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Post by Zilo on Jan 7, 2012 1:25:45 GMT -5
Stanidng there and seeing the woman unmoved he decided it would be best to leave her there. He had ordered the men not to attack the woman and they had listened. Suddenly something from behind him caught his attention. There was a large flash and then s small tremor from where he had left the Rider and his Master. Running through the bodies of the dead and seeing the flames shoot out. He stopped by a small cat that he had seen earlier that was wandering the battlefield. Cursing to himself he saw a man standing next to her after missing a strike. These two where taking on a Rider of all things.
Not that it bothered him too much. But they where in danger now, and he didn’t want to lose anymore men on his side. Stepping directly in front of both of them, he swung his giant axe around the flames. Brushing them off the side of the axes blade catching them, slamming the end of his axe straight into the ground to protect the small werecat from damage and standing in front of the guy, he felt fire brush against him that still flew by. Burning his right arm and closing the wound the female dragon rider had caused to him. When the smoke from the small tremor of an earthquake and the fire steam disappeared. There stood Zilo with his axe blade on the ground breathing heavily.
He was wounded more than most on the field. He had been fighting Nedra before and then he had a run in with another Empirial soldier. And then these two got into danger. He was cut and bloodied all over. Now with burn marks on his skin, in a voice that seemed like a growl he spoke to both of them. “What the hell where you two thinking, do you not know…That no matter how tired a Rider is, they’re still as strong as an elf that hasn’t been fighting for long.” He said breathing heavily. He was taking some damage. He was standing at his full height of six foot five around the two of them. His axe as a startling height of five foot eleven, only five inches shorter than he was. Yet he was using the might axe with one hand.
Turning to look at Nedra he smiled. “Like I said I have no bout with you rider. Go now, regain your strength, discover how to change your true name, you mustn’t believe that galbatrox. If you can believe in that then there is a chance that you will change.” He said and turning towards the new warrior he hadn’t seen before and the werecat he smiled. “That flame hurts…Are you two ok?” He said picking up his axe and resting it on his shoulder. Revealing in front of the werecat a giant field that was burned deep into the ground through the soil, and his blade stained black and some of the metal shatter at the heat of impact.
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Merril
Soldier
The Hum of Your Valved Voice
Posts: 33
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Post by Merril on Jan 7, 2012 5:19:08 GMT -5
Nar Ahrun watched as the bulk of the group moved on, and as the female Elf lingered. Before he knew it, another Elf had arrived. The grey-skinned Urgal sniffed at the air with his massive nostrils. He hated Elves almost as much as he hated humans.
"May I ask, leaders of Varden soldiers, what is going on here? This is open disrespect against the dragons and their riders, so why is this happening? "
Ahrun turned to face the newest arrival. Such an intrusion from an unrecognized person did not strike him well.
"No...you may not ask..."
His words were firm and held a tone of finality. Merril did not like the way things were turning out here. Hyperion was still dangerous until properly confined and neutralized. The three rams before her raised the flats of their weapons to press her back. Immediately, she sheathed her weapon and raised her hands in a gesture of friendship.
"Your honor is great indeed to have captured such a foe, great Nar..."
Ahrun's yellow stare turned to Merril, and he grunted in displeasure. He recognized neither of these Elves, but knew the Elves to be in league with the Varden. He reasoned as to why they would interfere. It took him slightly longer than he would have admitted to get to the conclusion. However, he arrived there before Merril spoke again.
"You will hold the Rider with your sorcery, Elf..."
It was more of a command than anything else. Nar Ahrun knew that he had to maintain the upper hand, and Merril felt the force of his words...at least, she understood the necessity of them. These Urgals were protected from the worst of her magics, and a fight with the 27 them would not be in her best interest. She nodded and moved forward as the Urgals in front of her parted.
"I will aid you in this, great Nar."
As the She-Elf set to subduing the fallen rider, Ahrun turned his attention back to the male. He expended his chest and lowered his head as a sign of threatened violence.
"What makes this one linger?"
Ahrun's voice was more of a growl than true speech, and his Urgals responded with a decidedly aggressive change in posture.
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Post by Kathena on Jan 7, 2012 9:56:48 GMT -5
Silis smiled at Zilo and nodded her head. She was fine. For now. She had the longing to join the fight, for she was not very kind in cat form. The large black cat glanced up at Zilo with pity in her eyes.
"Mrreowww," she complained staring at him sadly. She wanted to fight him. She didn't care if he was an elf. She spent most of her short life sparring with elves. Just get your jaw around their necks and they will give up., usually. Unless they know magic, then it is much harder to bring the down... Silis looked back up at Zilo and dragged her paw accross the cobblestone, making her claws screech as they made contact. Looking down at the ground, she let a pleading meow out, hoping he would let them continue to fight, and hopefully help them. Even if this elf had his dragon's strength, the dragon itself is not really in the battle. The three of us can make him flee if we work for it. And if Levonla helps there would be no doubt that we could win. She thought, flicking her sleek black tail in anger at the rider. She glanced at him with her emerald eyes when she realized he was on the ground. Ha! Silis thought with amusment. A small purr rose deep in her troat, but she quickly stopped it.
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The blonde soldier froze as he felt Amanes break into his mind. "What are you doing?" He whisered in panic. "Cut it out! Stop it!" He commanded he, but she wouldn't back out now. She wanted to see what he had been through. And what made him wish to join the Empire...
