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Arya Stark

Roleplay Rise of the Fallen (RP Thread)

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Once, long ago, the Gods helped the world. They often visited from their home above the clouds to interact with the Elves, Humans, and Greys that lived short and fragile lives on the surface. They helped them develop into their very first villages and cities and nations.

 

There were the Elves, regal and graceful, one with nature, that lived in the deep forests of the east. They built their lifestyles to revolve around the planet, harmony being the core principle. Elves with their attunement to the world, developed a natural skill for magic. The Gods loved the Elves because of their harmonious nature, and their wish to protect the planet on which they all lived.

 

The Greys on the other hand, lived in the fiery lava fields of the south, inhospitable to the other races, but pleasantly warm for the Greys. The Greys were a people bound by war. They lived separated, loyal to their clan. They were battle-hungry and blood-thirsty, almost all obsessed with the idea of getting stronger. The Clans often warred with each other for pure enjoyment. The Greys are an incredible people, naturally stronger than the other races. The Gods loved the Greys because of the bold and prideful way they acted.

 

Humans are the most common. They have a thirst for exploration, a natural curiosity. They rapidly filled the rest of the world, adapting to each surrounding with no problem, filling the tropical west, the central plains, and the freezing north. Humans are naturally skilled with their hands, being the best craftsmen as well as the best adventurers due to their instinctual exploring tendencies. Humans are incredibly varied as well, coming in all shapes, sizes and colors. The Gods loved the Humans because of their variety and pluck.

 

For hundreds of years, the Gods have been nearly non-existent in the world. They so rarely interacted with the inhabitants of the world that they were often thought of as legends.  The Gods were disconnected. The only ones that continued the ancient tradition of fervent god-worshipping were the Dalians of the West. Technology and civilization advanced to new states without the Gods, and all thought that we no longer needed them. Even elderly elves who remembered still the time of Gods decided that the world had been abandoned, and that there was no point to looking up to them any longer. The races rarely interacted, keeping to themselves mostly. Three individual nations of humans formed, the Imperial Xha of the Northern Plains, the Dalians of the Western Coast, and the Kingdom of Kele of the Central Desert. The world did not stop for the gods.

 

But now that has changed. Two years ago, the gods came back in a sudden and furious way, that of the warpath. They swiftly conquered Xha, the whole empire falling in just a few days. Soon after that, revolutions spread across the whole world. The Dalians, joyful that their gods had returned, swiftly turned the leading of their government and forces over to Dayben, the King of the Gods. The country from thenceforth became known as the Theocracy of Dayben. The King of Kele was assassinated by his brother, Aleksandr, and the heir Nikolai was forced out. Soon afterwards Aleksandr essentially allowed Dayben full authority, though Aleksandr was left in his position. 

 

The Greys in their warlike clans could not be so easily crushed. But regardless, clan after clan fell to the infinitely more powerful gods. The Greys were enslaved and put into labor camps for no other reason than to crush their rebellious spirits. Only the most powerful clans remain unsubjugated, and there are whispers of a demonic cave that might provide the answers that they need. 

 

The Elves had already been embroiled in a time of terrible political tension, and it took only a few whispers and some strategic moves and the Elves were all at each others throats, divided into factions of rebels led by Vey and traditionalists led by Queen Trisn. The elderly elf Shub has been making efforts to convince them that they are fighting for no reason, but has had no luck yet. 

 

 

 

~The Beginning~

The ruins of Xha echo with the past splendor. Rats scurry underneath some debris. High above, flying through the sky, three young Gods are laughing and enjoying themselves. One shoots a bolt of fire at some vermin that didn't quite crawl fast enough. Roast rat baked on the unmaintained road as the God whooped and did a loop in celebration. When he returned to their level, he high-fived his two friends. 

 

A young girl looks out from the shadows. Her mother had gone away to go get some food, and told her to stay put. If she stayed quiet and in the dark, she could maybe, just maybe, stay unnoticed. Unfortunately for her, Hak was a Goddess who happened to enjoy the power of incredible senses, and as soon as she got over celebrating Infern's hot shot, she took notice of the little girl. She smiled easily, and called down below. "Little girl! Why hide from us! We mean no harm!" But her tone was malicious, and she could scarcely keep the laugh from leaking out. Infern and Iuit, her other companion, had no self control, and upon spotting the cowering girl burst out laughing. Humans were pathetic. The girl, not knowing what to do, but certain that if she didn't do something she'd be like that rat, hesitated for several seconds before bolting. 

 

"Awh! Come on! We just wanted to offer you some cookies!" Infern called out. Iuit snickered as the three Gods pursued the girl, very slowly. If they wanted to, she'd be very easy to catch. Infern lazily tossed a bolt of flame that shot past the girl and landed a few feet in front of her to her left.

 

~~

King Aleksandr was having a feast for his loyal subject. The royal was older, in his late forties at least. He had a stylish and well trimmed beard and mustache, and close cropped hair. It was still dark, but streaks of grey could be seen if one looked hard enough. Still, Aleksandr seemed happy enough to float an entire continent upon his head. He had everything he'd ever wanted. The Kingdom of Kele was finally his, torn from his half brother, who'd been named heir rather trivially in Aleksandr's mind. 

 

It had been years since he'd gotten his throne, and though the Gods still toiled in the Elven Woods and Grey lands, Aleksandr was confident it would not be long before all the world was under their control. And loyal subjects like him would continue to be rewarded. A few Gods were by his side now, behind him, their use as bodyguards never going challenged. They were after all the strongest. How else would they have taken over the world like they did. 

 

Guests continued to pour into the ballroom. He'd opened it up a bit more liberally this time. Some of the more middle class had been allowed to seat their poor bodies among better company. Aleksandr saw it as generous, and many of the merchants who saw it as a chance to get higher in the world did too. Things were set to go well. Maybe...

 

~~

A volcano erupted a few miles off as Gods and Greys collided on the field of battle once more. This eruption was slow, not violent. Lava would leak down here, but slowly. Certainly enough time for a victor to come about. The Greys had been caught off guard, and the once mighty Fire Clan was now falling one by one to the incredible power and vitality of the Gods. Off in the distance, some of the imprisoned, beaten and abused Greys craned their necks to get a good look at the battle, praying to something, obviously not the Gods, that the Fire Clan might find some savior, or something that could help turn the tides of this battle.

 

~~

In a bustling part of the canopy near the Capital, a few Elves wandered inside a particular building. This particular building just happened to be the Treasury of the Realm, a place where much of the money that funded Trisn's campaign and kingdom. And well, these few elves happened to not have the best intentions for this building. They split up as they came inside, and unknown to everyone else, they all had masks and weapons stowed beneath their cloaks. This strike might hurt innocents, but it was more important that Trisn be hurt. The Elves that had entered this building had entered knowing that. Though, one man, by the name of Fierro, was beginning to doubt himself. There were so many people milling about... Could he really put them in harm's way for his cause? He'd liked Trisn once upon a time. Things had changed oh so drastically. But this was the way things were. Now that each of the infiltrators were in their positions. One pulled a gun from their breast pocket. It wasn't very useful, being a gun and all, but it was incredibly intimidating. The explosion that rung out when the Elf, this one by the name of Mack, pulled the trigger caused immediate chaos. It escalated further when the gifted mage of the party, Phato, locked down the entrance with a massive ice wall spell, crying out "Glacius Barrio!" as the smell of frost began to permeate through the air. Mack smiled, and began to call out over the commotion.

 

"If you would all calm down, it would be much easier to keep things under control, and prevent any accidents. We don't want to harm any of you. All we want is to take down this building. We have a plan, and if any of you would like to join us, stand now and walk to us. If any of you would like to stand in our way, raise your hands so we know who to look out for." The elf yelled, demanding attention from everyone. His tone was arrogant. He knew his cause was righteous, and as long as that was true, they could not fail. Right?

 

~~

This is the state of the world. Make your place in it.

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(Gonna help the little girl. Hold up).

(So am I)

 

The girl did not have to run far, before she would run into someone. She looked like a teenager, no more than nineteen. her golden locks blew in the wind, piercing eyes of pure gold emanating a power uncertain. One hand caught the girl and pulled her behind, wings flaring out. The snow-white wings of the woman blocked sight, the feathers beginning to glow with righteous anger. From behind her formed a massive magic gate, and from it appeared weapons. The next fire bolt that had been coming, she smacked aside as if it was little more than a small toy ball, thrown for a game of catch.

"Hak. Iuit. Infern. Back. Away." She ordered. The wing picked up a bit, swords, spears all around her, held by magic. Her entire body began to glow, the woman enraged by the god's wanton disregard for life...the life of a child. This simple fact angered, no...no, it infuriated the girl to the point she didn't give them the chance to talk. From her wings erupted the signature attack of the Goddess of Light, the aetherial rain of a girl angered.

 

"I'm back, Hak-Hak. The Dawn has arrived." Her weapons flew towards the gods, thrown by unseen force as she deftly picked two swords from the storm. "Get to cover." She told the little girl. "And don't leave until I say so." She then kicked off, charging towards her fellow gods at breakneck speed. The Blade of Promise Victory, and the Golden Blade of the Victorious flashed in the sun, the ruins of Xha the backdrop to Zion's first open declaration of war upon the gods.

Upon a force of evil, and malignant view..

