Post by Outsider on Mar 4, 2014 17:16:24 GMT -5
Storming the Keep
Facing the darkness and gasping for air, the foul stench of Orcin filth filling his lungs..the Outlander stood grasping his blade. Captain Lukai's blade..a symbol of forgiveness..redemption. Vraes wielded that blade with the precision and power of a mountain lion. Back and forth slowly he moved it, as if inviting the darkness to attack. The din of battle below had all but died as they moved higher into the keep, revenge was now on Vraes's mind. Sweat trickling down his brow, smeared away quickly with a filthy forearm greased from many battles.
Called back to by the click of Selen's dagger hilts he became aware..the shadows burst forth toward Vraes carrying that overpowering smell of filth. The Outlander sprang forward instinctively rumbling over the dead swiftly to meet his newest foes. Selen shadowed behind him almost seeming more to glide than to run, eyes darting hither and fro, blades following swiftly behind. An Orcin elite trying to flank Kjartan..fell dead before a grimly smiling Selen. Crackling flames burst forth from the cloaked wizard, brows peering forward..leaving a trail of acrid smoke past Selen, two of the Baron's archers collapsed with a crunch.
All draws quiet for a moment. Blue radiance burst forth lighting the dark room once more. Vraes grimaces, "I don't know that I'll ever get used to those blue fingers weaving and binding my flesh together again. The gods verily move among us, Kyera."
A brief excerpt in the tales of four unlikely heroes...
Out of the Frying Pan
A flicker of flame floated above the fingers of a man with a careworn face. Deep eyes peered forth from a furrowed brow as smoke curled forth from the wizard's pipe and danced away into the dense cavernous air. "We should move out early." Kjartan said to his new friends. "The ratkin will be on the prowl for our skins..and much worse besides.."
"Not that you can tell light from darkness in these eternally dim caverns." Vraes grumbled, turning over in his cloak trying to find the rest that so wantonly evaded him. Even when he did sleep the dreams were not pleasant..always hands behind him, trying to grasp his throat no matter how fast or how far he ran. Nay, peaceful sleep did not enter his mind, but at least what sleep he found nourished the body.
Our heroes arose early the next morning and marched most of the day.
Out of the gloom ahead a sign post appeared, "Oskahold" it read. "Finally some real rest!" Selen exclaimed. Kyera and Vraes exchanged looks. "It may not be that simple Selen, but we shall see. There is no doubt we need supplies and my bones verily ache for a warm bed as well." As they approached the sleepy town all was quiet and serene, almost beautiful compared to the endless, featureless caverns through which they had marched. Vraes paused, "Something here is not right. Barricades and trenches..this place has seen battle, and recently.." Blood stained the cavern floors, broken arrows littered the defenses. A cry went up from the town walls, "Ratkin!" the defenders cried in dismay. Vraes could see the fear and defeat in their eyes, "Come! We defend the town!!" All fear was shut out of Vraes's mind..this is the one place he found peace..the battlefield.
Effortlessly and in one motion Vraes pulled the shield off of his back and leapt forward. Without hesitation the others followed closely behind; already they almost knew one another's minds in battle. Never retreat, always attack. A flash of blue light tore into the enemy archers, fingers grabbing the sinews of their muscles, rendering them weak and slow. Within seconds daggers were disemboweling their guts, and a mighty blade slew the others. Blood fell like tears.
No sooner did the ratkin archers perish and a roar went up from the town, first of victory, then of dismay.. More ratkin poured forth onto the battlefield at the heroes rear! In an instant Kyera found herself surrounded being pummeled by jagged ratkin blades beating on her shield and tearing into her flesh. Flames rose up before her engulfing the foes, crumpling them to the ground into a pile of ash. A moment later Vraes was by Kyera's side steadying her, "Can you still fight?" he asked. "Yes." she replied grimly, raising her arms to the gods she became encircled in a vortex of blue light. All of time seemed to stop and watch.