((Sorry about the short reply, I am in a hurry.))
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Post by cicymyst on Jan 7, 2012 12:13:27 GMT -5
Cicymyst wrenched the rwin swords from the rider's hands, sending the blades sailing through the air. Three things happened next that caught him slightly off guard. Cicymyst heard the rider chanting something in the ancient language, and instict took over. He turned about violently, whipping his blade behind him. He felt the sword vrbrate as it struck the rider somewhere, he cared not where. Next he dived as far as he could from the rider and his magic, coming out in a smooth roll. The next two events happened simultaneously: As Cicymyst dived, a rider appeared carrying a blood-stained axe. The second Cicymyst began his maneuver a powerful force of two dragons assaulted his mind. He kept the image of his pendant in his mind, implanting nearly impenetrable defenses. He surrounded the mental probes and vanquished them, unaware of the fire in front of him. He grimaced as he struck back with reluctance. Not wishing to harm the dragons. He heard the saviour rider inquire as to his health. He was able to mumble "Mind... Dragons... Help..."
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Post by Kathena on Jan 7, 2012 17:01:06 GMT -5
Silis's eyes widened as she heard Cicymyst's mumble and she felt a deep panic grow inside her. What can I do? She asked herself, glancing around franticly. I guess if I can hurt the Rider badly enough the dragons would be so mad they would try to attack me instead... I have dealt with that in my own mind before and I can do it again. She decided flicking her tail once more. Then she glanced at Zilo pleadly. If he could help her this would go much faster, and maybe no one would get too badly hurt awhile doing it.
The large black cat let out a small cry to Zilo, as if asking him to help. She then turned her bright emerald gaze to Emiryal. I can do this. His dragon isn't even helping him if the words Cicymyst spoke were true. She told herself, flexing her long, silver claws. Her panic overwhelmed her. She had seen plenty of soldiers and Varden warriors die, but that had not ment anything to her. Only the few she had talked to hurt her. She hated seeing someone she had once talked to die. It always reminded her of her mother and her adopted mother, and she couldn't bare to watch anything like that. She hated her allies blood being spilled.
Hoping Zilo would soon help her, she charged at Emiryal. Her goal was to just make him swing his sword at her, for now. Then maybe she could jump on one of the twin blades in order to claw him. She was eager to rake her claws down the enemy Rider's face, but that was very unlikely to happen. All she did was dart towards him, prepared to dodge out of the way of an incoming sword.
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Interesting. The soldier that Amanes was mentally attacking had joined the Empire because he was born to a man who had supported the Empire. Who in there right mind would do that? she asked herself.
"Oh, I am sorry that you felt forced to join the Empire," Amanes whispered to him. "Your father would have loved you either way." At this, the man who was frozen in fear, got a better grip on his sword and growled,
"But he would have never been proud of me."
"Yes he would have! You are his son!" Amanes protested, slowly walking closer to the man as if not to alarm him. Then so the man didn't get distracted she put her hands, which held her sword, behind her back.
"How do you know? You don't know the stubborn old man," the blonde soldier said angerily.
"Who, I just do because...." She would have tried to finish, but there was no point. As she had begun to reply her slowly brought her sword out from behind her back and as she said because, she made her moments more swiftly and drove the blade into his heart. The soldier tried to reply, but his face grew stiff, and he fell to the ground when Amanes pulled her sword out of his chest.
"She killed him!" The other three protested and began to run towards her.
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 7, 2012 22:54:11 GMT -5
Emiryal stayed where he was kneeling on the ground trembling from the effort the spell had taken. He just shook his head at Zilo's words. He'd never be free from the Empire. And it was unlikely his true name would change. Emiryal had lost hope of that possibility long ago.
Isikal and Firern continued to assault Cicymyst's mind and tried to shatter the image of the pendant. Isikal was about to put all her attention and effort into the attack. She was relentless in the attack and never let up for even a second. Firern; however, was trying to fight Levonla's dragon at the same time which made him unable to put full effort into the attack.
Emiryal didn't make any move to defend himself as Sills charged him. He didn't have the strength to raise a sword against her right now. His two swords lay near him now, due to the spell he had cast to return them. He reached out quickly and touched the black crystal in the hilt of Domia and felt the surge of energy rush into him, replenishing some of his strength. He'd nearly forgotten about the energy he had stored there until now.
For a moment he wanted to flee, to be away from all of the destruction. How could the Varden possibly win though. Even if they won here that would not stop his master, no one could. Then he looked up a Sills who was upon him now with a calm unconcerned look. "Jierda," he whispered and felt the surge of energy. The spell was intended to break one of Sills' legs.
He knew once the energy in his crystal ran out he'd be vunerable. At the first chance he'd have to leave. He wasn't all that upset about it either. Without him and Firern there the Varden would have one less Empire Rider to deal with, and might have a chance. Well at least in the battle but not in the war. |
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Post by Kathena on Jan 7, 2012 23:49:34 GMT -5
Silis was slightly shocked when Emiryal stood up once more. He was too weak to fight her before, he must have regained his strength or used something. She hissed, looking fearless although dread filled up in side of her. The large black cat was about to attack until she heard something terrible. She heard the Rider talk in the Ancient Language. She had spent most of her life with elves, and they had taught her more then she wished to know. She tried to protest, but she didn't have anytime to.