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It was one of those days once again, and it was the turn of a young elf guard to patrol around the Treasury. another rather dull day, common, but dull nonetheless. Until the comotion started, that is.
"What could that be?"
She slowly made her way towards the main part of the building were the noise was coming from. At the time of her arrival the entrance had been blocked with ice and there were a few compatriots making demands. There was a gun in the hand of one of these elves, a not very useful thing, but it still had effect on the people around. Another was just waiting there. And a third one was the spell caster. It was then that the one with the gun spoke, his words full of arrogance. Now was the time to act.
"Such arrogance. You say that you do not want to cause harm, to prevent accidents, " the Elf said flatly, her voice devoid of emotion. "And yet it seems to me that you are taking hostages."
The man had said that they had a plan involving the destruction of the Treasury. That meant going against the Queen, that was something she was not going to allow.
"Our kingdom needs the Treasury. Without it, the Kingdom would suffer, along with anyone who lives here," The elf said, " If you are so keen in destroying the Treasury then I'm afraid that I will have to intervene."
The young elf looked around at the people and then back at the intruders. There was nothing else that could be done. Civilians were at risk, but the Treasury was too. What would the Queen do? Protect the life of civilians? Or Sacrifice a few to protect the Treasury and save many? There was no time to ponder the question, it was time to take care of those who, obviously, tried to harm the Kingdom.
"For the attempt of destroying the Treasury," she said, "and for going against the Queen, I will take you down."

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Irena rubbed some dirt from her nose, sniffling as she grasped her flask on her hip.  The rock she leaned against had not yet betrayed her position on the battlefield, and she'd hoped it wouldn't for at least a few more minutes.  It seemed like ages that they had been locked in battle with the Gods, and Irena suspected it was not going to end anytime soon.  Slowly, one by one, members of her clan had fallen at the hands of the mighty, and while the Greys were prided in their strength, they were still no match for the immortal from above.

 

The sound of bubbles caught the young woman's attention, her gaze shifting toward a volcano to the west.  It was erupting, though thankfully it was not by any means threatening.  She'd partly wished that it would shoo the gods, but she knew that she couldn't be quite so lucky.  As she swallowed the remaining dregs from her flask a spear went flying past her position, and in only a moment a God was down upon her, its grin malicious as it approached.

 

Irena was isolated from the heat of battle; no one would come running if she cried for help.  That was probably precisely what this God wanted of her, too: to get on her hands and knees and beg for mercy, and cry for help like a harmless child.

 

"You want a fight," Irena stated, a fireball slowly kindling within her palms, "then that's exactly what you're going to get from me!"

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- Brenainn Loth, within the Capital -

 

Brenainn frowned at the circumstances that were befalling the Elven Empire's treasury and leaned resolutely onto his staff, listening and waiting and analysing amidst the chaos that surrounded him.  There were so many terrified citizens, two or more rebels, and not enough brave ones to stand out on their recruitment or stand up against it.  However, it seemed one was, for certain, brave.  He watched Rabiyu with a look of interest and pleasure, happy to see her reaction.  Perhaps there was something he was able to do after all.

 

"Now now, young ones, settle down and put your fists to your side," he stated over the calming crowd, walking a little closer to the gunslinger.  "What exactly do you intend to do here?  Are you so willing to take a stand and a side that you would lay down your life for it?  I know seven just like her in this very room that would

try to stop you, and you blocked off your only exit.  Stand down and prevent needless bloodshed unless you'd like to get your butt pummelled."

 

 

- Kaspar, on the volcanic battlegrounds alongside his fellow Greys -

 

Kaspar too was on the edge of the battlefield, but unlike Irena his dark eyes were fixated inward, towards his captive people who sought freedom from the oppressive gods.  The air around him churned with earthen power, channeling through him from the ground and spilling forth from his hands as he summoned the bodies of the fallen.

 

Carcasses were limited near his position and, much to his disappointment, all of them were exceedingly fresh, but five came forth, cut from their spiritual connections and with a fell look in their eye.  Kaspar preferred dealing with the long dead, the ones that did not look like previous allies or even friends.  Still, he had little choice.

 

"I apologise, Burning Earth, Ruptured Land, but I need your bodies as well as those of your comrades," he spoke in a thin, guttural voice, meaning every word.  That was enough sentiment, however, and he called upon an invocation.  "Those that have fallen, strip thyselves of monstrous nature and bodily need.  Mend thy souls and cleave thy flesh to usefulness, so that the one that beckoneth you puppets your existence."

 

The dead bent over from their hobbling, writhing in pain as their flesh knit itself together in horrific, unnatural fashion.  Sinews tightened like bowstrings, muscle melted into itself, and skin and bone healed weakly together, strong enough only to accomplish the task he had in mind.  Furthermore, their evil gaze weakened significantly, gaining a lustre that proved more human than predatory.

 

"Servants and past friends, your aid is called on.  Your clanmates and others still have been captured and are on death's door.  Free them and prevent what happened with you from affecting them."

 

Groans and hacks were their replies as they shambled speedily closer to the captives, following his command with enough intelligence to avoid the battle.  Kaspar himself did not have the same luck, two gods encroaching upon him from his left.

 

"A necromancer, and an ugly one besides, dear brother," one said, his hair long and golden and his armament consisting of twin javelins and a two-handed sword the equivalent of a Doppelhänder.

 

"You're correct about that, it seems," said the other, handsome, black-maned, and stroking his bow.  Kaspar felt a horrible glow of power from that one, a power attributed to darkness.  "How do you think the necromancer would stand against us?"

 

"Poorly," came the response from the golden one, preparing a javelin.  "Your bow has rarely faltered, Ahinoam."

 

"As have your spears, Absalom.  Let us put holes in this less holy corrupter, dear brother.  His foul practice disgusts me."

 

Kaspar narrowly escaped a bolt of darkness magic, sensing its formation before he was able to see it and dodging it before it pierced through his heart.

 

"Oho," chuckled Absalom, "you must be losing your touch, brother.  Let me try my hand at him, as well as the heft of my spear."

 

Kaspar saw it this time, the crunch of pressure between the spear and the man's hand almost vivid before he too let it fly.  While it was easier to dodge, the great rush of air almost paused him enough to get struck by a second unleashed arrow.  Almost.  He kicked off from the ground and rolled to safety thereafter, entirely displeased by the scenario he was granted.

 

"That usually works," Ahinoam muttered unhappily.  "Not on us gods, but so frequently with humans.  Maybe I should take on more Greys for target practice after this battle."

 

"You won't get the chance," Kaspar wheezed, bringing his hands down to summon anew with a stronger and wider casting.  More risen came forth, but only six and all of them unknit.

 

((More will come for Kaspar's fight later; I'm feeling rather drained at the moment and am in need of rest.  By the way, points and infinite peanut butter cookies to those who recognise the names of the gods.))

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- Anthony Hackett - Grey Lands, Volcanic Battleground -

 

Once more, the Gods and Greys were locked in conflict, the stubborn warrior race held it's ground better than most would even dare to, yet even they were beginning to falter to the sheer might of the "Divine" Gods.

 

The Gods were toying with the Greys, as they did with all of their prey, making every action on their part seem effortless and not worth their time. The Greys on the other hand were fighting back with all their might, with a younger Grey willing to fight back against a looming God, a Necromancer raising the dead and avoiding the half-baked attacks of two other Gods and the very fact that they haven't been utterly obliterated in seconds. They were willing to die for their land, as long as they took several Gods with them.

 

As the battle raged, an onlooker observed everything from a higher point upon the landscape of the Grey Lands. He was close to the fight, only just out of easy sight by Gods. This onlooker's body was seeping an Aura of Darkness, his cracked and darkened armour gleaming ever so slightly from the reflection of the lava flow slowly creeping from the Volcano and the destruction already being caused below by the fight. "Looks to be the Fire Clan..." He noted mentally as his eyes continued to scan the battlefield, his crouched posture firm as he saw numerous Greys using Pyromancy. It could not be seen outside, but his expression turned to one of mild confusion and surprise as something caught the onlookers eye: A few Fire Clan Greys were....praying? "Praying...to who? What force or being? These Gods are here to kill you...unless...they just wish to be saved..." The onlooker spoke in his mind, furrowing his brow and looking down at the ground he knelt upon.

 

"I'm no Angel...but, if history's taught me anything, the Divine aren't to be counted on...it's not like I really have a choice anyway." The man spoke aloud, his voice deep and distorted by his ailment as he looked ahead and stood up. "Here goes nothing. Maybe this will be it..." With this, Anthony Hackett entered his Wraith Form and soared across the plains, his approach very visible as he flew towards the battle. He had his sights set on the younger Grey (Irena) alone with a God and was about to do something utterly reckless. Aiming straight for the God, he turned back to normal, still in the air and retaining his momentum. He drew his sword and was aiming to strike the God, using the force of his flight, now fall, to his advantage, hoping to either hurt the God as much as possible, or at least cease his approach towards the woman.

Edited by Nero Kunivas

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-Ballroom - Aleksandr's Castle-

 

"Seth Astreal!"

A local businessman within the commons, where Seth had opened his blacksmithing shop, called Seth's name. His hair was trimmed much more prim than usual, a slicked-back, shiny wad of hair atop a slender, vanilla profile. He dressed in his best wear — a red-and-silver cloak donned over a white cloak and pants. His belt buckle shone silver. He held a glass of red wine in his hand, as proper as royalty would, and his posture was completely stiff and straight. He seemed like royalty — but he knew the man was merely a middle-class owner of the Stravis (am admittedly scrumptious restaurant in the commons), just as Seth was. But Seth would never dress like that. He just couldn't respect royalty and their.... Thirst for everything.

