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Sir Nathaniel

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  1. Summary. Nathan did not arrive in time to defeat Lilith or prevent her from taking the crown. Seeing the Battle at a loss, he turned about and headed for Genesaris, where he knew an important potential ally might be waiting for him. A message was sent to both the Watchers and their allies in Landonia and detailing the plan to make for safe havens on their ship. Regardless of the end of this battle, he said, the war was far from over. There would come another day, he declared. Nu Martyr was not a place, he explained. It was where their people stood. The Watchers, ever loyal to their leader and his ideals followed his instructions to the letter. As many refugees and soldiers as could be found were evacuated from Nu Martyr and brought aboard their ship. Hundreds, if not thousands of lives were saved. A small contingent of troops remained behind to continue the resistance and prepare for the future liberation of their country. Lilith's victory today would not go without cost. When all were aboard, the Watchers departed from Nu Martyr to Genesaris, bloodied but undaunted and unbroken. ~Thread participation concluded~
  2. Color me surprised. I think sometime real soon, I'll post a summary of the Watchers and what their leader is up to after finding out that he wasn't able to stop Lilith. Doesn't mean he's given up on that however. He still very much intends to put his sword through her face, but not at the moment. Glad to hear from you, Ataraxy.
  3. Name: Gale Hawk. Gender: Male. Race: Human-Fairy Hybrid. Current Age: 25. Hair Color: Red. Eye Color: Blue. Build: Lean. Height: 6'4. Weight: 185 lbs. Profession: Knight. Fighter. Adventurer. Appearance: Armored. Unmasked. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Appearance: Gale is the both the tallest and leanest member of the Watchers - with long limbs and slim physique. He has shoulder length red hair and dark blue eyes - and unlike Nathan or the Morn twins, he is always clean shaven. In battle, he wears an ornate suit of blue armor with white trimmings made to resemble the moon. In plainclothes, he is known for being something of a fashionista. He is often seen wearing a variety of different outfits, mostly suits and smart casual attire - blazers, coats, jeans, dress shirts and shoes of all kinds. Personality: Gale, for lack of better term is complicated. He has struggled his entire life with his ego and with his temper. Born and raised among the Fairy Folk, he was brought up with the mentality that he and his people were superior to all races on Valucre. However, the fact he was half human by his father's side meant he was seen as a second class citizen and treated as an exile by his peers. This created a great amount of anger and insecurity in him - which he has tried to conceal with a razor sharp wit and biting sarcasm. He is quick to make wise cracks and jokes often, though as Nathan notes, he rarely ever laughs himself and almost never smiles. He dislikes socializing and would much rather be in his gardens, tending to the plants and trees - as he feels most at home in nature rather than urban environments. Though it need not be said Gale dislikes people, there are individuals he is truly fond of - his teammates in the Watchers especially, he regards them as family. He looks up to Nathan as a father-figure and Max as his younger brother figure, even though they are not blood related. Arthur and Elias he is on good terms with, the younger Morn twin in particular he considers a close friend and has an unrequited infatuation with. Given he is half-Fairy, he holds a loose, laissez-fair attitude towards sexuality and relationships - being quick to connect to others who are like him, showing he has great compassion and care for the disenfranchised and outcasts of society. Having lost his homeland and his people with the Doom of Iselyr, Gale has tried to keep his team's spirits up and has further retreated into himself as an effort to mask his pain. As per Nathan's suggestion however, he has recently been attempting to contact any other Fairy Folk as an attempt to find some closure, showing he has not totally lost hope. Also to note, Gale enjoys looking at the Moon and has a deep, lasting love of the Seas and Oceans and has remarked the mere sight of such is enough to cheer him when he is depressed. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ History: Born out of wedlock in E'Kraun Forest to the Fairy, Asana and a human knight, Gale was brought up among the Undine people of Iselyr. He learned etiquette and received a proper education from his mother, but never knew his father, as Fairy-Human relations were cold at this time. Rumor quickly spread of his parentage and from an early age, he was treated as an outcast by the other children in his home - finding he much preferred the company of animals. He became quite skilled as an animal breeder, herbology and in botany as a result. As was normal for his people, he developed use and control of Magic by the time he had reached 5 years of age. By the time he reached his adolescent years, he had developed an intellect rivaling the Fair Folk's greatest minds. When he had reached his teen years, he met the man who would become his greatest mentor and ally - Nathaniel Jameson. The Golden Paladin had earned the trust of the Fairy people and had good relations with Asana. The two became fast friends, with Nathan offering to train the young fairy in the arts of swordplay and unarmed combat. Gale accepted and became a skilled fighter - with his particular brand of Magic making him a unique, unpredictable combatant. Also during this time, Gale became the best of friends, rivals and training partner to Max. Together, they became an unstoppable trio in the war for their homeland - with the three of them destroying hundreds of demons. Gale became known as the group's greatest tactician; his intimate knowledge of strategy and the landscape proving invaluable time after time. In the end, the three would never achieve their goal of liberating Iselyr, as the continent was ultimately destroyed during an event known as the Doom, in which the entire continent sank beneath the waves. Gale and his compatriots were away from the continent at the time as they were on a mission at sea, attempting to capture a Kraken. When they saw their home gone, Gale was distraught - but joined his comrades in journeying to Genesaris to contact his cousin, Maxwell in finding a new home. With that, the three made landfall in the Cold Mountains where they met the Dragon, Mladris, recruited the Fallen Angel, Jophiel and set off to Mageside City. Upon reaching the great city, Gale became a founding member of the Watchers. To this day, he remains one of Nathan's most steadfast allies. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Weapon: Sword. Moonlit Night is the name of Gale's sword. An ornate Ninjato, it has a single edged blade that measures at 35 inches long and 4 inches thick. Made from Iselyrian steel, it is virtually indestructible and especially potent against demons. Powers and Abilities: Given that he is half-Fairy, Gale has a natural affinity for Magic. Nathan believes that were he to focus exclusively on the mystical arts, he would become an immensely powerful mage. As of the present, Gale focuses on a mix of swordplay, hand-to-hand-combat and the use of a limited form of Magical prowess - giving him a unique blend of offense and defense. Master Swordsman: Trained by Nathan and sparring partner to Max, Gale is a masterful sword-fighter with a specialty in a unique form of fencing he dubs "Blade Dancing" - using fluid footwork, extremely agile movements and graceful slashing arcs. His movements on the battlefield are akin to that of an ice-skater or a professional dancer. He is superbly skilled at avoiding damage, even with the weight of his armor. Noted to be the second most skilled swordsman of the group (after Nathan himself) Gale frequently duels his mentor to a standstill - and has twice managed to defeat even the highly skilled Garun Dugall with Max's assistance. Master Combatant: Gale's prowess in hand-to-hand combat is top-notch as well - the equal of Elias and a shade more skillful than Max. Specializing in spin kicks, swift elbow and knee strikes - Gale's style of fighting greatly resembles a combination of Capoeira, Muay Thai and the Monkey, Crane and Snake styles of Wushu. His prowess is great enough to allow him to best his friend in a sparring match and very nearly defeat Sir Arthur. Water Manipulation: Like all Fairies, Gale was born with affinity for a particular brand of Magic - his is based around manipulation of all forms of the element of water; be it liquid, vapor or solid forms such as ice. He can pull in moisture from any source - be it the air or even in the human body. He can control the density and temperature of water - enabling him to solidify it into ice or make it as fluid and shapeless as mist. At full power, he can create tsunamis, on-land whirpools and grueling rainstorms or hailstorms that can batter opponents. In his own words, though mountains may stand tall and proud, waves will eventually reduce them to pebbles. In controlling temperature he can create ice-spikes, walls or even solid constructs - or he can alternately make pressurized water hot enough to boil and cause third degree burns. Lastly, though he never actually uses it, Gale does possess the ability to manipulate the water in the human body - in doing so, he could theoretically control body movement, or more insidiously, remove all moisture from a body and cause death by instantaneous dehydration. As per Jameson's advice, he never uses his power in this way, viewing it a unethical to the extreme. Genius Intellect: Gale is regarded as the most tactically sound, most intelligent member of the Watchers' team. Described by Isaac Crane as "cunning, innovative, intuitive, observant and strategically brilliant". His memory, thought processing, information storage and deductive reasoning allow him to not only piece together solid conclusions but also come up with complex strategies, even in the heat of battle. Moreover, his intuition combined with his logical thinking make it exceptionally difficult to catch him off guard. Whether commanding a single unit team or a large army of hundreds of thousands of troops, Gale is the one that Nathan turns to when it comes to logistics, tactical thinking (when Arthur does not fulfill this role) and data analysis. Magically Enhanced Condition: Gale's half-Fairy physiology and flair for Magic enable him to perform at an Olympic physical level. His flawless mix of strength, speed, agility, balance, flexibility and bodily coordination make him a formidable combatant. Enhanced Strength: Though uninterested in raw might, Gale's strength is still noted as well above normal. Through Magic enhancement and frequent weightlifting exercises, (especially Olympic lifting) he has achieved a level of strength that surpasses Arthur and rivals Elias. His total lifting records stand at a bench-press of 720 pounds, squat of 970 and a deadlift of 950. Through use of his strength, he has staggered Max with his kicks, smashed through solid wood and thin metal doors and nearly match Nathan in a contest of strength. Enhanced Speed: Noted as the fastest member of the Watchers' team, Gale has exceptionally powerful legs that allow him to reach a top running speed of 40 miles per hour. He has surpassed a professional sprinter in a contest, outrun a charging warhorse and moved with such speed that even the assassin Dugall had difficulty keeping up. Gale's reaction time and reflexes are similarly enhanced - enabling him to snatch arrows out of the air, avoid attacks coming at him from every direction and disarm and knock out four armed opponents in 3.2 seconds. Enhanced Agility: Using his amazing reflexes, bodily coordination and considerable flexibility, Gale can perform any number of acrobatic feats. He can climb to the highest building and mountain peaks with few handholds, perform high jumps, backflips, cartwheels, handstands and other athletic movements with almost no effort or difficulty. Enhanced Stamina: Through high intensity aerobics and cardiovascular training, Gale's body produces far less fatigue toxins than normal, enabling him to perform at peak function for 24 hours before the buildup impairs him. As such, he can perform all kinds of acrobatic feats, fight for hours on end without stopping or run for several marathon length distances, all without displaying any tiredness at all. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Weaknesses: Though he is rightly regarded as an immensely powerful fighter on par with Jameson, Gale does have a few glaring weaknesses. Insecurity: Gale's own doubts and fears can be used against him by a manipulative opponent and those who know him well enough. Given enough time and persuasion, he could succumb to despair and be rendered less effective in combat. Attraction: As he is a noted homosexual, Gale displays a weakness for attractive male figures - something Isaac notes in his files about the Watchers. He believes that the perfect way to distract him and neutralize his intelligence is to confront him with a man that meets his standards. Urban Environment: Because he feels more comfortable in natural areas, Gale dislikes being in large cities and becomes notably disgruntled and disoriented in heavily industrialized areas where he feels cut off from nature. Electricity: Because he manipulates water, Gale's primary weakness is electrical currents. As water is highly conductible, he will take additional damage from lightning and other electrical based attacks. Cold Iron: Being half-human, Gale has some resistance to cold iron but is by no means immune to its effects. His half-fairy physiology means that if he is exposed to cold iron in its raw form, he will significantly weaken. Furthermore, his magical powers are all but useless against it - and so Isaac speculates the best way to defeat Gale is to trap him in an iron cage - cutting him off from his primary source of power.
