{ooc: okay peeps - I'm home and kicking, could somebody please give me a kick run down of events before I assmue my place }
Seeing the death of the monster Xandax quickly tried to survey the site to get perspective.
Again he heard the words in his head:
"effingo statua" - he felt the presence of both his mentors - his mother and his stepfather.
"Ferox" glowed brightly.
[ 12-26-2001: Message edited by: Xandax ]
Athkathla II
A cry of pain followed by a string of curses was heard as Rail reappeared, very near the torn and broken bady of Lazal. He seemed in remarkable shape for being that close to the devastation of the torrential magic Magus had unleashed, but he was desperately clutching his runed hand. "Oh, for the love of Cyric," he cried, shaking his hand as if it were on fire, a smile growing on his face despite his obvious discomfort. "I don't think it was meant for that kind of power!"
"What hapened, here?" Xandax looked about in mild confusion, but his eyes rested in satisfaction at the lifeless body of the dead wizard.
The others hurried up to the warrior noting in relief that the demons had all been destroyed in the horrible blast as well.
"I let him know more than I should have." Rail was relieved to feel the burning in the runes lessening, if ever-so-slowly. "It was not me, however, but all Magus who won this one. Come, we must hurry!" With a start he motioned all the others to follow and he began to run the same direction as Virrilis' clone.
* * *
That help, Xan? Magus and Lazal battled. Virrilis (Aegis) and Thryn were "cloned" by Lazal. Thryn's clone is dead and Virrilis' is still in the rift. Lazal perished, and with the final blow, Magus vanished.
[ 12-26-2001: Message edited by: Rail ]
"What hapened, here?" Xandax looked about in mild confusion, but his eyes rested in satisfaction at the lifeless body of the dead wizard.
The others hurried up to the warrior noting in relief that the demons had all been destroyed in the horrible blast as well.
"I let him know more than I should have." Rail was relieved to feel the burning in the runes lessening, if ever-so-slowly. "It was not me, however, but all Magus who won this one. Come, we must hurry!" With a start he motioned all the others to follow and he began to run the same direction as Virrilis' clone.
* * *
That help, Xan? Magus and Lazal battled. Virrilis (Aegis) and Thryn were "cloned" by Lazal. Thryn's clone is dead and Virrilis' is still in the rift. Lazal perished, and with the final blow, Magus vanished.
[ 12-26-2001: Message edited by: Rail ]
Matti Il-Amin, Paladin, comedian, and expert adventurer. Proudly bearing the colors of the [url="http://www.svelmoe.dk/blade/index.htm"]Blades of the Banshee[/url]
@Rail: quote: All was silent, with even the remaining demons pausing for a moment.
That would have implied that some of them are still alive
But now that I think about it, it’s probably better that they’re all dead. So we’ll let it slip
@Aegis: Waiting for you now... I’m assuming you want to roleplay Sethan, right?
@all: Don’t run off...the story's not over yet I still have a few surprises left in my bag of tricks...
[ 12-27-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
That would have implied that some of them are still alive
But now that I think about it, it’s probably better that they’re all dead. So we’ll let it slip @Aegis: Waiting for you now... I’m assuming you want to roleplay Sethan, right?
@all: Don’t run off...the story's not over yet
I still have a few surprises left in my bag of tricks...[ 12-27-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
Xandax surveyed the area. It showed sign of the magical battle that had taken place here just moments earlier. Scorched areas, dissolving corpses of magical beings – both Magus and Lazal were gone. Xandax tightened his grip around Ferox and his shield Curator, he looked up, expecting to see the sky, it was a strange and disturbing sight. He sniffed the air – sensing the burning of flesh.
“This isn’t over” he thought – looking at his amulet he noticed it was still shinning.
“One more charge – you can use it once more” he heard his mother’s voice.
“But what do it do?” Xandax replied in his mind.
“You know the answer – it is in your past” the voice replied – and was replaced by a vision of his past – a vision of his battle with the mortal form of his father – a vision of him fighting his father, but it wasn’t him……..” Xandax realised what the amulet would do.
The vision was broken as memories of his stepfather entered his mind.
“Keep you focus at the task at hand” he heard his stepfather’s memory whisper.
Xandax snapped back into reality – ready to face whatever was going on.
“This isn’t over” he thought – looking at his amulet he noticed it was still shinning.
“One more charge – you can use it once more” he heard his mother’s voice.
“But what do it do?” Xandax replied in his mind.
“You know the answer – it is in your past” the voice replied – and was replaced by a vision of his past – a vision of his battle with the mortal form of his father – a vision of him fighting his father, but it wasn’t him……..” Xandax realised what the amulet would do.
The vision was broken as memories of his stepfather entered his mind.
“Keep you focus at the task at hand” he heard his stepfather’s memory whisper.
Xandax snapped back into reality – ready to face whatever was going on.
Insert signature here.
Good god so much has happened.
I will need a freaking week to read all of this.
By sunday hopefully i will have a post.
Too busy now - have guests over till sunday.
I will need a freaking week to read all of this.
By sunday hopefully i will have a post.
Too busy now - have guests over till sunday.
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? - Khalil Gibran
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
Sethin heard the commanding elf maidens shout, and slowed his pace, turning to face her. He did so cautiously, knowing well enough that any sudden movement might send the woman into a clerical barrage upon him. As he met her gaze, he smiled nonchalently, loosening his grip on the weapons on his hip. He observed her carefully. Though she had obviously seen combat before, she was nervous, whether from striking someone down, or from the likness to Virrilis that Sethin held. His grin only widened. He continued to stride forth, closing the distence between the two, his hands still resting the hilts of his weapons.
"I said Stop!" She commanded again, although this time she seemed less sure of herself. Aerie felt her arms begin to tremble, and her gaze waver under Sethin's intense scrutiny of her. She backed a step, and lowered her arms swiftly, the pressuring mounting withen her.