 

"Hey", Seth spoke rather casually. He knew exactly what the man was going to say. My, what a...

 

"...splendid ball, yes?" He asked.

 

"My, oh my..." Seth nearly snarled. But the man was far too encased in his own jubilance that he failed to see Seth's lack thereof.

 

"Lord Aleksandr... My, there has been never a finer leader than he!" He continued. "Why, his Majesty has partaken such care for his kingdom that I am afraid I have no such place that shall store my coin!"

 

"Aye." Seth gave a slight, unmotivated nod, "has it been so?"

 

"Indeed!" The man gave a laugh that could echo across the room, had the middle class not had been so clumped together. "Seth, mind a glass with me?"

 

"Aye" Seth said, shifting in discomfort. "I don't drink wine."

 

"Pardon." The man changed the subject "You are a fine man of your hands."

 

Seth relaxed at the tone of the conversation, cracking a small smile. "As are you. Word of your grand cuisine, had it not been confined to the filth of this kingdom would be honored across the entire world." Seth's voice trailed at the word 'filth'.

The man seemed not to hear the last comment anyway. "Oho, flattery has your words!"

 

"I speak not flattery. From my lips echoes truth."

 

"All the more flattered am I!"

 

"All the more you deserve."

 

The man has grinned. "Aye, though bread comes aplenty. Never a name has trickled among my ears that hasn't heard yours! Of occasion does the noble descend to you who steels his sword!"

 

"Why, for much more do I part their coin than I of commoners." Seth crossed his arms.

 

"Ever the more bread for thou lips!"

 

"Ever the more research for thy steel. Thy bench relieves thy thirst." Seth gestured in a hammering motion, then in a drinking motion to illustrate.

 

"Perhaps..." The man said.

 

The ball continued, as Seth gathered tails of lobster and shrimp, meat-laced pasta and slices of cake, sampling as much as he could stomach as inspiration for his meal for the next day. Maybe he'd make a gourmet ham meal when he returned home. He continued his banter with the owner of Stravis, and the chorus continued its music. The women sang in a Latin opera chorus, the men stroked the bow of violins fiercely, yet delicately, and the ball continued to pour in with the middle class. Beautiful women, those of royalty and those not, giggled and smiled as men drew them through love or through lust.

King Aleksandr was no where in sight for now... But Seth anticipated his presence at any moment.

Edited by Clouded Sun

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- Tolan - Moonlight Hunter - Assisting the fire clan - 

 

It was a bloody fight, too many were already lost from the god's attack, too many greys, warriors, innocents, woman and children had already been killed by this cowardly attack, Tolan had barely arrived in time to watch the vulcan erupt. As moonlight energy trailed behind each step he took, this only meant one thing. Tolan was Angry, how could he not be? It was gods he was dealing with now, the ones who murdered his Grandaughter. And he was itching for payback.

 

Slowly approaching the Village's perimeter, not drawing his blade as of yet, as the gods haven't noticed him yet, he examined the situation, a fellow grey girl, fighting alone against a god, handling herself alright. Especially now with the dark entity that came by to help her...this interested him greatly, just who and what was that? and why was it attacking a god? could it have been a god's enemy or another god entirely? Tolan would have to find out later.

 

But probably the most interesting sight was a necromancer, Kaspar, was his name. A well known and well disliked sort among the clans. Noble of him to help his people however, even if they hated him. This much was enough to make Tolan not shun his presence in the conflict. But he noted the man was fighting two gods. The perfect opportunity to strike, amidsts the blazen battlefield, on a time limit with the now lava stream constantly leaking down the mountain.

 

In a blur, Tolan was engulfed in Moonlight, disappearing for a moment as if teleporting. As he took the opportunity as the twin gods were distracted by Kaspar to strike at them.

 

Coming out of in a bright flash of moonlight energy, his sword drawn out in its full splendor, Tolan was still engulfed in the energy, as he magicaly dashed towards one of the gods, one named Absalom, long haired, with the javelins. Coming out of the dash with a horizontal slash, as well as creating a small platform of magic below him, only big enough for him to step one foot into it as he used it to somersault over the god, wheter he dodged the earlier slash or not was irrelevant, as Tolan somersaulted he aimed for the god's hair, should he grab it, he would promply slam the god down onto the ground, possibly leaving Kaspar with enough time to strike the other god as it was probably distracted from the sudden attack. 

 

"You cowardly attack a clan of my people, of proud, honorable warriors, you kill innocents and children to fulfill your own selfish desires...you are no holy being, you aren't even fit to be a demon, those at a least somewhat honorable" Tolan Taunted Absalom as he did his entire attack.

 

 

- Henry - The Dark Sword - Onlooking Zion's fight against the gods - 

 

'Less talking about dawn and shit, more fighting please. there is a girl to be saved.' Henry thought to himself. As he watched Zion attack the gods, this was a first for him, seeing a god attack a fellow one. Not only that, but for the sake of protecting a girl? Henry heard everything and read the entire situation quickly from over eighty meters away, godly power clearly seeping in the area's atmosphere, this made it easy for Henry to read the auras, as he had something to reference it to anyway. 

 

Three gods, versus one. Odds clearly weren't in the one's favor, but He imagined that she would make up her talking with fighting. Seeing the little girl hide away at the goddess's order. Henry knew this was bound for collateral damage, the girl was still in danger. He could sense pure fear in the girl's aura. No kid should ever feel such a thing. 

 

Henry slowly approached the area, as to get closer to the girl without drawing attention, or scaring the poor kid. 'What have you gotten yourself into Henry, this is why you can't have nice things...shit you can barely take on one god yet you followed the magic trail and now you find yourself between a battle of four gods, my sense of self preservation astounds me sometimes'. Henry thought to himself with a frown.

 

 

 

 

(For the fights :D)

Edited by Scrapmaster

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- Tolan - Moonlight Hunter - Assisting the fire clan - 

 

It was a bloody fight, too many were already lost from the god's attack, too many greys, warriors, innocents, woman and children had already been killed by this cowardly attack, Tolan had barely arrived in time to watch the vulcan erupt. As moonlight energy trailed behind each step he took, this only meant one thing. Tolan was Angry, how could he not be? It was gods he was dealing with now, the ones who murdered his Grandaughter. And he was itching for payback.

 

Slowly approaching the Village's perimeter, not drawing his blade as of yet, as the gods haven't noticed him yet, he examined the situation, a fellow grey girl, fighting alone against a god, handling herself alright. Especially now with the dark entity that came by to help her...this interested him greatly, just who and what was that? and why was it attacking a god? could it have been a god's enemy or another god entirely? Tolan would have to find out later.

 

But probably the most interesting sight was a necromancer, Kaspar, was his name. A well known and well disliked sort among the clans. Noble of him to help his people however, even if they hated him. This much was enough to make Tolan not shun his presence in the conflict. But he noted the man was fighting two gods. The perfect opportunity to strike, amidsts the blazen battlefield, on a time limit with the now lava stream constantly leaking down the mountain.

 

In a blur, Tolan was engulfed in Moonlight, disappearing for a moment as if teleporting. As he took the opportunity as the twin gods were distracted by Kaspar to strike at them.

 

Coming out of in a bright flash of moonlight energy, his sword drawn out in its full splendor, Tolan was still engulfed in the energy, as he magicaly dashed towards one of the gods, one named Absalom, long haired, with the javelins. Coming out of the dash with a horizontal slash, as well as creating a small platform of magic below him, only big enough for him to step one foot into it as he used it to somersault over the god, wheter he dodged the earlier slash or not was irrelevant, as Tolan somersaulted he aimed for the god's hair, should he grab it, he would promply slam the god down onto the ground, possibly leaving Kaspar with enough time to strike the other god as it was probably distracted from the sudden attack. 

 

"You cowardly attack a clan of my people, of proud, honorable warriors, you kill innocents and children to fulfill your own selfish desires...you are no holy being, you aren't even fit to be a demon, those at a least somewhat honorable" Tolan Taunted Absalom as he did his entire attack.

 

- Kaspar and the Moon Twins, on the volcanic battlefield between the gods and the Fire Clan -

 

It took Ahinoam a moment to see the newcomer, and his eyes narrowed in worry for his brother.

 

"Absalom, to your side!" he shouted, restocking his bow with darkness magic.

 

It was milliseconds too late.  Absalom brought his sword hand to the hilt of his blade and swung it vertically in ferocious might to match the slash, but he did not expect Tolan's kick off from a crafted magical barrier.  Ducking proved fruitless as Tolan snared a good portion of his hair and yanked him downward into the volcanic, dry earth.  However, he did not take much time to be dazed before following the motion, curling into a ball, and attempting a swift and powerful kick with both legs to knock the interloper away.

 

Kaspar welcomed the situation and took full advantage of it, surging energy into the ground and the air that provided an unhealthy resurrection of the corpses' flesh.  Like before, bone, sinew, and flesh wove into each other, and the bodies were made, for the most part, whole.