  4. "Duly noted." Nathan said, giving the other man a nod. With that, he gave a slight smile. "I can only hope your Commander leaves some of the fun for me. Do not mind Arthur, he is a good man - and an excellent fighter. He simply needs learn to control his tongue better. Regardless of his mouth, I can think of no better man to lead my team. With all that I am, I am truly thankful for your intervention. I hope we meet again - at the victory feast, celebrating the Cult's utter defeat." And I hope you raise a glass in my memory should this mission fail. Nathan thought as he turned away and headed back to his ship. Despite his brave face, Nathan knew there was a very good chance he was walking to his death. That notion did not bother him though. Death was a constant companion in his line of work - its shadow loomed over him every time he threw himself into the fight. The only thing he could hope for was that his actions made the world just a little better - that he could drag as many of his foes down with him as possible - and that after he drew his last breath he could reunite with his loved ones in Paradise. As Nathan strapped himself into the command seat of the ship, activated the controls and started off on his departure, he decided a little speech might be in order. Patching into the Vox frequency on an open channel through the communications headset, he cleared his throat and sent out a broadcast to any that might be listening. "Citizens of Nu Martyr, this is Sir Nathaniel Jameson, leader of the Watchers team. I send this message to you from a liberated Landonia. This is not the end. Barely a day ago, the Cult of Power entered your country. They came not as friends and equals, but as murderers and would-be conquerors. They have mercilessly slain many of your citizens and enslaved their corpses in service to their dark leader, Lilith. No doubt many of you have lost friends, comrades and loved ones. They believed you would be easily defeated. That you would surrender to despair - that you would be like animals to the slaughter.' 'We have proven them wrong. Twice now, the Watchers have assisted your defense forces in decimating their armies. You have fought them at Parish, at Landonia, at Hungary and Kadia. Your living countrymen are still fighting now. Even as I speak, the enemy is approaching your cities. They will soon be in your homes, on your streets and your rooftops, roaming the underbelly of your cities. To all those who still live - to all refugees and to the brave defenders, I say to you the same thing I tell my comrades as they move on to the next battle: Keep fighting. The enemy corpses will not falter, but should we cut off the head of the snake - the body will die. Target any living enemy commanders and the hordes will crumble. If all of you do your duty to your country, I know in my heart we can win. Hold out as long as you are able - then take a rest - then stand and fight more. Keep fighting - I promise, you will prevail.' 'To our enemies in the Cult of Power, I say this - you have come here to die. The Watchers are here and we are invincible. Our swords and spears wait to rip you to shreds. Our Magic will tear your bodies and souls asunder. The veterans of the War in Iselyr await to add you to their tally. We have prevailed against ruthless enemies before - the Leviathan, Leraje, even a King of Hell itself, Beleth has fallen before our might. You cannot win. Will not win. So long as even one of my men stands against you, you will never be victorious!' 'And to Lilith, I say this... make ready your defenses; for I am coming for you.'" And with that, his ship's engines roared to life - and it was off in a flash at full speed.
  5. I'm eager to see what you lot have planned. As for my gang, Nathan intends to go for the head while the other Watchers cure the undead sickness. Put otherwise, I'll be ready anytime for the next battle.
  6. Sir Nathaniel

    Valucre Wars

    I'm not sure if it still counts as canon, but there was a war fought between the Knights of the New Dawn and the demons occupying Iselyr. It's part of the Watchers backstory. There was an offscreen war between a rebel faction in Cosanastre, Sector 2 and its previous regime under a tyrant called Noice, but again that's of dubious canon. Armed conflict as I'm aware of is somewhat rare on Valucre, but I very much do intend to participate in as many more as possible.
