The battle of Belatona

[Rhaxta]

The wind snapped past the mans ears as his dragon righted itself above the keep of Belatona. Having used magic to improve his vision, he cast deep-set brown eyes over the sea of grey cotton tents, particularly the figures moving around them. The Vardens army..scared into wakefulness by the deep thunderous roar of the shadow-coloured dragon beneath him.
He chuckled to himself, a deep reverbration through his wide chest.
''Look, my sweet. Don't they look ever so tired''
A loud, purring growl that distorted the very air around them that emenated from the gigantic dragons chest was his only reply.

He watched as their numbers lined up, moving into position in three seperate line ups along the walls of Belatona, even as the huge bells of the keep cried the warning of approaching battle to the soldiers within. Only minutes later, like a great unstoppable tide of red blood, the red clad soldiers began to file out and over the walls of the city.

Three batallions formed up in front of the two gates that allowed entry into Belatona, whilst all the archers lined up along in groups, scattered at equal intervals along the battlements. There was a good number of ballistae, however. These pleased him.

It was a bit of a poor excuse for a city to spend any time defending it, in all honesty. Not like Uru'Baen, where an army could get lost and disoriented in the numerous, narrow streets while him and his soul-partner rained firey death down upon them.

Belatona had a large outer wall, scattered inside which were the majority of houses- these of course belonging to the citizens. The closer to the wall meant the higher your status and taller your roof.

After that lay another - shorter albeit thicker wall, that totally spanned the large keep at the city's heart. Along this was the rest of their contingient of archers, after the rest had deployed on the field and on the other wall.

There were few wards to guard the citizens, peasants and indeed even the soldiers. The faveorites were saved for that, and a great deal of the magicians.

With a discontented snort, the man reajusted himself and cast his eyes back to the battlefield and the surrounding skies.

''Come out, come out..wherever you are.''
The man snorted, he was determined that he would be the first to spot the saphire dragon and her grub of a rider that opposed them, as he had a bet with Murtagh. There was another, similar bet, as to who would cause the first wound, the first drop of blood...etc

He found Murtagh enjoyed these less, yet he himself relished in them. He loved battle, he loved blood. He loved winning.

Another roar bellowed out from the dragon beneath him, and he swerved and began to crawl ever higher into the air, ready to plummet at a moments notice once they had spotted their prey. He wanted a glorious victory for himself, and the Vardens men looked to dishevelled for him to consider it proper sport. He would wait for the big game.

A few minutes later, the first screams and cries of agony floated up from the battlefield below, where the first wave of each army had just met.
''Let us begin.''

(You can have free rein of the battle from now on chaps. It's all cool to take control of some soldeirs, happy with you having some NPC 'magicians' if you want something to play with. Just keep it sensible- and remember, no one is invincible!)

[~Edit~]
((Put more details on what Belatona looks like and fortifications and such..save me stressing out. Detailsdetailsdetails.))

[madge]

The battle raged on, the sound of screams and agony could be heard from many leagues away. Ty sighed, looking up to Xion. The large dragon lowered his head, to where his snout was pressed firmly against his rider's forehead. For a moment, the two closed their eyes, surrounded in silence. "I have to put these wards on, then we can join the battle eh?" Xion opened his big emerald green eyes, staring deep into Ty's eyes. This was the pairs first actual battle. Sure Ty and Xion had practiced one on one, but never before had they experienced the gifts of blood that war would have to offer. It took quite a while to establish the wards, however Ty had to be sure that Xion and himself were safe. He placed wards to protect his organs, his spinal cord, and his body. He did the same for Xion, and went further to increase the durability of the wards. Ty could feel his strength draining away slowly as he uttered each phrase. After Ty was satisfied with his work, he would open up his mind, allowing Xion In. "Are you ready Xion?"[/color][/b] The rider asked. "I'm always ready for battle." Xion replied. As dragon spoke, Ty could feel a sense of pride emitting from Xion's self conscious. A faint smile crossed Ty's lips before the rider lifted his head to the clouds. He raised his right palm to Xion's left cheek, returning his gaze to his dragon. "We won't be able to speak very much once we arrive at the battle. I don't want magicians prodding around your mind, as well as mine." The dragon nodded, sending images and feelings of love into Ty's mind. The emotion flowed into him, causing his smile to become more noticeable. Ty nodded and lowered his hand, running to Xion's side as he threw himself up into his saddle.

After Ty had made himself quite comfortable, buckled the straps around his legs, and made sure his equipment was set, he would look up. The sky was beautiful, he hated the fact that he had to kill, but it had to be done to protect the innocents. "Let's fly", commented Ty. The dragon pointed his snout to the sky, a fierce roar escaping his mighty jaw. With that, the dragon would extend his wings, flapping furiously as the two gained altitude. Ty allowed himself to grab a large spike which protruded from the dragon's neck. He placed both hands firmly around the spike, just for precautions. After Xion gained as much altitude as possible, he would dip his head, folding his wings in. The two plummeted towards the earth, the battle now becoming visible. Ty could feel Xion pulling his self conscious away from his own, and he did the same. He hated to seclude his mind, but it had to be done. As the dragon neared the battlements, he would open his jaw, large amounts of bright red fire spewing forth onto the many Varden soldiers. Ty turned his head, the heat from Xion's fire now brushing against his cheek. The Archers who noticed Ty, lifted their bows, firing. Xion spiraled to the side, trying his best to dodge the many on-coming attacks. However, two arrows made their way towards Ty's chest. Thanks to the wards, the arrows didn't make contact. The line of Varden archers, once again prepared their bows, however Ty wasn't giving them another chance to draw blood. He removed his right hand from Xion's spike, aiming it in the direction of the archers. He spoke, muttering "BRISINGR". Bright red Flames would engulf the bows of the archers, leaving the men in shock. He didn't feel that taking their lifes would solve anything, thus he rendered them incapable. Ty looked around, noticing the amount of attention he had drawn. He cursed, now brushing his mind against Xion's. "Go into the clouds, there's too many eyes on us right now." Ty commanded. Xion roared in agreement as he gained altitude. Hopefully they would be out of the attack range of normal magicians, soldiers.

[Aisling]

"Where's my d**n Dragon Rider!" Commander Artemis bellowed atop her horse black war horse.

Everyone around her shrugged. But she could see the worry on all their faces. They knew that they would fail without Rider Faervel. They needed him. And he was Artemis’ responsibility. The commander let out a sigh. She would have to go out into battle without a Rider. She had a few magicians in her ranks but they could never cast the wards that Faervel could. Artemis grit her teeth and returned her focus to her men.

Her men were already quivering and shaking with the adrenaline of battle. Her tribe's war lords stood all around her and her underlings of her legion. She hadn't seen Faervel and Lumen and battle was almost upon them. And one of the Empire's rider had emerged themselves already. She was already beginning to fear the outcome of this battle. But the Devil’s Rage was already filled with blood lust, she was willing to fight to the death, and so were her soldiers.

Her men were already in formation, she and her War Lords rode through the ranks, checking every armour and every weapon. Soon Artemis drew her own curved sword, the blade gleamed in the sun. It was so clean, and she was hoping that it would be covered by the blood of her enemies. She said a silent prayer to the Desert Dweller’s gods and rode along the front line of her men.

“Men of the Varden! Men of the Othes Tribe! Men of All! Today is the day that we fight for freedom!” She shouted, her war horse was already rearing up on it’s hind legs as she paced in front of the soldiers. “Today is the day that we destroy the Empire and allow the Varden and Lady Nasuada succeed! Today is the day we aevage our families, are homes, and the deaths of our friends and comrades! Today is the day we bathe in the Blood of our enemy! Today is the day we WIN!”

