|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 12:54 am
Tybalt charged forward, using his large size to his advantage by running directly into people and knocking them off his feet and to the ground. He was on his own now, now that he had somehow lost sight of Dev, but regardless, he carried on. There wasn't much point in turning back now. The battlefield was chaotic as it was, but trying to locate a single person in the middle of it, was just crazy. So as much as he didn't care for the idea of leaving her own her own, he continued to move forward, lashing out at every human he came across on the field. He had been pretty successful too. The black dog had managed to dispose of a few more, before the thundering sound of hoof beats alerted him to another solider rushing at him. This one mounted on horseback.
Terrified, his mind froze. It was out of instinct alone, that he somehow managed to bite down onto the human's leg and drag him down from his saddle; savaging him until he no longer moved. This didn't seem to go over well with the horse, however, who startled by the black dog's presence, reared up onto it's hind legs and struck out at him and then, as if that wasn't enough, proceeded to trample him under its heavy feet.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 1:08 am
When Ouranos first set foot in the magnificent temple, heard the words "trance" and "guidance" float through his ears, a tiny spring of hope had welled up in his insides. Trances were something he could do. Quiet meditation, staying still and withdrawing within oneself-- those were things he could do. There it was, the initial glimmer of hope... that he could actually succeed in this class!
He stood motionlessly, rapt with attention, as their surroundings melted and revealed the priestess Medea. She was mysterious, robed in deep plums, glittering with gold; she would be their professor. She spoke enigmatically, and in her faintly amused voice... Oura thought he sensed a veiled warning. But for what...? And who? Before he knew it, everything was fallling away around them, until there was only white... and three curiously distinct doors. Ouranos' blank gaze swept to and fro, much more eagerly than normal. This was just like a pre-dream state, the blank canvas of an unsuspecting mind. This was something he knew. This was something he could work with!
Guidance, the priestess Medea had said, leading the class towards the first door. Oura followed dazedly, a faint, earnest smile upon his lips... he was ready. He was sure he'd be able to--
Shouts. Roared instructions. The clang of armor and the ring of metal on metal...
His eyes snapped wide. Oura looked from side to side in shock. What was this?! They had suddenly been thrown in the midst of what looked like a warzone! Though the distant hills and temple seemed idyllic enough, the dead ground beneath them and the enormous, milling centaurs were enough to shatter Oura's daydream. What had happened to entering trances, and finding inner peace...?
The centaur had finally noticed the group of students, and was now speaking seriously to the robed figure. Ouranos was suddenly filled with great unease. They were speaking of... battle? Weapons? Ambushes? Heading out? Wait, wait... what?!
He could only follow numbly, feeling his insides float away, as the rest of the class rummaged through a stack of crude weapons. Suddenly, Ouranos had turned from a dream-bound sandman... into a child soldier?? How would he manage to use any of these? the boil wondered in inward despair, regarding the pile of weapons with a blank face. Nevertheless, the rest of his classmates had chosen; so should he. Stepping forwards, betraying none of his inner turmoil, Ouranos hoisted a rusty copper sickle in one hand.
He had no idea how he managed to keep up with the class, much less the stern and focused centaurs. Yet, Oura drifted along behind them, only coming to a full stop as they surveyed their enemies below... humans. A massive flood, an innumerable wave of humans awaited them... the boil's eyelids closed heavily. The centaurs were fighting a losing battle, and bringing the students along for the ride.
Medea, the boil thought. This was the priestess' plan. This was part of the lesson... for what purpose, Ouranos did not know. Yet. But he was sure that they were all about to find out. Gulping down a shaky breath, the boil headed directly into the chaotic fray, facing his doom.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stratham rolled 1 100-sided dice:
72
Total: 72 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 1:13 am
As he had expected, it was over before it even began. A wisp of a boil, with as much physical prowess as a dead fish, Ouranos had no hope of crossing the warzone alive... much less taking down an enemy. He wandered through the violence in his typical manner, looking about haphazardly for a target-- but a target quickly found him. Before he had time to raise his sickle, Oura found himself on the parched earth, cheek against the dirt. He gave a long, deep sigh, whiteness blossoming at the edges of his vision. It wasn't surprising that this was how it would end... he had seen many deaths in a similar fashion in human nightmares. Ironic that it was now his turn to experience it...
