Welcome to Gaia! ::

((*apologizes and dodges the errant vegetables thrown at him in anger* sorry....again...i was out of computer access for a week, so i clearly couldn't post. i think i can make up for this though))

Trask was barely conscious when the girl wrapped him into her arms. She had said something about a brown herb, but he was far too delirious to make sense of it. Grateful, though he was, for her attempts to keep him warm, he was fully aware that it would not be enough for him to maintain consciousness, and so, using as little energy as possible, he attempted to fall asleep. In the distance, though, he heard the sound of machines.

Whatever that is, it doesn't sound good... There must be some way I can help instead of just lying here helpessly. he thought. Moving as little as possible, he turned his head to the machines and found that a direct application of brute force was complete suicide, especially for someone of his size, and that stealthy maneuvers were too difficult due to the sheer numbers of the opposition. Fortunately, the machine appeared to be running on an internal combustion drive, meaning that it relied on fire to move. If only that girl were not lying on top of it... I could make the machine explode. I could try to get the wind to push her out of the way, but...there's not enough time for that.

Valenarr seemed ready to charge headlong into the raiders, which was an unwise decision, for only one with skill like that off the gods in the arts of war could survive such an attack. What he needed was a distraction.

Trask concentrated hard on the workings of the engine. So many minor and controlled explosions in such quick succession were difficult to manipulate, and they were so complex that he was unable to simply extinguish the flames, which was the obvious solution. The heat had go somewhere...but where would it be safe?

I can't make it safe for us... but... Of course!

What followed was a strange sight to behold. First, the engine stopped--apparently on its own--and then, over half of the raiders who surrounded it burst into flames, equally inexplicably. Those who were spared such a fate were astounded, to say the least.

Even stranger, Trask sprang back to life and said to Valenarr, "Now would be an excellent time to attack, it would appear. Just ignore the ones who've burst into flames, and be careful not to get burned."

He was still slightly cold and damp, but it bothered him minimally. He could have hit another guy with that magic, but he wanted to save a little heat for himself.

Valenarr quirked an eyebrow at the occurences, and then again at the small creature that spoke up. "Do not tell me what to do, lizard." He said with no attempt to mask the hinting bitterness in his voice. "I was already on my way..."

Valenarr raised and opened palm, thrusting his katana back into its sheath. He murmured a few words in Mirrian, and a burst of fire flew from his fingertips, engulfing a group slightly ahead of the machine. This, of course, got the raider's attention, but they were in a mass confusion.

Turning his palm, he did something similar, though this time lightning, a very large, though singular bolt, streaked from his fingers, blasting only about four or five raiders, more towards the front.

This only served to make them even more confused. "That's all I can do for today. I'd need to rest to recover my magic, so..." He drew his katana.

Grabbing, ahold of an upper branch, then another, then another, almost like a ladder, Valenarr soon stood halfway up a nearby tree. Leaping, both swords drawn, Valenarr landed in the fray. The confusion was perfect for him.

Running his scimitar through the gut armor of a raider, the blade went all the way through, the tip visible from the other side, red with blood. With his katana he fended off an attack or two which were inconsistent. Ripping his scimitar from the now-dead raider, Valenarr wheeled around, and with a sound that could only be the cleaving of flesh, sinew and bone, a raider's head rolled into the crowd only to be stomped by the confused raiders.

A raider lunged in from behind, but Valenarr heard it, grabbing ahold of the man's arm from behind while still holding his sword. Flipping into the air, Valenarr landed, facing the man's back and ran his scimitar through the man, the blade showing, glittering with crimson, from the front. The man's face was pure shock as the blade passed back through him, his body falling to the ground.

More strikes forced Valenarr into a more defensive standpoint, holding his swords in a way that he could deflect any attack from almost any angle, attacking where his opponents allowed. Soon, he came to stand near the edge, having walked his way there while blocking, quite a feat.

Blocking attacks that rained on him like hail, Valenarr cursed. He knew he couldn't handle them all, but he wanted to... and not getting what he wanted aggrivated him to no end.

(Prince of Persia 2 style, bizotches! biggrin Sorry, but I just got the game ^^; )

"Thanks." Valenarr muttered under his breath. Grabbing the nearest raider, he spun him, back facing to him, drawing his blade across the raider's gut and cleaving him in half, sending the two halves spiraling. The kill, rather noisy, got a few raider's attention, and he sent his blade through one's head, his scimitar through a sternum, and his boot into a kneecap, making it go into reverse. The raider with the broken leg, screaming in pain, attracted a few more before he was decapitated by Valenarr.