With these things said, Artemis kicked her horse in it’s sides, charging into the fray. There was the loud ding of weapons, steal upon steal. There was blood splurting all over her and her horse. Artemis fought fiercely, remembering the destruction of her tribe and the loss of her home land. Every thought filled her with the desire to kill, to destroy. She swung her curved sword, knocking of heads of the Empire men before her. She did not care if they were innocent, the Othes tribe took no mercy. An enemy was an enemy.

She was not immortal, a wayward sword managed to pierce through a break in her armor on her leg. She did not feel the pain, nor did she feel the hot blood dripping down her leg. She was dead to all pain, and deaf to all noise. She continued to fight, until soon she and her horse were covered in blood. Artemis was begging to tire, when she came face to face with another mounted warrior. Their swords met in a clash, sparks flying in the air. The fought fiercely, matching each blow. They were an even match until a spear pierced her horse in the shoulder.

Artemis flung herself out of the saddle, before the mighty black horse fell over onto the body littered ground. The Mounted Warrior came after with a sure blow to the head, but the Desert Chief blocked it. With her free arm she grabbed the man and pulled him from the saddle so they were fighting on the ground. Their swords met again, with even more violence. They wounded each other greatly, in the sides and the shoulders. Each others’ blood covered their armor. Artemis blocked yet again another fatal blow. That’s when she saw in the sky the form of a Dragon emerging from the Varden side. Relief filled her, and so did new energy. She forced the man back, step by step, blocking every single blow. The man no longer had sure footing and soon tripped over a dead Varden solider. Artemis thrust her sword through the man’s throat as he lay on the ground, blood pouring from the wound like a flood. She ran to the man’s abandoned horse and mounted it.

“Waíse heill,” she muttered placing a hand on her wounded flesh. her energy decreased but the wounds healed quickly. She took a deep breath before riding of into the fray once more, ready to fight.

[Faervel Ningannel]

Faervel and Lumen soared through the sky, both of their armor glittering in the pale sun. The elf was already ruing the battle, he could already smell the death and blood as they approached. He could hear the clashing of weapons, the hollers of the wounded and the screams of the dying. Sorrow clenched at the Golden Rider’s heart. He hated violence, abhorred it, but now he must fight for his race and for his own freedom. With every flap of Lumen’s mighty golden wings, he could feel the adrenaline build up inside him. He remembered the battle of Farthen Dur and the Battle of Burning Plains. None of these battle could compare to the feeling and fears he ha for this one. He wasn’t quite sure if he was ready himself to go to battle, but he knew with Lumen by his side, he could overcome any obstacle that was thrown their way.

[/b]Are you ready, Fae?[/i][/b][/color] the mighty golden dragon asked, already tense with the thoughts of the incoming fight, I have no doubt that this will be quite the fight. I can feel the challange already.[/b][/color]

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, the elf replied.

Faervel took a deep breath as they flew lower toward the battle. He could see the standards baring the flags of both sides. He even saw the soldiers that were no doubt under control of Commander Artemis, the Devil’s Rage. He felt a twinge of guilt for arriving to the battle late but he knew exactly what his old desert friend would say, ‘Better late than never, is usually the saying but I think it should be ‘If you pull that sh** again, I’ll kill you.”
He couldn’t help but smile, he did enjoy her personality, no matter how scary it was. He placed his helm on his head, his blonde hair spilling out on the bottom, as they began to fly just over the din of the battle. Lumen let out a fierce mighty roar, she wanted everyone one to know she was coming and thats he was going to win.

The Varden Rider drew his sword, as Lumen sucked in a belly full of air. One. Two. Three. The Golden dragon, released a torrent of fire at the enemy troops as they flew barely 10 feet above. Faervel had forgotten just how long Lumen could sustain her flame, a minute had already came the flame was still at it’s height. He watched as the soldiers screamed as they succumbed to the flame. Spears were tossed at the Rider and Dragon, but they bounced of the wards that surrounded them. After Lumen’s fiery breath ran out, Faervel jumped gracefully of his dragon’s back and fought sword to sword with the soldiers, as Lumen tore them apart with mighty claws and gnawing teeth. Her armor was already growing dirty from the blood and dust.

Faervel killed the men with ease, for no man was a match for an elf. But he felt a presence in his mind. A not friendly one at that. He soon found himself in a battle with one of the Empire Magicians. Assaulting each other’s mind fiercely, but Faervel was in the middle of a fight and wished to end the mental duel fast. He whispered under his breath one of the twelve words of death, and the mental battle was over in a minute. Faervel made sure to be out of the man’s mind when he died, he had no desire to feel death that way.

Faervel looked to the sky to see red dragon and rider. His eyes narrowed a bit, the elf knew what had to be done. He fought his way back to Lumen and mounted her might shoulders. They took off from the ground, Lumen making sure to knock out out some of the soldiers around her with a might tail. They flew toward’s the clouds, they had no need to communicate what was going on, they both knew it instinctively. They were going to have to right the other Rider, and they had to be victorious.

[madge]

Xion roared, growling with anger. "Traitor, TRAITORS. Ty, behind us, there's a rider approaching us." [/b][/color]Ty turned in his saddle, a smile crossing his lips. "This is a chance to crush the Varden, and return peace to this land. Xion, keep flying higher until we're in the clouds." replied Ty, his eyes narrowing on the elven Rider who approached quickly. His blood boiled, and his anger began to rise. How could this 'man', this.. 'Rider' stand for destruction and chaos? It was sickening to Ty.

As Xion reached a suitable height, he would fling his body to the left in a horizontal flip. His wings were tucked in at this moment, allowing for the dragon to cut through the air with as much speed as possible. Xion was now soaring towards Fae with a brutal intensity. Another roar would escape Xion's jaw as he charged the golden dragon. From the on-lookers below, all that could be seen was a Golden / Red clash. As the two pairs neared each other, Xion would erupt in rage, fire spewing forth, in attempts to bathe his opponent in flames. "Why, WHY do you choose to bring chaos and destruction to this land! Don't you want freedom, peace? Fight with us, the Empire!" Ty yelled, holding off on any physical, mental attacks. Xion continued soaring downwards, after passing Lumen. "I don't want to kill anyone Xion, but i'll be d**ned if it's another rider. We need to try and demoralize the soldiers, that'll cause them to retreat." Ty commented, waiting for Xion's answer with patience. "Pretty clever for a youngling, fair point. I'm in no hurry to kill my own kind anyhow." Retorted Xion.

The red rider and his dragon soon came across the large cluster of Varden soldiers. With much contempt, Ty raised his hand, shouting loudly in the ancient language. "Andlat"! Many of the soldiers now falling to the ground, without uttering a word. "At least it was painless.."[/color] stated Ty, an expression of sorrow crossing his face. The two were closer towards the ground now, giving Ty the perfect oppourtunity to dismount Xion. "Please, don't die on me hatchling." Xion uttered, hints of sorrow and sadness heavy in his words. Ty replied by sending a steady flow of images, revealing him standing victorious amongst the dead. With that, The rider withdrew his mind, The dragon doing the same as they raised their mental barriers. Ty threw himself from the saddle, sword in hand. As he hit the ground, he coughed, the air being forced from his lungs. He struggled to stand up, attempting to catch his breath. The Varden soldiers however, had noticed Ty's opening, and darted forward. The leading soldier threw his spear at Ty's leg, in attempts of rending the Red Rider useless. The spear merely slipped by, the ward now draining Ty's strength. He soon caught his breath, and retaliated by thrusting his sword deep into the man's neck. The man stood there, motionless. His once bright eyes, soon faded into a dull grey. Ty however, ignored his emotions and moved on, slicing down who ever stood against him. He looked around, cursing. After his assault ended, he would be forced to take on arial combat with the golden dragon. He looked down to his sword, nodding his head. He didn't want to bring harm to the Golden rider, but if he had too, he would. At this point in time, Xion had taken off, attacking the Varden's left flank, fire erupting from his mouth. Many of the soldiers caught flame, the sound of screaming and pain filled the air.