Before Sethin, a large, glowing hammer materialized, and arced down, intending to crush the target. He saw this before Aerie had even cast the spell, another gift from his powerful master. He quickly sidestepped the hammer, and continued to press forth. He had no fear of what this elf woman might do, nor from the companions of hers that would be pursuing him by now. He stopped in front of Aerie, less then arms length away. He stared into her, his gaze cold and uncaring. He made a sudden movement, and grabbed her by the wrists. He brought her close, their bodies almost touching. He smiled visciously. He let go of one of her wrists, raising his hand, he struck her across the face. A large red mark formed on her delicate cheek, and she fell to the floor, Sethin releasing her other wrist. As she hit the floor, Sethin nudged her with his foot, and seeing no reaction, smiled at his one powerful strike that was enough to render her unconscious.
From the corridors behind him, he heard the ones from outside pursuing. He dallied no longer. He made his way to each of them, quickly gathering them up, and placing them in a magical bag of holding. He then turned on his heel as he collected the last one. Looking for the swiftest means of escape...
*****
The battle now over, Virrilis began wipe his blades clean of the demon's blood. He was thankful for Magus's gung-ho casting, allowing him some reprieve against fighting the mighty Balor. He ran his thumb smoothly over the obsidion gem on his scimitar, and banished the elemental back to the ground. He around the feild of battle. Large craters now adorned the Rift's ground, and the walls of the central tower were scorched. He saw the others, stunned as they searched for Magus. Rail stood over Lazal, the mage obviously defeated, knowing something that Virrilis didn't. It wasn't until he saw the assasin sprint towards the Rift's central tower that he understood. Sethin had made his way inside, and was after the crown!
Virrilis, bloodied and battered, also sprinted after Rail, hoping that the two would make it in time to combat this mysterious clone. The Blade caught up to Rail easily. Merely glancing at each other as they ran through the twisting, maze like corridors of the Rift, Rail guiding the two, they both realized the danger they now faced. They rounded the finally corridor, if it could even called that, and saw Aerie on the floor. Rail stopped, and knealt down, checking her pulse. A moment later, he gave a relieved sigh, nodding to Virrilis she was alive. Virrilis inspected the magical jars, now empty, realizing they were too late. Sethin had made it here first, and the Crown was now in the possesion of his dark master...
*****
@Magus: Sorry, been away. Anyway, I'll be able to continue for a little bit longer today, but I won't be able to tomorrow. so, if any thing will be done, please, do it fast.
"I said Stop!" She commanded again, although this time she seemed less sure of herself. Aerie felt her arms begin to tremble, and her gaze waver under Sethin's intense scrutiny of her. She backed a step, and lowered her arms swiftly, the pressuring mounting withen her.
Before Sethin, a large, glowing hammer materialized, and arced down, intending to crush the target. He saw this before Aerie had even cast the spell, another gift from his powerful master. He quickly sidestepped the hammer, and continued to press forth. He had no fear of what this elf woman might do, nor from the companions of hers that would be pursuing him by now. He stopped in front of Aerie, less then arms length away. He stared into her, his gaze cold and uncaring. He made a sudden movement, and grabbed her by the wrists. He brought her close, their bodies almost touching. He smiled visciously. He let go of one of her wrists, raising his hand, he struck her across the face. A large red mark formed on her delicate cheek, and she fell to the floor, Sethin releasing her other wrist. As she hit the floor, Sethin nudged her with his foot, and seeing no reaction, smiled at his one powerful strike that was enough to render her unconscious.
From the corridors behind him, he heard the ones from outside pursuing. He dallied no longer. He made his way to each of them, quickly gathering them up, and placing them in a magical bag of holding. He then turned on his heel as he collected the last one. Looking for the swiftest means of escape...
*****
The battle now over, Virrilis began wipe his blades clean of the demon's blood. He was thankful for Magus's gung-ho casting, allowing him some reprieve against fighting the mighty Balor. He ran his thumb smoothly over the obsidion gem on his scimitar, and banished the elemental back to the ground. He around the feild of battle. Large craters now adorned the Rift's ground, and the walls of the central tower were scorched. He saw the others, stunned as they searched for Magus. Rail stood over Lazal, the mage obviously defeated, knowing something that Virrilis didn't. It wasn't until he saw the assasin sprint towards the Rift's central tower that he understood. Sethin had made his way inside, and was after the crown!
Virrilis, bloodied and battered, also sprinted after Rail, hoping that the two would make it in time to combat this mysterious clone. The Blade caught up to Rail easily. Merely glancing at each other as they ran through the twisting, maze like corridors of the Rift, Rail guiding the two, they both realized the danger they now faced. They rounded the finally corridor, if it could even called that, and saw Aerie on the floor. Rail stopped, and knealt down, checking her pulse. A moment later, he gave a relieved sigh, nodding to Virrilis she was alive. Virrilis inspected the magical jars, now empty, realizing they were too late. Sethin had made it here first, and the Crown was now in the possesion of his dark master...
*****
@Magus: Sorry, been away. Anyway, I'll be able to continue for a little bit longer today, but I won't be able to tomorrow. so, if any thing will be done, please, do it fast.
From the corridors behind him, he heard the ones from outside pursuing. He dallied no longer. He made his way to each of the jars, quickly gathering them up, and placing them in a magical bag of holding. He then turned on his heel as he collected the last one. Looking for the swiftest means of escape...
He tried to teleport out, but found the way mysteriously blocked. Somehow he knew it wasn’t the Rift’s doing. The bag of holding at his side glowed with a lurid light.
The Crown fights me. It knows its fate should I succeed.
The footsteps grew closer. He veiled himself with invisibility and waited.
* * * * *
Rail stopped, and kneeled down, checking her pulse. A moment later, he gave a relieved sigh, nodding to Virrilis she was alive.
Suddenly he sensed a shimmer of magic, then a slight breeze. He rolled to the side, a scimitar grazing his cheek. He sprang to his feet, looking to the spot where his attacker should have been. Nothing, not even the usual glimmer of a spell of improved invisibility. He raised his blade just in time to parry a blow to the arm, sidestepping as another slice cut shallowly into his thigh.