Just as he was about to fade entirely, Ouranos heard a faint, sweet sound flowing through his ears. Though he teetered on the edge of oblivion, the song warmed his insides, bringing feeling back to his body... Ouranos lifted his head, then his arms, sitting up dazedly. Around him, the battle still raged. It looked like the fates still had a purpose for him here...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stratham rolled 1 100-sided dice:
90
Total: 90 (1-100)
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 1:15 am
It wasn't long before Ouranos found himself dangling precariously close to death yet again. He had been weaving slowly through the battle, trying his best to avoid the bloody confrontations, when a human slammed into him from behind. The boil flailed helplessly as he went down, dropping his sickle in the process.... above him, the human raised his sword, eyes glittering with victory and malice. "Die, you monster!"
Ouranos squeezed his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable end. He felt the whoosh of metal through air, as if in slow motion, then...
"STOP, YOU FIEEEENDDD!!!!"
The roar came from somewhere close, loud and rumbling. It may not even have been directed at his attacker. Yet, when Ouranos cracked open an eye, he saw the human above him whip around to the source of the voice.... and then, there was a head flying towards him, scattering blood as it fell. Ouranos blinked, still frozen from shock. But he quickly crawled backwards as the ex-attacker's head rolled gently to his feet.
His mouth set in a thin, taut line, the boil got to his feet. He picked up his sickle.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stratham rolled 1 100-sided dice:
88
Total: 88 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 1:16 am
Ouranos choked, his pale neck grasped within two very hairy hands. The human who glowered at him-- a gigantic bear of a man-- lifted the young sandman straight off his feet and into the air. "You dare think you can rule humans? Pitiful creatures! Die, along with those centaur scum you call friends!"
Oura had no idea about politics, or ruling rights, or centaur human relations. All he knew was that stars were bursting behind his eyes, his throat on fire as he shook and gasped for breath. His hands tore uselessly at the human's vice-like grip. Why had it come to this...?! To suffer dying over and over again, knowing that he could not fight it... could not fight anyone? He was merely a sandman, a ghost in the night. Not a warrior...!
His consciousness was fading. The last thing he saw, his arms falling limply to his sides, was the human's leer... and then, hazily... a loud, piercing call. It seemed to come from very, very far away. Ouranos' eyelids fluttered, and suddenly, he was on the ground, gagging and gasping as air rushed into his lungs.
Who had called? The boil looked up wearily, panting, dark tinges beneath his eyes. His fingers brushed the deep red bruises around his neck. His eyes swept the dirt, littered with yet another bloody head-- that of his former attacker's-- then came to rest upon his sickle, lying some distance away.
He wasn't dead yet, though he wished he were.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stratham rolled 1 100-sided dice:
100
Total: 100 (1-100)
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 1:17 am
He was sure that this wasn't merely a lesson anymore. It was torture. Ouranos fled through the battle, as fast as his legs could take him-- which wasn't very fast. On his heels was a group of humans, axes and swords raised, hunting him. Why? For what reason? Ouranos had no idea. His mind was blissfully blank as he raced along, running on adrenaline and anguish alone. What was there to be learned here, except that the only thing he could do was run? The copper sickle whipped about uselessly in his hands.
He wove through the crowd, through fallen humans and centaurs alike, and those still locked in battle. It seemed he had managed to shake off most of his pursuers... except one. Ouranos gritted his teeth, and screeched to a halt. He was sick of running. Running was what humans did when they were afraid. They did it all the time in nightmares, running from things they had no courage to face. Ouranos hated it-- and right now, he hated himself just as much.
The boil faced the advancing human, his face empty, calm. If this was what Medea had thrust them into, planned for them to face, then so be it. He wasn't going to be afraid anymore. Ouranos closed his eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time today, and waited for the human to strike.
Just then, he heard the voice. The same one that had called last time, just before he choked to death. A female voice that called from a distance, piercing and shrill... Ouranos wondered, his eyes slowly opening.
The human who rushed him had stopped, looking around confusedly. Ouranos did not have to think to know what would happen next. He threw up his hands and backed away; the human staggered, his head exploding violently off his body and into the air.