[Rhaxta]

''This is why I hate crowds.'' Rhaxta said - to herself more than anyone else. A group of soldiers had charged into the frey, and seeing a small, red headed woman, charged as if they were galloping into the very maw of Saphira, determined to cut off her air.

She stepped easily around them, their movements seeming slow and sluggish. Swords arching past her and shields viciously battering against the air that had replaced Rhaxta's body only a moment before.

''They're rude,'' the slick thuck noise adding even more emphasis to the word as she slipped her short and sharp blade into a mans chest. She had gone through the fleshy muscle of the shoulder - after slipping through a seam in the armour at the man's neck - and worked her way down, behind the ribs. Her sword was slim enough to slip through a pair of ribs...yet this was easier, rather than wasting precious energy to pierce his armour. Plus, this was by far the more satisfying option.

With the tooth-on-edge sound of metal slipping through meat and against bone, she readjusted her grip and she drew the sword from the dead mans neck. The sword, now the wrong way round in her hand, whisked round and - throwing the man that had until then been it's sheathe away from her- swung in a great arching circle about her, the blur left behind like a skirt of silver silk with blood red trimming.

Two more fell with this stroke, as the sword continued it's irrepressible arc. Yet as she reached the end of her fairly elaborate twirl, Rhaxta was already focused on the last nearby man as the others hit the ground dead. Her sword behind her and the wrong way about, Rhaxta simply chose the easier option and - with a whispered word that seemed to suck at the air even as it left her lips - drew a certain important mineral from the mans blood. All of it.

About ten seconds later, the man realized something was horribly wrong. Twenty he was panicking, and ran at Rhaxta, having determined she was the cause of his discomfort and seemed incredibly intent on making it stop. Thirty, the man lay dead, five feet from her.

''That may have been over-doing it...at least I know that spell works now.''
Again, Rhaxta chatting away to herself as if in her own world. She had encountered a similar - in mental state more than looks- woman to her, with wild curls of pale locks hanging about her face. She was rather disheveled herself, and held a lovely weapon of a pole with a blade either end. Rhaxta complimented it as someone would a new born baby, or a fine horse. The woman seemed to appreciate it, though. Won in a bet or something to that affect. Their encounter lasted all of fifteen seconds before the tide of battle drew them apart.
Rhax liked her though, she hoped she would see her again if she herself didn't die.

Rhaxta was exhausted, but to the point of no longer feeling it. She felt rather sprightly, in fact. The air felt thick and soft and warm on her skin, and it was as if everything going on around her was somewhat detached from her reality.

A terrible, gut-wrenching chorus of screams erupted behind her. Nearby. Rhaxta spun on a toe and immediately saw the cause. Fire, dragon, death, pain. Rhaxta grimaced. Even those that were cooking smelt nice. Reminding herself to eat the next chance she got, to stop herself getting even more strange, she turned and fought her way the other direction.

Dragon, do not want to be there, no matter which side it was. It seemed all too easy to be crushed, purposefully or not.

Only then did Rhaxta realize, the red dragons saddle had been unoccupied. The red dragon. A slight shiver ran Rhaxta's spine as she recalled her previous and only encounter with Murtagh. It certainly had been interesting. She had no desire to be captured under his guard once again, no matter how... nice - caring even - he had seemed at the time. He'd stopped her having the living daylights kicked out of her by some of his soldiers. Never had the chance to wonder why before she - for the second time in so many hours - was the 'princess in danger' and was rescued by yet another prince.

Far prefered the second one though. Rhaxta smiled at the thought, a lonesome beacon of peace and warmth in the cold stinking death around her.

She could only feel like an idiot for a second after the unexpected, burning emoiton reared it's head - leaving a trace of heat heavy in her chest - before she was startled from her reverie.

A consciousness brushed up against hers, or rather fondled the mental wards she had placed about it - almost gently. Immediately Rhaxta cast her gaze around. It took a few minutes to find the owner- as she had to pause in her hunting to defend herself periodically- yet then she found the source. A woman - a magician, naturally; and wearing the Empires colours - was focusing on her in the distance, the soldiers seeming to gravitate toward her slightly. Reinforcing herself, Rhaxta sent a rage-and-woe filled stab at her defenses. The only emotions she dared grasp at, at the present time.
The magicians defenses caved surprisingly easily, to the extent where even Rhaxta paused; stunned. Snapping out of it, she forced yet further until she gained a modicum of control. Just enough to get the woman to raise the soldiers surrounding her and cast them back toward the Empires walls. Rhax retreated back behind her own eyes immediately after the magic had been released - for she had made the spell so it would use the energy in the magician, cutting her own off. She was impressed at the womans strength, to the point she suspected she might survive.

The magician slumped suddenly, the magic sucking the final drops of life out of her as it strove to complete it's task. The magician died before the majority of soldiers had embraced gravity and hit the earth. That was impressive.

As Rhaxta turned from the magician - a much wider gap in the torrent of bodies than before - and she spied a familiar face in the distance. Brown hair, dark eyebrows, tall (compared to her, anyway.
) Her heart sunk. If that was a Murtagh, he almost certainly felt that mental battle. She reinforced her ever-present mental barrier in anticipation for an attack. Yet, although the man was bonded with the red dragon, it was not Murtagh as she had suspected. She seemed to realize this as she got a better glance at the mans face. Before she could decide what to do, she was spun away in a wild dance as a large soldier charged her from the side, surprising her and attempting to flatten her against his shield and brain her with his hammer.

[Aisling]

Aisling had not seen the likes of a battle like this sense the Fall. She stood by Faeon proudly, watching as the people before her mauled each other, swords clashing and screams of agony. It was enough to make the Rider of Old cringe. Her brilliant white armor was already stained with blood, she and Faeon had needed a few moments of rest before they separated once more to fight of the Empire. They no longer need to communicate when each other was tired, they could just sense it. The White rider was not violent by nature, but this battle was drawing out every bit of vengance and sorrow the elf had in her. Every single bit of it. Both her and Faeon could no longer think clear thoughs without their thoughts being consumed by words like, Oathbreaker. Traitor. Murderers. Dragon Killers. Thw white elf knew it was time for the King's regin to end and for him to pay for his deeds. That was the cyclical nature of things.

Aisling looked at Faeon, with a look that said everything. Faeon let out a bellowing ancient roar. This whelps of Riders think they know everything. I shall put these hatchlings in their place, he growled to his rider. Aisling did not respond, but drew her white sword, stained red. She tore off her helm and allowed her hair to flow freely. Then she and Faeon merged their minds, seeing everything that each other saw. They both let out a savage roar and took off into the fray, fully rested.

They tore through the enemy, proving that they were both were fierce. They both came face to face with groups of soldiers. Through Aisling, Faeon saw her fight against of the men sticking a sword right threw his throat. And Aisling saw Faeon knock out groups of soldiers with his long streams of fire. They both became aware of the Red Rider and dragon, but they would not fight them. They knew that job belonged to Eragon or Faervel. This was not Aisling's and Faeon's battle, there battle was 100 years ago. They were just finishing the job.

Their mind's separated, and Aisling had already began to miss Faeon's mind as she stabbed yet another soldier dead. She pulled her sword of of the crack of his armor, and turned only to parry as blow that was heading straight for her head. The elf was quick and agile, and with every blow she didn't even need to block with her blade, she would side step and miss it. She even did a back bend or two until she felt something warm drip down her back. Her wound from the fall had yet again re-opend by a sneaking soldier who had snuck up on her. She did not feel the pain though and merely whispered a word of death and the man behind her died instantly and the one that stood before her got a sword threw his lower abdomen. Before he died, Aisling transferred the remaining bits of energy into her. As soon as he fell to the ground, the pain laced it's way through her nerves. She let out a cry in agony, and as she did she heard Faeon cry as well.

