C1 RacksomAnd then, there was War(5th Board)

Pain. That was the first thing that Vann felt when he finally managed to get a hole in the scaly woman's side. Not triumph or relief at seeing the blasted creature finally bleed, but mind numbing body crippling and utterly blinding pain. Though it was a disharmonious symbiotic relationship at best, the Voices were still an integral part of Vann's being and if they suffered, he suffered in turn. A ragged tortured cry left his throat as the Voices came under attack by the strong holy magic and he balked visibly, nearly dropping his sword and almost loosing his footing, clapping a hand to his forehead in an attempt to relieve the intense pain.

The Voice screamed with fury and outrage at being defeated at their own game, withdrawing quickly from the blinding light, taking shelter in the recesses of Vann's mind. They had suffered the blow directly, and were far more wary of this scaled woman's powers now. Not only that, they were angry. How dare she try and remove them from their host? The repetitive thought of How dare she?! echoed as a powerful chant within Vann's head, becoming a mindless mantra, a call to battle. They were gathering their strength now, pooling all of their resources with a single goal in mind: the destruction of the one that had hurt them. But vengeance would have to wait.

Incapacitated as he was by the head-splitting pain, Vann took the blast of chaotic energy in his side directly. He didn't even see the magic coming and was surprised when he hit the ground hard, thrown on his side by the force of it. The energy crackled around his prone body, a distinct burning sensation originating on the bottom of his rib cage beginning to throb painfully. At least it hadn't been a boot, or else he would probably have to worry about a broken rib instead of a magical malady. But the chaotic beam wasn't all bad on his end. The spirits, licking their wounds and growling, gave a horrible laugh at the chaotic magic washed over them. If holy energy was their bane, then chaos was their strength. It invigorated them, gave them strength and put power behind their will. When Vann opened his eyes again to look up at the dragon-woman, his normally blue eyes flashed a brilliant red. The possession of the spirits was in full now. His blood was humming in his veins, adrenalin running so high that it was easy to forget the throbbing pain in his side that the freezing chill on his boot.

With a chuckle Vann gathered himself up, standing once more on steady legs and swung his sword in a flourish. There was simply no time to waste anymore. He had an advantage now with the creature wounded and himself impervious to pain, and he needed to take it. Rushing forward almost recklessly, he swung at the woman with a broad stroke of his sword from left to right, the momentum carrying him around to perform a second backhanded swing diagonally. "Your mistake, woman." He hissed, coming closer than he ever would have dared with a normal opponent to try and hit the woman, the memory of her illusion fresh in his mind. "It wasn't personal before, but you've just made it personal. We will see you bleed." Vann's deeper male voice had been overlaid now by the hissing of female voices, the strange noise that several voices made together uneasy even to his own ears. But, control was long out of the host's hands. The Voices had made this their personal battle, and Vann was their instrument of destruction. They existed solely for vengeance, and that's what they were best it. "What does your blood taste like, we wonder?" A grin and another stab. They weren't playing around anymore, any pretenses of curiosity now turned to a simmering anger that was evident in the way that Vann's sword strokes became less powerful and quicker, relying on both hands to swing and keep the creature on the defensive, pressing any advantage they could find.

Kagan's heart began the cancan with his bladder as the dragon lifted off, and he frantically scrambled for a hold until his arms wrapped around the great beast's neck. Tears formed in his eyes, and his pipe, his most treasured possession, flew out of his mouth, to forever be lost under trampling feet and death. And here Kagan was thinking that a take-off would be a calm, graceful thing. When the dragon finally ceased ascending and looked back at him, Kagan gave him the meanest, most gruesome grimace he had ever made. "Okay? You ever do this before!? D'you say 'no'? 'Cus that's the answer you alligator!" Kagan bounced and moved with the dragon's flight as it pointed out the 'Guardian', frowning and looking ready to lose what food he had. "Yeah, hard to miss."

Kagan looked down over the field after that, the queasiness growing until Kagan noticed a minor flaw in their defenses: The gate was open. Ass Kagan scanned around, he spotted a man on a horse blow a horn, bone by the look of it, and shout his order. His eyes widened, knowing full well that such a blow would affect them greatly. But that one act gave Kagan all the information he needed: The man was high-ranked in this battle, perhaps even that Zartear man who was the cause of all of this. Kagan's dragon was still flying, and Kagan watched multiple battles begin, be interrupted, and renew themselves. Zartear himself was being attacked by a man with wings, probably an Avian by the looks of it, and finally decided on a classic battle strategy: Take out the leader.

Kagan patted the dragon's side roughly with one hand, gripping his dagger tightly in his hand. "See the guy over there? With wings? Git me over there, and watch my back while I fight!" Of course, he was sad that he would have to stop riding dragonback to fight that man... actually, no he wouldn't, he would've been glad to jump off right then and there, if it wouldn't end in Kagan losing his third D.

Last edited by Taj on Wed Nov 17, 2010 10:15 pm; edited 1 time in total

This night seemed to drag on forever. The crisp winds that normally calmed his soul were stirring something dangerous within him; for he was no longer human. In fact, Felren had not been human for as long as he could remember. Long ago he had been kidnapped from his home by some sort of dragon cult. They had worshiped dragons more than anything and went to extremes to prove their loyalty to their supposed gods. After they had taken him a ceremony of sorts took place where they inscribed thousands of tribal markings over his entire body. There wasn’t much of his skin left unmarked by the unholy cult and to make matters worse, the ink that had been practically burned into his body was composed of dragon’s blood. The blood of a Tribal battle-blood dragon that the cult had a particular liking to. They had found the dragon near death and made quick use of whatever parts of the dragon they could get a hold of, including the blood. This breed was their shining jewel that the loved yet feared more than anything on Earth. And who said you couldn’t rule out of fear?

The blood that was on his skin not only marked him for life but changed it forever; the blood had entered his own bloodstream and quiet literally taken over. He quickly grew a small set of horns atop his head and his once brown hair was stripped of its pigments, leaving him with silvery locks. Felren’s appearance wasn’t the only thing that had changed that night. He now had a split personality, though for the majority of the time the dragon blood was too strong for Felren to overcome and he was forced to do its bidding. The conscious of the dragon was even stronger when tides of war were about, the violence and bloodshed give new vigor to the dragon and it just loved to get Felren involved to feel the bite of his blade into someone’s soft flesh.

Despite pretty much losing himself, there were some benefits that came with the dragon’s blood. Felren might not be human any longer but he had inherited some of the dragon’s powers, one of them being fire breathing. Felren smiled as he recalled the memory of when he first discovered this power on his own; he had nearly burned down an entire forest and he was pretty sure he had a burn on his nose from a rogue flame. He also grained enormous strength, improved eye sight, speed and even an extended life. What life he did have, anyway.

The time Felren to himself without the dragon beating down on him to go kill things were normally spent alone in solitude. Any little thing could trigger the beast to rise to the surface and Felren, himself, wasn’t a stone cold killer. Over the years he had gotten used to waking up to find blood covering his clothing and hands, or even a dead body or two at his feet.

But that was enough time to reminisce about the past, currently the dragon was fighting Felren for consciousness to go and join the ranks of battle, to make its mark in history once again. “No…” Felren moaned as he curled himself on the cold floor the cave he had made his home for the time being. The markings on his body caused a searing white hot pain that coursed through his body before he fell into darkness. “We’ve no part in this war, dragon…” He growled between gritted teeth, as another wave of pain racked his body. Felren knew it was easier, less painful to let the dragon have it way but this war reeked death and violence. And no doubt with him in the mix, it would only get worse. But, Felren did, as he always would, lose to the dragon and its conscious was brought forth. Felren’s eyes went from a soft lavender color to a blood red, and a devilish smirk hovered on his face. “I don’t see why you struggle so hard, pathetic human, you only make it harder on yourself.” He hissed and stepped into the cool night air. “I think it high time we paid this, Zartear a visit.” And with that, he was gone from the cave, making his way onto the battlefield. Felren was now in his groove, nothing but war made him come to life like this and he could never get enough. “Let humans war until the end of ages…” He said with a grin as he circled around the battle.