  7. Defenders, Landonia. "Our numbers consist of myself and my knights: Max, Gale, Arthur and Elias." Nathan gestured to the Landonian troops still standing and gathering the dead. "Our numbers now are less than when this great assault started - but still great enough to challenge battle should there be another." Behind Nathan, Max had just finished lighting the last of the corpse piles - his enhanced strength and healing had allowed him to recover his full potential in considerably less time than any normal man. No doubt though, he would be wanting a massive meal once they had a chance. Battle had drained him and there was too little sunlight to draw power from. "The Order of Force Majeure?" He murmured, almost to himself. "The threat must be great indeed." "Yes." Said Arthur with a snort. "How fortunate for the good people of Nu Martyr that they have such keen eyed eagles standing vigil over their gates." His tone was sarcastic - and he opened his mouth as if to give another quip but a silent, angry glare from Nathan silenced him. When the Watcher's leader turned back to Gideon, his expression had softened. "I believe together, our chance for survival increases. Our next objective was to strike Hungary and attempt to disrupt the enemy's forces. With the use of our airship, though I have another idea in mind." He turned to his men. "I want the four of you to head over with our friends to their objective. I will take our ship on an... errand." The other Watchers looked at him as if he had gone insane. Arthur was the first to speak up. "But Jameson, you're our leader. We need you." This time, his tone was sincere. "The defenders need you." "And in my absence, you, Arthur will lead." Nathan replied. Before his compatriots could interrupt, he raised his hand. "I will return to you as soon as I am able. I give you my word." "So where are you going off to then?" Gale asked. "Should you not be heading to the fight?" "Plenty of fight to go around, Gale." Nathan said, clenching his fists. His eyes started to take on their blue glowing tint. "I intend to take this battle to Lilith herself." That got everyone's attention. Even the Landonian troops stopped what they were doing and listened. "Master, have you taken leave of your senses? She's a sorceress of incredible power!" Max cried. "Attacking her head on alone is suicide!" "Not with what I have planned." Nathan replied calmly. "Please understand; I have to do this alone. All of you are to head to Hungary and disrupt the enemy's forces." With more force of his own, he barked. "That's an order." Reluctantly, each of them nodded - then walked towards the Invictus Nova - and all but Arthur did not look back. For just a moment, it looked as if he wanted to speak but could not find the words. With a slow shake of his head, he joined his comrades. Nathan would long remember the stare he gave. Was it sadness? Grief? Rage? Or was it fear of the possibility his closest friend might be rushing to his death? With that, Nathan offered his hand to Gideon. "Take care of my men. They are the bravest, most dependable fighters I have ever known. Every one of them. Go with my thanks - and with luck. I go to strike the head of the enemy."
  8. All the Watchers live in their benefactor's spacious mansion in Mageside City, Genesaris. All of them have separate rooms. All of them are suited to their personal tastes. Pretty soon though, Arthur will establish an independent base for himself in Shrine City. A "Batcave" if you will. He's more than saved enough money to get himself a house and paranoid enough to build himself a panic room. Otherwise, he keeps a spare room for his adopted daughter; full of books, toys, what have you. Originally, the three brothers were born in and lived in Iselyr. Arthur and Elias were born in Shrine City - though the latter moved to Hell's Gate for a year, then to Dougton. Dugall has a hideout for himself in Martial Town - spacious and largely devoid of ornamentation, except for the grisly trophies he takes from his assassination missions: Weapons mostly. He was born in Hell's Gate then moved to MT because he likes the merc work.
  9. Name: Maximus "Max" Album (Latin for White) Gender: Male. Race: Human. (Enhanced Condition) Current Age: 24. Hair Color: White. (Formerly black) Eye Color: Blue. Build: Muscular. (Mesomorphic body type) Height: 5'7. Weight: 220 lbs. Profession: Crusader. Knight. Fighter. Adventurer. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Appearance: Standing at 5'8 and weighing 220 pounds, Max is the shortest member of the Watchers' team, though he is by far the most muscular and 'pretty boy' of their number. His facial features are soft, smooth and almost effeminate - with many women considering him highly attractive. His hair reaches shoulder length, being completely white in color - though formerly it was black as coal. His eyes are blue and gentle - once remarked that they resemble a clear summer sky. Under his clothes, he has a number of faded scars - the most prominent of which is a set from a claw on his right bicep from where a demon slashed him. He often wears simple, functional clothes - baggy shirts and trousers with leather boots and fingerless black gloves. In battle, he wears steel plate armor, polished to a high sheen - consisting of a breastplate, shoulder plates, gauntlets, leggings and greaves meant to protect his limbs while providing him with maximum flexibility. He declines the use of a helmet, as his skull is noted to be exceptionally thick and durable - stating the limits to his vision and the fact it is unnecessary as the reason. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Personality: Bright, sunny and optimistic are the best words to describe this devout warrior. Max is a cheerful, friendly man that makes friends easily and always tries to look at the better side of any situation. Devout, almost to a fault, he is obsessed with the idea that he is a living weapon of the divine. Though some would label him a fanatic, this actually is a misnomer. He finds no fault with other religions; in fact, he is fairly open minded with other spiritual beliefs, with the sole exception being demons. His personal philosophy is that all gods are in fact aspects of a single, omnipotent Creator deity. In his mind, the demonic are the root and source of all evil and must be purged. He has a tendency to quote scriptures in battle and loudly proclaims his intention to eradicate all corruption from the world. During the war for his homeland, he gleefully destroyed hundreds of demons, achieving a reputation as the Order's foremost expert on dispatching the creatures of Hell. Having experienced firsthand the benevolence and beauty of the Angels, Max holds his mission is a sacred one - he is to act as an instrument of righteousness. Max is unfailingly loyal and polite to his friends, whom he views as his family - as he was an orphan, he views Nathan as his father-figure and mentor, being the most ready to defer to his judgment. In turn, Nathan views Max as dependable, brave and the physical powerhouse of their team. Max has a good relationship with Gale - regarding him as his closest friend, both among the Watchers and in general. The two of them often have friendly competitions and try to best the other in contests of strength and skill. Win or lose, Max enjoys competing for the sake of it and even applauds his friend whenever he is bested by the Fairy Knight. Though they rarely interact as much as the others, Max holds a great amount of respect for the Morn twins. Arthur he holds in great regard; recognizing his authority as the second-in-command of the team and thinking of him as its greatest tactician. As well, he appreciates how Arthur recognizes his abilities beyond his brawn, acknowledging his skill as a wrestler and training partner. Elias, Max regards as a kindred spirit for their similar world views - though he is sometimes annoyed by his womanizing ways, he recognizes it's all in good fun. Further, Max appreciates how close to animals Elias is and the two of them enjoy spending time caring for the horses in the stables. Max also has a close bond with his horse, Duke, whom he has cared for since he was a colt. The two share a unique bond among the Watchers - with Max preferring to ride the horse rather than travel by airship. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Bio: Many years ago, a child was found on the doorstep of one of the Golden Order's Chapter Houses in Le'Chery, Iselyr. It is not known who his original parents were, though some suspect him to be the child of peasants or possibly an unwanted bastard of a noble family, but neither theory has ever been proven. The Order gave the nameless child the name Maximus, meaning greatest, as it was believed that his coming was a sign from the Gods to be their champion. The boy quickly proved to be extremely strong - surpassing even adult men with his feats of physical might. His father-figure during his early years was a monk named Tor, the very same man that had trained Nathan in the rites of the faithful. Tor was a kind soul and taught the boy to read and write, noting his brilliant mind and exceptional memory - as well as how pious and quick he was to believe in the Seven Gods of Virtue. Shortly after he turned fourteen, Max became Nathan's apprentice - accompanying his master on numerous missions and training to use his strength to fight for the Order. Also around this time, the Golden Order came into contact with a being seemingly made of light - a being that called itself Uriel - asking for Max by name. In the chapel where he had spent so many nights praying, Max knelt before this being and watched as the figure poured its blood into a cup - compelling him to drink of it. The moment the blood touched his lips, Max was transformed. His hair had turned white - and he gained heightened strength, speed and dexterity, but more importantly, a new insight to his existence and the universe at large. As he downed the last of the blood, Uriel vanished with the parting message: "You have found favor with Heaven. In you now dwells its fire. Use it well." From that day onward, Max set himself to work dispatching the creatures of Hell and their mortal slaves; eradicating hundreds of them, sometimes dozens at a time. Over the course of the next three years, he became acquainted with Gale, fought on the losing side of the Battle of Gorand, liberated E'Kraun Forest and assisted Nathan in destroying Beleth, one of the Four Kings of Hell. Right around when he was about to turn twenty one, he and Tor had a disagreement regarding his participation in a mission to capture a Kraken for the Order. Though he had come to love the man like a father, Max broke ties with his mentor and departed the chapel in a rage. Ironically, his volunteering for the mission was the very thing that saved his life when Iselyr disappeared beneath the waves in what became known as "The Doom". As he and his companions were out at sea when the continent sank, they alone were spared from the disaster. With no homeland to return to, the three of them departed for Genesaris - landing in the Cold Mountains a month later. With that, the group made their way to Mageside City, where they formed the Watchers team. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Weapons: Swords. Sunrise and Sunset are the names of Max's twin short swords. Both are cruciform in design - double edged blades with sharp, elongated tips for thrusting and stabbing. Made from Iselyrian steel, they are enchanted with anti-demonic magics that enable them to harm hellspawn on the spiritual level as well as on the physical plane. If a demon is dealt a fatal blow using these blades, their very essence is permanently destroyed. As they were forged using Iselyrian magics, they can operate even on other continents. Also to note, they are immune to the effects of Max's holy fire and its temperature - in fact, they seem to greatly enhance the effects of his powers. In times when Max needs additional power or is faced with one overwhelming foe, he can combine the two swords at their hilts, creating a single, much larger sword called Daybreak. This weapon combines the sharpness of his two blades with greater weight and attack power. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Powers and Abilities: Noted as the physically strongest member of the Watchers' team, Max has an enhanced, if not outright superhuman physiology. Every aspect of his physical form has been attuned to grant him extreme levels of performance. Master Swordsman: Through Nathan's training and years of practice, Max is an excellent swordfighter specializing in dual blades. He is ambidextrous and can use two short swords with great precision. Typically he uses one blade to attack and the other to defend. His fighting style is aggressive - meant to cleave and hew his opponents. When combined with his great strength, he can defeat most opponents with brute force. Though his skills are not quite up to par with his mentor, he has earned his praise and has even gone toe-to-toe with Gale in a sparring match. Master Combatant: Trained by all the other Watchers and by Richard Drake in the arts of hand-to-hand combat, Max is a master of unarmed fighting with a specialty in wrestling. His style is fast, hard-hitting and meant to take full advantage of his physical power. He typically relies on grabs, chokeholds and quick strikes to defeat most opponents. Against more durable adversaries, he relies on professional wrestling style moves. Though normally such movements require a consent or even some assistance, Max's strength and skill are great enough to where he can pull off such maneuvers effortlessly. His style involves use of suplexes, chokeslams, powerbombs, piledrivers, knee strikes, elbow strikes, spears, bodyslams, body splashes, clotheslines and even a hip toss. Holy Fire Manipulation: By drinking Uriel's blood, Max has gained power over what he calls "The Fire of Heaven" - white flames that burn anything "unholy" or demonic. Using either his hands or more often his swords, he can project jets of flame that burn so hot they turn sand into glass. Demons cannot cross lines of these fires or touch them or they will be destroyed. Like his swords, the magic inherent in the fires damage demons at the spiritual level as well as the physical one - meaning any hellspawn destroyed by such fires are unable to ever reform or return. Often, Max's preferred tactic is to create a circle of fire that binds demons - allowing him to interrogate or kill them (often both). Against human enemies of evil alignment, these flames will cause searing pain and eventual death. Against humans not of evil alignment, these flames have no effect. Max himself is also immune to the flames he generates - making him able to cross lines of holy fire unharmed. Enhanced Strength: From an early age, Max was noted to be exceptionally strong. From when he was old enough to walk, he displayed an aptitude for heavy lifting, often exceeding efforts even by very strong adult men. His strength only grew with age, to the point where he was noted as the most physically powerful member of the Order by the time he was a man - able to overpower three other humans in a rope pulling contest. When he partook in the blood of the Archangel Uriel, his strength was enhanced even further - making him powerful enough to deadlift the weight of one metric ton. Using his strength, he has broken and bent steel swords, punched a hole in solid concrete, lifted a man off the ground with one hand and more. Other feats include wrestling a 600 pound grizzly bear that was possessed by a hellhound on even terms, used a 400 pound barbell as a weapon and even supporting the weight of a 1,200 pound tree falling on top of him. Enhanced Speed: Though not quite as fast as Gale, Max's total running speed is calculated as exceeding 25 miles per hour. His reflexes and reaction time are likewise outstanding - bordering on perfect timing. This has enabled him to catch an arrow in mid-flight, catch the Fairy Knight by surprise, even managing to once outrun a professional sprinter. Enhanced Durability: Partly due to his enhanced strength, Max's muscles and bones are far more durable than normal, making him extremely difficult to injure. He has withstood explosions, been thrown the length of a city block (about 660 feet), had a small building collapse on him and been struck in the head with a mace, none of which caused him any permanent or lasting damage. Also, as part of a demonstration, Max allowed Arthur to strike him in the head with a baseball bat, (which broke on contact) and was barely fazed - only sent reeling from the force of the impact. The only thing that can truly bypass his durability are demonic based weapons and energies. Injuries inflicted by hell-forged steel will cause him additional damage, as seen when a hellhound slashed his chest, leaving a permanent set of scars. Enhanced Healing: Also due to his enhancements, Max's body heals at an accelerated rate. Any injury that is not immediately fatal will not kill him. Though he cannot regenerate lost limbs, his skin and bones will repair damage much more quickly than normal. Cuts, scratches and shallow scrapes will heal in minutes. Dislocations, fractures or even severed bones will mend in hours - enabling him to recover from almost life threatening injuries in mere days. That said, his healing is not infallible, especially against demonic weapons. As mentioned, he was unable to recover from being slashed by a demonic hound's claw - only able to regenerate after weeks of medication and rest. Even then, the wound left behind a permanent scar. Max's healing also affords him an extremely advanced immune system; making him all but impervious to disease and toxins. Much to his annoyance, this also includes alcohol - meaning he cannot get drunk. Decelerated Aging: Likely because of his healing and his healthy, balanced lifestyle and diet, Nathan speculates that Max's aging process has slowed to the point where he believes the Angel Knight will live 300 years or possibly longer. This means he will retain his strength and physicality, even into his twilight years. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Weaknesses: Though he is regarded as the most powerful of the Watchers, Max has a few glaring weaknesses. Physiology: Though he is strong and durable, Max's biology remains fundamentally human. He requires food, water and sleep to perform at peak function and will gradually weaken if deprived of them. Also, he is unable to regenerate limbs - and if a blow is immediately fatal (such as decapitation) he will die. Furthermore, his healing factor, though potent, is not infallible. No upper limit has yet been shown, but Nathan speculates that if he takes enough damage, there is a good chance he will be killed. Demonic Powers and Weapons: Though he has some resistance against mortal weapons and power, Max is vulnerable to demonic weapons and magics. Because his abilities are holy in nature, he will weaken if in the presence of unholy or demonic influence and is unable to exert his own power. This means anti-magic and anti-holy based weapons and spells are quite potent against him. Naivete: Though not unintelligent, Max is a bit gullible and open minded - his optimism and naturally trusting personality make it easy to manipulate him.