Soliders were approaching the wounded Rider, but she held her ground. Suddenly out of no where she found herself picked up by Faeon in his mighty talons. She breathed a sigh of relief as she painfully clambered up his back and into the saddle. She focused all her energy on the wound and it soon began to heal, no other thought passed her mind but the ancient words of healing. The Pair landed again only a short while after, Aisling feeling refreshed and invigorated. They said, their silent good byes and went off into the fray once more.

[Faervel Ningannel]

Faervel watched as the red dragon and Rider soar higher into the clouds. He sighed, he really didn’t want to go threw with this. It was paining him But at the same time, they were the ones who were standing in the way of peace. They too, were the cause of so much violence. So much death. The thought was enough to put the usually peaceful elf, in a fit of rage. The Empire was what stood in the way of peace, their King was the one that attacjed his people and destroyed the Riders. It was his fault that so many died, including his lover. It took of all of Faervel’s will to not break his oaths and attack the rider first, even though he could not.

Faervel! Their charging us! Lumen's panicked voiced filled his head.

The Golden Dragoness, immediately tucked in her wings and rolled out of the way of the Dragon his flame. Faervel allowed his body to move with the dragons, regretting his vows that he had taken. He could not outwardly attack the rider until he physically attacked him first. It frustrated Faervel to know end that he could not fight unless provoked, even if he was emotionally provoked. That's when the Rider spoke to him, and Faervel knew at that point he wasn't going to attack him.

"Why did you chose the same thing?" he shouted to the Rider in his usual elven way.

Lumen dived down toward armies below. She could sense Faervel's relief that he would not have to fight, but she had blood in her eyes. And she wanted the bodies of her enemies dead before her. She scooped up soldiers in her might talons and dropped them from extreme heights. Faervel couldn't help but marvel at his Dragon's blood lust. She had cut off all communication to him and he could no longer calm her down.

The elf felt a presence in his mind, yet another Empire magician. Faervel immediately broke into his mind and killed him with a word, as if nothing ever happened. The rider found several more magicians and axed them off similarily. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Rider Aisling and her dragon Faeon, fighting fiercely and soaring into the sky. He found The Rider of Old the most fascinating creature. And he wished to learn from her, but there was no time for that now. As Lumen landed for a second time he jumped of her back as she released a might flow of fire, and he gan burying himself in the fray of war, prolonging his arial combat as long as possible.

[madge]

(OOC: This post will take effect once Fae mounts Lumen and heads back into the sky)

Something unusual happened, Ty could feel a presence brushing against his conscious. He withdrew his mind from Xion's contact, raising his mental barriers as he proceeded to fight off the many on coming soldiers.Ty couldn't assault the magician, for he had enemies in front of him, and his strength was beginning to fail him. Enemies fell one after another, fear now spreading across the Varden. It appeared, that the mysterious Red Rider was more then a Rider, but a fearsome warrior. A Varden group quickly gathered around Ty, blocking off any possible escape route, separating him from his comrades. Ty was on the edge of collapsing, his energy levels dangerously low. "I'm sorry.."[/b] commented Ty. He looked around, glancing at the many faces who surrounded him. They began laughing, moving inward. Within seconds, Ty would extend his mind, taking grasp of the soldier's consciousness. All warriors froze, unable to move. Their eyes rolled back in their eye sockets, man after man now falling to the ground. For in fact, Ty was using the life energy of the soldiers to rejuvenate himself. After he had finished feasting on the plentiful stores of energy, and the men around him were vanquished, he would sigh with relief, yet sorrow.

"Xion, take me into the sky." Muttered Ty darkly. The feeling of death stung the rider's mind painfully. "You don't sound like yourself young one, what did you just do?" Asked the concerned Dragon. Eragon looked down to his hands, almost quivering with unease. "I felt their fear, I felt as If I had just died. And it wasn't just once. For every life I stole to refill my energy stores, I relived the experience of death. It's..horrible, the fear they felt." He threw his head to the side as he raised his right arm. More soldiers rushed in to strike, but they were too late. Xion was flying overhead, and swooped down, clutching Ty's arm in his talons. As the dragon gained altitude, The red rider would begin climbing. He advanced towards Xion's neck, then grabbed onto the many protruding neck spikes. Using his strength, he threw himself over to his saddle, landing off balanced. He struggled to regain his composition by grabbing onto the saddle firmly. "Are you feeling any better?" Xion asked, curiosity filling his words. Ty shook his head, throwing his free right hand to his forehead. "Yea..I just need to..find myself." He mumbled, the joys of flight slowly returning Ty to his previous self. Ty decided to cast away his well being, turning around in his saddle as he caught glimpse of yet 'ANOTHER' Rider. He cursed, now searching for the Golden Rider who was still high in the sky.

Xion delved deep into Ty's mind, agreeing with his plan. With a loud roar, the dragon took off into the sky, flapping his wings with an unnatural speed. Xion and Ty merged their minds completely, raising their mental barriers. "Alright, now.. once we get close enough, fly just above the other dragon. Be careful not to get to close, I don't want that rider thrusting any type of weaponry into your gullet." The dragon did as he was commanded, once he reached his position, he opened his large maw, a loud roar emitting from the Dragon's lungs. Xion quickly attempted to throw his tail into the left side of Lumen, in hopes of threatening the dragon. After the attempted assault on Lumen, the massive red dragon would spin in mid air. The dragon now flew upside down, Ty hanging by the grip of his left hand, his sword in his right. He was just a few feet above Fae, looking down to the golden rider, he shouted"Eka Ai Fricai un Shur'tugal!" [/b](I am a rider and a friend.) "Eitha.." (Go) "I don't want to hurt you!" Yelled Ty, still hanging. He kept his sword at the ready, just incase he needed to parry an attack. However, he knew that if he needed to parry an attack, he would end up falling from the saddle, and land on Lumen.

[Faervel Ningannel]

Faervel could no longer fight on the battle field no longer, weariness tore at his limbs and he could feel that Lumen ad gotten wounded during one of her attacks. The elf spotted the golden dragon, tearing at the heads of the enemy, blood dripping down from a long gash down her her neck. Both their armor was splattered with blood and mud and perhaps other substances he did not wish to think about.

The Rider turned quickly as he sensed a sword come whizzing toward. With elven speed, Faervel whipped around and blocked the sword before it could even hit home. Faervel was grateful for his natural grace and agility, for hi sword fighting skills were not the best of his race. He was a magician and scholar not a fighter. Perhaps he could just read poetry to the Empire soldiers and they could just be killed by that? It would be cleaner that's for sure, he thought to himself.

With a quick thrust, he managed to kill the man with a stab through neck. He hated the blood that oozed from the man, it reminded him so much of death. The elf felt guilt for all the lives he had taken so far. He was not a violent man, he was just doing his duty. As the man fell dead at is feet, Faervel sprinted toward his dragon. Jumping over bodies and running under the blades of fighting men. He wished he could do away with his armor so he could move more freely. As he ran he saw, a soldier slash Lumen's soft underbelly. Faervel could feel the blood run down his own body and the pain that she felt. He let out a howl of pain as she did.

The elf immediately went to his dragon's aid. Five men surrounded the wounded dragoness, and Faervel could not wait for them to attack him for him to be able to draw his weapons. He looked at the men and said simply, "Deyja."

The men fell dead around the dragon, who seemed to breath out a sigh of relief. Faervel ran his hands up the gash on his neck whispering the words of healing, as the skin laced it's self back together.

How are you faring? he asked her as he moved to the wound on her belly. Just seeing the wound filled him with the pain of his dragon.

Just peachy, the dragon said, rather sarcastically, Get on, I need a break! And you could too, I can feel your energy draining.