* * * * *
The remainder of the Rift’s defenders surveyed the battlefield, looking for their master. They couldn’t sense his presence, near or far. Only his diluted life force, permeating the dimension as it always had. They were puzzled. They should have vanished, their lives quenched with that of their creator’s. Yet they were still here, with no one to serve, no one to protect. And so they searched, aimless and forgotten, oblivious to the decisive battle that yet raged in the Rift’s very heart.
* * * * *
@all: Feel free to show up at the battle. It’s assumed that Xandax and the others would be right behind.
@Aegis: I’ll let you handle this battle, for the most part. I’ll keep an eye on it and step in as needed to guide things along
[ 12-28-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
He tried to teleport out, but found the way mysteriously blocked. Somehow he knew it wasn’t the Rift’s doing. The bag of holding at his side glowed with a lurid light.
The Crown fights me. It knows its fate should I succeed.
The footsteps grew closer. He veiled himself with invisibility and waited.
* * * * *
Rail stopped, and kneeled down, checking her pulse. A moment later, he gave a relieved sigh, nodding to Virrilis she was alive.
Suddenly he sensed a shimmer of magic, then a slight breeze. He rolled to the side, a scimitar grazing his cheek. He sprang to his feet, looking to the spot where his attacker should have been. Nothing, not even the usual glimmer of a spell of improved invisibility. He raised his blade just in time to parry a blow to the arm, sidestepping as another slice cut shallowly into his thigh.
* * * * *
The remainder of the Rift’s defenders surveyed the battlefield, looking for their master. They couldn’t sense his presence, near or far. Only his diluted life force, permeating the dimension as it always had. They were puzzled. They should have vanished, their lives quenched with that of their creator’s. Yet they were still here, with no one to serve, no one to protect. And so they searched, aimless and forgotten, oblivious to the decisive battle that yet raged in the Rift’s very heart.
* * * * *
@all: Feel free to show up at the battle. It’s assumed that Xandax and the others would be right behind.
@Aegis: I’ll let you handle this battle, for the most part. I’ll keep an eye on it and step in as needed to guide things along
[ 12-28-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
Rail retreated, barely managing to parry blow after forceful blow. He knew he was no match in swordplay for the invisible clone, especially having seen the outcome with the real Virrilis. He felt a slight cut on his leg as he parried a blade just in the nick of time. He ducked to avoid the other, rolling to the side as a foot came in. It was all he could do to block and dodge the two unseen scimitars and it was only a matter of time before one got through. His arms were tiring quickly. His hands stung from the force of the blows.
He concentrated and faded from sight, but the blows continued. Although they were no longer as certain, the clone pressed forward relentlessly. While the false Virrilis may not be able to see his opponent, his skill with the blades was astounding.
The assassin felt one of the blades bite into his shoulder, though just enough off the mark to maintain the use of his arm. He took another step back and hit the wall. Sparks flew from the stone next to his face as magical scimitar tore into the wall of Magus' tower.
The assassin dove to the side, hearing a crash and groan of a heavy weight and the scraping of metal on stone from where he once stood. Rolling to his feet, he saw that Xandax had entered the fray, shield first, slamming into the invisible Sethir.
* * *
Sethin rolled off the wall, keeping his feet and parrying the sword thrust from behind. He smiled. The assassin had hardly been a challenge for the warrior, even when he could not see the human. He was getting tired of this easy slaughter. Eying the armored Xandax, he thought, "Perhaps finally a challenge...", thought he doubted the two together were even near a match for the magically created bladesinger.
[ 12-29-2001: Message edited by: Rail ]
He concentrated and faded from sight, but the blows continued. Although they were no longer as certain, the clone pressed forward relentlessly. While the false Virrilis may not be able to see his opponent, his skill with the blades was astounding.
The assassin felt one of the blades bite into his shoulder, though just enough off the mark to maintain the use of his arm. He took another step back and hit the wall. Sparks flew from the stone next to his face as magical scimitar tore into the wall of Magus' tower.
The assassin dove to the side, hearing a crash and groan of a heavy weight and the scraping of metal on stone from where he once stood. Rolling to his feet, he saw that Xandax had entered the fray, shield first, slamming into the invisible Sethir.
* * *
Sethin rolled off the wall, keeping his feet and parrying the sword thrust from behind. He smiled. The assassin had hardly been a challenge for the warrior, even when he could not see the human. He was getting tired of this easy slaughter. Eying the armored Xandax, he thought, "Perhaps finally a challenge...", thought he doubted the two together were even near a match for the magically created bladesinger.
[ 12-29-2001: Message edited by: Rail ]
Matti Il-Amin, Paladin, comedian, and expert adventurer. Proudly bearing the colors of the [url="http://www.svelmoe.dk/blade/index.htm"]Blades of the Banshee[/url]
He struck from behind, thryns sword hit the clone's back, not enough it had spun bloking the sword just before it did some real damage it had sunk in Thryn was sure but, how was there not any blood?The clone jammed it's leg behind Thryns knee, the theif fell over he rolled over and tryed to get up but couldn't.
@Rail: Sent you an e-mail.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
@Craig just gonna modify it a bit, as SethinOriginally posted by craig:
<STRONG>He struck from behind, thryns sword hit the clone's back, not enough it had spun bloking the sword just before it did some real damage it had sunk in Thryn was sure but, how was there not any blood?The clone jammed it's leg behind Thryns knee, the theif fell over he rolled over and tryed to get up but couldn't.</STRONG>
wouldn't be that careless@All: Repeat after me... Sethin...