Suddenly, she felt pain explode in her leg as her bones shattered. She let out a bloodcurdling yowl in pain and fell to unto her side. She quickly glanced at her leg to see somthing that didn't surprise her, but trouble her greatly. Her upper right leg was fine, but in the middle of her leg her bone was snapped forward, making it impossible to walk on.
She let out a whimper in pain and self-pity before glancing over to Cicymyst. His mind was being attacked by dragons, and he wasn't down on the ground in pain, but he would be soon. I can still get his dragon to focus his strength on me. My leg is broken and I am fighting an elven rider. I have no chance in living if I do this alone. I might even faint, but I will not die and I can do this. I can. She encouraged herself. If the short black fur on her didn't cover her leg, she would have a huge bruise.
Her leg throbbed in pain that made her cry out. Silis Blackwalker stared at Emiryal with her sharp emerald eyees in fear, but she she continued to cheer for herself her gaze hardened into a glare. Then she glanced down at her leg once more. Then the large black cat began to stand up, only slightly using her broken leg for blance. Then she lifted her leg so it didn't touch the ground, and continued to glare to Emiryal.
"Mrreow!" She hissed weakly. It wasn't a bad hiss, but she didn't do well hiding her pain. It doesn't matter how weak he thinks I am. She thought to herself. It only matters that I can find a way. Somehow. Besides, even if I have flee the elf spellcasters can still fix my leg. Then she snarled at Emiryal and flexed her claws for the millionth time that day, but not as self-confident then before.
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Post by cicymyst on Jan 8, 2012 0:35:11 GMT -5
Cicymyst struggled, focusing the image of his pendant and magnifying it. He vaugely heard the yowl of Silis as she leapt towards Emirayal. He also heard the muffled spell cast by the rider. He grimaced in fury, instinctively drawing the throwing dagger tucked up his gauntlet. He planned his throw in in instant, unleashing the blade as he pushed the dragons' minds back... Barely. Cicymyst sank to his knees, renewing his counter assault at his assailants. He concentrated on the pendant and driving his probes at his foes. He would bot be defeated so easily! He had not spent his 17 brief years training with vengeance for nothing. He clenched his fists as he pushed even harder. He would not be bested! He then broke a portion of his probe off and sent it spiraling toward one of the dragon's barriers, hoping to catch it off guard. His bodily safety he trusted, for the most part, to Silis and the Varden's rider.
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 8, 2012 2:01:08 GMT -5
Emiryal wished he hadn't had to break her leg to stop her. He'd seen and done enough harm already, but he had to defend himself. He'd never met a werecat but certainly he had heard of them.
He re-sheathed his sword Domia but kept the other twin blade in his right hand. He held out his left hand with the mark of the gwenyn insignia on his palm. The gesture was a threat and a show of power. If Sills came at him again he'd break her her three remaining good legs. He made no move against Sills but simply stood his ground. At any sign of her moving in to attack again he'd cast the spell again.
This wasn't the first time he'd broken bones with a spell. No, he'd done it before but usually it was to torture a reluctant prisoner of the Empire. However, it had it's uses in battle too.
When Cicymyst's dagger unexpectedly flew at him, Emiryal flinched but the dagger stopped a foot from him and fall harmlessly to the ground, deflected by his wards.
Isikal resisted Cicymyst's attacks with ease. Firern was less experienced in mental combat though and he was fighting Levonla's dragon which didn't help. The unexpected mental probe broke his mental barrier. He was enraged and angered by it. His thoughts and memories were not many though, he was only 6 months old after all. His memories were dark, filled with fear, pain and hate.
Isikal was more experienced in mental combat. She had been one of the dragons in the golden age of the Riders and had centuries of experience. She felt Firern break since they fought as one. She quickly moved to defend Firern and pushed Cicymyst out. And in that moment that Firern's mind was once more closed she threw her attack at Cicymyst, hoping Firern's mistake might prove useful and distract Cicymyst.
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Post by Kathena on Jan 8, 2012 11:48:51 GMT -5
As Silis painfully stood on three legs she watched Emiryal. If he breaks even one more of my legs I won't be able to walk at all. She realized. The large black cat star at his the twin blade the was unsheathed. It seemed painful just to look at. Well if I can't use my claws I can always use my teeth. My teeth are very sharp, and if I could just get it on his leg and bite down... I don't know what will happen, but it'll sure be pay back. Even if he can hurt me from his leg I can bite down harder... Who knows... It might work. She thought to herself. Her plans seemed to get dumber by the second, but something had to work.
Her hind leg still throbbed as she stared at Emiryal, but she had grown slightly use to it now. She planned to get herself wounded even more, but she had a slight doubt that she could find a spellcaster to fix it. It must be easier to deal with in humanoid form... Right? She asked herself. The dread was filling her up now, making her stomach tense. But the pain was worse to her, or she wished it was anyway.
She glanced back at Cicymyst. He had tried to throw the dagger. That had to mean it was getting better, right? Maybe he blocked it out or the Rider's dragon stopped mentally fighting him. The dragon did seem to be busy fighting Levonla's dragon... Wait, if Emiryal and his dragon weren't doing it... Then who was? Glancing over at Emily, she thought, No, not her. And there is no other Empire rider anywhere near them... That made even more dread fill her. What if that Rider had one of the dead dragon heart of hearts? Most the Empire riders were given one, but a trainee rider? There was nothing she could do about it, but that ment that they didn't have a great chance againest the rider. The Eldunari could easily turn on her if Cicymyst collapsed...