 

Then came the onslaught, the first of the corpses making their move against the dark-haired archer in a fast-paced hobble.  Ahinoam fired a bolt of corruptive darkness into its face before punching it full-on with his bow arm, blasting it backward with herculean strength.  Another lich came soon after, and another, and Ahinoam found himself bolting to safety, far away from his twin and with chasing ghouls following.  Kaspar grinned a little and put his focus on Absalom.  Drawing a devilish blade from his cloak, the necromancer leapt into the air towards the golden pretty boy and brought down the dagger in a strong stab, but the action was parried by the slamming arcing motion of a javelin.

 

"If you think I'd be bested in a challenge of strength, you'd be dead wrong.  And you . . . you grabbed my hair," Absalom voiced, glaring at Tolan behind a large and powerful scimitar.  "I'll kill you first.  Call it my new selfish desire."

 

Absalom backed away from Kaspar and Tolan, previously trapped in the middle and forming a triangle to better view the two.  The archer fended off corpses in the meantime, shooting several but not in the right places.  The head was the weakest point of a reanimated creature.  Sever thought from the body and it will fall unless a great hex was laid on it, but Kaspar had no time for such a thing.  He remained chased around, but the reanimated bodies would not last much more punishment.

Edited by Vaude

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- Tolan - Moonlight Hunter - Assisting the fire clan, fighting alongside Kaspar -

 

Tolan was content his attack worked, the god was slammed onto the ground with force, but quickly recovered, Tolan narrowly dodged the two legged by sidestepping to the right. Allowing the god to get back up and collect his thoughts and surroundings. As well as to give Kaspar time to do whatever it was he intended to do.

 

And indeed the necromancer surely did, a foiled attack at Absalom, but a nice distraction to his brother in the form of lichs, ghouls and other undead-like beings. Tolan simply stuck his sword on the ground as he watched both Kaspar, Absalom and Ahinoam. Absalom specially spoke to him, noting that Tolan would be the first to die by his hand, which only made him chuckle. "Better men than you have tried, better gods than you have tried...And none suceeded, not even the Moon lord." Tolan spoke to him. As his sword glew as it was stuck on the ground.

 

Watching Absalom get into position, Tolan glanced at Kaspar. "I would ask what a necromancer is doing here, but thats a question for another time...It does seem you need help fending off these two flunkies." Tolan spoke, shifting his gaze towards Absalom, under his attire and cloak, his face unseeable, only his blue, glowing eyes could be seen. "Give me your best shot, 'god'." Tolan taunted him, picking his sword up and pulling it out of the ground.

Edited by Scrapmaster

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Hak looked to Zion. The goddess of light's distaste for what they were doing was well known. Hak had never understood why... These were vermin, no better than rats. Why not take them down? It was pointless to let them live their pathetic lives really. All they did was pollute the ground for the gods to stand on. This however, was not a subtle mention of distaste. This was an attack. Hak dodged simply feeling the air move around her. Infern did only a little more work than her, igniting his body into a powerful storm of heat, melting the weapons before they could touch him. Iuit did nothing, and though it was hard to tell if it was luck or something else at work, the flying weapons did not hit him. Hak did not have time to concern herself with anything else as Zion lashed out at her. She jetted sideways bringing out a wicked curved blade from beneath her cloak. She readied herself for an attack, but before she could do anything, Infern with a crazy laugh, charged towards Zion, the flames exuding off his body in waves of heat. "If you stand in my way I won't hold back!" The flaming god cried maniacally.

~~

"You're seriously going out there? A cynical voice called to Henry's back. Viridem sat on a piece of rubble, a knife twirling between her fingers. "That's a lot of gods and a lot of crossfire. Seems a little stupid if you ask me." She said, but shrugged. She didn't honestly care about his wellbeing. Just hers. And as soon as things stopped being entertaining and enlightening, she'd slip away. Preferably with the girl in tow. No need for her to get hurt.

 

Hak and Infern might have gotten caught up by Zion's attack, but Iuit was quieter. And the other humans did not escape his notice. Nor did their strength. He'd better deal with them now before they had the chance to get any stronger. He descended from the sky until he landed on the ground. Once he touched down, he began to walk towards Henry and Viridem, his expression a mask of neutrality. Viridem craned her neck to look around Henry, and saw the God come closer. "Looks like you got your wish I guess." She said as Iuit continued to approach slowly. He was in no rush. If they scurried like the rats they were it would be no matter. He would catch them.

~~

The God smiled down upon Irena, malice gleaming from his teeth. This would be oh so fun. Little Grey all alone. Easy prey, even with that inkling of flame she wielded in her palm like it would save her. Spoiler alert: It wouldn't. Then Anthony drove through him like he was nothing. The God vaporized, destroyed by the vicious lunge. The real God was on the ground, and he winced from the pain of losing the clone. Damn outsider. He could have done this easy peasy had this dark avenger not come from nowhere. Now things were a little more difficult. Only a little though. Liquel looked to Irena and drew a scythe from his back. Then there were three Liquels. "The fight's not over yet little Grey." His eyes glanced to where Anthony had landed. "And you shall pay for that loss dark soul." Liquel continued. Whenever he spoke, all three spoke, and their voices combined in perfect harmony. It was a storm of unified voices, and unison was the only way to describe the three as they rushed forward suddenly. Incredible speed at their feet they surrounded and lashed out towards Irena in a broad swipe of their scythes.

~~

Falling Boulder looked out upon the battlefield. The Fire Clan was being pushed back, and he could not have this. He would not let another clan fall. "To me men! He yelled, and the Earth Clan crested a hill, entering the fray. Falling Boulder himself had his axe brandished from the beginning. A god flew towards him, hoping to take out the leader. A lightning infused fist hurtled towards Falling Boulder, but the Chieftain would have none of it. He sidestepped, and brought the axe down in a quick motion, taking the hand clean off. The God plummeted to the ground, screaming in agony for a short time longer before Falling Boulder took his head. The God melted into a puddle of liquid, and from experience, Falling Boulder knew it would evaporate soon enough. Such a shame... The corpses would make such good trophies. He looked out upon the battlefield as his braves crashed into the flank of the Gods' army. The Fire Clan surged again, reinvigorated by the fresh reinforcements. Once upon a time, these clans would have stared at each other from across the way, warfare on their minds. But now they had a common enemy.

~~

A young man, perhaps a year or so older than Seth stepped beside him. "Do you like this kind of thing?" Was the question on his lips. The man was tall, his dark hair unkempt. He'd attempted to dress up, but he still stood wary, as if he could never be comfortable. Always on guard. Nothing would change that, not even the most luxurious of balls. "I mean this is nice, but the people outside still hunger and cry. Gods fly by and abuse them as they please and King Aleksandr does nothing. The man looked to Seth now, his eyes full of questioning. He pursed his lips. "Does this bother you or should I go see if someone else agrees with me?" He asked. A pair of Gods stood at the front of the room, behind the High Table and they looked about the room, scanning for those that might prove trouble. Their eyes roamed past Seth and his new friend... For now at least.

~~

Fierro listened quietly to Rabiyu and Brenainn as they stood and protested. Rabiyu had a point... This was hostage taking... These people could get hurt... They weren't soldiers of Trisn. But Mack found Fierro's eyes, and glared. Focus Fierro. This has a point to. This was a crucial effort, that was why it was left to them. "The treasury funds Trisn's army. And any who would stand for the treasury stands for the war to be prolonged. Vey is right my friends, Trisn seeks to lead us deeper into the shadows! None of you shall get hurt I promise that, unless like these two, you look to stand in our way. Now, as I said. Separate those who believe in our cause. Go to Fierro." Mack declared loudly gesturing towards his comrade with his gun. Fierro swallowed nervously. This was all going according to plan he thought as a few stood and came to him, expressions of pleasure coming over their faces. The capital was Trisn's stronghold, but Vey's propaganda was far-reaching. It was no surprise that a couple leaped at the opportunity to join the cause. Mack smiled again towards Brenainn and Rabiyu. "You two don't have to stand for a queen that doesn't have your interests in mind. Kneel down again, or go stand with Fierro, he'll have something for you. Phato, get to work." Phato, still standing above nodded, and leaped back down to the bottom floor, and rushed to the back. She had no need for keys, not with the magic she had. She'd spent months learning this spell.

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- Tolan - Moonlight Hunter - Assisting the fire clan, fighting alongside Kaspar -

 

Tolan was content his attack worked, the god was slammed onto the ground with force, but quickly recovered, Tolan narrowly dodged the two legged by sidestepping to the right. Allowing the god to get back up and collect his thoughts and surroundings. As well as to give Kaspar time to do whatever it was he intended to do.

 

And indeed the necromancer surely did, a foiled attack at Absalom, but a nice distraction to his brother in the form of lichs, ghouls and other undead-like beings. Tolan simply stuck his sword on the ground as he watched both Kaspar, Absalom and Ahinoam. Absalom specially spoke to him, noting that Tolan would be the first to die by his hand, which only made him chuckle. "Better men than you have tried, better gods than you have tried...And none suceeded, not even the Moon lord." Tolan spoke to him. As his sword glew as it was stuck on the ground.

 

Watching Absalom get into position, Tolan glanced at Kaspar. "I would ask what a necromancer is doing here, but thats a question for another time...It does seem you need help fending off these two flunkies." Tolan spoke, shifting his gaze towards Absalom, under his attire and cloak, his face unseeable, only his blue, glowing eyes could be seen. "Give me your best shot, 'god'." Tolan taunted him, picking his sword up and pulling it out of the ground.