  10. A half second later, Dugall drew his own sword and brought it up in a sideways parry - just as Godsend struck in a vertical slash that would have split him in two. He pushed forward in a well executed low riposte. Nathan countered him, his blade lunging low then high, only to have his foe parry them both - his sword a blur in his hands. Back and forth the two humans fought - their swords and feet a flurry of movement - each too fast for the naked eye to follow. Like so many times before, their skills were absolutely equal; their blades ringing and repelling each other. Their eyes and attacks were focused solely on each other - neither paying the slightest attention to the dragon in their midst, and how could they? They were mortal enemies - this clash was one they had repeated times beyond count - each unable to best the other, but were determined this would be the one instance where he triumphed over his hated rival. Just as the sun began to set, just out of sight, their blades clanged against each other, once, twice, three times - then locked. Sweat dewed their faces; sparks flying from their swords as the stalemate continued. Arms quivered with effort as each pushed and tried to overpower his foe, in vain. Beneath their feet, the ground began to splinter and break from the force they were exerting. "Your skills are as sharp as ever, Jameson." Dugall admitted between breaths. "I daresay they are on par with my own. It will be by a razor thin margin, but you will lose." He leaned forward, then whispered. "And then I'm going to kill your scaly friend. I've always wanted to slay a dragon." "You wish." Nathan replied, gritting his teeth. "You can't win, Dugall. Even if you strike me down, the dragon is impervious to your weapon." "Are you so certain?" The assassin pushed a little harder, catching his foe with the edge of his sword. To the Paladin's surprise, the blade simply bypassed the armor - cutting into the flesh beneath. "The Ghostblade - Frostbite. All armor is useless before it, even yours. Even your friend's scales are no match...-" He was interrupted by Nathan rearing his head back and slamming it against his foe's in a brutal headbutt. Dugall jerked back in rage and pain. Seeing his chance, Nathan reared his blade back and struck hard in a left-to-right slash against Dugall's breastplate, just above the right pectoral. The attack did little damage to the steel, as expected, but it did dent it - probably bruising him. Dugall leaped away before any more damage could be done, rearing back into a defensive stance - a scowl on his face. "You're going to pay for that, Jameson." He snarled. "You're going to regret not making it a lethal hit." "I could have killed you right there, Dugall. I could have just gone for your head - and that would be the end of the 'world's greatest assassin.'" Nathan taunted. "Now why don't you leave before I do?" "Never." Dugall roared, then charged again. "It's all over for you, Nathan. You and the dragon."
  11. Lke before with Lord Gerold, Gods rest his soul, Nathan thought, the Watchers stood at attention and waited behind their leader. With one smooth motion, he sheathed his sword and fixed his posture. "I am Sir Nathaniel Jameson, leader of the Watchers team. With the unfortunate death of Lord Gerold, it falls upon me to act as commander of the defenders here." Nathan was using his "diplomatic, noncommittal tone for this conversation. His face was a mask; his expression unreadable. While it need not be said he wasn't ungrateful for the Order's assistance, experience had taught him to keep his emotions in check. Nevertheless, there was the ghost of a smile on his lips as he watched the soldiers march in perfect formation. A part of him admired their discipline and training. "By the authority vested in me by the good people of Landonia, I extend my greetings and give my heartfelt gratitude for your aid."
  12. The sight of the airship loosing its firepower and blowing hundreds of cadavers to smithereens lifted the spirits of the defenders, providing the Watchers leader in particular with a huge morale boost. With that, he began to redouble his efforts to rally the Landonian troops. What few corpses remained on the ground were steadily mowed down by his blade or by the footmen, or were crushed by war machines firing off one last salvo. A further ten minutes of hard fighting and the last of the main force was all but obliterated. Everywhere Nathan looked, there were corpses; truly dead corpses littering the ground, ten thick in some places. Further, beyond the bridge, whatever remained of the enemy host was scattered and fleeing. A Company of cavalry rushed after them, putting any who lagged to the sword. He would let the living enemy troops have a reprieve, once they had passed beyond range of the archers and machines. They would bring word of this defeat to Lillith. Furthermore, he saw no need to turn this into a massacre. For now, he contented himself with watching his men and their allies gather up the fallen to be placed in pyres for burning. It had been a hard fought victory, but it was worth it. All of the Watchers had acquitted themselves well on the battlefield. And of course, the Landonians showed that the living could win against impossible odds. A city had been saved. Best of all, it showed there was still a chance for survival, if not victory. Therein came a new set of problems. The city was safe, but others across the continent were being overrun. The Watchers could not be everywhere at once, even with their ship. The idea came just like that, along with a sudden desire to thank their new friends. Just as Max began to set fire to the first pile, Nathan leaped up onto the nearest building. With a grin, he waved up at the airship above the city.
  13. What, or rather who emerged from the foliage not far from where Nathan was standing was the last person on Valucre that he ever intended to see again. Stepping onto the beach was a tall man with long, black hair and yellow eyes. An ornate sword hung at his belt, thrumming with power. A wicked grin was on his face; cruelty and glee in equal measure in his eyes. "Been a long time, Jameson." He said after what seemed an eternity, though truthfully it was only a few minutes. "Not long enough, Dugall." Nathan snarled. The glow in his eyes intensified, and he all but spat the name out. Dugall's eyes scanned the dragon appraisingly, and to Nathan's disgust, his grin widened. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your dragon friend? Aren't we old acquaintances, after all?" Dugall's tone wasn't its usual style. It was obvious mockery. What Nathan had come to expect was genuine, if blunt respect from the assassin. When an opponent gained Dugall's admiration, he could be something approaching civil. Never friendly, but civil. This feigned politeness was an affectation. A prelude to the fight to come. Any time the mercenary sought out Nathan, it always ended in violence. Nathan's skill and abilities had let him narrowly best his rival time and again, but now, something had changed in him. "You are not my friend, Dugall. You claim you never needed any." Nathan's voice was level, but it was laced with venom. "But still, you always were more courteous. Why now do you show such insolence? Can't you see we're in the middle of a conversation?" He gestured to Mladris. "If you truly desire me to beat you senseless, kindly wait until we're finished!" He turned back to his scaled ally. "I apologize, Dragon. He is no friend of mine, you see. He is a minor annoyance." Dugall's smile disappeared. In its place, there came a fierce scowl. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it. "I did not come to bandy words with you, Jameson. Nor did I come to wait while you discussed the weather with this... lizard." He spat the last word with contempt. "I came to settle our score, once and for all!" Nathan raised his hand, partly in reply to the challenge and partly for his draconic ally. "Please excuse me, dragon. This will take only a minute." At that moment, there came a flash of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder. A massive bolt of electricity shot down from the clouds, enveloping the Paladin in brilliant light. A moment later and he emerged, unharmed, now armored in gold and silver plated steel, a sword clutched in his right hand; electrical energy arcing and dancing across the blade. Nathan tilted his head, cracked his neck, then charged.