It seemed to be in full swing now, but he didn’t care much about the lowly deaths of humans, the forces outside the walls seemed great but there was a small problem. There was a guardian dragon here. Felren hissed in displeasure. Those goodie dragons saying they were ‘defending’ the land, bull crap. Felren might have been stuck in this half useless lump of flesh but he wasn’t about to let his war go by without him in it. Slinking past the fighting men, Felren found his man and knew it the exact moment he laid his ruby red eyes on Zartear. The man blew a loud sounding horn for his troops to move forward. Felren wasn’t about to become part of the army, but this man looked interesting to him. Leaping from his position, and drawing his sword he cut down several men as he swiftly made his way to the leader. Blood coated his hands and he grew even more excited, this was marvelous.

Seeing a few men nearing Zartear, Felren thought it high time to warm his throat and taking his side near the man he let lose the fire made deep in the pit of his stomach. He burned all those in front of him to a crisp and watching with amusement as those still alive ran in circles screaming as scents of their charred flesh filled the air. Once he was done, he looked to Zartear and let the grin keep on his face. “Zartear, I presume? I’ve come to play my part in this war.”

“Nope, never done it in my life!” Rilos cried, excitement piercing his voice. “Seriously, if you keep bouncing around like that, you’re going to fall off.” He looked down at the ground far below, trying to find a suitable target that wasn’t being attacked from all sides. The moon shone periodically through the clouds above, lighting the city and the battles going on within it, the armour of those fighting glinting with the cold light.

Rilos felt a pat on his neck, and he twisted his head back to hear Kagan’s words.
“I’ll fly you over there all right, but I’ll only watch your back if you watch mine!” he laughed, dropping through the air to a lower level. “Wait a minute… There’s more than just fighting going on down there…” The spine spike dragon had picked out Atleon tied to the huge dragon on the ground, and when there was a prisoner tied up in the ranks of the enemy, that was never good. “Okay, we’re going down! I’ll try to free that prisoner they’ve got tied up, but that’s a pretty big dragon he’s tied to, so I’m going to need your help. Up for doing some rescuing?” Rilos knew it was foolhardly, but they couldn’t just leave that poor human tied- literally- to the stake like that!

As he dived through the air hitting almost vertical, he yelled one more time: “And we’re going stealth mode, don’t breathe in for a minute!” Rilos sucked in his breath, then blew out a great puff of smoke that enveloped the dragon and goblin. As it rolled off his body, the bright blue, green and purple markings on his body faded to black, and the dragon blended in perfectly with the black of the night.

((Static’s also up for a fight partner, anyone wanting from the DDR!))

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Kevvs' gaze narrowed suddenly. She could feel the sharp increase in energy in his body, The spirits sseeming outraged over what she had done. Although she knew this was going to happen. But not to this degree. Hearing his tone of voice change and things too.... She flicked her tail softly. Debating... but she gave a sigh. "Hmm...." She snarled suddenly and casted, a blast wave roiling from her, blowing him back. Followed by more cold around his feet, freezing him to the ground temporarily once more. Kevv needed a few seconds, and she was going to get it. She hadnt wanted to do this at all. It could leave her vulnerable later.... but... perhaps she would get far enough away, so she wouldnt be found once it ended. However she wasnt too hopeful on it for the moment.

Her eyes narrowed, her body quivered. Feeling the searing rage begin to coarse through her body.... "You want to taste MY Blood? You have to prey I do not Devour you whole first." She snarled. Her voice deepening to a feral snarl. Her soft, and bright colored scales beginning to change in color. Her anatomy changing slightly as well.... she began to grow more muscular, and taller. Her hearts pounded in her chest, her blood began to sear with heat.... Her scales hardened and plated, and blackened. Her form going from female to very male as well. He snarled, his gentle gaze now hard and a sharp green. The staff seemed to shimmer, rather splitting to become two very large swords. It was like this beast dual-weilded claymores...... The robe shifted and shimmered on him too. Becoming very thick platemail. It was a few inches thick in places in fact, not gonig to be something anyone was going to just stab through. He stood tall suddenly, the changing finished. Spines rippled along his back, holes were in the plate to make the spines stick out right. Rather the peaceful magics that had existed before with Kevv, were changed a bit. Although the curren spells were still upheld, the elementals and the buff to the defenders, but now his rage just strengthened and seared. It was a poison, rippling all throug his body and blood.... He twirled the huge swords in his hands, them like toy swords almost to him. Despite their weight to others... Kevvx could hold much more then most anyone else could.

Kevvx narrowed his gaze on Vann suddenly, growling and licking his chops. His thick tail twitched as he suddenly rushed for him too. "Destruction is upon you!!" He snarled, suddenly taking to a very furious offensive.... Kevvx did not sit back and cast spells at all. Those big swords began to swing for Vann very quickly, the rage easily fel off this anthro-dragon.... It was a dominant force in him, driving him hard. Both very harmful and very helpful at once.... Although Kevvx slashed what seemed wildly with the two huge swords, his strikes were precise too. Knowing where to hit to do the most damage.... He didn't care about his armor, Kevvx would crush it almost easily with a couple strikes. His tail swung around at Vanns' legs too, growling and swinging for Vanns' shoulder with a sword at the same tom, the other blade going for a leg. Kevvx liked to sever limbs.... Liked leaving the opponent wide open and defenseless ebfore destroying them, eating them... Kevvx might be driven to help the good side right then, but he could be one dark and horrid creature.... Vann was in his sight though, Kevvx knew he had to destroy this one, plus the other, once she was no longer a turtle.... it would be done.

His world was flipped upside down and with a great whoosh all of the air in his lungs left his body. Gasping for breath, an uncomfortable chill settled over his lower extremities again, and looking down, he saw that his feet had been encased in ice. With a growl of rage, he began to struggle free of the frozen water around his feet. Just as he managed to get his left foot kicked free of the ice, the movement of the scaled-woman caught his attention. He though that maybe she would have taken his helpless state as an advantage and tried to come and kill him. That's certainly what he would have done in her position. But no, something else entirely was going on, and before his eyes, he watched with morbid fascination as the scaled woman became a rather terrifying scaled man. The Voices hissed in displeasure, bolstering their courage and getting their host to his feet before the raging reptile came swinging for him. Vann raised his sword once to block one of the oncoming swords that came for his head, but only once. Even empowered by the strength that the Voices were supplying him, the blow jarred his sword arm so badly that it felt numb.

Switching grips, Vann began a quick backpedal, all the ground he had gained pushing back the female version quickly lost under the male version's deadly assault until they were right back where they started, passing by turtle/Deos and kept going. Vann parried as best he could, dodged when he couldn't, and didn't dare anything so rash as trying a full-on block of the deadly claymores. Already, his sword was dented and scratched from parrying the dual swords, and with an ear-splitting screech, the tip of one ran the length of his chest plate, gouging deeply into the metal but not piercing skin just yet. Damn!

"We should have known you were really a man!" The voices hissed, unwilling to back down from the challenge even though it was incredibly obvious that they were out-matched, even with all of the strength their combined forces could give to their host. It was do or die time now, and they certainly weren't in the mood for dying... again.

Switching tactics, Vann retreated a fair ways and loosened his muscles, moving fluidly around the blows in an exasperating parody of the way that the female scaled being had been before when strength and physical skill had been on his side. Once or twice he nearly got decapitated, and there was a new gash that bled freely on his left cheek accompanied by a dent in his shoulder plate, but he kept out of range of those deadly swinging swords. This new being had incredible reach, something that Vann with his hand-and-a-half sword couldn't hope to match. He had to wait, bide his time and find a weapons that could substitute for his shorter range and lesser strength. A nice metal lance would have been nice, but so far, he hadn't seen any lingering on the ramparts.