 

 

 

- Kaspar, fighting the Astral Twins alongside Tolan -

 

Kaspar gave out a grunt at Tolan's commentary, but he begrudgingly nodded too.  Fighting two gods such as these would probably have been too much for him, one engaging at all ranges while the other poked from afar.

 

"I hate to admit it, but you may be right," he replied with a wheeze, a small smile showing.  "That is a question for another time."

 

Absalom gritted his teeth, not afraid at all from Tolan's taunting and the weapon of godly design, but the man's skill was surely great in physical feats as well as magical ones.  Absalom's greatest gifts, unlike most gods, lay in strength of body, every fibre of his being vibrant and intent on being the greatest and most powerful.  He was still among the lowest echelons of gods due to his centric focus, but he was determined to fight his way to supremacy, starting with these subpar beings.

 

"Coming right up, low one," the god retorted, taking a few steps closer to the one with the Moon Lord's blade.

 

With finesse garnered over centuries of training, he flicked his sword in a wide, slow spin over his head before arcing it towards Tolan's midsection, afterwards pirouetting and spinning both sword and spear the opposite direction once the blow was blocked, dodged, or striking the objective.  Once he was done with his footwork, he leaped upward and backward, lobbing the javelin toward Tolan should he see him.  The group of actions was quick and dangerous, but in the end it left Absalom one weapon shorter and flying backwards to terra firma.

 

Kaspar attempted to take advantage of this by making it terra infirma.  Using the manipulation of the earth's forces, he shifted the ground so that it would softly crumble beneath the god's feet.  It was limited because Kaspar was mostly practiced in necromancy rather than earth magic, but the effect proved fruitful.  Absalom twisted his ankle and his movements were slowed and painful.  Tolan could certainly take full use of that.

 

In the meantime, Ahinoam still struggled against the remaining five ghouls, but was winning.  He was fast and powerful, his arms mighty from constant use of the bow.  Every time the corpses came close he blasted them back or shot them with an arrow of darkness, and they came back toward him weaker and slower than before.  Three lay completely dead now, dark arrows firmly lodged in grey matter, and he now fully understood their weakness.

 

Kaspar took advantage of the moment and laid upon the corpses a stronger hex this time, chanting a new spell and slamming both palms on the volcanic ground.

 

"Black and white worms bellow and fight for your flesh, but your body is ageless and conquers both wrigglers.  If kerfed down, come back up.  If thou lose your head, come back up.  Only in pieces will thou rest."

 

The remaining three bodies were now more resilient and did not need their heads intact now, much to Ahinoam's future frustration, but they were still destructible and able to be killed.

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Rabiyu - In the Treasury

 

The young Elf looked at Brenainn for a moment before focusing on the other elf.
"Not our interests in mind?" Rabiyu repeated. "What do you know about that? It is true that this is just prolonging the war, but neither you nor Vey have the right to judge. You cannot make promises you can't keep, anyone who joins this group will be labeled as a traitor and will be brought to face judgement."
Rabiyu quickly looked around, a few of the people around were taking their side. It was their choice, and they would have to face the consequences. There was also THAT one, she could see it clearly, hesitation. His eyes couldn't lie, not to her.
"Something tells me that your intentions are not entirely pure as you want everyone to believe," She said flatly to Mack, "nor do I care to know them. You and your accomplices are hereby declared as traitors to the crown and to her Highness."
The Elf quickly took notice that one of the criminals was going towards the back. Rabiyu knew what she had to do, she had to follow her. In a quick movement Rabiyu took out her bow with an arrow ready to be used. She shot the arrow towards the legs of the one who was going to the back in an attempt to slow her down, then took out a pair of daggers from under her cloak.
"I'm afraid that I need you to step aside so I can capture your friend," Rabiyu said, "I cannot allow you to harm the Treasury."
It was time to act, there was no time for hesitation, she had to use all of her skills to stop this. Rabiyu ran towards Mack, she threw one of her daggers which landed close to Mack's feet before it began to glow. The elf was already muttering intangible words, barely a whisper, a spell was being prepared. At that moment Rabiyu disappeared from sight only to reappear under Mack.
"Sorry, but I do not have time for these games."
With the remaining dagger Rabiyu saw her opportunity to strike. In a quick movement she made a thrust towards Mack's chest. If the element of surprise didn't worked the fight would be prolonged, but she still had to stop the other one from whatever she was going to do.

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-Seth - Aleksandr's Ballroom-

 

A man, dark-haired and casually dressed like Seth was, approached him, with a voice vibrating the waves of air by Seth's ears, spoke to him. Echoing his thoughts.

 

...people outside still hunger and cry... Gods fly by and abuse them as they please... King Aleksandr does nothing!

 

"Do you agree?" he asked.

 

The blacksmith hesitated at the question, not because he'd ever had second thoughts about his hate for the absolute monarchy of his home, but because he felt a cold presence around him, as if the air chilled from its springtime fevor of joy to its autumn days of change.

 

Seth drew his answer slowly and quietly, but with the force of a battle-hardened general. "Aye... I fear of the grim state the world shall endure lest the lands be by his rule. The Gods do naught to quell the storm... No, the storm is stirred by their wicked hands!"

 

Seth almost spoke far too loud, as his voice began to rise with the heat of his frustration. He returned to his state of composure, in case Aleksandr, his minions, or even the Gods took note of his conversation.

 

In a softer voice, Seth continued "Knowledge seems to command your thoughts, sir. Let thy name etch its mark into my memory."

 

(This accent is so hard to keep up, and so is my motivation for it xD)

Edited by Clouded Sun

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The flame within Irena's palm diminished as an unknown dark figure lunged from behind her, lashing out at the god and causing it to vaporize into nothingness.  The red-haired woman blinked.  This did not seem possible; a person could not simply kill a god.

 

But alas, he was not truly dead.  The god had managed to create clones, each one about as menacing as the original itself.  The god, Liquel, spoke to them as though they were meaningless children, lives that were to be scattered upon the battlefield like petals on the wind.  This only aroused the flame within Irena's eyes, and the fire of fury that kindled within her very soul.  "You can't just waltz around and threaten us like this!" she retorted.  "If you wanted to simply kill us you would have already done so!  You are merely toying around with us for fun, threatening and oppressing us until we are weak."  The grey removed the scythe from its position hoisted on her back, gripping it with both hands horizontally in front of her.  "Well, guess what?  That ends here, because I will not be tolerating it anymore!"

 

She stole a sideways glance at the newcomer that had probably saved her life.  Probably.  Irena would not readily admit that she had been on the brink of destruction had he not intervened, though it quite likely were true.  It was foolish to fight a god in its own right, forget alone.  Irena shrugged and glanced down.  "Look, I don't know who you are, but thanks.  Thanks for coming.  You seem like you're a pretty good fighter.  Think you can help me show this god what we're really made of?"

 

With that Irena darted away, zooming around one of the gods from behind.  She rooted her scythe into the ground before swinging from it, its handle gripped firmly in her hands.  She attempted to kick two of the clones as she made a rotation horizontally, before leaping back to her feet and removing the scythe from the ground.  With that she slammed hard on the ground, cutting her scythe through the air in a sideways motion.  She hoped that she'd take one of the clones out with her, but then again this was a god she was dealing with, and they were rather unpredictable.

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- Brenainn Loth, within the Capital and begrudgingly engaged in a scrap -

 

Brenainn consulted himself regarding what to do with the situation at hand, things looking a little worse with every passing second as the mage whipped off in order to destroy the Treasury, but when Rabiyu launched a swift and flashy attack he feared for the general population.  No doubt most could take care of themselves -- elves had a knack for self-preservation -- but there would be casualties should anyone get careless with their actions.  With that said, he put his skills to work, rushing toward the entrance in a swift run and mumbling a spell in rich Elvish.

 

"Ignite in the flash of autumnal reds, beautiful flame!" he spoke, flames erupting from his hands in a fiery curtain and attempting to lap a way through the ice.  While it was thick and challenging to melt through, a show that the female mage Phato was quite skilled, he made a decent-sized hole out of which people could flee.  Thankfully people were far away on the other side, the fire eating away at the available oxygen on the other side and creating a backdraft, and once the deed was done he turned and cupped his hands around his mouth.

 

"For those of you who value your lives or do not wish to see a massacre, leave this place!" he shouted.  "We will deal with the situation."

 

Some nearby people took him up on his offer and flocked to the reopened entrance, but it was unlikely all heard him or saw his actions.  Hoping it was enough, he decided now was the best time to help Rabiyu and rushed in her direction, prepping a shielding and lightening magic for her.

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- Tolan - The Moonlight Hunter - Assisting the necromancer -

 

Tolan nodded at Kaspar as he focused on Absalom, who had now spoke, giving Tolan some hope for a good attack, sometimes Tolan reggreted letting his opponents attack first, times they would get strikes in, other not, others they would win instantly by that single initiative, but Tolan was one to push his luck to its fullest, even against gods, such thing proved useful against the moon lord's legions, however. And that notion would not escape Tolan so soon,

 

Pulling his sword out of the ground as Absalom began his attack, with an arching sword, a slow spin, predictable, the god was showing off, Tolan easily deflected the blow with his sword, not needing to put much force into the block, since it was but a medium sword clashing against a big one. "Pathetic" Tolan spoke as he blocked, but he soon saw what Absalom was planning, and with a flip the god threw a javelin at him, it happened very quickly, Tolan was actualy surprised, but not enough to be caught off guard, Tolan quickly did a pirouette of his own to the right the javelin barely passing by him without scratching him, luckily, his clothes didn't suffer damage, nor did he, but this showed him the god's speed and agility were none to be underestimated, and that Tolan was also an old man now, and his reflexes, far lower than he would be in his prime.

