun in and nailed Mendeleeve in the face with the back of her left upper arm. The force knocked him back and Deborah ran off.
She was stopped when Epimetheus leaped in front of her and unleashed a beastly swing of his axe. Deborah pushed off the ground with her feet and managed to avoid the blow. The axe came back around and that time Deborah had Graver prepared. The lance made contact and the axe feel sharply to the ground. Deborah moved in with a knee the man’s gut. She would have been able to get back but by then Mendeleeve had recovered. She spun around and knocked back the incoming sword- Graver had made it significantly lighter and easily deflectable. As Epimetheus got back up, Deborah jabbed the blunt end of the lance at his gut. Being hit there a second time didn’t make the man happy.
Fighting both Mordachean generals at once was the very definition of difficulty. If not for Graver, she would have been defeated already. Having been through so much and being in plenty of pain, she stood no chance without the legendary weapon. The skills of the men she faced were tremendous. She blocked one hit only to have to deal with another and was only able to get in a few blows of her own. She wasn’t capable of blocking every strike, either, and sometimes had to parry. Her endurance was phenomenal but was beginning to fail. Clash after clash, pivoting, jumping, striking, lunging, it never seemed to end. The soldiers stayed back for the most part, so as to not get in the way of their commanders, but an occasional one leaped in when they saw what they thought was an opening. There weren’t any- and they paid for that mistake with their lives.
The never-ending dual resigned its title as Deborah managed to knock away both men with a full circle twirl of the lance. The weapons became light and like with the sword earlier, they flew back. It was at that moment that the soldiers jumped in. Their commanders were left open and they wouldn’t allow some woman to defeat them. Deborah used the tactics familiar to her and did her best to prevent being completely encircled. Her location changed like the shifting sands and could be marked out by the trail of corpses. Though mighty her lance was, she was weary and found it hard to go on. Her success did not last forever, either. As she deflected a weapon, sending it flinging yards away, she spun around to meet Mendeleeve coming in with a swing of his sword. Graver did its work in making it heavy and pinned it to the ground. But Epimetheus was not distant. He swung his axe upward, underneath the lance. It became heavy like the sword and the weight of it forced the lance out of Deborah’s hands before crashing back down.
Deborah’s eyes widened and the chilling feel of having her lance knocked away. But she did not turn to hysterics. She jumped back, ramming into the soldier who had lost his weapon, then began to run. The soldiers pursued her hastily. She had not seen where Graver had gone and had no time to find it. The weapon that had been flung from the soldier was before her and she grabbed it from the sand as she ran. But she could not run very fast. She had to constantly deal with the soldiers that caught up to her. When her leg muscle began to surge with pain, Deborah was forced to stop and nearly collapsed right then. She turned to the soldiers and implemented the tactic she used last winter in Estarcia. The crazed shrieks she unleashed caused the lot of the soldiers to stop in their tracks. Feisty jabs of the spear kept them back. They had no interest in being skewered by a maniac.
Her tactic, however, did not last forever. She could not run and was eventually completely encircled. She fought them off the best she could, felling about five before her spear broke. With no weapon left, she resorted to hand to hand combat. She kicked back soldiers into other soldiers and fired flurries of punches to the exposed parts that armor did not conceal. Try as she did, she could not defeat them all. A lance found its way into her side. It did not sink deep, but it immobilized her actions greatly. A punch to her gut forced out a gag and ended her fighting. She fell to her knees. Soldiers grabbed her and picked her back up. She struggled with them, but her strength was depleted. They had captured her. She was at the mercy of Mordache's soldiers.• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • [Nooot checked for stuff.]
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Posted: Sat Aug 28, 2010 7:19 pm
Epimetheus and Mendeleeve The Mordache commanders promptly ran after the woman. Epimetheus took but a moment to wallow in the victory of getting that blasted lance out of her hands. Mendeleeve joined him after recovering it for himself. When they caught up to her, their soldiers had already subdued her. Epimetheus began to cackle through his strenuous breathing. He often seemed to loose bits of his sanity the more he fought. After days of battle, he was known to become completely incoherent. Some said it was because he became drunk by indulging himself with pleasure in battle. Epimetheus forced some soldiers aside and walked up to the woman. "Well, that takes care of that! Too bad you're against us, I think I might have been able to have enjoyed you." He chuckled as he lifted the woman's chin with his index finger.
The next thing Epimetheus knew, said finger was in pain. He began to shout and promptly slapped Deborah across the face, relieving the pain. "You b***h! You bit me!! YOU b***h!!" In his anger, he hit her again. "I'll kill you!!" Epimetheus took a hold of his axe and raised it up.
"Epimetheus! Stay your arm!" Mendeleeve came forth and his brother reluctantly complied. "She is a wanted criminal and we will deliver her to the Baroness as ordered. The next in command will lead our forces on to Pentheus and we will return to the capital with a small group of guards. We shall not blunder our capture of her a second time!"
Epimetheus lowered his axe slowly and growled. "...I know, damn it! We won't take any chances. The first thing we'll do is go straight to the Baroness. That way she can't escape in prison." He glared at the woman, then turned away. She pissed him off too much. "The hell are you idiots standing around for?! Get me a damn horse!!! Move it, you bastards!" Epimetheus stomped off.
Mendeleeve looked Deborah over, then shook his head. "...Hmph. For one woman, you have been a great pain. I hope the Baroness is relentless." He sheathed his sword and handled the golden lance with care. "My thanks for the gift, by the way. I'm certain the Baroness will be pleased to lay eyes on it." He turned to the soldiers. "There are some bandits who survived the trap. Round them up. Do not concern yourself with those that can be saved by being healed, unless one of them is the leader. They will be taken to Pentheus." He then turned to the one soldier holding Deborah. "Come. We will reform and then set out."
And so the orders were followed. The surviving bandits were aroused and the leader, along with some squealy kid, was among them. Deborah was bound tightly with more than just one binding. A group of horsemen separated themselves from the main army. Epimetheus and Mendeleeve were with them. After a few parting orders, the two commanders set off back to Mordache with their prisoner, while the bulk of the army continued to Pentheus.
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