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It really was terrible being a turtle. She felt so heavy and incredibly apathetic. Trying to walk was tiring carrying all of the weight of her shell on her back, so Deos had simply decided to not try anymore. With her legs and head tucked into her shell, she watched what she could see of the battle, which was mostly the fight between Vann and the scaled dragon-woman that they had begun attacking. Occasionally she could look up and see a dragon flying over head, but that was hardly news. Half of the dragons in Dragons Cove had probably shown up for this nonsense. And here she was, missing all of it because she was a turtle. Just as she was wondering if there would be any way to effectively communicate to a wizard that she wasn't really a turtle to get her transformed back into a woman, she felt an unsettling pull on her body. It was slow at first, the magic that had bound her body in a shell started coming undone at the seams, and then in a whoosh of magic, Deos was again a woman. Only, she still wasn't clothed, and was sitting blinking with sensitive eyes on the stone floor of the ramparts.

With a dark curse, she scrambled for her clothing, putting on her small-clothes first and then the bare minimum of coverage to get everything in place. It was embarrassing to be so little clothed, but the fact of it was that she simply didn't have the time to mess with her overcoat and sword belt. Grabbing up the weapon, Deos looked up just in time to see Vann dodge a startlingly close call and have a few hairs removed from the top of his head. It didn't take a brilliant mind like hers to see that he was incredibly out-matched by this new foe. Scrambling to her feet, Deos looked around for something to distract them with... really anything at all would have been good, but one thing was for certain, she was not getting tangled up with that scaly mess. If Vann was having a hard time, then she certainly would be dead. She had skills and speed, but not much in the way of strength, and in their battle, that's all that seemed to matter.

She found the flight of stairs that she and Vann had taken on the way up to the ramparts and quickly ran down them, the echo of battle sounding in her ears as the fight for Racksom continued at its bloody pace. There was mass chaos at the gate, with Zartear having lead a small force into the city and some of that said force having retreated. There were more dragons here now, and the scent of charred flesh nearly made her gag, the scent so strong. She began searching the downed horsemen for weapons, some of them chared to death by dragon flame, and other slit open by what appeared to be a sword. Among the chaos, she went practically unnoticed. "Bow, bow, sword, bow, dagger, sword..." Talking to herself as she sorted through the weapons looking for something useful. Finally, half buried under the body of a soldier, she found a long pike. With a strong tug, she pulled it out from underneath the dead owner and headed back up the stairs to the ramparts where Vann was in full flight.

"Vann!" She called, and then heaved with all of her might, sending the weapon soaring through the air. It wasn't exactly a javelin, so sank faster than she thought it would, but it clattered to the stones just a little past the dragon-man's feet straight between his legs and slid to Vann.

With an expert maneuver, Vann rolled the shaft of the lance over the top of his foot and kicked it into the grip of his left hand. With a grin, he sheathed his battered sword and put both hands on the shaft of the pike, stabbing it forward experimentally. "Can't let you have all the fun you ugly lizard."

Guest

Kevvxs' heart pounded so fast and hard, his blood just boiling hotly. His body far over the temperature of any normal dragon typically. He kept upon his foe, swinging again and again, seeming wildly, yet the swings had precision, aiming for where Kevvx knew arteries resided that flowed to the heart, and where vital veins laid as well. A controlled frenzy one could call it. He was rampant yes. Yet he had awareness enough to keep tactics and not jsut berserk completely. His powerful muscles flexed and pumped, swinging again and again, keeping total pressur on Vann. not going to give him much time to think or react at all. Kevvx knew Pressure was a humans' worst enemy typically. Especially going against something like himself. Thus he was not giving an inch. Keeping on him, swinging again and again with the powerful, heavy claymores like they were lightweight training blades. Him moving so quickly in that very heavy armor, it seeming like normal clothing to him.

Although his lips curved in a grin, hearing the voices speak. He cackled a bit, swinging the blade at Vanns' side, near where his kidney rested. "Foolish wispy spirits... im no man. Im no woman. Im the fierceness in between!" He snarled. "Im whatever I choose to be... today, the Fury that shall destroy the vile night!" He roared, filled with a powerful vigor as he swung even harder then ebfore, his blood rushing, boiling.... the scent of the humans' blood as strong in his nose, deepening his bloodlust and powerful desire for decimation. Swinging powerfull again and again, quick and unrelenting in his strikes. The more he fought and raged the stronger he seemed to get almost, the rage so powerful in his mind, burning in his body to an extreme extent... Kevvx knew onc ehe reverted to Kevv, it was going to hurt.... Kevv was liekly going to ave to hide away once he reverted, simply the poisonous rage was going to do her so much harm in her body for awhile. But for now Kevvx was going to wreak havoc on this being who dared to try and do him harm, or do Kevv harm... He would pay. His thick tail swung around at his head, wanting to knock him for a loop....

Although once he pikce dup a pike Kevvx laughed a bit. "Ive seen mosquitos that could do more damage." He growled. Oh running right for him again too, not fearing the pike. The odds it could pierce his armor in a place he would regret was so small.... He swung powerfully, this time right for his neck, right at the Jugular too. The other sword came for his leg, wanting to sever it. His tail swung for his shoulder again too. Kevvx swinging for so much at once, seeming without care of injury to himself... so reckless and yet so precise, knowing whaen to dodge and parry, but for his fighting style, he rarely had to defend. Indeed wanting to see this human destroyed, wanting the scent of blood to strengthen his senses even more.....

That dangerous tail whooshed over his head with deadly grace, and if it weren't for fast and improved reflexes, Vann would have found himself sprawled out on the rampart floor unconscious. As it was, he was in an awkward position, and only the long reach he could afford with the pike kept him from having his left arm severed off. Instead, he came away with a more dented and scratched armor, bruised, but not broken. The bastard just kept coming, and showed no sign of slowing! How was it that this creature could summon all those creatures, blast him around and freeze his feet, and still swing like a demon straight from the mouth of hell? It was aggravating, which made the Voices even more furious and push themselves to their limits. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Vann realized that if he came out of this alive, he would be passed out in some nook for a week to recover from all the energy expended during this fight.

And then things went real bad, real fast.

There was a split second of indecision, to jump, or parry? His head, or his legs? Thrusting with his pike, Van leapt up and backward, clearing the swinging sword that would have otherwise cut his legs in twain, using the pike to try and deflect the blow. If he could get the edge turned away from his flesh, it wouldn't be a fatal wound. A blow to the side of the face with the flat of a blade was better than being slashed across the neck, after all. Then, something unexpected happened. The pike shattered. Vann felt the weapon give in his hands, had less than a second to try and compensate for the broken weapon, but by then it was all too late.

Crimson spray arched into the air from his slashed jugular. His feet hit the ground, but limply, and he fell like a lifeless sack onto the stone floor, the broken pike clattering out of his hands noisily and rolling away from him. Blood bubbled at the slit in his throat as the dead man tried to draw breath, but breath would not fill his lungs. His mind was already leaving as blood pooled around him in an ever-increasing circle. The Voices, fairly spitting in rage at their lost host were leaving him, and for the first time in years, he was alone. Truly and very well alone. His mind was his own, no more insidious whispering to drive him mad or goad him on to kill some innocent man. He was alone. There was silence.

And he smiled.

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Deos screamed in rage as she saw Vann go down, the blood spurting from his neck a sure indication of a fatal blow. She wasn't angry that he was dead specifically, more angry that she had lost a very valuable fighter to this nigh unbeatable creature. Nothing had worked against it, not even Vann's superior swordsmanship and unnatural help during a fight. And what did his death have to show for it all? A measly cut in the side of the bloody creature, who appeared to not even notice that it was bleeding like a stuck pig. Damned bloody luck.