At that moment Selen spotted in the distance the darkness she felt inside. She locked eyes with those dark, bulbous, mad eyes of the great ratkin shaman driving a last horde before him. "Now!" she shouted, "We fight for Oskahold!" Kjartan began a mighty incantation; a whirlwind of dust and smoke, guided by his hands from above his head, hurled unto ratkin elite they now faced. Coughing and wheezing the troupe of ratkin tried to fight through the haze, but again Kyera flashed down the piercing blue anger of the gods rendering their joints stiff and their blades slowed.
No battle prowess of the ratkin elite could keep Vraes's blade from rending their flesh. No shield could repel Kjartan's thunderous balls of flame, sundering them apart and setting the ratkin alight to the delight of Oskaholdians! No armor could keep Selen's daggers from piercing their flesh and bringing the mighty low with calculated strikes. Today was not the ratkin's time. Never again would it be the ratkin's time. The seemingly mighty Baron would be laid low, our heroes would see to it.
An excerpt of the tale of four mighty Heroes...of Steel!
Snapping Victory from the Jaws of Defeat
A cold vapor obscures the air, searing the lungs with each gasp...
The echo of our footsteps dies to a whisper before reaching my own ears. How can anything survive in such a place? We took our rest in an empty camp site upon reaching this new depth of hell under earth. Was it just last night that we fought those...no, I cannot even speak of them.
Vraes examines his arms, barely visible in this depth, obscured by the penetrating vapor, gashed but slowly healing.
"Bleh, I can barely breathe down here!" Vraes rasped.
"Nothing about this place is natural," Fyona replied. She peered about, mistrusting of this darkened road, "I thought we'd be nearing the Shaman lair, he was just within our grasp..and yet he escaped. Your wounds were deep Vraes, how do you feel?"
"I live, that is enough. We must press on." Though Vraes was reluctant to say anything, the wounds he sustained fighting Death incarnate ached all the worse in this poisoned air, "We must press on."
The clash of steel echoed in Vraes's mind...
Whirling about with the ferocity of a cornered animal making their last desperate defense, Vraes smote down upon his enemy with all of his massive strength. The creature with giant blades fused to it's hands twisted his blow aside with a sneer. "It will take more than your might to kill me human. I am he who cannot be killed!" the creature cackled, sending shivers down Vraes's spine. With an agility that rivaled even that of Tamilin the creature darted at Vraes sundering down upon his shield, piercing it with it's mighty claws, rending it aside with the strength of ten men. The creature bore down upon Vraes, the claws of its feet grappling onto his chest, and with its other claw slashing down his sword arm.
"Aaaaaiiiiiaaaaarrrrggghhh" Vraes cried out falling to his knees before the mighty Deathkin. "Not like this, not now..." he despaired.
At that moment the voice of Cortias spoke to him, "Rise champion, now is not your time." Or so Vraes thought. The voice was gone as soon as he heard it, and seemed but a figment of his imagination. The darkness was lifted from before his eyes, and he stared back into the black bulbous eyes of his foe. Even as he watched, one disintegrated with disconcerting 'pop' followed by a wretched scream from the beast. Vraes turned about, gazing over his shoulder, Tami smiled back at him. With a nod she urged him to his feet. He peered down at his blade upon the ground, kneeling down he grasped the hilt, finding renewed strength. Sensing his end, the Deathkin raised his bladed hand for one last Death Strike...
Fyona surged past Vraes with a battle cry rivaling that of any man he had fought beside, and brought to bear the justice of Cortias upon the doomed beast. With that one mighty swing it fell to its knees. The remaining Ratkin howled with anger and fear, making one last desperate push to save their fallen leader. Arrows whistled past Vraes dropping the Ratkin Elite attempting to reach the Deathkin's side. And yet more pushed forward! For an instant all became bright as the sun they had never seen. The creatures stopped in their tracks, simultaneously attempting to cover their ears and eyes, though their hands never got there. They fell where they had stood, ashen outlines upon the cavern floor. Glancing back once more Vraes locked eyes with Vincent, how they glowed.
Then with his remaining strength Vraes drove his blade deep into the gut of his mighty foe, leaning in he whispered in its ear, "Say hello to Ryethin for me." And dropped the beast to the ground.
"Vraes...Vraes are you alright..?" he heard a voice say.