*****
Virrilis spun as soon as he heard Rail being attacked. He watched as the skilled assasin dodged back, having only minor attacks scored against him. Sethin managed to remain invisible, even though he was pressing an offensive, something that typical magic was not capable of allowing. He knew he would have to do something before engaging in combat, along with the others, who had just entered the room. He quickly reached into a pouch on his hip, and grabbed a handful of what appeared ot be dust. He still held his left scimitar, in case Sethin decided to attack the Blade Singer. He murmed a few words of magic, and blew on the dust in his hand towards where he believed Sethin to currently be. His gamble paid off as the spell took effect. The dust outlined his form in a blue aura, not so much as dispelling the magic, but showing the others where to strike.
Annoying pests, thought Sethin as he casually batted away the attempted backstab. He watched as the blue aura gave away his position. In the corner of his eye, he saw the Assasin meld into the shadows of the room, trying to gain somewhat of an advantage over the skilled simulcrum. In front of him, the well armoured man made another strike, still hiding behind his shield, thrusting out with his sword to Sethin's mid-section. He casually parried the blow with a swift drop of his right scimitar. As he felt the other blade deflect, he quickly flicked his wrist, hooking the man's blade. The braodsword became locked in with the scimitar, and Sethin gave a slight tug, pulling it from the man's already jarred grip. From behind, he sensed the one theif, who had attempted an early kill, stalk behind him, his blade raised. Sethin rolled his own foot back, his back facing the wall. He kept his right scimitar holding the armoured man at bay, and he quickly raised his left to his shoulder, switching his grasp, so the blade now cover his forearm, and no longer acted as an extension of his arm.
Thryn made his attack, and deft overhand slice that would slit the clones throat. In his other hand, a small dagger slid out of his sleeve, resting in the palm of his hand. He gripped the dagger. As he brought his sword down upon Sethin, he raised his dagger to hopefully gut the clone in the side, just below his ribs. Sethin smiled at the obvious attack. He struck out with his left scimitar, rolling the hilt along the palm of his hand, guiding it with his fingers, he knocked the incoming sword away. His scimitar was now placed back into his hand, and again acted as an extension of his own arm. He quickly raised his foot, making sure not to imbalance himself, and deftly kicked out at Thryn's hand, which was holding the dagger. His foot dropped back to the ground just as the dagger hit the ground. He then kicked the weapon away.
Xandax, after losing "Ferox" to the skilled fighter, began to use his shield as a blugeon. Raising it high, and hoping that he could hit the skilled fighter off gaurd, and at least retreive his weapon. As Xandax attacked, it almost seemed as Sethin could see both sides of the fight, even though he was currently looking towards Thryn. Yet, every attack made by Xandax was knocked away, and casually, by Sethin. He managed a glance to the ground, where "Ferox" lay. He would have to make a grab at it if he wanted even a chance to defeat this skilled swordsman.
As Thryn made another attempt to strike the clone, Sethin made a sudden lunge his way, leaving Xandax free to retreive his blade. Thryn was caught unaware, and was regretful of it soon after. Sethin slammed his elbow into Thryn's nose, sending the theif backwards, reeling in pain and dizziness. He staggered backwards, his one hand going to his now bloody nose, and attempting to regain some composure. Sethin pressed the attack on. He made a few attacks to the staggering Thryn, using his imbalance to his advantage. He made three deft slash marks across the stunned Theif, then rolling his scimitar in the palm of his hand, he struck Thryn hard across the face with the flat of his sword. The theif crumbled to the ground, the pain across his head unbearbale. He roled up in a fetile position, unable to move after being struck so hard with enchanted blade.
Sethin turned to Xandax, who had recovered his weapon. In the corner of his eye, he saw some blurred movment that may've been the assasin. He then realized that the Blade Singer, his other half, was no where to be seen. He shrugged the worries off. Xandax made a powerful charge to the clone, his shield held defensivly before him, and his sword raised in the air to atrike downwards. Sethin grinned, and moved forward, spinning as he did so. He held his scimitars in a way that as he spun under Xandax' attack, the two enchanted blades range melodiously off of the plate mail covering the fighters body. He stopped out of his spin, and faced the warrior, who had also turned to face Sethin. Sething grinned again as he saw just how damaging his weapons were to regular armour. Across Xandax' stomach, his armour had been slashed open, and bits of the chain mail underneath now hung out.
Xandax realized that he was seriously outmatched in the battle, especially without Thryn. He wondered where Faisal was during all this. He knew that if either Rail, or Virrilis would enter into the fight, his odds would improve, but on his own, he posed no threat to the clone. He made another bold charge towards Sethin, this time leading the way with "Curator". He rushed towards the fighter, hoping that he would at least make contact with him before he managed to get away. The nimble fighter was too fast, and Sethin merely stepped off to the side, and watched as Xandax barreled past him. Sethin made two marks upon Xandax' armour, and leapt backwards, his back now facing the corridors leading out. He smiled, and rested one of his scimitars on his shoulder, observing the room, and his handiwork. He then realized that two people were missing. He only saw the down theif, the elf maiden, and the outmatched fighter. Where was his other half and the assasin? He then turned on his heel, and charged from the room in a full spirnt, making his way down the twisting corridors. Xandax, recovering from his foolish rush, didn't see him go, nordid he pursue. He was more worried about Aerie and Thryn ot go chasing after an oppenant who was his supierior. He rushed to Thryn, helping him stand, and then to Aerie.
*****
@All: I'll continue this in about a half hour or so. I have plans for both Rail and Virrilis and Sethin, so hint hint..
Sethin ran down the corridors, making his way closer and closer to the exit of the Rift. As he turned the finally corner, it didn't surprise him to see the forms of two fighters standing before him, in order to stop his retreat. As Sethin was battling with Thryn and Xandax, Rail and Virrilis made their way out of the room, towards the exit to cut of the clones inevitable escape. the two would not have been able to fight effectivly if worring about the safety of not only the comatose Aerie, but their two companions as well, so they had stolen away, and prepared for this battle. Sethin stopped dead in his tracks, facing the two warriors who could surly test the limits of this clones abilities, sizing them. both had their weapons drawn, his other half holding his own pair of scimitars, while the assasin held up a powerful looking sword. He also knew that Virrilis had time to properly cast some minor enchantment spells upon the two. Sethin was wise enough to expect a stoneskin, or perhaps even a minor globe of protection over each of them. He grinned, and slowly walked forward. Neither Rail nor Virrilis moved, they just stood, waiting the attack.