Ouranos' breath came heavy as he shielded his eyes and gazed into the distance. Someone was watching over him. Someone did not want him to die... yet. The thought of this alone was enough to bring a faint flicker of hope into his heart.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stratham rolled 1 100-sided dice:
31
Total: 31 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 1:18 am
For the first time that day, Ouranos grasped his sickle, and made a stand.
He had experienced four near-death moments, witnessed three heads spiraling through the air-- and had been saved by one or more mysterious guardians. He was ready to put an end to all this. So when the humans noticed him standing quietly, and rushed to accost him, Ouranos steeled himself. He raised his weapon grimly. This is all just a dream.
He swung and stepped back, ducked and slashed. The curved blade cut through human throats more easily than he'd like to think. His face a tight mask, Ouranos brought down two humans before their captain-- a much larger man bedecked in strange iron clothes-- gave an enraged roar. He turned his steed around, heading straight towards the boil at a gallop. Ouranos took a deep breath, steadying himself as the captain came racing right towards him... he raised his sickle, and squinted. His heart hammered in his chest.
The steed was only a couple feet away, its hot breath grazing his face, when Ouranos twisted back-- and flung his sickle into the air, like a discus. His aim was true. The blade caught the beast in its neck, and it gave an ear-splitting cry, thrashing and trampling everything in range-- that included the captain, who was thrown from its back and now lay motionless on the dirt. Unfortunately, there was no time for Ouranos to make an escape; the beast knocked him down, along with everything around them. But from the moment Oura had thrown his sickle, he had known this would happen. He regretted nothing.( Death post is here )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:02 am
Upon entering the room, it felt like she had slipped in to a dream. A blankly white, foggy dream. But she knew she was awake. This was one of the strangest sensations that the hell hound had ever felt. However, it really wasn't a bad kind of strange. It was a comfortable and reassured strange. The thick scent of incense filled her sinuses and she couldn't help but take in a few deep breaths, trying to hold on to it for as long as possible. But this moment of bliss wouldn't last.
Whisper's heart jumped slightly as things felt as though they were shifting. She had been so enveloped by the calm that she hadn't really been focusing on anything else. The priestess drew her attention away from the uneasiness that had temporarily overcome her. Whisper was sure that no matter how badly she just wanted to sit and breathe, she had to pay attention to Medea. She had to focus her mind and keep herself from wandering. The robed figure began to speak, and she dutifully listened. What she was informing them of, seemed almost similar to what she had done a few months previous. Though with her last experience, it was more to discover the frightening beast within. A violent, uncontrollable rage that could only be fixated on one target until it was satiated. Whisper hoped that this time things would end a little better.
She followed the priestess, as the others did, through the ornate door. A battle field? It had such a different feel from the previous room, and it slightly unnerved the ghoul. Everything had changed. It almost seemed as though there was an aura of desperation in the air. Desperation to win. This was apparently a rebellion. And she had to fight.
She really didn't mind fighting anymore, and after just spending time in the isle of War, she was tempted to take up a weapon. But this didn't feel like the time for steel. It was a time for raw strength, agility and fury. She would use what she naturally had, and what she had was a massive hound form. Whisper would use it to intimidate and strike fear into her weaker foes. Or so she thought.
The humans who they were fighting, seemed smarter then she had given them credit for. This could spell trouble.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Getsurae rolled 1 100-sided dice:
29
Total: 29 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:03 am
The massive hound ripped through the advancing forces, taking the humans in her jaws and throwing them through the air indiscriminately. If they survived the throw, they were sure to bleed out through the bite wounds. Whisper wasn't sure how to feel about killing them. They were their enemies, but at the same time they were human. They wouldn't dissipate and come back. They would meet their ultimate end right here, on this battle field. But if it really was an us or them situation, she would much rather have her kind survive.
There were a few who seemed to put up a better resistance then some of the others, but none of them had really been much of a challenge. That was until she started attracting the attention of the units on horses. She was roughly the same size as them, but they were still powerful. Especially when they attacked as a group. It was unfortunate that they also seemed to realize this fact. She could see a small group of them heading towards her, and she was tempted to retreat. But what would they think of her if she ran away? Whisper was not a coward. That wasn't an option.