Then she stared at Emiryal with her sharp emerald eyes. She glared right at his eyes staring into them as if the bother him somehow, but that was not her intention. Then she blinked her eyes and meowed in confusion as if to ask, 'Why are you doing this?' He probably knew he could stop fighting. He could simply turn on the evil king... Couldn't he? I mean, an oath can't be that binding... The King himself has broken thousands of vows... But she didn't know. She had never been forced into anything before, for no one wants a werecat bond to them. They are too loyal to themselves to follow someone human's orders...
Silis didn't want to wait anymore. The longer she waited, the more of a chance she had of being killed. If she was going to die she was going to do it fighting. But not today. She thought. I wouldn't die today. She looked away from his eyes and darted to his left leg. Once she got there, she wasted no time in trying to get her jaw around his leg. She thought it would be a struggle, but she just quickly got her jaw around his leg and threatened to bite down on it, but she didn't. Her teeth weren't even touching his leg, they were just holding a tight grip around it. If she could keep this up, she wouldn't have to use her broken leg. It was easy to reach her though, and she was weak enough where it would be a struggle to hold on once he started fighting.
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Post by cicymyst on Jan 8, 2012 12:03:37 GMT -5
Cicymyst triumphantly entered one of the dragons' minds. He was always somewhat cautious, some even called him paranoid, and he felt sorry for the dragon. It was only six months old, but had the darkest and saddest memories and existence he had ever seen. He quickly, yet cautiously, filled the expanses of the alien mind, attempting to force his will, however reluctantly, upon the dragon. He had little time, however, as the other dragon felt its allyfall, and redirected its attacks toward pushing Cicymyst out. The half-elf would not leave without a fight, though. He launched several probes toward the aggressor, nudging the caprive dragon into a steep nosediveas he did so. He hoped that this would help the dragon that he had gleaned from the captive was fighting him. It would take some time before that dragon would be able to mentally confront him again, so Cicymyst turned his entire mental arsenal upon the ancient dragon's mind. He threw probe after probe, sideways, upside down, corkscrewing, diagonally, he threw some in groups, some alone in wacky directions. He would not give up, and he had yet to reveal his true mental prowess. The pendant remained unbroken in his mind, heralding a unique steadfastness.
He heard the dagger hit the ground, muffling receding. He decided to stand back up, while his mind was only fighting one foe. Cicymyst picked up his sword, a snarl etched deep into his face. He glared at the rider, who had obviously broken one of Silis' legs. "Ha!" he boldly chuckled, "I have entered the mind of your dragon, and the other will fall. Is this the power of a dragon and rider? Is this what Galbatorix calls the heirs of the Forsworn?" he reused his sword and strode over to the rider, point aimed at his left eye. "If this is, then we shall outlast you. I have gleaned that you do not follow the Tyrant out of your own free will. I ask you to flee, to regain your strength and, even as this rider has beseeched of you, change your true name. If not, you shall fall." Cicymyst knew he was talking big, and that this would be a tough fight, but he had to give Silis an opening. He waited for the reply of the rider, eyes boldly defying him, and then raised his sword skyward, and charged the man again, this time making sure the rider could not dodge him.
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Alanoth
Soldier
A curious reader and writer...
Posts: 34
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Post by Alanoth on Jan 9, 2012 19:42:11 GMT -5
Alanoth watched the events unfold, and grew steadily more frustrated as he was ignored. How the Urgal had identified him as an elf was anyone's guess, Alanoth still had his hood up. Perhaps it was the Urgal's sense of smell, or maybe something that Alanoth did that was characteristic of an elf. Whatever it was, Alanoth made sure to remind himself to look into it another time when things weren't so hostile.
The immediate concern, was making sure that these beasts didn't desecrate such a marvelous and tragically dead dragon. To show his own aggression and willingness to make a point to the Urgals, Alanoth partially slid his short swords out, then put a hand to the hilt of the long sword on his back as he began to speak a retort backed up by slight magical influence. This wasn't guaranteed to work, but it was Alanoth's best scapegoat under the circumstances.
"This one," Alanoth replied firmly and in a decidedly angry tone, "stays, because he is still waiting for an answer. I have seen many Urgals in the time I've been alive, Nar Ahrun, but only once have I ever seen one so arrogant and prideful as you. Now, I suggest you stop this immediately, let the elf take her prisoner, and return to the actual battle before something really nasty happens to you."
The old half elf was positive that they would either ignore his words, or be too stupid to understand their meaning. After all, Urgals were savage beasts--always had been--with their only intelligence being devoted to fighting and killing one another or other beings. So, to make sure they got his message in a means they would understand, Alanoth casually drew his ancient two-handed elven blade--an heirloom from his long deceased mother--and held it propped over his shoulders as he spoke again in closing ,for the moment.
"Have you ever seen the insides of an Urgal? Well, I have, and it isn't something that anyone would want to see on a daily basis, even you lot. I've seen dragons who still flew free of Galbatorix, even before his time, tear apart their enemies. I've even helped them do it, so I think the corpse of one deserves your respect, not your trophy claiming."