Returning to, "Yes.. yes, we must press on. The Shaman cannot be far now."
Facing the darkness and gasping for air, the foul stench of Orcin filth filling his lungs..the Outlander stood grasping his blade. Captain Lukai's blade..a symbol of forgiveness..redemption. Vraes wielded that blade with the precision and power of a mountain lion. Back and forth slowly he moved it, as if inviting the darkness to attack. The din of battle below had all but died as they moved higher into the keep, revenge was now on Vraes's mind. Sweat trickling down his brow, smeared away quickly with a filthy forearm greased from many battles.
Called back to by the click of Selen's dagger hilts he became aware..the shadows burst forth toward Vraes carrying that overpowering smell of filth. The Outlander sprang forward instinctively rumbling over the dead swiftly to meet his newest foes. Selen shadowed behind him almost seeming more to glide than to run, eyes darting hither and fro, blades following swiftly behind. An Orcin elite trying to flank Kjartan..fell dead before a grimly smiling Selen. Crackling flames burst forth from the cloaked wizard, brows peering forward..leaving a trail of acrid smoke past Selen, two of the Baron's archers collapsed with a crunch.
All draws quiet for a moment. Blue radiance burst forth lighting the dark room once more. Vraes grimaces, "I don't know that I'll ever get used to those blue fingers weaving and binding my flesh together again. The gods verily move among us, Kyera."
A brief excerpt in the tales of four unlikely heroes...
Out of the Frying Pan
A flicker of flame floated above the fingers of a man with a careworn face. Deep eyes peered forth from a furrowed brow as smoke curled forth from the wizard's pipe and danced away into the dense cavernous air. "We should move out early." Kjartan said to his new friends. "The ratkin will be on the prowl for our skins..and much worse besides.."
"Not that you can tell light from darkness in these eternally dim caverns." Vraes grumbled, turning over in his cloak trying to find the rest that so wantonly evaded him. Even when he did sleep the dreams were not pleasant..always hands behind him, trying to grasp his throat no matter how fast or how far he ran. Nay, peaceful sleep did not enter his mind, but at least what sleep he found nourished the body.
Our heroes arose early the next morning and marched most of the day.
Out of the gloom ahead a sign post appeared, "Oskahold" it read. "Finally some real rest!" Selen exclaimed. Kyera and Vraes exchanged looks. "It may not be that simple Selen, but we shall see. There is no doubt we need supplies and my bones verily ache for a warm bed as well." As they approached the sleepy town all was quiet and serene, almost beautiful compared to the endless, featureless caverns through which they had marched. Vraes paused, "Something here is not right. Barricades and trenches..this place has seen battle, and recently.." Blood stained the cavern floors, broken arrows littered the defenses. A cry went up from the town walls, "Ratkin!" the defenders cried in dismay. Vraes could see the fear and defeat in their eyes, "Come! We defend the town!!" All fear was shut out of Vraes's mind..this is the one place he found peace..the battlefield.
Effortlessly and in one motion Vraes pulled the shield off of his back and leapt forward. Without hesitation the others followed closely behind; already they almost knew one another's minds in battle. Never retreat, always attack. A flash of blue light tore into the enemy archers, fingers grabbing the sinews of their muscles, rendering them weak and slow. Within seconds daggers were disemboweling their guts, and a mighty blade slew the others. Blood fell like tears.
No sooner did the ratkin archers perish and a roar went up from the town, first of victory, then of dismay.. More ratkin poured forth onto the battlefield at the heroes rear! In an instant Kyera found herself surrounded being pummeled by jagged ratkin blades beating on her shield and tearing into her flesh. Flames rose up before her engulfing the foes, crumpling them to the ground into a pile of ash. A moment later Vraes was by Kyera's side steadying her, "Can you still fight?" he asked. "Yes." she replied grimly, raising her arms to the gods she became encircled in a vortex of blue light. All of time seemed to stop and watch.