Sethin stopped, a few feet away, and held the bag containing the pieces of the crown up. "Powerful artifact." he quipped casually, spinning it around in his hand before placing back on his pouch. "A shame I don't have the final piece, yet." He smiled, and watched the two carefully. He then stood up straight, and his face contorted into a twisted grin. "I almost forgot to introduce myself!" he mused to himself. He then bowed low, keeping his eyes level with his dangerous adversaries. "Sethin, at your service." He came back, the twisted grin still plastered on his face. As he looked towards the his oppenants faces, he heard the sounds of three people coming catch him before his fled the Rift. He scowled. "Well, I can't have them interupt our fun, now can I?" he chuckled to himself, and glanced to the corridor behind him. He nodded once. As the three came around, Faisal having caught up to the others, they were stopped abruptly by an invisible force placed between them, and the others. They would be forced to watch the outcome of this battle, without being able to do anything about. Sethin turned back to the two blocking his path.
Rail nodded to Virrilis, who nodded back. They each knew the plan. They would attack in unison, hopefully overwhelming the clone enough to strike it down. Sethin knew immediatly that the fight was about to begin. He dragged his left foot back, and raised both scimitars defensivly, crouching low. Rail and Virrilis charged the clone. The Blade Singer attacked high, while the crafty assasin struck low. Both's weapons began to strike with blinsing speed, and the ringing of the metal echoed through the maze like halls of the Rift. Each attack the duo made, Sethin counter easily. The clone found ways to parry both of Virrilis' blades, using only one of his, while always keeping track of the assasin's deft strikes and cuts. The battle was constantly switching directions. When Rail and Virrilis would push forward, forcing Sethin to fall back a few steps, the clone would deftly parry each attack, and eventually turn his retreat into an offensive, forcing the duo back. Any ground made by the pair was always quickly erased as Sethin quickly pushed forward again, regaining all lost footing. As the Virrilis attacked, Sethin spun on his heel, causing one of Rails thrusts to miss it's mark. In mid spin, Sethin position his weapons in a way where he would strike out at Virrilis. As the spin ended, and Virrilis' attack was dodged completly, Sethin offered to counering slashes to the Blade Singer's back. Virrilis felt this and staggered forward because of the force invovled. His powerful chainmail barely protecting the Blade's back from Sethin. Virrilis fell forward, slidding along the ground. Before he even stopped, he had already manouvered around, facing the combat between Rail and Sethin. Rail made many skilled attacks, but each one was defeated as easily as if Rail were a novice fighter.
Virrilis kipped himself to his feet, and charged back into the battle. He opened with his right scimitar striking high, and his left along the mid-section. Sethin countered using his free blade, raising it up on a slant with enough force to force Virrilis' lower blade to deflect the higher one. Sethin then turned back to Rail, who was making another attempt at ending the clone's life. Sethin scowled, and fiercly slammed his foot into Rails instep, causing the assasin to recoil, only his attack but his body in response. Sethin raised his left blade high, and parried an attempt to strike the clone down from behind that Virrilis made. He countered by spinning on his heel, and slamming the bt end of his scimitar, again, into Virrilis' chin. This was about the threshold of Virrilis' endurance. He had already taken too many hits from the fighter in their intial encounter. He felt the pain run through his head, and a slight cracking noise from his chin. He staggered back, and dropped to the ground, the pain from the skilled attack already cascading through his body. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he lay prone on the floor. Rail was on his own.
*****
@Rail you can finish this if you want, but keep in mind Sethin has to escape from battle.
Sethin stopped, a few feet away, and held the bag containing the pieces of the crown up. "Powerful artifact." he quipped casually, spinning it around in his hand before placing back on his pouch. "A shame I don't have the final piece, yet." He smiled, and watched the two carefully. He then stood up straight, and his face contorted into a twisted grin. "I almost forgot to introduce myself!" he mused to himself. He then bowed low, keeping his eyes level with his dangerous adversaries. "Sethin, at your service." He came back, the twisted grin still plastered on his face. As he looked towards the his oppenants faces, he heard the sounds of three people coming catch him before his fled the Rift. He scowled. "Well, I can't have them interupt our fun, now can I?" he chuckled to himself, and glanced to the corridor behind him. He nodded once. As the three came around, Faisal having caught up to the others, they were stopped abruptly by an invisible force placed between them, and the others. They would be forced to watch the outcome of this battle, without being able to do anything about. Sethin turned back to the two blocking his path.
Rail nodded to Virrilis, who nodded back. They each knew the plan. They would attack in unison, hopefully overwhelming the clone enough to strike it down. Sethin knew immediatly that the fight was about to begin. He dragged his left foot back, and raised both scimitars defensivly, crouching low. Rail and Virrilis charged the clone. The Blade Singer attacked high, while the crafty assasin struck low. Both's weapons began to strike with blinsing speed, and the ringing of the metal echoed through the maze like halls of the Rift. Each attack the duo made, Sethin counter easily. The clone found ways to parry both of Virrilis' blades, using only one of his, while always keeping track of the assasin's deft strikes and cuts. The battle was constantly switching directions. When Rail and Virrilis would push forward, forcing Sethin to fall back a few steps, the clone would deftly parry each attack, and eventually turn his retreat into an offensive, forcing the duo back. Any ground made by the pair was always quickly erased as Sethin quickly pushed forward again, regaining all lost footing. As the Virrilis attacked, Sethin spun on his heel, causing one of Rails thrusts to miss it's mark. In mid spin, Sethin position his weapons in a way where he would strike out at Virrilis. As the spin ended, and Virrilis' attack was dodged completly, Sethin offered to counering slashes to the Blade Singer's back. Virrilis felt this and staggered forward because of the force invovled. His powerful chainmail barely protecting the Blade's back from Sethin. Virrilis fell forward, slidding along the ground. Before he even stopped, he had already manouvered around, facing the combat between Rail and Sethin. Rail made many skilled attacks, but each one was defeated as easily as if Rail were a novice fighter.