She didn't stick around to see if the scaly lizard would turn for her next. She fled back down the rampart stairs and into the throng of battle, weaving her way through the mess and dodging or deflecting shots from random attackers as she went. There was no looking back, for half of her feared that if she so much as turned to see if the creature was following after her, it would catch up. She would simply find somewhere to lay low for a little bit and get out of the eye of danger... or, take the opportunity to steal a horse and make herself useful.

With all possible speed, she fairly leapt into the saddle of an abandoned horse, the startled creature rearing with the new weight on its back, but she kept her seat and guided the frightened animal deeper into the city where the sounds of battle were strongest. There were traces of dragon fire here, the acrid stench of burning flesh strong in the narrow alley ways. Her horse was skittish, not exactly a fully-trained war horse, but it got her through the houses and into a more open area where she could get a full view of what sort of chaos had taken over the city.

Guest

Kevvx snarled once he was done the swinging. He smelled the heavy scent of the blood that spewed from the severed head... He roared in fury and triumph, heat radiating off of him even more fierce then before. "Come back when youre really to actually FIGHT!" He shuted in trioumph. Seeing the other human flee.... He laughed simply. He ran a bit, slashing any surahnians in the way too. His huge swords going through them like a knife through soft butter. So little effort.... He still had a few more things he had to do and he kenw it. It was going to be hell though, he knew he couldnt keep in this form too much longer, lest he risked making his main form pasing out. Which Kevv didnt want to be unconscious here at all. If KEvv fell unconscious here... well he kenw itd be disastroush. Rather he took to hiding in between and behind buildings soon enough.

He began to revert in shape.... Going from muscular and so solid back to just being fit and lean. The plate turning to cloth again, the huge claymores becomign her staff as she went from the huge male form, back to being just Kevv. although once revered Kevv doubled over, choking a bit and rather vomiting up a black substance.. it boiled where it landed. She shook her head, indeed weary. but she had to keep going, there was still things to do. She was alot more fragile then earlier though. Kevv jsut kept hidden for the moment. Beginning to summon up more elementals rather. This time though they were being set to protect something there.... it had to be done. Kevv was sure she would ahve to flee ehre soon. Her energy was going to wane with the poisonous rage still in her liek this. Although it did not helpthis form, it hurt it. Causing her body to pain and shiver....

Kevv casted fiercely from where she stood. a big series of strange elementals filled the place.. well there was a powerful artifact in the room, and Kevv was pretty sure it being found would be devastating. Thus KEvv was going to do her damndest to protect it. A barrier followed, warding anyone from the room simply, none could go in, none could leave. Not until she lowered the barroer anyway. The elementals were still in the room, just waiting simply. Big golems and odd revenants of varying shapes, sizes and elements, ready to defend with their lives and powers. Kevv then shook her head a bit. "Ive used... too much." she muttered. Her vision blurring a bit... She blinked, slinking into a building she felt no one in. She sat down, beginning to just recharge herself. This was going to take time buuut who was going to come into this place?

The distant battle shouts of the fierce war between the defenders of Dragon’s Cove and the Surahnian rebels who were all fighting over the city of Racksom were carrying further and further, and the longer the battle raged, the louder the clashing of the two armies became, until the noise finally reached the ears of a specifically dark dragon. It was a dragon so deeply evil down to its very core that very few have survived to tell the tale of such a dangerous, yet so beautiful animal. The tribal battleblood was an object of fiction for most, a story told to scare little children, alas, there is a little bit of truth in every lie, a little bit of truth in every fairy tale. Yet, no story that had ever been told about the tribal battleblood could truly do this dragon’s nature justice. However, there were also those that worshipped this rare dragon breed, those that did not know what they were really dealing with and thought he was a god of some kind.

The tribal battleblood was now awaking from the deep slumber he had been in for quite a long time, lured back by the blood boiling in his veins as it was being stirred by the cry for war. With the opening of his eyes came the desire for blood and pain, for chaos, panic and devastation; short, for war. He let a deep roar sound as he lifted his head, looking towards Racksom where the batte was being waged. His time had finally come again, he could do what he did best. With yet another roar of satisfaction, the tribal battleblood lifted his huge body up from the ground. Stretching his powerful wings, he was silently gliding through the dark night, invisible bar the tribal runes that seemed to be inked into his scales with blood, now pulsating in anticipation of what was about to come.

As the tribal battleblood came up behind Racksom, his whole body was vibrating as if encased by an aura of bloodlust, ready for battle, ready to take down anything and anyone in his path. A deep growl erupted from his throat as his large wings carried him over the walls of Racksom, casting a dark shadow over the scenery beneath him as his imposing body momentarily seemed to block out the scarce moonlight, obscuring the already dark night even further. The burning fires all through Racksom, caused by flame arrows of the attacking army, were casting flickery images over his body, highlighting the bloodred tribal runes spread over his skin. With every beating of his wings over the city, he was feeding the fires already burning brightly, making them spread out further, the first few houses already lying in ruins, having fallen to the flames. His eyes were glittering with the need for war as he threw himself into the heart of the battle, ready to wreck havoc. With a fierce growl, he let out a jet of flames as soon as he encountered a few battling dragons, immediately moving on to pick a few two-legged ones from the walls with his claws, before he dove into army on the ground, growlinlg and breathing fire, taking down a few rows of warriors and archers as he went along. The tribal battleblood did not care for sides; he only cared about his need, his desire to do battle. The joy he felt with every cry of pain, with every clashing of weapons or claws and teeth he heard was sending wave after wave of satisfaction through his body, but it would never be enough to fully satisfy his needs. The tribal battleblood would never be fully sated no matter how much death and decay was spread, no matter how much blood was spilled. It was a lifelong search for the ultimate fulfilling of desire, a quest that would never end, yet he would never give up on it. His life was war and he had come to do what he did best: create chaos, panic and destruction.

Xaoc had arisen.

Last edited by Artemis on Fri Dec 03, 2010 8:11 pm; edited 2 times in total

Yet another loud flapping of wings caused Armeno to look up from where he was yelling after Cato- mostly things about him being a coward. The horse splattered blood on the ground where it went, and Armeno was sorry for it. Of course damage to the resources of the enemy was better than nothing, but a horse was often more than just a resource and it had no alliance with the invaders. Sighing, he looked up to see whose side the next dragon was on, and froze.

It wasn't the largest dragon yet, but somehow Armeno knew it was going to be the worst opponent, except maybe the guardian. It had huge wings, claws and teeth, and was black and red all over. The very sight of it screamed that it was built to kill. It let out a blistering jet of flame which was uncomfortable from 300 metres away, and wheeled in the sky. It knocked down rows of fighters from both sides with no care or difficulty, its only purpose seeming to be to kill and destroy. Armeno gaped at it, horrified by its immense power. Already it had cause complete devastation, and it didn't look like stopping. It had to be prevented from continuing. Armeno stood up in his stirrups, Veloxpes tossing his head in agitation at the new arrival.
'Defenders! We must erase this new threat! We will have no chance against it if there aren't many of us! We must come together now and eradicate or at least incapcitate this dragon before it kills us all!' Armeno had a good respect of dragons, but he would not tolerate one losing them the battle. Suddenly things had somehow turned yet again in the invaders' favour.

Rokam and Jaden both swivelled their heads to the sky simultaneously as the black and red dragon cast a shadow over them.
'Xaoc,' they breathe in awed unison, though about 200 metres apart. Rokam suddenly saw somethng in the Battle Blood's eyes, and fled the area. Scorching fire struck where he had been two seconds before, and a stray spark leapt from the blaze and landed on Rokam's tail. He yelped in pain as it burnt away a patch of his thick, leathery skin on the club of his tail, but gritted his teeth and ran over to where Jaden still stared up at Xaoc in wonder.
'Jaden. We need to fight.' Rokam's voice was urgent; he feared for their island and their lives as they knew them- or their lives at all. Jaden nodded and turned away.
'We have no chance against Xaoc. We need to fight somebody who will be beneficial once dead, but not anybody beyond us.' He glanced around the battlefield, and a woman dressed in bright green who seemed unscathed but had a lot of bodies in her general area caught his eye.
'There. Her,' he said, pointing. Rokam nodded, squaring his shoulders, and the two charged forwards. Shadow suddenly fell around the woman's face, and they both went for her midriff with their teeth bared. They couldn't keep up the total darkness over her eyes for the whole duration of the battle, though. They would need to fight hard, if she was actually a threat.