Faervel gracefully mounted on he back, as soon as he was settled the gold dragon soared into the shy. They flew higher and higher into the clouds. The elf was curious how come he no longer saw the Red Dragon and Rider. He had an irrational hope that they had disappeared, and they would not have to fight each other. Then came the roar that crushed his hopes.

Brace yourself, Lumen, here they come, he said his eyes narrowed,

I'm as braced as I'll ever be, she growled before releasing a roar of her own.

Both Riders ended up side by side. Faervel's hand immediately went to his sword, but his vows made it impossible for him to draw it. Lumen folded tipped her wing sand spun, avoiding the red Dragons' tail. She snapped her large white teeth at the dragon, before swinging her tail at him.

Suddenly, the red dragon spun and Faervel was surprised to find the other rider hanging upside down. The elf stared at the other rider wide eyed with surprise. Lumen let out a growl, but he soother her silently with her mind. The Empire Rider wanted to talk in peace, and peace they would have until it proved to be violent. Faervel had always been hopeful that he could eventually have a conflict end with peaceful means.

"Mor'ranr Shur'tugal (Peace Rider), I wish you no harm either," Faervel said with a bowed head.

Fae, What are you doing! They are traitors! Oath-breakers! Lumen screamed at him.

We must try non-violence before violence. I know you have no desire to hurt one of your own, he said to his dragon calmly. But he had a certain stern tone in his voice. He wanted her to know she should not argue.

If they try to hurt you, I will attack, the dragon said venomously, before going silent.

"I'm no fighter, my fellow Rider, I have no desire to fight. I am only doing what I must. Just like you. We are just unfortunate pons in a game we wish no part of," Faervel said, his hand leaving his sword showing that he was truly willing to talk in peace. Not that he could attack anyway, but there was much symbolism in his actions.

[Arwen of Gil'ead]

Zane sat a top Calen's back watching the battle go on before her. She smelt the death and blood, and her and Calen's blood lust was beginning to consume them. They were ready to fight, they were ready to be done with this war. But in the back of their minds, they knew that this was just another battle and there would be more to come. She and Calen had just arrived with the last few reinforcements of the Empire, and she could see that both sides could use a few more numbers. She didn't have to be anywhere near the battlefield to sense that their was more dragon riders than perhaps the King had expected. But for now they were evenly matched.The Bane of Men watched as Ty and Golden dragon seemed to hang in the sky. She raised an eyebrow, they didn't seem to be fighting and there was no time for peace agreements between the Riders. She had no desire to hurt other Riders, but she would. That was her duty. It was all just a means to an end.

Zane, there is an other rider! Calen said to Zane, lifting his head in the air, images of battle reflecting in his green eyes. With a white dragon that is almost 3x's my size.

The Green Rider had heard of the White Rider, she was one of the last living Rider's of Old. It was just her and Galbatorix that had lived before the Fall. "Kopa," Zane said, rather curious about the Old Rider. She looked upon the Rider at further distance, and saw she was a brilliant white haired slender elf, who fought like a liquid, no pauses in her fighting. Zane could tell she was well trained as a Rider, she could just see it. Her White Dragon was huge compared to the other dragons she had seen, she supposed a 100 years of growth or more really attributed to his size. Zane realeased the magic stare, and said to Calen, We have to fight them Calen. Ty is busy doing God knows what, The king I'm sure won't, Murtagh, the little whinner, won't. It's you and me. Alone. Against a fully trained Rider, and and elf no less. What do you say?

Well, I say lets fight! With that the green dragon released a loud and long roar before lifting himself off the ground and flying low in the sky.

Zane placed her helm on and drew her sword. She was ready for battle, she was absolutely ready. The pair arrived where the White Rider was fighting, she and her dragon were seperated and Zane figured it was only fair that she Calen would seperate as well. Before Calen could land, she jumped out of the saddle and landed with a light thud in front of the White Haired Elf. She watched through the corner of her eye as Calen flew and landed right in front of the White Dragon. She could help but frown at the size difference between the two.

Please, be careful Calen! she said to her dragon as she approached the other Rider.

The Same to you, my partner, he said, before lunging at the White Dragon.

As Calen, lunged, so did Zane, brandishing her weapon, hoping that she had not met her match.

[madge]

Ty looked down to Fae, his eyes absolute. "Pawns? No, we're not pawns. We have more power over our fate then any in this vast country. Why do you fight with the Varden? They're responsible for the destruction, and chaos that's been reigning down upon this land's people." Commented Ty, signs of frustration crossing his face. At this moment in time, he could sense the coming of a vast group. It had to be the empire's reinforcements. He closed his mind, searching for Zane. He thought he felt her conscious, gently brushing up against it. He felt comforted knowing that she was on the battlefield, but it also tore at him emotionally. He knew she would be okay, but there was always that distinct possibility that she could get hurt in the back of his head.

Before Ty could gather another thought, he would end up spotting Calen across the zone, charging a rather large dragon. He resumed his glance towards Fae, and despite the fact that the riders didn't want to oppose each other, they couldn't just turn a blind eye. "Please, leave. If you stay, I'll be forced to fight you. We can talk peace till we're blue in the fact, but I can't escape my fate as an Empire Rider, I stand to bring peace back to these lands. That's my responsibility as a rider."[/i] [/color]After Ty finished speaking, Xion would twist back around, His rider now falling firmly back into his saddle. Ty's left arm was a tad bit stiff, but that was to be expected. He gripped his bicep, trying to massage the pain away. Xion however, lowered himself to where he was level with Lumen, Ty awaiting the response of the golden rider. His sword was drawn, and his face stern. He couldn't keep allowing his emotions to take control. If it had been any other opposing rider, he would've been slashed down by now. Patience and Peace did not belong on the battlefield, and Ty was too stubborn to admit it.

[madge]

Murtagh looked around, observing the onslaught as Thorn flew across the lands. The soldiers underneath appeared to be mere ants in his gaze. He shifted his head, ignoring them for a few seconds. He needed to get a better feel for his environment. "Kopa.." He whispered, his voice dark. His eyes attuned themselves, thanks to the magic from the ancient language. He glanced around, spotting another Red Rider. He paused, curious. He had heard news of another Red Rider, but he hadn't had a chance to meet him. He soon noticed that the Red Rider was flying side by side with the Varden's Golden Dragon. He spat, frustrated. "Fool, does he not realize there's a war going on? There's no time for that here!" Around this time, a loud roar Billowed out from Thorn's large maw. The roar was intended on announcing Murtagh's arrival, The Empire's Lead Dragon Rider.

Soldiers below soon looked up, fear enveloping the men as they stood in place. Some threw down their weapons and attempted to run, while others just remained in place, pointing. Some even had the audacity to mention his name! It was now Thorn who spoke this time, his voice solemn, yet proud. His voice was heavy with wisdom and power. "They're mentioning your name down below, If we don't live up to the fear we're creating, then we'll be no more of use, as that silly Red Rider. " Spat Thorn, tilting his head as another large roar emitted from the Dragon's Jaws. "d**n Varden, You'd think they'd just go home. I'm sick of this fighting! Very well Thorn, descend." He replied, waving his hand towards the group of fearful men. "With pleasure.." commented Thorn, as he folded his wings inward, now gaining speed as he aimed himself towards the ground. The dragon cut through the air with extreme precision and speed. Only seconds later, were they twenty feet above the soldiers.