Virrilis kipped himself to his feet, and charged back into the battle. He opened with his right scimitar striking high, and his left along the mid-section. Sethin countered using his free blade, raising it up on a slant with enough force to force Virrilis' lower blade to deflect the higher one. Sethin then turned back to Rail, who was making another attempt at ending the clone's life. Sethin scowled, and fiercly slammed his foot into Rails instep, causing the assasin to recoil, only his attack but his body in response. Sethin raised his left blade high, and parried an attempt to strike the clone down from behind that Virrilis made. He countered by spinning on his heel, and slamming the bt end of his scimitar, again, into Virrilis' chin. This was about the threshold of Virrilis' endurance. He had already taken too many hits from the fighter in their intial encounter. He felt the pain run through his head, and a slight cracking noise from his chin. He staggered back, and dropped to the ground, the pain from the skilled attack already cascading through his body. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he lay prone on the floor. Rail was on his own.
*****
@Rail you can finish this if you want, but keep in mind Sethin has to escape from battle.
{ooc: hmmm...... although that is not how I've "played" my character - that will have to pass since I don't know you peeps plans
"and the outmatched [Xandax]"...
"[Xandax]recovering from his foolish rush"...
bah...
with all due respect - it is starting to feel like "I"/"we" have been reduced to inexperienced peons and that only one, two or three people can actually "do something fancy".
enough rant for now carry on...
}
"and the outmatched [Xandax]"...
"[Xandax]recovering from his foolish rush"...
bah...
with all due respect - it is starting to feel like "I"/"we" have been reduced to inexperienced peons and that only one, two or three people can actually "do something fancy".
enough rant for now
carry on...}
Insert signature here.
No offense intended, I did as best as I could. Keep in mind though that even esperianced fighters make mistakes (Virrilis/Virdel has) and that you had to lose to continue the story.Originally posted by Xandax:
<STRONG>{ooc: hmmm...... although that is not how I've "played" my character - that will have to pass since I don't know you peeps plans
"and the outmatched [Xandax]"...
"[Xandax]recovering from his foolish rush"...
bah...
with all due respect - it is starting to feel like "I"/"we" have been reduced to inexperienced peons and that only one, two or three people can actually "do something fancy".
enough rant for now
}</STRONG>
@Xandax- Rant taken and understood. I've tried to repesct everyone's characters (and villans) and will continue as best as I can, though we understand Sethin must escape.
Sorry 'bout the length in advance.
* * *
Rail's eyes narrowed and he frowned in frustration, but he held his ground. This was not his strength; swordplay was better left to those of that persuasion. Here was a warrior who mixed magic and steel, skill and corruption intertwined into one despicable creation. He wondered briefly why the construct had not died with Lazal, but he knew the answer before he spoke. It was not Lazal, but his master who created the clone. Here stood one god against another, though this battle as it was playing out clearly favored the simulacrum warrior. From his mind he heard the voice again, though it seemed as is from a great distance and more cautious, if the bold and foreboding voice could be called such. Step aside, now, Mortal, and you will be spared.
Rail frowned and gritted his teeth.
Another voice chuckled in his head.
The first voice turned cold. So be it!
The assassin shifted his stance from offensive to defensive, holding the hilt close to his body. He took a step back but did not stand aside.
Sethin sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why must I waste my time on worms such as this." He began to steadily walk forward toward the assassin as a bear toward an injured lamb. He could not see the silenced and vocalized Aerie had beginning the first of a number of powerful spells. His back was turned to the invisible barrier.
Rail yanked a pouch from his belt and hurled it outward in an arc, holding onto the bottom so the contents, powdered chalk, spread in a dusty cloud between the two combatants. The billows of the fine powder filled the corridor, obscuring each combatant from the other.
Sethin sighed and leapt through the cloud, scimitars twirling in a defensive pattern before him. He emerged from the cloud just in time to see the retreating assassin flick an object toward his face. With the flick of a wrist, Sethin cut the object cleanly in two. He even had time to marvel at his own skill.
Rail smiled. Whether the vial broke or not was no longer a worry, as he saw the creation raise his magically hardened blade to meet the fragile vial. It exploded in a shower of acrid drops. Shielding himself as best he could, Rail averted his face and continued his defensive retreat.
Sethin was not so lucky. His inhuman reflexes saved him from taking any serious damage as he averted his face, but a drop of the elixir fell into his right eye. Pain! He noticed an immediate burning, though he doubted there was enough to kill one such as him. He wondered if he could even die at all!
In a savage assault, the clone launched a series of attacks against the assassin. The blades were a blur of silver, and Rail was startled at the speed Sethin advanced. Parrying the first few blows, Rail knew he had no chance to survive long. His arms were tired and his own sword was getting heavier and heavier by the blow.
In silence, Xandax emerged from the fading cloud of dust like a grim visage of a ghostly warrior. His level expression showed no emotion whatsoever, only a cold calm. He strode intently toward the two combatants eager for a rematch.
Sethin caught a flash of white and steel as Xandax descended upon him, even as Rail took a few steps back down the hallway to catch his breath. The evil bladesinger spun from the tiring assassin in time to parry Ferox and launched an attack of his own. The flurry of scimitar blades were met by shield and sword alike, pushing onward and forcing the corrupted bladesinger back a step, once again toward the assassin. The clone's right eye was now swollen shut by the poison and the pain and lack of depth perception was obviously bothering his fighting.
Aerie's spell sequencer shimmered into effect on the bladesinger. Lower resistance, greater malison, and doom. The next spells would be far more dramatic.