Kumiko crouched on the building, watching the disarray with glee. It was exactly her sort of thing. And there were so many humans! She could spend a decade playing with this bunch. Maybe two. However, she was sure some of them had powers. Sobering slightly, she examined the battlefield. There were obvious defenders and attackers, and nearly everyone was categorisable. But one large black and red dragon was causing absolute chaos and panic, with no regard to which side he attacked. A slow, smug smile spread across her face. This was definitely the way to do it- pandemonium. She certainly respected this dragon's ideas. Perhaps they could have a little talk later. But for now, there was fun to be had.

She was closest to the defenders, so it was them that suffered as ghost tails appeared for an instant as she floated off the roof. Currently, she was supporting telekinetic powers, and she put themto great use. Spears jumped out of their owners hands and plunged themselves deep into the bodies of hose around; anything heavy was liable to pin somebody beneath itself. She gave a childish laugh of sadistic pleasure as she saw the men die. However, she only harmed those untouched by any magic. She didn't want to do any fighting- not yet, anyway. She moved herself along a bit, so she hovered above the battlefield, and checked her power levels. She had another day or two of normal use- but only an hour or so of battle. She sighed. If only her tails never ran low on charge, she would be unstoppable. She gazed lazily down at the scene below and then looked up at the dragon which was causing most of the damage. Propelling herself forwards, she came to a halt by his large black head.
'Hello,' she said, with a little smirk.

Mask supposed that when he’d heard the fighting it might have just a simple little brawl. He was very out of the loop. He really didn’t know much about anything going on in Dragon’s Cove. He tended to pride himself on not knowing anything that was going on. He’s known as mostly a wonderer. He had never given a second thought to any gossip, although, when he came to the edge of the woods, when he saw that there was a huge war, he knew that the little bits of talk that he heard were entirely true. He also knew, just by the looks of things, just who were the good guys, and who the bad guys were. It wasn’t all that hard. Racksom was under attack, and it would seem like they weren’t doing all that well. Mask sat in the shadows of the woods, watching as the fight changed from side to side. It was normally against his being to just stand around and not do a thing, but somehow, he figured his assistance would be best severed later, and then, there it was.

“Well, well, well,” he said watching as a rider charged through the battle and headed towards the open gate of the city. Seemed he has no care for his horse either, as Mask watched a sword make contact with the creature’s side, and its rider press it forwards. Seemed like someone needed to be taught a lesson. And from the hurry this man was in, he seemed like he was going somewhere important. “Now then, let’s see how much of a hurry you’re in when you’re poor beast can’t move, shall we?” He pulled the reins around on Sorrahkin’s neck, and pressed his legs gently to his horse’s side. The stallion tossed his head and sped through the trees, they were heading towards the open gate. IT was stupid, and reckless, but honestly, Mask didn’t mind all that much. It gave life an interesting bit of adventure to be involved in things like this. He put the reins in one hand, and with his other put the half mask over his face and pulled up the cloth bottom on over his lips and nose. He was going in stealth. Or as stealth as he could manage.

Sorrahkin shot out of the woods; they were ahead of the man on the wounded mare. The sword must have slowed her pace a little bit. Mask grinned behind his mask. Seemed he might actually slip in without a bit of harm. Opps, spoke too soon. “Come on Sorrahkin, jump!” Mask shouted as one of the men in the field wielded a sword at him. His Stallion leapt up into the air, the man’s sword just out of reach of his horse’s stomach. Hoofs hit the ground and the man spun, but he was too slow, as soon as they were out of the air, Sorrahkin was off and running again. It wasn’t long until they were in the city. The sounds of battle just as out inside as out. Then there it was the perfect place. Standing up on the saddle, Mask readied himself and then leapt up; he grabbed the window sill of the house and pulled himself through. It was empty, as he figured it would be, he set himself up, Sorrahkin ducking into a dark ally. He pulled his bow out, and knocked an arrow.

Mask, although set for waiting, didn’t have to wait long. As soon as Cato appeared on his wounded mare, Mask shot. The arrow aimed at the horse the man rode. He let his masked face peer over the window sill; he wanted Cato to see him, or at least his mask. He wanted Cato to know who his attacker was. It might not have been everyone else’s tactic, but Mask liked to do things his way. And this was his way. He was very skilled with a bow, not as skilled with a sword, but only by a little, and he adored his ‘ability’ to escape any fight he couldn’t win. Yes, this might make him a coward, but he would rather live to fight another day, instead of die in vain when his opponent might only kill more that could be avoided. However, he also knew his limits on his ‘ability.’ He could only use it if he absolutely had to, or he was in massive trouble if his opponent caught up with him.

Guest

Kevv sat back in the abandoned little building. Smelling the destruction of many indeed. Dragonfire and burned corpses, blood and death... She just tried to relax herself, to strengthen her magic back up to a manageable level. Rather unlatching something from her side... sipping from a small vial. Feeling her body energize again after a couple minutes. She knew this war was gonna hurt her, if not kill her.... simply she ahd a dark feeling in her heart. Something terrible was going to happen to her. But Kevv didnt know just what yet. She stood however, figuring if it was to be so... she would do her best to stop this invasion. Kevv could definently tell this planet needed quite a bit of help though. Almost sorry for coming here. almost. But she was one to want to help and protect her kind to her last breath. She supposed she was going to need a bit more help then she had supposed. Rather she let a signal from her mind to another. another very, very far away.... Kevv knew it would take some days but... the help she called would come. She couldnt handle all this alone.... thus... she wanted more support.

Kevv soon kicked the door off the building and walked out. Her body hyped, ready for mcuh more rigorous combat... She knew later this was all going to collapse on her, perhaps worse then she thought even. She couldnt shake off the horrible feeling from her mind, something was going to go far wrong for her. Kevv could feel the horrid form of Xaoc flying about. But for now, she didnt deal with him. although she would complicate his progress... She made barriers around some, that well, made them impervious to fire.Mostly the ones around catapults and other war weaponry got this blessing.... although not everyone. Kevv was taking more caution now. She didnt want to get into any more rigorous fighting really. she ahd a few things she wanted to carry out simply. Thus she was going to need subtlety. Though she was pretty sure one or two were going to find her that would take some effort. But for now, Kevv wouldnt worry.