It wasn't long before she was surrounded, and there wasn't much she could do about it. She swiped and bit at them, managing to take out a few, but she was overwhelmed. She felt the hooves breaking her bones, slowly beating her to death. She let out a single whimper before one final blow to her head ended it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:41 am
Aymet couldn't help but fidget a little as he sat there, impatiently. There was nothing to look at but blank white fog, blue fire, and other students doing a much better job at meditating than he could even if he tried. But Aymet didn't smell the heavy incense. It just clung to his bones in smoky curls.
In contrast to his previous year, it felt like he was thinking way more than he ever had. He was thinking about the simple, perfect purpose he'd had as a weapon. About a hunter thrashing and bleeding to death before an audience of students who knew the killing would continue no matter what they chose.
But more pressingly, about hidden prisons and dangerous glyphs deep below the island of Famine. With a name like 'Death', it was going to be hard to believe that this island would be any less dangerous. Islands were having a tendency to be bad news.
And yet there he was, in a temple on the Isle of Death, signed up for what was perhaps the quietest class he'd ever experienced in his unlife.
The teacher didn't waste any time when she arrived, though. Before he knew it the world had reformed around them, brighter and greener than any place in Halloween. A little breezier too.
He glanced down.
Not that there was any time to be confused or embarrassed. He caught enough of the conversation between the centaur and the other to get the gist of it - there were humans that needed scaring, or skewering, or maybe both. This was either a different time and different place than the modern-day horsemen islands, or, given some of Aymet's wilder theories, not as far from the same time and place as one might imagine. He grabbed a couple of daggers (he couldn't help it) and followed the others to battle, pretty openly staring at the soldiers around them.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 1 100-sided dice:
57
Total: 57 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:45 am
They overlooked a human encampment very different than he would have expected. Any human that had no fear of their kind couldn't be good news. These humans were in armor, not coats, but they still brandished weapons. Kind of like the crude ones he'd picked up. And suddenly there was shouting and metal clashing. Now this was a real game of D&H. Sure, they were surrounded, but the idea of fighting humans was still... thrilling. The first one to get close went down quickly, much to the surprise of both of them. So was the way he died with terror on his face and a dagger buried nearly up to the hilt in his chest. This place couldn't be real, and yet Aymet could taste the human's dying FEAR, as real as Halloween, invigorating him. He wanted more.Quote: 41- 60: Whether by sheer fluke or luck, you manage to kill your first human, their Fear as they die, staring into your eyes empowers you, making you feel stronger.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 1 100-sided dice:
72
Total: 72 (1-100)
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:48 am
The next few humans did not die at all, pushing Aymet farther and farther back. He was starting to fade at the edges when a soft singing restored the calcium to his bones. Quote: 61 - 80: You feel yourself tired, overwhelmed by the barrage of attacks, ready to dissipate at any second when you hear a voice, a soft singing. You feel recovered now, replenished, able to go on again as you immerse yourself into the battle.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 1 100-sided dice:
84
Total: 84 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:51 am
"CA-CAW!" Aymet and the human who had a sword to his throat both glanced away for a split second. A fighter in a birdlike natural form swept the human's head right off its shoulders, a bright spray of blood staining both their robes. The body didn't seem to realize what had happened and stood there for a few seconds before Aymet pushed it away and it followed the head down with gravity. At least he didn't explode? Quote: 81-100: Just as you think it is over, an ally shouts, distracting your opponent. You look up just in time to watch your opponent's head get clawed off violently.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 1 100-sided dice:
59
Total: 59 (1-100)
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:54 am
The next human to be on the receiving end of his daggers didn't get a drawn out ending. Many feet, both human and non, trampled the fallen body in the midst of their own fighting. But the human still looked up from the ground, up at Aymet. Strength filled him as the human's life slipped away. Was this the way it had been? Or the way it should be?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 1 100-sided dice:
8
Total: 8 (1-100)
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:56 am
No singing came as the droves of humans began to overwhelm them. They were like a swarm of insects - cutting a few down had done nothing to stop them pouring from their hive. He was losing his FEAR fast now, especially as the humans drove their weapons into him. In contrast to how immaterial most things in the human world were, these weapons hurt. They sliced through his bones, severely slowing him down. Quote: 1-20: You see several humans brandishing their weapons at you: they sting and hurt you badly, and you limp, trying to regain your composure
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