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 9, 2012 20:53:44 GMT -5
Emiryal watched Sills, ready for her to resume her attack. Her expression more or less asked what she had thought. He felt no need to answer her though. The simple answer was obvious to them both or at least Sills could probably guess at it. He was bound to the Empire by oath. The more complicated answer was something he didn't want to discuss, it pained him to speak of it.His attention was diverted when Isikal warned him about Firern's mind being broken into. It was a quick though because Isikal was busy fighting mentally still. The news enraged Emiryal.
Firern meant everything to him, and as Cicymist probably knew from Firern's mind. The worst thing in Emiryal's mind was for someone to harm Firern, and this qualified. The Empire had harmed Firern, he hated them for it but now to have Cicymist, a Varden sympathizer, do something like this...
The Varden...they were no better than the Empire. He hated the Empire and now he hated the Varden. This wasn't something he'd forget. His expression was of rage. "I know," he said to Cicymyst with a venomous look. "I don't think you can defeat her. Her name is Isikal, she is a dragon who lived in the golden age of Riders. You cannot hope to outmatch one as she."
He didn't move as Cicymist approached and held him at sword point. "Heir of the forsworn?" he repeated. "There are few who can claim that title now. And it's not a title given to just any. You have yet to see what that title even means. I have more power at my command than you could even dream of," he said threateningly.
"I do not deny that I do not serve the Empire willingly, but if you gleaned that, then you will also know I will not flee and I cannot defy the Empire. My orders are to defend Belatona and to show no mercy. But you have given me another reason."
"Cicymist, Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal. Ono weohnata deyja wiol skada eom Firern!" (Cicymist, Upon my word as a Rider. You will die for doing harm to Firern!) he shouted in the ancient language. Cicymist was his sworn enemy now. It was a promise and one he intended to keep. For once his oath to the Empire wouldn't interfere.
He barely noticed Sills now. He wanted nothing more than to strike down Cicymist. "Jierda kalvis," he quickly muttered. The spell was to finish what he'd started and break her three remaining legs. With her out of the way he'd be able to focus on Cicymist.
As Cicymist charged him, he stood unmoving. The hate in his eyes for Cicymist was unmistakeable. He lifted his left hand to direct the magic and shouted "Eldrvarya haina." With his will he shaped shaped the spell to painfully burn Cicymist from the inside out.He felt the rush of energy from the spell. If he could distract Cicymist with pain it might be enough to at least free Firern.
He had considered using one of the twelve death spells to kill Cicymist on the spot. But he didn't. The influence of the Empire had corrupted him more than he would admit it had; he wanted Cicymist to die painfully.
Cicymist's sword stopped a few inches from Emiryal. His wards had stopped the blade in mid air just before any harm could be done. With one quick motion he brought Domia down upon Cicymist's sword trying to shatter the blade. His sword was a rider's blade and as such a common metal sword wouldn't stand a chance if hit directly.
Cicymist's attacks on Isikal failed. She seemed to either avoid them with ease or let them hit her defenses like rain on glass. She was experienced in mental combat and wouldn't make the same mistake as a hatchling would, like Firern. No matter how Cicymist attacked her she wouldn't break. "Not bad for a hatchling little twoleg, but not good enough," she growled at him. Her voice was like rain on a warm spring day.
She threw herself at Cicymist will all her strength of will. Her mental probes were aimed at the image of the pendent, each probe carried a different form of attack. One was emotion of loosing the pendent. While another was pure force. While others were even more different. But each was was designed to try and shatter the image. She sent volly after unrelenting volly at Cicymist's mind. Unlike Cicymist's random attacks, Isikal's attacks were focused and direct. Random attacks might work on a weaker foe but it reduced the effectiveness of the attack.
Firern fought and resisted for what good it would do. But once his mind was broken it was harder to fight, his will was being smothered. He wanted to cry out for Emiryal's help but help but he couldn't. Firern felt cornered and scared. When Cicymyst's attack turned on Isikal he tried to attack with what will was still his.
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Post by Ozig on Jan 9, 2012 22:41:15 GMT -5
OOC: Just putting Ozig on the Map and pushing the main battle forward...
IC: It had been a long day of fighting for Ozig and the warriors of Du Beorngar, a group of berserkers of which he was the leader. They were established as a special unit in the Varden Army. The group consisted of his three sons, his two living brothers, a Dwarf and a Werecat. Ozig refused to have any Urgals or Kull in his unit, for he still held a stark hatred for their kind. On this day, Nasuada had sent a small detachment of varden foot soldiers, an elf, and two human spellweavers to accompany Du Beorborn, for they would be the tip of the spear for the Battle of Belatona, and they would be the target of many Imperial magic users. Ozig and Du Beorngar were forced to undergo rigorous training against mental invasion for this battle. They were a valuable asset to the Varden, each of the eight person unit taking down twenty men or more in a battle.
Ozig was a fearsome sight to be had on this day. He was garbed in a layered leather breastplate with shoulderpads and leg armor of the same make. Over his armor he wore his bearskin cloak. He wore savage looking bracer-gloves of cougarskin with the claws still on them. His heavy snakeskin boots thudded with every step, and his now legendary foxhide hat sat atop his head in place of a leather helm. Covered in all of his necklaces bearing trophies from beasts and battles alike, and drenched in the blood of imperial soldiers, Ozig's appearance was enough to strike concern in the hearts of the most seasoned warriors. He brought his club down on a felled man's skull, squashing it like a pumpkin, brains and blood and skull fragments splattering in all directions. The sounds of battle were as fresh as ever but a break in fighting momentarily allowed Ozig to examine his surroundings. Du Beorngar had managed to carve a chunk into the empire's line, the rest of the line holding on both flanks. As always, his companions were within earshot, some fighting and some finishing off their foes. Ozig realized that the whole of the varden force and their escort unit were behind them.