Rather her thoughts traveled to that royal-looking prisoner she had seen upon the dragons' back. She flicke dher tail, casting and freezing a few surahnians quickly.. to sneak past them. She elft them to suffocate in their blocks of ice. But her mind reached far... she wanted to find... the human that had been o the dragon rather. Normally Kevv would avoid a human contact out of nowhere. But this human, for some reason, she wanted to lear a bit from. Plus she felt bad for him truly. She knew he was probably miserable in that situation. She wanted to help.... he seemed royalty and if that was true he didnt ened to be captive like that. She found who her mind sought before long. She casted from where she was, icicles forming over a small squad of Surahnians coming, and well, falling on them too. The icicles were most definently not dull. Her mind touched Atleons as she swept back into a nook, hiding ehr presence. ~Be careful and do nothign rash human.... im making my way slowly there.~ She told him softly. Her vocie melodic and calm, soothing even. Her wanting him to be calm as he could in this dire situation. For well, hastiness and rashness would get him killed.

~~~~

The Warbringer Got the signal.... quickly, a council was drawn to meet. The fifteen Dragons looked between one another. Seeming worried. "She sent me the signal. She needs...assistance...." They nodded a bit. "Very well I say." The Warbringer growled. "I will go myself. This... Dragons' Cove holds my interest ill admit." He told them. "As well as..... I think.... Gorz shall come. I think a good fighter, and healer, wil make things best. Things dont look good in the future for this planet, but you know Kevv is gonna struggle to save it, as she does everything else." He growled. With a nod Kayoss stood. "Let us prepare then... we will leave by morning." He said simply, and the meeting separated with heavy hearts and minds, wondering... what kind of commitment was being made with this.

((Yay for preludes of whats comin. Very Happy

))

Last edited by Monty on Tue Nov 23, 2010 8:02 am; edited 1 time in total

Glimpses of the moon lit up the battlefield as it peered out of the clouds every now and again. The sky was black, the only light came from the big beacon in the sky, and the harsh, red flames from the death and destruction below. The wind had picked up slightly, causing fire to spread, and men from both sides fled as dragons breathed down upon them. A great sense of energy filled Silverwing’s body as he continued to fight from the sky. It was an energy that didn’t come from him, but someone…something else. Normally it wouldn’t have bothered him, since there were indeed many strong beings in the battle. But he seemed to recognise this immense energy, from a past encounter of some sort. His eyes scanned the earth below him, but he couldn’t see anything familiar – or as familiar as he had hoped. When suddenly, the sense that came to him so quickly, vanished. As if it had only been used for a short time, before disappearing. Or transforming into something else. A state that wasn’t as fierce. Something very powerful was on this battlefield, yet it was something he didn’t fear. Images of the being flashed through his head as he delved deep into his past. A woman, a dragon, a staff. That was all he recalled. Was this the creature who controlled these elemental beings that were loose on the battlefield? He shook his head. It would come to him eventually, but now was not the time to dwell upon the past.
Silverwing flapped his giant, silver wings and descended from the sky. Breathing once again, blue fire upon the enemy, who tried as hard as they could to get out of the way. He knew this fight wasn’t anywhere near over, and if he were to give those of Racksom help, he would have to stay in the air for as long as possible. That was, after all, a dragons’ best advantage.

All of a sudden, something caught the corner of his eye. He withdrew his breath from the men below, and turned to look at the sky once more. In the distance a glimpse of red flashed every now and again against the black canvas of the sky.
He narrowed his eyes to get a better view of the…thing. And then it hit him.
He knew exactly what that beast was, a beast that many feared. Those who had seen such a dragon didn’t live to tell the tale. But those who had, wished they hadn’t. This beast was daunting, terrifying to some…most. This was the Tribal Battleblood. Silverwing let a low growl, only audible to a few around, escape from his throat. It was almost certain that the bloodshed and cries of war would bring such a creature out…and it had.

Changing course, he maneuvered his body in the direction of the new dragon. It was still quite a far distance in front of him, and wasn’t facing him, but Silverwing didn’t care. It might even give him an advantage when he attacked. But he also knew that very little could give anyone an advantage over such a terrible beast. Murmurs were already travelling through the war zone as people turned to look in horror at the arrival of the new dragon. A few had even turned to run at it on the ground, like they had a chance of bringing such a creature down when it had only just arrived. No doubt they were tired from fighting. Whereas fighting only made this dragon stronger.
Silverwing let out a roar that was different from the last. This was his battle cry. His silvery body flew through the air, over the men below and headed directly for Xaoc. He knew that for most, attacking this dragon would be suicide, and it might not even be necessary since it didn’t care for sides. But right now, it was doing more destruction to Racksom, than the invading army. And he didn’t even want to take the risk or luring it to the enemy, it would probably be more hassle than it was woth. He just wanted it gone.
As the distance between the two became smaller, the heat increased. It would be bad news if you were a human, but thankfully, he wasn’t.
He noticed a creature rise to the Tribal Battleblood; it’s many tails lifting it up. This was no creature, this was a demon. But that didn’t stop him, when Silverwing was a mere few hundred feet from the red and black dragon, he let out a burst of flames, only to cut them off before he purposely crashed into the beast’s side.

-

Sandy’s sword flew from side to side as she advanced forward. Cutting at men who got in her way. She could only have a guess at how long she could keep this up for, but at the same time, the enemy would tire soon as well. She had been training for this day for she didn’t know how long, and right now, the adrenaline was uncontrollable.
There was a few seconds where everyone around her was in a death battle, and no one was advancing on her. She took this opportunity to catch a quick breath, but it wasn’t long before someone was on her again. The sound of metal clashing as their swords collided. Up to now, she had been somewhat lucky. The only blood upon her, was that from others.
The only real colours on the ground came from the death and destruction. The earth had been painted red in some, if not most areas. But the death of the men only made her angrier. He swords came round faster and more stronger. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one man on horseback cut another down, before he turned to return her gaze. His horse reared before turning to run at her. It was edging onto a full gallop, before Sandy leapt sideways, stabbed her sword into the ground and pushed off from the floor. Her feet connected with the man and he was helpless as he rolled off sideways. Spinning on her heels, she threw herself back into the battle.

Akira paused a moment to look at Tegan critically, “Because he spared my life, and though he may not own my soul he is fighting for the right cause. This island needs a new ruler.” There was a flash of doubt in her eyes but it quickly vanished as she launched herself again striking high with one blade and low with the other so as to make it nearly impossible to block both attacks, though not entirely so.
Mizu leapt into the air flapping his wings hard and rising up to lyrians level before spinning sending his bladed tail swinging around towards Lyrian’s center seeing that he was distracted by a girl on horseback. “I’m I not enough of an opponent?” He growled slightly agitated,
Kono, seeing that he was being ignored let out a stream of flame before rising to rejoin the main army where he again fell into the opposing army’s main force biting off a few heads and slashing at others.

(wow life got in the way. I am sorry this took so long tegan.) Please forgive me Sad

)

Tegan sighed at the girl's words, but she didn't however miss that little flash. "And you would so gladdy throw your freedom away to this Zartear? At least with Atleaon we are offered the choice of freedom. Zartear only wishes to enslave us. Spared or not, I would never fight for someone who wishes only to enslave." Her last words were on an out breath as she swung her one sword up over her head to block one attack and her other around her wraist, spinning. Still, Akira's speed was good, even the elf had to agree with that, as her blade caught just her side, cutting the fabric of her clothing, but missing her skin by inches. She was going to have to be more careful, and speaking of which, she could feel it. In her mind. Strength, speed, hope. She felt it strongly, as it burned through her body. A smirk crossed her face as she opened her link with Lyrian, sharing eachother's trength, and this new buff. Tegan spun completely, throwing one sword forwards sharply while she aimed her other in a downward slash onto the girls shoulder.

Lyrian growled as her attention snapped back to Mizu when she heard the dragon in the air. Her eyes watched him darkly, trying to decide what he planned on doing, and when she saw the spin, her wings beat faster, harder. She felt the bufff that Tegan shared as she dove into the air more, Circling to angle downward again and let loose a jet of her flame towards Mizu's hind quarters. If she could wound his tail, he's only have his fire to use against her. It was a risky shot, but she was willing to take it. "You're not enough of one," she sneered as she cut her flame off. "You're too little of a challange." She was glad to catch the two card dragons that she and Tegan had seen earlier charge the girl in green, seeing as the girl had been charging Lyrian just moments before. Now she could completely focus on her fight with Mizu.