As the dragon opened his mouth, fire would spew forth, submerging the men below in a wave of heat and death. The smell from their roasted bodies filled the air, causing others to pause and look around with curiosity. "Today Varden, You will be defeated!" He yelled, Raising Zar'roc above his head as Thorn continued bathing the battlement in pure blood red fire. Murtagh laughed as the many magicians soon attempted to break his mind. He closed his eyes, focusing inward. With ease, he threw the mages back from his mind, stabbing at their own with immense power. He broke through three of the four mage's minds, crippling them instantly. The last mage however, fought tooth and nail to repel the mental invasion. The rider couldn't help chuckle at the mage's fear as he toyed around with him. "Thorn, sense this mage's location for me." The dragon agreed. After a few seconds of searching, "There, behind the two large groups to our east." Growled Thorn. Murtagh smiled darkly, and quickly had Thorn advance towards the mage's location. The sorcerer was too concerned with the mental battle, to even notice the massive red dragon approaching. Murtagh stopped just feet away from the magician, raised his palm, and uttered " Thorna" Just as the archers had fired at Murtagh. The arrows soon however, twisted in direction, and flew towards the Magician, piercing his body with ease. The screams of terror filled the air as Thorn kicked off in the air, gaining more altitude. For a second, Murtagh seemed bored. "Now, time to teach this 'Red Rider' A lesson In humility." commented Murtagh as he flew upwards, now gaining On Ty's location. After the massive dragon caught up, he would dive, in attempts of smacking into Xion. Thorn didn't bother continuing the attack however, it was merely a way to get Ty to un-focus on his mental barriers.

With precision, Murtagh closed his eyes, piercing Ty's mental walls and poured in an abundance of images, either related to death, horror, pain. "You have quite a treat awaiting you at the palace. The king will surely find out about this." Murtagh didn't enjoy being cruel to others, but he knew that the Varden Riders faught without mercy, and he wasn't willing to waste any of the empire's riders anytime soon.
He soon left the Red Rider to himself, and amassed in the center of the battle, fifty feet above the Varden's soldiers.

"BROTHER, It's time to come out and play! I grow bored without your presence!"

[Faervel Ningannel]

“I fight with the Varden because I wish for proper peace,” Faervel said fiercely, his hand now on the hilt of his sword.

He frustrated that the human rider had no concept of listening. The elf could attest for his own stubbornness but he couldn’t stand the stubbornness of others.

“ A peace that is not caused by force or fear. Do you know the history of your,” He paused and spat the next word, “King? Do you? I doubt you do, very few of your race does. I lost many of my race to your King.”

He felt Lumen’s mind brush up against his soothingly, yet in away that almost said, ‘I told you so.’ Now the elf understood his dragon’s feelings, she felt the desire to revenge the deaths of her own race, now he understood and felt the same way. Faervel watched as the red dragon moved, and soon the riders flew side by side. The red and the gold, symbolizing opposite sides of the color spectrum. One was stubborn strong minded, while the other was peaceful and calm. Faervel watched as the rider drew his sword, the elf knew that they were going to have to fight. It was inevitable.

“I will not leave this fight, for it is my duty to stand for peace.”There was another pause in the elf's speech, "If you would've lost someone dear to you to a mad man's revenge, you would be on a different side."

Memories of the death of Ashael filled his mind, the death of his love at the hands of the Forsworn in the Battle of Iliera. He immediately blocked the memories out of his mind, he couldn't let the sorrow consume him, he had to stay focused.

Faeverl! Murtagh!

The Golden dragon tucked her wings and dived away from the Red Dragon, as soon as Thorn rammed into the other rider. As they flew down through the air, the elf held his body close to Lumen’s neck. She spread her wings and leveled out, before acending into the sky once more. They stopped and faced Ty and Xion , a growl coming deep in Lumen’s throat. She knew that her Rider could not draw his sword until he was outwardly attacked, but the golden dragon couldn’t wait no longer. With a fierce roar, she released a mighty stream of fire toward the other rider.

[Aisling]

Aisling pulled her sword again out of another piece of armor, she was very grateful that her sword, Edoc’sil, was impervious to damage. If she had been using any other sword, it would’ve been completely destroyed by now. As the soldier fell, she took his remaining energy and gave it to Faeon, who was a few meters away, fighting of groups of soldiers at a time. The elf could tell a difference in the dragon’s strength already, as he released another belly full of fire. It was amazing how long he could sustain a flmae. Aisling remembered the days where he couldn’t even breathe fire, and now he could hold it for minutes at a time. The men around the white dragon were all burned to a crisp now. The Rider of Old couldn’t help but feel bad about how much damage she and Faeon seemed to be doing.

As she decapitated another soldier, Aisling and Faeon lifted their heads to attention to the sound of a dragon’s roar. With a closer look, the elf saw and armored woman atop a green dragon. She had heard about this female Empire rider from those in the Varden, apparently she was the second best trained after Murtagh. Aisling was surprised at how evenly matched Rider wise both side’s were now. And she thought she would be changing the tides.

We have company, Faeon, she said to her dragon.

We shall crush them, don’t you worry, Faeon’s deep voice growled in her head.

Aisling flipped her sword and stabbed it through a man behind, she didn’t even blink an eye. Soon the Empire Rider and dragon separated. The elf and human faced each other, weapons drawn. The dragons were in a similar stance a few meters off, growling at each other fiercely. Aisling didn’t even have time to think before the other rider lunged at her. The elf blocked her attack and sent a blow of her own before she started assaulting the other rider’s mind with her own.

Faeon and the green dragon met in combat, teeth snapping at each other. Faeon swung his tail at the young dragon, before tackling him with sheer supior size. The white dragon didn’t even understand why these hatchlings would bother trying to take him and his rider on.

[colm]

The Red Shadow perched on a rooftop, he smiled to himself, he was extremely glad his info had payed off. if the info had been wrong and he had tried to infiltrate Belatona on any other day, the likelihood of completing his heist would be close to zero. With the eyes of every man, woman, and child focused on the battle, a lone master thief in a red coat could infiltrate the keep no problem. Colm would need to wait for the perfect moment, his contact on the inside had told him of some splendid riches, treasures untold, and Colm would steal them all. From his perch he had the best view of the battle. Above him Dragons and their riders fought, below him soliders fought.

Colm looked longingly at the dragons, once he had wished to be a rider, longed for the power and the freedom, once he had been naive. Now he knew the Riders didn't have an easy life, now he knew that they had responsibility, which he didn't want. But even still the prestige, the idea of being a Rider, of flying on the back of a dragon exhilarated him, that would be a thrill worth remembering.

Jumping down from the roof, Colm drew Nángoröth and sprinted towards the keep. With the red and green rider's sword in hand, Colm would cut down any solider Varden or Imperial who tried to stop him from entering the Keep, and stealing the treasures within. Colm's arm slashed out, he flet the crunch of bone, as Nángoröth cut through the soft spot under the Imperial solider's arm and embedded itself in the bones of his shoulder. With another rapid movement, Colm cut a gash in the man's stomach and then he moved on. As Colm stared up at the keep, his eye was drawn to a small skylight, that would be his entrance. Sheathing Nángoröth, Colm began to scale the keep.

[Kavran]

From miles away, the sounds of battle were intense enough that Kavran and Malthus could hear the entire conflict. The roar of dragons, the mighty beating of wings, steel clashing with steel, the agonized screams of men falling as their life-blood seeped from their mortal wounds... It was a cacophony of sounds that the pair had not heard in over one hundred years. Living in the Spine made one privy to the goings-on between the two forces, certainly, but information was hardly equal to the madness and wanton slaughter that must have been occurring just beyond the walls of Belatona. Kavran, mounted atop his enormous, black, smoky dragon, narrowed his eyes and murmured under his breath in the ancient language, magnifying the range and penetration of his sight long enough that he could see the battle a little more closely.

"Other Riders, Malthus. Several of them, and their dragons, as well..." Kavran sounded displeased and irritated, his disposition souring for perhaps half of a second before he settled his mind back into the usual detached serenity.

"Extend not your thoughts into the field of battle, then. Do not allow them to assail you with mental magic. Ward us both and shield your mind, Kavran." Malthus's "voice" was deep and rumbled with power, though he spoke softly. Just like his Rider, the two even shared speech patterns.