Kicking one back, hilt-punching the other, grabbing and twirling behind the third, he stabbed the back of the raider twice, then, with a scissor-motion, he chopped his head off, forcing himself back so the points of his blades went through the chests of the raiders.

More were coming but in fewer groups.

Valenarr loved this sort of combat.

(Hey, don't make me do all the work! sweatdrop )

Hmm. If air feeds fire, then wind magic.... and that was enough thought for Trask. He was unable to control wind at a distance, but he could manipulate it directly around himself. Gathering all his mental prowess, he began to lift off the ground--his floating, a silent antithesis to the action around him--and he sped at the nearest flames. They caught onto the quick-moving air around his body and quickly surrounded him. Trask then manipulated the air, the fire, and himself, to essentially become a fireball, darting in and out of combat through the ranks of the raiders.

It was a very surreal feeling, being surrounded by fire, and it was quite refreshing to be able to use his powers in such an unusual fashion. Valenarr may not need his help, but Trask would be damned if his small size would reduce his worth in a fight.

As trask turned, he saw, through the flames, one of the girls being attacked by a raider. As the brigand raised his weapon once more, Trask took note of a strange mark that the solder bore. He didn't recognize it, but it seemed to be of religious or political importance. Trask charged through the air at the soldier, determined to prevent his next attack from landing on Ash'rael.

Valenarr's eyes narrowed as he severed an arm of a raider. "Damn, that woman's going to get herself killed."

This distraction enabled a raider to give Valenarr a healthy cut upon the arm, where his chainmail did not protect him. "Damn!" He hissed in pain, quickly disarming the man that cut him, literally.

Valenarr's blades cleaved flesh and bone alike, always finding their mark in necks, between plates, in thighs, heads, groins, arms, whatever they could bite into. At the center of this storm of steel was Valenarr, his shining, golden eyes narrowed, his face expressionless as he rended flesh and bone with his katana and scimitar.

Then it stopped. A circle of raiders gathered around him, none of them coming within reach. Valenarr stopped, poised, one blade raised, the other down, across his thighs, though it was before him. His eyes shone with a deadly malice, against those who would stand in his way. The only quarrel he had with these men were that they obstructed his path. He couldn't have given a damn about the town, or the forest. 'It'd be better off if these sun-lovers would all get torn up, anyways...' He thought, referring to the town.

But no. It was time to vent. Time to kill, time to rend and murder, and do it in a very 'pretty' way. All of the anger he bore everyone but him was now focused upon the diminshing crowd of raiders.

And could he manifest it all at once, he could've destroyed a good portion of the planet. But instead, he focused upon extinguishing the lives of these raiders.

He could smell their fear. Hear it. Taste it in the air. Feel it all around him, an aura of that which preceeded death.

And Valenarr, as of right now, was practically Death incarnate.

As he turned to each face in the crowd, one by one, swords poised, a solitary expression grew on his face. He did not frown. He did not scowl. He did not grow angry, sad, or anything of the sort.

He smirked.

((Nothing to say! gonk Oh, by the way, welcome to the RP, Soloist! Now, me being the wonderful person I am, I will involve you in the action! *coughalmostgetyoukilledcough*))

Ash'rael shrieked and dodged to the side while the raider was staring at some little lizard-like creature that had zoomed into view. She took the situation as a blessing and scrambled off, away from the battlefield. Since she had no weapons, the idea of helping was unknown.

Not paying any attention to where she was going, she tripped over a root and tumbled, landing in a heap right next to someone. She spat out leaves and looked up. At first, she thought it was another raider, ready to end her life. Only seconds later, she realized it was only a human...sketching...in the middle of this fight.

She couldn't find words to describe her amazement. Was this man sane? Did he want to be killed? Unable to speak, she only stared at him, blinking repeatedly.

Ash did what she was told, wondering where the thought had come from. She realized soon, when the raider found himself without a weapon. Staring, awestruck, she wondered how he could predict an event so clearly! Panting, she uttered a breathless, "Thank you."

When she heard him comment about the Youlands, her heart nearly stopped. Was her tail showing? Was she bleeding again? Looking around frantically for the evidence, she found none. Her tail was securely hidden beneath her dress and her wound was covered by the vines. Then how did...? Daring to ask, she cleared her throat.

"Excuse me," she said, "How-how do you know who I am?" He looked like a mere human, to her. Perhaps he had some device that could tell the races apart. Maybe...it was just a blind guess...

Her mind was reeling with ideas and it was beginning to give her a headache.