 

But old age came with a tradeoff for the slower reflexes, knowledge, the one thing that empowered moonlight the most. The older and wiser the being, the more powerful the magic would become naturaly when wielded by them and Tolan was very wise. Beginning to charge energy as his sword began to glow.

 

Seeing Absalom stuck on the ground by Kaspar's attack, gave Tolan ample opportunity to equally show off with the god, charging his blade, as moonlight spiraled around him, his sword glowing ever more, holding it towards the sky, as Tolan looked up as well...before looking down, locking eyes with Absalom, with a serious look, as Tolan's image blurred once again, almost like phasing, disappearing one second in a now not so bright flash of light, and appearing in front of Absalom, swinging down at the now stuck god with a powerful slice, which would not only deal high damage, both physical and magical, but also explode on contact, but Tolan knew the god would be able to take it, and followed it up with another attack.

 

Whether the attack was blocked or hit its mark was irrelevant as he Tolan did a jump back, spinning mid air as he sliced the sword toward's Absalom while spinning, sending out a massive blast of energy at the god, as Tolan landed on his feet...well...mostly, he was old, and as such he landed more or less on a kneeling position, with some panting. Damn, in his prime he'd match this god in stamina easily...

 

- Henry - The Dark Blade - Trying to save a little girl -

 

Henry was not exactly taken by surprise by Viridem's appearance, he had felt her aura nearby, just couldn't piece it who it was or what she wanted, though when she commented Henry sighed for a moment. 

"I gotta...and who are you?" Henry asked her, without turning around. "Call it stupidity, but I saw a village being attacked, and a small girl threatened, I can't sit back seeing that." Henry admitted why he was there, leaving all the cards on the table already, to ensure he had nothing to hide from Viridem, or the little girl if he got to her.

 

As the god, luit, landed near them, clearly spotting him and Viridem. "Oh shit..." Henry muttered with a look of surprise which turned into a frown, dammit. Too fast for him to see coming, the god was there in an instant and now walking towards them. Henry looked at Viridem, only now seeing the girl's appearance as he looked at her with a serious face. 

 

Henry soon looked at the god, matching the god's expression in seriousness, and neutrality. While waving for Viridem to either, get out of there and take the girl, or stay put and keep the girl safe, whatever the woman would choose would be fine, as long as the kid was safe and sound. Thinking to himself for a moment in clear desperation...'well damn...I mind as well', he finished his thoughts with a sigh and a shrug.

 

An awkward and menacing moment of silence befell the air around them, as Henry looked back at Luit straightening his stance, trying to look tough and respectable as best he could. "Im not gonna bother with stupid questions like why you've attacked the village and destroyed it, as thats is already done and over with...that and I can guess why." Henry spoke with a mournful tone at first, which became serious at the end,

"Nor will I threaten you with 'stay back of i'l kill you', now will I beg for my life, i'l only ask this...why do you gods attack us so? wage war against those who once served, praised you?" Henry asked him seriously.

 

"And please, no 'pathetic beings needing to be eliminated' or how your species is better than ours, that sounds too much like what an elder elf would say. I want a serious answer...for once." Henry spoke, matching the god's stance and attitude, sounding serious yet also with weight on his voice.

 

Henry was not backing down now, mind as well hope for some answers beforehand, and Viridem to get away safely with the kid if possible. 

Edited by Scrapmaster

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Hak looked to Zion. The goddess of light's distaste for what they were doing was well known. Hak had never understood why... These were vermin, no better than rats. Why not take them down? It was pointless to let them live their pathetic lives really. All they did was pollute the ground for the gods to stand on. This however, was not a subtle mention of distaste. This was an attack. Hak dodged simply feeling the air move around her. Infern did only a little more work than her, igniting his body into a powerful storm of heat, melting the weapons before they could touch him. Iuit did nothing, and though it was hard to tell if it was luck or something else at work, the flying weapons did not hit him. Hak did not have time to concern herself with anything else as Zion lashed out at her. She jetted sideways bringing out a wicked curved blade from beneath her cloak. She readied herself for an attack, but before she could do anything, Infern with a crazy laugh, charged towards Zion, the flames exuding off his body in waves of heat. "If you stand in my way I won't hold back!" The flaming god cried maniacally.

~

 

 

Zion didn't let her face betray anything. Infern always was a hothead, a showoff. Hak tended to let it flow...and letting it flow  was bad. All the weapons that had missed suddenly turned, lancing at Hak from behind as Zion flared her snow-white wings. Bolts of light lashed out, pelting Infern and Hak as she kicked back. Zion's face was set, the girl keeping her distance and moving. Infern was a powerful god, but what he tended to forget was fire needed fuel...and she knew that. So, she let him come, and once he was close, she smiled...and in her hand appeared a magic Sword of Light, which she then charged Infern when he was at his greatest speed, aiming to impale the very reckless god through the chest.

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Hak was taken aback by the sudden storm of swords at her back. She felt them coming and reacted as best she could, but the feeling of wind at her back was not the best way to figure out how to dodge. A few still hit her square, and they pierced her, but not as far as Zion was probably hoping. Gods were hearty beasts after all. It'd take more than a few swords to the back to end one. As Hak was recovering from the blow, Infern charged, not even taking slight notice of his companion's distress. His eyes were on a target, and as his flames burned still hotter and he flew still faster, he laughed, loudly, maniacally. He stopped laughing when she summoned a blade, taking him by surprise. He tried to move up, use his speed to flip over her before the blade made contact, but he was scarcely that lucky. The blade pierced his thigh, ripping out when he completed his flipping maneuver. He let out a scream of pain, turning to look at Zion, golden blood of the God's leaking to the ground. His eyes weren't loving the fun anymore. He took the heat and flames he built up, and in one scream let a clone of flames be issued from his body, charging towards Zion with nothing to lose.

~

"No one," Viridem said with a shrug. She didn't want to be known, not here. Getting your face and name out there just led to more Gods, and more Gods led to more pain. And/or death. Neither option was great. "And when a Goddess of light shows up and starts kicking ass is definitely the time when it's no longer your problem man. But hey, your life. I won't stop you." She continued, watching Iuit approach, his gait slow. Purposeful. Henry gave a general wave for her to get out of the way, and she scoffed. She'd get out of the way when she wanted to, not when he told her to. Her eyes glanced to the girl, who was now hiding behind the rock she was sitting upon. The Gods had all but forgotten her. Bigger problems to deal with she guessed.

 

Iuit shook his head in response to Henry's question. "You praise us no more. Until you do again, we will make sure you understand your inferiority. The Delians and Kelei know the smart way. They've bowed. Bow and swear yourself to me and I will see what place I can give you at my feet." Iuit said, his voice as powerful as his large frame looked. He had no doubt in his mind of his purpose. And no words from Henry would change that. The God continued to approach.

~

"We don't have to do anything to make you mortals weak!" Liquel called. It was true of course. Greys, Elves, Humans, it didn't matter. They were weak before the Gods had come. They would just be weaker afterwards. Irena made a complex move, and the two clones she targeted with that kick jetted away, avoiding getting hit. The third though, saw it as an opportunity, and leaped towards his victim. Of course, then the scythe came in, tearing through Liquel's clone like paper, dissolving into nothing. One of the other two winced, then looked back towards Irena, fire burning in his eyes too. Two more clones were produced, floating into existence. All four, with scythes drawn now, rushed in. The one in the back, leaped forward, springing up. The one directly in front, held his hands up just as he was needed for the clone to get a second leap in, and suddenly it dived down, swinging his scythe in a wide downward arc. The other two rushed at her straight on, scythes ready for a swing.

~

"Quiet." Seth's companion ordered. He glanced about, hoping no one had noticed. However, the two Gods near the high table had most definitely heard. Probably some god senses or some bullshit advantage at work. They were staring straight at Seth and himself. Ryonne shook his head. This was fine. They hadn't caused any problems, and not even Gods would want to ruin this party with blood. "Was just looking for a companion for the night. I'd prefer not to spend my time with phonies and bandwagoneers. Name's Ryonne." Ryonne introduced himself, keeping a careful eye on the Gods. And suddenly, the door between the Gods opened, and Aleksandr stepped out, in all his festive glory, a purple cloak over a regal dress. A crown was atop his head. One stolen. Ryonne watched the usurper quietly as he picked up a goblet on the high table, and tapped it with a spoon. The crowd dimmed swiftly, and now waited, watched for their kings words. Aleksandr smiled.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is so good to see all of you here! I hope to enjoy a delightful night of festivit..." Aleksandr was suddenly cut off by a singular boo, far in the back of the hall, all the way near the entrance. Ryonne glanced to Seth, as if asking him if he knew the voice. Ryonne craned to get a glance of the man, but couldn't. Too far away. Aleksandr simply cleared his throat, and snapped his fingers at his two God bodyguards, who immediately stepped to, and began to hunt through the crowd for the perpetrator.