At that moment Selen spotted in the distance the darkness she felt inside. She locked eyes with those dark, bulbous, mad eyes of the great ratkin shaman driving a last horde before him. "Now!" she shouted, "We fight for Oskahold!" Kjartan began a mighty incantation; a whirlwind of dust and smoke, guided by his hands from above his head, hurled unto ratkin elite they now faced. Coughing and wheezing the troupe of ratkin tried to fight through the haze, but again Kyera flashed down the piercing blue anger of the gods rendering their joints stiff and their blades slowed.
No battle prowess of the ratkin elite could keep Vraes's blade from rending their flesh. No shield could repel Kjartan's thunderous balls of flame, sundering them apart and setting the ratkin alight to the delight of Oskaholdians! No armor could keep Selen's daggers from piercing their flesh and bringing the mighty low with calculated strikes. Today was not the ratkin's time. Never again would it be the ratkin's time. The seemingly mighty Baron would be laid low, our heroes would see to it.
An excerpt of the tale of four mighty Heroes...of Steel!
Snapping Victory from the Jaws of Defeat
A cold vapor obscures the air, searing the lungs with each gasp...
The echo of our footsteps dies to a whisper before reaching my own ears. How can anything survive in such a place? We took our rest in an empty camp site upon reaching this new depth of hell under earth. Was it just last night that we fought those...no, I cannot even speak of them.
Vraes examines his arms, barely visible in this depth, obscured by the penetrating vapor, gashed but slowly healing.
"Bleh, I can barely breathe down here!" Vraes rasped.
"Nothing about this place is natural," Fyona replied. She peered about, mistrusting of this darkened road, "I thought we'd be nearing the Shaman lair, he was just within our grasp..and yet he escaped. Your wounds were deep Vraes, how do you feel?"
"I live, that is enough. We must press on." Though Vraes was reluctant to say anything, the wounds he sustained fighting Death incarnate ached all the worse in this poisoned air, "We must press on."
The clash of steel echoed in Vraes's mind...
Whirling about with the ferocity of a cornered animal making their last desperate defense, Vraes smote down upon his enemy with all of his massive strength. The creature with giant blades fused to it's hands twisted his blow aside with a sneer. "It will take more than your might to kill me human. I am he who cannot be killed!" the creature cackled, sending shivers down Vraes's spine. With an agility that rivaled even that of Tamilin the creature darted at Vraes sundering down upon his shield, piercing it with it's mighty claws, rending it aside with the strength of ten men. The creature bore down upon Vraes, the claws of its feet grappling onto his chest, and with its other claw slashing down his sword arm.
"Aaaaaiiiiiaaaaarrrrggghhh" Vraes cried out falling to his knees before the mighty Deathkin. "Not like this, not now..." he despaired.
At that moment the voice of Cortias spoke to him, "Rise champion, now is not your time." Or so Vraes thought. The voice was gone as soon as he heard it, and seemed but a figment of his imagination. The darkness was lifted from before his eyes, and he stared back into the black bulbous eyes of his foe. Even as he watched, one disintegrated with disconcerting 'pop' followed by a wretched scream from the beast. Vraes turned about, gazing over his shoulder, Tami smiled back at him. With a nod she urged him to his feet. He peered down at his blade upon the ground, kneeling down he grasped the hilt, finding renewed strength. Sensing his end, the Deathkin raised his bladed hand for one last Death Strike...
Fyona surged past Vraes with a battle cry rivaling that of any man he had fought beside, and brought to bear the justice of Cortias upon the doomed beast. With that one mighty swing it fell to its knees. The remaining Ratkin howled with anger and fear, making one last desperate push to save their fallen leader. Arrows whistled past Vraes dropping the Ratkin Elite attempting to reach the Deathkin's side. And yet more pushed forward! For an instant all became bright as the sun they had never seen. The creatures stopped in their tracks, simultaneously attempting to cover their ears and eyes, though their hands never got there. They fell where they had stood, ashen outlines upon the cavern floor. Glancing back once more Vraes locked eyes with Vincent, how they glowed.
Then with his remaining strength Vraes drove his blade deep into the gut of his mighty foe, leaning in he whispered in its ear, "Say hello to Ryethin for me." And dropped the beast to the ground.
"Vraes...Vraes are you alright..?" he heard a voice say.
Returning to, "Yes.. yes, we must press on. The Shaman cannot be far now."