Xandax continued his cold advance, blocking blow after blow but pushing the bladesinger slowly backwards where the beleaguered assassin waited. Thankfully, but without warning, Rail felt the strength of Tymora flow into his muscles, and he thanked Fas from afar. The hammer-bearing cleric stood up the hall over the fallen Virrilis near where the magical barrier had been, and he was already beginning his next spell.
Sethin leapt to the side of the corridor to keep from being trapped between the cold warrior and the rejuvenated assassin. Xandax leapt to match, like a wolf stalking a deer. Rushing forward, he caught the bladesinger somewhat by surprise, using his shield to push through the elf-creation's defenses. One of the scimitars slipped past the shield, biting into Xandax's leg, though the pain hardly registered in his state of mind. Slamming his shield to the side, Xandax managed to pin Sethin's other blade against the wall. Ferox was blocked by the other scimitar, as Xandax expected, but he shifted his weight quickly and brought his helmmed forehead crashing into Sethin's face.
The clone spun out of the predicament with uncanny agility and speed, seemingly unfazed, though a red welt covered his nose one eye. Blood began to trickle from his nose. Sethin's heart beat faster for the first time with something other than adrenaline.
The thing could bleed.
Rail and Xandax nodded to each other, and in silent unison they began to circle their deadly foe.
* * *
All okay with this. Please continue the battle, anyone (especially Xandax or Fas). Xandax and Rail in close combat with Sethin. Fas within striking distance by spell or hammer. Aerie (very hi level cleric and mage!) is near completion of next effect but back up the hall past Fas. Thryn recovered now (?) and enter where you see fit. Just make sure Sethin escaped (but by the skin of his teeth, if you want. And with the pieces of the Crown.)
Sorry 'bout the length in advance.
* * *
Rail's eyes narrowed and he frowned in frustration, but he held his ground. This was not his strength; swordplay was better left to those of that persuasion. Here was a warrior who mixed magic and steel, skill and corruption intertwined into one despicable creation. He wondered briefly why the construct had not died with Lazal, but he knew the answer before he spoke. It was not Lazal, but his master who created the clone. Here stood one god against another, though this battle as it was playing out clearly favored the simulacrum warrior. From his mind he heard the voice again, though it seemed as is from a great distance and more cautious, if the bold and foreboding voice could be called such. Step aside, now, Mortal, and you will be spared.
Rail frowned and gritted his teeth.
Another voice chuckled in his head.
The first voice turned cold. So be it!
The assassin shifted his stance from offensive to defensive, holding the hilt close to his body. He took a step back but did not stand aside.
Sethin sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why must I waste my time on worms such as this." He began to steadily walk forward toward the assassin as a bear toward an injured lamb. He could not see the silenced and vocalized Aerie had beginning the first of a number of powerful spells. His back was turned to the invisible barrier.
Rail yanked a pouch from his belt and hurled it outward in an arc, holding onto the bottom so the contents, powdered chalk, spread in a dusty cloud between the two combatants. The billows of the fine powder filled the corridor, obscuring each combatant from the other.
Sethin sighed and leapt through the cloud, scimitars twirling in a defensive pattern before him. He emerged from the cloud just in time to see the retreating assassin flick an object toward his face. With the flick of a wrist, Sethin cut the object cleanly in two. He even had time to marvel at his own skill.
Rail smiled. Whether the vial broke or not was no longer a worry, as he saw the creation raise his magically hardened blade to meet the fragile vial. It exploded in a shower of acrid drops. Shielding himself as best he could, Rail averted his face and continued his defensive retreat.
Sethin was not so lucky. His inhuman reflexes saved him from taking any serious damage as he averted his face, but a drop of the elixir fell into his right eye. Pain! He noticed an immediate burning, though he doubted there was enough to kill one such as him. He wondered if he could even die at all!
In a savage assault, the clone launched a series of attacks against the assassin. The blades were a blur of silver, and Rail was startled at the speed Sethin advanced. Parrying the first few blows, Rail knew he had no chance to survive long. His arms were tired and his own sword was getting heavier and heavier by the blow.
In silence, Xandax emerged from the fading cloud of dust like a grim visage of a ghostly warrior. His level expression showed no emotion whatsoever, only a cold calm. He strode intently toward the two combatants eager for a rematch.
Sethin caught a flash of white and steel as Xandax descended upon him, even as Rail took a few steps back down the hallway to catch his breath. The evil bladesinger spun from the tiring assassin in time to parry Ferox and launched an attack of his own. The flurry of scimitar blades were met by shield and sword alike, pushing onward and forcing the corrupted bladesinger back a step, once again toward the assassin. The clone's right eye was now swollen shut by the poison and the pain and lack of depth perception was obviously bothering his fighting.
Aerie's spell sequencer shimmered into effect on the bladesinger. Lower resistance, greater malison, and doom. The next spells would be far more dramatic.
Xandax continued his cold advance, blocking blow after blow but pushing the bladesinger slowly backwards where the beleaguered assassin waited. Thankfully, but without warning, Rail felt the strength of Tymora flow into his muscles, and he thanked Fas from afar. The hammer-bearing cleric stood up the hall over the fallen Virrilis near where the magical barrier had been, and he was already beginning his next spell.
Sethin leapt to the side of the corridor to keep from being trapped between the cold warrior and the rejuvenated assassin. Xandax leapt to match, like a wolf stalking a deer. Rushing forward, he caught the bladesinger somewhat by surprise, using his shield to push through the elf-creation's defenses. One of the scimitars slipped past the shield, biting into Xandax's leg, though the pain hardly registered in his state of mind. Slamming his shield to the side, Xandax managed to pin Sethin's other blade against the wall. Ferox was blocked by the other scimitar, as Xandax expected, but he shifted his weight quickly and brought his helmmed forehead crashing into Sethin's face.
The clone spun out of the predicament with uncanny agility and speed, seemingly unfazed, though a red welt covered his nose one eye. Blood began to trickle from his nose. Sethin's heart beat faster for the first time with something other than adrenaline.