~

Fierro watched as things turned immediately to shit. Phato took an arrow to her calf, stumbling and falling. The mage grimaced, but pulled out the arrow in her leg, letting out a cry of pain. Then she stood, and kept heading to the back. She needed to get that safe open. Mack wasn't expecting it now, but the dagger caught the chainmail under his robes. "Sweetie, I came prepared." He said, his grin never lessening. These loyalists thought they could beat them, calling him a traitor? Like that phased him. She was the traitor to Elfkind as far as he was concerned. He brought his pistol up to her, and fired the second barrel. He'd need to reload if he wanted to fire again, but with any luck he wouldn't need to. The ice wall had been melted by the other half-elf, but not a huge problem. They'd just have to work faster now. Fierro ushered the people to go help Phato, and sent some further upstairs to grab other things. There were some documents that they'd been told to grab, and these civilians would be good for that. Fierro took a deep breath, then rushed, aiming to tackle Brenainn from behind.

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Rabiyu - In the Treasury

 

Rabiyu was mouthing a spell, she was going to freeze him alive, but she noticed the movements of Mack. Everything appeared to move in slow motion, the criminal was surprised by the attack, but he was prepared as well. It took only a moment before he pointed his pistol at her, and fired. It was at that moment that the elf's misty cloak engulfed her and quickly moved her away from the shot. The mist gathered a few meters away, swirling on the ground, when an arrow shoot out of it and towards Mack, specifically towards the hand that was holding the gun.  After a couple of seconds the figure of Rabiyu was made whole again, and the cloak moved slightly in a nonexistent breeze on her back.
"It certainly looks that way." Rabiyu said to Mack, "Which means that this fight could take longer than planned."
The young Knight saw that the mage was indeed hurt, but still managed to keep moving. Something had to be done and fast. She then took notice of Brénainn, a half-elf she knew, if only by seeing him a few times around the city. He had tried to help her before, perhaps he could distract Mack while she took care of the mage.
"Master Brénainn, if you would be so kind as to keep this one occupied," she said, but it was not a question, "I need to deal with the one in the back before she does something stupid."
Without waiting for an answer the mist once again engulfed her and quickly flew between those who were escaping, or helping the criminals, and towards the safe. The mage, Phato, had to be stopped one way or another. She could use one of the forbidden spells in her repertory. The Fingernail of the Accused? She would be forced to do her bidding. The Venom? Quick death and no one would find a single clue that she ever existed. The Silencing? Everyone in the building turned to stone. The Harrowing? Too destructive, overkill.The last one was even worse than all combined. The mage was once again on Rabiyu's line of sight, and without wasting another moment the Elf shoot another arrow towards Phato, perhaps this time the arrow would hit a vital point.

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Zion, changed her location quickly, then raised her hand, letting Infern be the idiot he was. His recklessness, his inability to strategize with Hak, She splayed her fingers, light coalescing into a sphere. It began to spin, a small orbit of seven small orbs near it. She let Infern come, her wings fading away. She breathed easy.

"Winged Zero, give me your power...Oh dear son, your final breath remains my first. Angel's Freedom." from her hand erupted a massive burst of Light, fired straight at Infern. It was wide range, and Zion had made sure she was angled...so when Infern dodged, if he did, it would hit Hak. Either way, one of them would probably be hurt by it. Apart they were weak...and with both different, it was clear she would be victorious.

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-Seth — Aleksandr's ballroom-

"M-my apologies." Seth scanned the area towards the two gods, who at that point glared towards them. Seth forcefully restrained a smirk at their displeasure.

 

The man introduced himself as Ryonne. Seth couldn't help but admire his rebellious, vivacious spirit. The two were very similar in some ways. With a nod, He simply introduced himself as "Seth".

 

The double doors the Gods rested at revealed King Aleksandr, walking forth in an upright haughtiness. He was big, but his plumpness seemed to speak of something more than feasts and royal laziness. It seemed as if he was...

 

The clanging metal interrupted Seth's thoughts, as King Aleksandr spoke. Suddenly, a "Boo!" Erupted from the crowd — Ryonne and Seth glanced at each other, then Seth swiped his head at a girl. She was a similar age to the boys, and a familiar face at Seth's blacksmithing shop... Although she almost never came there for weapon, armor or tool repair. She didn't seem like she could afford it either, despite the low costs of Seth's shop for commoners; her clothes had tears along its seams, her hair was long, frizzed and grimy, and she carried a single small satchel.

 

With a snap of his fingers, Aleksandr sent the Gods off to detain the rebel. Seth thought quickly for a solution... The Gods drew closer to the back of the ballroom. The people didn't make it easier; as the Gods walked, they parted in either fear or encouragement, depending on whether they were commoner and middleclassmen or noble respectively. The halls echoed in their hurried footsteps.

 

In a flash moment, Seth stepped in front of the two Gods, blocking their way to the girl. He has to think of something clever — and fast — to say to the king without causing a frenzy. He knew he couldn't take on two Gods alone.

 

Yet...

 

"Oh great liege, King Aleksandr! Have I heard the most..." A pause, then in a snake-like tone "good things why, nary any King has ever done before. I beg forgiveness in your mighty presence, yet allow me to introduce myself nonetheless.

 

"Seth Astreal. Permit me to admit — such an act greatly displeases my humblest expectations."

 

Seth shoved past the dumbfounded gods, then took a large, dramatic and insincere bow "My words mean no blood-baned draw of swords... Yet, Your Grace, a den of sharks plagues my sound mind, a smell of blood arouses their very instinct, as does it all sharks. I insist you gather a newfound mercifulness, Your Grace. Lest it lead to other... discontent within your great hall." Seth bowed his head down, then rose to meet Aleksandr's eyes face-to-face, a slight grin on his face.

 

Seth outstretched his arms. To nobles, it represented negligence of a rapture in a delightful event, and defying Aleksandr's wishes of exposing the treacherous rebel. The life of a street rat matters little. In the common people's eyes, it was a challenge to Aleksandr — a challenge of the generations of poverty to the sickening indulgences of the rich.

 

What thoughts sway the King's hand, Seth thought. May the fall of an iron melder be the ruse of a rebellion?

Edited by Clouded Sun

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- Tolan - The Moonlight Hunter - Assisting the necromancer -

 

Tolan nodded at Kaspar as he focused on Absalom, who had now spoke, giving Tolan some hope for a good attack, sometimes Tolan reggreted letting his opponents attack first, times they would get strikes in, other not, others they would win instantly by that single initiative, but Tolan was one to push his luck to its fullest, even against gods, such thing proved useful against the moon lord's legions, however. And that notion would not escape Tolan so soon,

 

Pulling his sword out of the ground as Absalom began his attack, with an arching sword, a slow spin, predictable, the god was showing off, Tolan easily deflected the blow with his sword, not needing to put much force into the block, since it was but a medium sword clashing against a big one. "Pathetic" Tolan spoke as he blocked, but he soon saw what Absalom was planning, and with a flip the god threw a javelin at him, it happened very quickly, Tolan was actualy surprised, but not enough to be caught off guard, Tolan quickly did a pirouette of his own to the right the javelin barely passing by him without scratching him, luckily, his clothes didn't suffer damage, nor did he, but this showed him the god's speed and agility were none to be underestimated, and that Tolan was also an old man now, and his reflexes, far lower than he would be in his prime.

 

But old age came with a tradeoff for the slower reflexes, knowledge, the one thing that empowered moonlight the most. The older and wiser the being, the more powerful the magic would become naturaly when wielded by them and Tolan was very wise. Beginning to charge energy as his sword began to glow.

 

Seeing Absalom stuck on the ground by Kaspar's attack, gave Tolan ample opportunity to equally show off with the god, charging his blade, as moonlight spiraled around him, his sword glowing ever more, holding it towards the sky, as Tolan looked up as well...before looking down, locking eyes with Absalom, with a serious look, as Tolan's image blurred once again, almost like phasing, disappearing one second in a now not so bright flash of light, and appearing in front of Absalom, swinging down at the now stuck god with a powerful slice, which would not only deal high damage, both physical and magical, but also explode on contact, but Tolan knew the god would be able to take it, and followed it up with another attack.

 

Whether the attack was blocked or hit its mark was irrelevant as he Tolan did a jump back, spinning mid air as he sliced the sword toward's Absalom while spinning, sending out a massive blast of energy at the god, as Tolan landed on his feet...well...mostly, he was old, and as such he landed more or less on a kneeling position, with some panting. Damn, in his prime he'd match this god in stamina easily...

 

 

 

- Kaspar, locked in battle with the Celestial Twins alongside Tolan -

 

With a twisted ankle, Absalom winced in pain and struggled to move at first, but quickly recuperated as time went on, his stamina surpassing the burning throb in his foot.  He moved back a few paces, weapon at the ready and his eyes fixated upon the two, especially Tolan as he charged magic into his blade.  An age-old trick, that, but a rare one.  A spellblade does not often emerge outside of the realm of the gods, but even though Tolan was less than divine did not mean he was to be taken as any less deadly.

 

Absalom caught wind of Tolan's tricky, flashy maneuver and matched scimitar with great blade, his great strength counteracting the ferocious momentum of the Moon Lord's blade but not the magical power.  An explosion of moonlight energy erupted out of the swing, burning Absalom's skin, especially that which was exposed from his battle raiment, but the god gritted his teeth and tried to force the blade to the side to attack Tolan with a riposte.