(Tis fine Lasting. ^^ I understand how life can be.)

Rescue? Kagan wondered, as the dragon dove. "Well, I dun know... you sure?" He asked, thinking, Was some prisoner really that important to them? Prisoners were taken all of the time in war, usually for ransoms.... Kagan's eyes quickly scanned the ground, finding the man tied up on the giant dragon's back. "Oh, aye! Le's do it!" Kagan said with a grin. Any prisoner that was displayed like that must be very important to the war. And when you rescue an important an important ally, there is usually quite a reward waiting for you...

Kagan smiled as the dragon dove, still as nausious as ever but filled with determination. This was his chance, he could finally retire and laze his days away! And the only thing between that and him was a man tied up on the back of a gicantic, evil dragon. Easy. And all he had to do now was hold his breath until the smoke shroud cleared. Wait, smoke shroud!? Kagan was blasted by the heat and soot, stunned momentarily. He quickly held his arm in front of his eyes, squinting to check if he could even see. He got used to the heat easily enough, and the smoke was usefull, but dragon smoke was much different from coal or grass smoke, and he wouldn't last more that a minute in it. C'mon, dragon, hurry! I won't last forever in here!

As Cato rode through the gate the mare gave a sudden jerk and went down. The suddenness unsaddled Cato and sent him flying to the ground. Having been unseated before he knew what to do and used the momentum of the fall. He landed in a roll and with the movement he ended up on his feet like any a good fighter. He was ready for anything. He was a seasoned veteran and was ready for anyhting the enemy could throw at him. He looked up to where the arrow came from that had killed the mare. A part of him was sad that the beast was killed but it was war and it happens. Hence why he didn't ride Argento into the thick of battle very often.

His eyes did a quick scan of the rooftops and higher windows. There. He spotted Mask and with an obscene gesture he takes off after Zartear. Up ahead he spots the largest bird he had ever seen land in the road right infront of his Lord. Cursing in every language he knew and used a few words he made up he skids to a halt a few feet behind the riders. The bird was easily two of him tall if not a little more. Grabbing his bow from his back he grabed at a arrow from his hip. He was slightly surprised at the fact that only a few had fallen out and that his bow survived the fall.

Faust looks down at Zartear in silence waiting for the susposed King to make the next move. He shifts his weight from one foot to the next. His talon making scrapping sounds on the cobbled street.

(sorry Faust's post is short but I am waiting on responces to his initial appeanace to zartear)

Mask gave a grin when he saw his opponent land off the dead horse, although he did have to compliment the man’s moves in his fall. But then, shouldn’t anyone trained be able to land on their feet. As the man looked for Mask, he knocked another arrow on his bow, being ready for a fight, but then it would seem the man had other ideas. He gave Mask a gesture that raised his eyebrows as he chuckled a bit. Then he ran off, heading in the direction he had been rushing into before. “Well, well, well, we’re playing like that then?” Mask got up quickly and hanging upside down from the window sill, he pointed his arrow to the man’s back calf. The point was to knock him down running, but Mask didn’t get the chance.

Letting the arrow go, Mask noticed the man had stopped so even if his arrow hit, did it do much good? After all, he made it to his destination, but perhaps the small amount of time Mask wasted would come in handy. Plus, she still wanted a fight with this man, even if he had reached his destination. If his arrow hit its mark, he could be able to limit the man’s ability to get around as fast as he had. Which in the long run would make him a target for later, or now? Whichever came first, honestly, Mask had all night to toy around with him.

Although heavy losses might be incurred from such a rampage into the city from humans and the like caught underneath flames of dragons...hopefully some trickery on his forces part might lead the dragons to thinking twice before making an inferno of them. Afterall, civilians scrabbled through the city, some fleeing, others flinging their useless bodies to the swords of the Surahnians; while some used their immense fear of losing hope as fuel to their battle rage...However it went, friendly fire was something most tried to avoid.

The soldiers slowly but surely were seeping in through this back entrance, Zartear even amidst defending himself from almost every angle silently grinned; such good omens that the oracle had given and they had come true!
Though whom exactly had carried this out for him was a mystery...

A bone-rattling roar fell from the sky and shook the nerves of everybody about him; swinging his horse round the twists of Racksom adeptly he allowed himself a glance upwards. Another stroke of luck had graced the Surahnians, the DDC had their guardian dragon...but a hell of it's own had descended on the city and now was entangled tooth and claw with the guardian, so long as it stayed occupied with the Guardian Zartear knew he could use this to his advantage.

"East flank advance down the central street, west and center follow my lead!" And so they did, but it wasn't long before something had swooped down in front of his group, quite majestically too.
It was...pea-cock like...but not. Mostly because it was huge in every sense of the word.
But then, as if on perfect cue Zartear's appointed Bow Master appeared; Cato.
Pleased to see that the men seemed to pool around the two of them, they seemed to be pulling back their morale in the mere presense of leadership... to then fight the bird in front. Although the most of the cavalry specialized up close, they now turned to their bows (even if not as effective) the closest ones to the bird now charging, lances held high to attempt to skewer the giant-bird.

Zartear held it's golden fiery gaze, though allowing his horsemen to make the first move upon the creature, he had to keep his body free from a close battle as of now...when many of his enemy still lurked above, within the crowds and waiting behind.
It would be a terrible mistake for him to lock his weapon against this one obstacle, but even so his focus then broke from the bird.
A voice called out crystal clear through the bloody grunts of the men nearer the bird- it was calmer and stronger than most of his underlings.
he looked over his shoulder to the figure briefly, still having to keep an eye on his immediate enemy.

The man had white hair, a silvery voice and a strange choice of...what he could only assume for now were clan-tattoos.
"You want to play a part..." He spoke, his tone having a challenge hidden somewhere in it. The man had no affinity to the DDC was a given, maybe it was a foolhardy assumption to make, all kinds of infiltration was bound to ensue in this new war.
But who could argue that those brutally engraved symbols were the work of the weak and fearful...
It didn't take much for him to know already this man was skillful. This was one hidden knife that he wanted within his arsenal of soldiers. "...Let's see..." He suddenly maneuvered on the saddle, dodging the thrust of a brave spear before cutting the person down with his own merciless sword.
"You. When this business is finished.." His words were intermittent as he fought off more oppressive small dragons and city-folk. "I want to see the head of your greatest victim."
He showed a devilish smile to the man, then turning away back to the creature before him.

Everything was working out, and although Zartear was never one for chance; rationality being the guide that executed his plans. Even he had to admit that luck was fighting with him, under the strengthening silhouette of a Tribal Battleblood in the sky; perhaps the most devastating of the omens. Although not aligned with it, it's sudden legendary appearance had to mean something...

And all the while, blood eased the grip upon the stony ground, debris of human and dragon beginning to pile in the head-on lock of his cavalry and the DDC of Racksom.

Cato feels a firey burn as an arrow sticks out of his calf. Cursing he rips it out probaly doing more damage then he would have had if he had just left it in. He yanks the closest rider off their horse and with some agility still left to him he gets up into the saddle. He could feel the darkness of the Battle Dragon. He looks at the bird infront of him. It was nearly two of him tall if not a bit more. He had heard whispers of these creatures. Though most was in hushed whispers of legends and myths. "My Lord, it's a phoenix!" Cato pulls arrows out of his quiver and begins shooting at the opposing forces around them.

Faust sighs and rolls his eyes, "And here I was going to fly you up to the tower where to stupid gem was kept. But if you want me to pick at your little army then I will." His voice was deep like time was long. OPening his beak he lets out a loud keen of a sound as he opens his wings. With one flap of them the winds he created where close to gale force. Only those well seated may have kept their place.

He pauses and looks at the one human with the boe in his hand. "You should listen to you friend, he knows a few things. As does the dragon that swims in his blood." Faust looks at the calvary and lets out a very unbird like growl as licks of black flames escape from between his beak.

Cato had never told anyone of the dragon's blood he takes to keep himself alive. Only a handful Zartear included would possibly know of his background as a dragon slayer. Pulling a vial out he pulls the cork with his teeth and downs the blood within it.