"Of course." With that, the ancient Rider began to murmur and ward both his dragon and himself, shielding them from stray arrows and the like while guarding against magical attacks, as well. His armor had already been infused with magic so as to help ward off the incoming blows from all weaponry. The Dragon and Rider had had many, many years to consider the art of battle and how best to make effective use of resources, especially during the Dragon War over a century ago.

"My thanks." Malthus rumbled, the dark metal of his own fitted armor shifting along his terrible, black form. "Now... Shall we engage the Mad One? Or do we go after the others?"

"Keep high, my friend. Although the wards will guard you against the arrows of the fighters, the element of surprise could still prove invaluable. Besides, we are an unknown factor... Let us hope that Galbatorix has not anticipated our return." He narrowed his eyes and let the magnified gaze vanish, and set his mouth in a grim line. "Death to the Empire. Galbatorix has the position of advantage. Let us engage all who dare to oppose us."

Malthus nodded with approval and soared higher, his powerful wings buffeting the air beneath them even as they arrived at the field of battle several thousand feet above the ground. Kavran drew Freohr and felt the weapon hum slightly in his hands for a brief, flickering moment, eager to slate its desire. Then, the pair descended with a singular mind, diving closer to the field before quickly separating. Kavran leapt off of Malthus and landed on his feet with agile ease, and in one motion, turned and swept his terrible sword at the men wearing the colors of the Empire. Three men fell dead at the first swing, their heads rolling away from their lifeless bodies. His heel twisting to shift his form, he moved his gauntlet so fast that he deflected an arrow with the metal of his armored hand. The archer that had shot at him perked a brow and prepared to fire again, but Kavran simply reached out to him and clenched his fist, and the soldier fell with a mundane thump to the ground, his life-force wrested from him and restoring some of Kavran's own might.

Malthus landed at the same time his Rider did, but because of his size, managed to take out far more Imperial troops. Crushed to death beneath the massive, armored dragon, the soldiers did not know what to think at first. They started to charge, but Malthus was temperamental, and swatted his right forearm at the troops, his vicious talons cutting many of them into ribbons. Those behind him he swept aside with his horned tail, killing them just as quickly. The pair locked eyes and nodded, and began to advance toward the walls of Belatona, toward the dragon and his Rider hovering there. Kavran moved with an ethereal but deadly grace, swinging Freohr in wide arcs large enough to cut swathes of men down. All Imperial soldiers that stood in his path died quickly, either by being cut in twain or having their life-force pulled from them to invigorate Kavran and Malthus. The black dragon, similarly, warded his and his Rider's mind through the techniques taught to them in Ellesmera over a century prior.

"You can not hide behind these men, Galbatorix." said Kavran with cold anger burning through him. His expression stony and impossible to read, he cut down man after man after man, never once losing his stride for more than a fraction of a second. He never stopped moving, twisting and turning and swinging his sword about him in each direction, aware of each attack coming at him. "Your cowardice will be your undoing..."

[Rhaxta]

The glory of battle, the blood and sweat and stink of death in the air.
This was home to him, it truely was where he belonged. The deep brown of his eyes looked down upon the field, or rather just above. The snap of teeth, the sheer screetch of claw against scale, the hiss and spit of roaring dragon flames burning the air. That was a spectacle of destruction, the most beautiful representation he had ever seen. A strange smile passed over his lips, even as a small tear ran down his cheek - hidden with the moisture on his cheeks from observing above the clouds. His life partner turned her head sideways, her dark lid clicking as she winked at him.
'Are you ready?'
'Always'

With that, the black dragon released a devastatingly loud roar, echoing over the battlefield. Freki was only slightly older than Thorn, yet she was larger than him in length and wingspan- not necessarily in muscle. She was of course, helped along by Galbatorix's magic, and the fact she had come from a much larger egg, having much larger parents than either Thorn or Saphira. Her sharp scales usually gleamed a bright bottle green when in sunlight - appearing black only at night - yet Vulnar had thought it would be amusing to use his magic to make them the pitchest of blacks, so as to appear to be Shruikan. She certainly was not his size, yet his true expanse was not generally known amoung the lands. He was of 'see it to beleive it' proportions, and on a battlefield, a large black dragon was close enough to make some stop and pause.
Her roar echoed and sent out a shock of air, her voice amplified by Vulnar's magic. It was time.

From the South, from behind a small humock and crop of trees that had obscured them from sight, came his true men. His creations.

They were from the average soldier stock, only difference being they had showed particularly bloodthirsty tendancies in the battlefield. His actual work however, was the magic he had woven into them. He had enjoyed the tales he had been told of when they took to battle, and wanted some for himself. About 1000 of them, the largest number in one place that had been put into action by the Empire to date.

They certainly looked like normal soldiers, maybe even a bit mudsplattered and tired looking. Yet they felt no pain. A staggering wound that would take down even the hardiest normal soldier, only stopped these men temporarily. No shock or pain would put them into the dark. Decapitation, blood loss, being crushed, maybe. Save for a chosen few, a rather large portion of the group Vulnar considered his 'favorites' had wards of magic around them, protecting them from any who assault them with a weapon and most magics.
But doing any of those things in the battlefield was difficult, and the magic needed to circumvent the wards was fairly complicated for any who might wish to break through the gaps.. He smiled.
He was so proud.

With a wordless gesture of consent, he urged Freki forwards. She complied, tilting her wings backwards and stretching out her neck, gracefully curving into a steep dive down through the clouds.

Wisps of the clouds trailed out with them, leaving silver-grey tendrils like a cape from her wings and spines along her back. A burst of dark flame evaporated the cloak moments later, ripping the oxygen and moisture from the air, then replacing them with a trail of flame with streaks of grey threaded amoungst smokey black and flashes of acid green. Wings clipped to her sides, they fell toward the battlefield, alighting so they were still about 100 feet about the battle. There they circled, and Freki released a bellowing challenge of a roar at the metal-dark dragon that had recently arrived upon the field.