A red-clad imperial soldier roared and lunged at Ozig with his spear. Unfocused, Ozig spun around and barely dodged it in time, the spearhead cutting a semi-deep wound from his ear to the base of his neck. Nothing serious. Ozig grabbed the man by his chestpeice and headbutted him hard. They both saw stars, but Ozig recovered much quicker. He picked up the man's spear and ran it through his stomach. The man dropped to his knees and Ozig smashed him full force with his club, oddly enough finding himself laughing heartily aloud as he did it. Perhaps he was growing insane like his son Simpsov. Ozig looked to his left and saw him, half naked, covered in purple and white war paint, strangling a man to death and screaming in his face like a madman. Ozig saw the opening in the Empire's line, and realized that the was the front-most man for the Varden. Arrows began to thud into the ground around him as archers on either side of a hole in the wall aimed for him. Ozig stepped back a few steps, picked up an imperial soldier's shield and blocked himself from a few incoming missiles. He got closer to the Varden line, who was fininshing off the remainder of the imperial wave, another of which was amassing on the other side of the wall. Ozig raised his club. He felt the blood from the spear wound flow down his shoulder.
"BEARS! BEARS! TO ME! TO ME!"
The members of Du Beorngar, bloodied and exhausted, jogged over to him, as they jogged, the Varden soldiers followed them. Arrows continued to rain but they missed Ozig as he stood in the open, rallying the troops. A stray warrior for the empire made a charge at Ozig and he threw the shield like a Frisbee into the man's neck, shattering his windpipe. He disregarded attempts at his mind by magicians and falling arrows as he called his men to him.
"MEN OF THE VARDEN, FREE MEN, BE BEARS NOW, BE BEARS NOW! CHAAAARGE!"
Ozig turned, followed in a wedge formation by Du Beorngar and the rest of the varden, and ran as fast as his weary wounded legs would take him to the opening in the wall of Belatona. A block of Imperial troops charged with equal ferocity at them. The two forces clashed atop a mound of rubble where the wall fell. Ozig was met by a very athletic warrior jumping almost over him and tackling him at the chest, sending both tumbling down the mound, their bodies smashing into armored legs and dead bodies on the way down. The enemy was on top of Ozig, and drew a dagger to stab him when an arrow passed clean through his head and dangled by the feathers out his eye socket. Blood and eye chunks spewed all over Ozig's face as he pushed the man off. In rising, he saw his son, Jorix, notching another arrow to his bow and pointing it up at the walls, taking out archers. Ozig would have to remember to thank him later. He was at the bottom of the mound now. He grabbed his club of tfhe ground muscled his way through varden soldiers to the front, pushing all soldiers forward. Simpsov was atop the mound, screaming wildy, flailing a battleaxe around, cleaving one man completely in two. Elgrim, Ozig's brother, Was telling varden soldiers to push as he battered men with the handle of his halberd, sending them tumbling down the mound. Ozig crushed a man's skull and snapped his neck at the same time with a blow from his club. The man next to him was struck in the heart with an arrow and crumbled in a heap. Ozig continued to swing his mighty club, each time crushing armor, breaking through wards, shattering weapons, and taking lives. Hodvu, the werecat, scaled the jagged wall in cat form and then changed to human form, grabbing an arrow from the ground and stabbing archers in their throats and eyes. Mabryn battered men off the mound with his shield, shouting words in the ancient language. Soon, the massive game of king of the Hill was won by the Varden, and the Imperial line began to break as more men were funneled into the small space. Ozig hit a man in his chest, shattering his ribcage and then brought his club up under the man's chin as he doubled over, shattering most of his face and skull and sending him tumbling into his own men. Soon varden archers scaled the walls, and Jorix, Ozig's archery-prone son found himself raining fire down upon the imperials from their own battlements. In a matter of minutes, Ozig had gained entry into the city. The forces separated briefly as the empire tried to regroup. Ozig pointed at Belatona and screamed
"BEARS! TO GLORY!"
Ozig and his men, followed by hundreds of varden warriors thundered into Belatona. They all had tunnel vision. While the Dragons and Riders were busy fighting each other, they were busy winning the battle on the ground. Victory was sure to be theirs this day.