Felren whirled his blade to parry an on coming attack, easily pushing the human back and off balance he slit the mans throat. A spray of crimson filled the air and rained down on the dead man. Felren couldn't help the grin that came to his face when Zartear told him to bring in his biggest kill. He wasn't about to play cat and bring his catch into master, but..."Heh. I will play your game then, but know I don't take orders from humans." Felren, feeling satisfied with the greeting turned to see a woman approaching them. "My blade has not tasted the blood of a woman in some time..." He said, taking steps towards Deos. She seemed rather urgent to get where ever she was going.

~*~*~*~

Lena kept her back against Talos' in their familiar fighting fashion. Blood covered their clothing, most of it belonged to the victims they had slaughtered. There seemed to be no end to the fighting but Lena couldn't help notice the energy that seemed to keep pouring into her system.

And the energy only kept pouring as Lena spotted Siofra and she grinned. "There she is..." she mumbled, and leaned down to pull an arrow from the body cavity of a downed man. Drawing her string of her bow she set her target on, releasing her arrow. Lena knew, just knew that this girl could bring trouble and needed to at least seriously injury her. Perhaps now she will make more then a mark on her pretty face. Not having time to confirm a hit, Lena went back to covering Talos' back.

When she finally arrived in the square where Zartear and his men were making their attack, the situation was as dire as she had feared. It seemed like there were enemies everywhere, in the sky, on roofs, on the ground... It was madness, but somehow the self-proclaimed king was holding his own against the onslaught. A strong gust nearly whipped her out of her seat, saved only by the building blocking the gale. There appeared to be some sort of great bloody bird that was causing all the ruckus, and she dearly hoped that someone would put an arrow through it's breast and be done with it. The bird seemed like more trouble than an actual threat, but trouble was not a welcome element when there was so much other danger to be had.

Deos' eyes scanned the battle field and alighted on a white-haired man that appeared to have spotted her as well. The horns growing from his head intrigued her, and the sword in his hand and bloodlust in his eyes made her wary. He had pinned her with a gaze that was not unlike a very deadly predator that had just spotted it's newest kill and was ready to pounce. Her horse danced nervously underneath her as the figure approached, and she pulled on the reigns to back it up for every step forward the horned man took. "Hold!" She called in her strongest voice, unsheathing the fine sword at her hip and holding it aloft in her left hand, ready to defend herself if the creature wouldn't listen to reason. She had seen the white-haired man talking to Zartear, which logically meant that they were supposed to be on the same side. It was proving that she was on the same side that was going to be the hard part. "If you consider yourself an ally of the Lord Zartear, then we are comrades! I am the one that opened the gates and com from the Southern ramparts with dire news. There is some sort of woman that is the maker of these... golems and the source of the storms over the battle field! I know her location. Slay her, and we can turn the tides of battle." Though she spoke to the horned man, she looked to Zartear as well, for it was he that she needed to impress, not this creature if she wished to gain any sort of rank.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

There was a cut on his brow that was bleeding terribly, despite the fact that it was a shallow wound. Why was it that head wounds always bled the worst? Anyone that looked at him would have probably thought he had to be dying of blood loss here soon, for material of his shirt on his left arm was stained red from wiping the free-flowing blood all the time to keep it out of his eyes. Someone had gotten lucky and put a stab wound through the thin membrane of the tips of his wings and that stung, but otherwise he was somehow uninjured. In fact, he had never felt better, fighting back to back with his wife in this life and death struggle to save his homeland...

He sensed more than saw as Lena bent down to get the arrow, and was immediately on her flank, covering her from a flashing sword that would have otherwise probably hacked off her arm. He stopped the blow dead with a double cross of his short-sword and dagger, stepping close to the soldier to gain the best leverage. Drawing back his left hand, he thrust his dagger forward into the soft flesh of the man's neck, the weapon biting finding the notch between plates of armor to draw blood from the soft skin beneath. Gurgling, the man fell, and Talos was whirling his blades to defend himself from another attacker. Without a word, Lena was by his side again having finished whatever it was that she had been doing, defending his exposed side just like always. "Did you get them?" He yelled over the chaos, kicking down a man whose arm he had severed and stabbed him ruthlessly through the exposed neck, blood spraying from the wound and further wetting his clothes with the crimson dye.

Yet another ferocious growl filled the nightly air, drowning out some of the battle noise below the tribal battleblood’s impressive form. He did not care for those puny little humans that were now trying to rally against him on the ground. Xaoc knew that he could sweep every single one of them off their measly little mounts with a swipe of his claw if he wanted, but he had other things in mind. There were dragons around, and they would be so much more satisfying to kill than mere humans, even though the latter greatly outnumbered the winged ones. He kept circling over Racksom and the battle field, feeding on the pain, the blood, ripping apart limbs and the pleasure was vibrating in his blood. With a roar, he let his body fall down towards the ground, going for some of the catapults, tearing one away with his claws while breathing another jet of flames onto another one, which to his surprise stayed intact as if protected by an invisible barrier. Xaoc almost howled in fury as he realised this, sending the catapult in his claws flying in frustration, the machinery sending yet another few rows of fighters into their death before it rammed hard into the walls of Racksom.

Who would dare to oppose him? Who would dare to cross his path like this? His eyes were sparkling wildly as they darted from side to side while he made yet another round of the battlefield. It was then he caught sight of a weird floating human, which could definitely not mean anything good. Two-legged ones with magical powers were something to be taken very cautiously, and they rarely tasted good either. Letting out a puff of black smoke through his nostrils and a threatening growl, he eyed up the girl hovering next to his head. His mouth already opened slightly as he planned on simply devouring her whole, despite his reservations on her taste, when he felt a swoosh of air and he saw a silvery-blue something out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he realised that this thing was coming for him, the guardian dragon had already heavily crashed into Xaoc’s side.

Roaring, the tribal battleblood enraged at the thought of having been distracted by such a meaningless little creature, disrupting him not only in his path of destruction but in his concentration as well. She would pay for this! And where had that bloody guardian dragon suddenly appeared from? The impact of the clash sent all of them flying several meters through the air, before Xaoc caught himself with his powerful wings and immediately went for his attacker. He did not lose time, the need for more blood burning strongly and this dragon would do nicely. The tribal battleblood poised himself to go for Silverwing with all four of his clawed paws, his huge wings outstretched, wanting to cause as much damage to this intruder as possible, while his large teeth were snapping at the guardian’s throat in an attempt to rip it out. The blue dragon would pay for his mistake, of that much Xaoc was certain as another growl erupted from his throat, and maybe he would pay for the girl's mistake, too, while he was at it.

The battle blood glared at her, his expression oozing venom. Kumiko moved herself a little way away for safety- he didn't look like he was in the mood for a partnership. She confirmed this suspicion as he opened his mouht, then her eyes widened as the guardian hurtled towards her, and she plunged out of the way just in time.
'You'll pay for that,' she hissed as she inspected her tails. One of the spirit ones would have been singed, but it was fine- she hadn't been thinking of it at the time. The battle blood was now looking at her with a death expression inbetween savage attacks to the guardian, and Kumiko decided it might be prudent to leave the area. She did so, and objects flew around her, mostly weapons. A few cannonballs began hurtling about randomly at lethal speeds. Kumiko was now in a bad mood, and that was not a good sight. People fell in waves, and she soon dropped to the ground and crouched on all fours. Her form ripplead and she stood as a fox. Feeling stronger, as she always did in her true form, she curled her lip as she lifted twenty swords and directed them at a large group standing together. The one in the centre was cutting down opponents with ease. She was pretty sure he was the leader of the invaders. With her sadistic smile firmly in place, she swooped up and then down again in a large arc to hover just in front of the leader.
'Hello,' she smirked. The swords stayed still, just hovering where they were. IT was a strain to think about keeping so many things airbourne at once and still talk, but Kumiko tried not to let it show. 'I'm not goign to hurt you until we've talked a little,' she added confidently. She just hoped this person had no fantastic hidden powers.

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C1 Racksom~~~~And then, there was War~~~~(5th Board)

C1 RacksomAnd then, there was War(5th Board)