((Fancy a play, Kavran? x]))


~~~

Rhaxta was snarling like a cornered wolf, the large man with the hammer and shield still pushing against her small frame. He was difficult to outflank him just for his sheer size and her lack of. However, she was stilll quick.
She made to move back, yet her foot slipped beneath her and fell back- and howled as if in pain. The man was upon her instantly, yet Rhaxta pushed herself forward with the foot she had pretended to injure, throwing her shoulder into his armoured gut and swinging an arm, aiming to thrust the tip of her sword beneath his armpit.

A split second before contact, however, the mans eyes widened and his pupils slipped out of focus, rolling into the back of his head. He gave no resistance as Rhaxta's shoulder made contact just below his ribs. He flew backwards, Rhaxta being thrown over him as his limp form crumpled beneath her. Rhaxta twisted in the air, yet too late. She landed awkwardly, on the top of her back and nearly breaking her neck and rolling three times over, hands loosely over her head and face to protect her.

She gained a sore head, a few scratches on her uncovered hands and a deep scratch straight down over her right cheekbone. She grunted and untangled herself. The man she had been fighting, and all the other soldiers surrounding her, had dropped dead on the spot.
She lay low, seeing the man she had thought was Murtagh at first, standing at the centre.
As more soldiers made their way toward him, a blur of red streaked down from the skies and snatched his rider from the ground, bearing him away from the Varden warriors.

Rhaxta watched the red dragon soar off to intercept another rider, waiting for the ringing in her ears and the ache of her skull to abate.

At that moment, a great, crushing conciousness pressed up against her own, as if looking for weaker spots in her defenses. The sheer force of the attack staggered her, and in a panic she focused on the first strong thought or feeling that came. The burning fire in her chest flared up once more and her cheeks burned pink-red. The memory of thick stubble slick with blood, and the soft patches of bare skin pink with it. The flecks of black amoungst the grey that caught in the sun like spun silver. After only a moment, the aching-burning-pleasure mutated into sudden, murderous rage laced with unyeilding sorrow, drowning out everything else unexpectedly.

The intensity of the presense trying to break into her conciousness lessened until Rhaxta thought it had given up it's assault, yet she kept her defenses up.
Slowly gaining her feet, Rhaxta's eye was caught by a huge black-green tongue of flame erupting above her, the heat searing and light blinding even at this distance. She squinted, and behind the light cast by the fire was the shadow of a huge, black dragon diving towards the earth. Just as the recently emerged batallion of pain-blind soldiers connected with the side of the Varden ranks from the South.

~~

(Someone take up a Dwarf/Urgal and have fun with the painless soldiers! I don't mind you guys just taking a low-rank NPC for a ride(magician, soldier, of either side. Urgal, Dwarf, Werecat even? etc) Just take control and have a laugh, they can be expendible! Trust me, I'm going to. I will have a laugh with Nasuada/Jormundr and Vulnar/Galby giving you guys orders - vs others NPC's. The outcome of this battle doesn't really matter when it comes to the plot- you guys decide. Varden or Empire? Fight for it! )

[madge]

Ty turned his head from Fae, grief stricken. It was at this exact moment, that Thorn would end up crashing into Xion. The Red dragon roared with pain as he was thrown down by Thorn's massive talons. "Xion, are you o-" Ty tried to ask, but it was too late. His eyes widened as he felt Murtagh's presence forcing itself into his mind. By this time, Xion had balanced himself out, now flying straight. The red rider threw both hands to his head, trying to block out the multitude of images which were still flowing rapidly into his head. He yelled in agony, only to find himself falling from Xion's saddle. As he fell, he would offer his hand to Xion, his vision beginning to fail him.

"Ty!" Xion exclaimed, now diving down after his precious rider. However, words couldn't be heard, or understood. The only thing that the rider was aware of, were the many dark pictures which tainted his mind, his mind almost fully de-synthesized. Xion however had made his way to Ty, and with a quick motion, scooped Ty up in his mighty claws. Ty lay there for a few minutes, unable to properly think. When he awoke, the once bright, caring, smile had disappeared. It was replaced by a dark, almost angry expression. The red dragon could sense the difference in personality, and concern would soon follow. The rider made his way back up to the leather saddle, and took hold of his sword. His eyes hung low, and his expression was blank. "We're going to kill that Golden Rider Xion, fly towards him now." Shock overcame the Dragon, but he agreed.

(Xion's mind)

"His voice, it's grown so dark.. I didn't think Murtagh would be capable of breaking Ty's will. It seems he's lost all sense of his emotions, but what could this mean? Is this temporary, or will it remain for the rest of his life.." [/color][/i]The mighty dragon had retreated into his own mind, raising his mental barriers. These questions continued to flash before The Red dragon's bright emerald green eyes. The dragon didn't quite fully know if he liked the change or not. "Maybe he's better off this way.. Now we won't have to worry about his random emotional impulses. But.. he doesn't feel like the same man. Surely this is temporary.." [/b][/color]The dragon thought, now nearing Lumen's location.

As the pair advanced on Lumen and Fae, Ty would raise his sword, pointing the tip at Fae. He did the same with his left hand, his palm facing the back of the dragon as they approached from behind. "Brisingr!" Shouted the Rider, in attempts of setting the golden dragon's saddle on fire. "Xion, I want you to spit fire to our right." [/i]Ty stated, trying to throw Fae off guard. As fire spewed forth from Xion's mouth, The rider would send mental images to Xion, the images mainly revealing how the Dragon should flank the elf rider. "Brilliant!" [/i]The dragon roared, now flying to the left of Fae. Ty raised his sword, ready to attack. Now, If Fae were to continue to fly forward, Ty's magical attack would have had a great chance of hitting the dragon's saddle, or the golden rider who sat on the saddle. If he tried to dodge the attack by going right, he would be covered in Xion's bright red flames. And If he tried to avoid the attacks by flying to his left, Ty would be waiting, sword drawn ready to attack.

Ty's eyes were now a dull blue, his face somewhat pale. Even his voice sounded different. His words would sound cruel and heartless, and his attacks would come without mercy. Xion could sense Ty's inner self still in-tact, but trying to get that side of him out would be near impossible.

[Baduk]

Baduk heard the bells of the city tolling around him from his study in the keep, there he kept a large book of spells, however he had to admit it was nothing in comparison to the books of Uru'Baen. Baduk, annoyed, slammed the book shut he donned the armour that he kept on a wooden mannequin, dark red plated body armour, with black trimmings, he had no helm, he was not worried about his head, he worried for his chest and most importantly his heart. He left his sword where it was, but conjured up a mental image of the place where it was held so he could summon it if he required it. Baduk stepped out from the keep, heading towards the stables, although the walls of Belatona were smaller and weaker than the walls of Uru'Baen, especially those of the overhang that he normally guarded, there was still plenty of room even to swing a large pole-axe, Baduk saw the place on the main walls that was seeing a lot of action, many men were being shot down quickly. Baduk calmly closed his eyes and thought of the dictionary in his head that was full of the ancient language, he thought clearly of the term Be transported and imagined the wall, within moments he felt the rushing of air around him and then the slick brickwork of the wall beneath his feet, slick already with the blood of soldiers.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND YOU FOOLS, DO NOT HESITATE TO THROW THE BODIES OFF THE WALLS, THEY WILL ONLY IMPEDE YOUR PROGRESS!" Baduk exclaimed as he grabbed the back of a corpse that was lying sprawled across the battlements of the wall, slumped between the merlons of the battlements, with an arrow protruding from the man's forehead, he pushed the man over the edge of the crenel and waited for the resounding thump and crunch, "NOW HOLD YOUR GROUND AND DO NOT LET A SINGLE MEMBER OF THE VARDEN SWINE BREACH THESE WALLS, OR YOU WILL FOLLOW HIM!" Baduk could already feel the blood lust wafting over him. He stormed across the wall to the balistae and catapults that were spaced at regular intervals along it, as he passed each one he spoke to their operators, "If the Varden make it onto these walls, you will destroy these machines, for if the Varden capture them, they will turn them against us, you will lay down your lives if you have to, to make sure you accomplish this task." Baduk was a ruthless commander, he would not take cowardice, if a man was injured he would make him fight to his last breath, without even offering to heal the wound such expels of energy were stupidity in the midst of battle.

Baduk allowed himself a glance around, at the battlefield, the sky, and most importantly the city, it was then he noticed the weakness of the gates, they had not yet been barred. "You three!" Baduk pointed to three swordsmen who were running around like headless chickens waiting for orders, "Go and find another 20 men, and bar those gates. We need them sealed immediately."[/color] With that Baduk turned back to the battle at hand and looked out over the battlefield, he saw the encroaching mass of the Varden's tiring army and raised both his hands, he let his energy surge through him, a tingling feeling forming in his palms and fingertips, "KVEYKVA!" Suddenly his hands burst into light as two bolts of lightning struck the field below, scorching the earth and killing several lines of the Varden's army, followed by the loud rumble of thunder after the bursts of lightning.

He pulled his arm back like drawing an arrow in a bow, then pushed his arm forward with a loud yell of "Waíse togira!" Suddenly his hand erupted in purple light, shooting forward into the Varden, suddenly many men fell over screaming and writhing, having been crippled their legs either broke, or their arms, or sometimes their entire bodies. Baduk uttered an insane laugh as he saw the men fall, trying to keep moving but also trying to move out of the way of their charging allies to prevent themselves being crushed.

Waiting for something significant to happen, Baduk stood as he watched the Varden move forward, he wanted them upon the walls, then he could unleash his sword fighting prowess.