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Post by cicymyst on Jan 9, 2012 23:11:26 GMT -5
Cicymyst gasped as the two dragons' minds and the rider's spell converged upon him. He would not admit defeat easily, though, and he was determined to protect the soldiers the rider could be devastating. "I know your dragon means a lot to you..." he muttered, loosing strength fast, "and I'm so deeply and sincerely I have to attack such a pair, but your logic is flawed..." Cicymyst only had a bit of strength left available to talk with, so he tried his hardest to get his message across. "The Empire...Glabatorix will hurt the riders... and you two... more than we could ever... change your names...and be free... please..." with that he withdrew into his mind, gritting his teeth in pain. He chanted a verse his mother had taught him that he used only as a last resort. "On the hill, the fires burn at midnight, superstition's in the air. Sparks fly as the fires burn at midnight, the stars are out and magic is here. I long for the knowledge of my name..." (ooc: who can name that song? PM me) Cicymyst now hoped and prayed that someone would save him and Silis, for he could only hope to hold the two dragons and rider off in a thousand years. His sword shook as he pointed it at the rider. "Your empire costed me my family and childhood. Soon it may cost you your dragon. I have seen some secrets of the Empire in my travels..." Cicymyst was struggling with his last bit of endurance to choke the renewed thoughts out now. "You will see, rider. Trust only the Varden. They are the only hope... for Firen..."
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Merril
Soldier
The Hum of Your Valved Voice
Posts: 33
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Post by Merril on Jan 9, 2012 23:55:44 GMT -5
(Sorry, recognizing him as an elf was a complete lapse on my part. We'll go with sense of smell. Apologies.)
Giving more of an ugly snarl than a smile, Nar Ahrun did not remove his gaze from the newcomer. The Elf stank of many things, and Ahrun did not doubt that magic was one of them. However, he and his rams were well warded against magical attacks, and was confident that his rams could overwhelm the man before any mental victory could be won. Either way, he was in no danger here.
"Little men sometimes talk big..."
With that, Ahrun laughed, a growling sound that brought Merril's attention from the now magically bound Hyperion. The man's weaponry had been lost in the crash, but she was confident that she had drained enough energy from his various reserves that he would pose no further threat that day.
"Great Nar, there is no further need for bloodshed here today."
The lithe She-Elf slowly moved toward the Urgal chief, waiting until he showed no sign of violence to further approach and stand between Ahrun and the newcomer. She turned to the hooded man, sending an inquisitive probe toward his mind. She had no frame of reference for him other than the fact that he was willing to use violence against the forces of the Varden...at least, these irreverent Urgals. If the probe was deflected, she would know that he was a practitioner of gramarye. If not, she would know all she needed to know anyway.
"Friend, put your blade away...we are soldiers of the Varden, and want no part of quarreling with you here. Do not push us, and we will not push you..."
Swallowing her feelings over the death of the dragon she added, "what is dead is dead...do not shed blood over it..."
As the speaking continued and the forces of the Varden spilled further into Belatona, the Urgals moved into an even more aggressive formation, attempting to enclose the impudent stranger's sides. Merril looked back to Nar Ahrun with a plantiff expression. After a few moments, the Urgal lifted his hand and the Urgal rams before him stopped advancing, though they did not give up their aggressive postures.
"Leave...now..."
Merril turned to the strange man and nodded once in agreement with the Urgal chief, knowing, as the mood seemed to indicate, that this would be the final warning.
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 10, 2012 0:08:48 GMT -5
Emiryal was not moved by Cicymyst's words. "I cannot turn on the Empire. But even if I were free I would not join the Varden. I hate the Varden as much as I hate the Empire." How could he trust the Varden when one of them, Cicymyst, had harmed Firern in such a way.
He felt the continual drain of energy from the spell still affecting Cicymyst, burning him from the inside out. It was painful he hoped. Cicymyst deserved nothing less. "The Empire took more from me than it did from you." He let the tip of his sword, Domia, press against Cicymyst's throat. The black blade was clean and sharp.
"What are you babbling about secrets of the Empire? There is nothing you could tell me that I don't already know." Emiryal was kept well informed of the Empire's knowledge and military moves. Nothing Cicymyst told him would be new.
If anything could touch him it was Firern's life. There was nothing he cared more about than that. It was unnerving to him that Cicymyst knew that, if played right Cicymyst could exploit him with that. "I do not trust the Varden," he said. Cicymyst's biggest mistake was bringing up the Varden with Firern's life.
Firern was safer with the Empire than with the Varden. While they were the youngest Empire Rider and Dragon. But Firern and he were too valuable to the Empire for Galbatorix to risk loosing either of them.
As Firern was released from Cicymyst's will he put up his defenses and contacted Emiryal. Within moments Isikal, Firern and Emiryal mentally attacked again as one. Emiryal wanted to break into his mind as he had done to Firern. From within he could truly make Cicymyst suffer for what he'd done and then he would die.
Then an Empire spell caster touched Emiryal's mind. The man told him the status of the battle and that the Varden had breached the city. "Nángoröth rauthr," he muttered. It wasn't a spell, but just a frustration. "Looks like this will have to wait another day, Cicymyst. But I promise you, this is not over."
All mental attacks on Cicymyst ceased as Firern dived towards the ground. Emiryal quickly got onto his back and tightened the straps on the saddle before the black dragon took off towards the main fight in the city. It seemed the fight was lost for Beltona.
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Post by Kathena on Jan 10, 2012 19:18:09 GMT -5
Silis watched as Cicymyst and Emiryal talked and attacked each other. Oh dear. She thought. Cicymyst can't handle him alone! And he broke my leg! The thought was still a shock to her, but she knew by now that it was true. She glanced at the Rider and human as they attacked each other, feeling helpless. She had a chance to fight, and she wanted to take it. But before she knew it, her slim chance was over.