 

Such a move, however, was sadly nullified by a withdrawal and a secondary attack, and Absalom felt a sensation of dread as a crescent slash of energy came down on him, rippling with moonlight.  It came, it saw an end to Absalom and cut him in twain about the midsection, and it conquered.  Veni vidi vici.

 

Kaspar watched the demise of a god through the corner of his eye and cursed his luck under his breath.  While the battle was intense and brilliantly won by Tolan's part, something bothered him about it, and he was not afraid of saying his mind.

 

"I hope you intend that we deal with the other a little more cleanly," he remarked.  "I want a whole body to try to reanimate, not halves of one or both."

 

His eyes narrowed as the sensation of corrupting darkness came to him and he took a whirling sidestep.  It was too slow.  A black arrow pierced through his upper arm, just barely missing the bone and remaining in.  He let out a croak and clutched his injured side, struggling to pull the arrow out of him before it pollutes him too heavily.

 

"You . . . struck down . . . my brother!" Ahinoam heaved through great breaths, his bow still raised and prepping a newly nocked arrow.  In the distance, blackened flames made up of darkness energy covering the corpses Kaspar reanimated and a few portions of the ground.  Unrefined darkness magic had a tendency of lingering.  "For you there will be . . . no peace!"

 

Another arrow was sent in Tolan's direction, fast and powerful and spinning.  Kaspar realised that this was bad.  Ahinoam was calm and fluid beforehand, but the way he must have dealt with his corpses was different than the bow and arrow, and perhaps more dangerous to both him and Tolan.  Mid-thought, he tore out the entirety of the black arrow, feeling an agony far worse than a normal arrow.  That agony was not the worst of it, however.  He still had to deal with the corruptive nature of it.

 

Tolan and Ahinoam had to wait.  In the meantime he pressed a hand on the entry wound and drew out the darkness like a poison.  Only afterwards did his unhealing magic work, knitting together his flesh like a terrible surgeon.  It did not look pretty, but his arm was almost as good as new, almost.

 

((On a tangent, Ahinoam means "brother of peace" in Hebrew and Absalom in turn means "father of peace."  Why I paired them as brothers and not father and son is beyond me.  =P ))

 

 

 

Rabiyu - In the Treasury

 

Rabiyu was mouthing a spell, she was going to freeze him alive, but she noticed the movements of Mack. Everything appeared to move in slow motion, the criminal was surprised by the attack, but he was prepared as well. It took only a moment before he pointed his pistol at her, and fired. It was at that moment that the elf's misty cloak engulfed her and quickly moved her away from the shot. The mist gathered a few meters away, swirling on the ground, when an arrow shoot out of it and towards Mack, specifically towards the hand that was holding the gun.  After a couple of seconds the figure of Rabiyu was made whole again, and the cloak moved slightly in a nonexistent breeze on her back.
"It certainly looks that way." Rabiyu said to Mack, "Which means that this fight could take longer than planned."
The young Knight saw that the mage was indeed hurt, but still managed to keep moving. Something had to be done and fast. She then took notice of Brénainn, a half-elf she knew, if only by seeing him a few times around the city. He had tried to help her before, perhaps he could distract Mack while she took care of the mage.
"Master Brénainn, if you would be so kind as to keep this one occupied," she said, but it was not a question, "I need to deal with the one in the back before she does something stupid."
Without waiting for an answer the mist once again engulfed her and quickly flew between those who were escaping, or helping the criminals, and towards the safe. The mage, Phato, had to be stopped one way or another. She could use one of the forbidden spells in her repertory. The Fingernail of the Accused? She would be forced to do her bidding. The Venom? Quick death and no one would find a single clue that she ever existed. The Silencing? Everyone in the building turned to stone. The Harrowing? Too destructive, overkill.The last one was even worse than all combined. The mage was once again on Rabiyu's line of sight, and without wasting another moment the Elf shoot another arrow towards Phato, perhaps this time the arrow would hit a vital point.

Fierro watched as things turned immediately to shit. Phato took an arrow to her calf, stumbling and falling. The mage grimaced, but pulled out the arrow in her leg, letting out a cry of pain. Then she stood, and kept heading to the back. She needed to get that safe open. Mack wasn't expecting it now, but the dagger caught the chainmail under his robes. "Sweetie, I came prepared." He said, his grin never lessening. These loyalists thought they could beat them, calling him a traitor? Like that phased him. She was the traitor to Elfkind as far as he was concerned. He brought his pistol up to her, and fired the second barrel. He'd need to reload if he wanted to fire again, but with any luck he wouldn't need to. The ice wall had been melted by the other half-elf, but not a huge problem. They'd just have to work faster now. Fierro ushered the people to go help Phato, and sent some further upstairs to grab other things. There were some documents that they'd been told to grab, and these civilians would be good for that. Fierro took a deep breath, then rushed, aiming to tackle Brenainn from behind.

 

 

 

- Brénainn Loth, assisting Rabiyu with the Treasury crisis -

 

Brénainn was very much relieved to see that the elfin girl with whom he was paired up had a few aces up her sleeve, dodging a very literal bullet by dissipating into mist and reforming elsewhere to continue the fight.  The relief was short-lived as his bottom half was taken from under him, and he crumbled to the ground thanks to a newcomer to his eyes.

 

"Get off!" he called out, shifting his upper body enough to try whacking Fierro on the side of the head with his staff a few times.

 

Whether or not he succeeded, he overheard Rabiyu call out to him and agreed with her.  The mage had to be dealt with.  Cancelling the speed enhancement spell, he cooked up a particularly useful spell for such a situation.

 

"Twining serpents of Ouroboros, I summon your like.  Bind!  Bind!"

 

Two ropes of magical weave swept out of the top of his staff, the one not poking out at Fierro, and he fixated his eyes on the one at his ankles first before moving to Mack.  The magic spiralled up at first before coming down upon its targets, trying its best to tangle around both victims and ensnare them.  That should help with matters, or at least so he hoped.  He saw others rush further into the treasury instead of out, and that meant ill.

Edited by Vaude

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- Henry - The Dark Blade - Standing off against Luit - 

 

Henry's eyes narrowed for a moment as the god gave answered his questions, in his face the look of...disappointment? Henry looked for a few seconds as Luit approached, before slowly coming up with a chuckle, it starting low as it became somewhat audible, not hysterical, just audible to those near him. 

 

Henry extended a hand in front of Luit, hopefuly stopping the god's approach as it was Henry's turn to speak, "So let me get this straight, you do all of this. so that we can feel like you're superior to us? so you can feel better than us? so we can praise you?" Henry spoke as he brought a hand to his chin, his voice with the tone of sarcasm, clearly Henry wasn't having any of this god's shit today. 

 

"Need I remind you that YOU gods abandoned the humans and elves long ago, left us to fend for ourselves? and then you come back, attacking us, wanting us to praise you again?" Henry spoke, as he couldn't resist bursting out a chuckle. "Please, what happened? got lonely? needed to feel special by having someone praise you? just look at yourself."  "want us to welcome you back with open arms? after you murdered countless of our own?" Henry's expression turned serious for a moment as his dark energy spiked for a moment. 

 

"Im sorry, but anyone who tries to justify large scale genocide is no 'god' at all. And the irony to top it all off...I thought angels came from the sky..." Henry spoke, clearly serious now as he felt anger well up inside him as his Dark energy reacted to his emotions as a result, increasing in power gradualy. "You're no god, you're just the common thug who feels better by bullying others, too insecure to treat others right so you have to beat them, I don't bow to anyone with that kind of morality" Henry spoke one last word as he moved his hand to his sword's handle. 

 

Henry knew he might not stand much of a chance against Luit, but dammit if he wasn't about to try, at least until that blonde goddess finished up the other two and notice Luit. 

 

 

 

- Tolan - The Moonlight Hunters - In battle alongside Kaspar -

 

"Disappointing..." Tolan spoke as he saw what became of Absalom, a dead husk cut in half. Scoffing at Kaspar's remarks about the brother of said god. As Tolan shrugged. "I didn't expect him to die from that, I expected more...as for your question, it'l depend on him." Tolan replied to Kaspar in a gruff tone of voice. As Tolan picked up his blade and lifed it over his shoulder with one hand.

 

However things happened fast, Kaspar was hit by a dark arrow as Tolan reacted too slowly, surprised. "Are you alrigh-" Tolan was interrupted by  Ahinoam's anger. "Great..." Tolan cursed under his breath. Only barely avoiding the arrow shot at him from Ahinoam, sense just as intact as his prime, however his body was clearly slower, the arrow didn't hit him, but it passed just by his left arm, cutting it as it flew. Darkness stung his arm, but Tolan had just the thing.

 

Placing his sword on his back and channeling Moonlight onto his right hand, he pressed his hand upon the wound, as clear burn sounds and pained grunts could be heard from him. Moonlight gave off a burning sensation, after all it was raw power. However said raw power had the distinct trait of removing most ailments, especialy elemental ones. Within a few seconds the wound was fully cauterized, the darkness gone from his arm. But he now had a small burn mark on his arm for a time. This would go out with time.

 

"You were too busy fighting undead husks to help your poor little brother." Tolan began taunting the god, as he returned to his stance, taking his sword off his back and holding it in front of him, pointing it towards Ahinoam. "You couldn't save him, how does it feel?" Tolan's voice changing from tough taunting to just plain serious, after all Tolan had gone through losing a loved one before...

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