The thing could bleed.
Rail and Xandax nodded to each other, and in silent unison they began to circle their deadly foe.
* * *
All okay with this. Please continue the battle, anyone (especially Xandax or Fas). Xandax and Rail in close combat with Sethin. Fas within striking distance by spell or hammer. Aerie (very hi level cleric and mage!) is near completion of next effect but back up the hall past Fas. Thryn recovered now (?) and enter where you see fit. Just make sure Sethin escaped (but by the skin of his teeth, if you want.
And with the pieces of the Crown.)Matti Il-Amin, Paladin, comedian, and expert adventurer. Proudly bearing the colors of the [url="http://www.svelmoe.dk/blade/index.htm"]Blades of the Banshee[/url]
Outside the tower, Calahan stood wondering what to do. Moments ago he had watched the others disappear into the tower, after that little devil elf he supposed. He felt the walls. Cold and solid. He jumped back as he saw it pulsate with his touch. Damn mages. Couldn’t even use normal building materials, for Tempus’s sake! He still had no clue how they got in. He’d looked all around, and there wasn’t a door anywhere.
He spotted one of Magus’s shadow creatures nearby. “Hey you! What in the Hells is going on?” It floated by, not even sparing him a glance. “Hey! Get back here!” He grabbed for it...and caught nothing. Splendid. He looked at his halberd, wondering if he should risk a jab. Then again, that was all he needed, having a swarm of these things howling for his blood...
-Leave us be, mortal.- Another one of the creatures appeared in front of him. He recognized it as the mage’s familiar. How did he know that? Boy, this creepy place was getting to him.
“Where’s Magus? I want out of here.”
The thing’s eyes flared dangerously. –Silence, fool!- It paused, the light gradually fading. –A barrier has been erected around this place. None may leave-
“What? Why?”
-It’s not our doing, stupid human, and neither is it our concern. Let the powers fight it out, but we are through with this. Look, even now the final card is played-
Calahan followed its gaze to the broken wizard lying dead on the ground, victim of Magus’s tremendous blast. Lazal, the one behind the whole guild crisis in the first place. All that power, that ambition, come to naught. In the end, he was just another casualty, backstabbed by that whore, Fate. Noble or common, powerful or weak, crafty or foolish, she got them all in the end.
“Yes, a nice little corpse. You have a point?”
-Watch-
Rolling his eyes, he grudgingly abided. What he saw sent a shiver down his spine. The wizard’s hand clenched. His eyes flew open. Slowly he got his feet, staring directly at the tower. He began to walk towards it, haltingly at first, then with increasing assurance. His eyes glowed crimson, and he lifted off the ground, streaking to the tower to claim what was rightfully his.
* * * * *
@all: Escape? There is no escape...for anyone.
BTW, I just had to delete a significant part of my post to fit with Rail’s new post! Oh well <sigh>
@Xandax: If you didn’t already, you really should read what you missed. Otherwise the whole ending will make no sense whatsoever.
[ 12-30-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
He spotted one of Magus’s shadow creatures nearby. “Hey you! What in the Hells is going on?” It floated by, not even sparing him a glance. “Hey! Get back here!” He grabbed for it...and caught nothing. Splendid. He looked at his halberd, wondering if he should risk a jab. Then again, that was all he needed, having a swarm of these things howling for his blood...
-Leave us be, mortal.- Another one of the creatures appeared in front of him. He recognized it as the mage’s familiar. How did he know that? Boy, this creepy place was getting to him.
“Where’s Magus? I want out of here.”
The thing’s eyes flared dangerously. –Silence, fool!- It paused, the light gradually fading. –A barrier has been erected around this place. None may leave-
“What? Why?”
-It’s not our doing, stupid human, and neither is it our concern. Let the powers fight it out, but we are through with this. Look, even now the final card is played-
Calahan followed its gaze to the broken wizard lying dead on the ground, victim of Magus’s tremendous blast. Lazal, the one behind the whole guild crisis in the first place. All that power, that ambition, come to naught. In the end, he was just another casualty, backstabbed by that whore, Fate. Noble or common, powerful or weak, crafty or foolish, she got them all in the end.
“Yes, a nice little corpse. You have a point?”
-Watch-
Rolling his eyes, he grudgingly abided. What he saw sent a shiver down his spine. The wizard’s hand clenched. His eyes flew open. Slowly he got his feet, staring directly at the tower. He began to walk towards it, haltingly at first, then with increasing assurance. His eyes glowed crimson, and he lifted off the ground, streaking to the tower to claim what was rightfully his.
* * * * *
@all: Escape? There is no escape...for anyone.
BTW, I just had to delete a significant part of my post to fit with Rail’s new post! Oh well <sigh>
@Xandax: If you didn’t already, you really should read what you missed. Otherwise the whole ending will make no sense whatsoever.
[ 12-30-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
@Magus- sorry to make things difficult. Usually I'm the one who's too slow and has to modify his post to fit what those faster than me have written.
Usually I'm the one who's too slow and has to modify his post to fit what those faster than me have written. Matti Il-Amin, Paladin, comedian, and expert adventurer. Proudly bearing the colors of the [url="http://www.svelmoe.dk/blade/index.htm"]Blades of the Banshee[/url]
“Nicely done, clone. Give me the pieces.”
The battle suddenly ceased. None of them could believe their ears, even Sethin. They looked up to regard Lazal, his torn robes whipping about him as he hovered above them, just out of reach. His eyes shined blood red as he locked eyes with his servant.
* * * * *
@all: I'm going to bed, so don't expect me for another eight hours or so
The battle suddenly ceased. None of them could believe their ears, even Sethin. They looked up to regard Lazal, his torn robes whipping about him as he hovered above them, just out of reach. His eyes shined blood red as he locked eyes with his servant.
* * * * *
@all: I'm going to bed, so don't expect me for another eight hours or so
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?