Her emerald eyes widened as Emiryal hopped on Firern, and wind hit her face as the dragon lifted off. The large black cat growled, raking the ground with her claws and lashing her tail. She didn't want the Rider to leave yet. Although she was hurt, she felt as if she was just getting started fighting. He thinks his only fight is with Cicymyst? Oh, he is so going to get it. She thought angrily.
Lifting her huge muzzle she let out a loud, bloodcurding howl. She wasn't quite sure if the Rider heard it, but she hoped he did. She didn't like being crippled and he would pay for that. I will come back as well. I will have my revenge and I will fight along side Cicymyst once more. She thought furiously. She knew it was bold to talk like that, but she didn't care. She would have revenge, he would count on that. If he was wounded or not she simply didn't mind.
Shaking her head to get her mind off of it, she turned to Cicymyst her eremald green eyes still, narrowed. She flicked her tail, annoyed, as she padded up to him.
"Mrreow," she muttered, frustrated.
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Amanes ran towards the other three warriors, ready to fight. Suddenly, a black dragon rose from a street away. The soldier froze in their tracks and glanced at each other aquirredly. They mumbled to each other before turning to Amanes.
"We do not forgive you for what you did, but we prefer follow the rest of the Empire. I see no other soldiers about us." The black haired one announced, glaring at the elf.
"I hope to find you in another battle, but that is very unlikely." The brown haired one finshed, turning away from Amanes and marching away. The other two shared a meaningless glance before whirled around and following their fellow soldier.
Amanes giggled slightly and batted her eyes in amusment. Why would they fight not fight me anyway? I do want something to do. She thought. Then she reminded herself of how much she disliked war. It just isn't right to kill someone just to win, but times have become grave and I suppose something must be done. The dirty blond haired elf glanced around, not quite sure of where to be. Then she stared longingly over at where the werecat had disappeared. She hadn't talked to a werecat since she left her adopted sister and Azahel in Ellesmera. It would be nice to have something that reminded me of the past. She thought. She pondered on this for awhile before sheathing her sword. Blinking her chocolate brown eyes, she began to walk through to the ally between the two houses. "Ugh," she muttered, glancing into the dirty ally. "You would think Belatona would be more clean." Amanes glared at the small space one more time before stepping into the darkness.
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Post by cicymyst on Jan 10, 2012 20:01:58 GMT -5
Cicymyst spat in the rider's footprint as Emirayal turned to leave. "Fool! he shouted, angry at the rider's belief that he knew nothing of importance, "do you really think that Galbatorix would let you know what I can tell you?" Cicymyst heard Emirayal continue tramping toward his dragon. "I have seen Firern's mind, and yours through his... If you stay with the Empire, your darkest fears will come to pass. Beware, rider, beware." he heard the rider snort, though whether with contempt or something else he knew not. Cicymyst welcomed the cooling gusts of Firern's wings, shaking some life and energy back into him. He was so frustrated that a rider could deceive himself so completely. He had spent the past two years gathering information on the Empire, and recovering the intel that his mother had uncovered. He knew this stuff! Cicymyst was fuming when Silis padded up to him, if somewhat awkwardly with her broken foot. He sighed and pushed himself up, taking deep breaths and checking his sore areas for wounds. "You okay, Silis?" he inquired as he ripped off part of the hem of his dusty tunic, "Do you need me to carry you back to camp? I dunno if you're going to get back very fast on that foot..." he cleansed the strip of cloth as best he could and winced as he bandaged a small gash on the inside of his left bicep. "so much for taking him down..." Cicymyst muttered, "Arrogant fool..." He paced over to where his dagger lay and plucked it up, rubbing his temples the whole way. He then walked back and sheathed his two blades. He then stood gazing at the smoke-strewn sky, brooding over what had just occurrd. Then he looked down and offered his hand and smile to Silis. "Shall we see how the battle fares?"
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 11, 2012 2:38:31 GMT -5
Emiryal did not give any sign he had heard Cicymyst's words. What Cicymyst said was true that his greatest fear might come to pass, but what could he do about that. The Varden were no better. Were anything to be done about it, he'd have to be free from the Empire and all other alliances. His choice was between two evils in his mind. The Varden or the Empire. Due to his oaths he had to choose the Empire, but perhaps that wasn't so bad. As long as he followed Galbatorix's orders Firern would not be harmed.
He still doubted Cicymyst's acclaimed secret. He knew much of the Empire and was entitled to some of the most well guarded secrets of it. Cicymyst may have seen Firern's mind but without careful study not all he had seen would make any sense to him.
As Firern gained altitude Emiryal heard Sill's yowl. He paid no head to her though. He had more important matters now. The Varden had put up more resistance and cunning than he had expected. And Beltona was doomed to fall. For what good it would do the Empire soldiers would have to retreat soon.
Firern circled over the city. From his vantage point Emiryal could see the fallen dragon and the few places Beltona's defenses had been breached. The Varden streamed into Beltona, and despite the dark magic on the Empire Soldiers to feel no pain, the Varden were over running them.
Firern touched him mind then. Firern had been injured in the fight with the Varden dragon. Emiryal hadn't thought about that until Firern touched his mind. He quickly cast a spell enhanced with dark magic to heal Firern quickly.
He then turned back to the problem at hand. He was but the youngest Empire Rider here. While he outranked all the soldiers he was not sure he should give the retreat order. He was surprised that none of the other Empire Riders had called for it yet, and it was that, which made him hesitate to give the order. |
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