  14. Defenders, Landonia. In one of the lulls between the fighting, Nathan took stock of the situation. The Watchers were making headway against their enemies on all fronts. Max and Gale were ripping through the hordes, dozens falling in minutes. Arthur and Elias fought fiercely against the necromancers commanding them. Aided by the two castle's troops, they began to set up defensive lines on each island and steadily increased their efforts. Every projectile available was pressed into service and began to tear through the cadavers. A half an hour of constant shooting and ripping and tearing and the flood of undead began to thin. Little by little, the team and their allies were culling the dead's numbers as more corpses went down and stayed down. Nathan's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something in the distance. At that moment his jaw dropped in surprise and delight. Airships! Airships arriving, carrying living troops. With a whoop of joy, he heralded the newcomers. Relief had come at last.
  15. It was only a minute or so before Nathan abandoned his efforts. Fighting for a grudge would accomplish nothing, he realized as he collected himself. His anger faded away as he looked upon the Landonian footmen battling around him. “There’s no time for games anymore.” He muttered. To his opponent, he gave a silent, murderous look before he leaped away. He landed a fair distance away, atop a piece of collapsed masonry overlooking much of the battlefield. “Landonians!” He shouted. “Prepare to fire every missile and war machine, on my signal, unleash everything!” As before, the troops obeyed; loading every ballista and trebuchet all along the walls. In preparation, the archers drew their bows and waited. With that, Nathan raised his sword once more, beckoning the entirety of the storm’s lightning into it. As before, a bolt of electricity descended into the blade and empowered it with blinding illumination. Energy crackled and popped around the edge before he released it in a slash: A beam of energy, no less powerful than the previous one, but far more concentrated in its intensity. Dozens more creatures were electrocuted by the blast. Their bodies disintegrated the moment they were hit; only the blast didn’t stop there. It trailed off in every direction, each arc gaining strength and size as it passed between targets. By the time it dissipated, fifty or more had fallen. They were quickly followed into oblivion as Nathan raised his arm and the defenders opened fire with every projectile they had. Ballista, a rain of arrows, catapult fire, even some of the people hurled rocks and pieces of furniture at the enemy. Whatever could be used as a weapon was pressed into repelling the hordes. ————————————————— As per their orders, Max and Gale were on the opposite side of the city, assisting the defenders in their own way: While their allies were evacuating the citizens, both were directing their full power into the enemy. Max let loose holy fire whilst bellowing prayers of righteous wrath. Beside him, Gale let loose torrents of icy water that froze any foe it touched. “Blessed be the Gods that teach my hands to war and my fingers to fight.” Max quoted as his swords rent the head off an attacking ghoul. The body burned away from the heat they gave off. “My fortress and my deliverance.” A second strike, and a blast of fire incinerated a distant necromancer. “My shield, in whom I trust. Who are they, mere mortals who are like a breath of air. Like a fleeting shadow. Part the Heavens and scatter the enemy with your arrows. Reach down from the Heavens and rescue me from the power of my enemy, who’s mouth is full of lies and whose hands are full of deceit.” With each word, the heat and glow surrounding him intensified. Soon, any foe caught in it burst into flames and burned to ashes.
  16. I have a big post ahead. I’ve decided a little change of strategy is necessary. (Grin of audacity)
  17. Still waiting for Die. If he don’t show, I’ll have to make a post detailing the Watchers completely obliterating his army. Then I think I’ll blow up his house and shoot his dog. (Black comedy) But seriously, I got a whole lot of ideas in mind for a future post.
  18. Guys? It’s been almost a week. I understand if you’re busy. I would like some kind of reply or something.
  19. ((Fight music. Nathan vs. Khaedal)) ~Defenders. Landonia~ Nathan's reaction to his foe deflecting his blast had confirmed his suspicion about this so-called Paragon. He wielded great power over lightning, not unlike the Paladin himself. Further, the fact that his attack was repulsed by an equally strong barrier meant their abilities were likely evenly matched. The short duel he had fought with Gerold showed his sword skills - and likely, from his blade, his style was directed towards speed and dominating the opponent through superior mobility. Likely, his blade was enchanted to counter the innate weakness in curved swords; it would not snap or be nicked in a direct clash with a heavy long sword like Godsend. That Nathan was taller, bulkier and heavier meant he probably had the strength advantage. "He is mine." The Paladin murmured. His voice was flat, as if he were in a trance - but his eyes glowed with that telltale blue light that showed he was no longer holding back. His foe would feel his full power in every bite of his blade. "Arthur, Elias take the east. Secure Highmoat. Gale, Max, take the west. Secure Coldstone. Support the Landonian forces to the best of your ability. Whatever happens, do not let either castle fall." To the still-living, still fighting Landonian men on the front line he roared. "All of you with me! Form lines; pikes and spears in front, archers behind! Unleash hell!" As they had seen him in action, the troops saw no reason to disagree with that command. Their leader gone, the Landonians would instead look to the Watchers for guidance. Foreigners or not, they were brave enough to fight beside them and powerful enough to make a massive difference. Troop by troop, company by company, they finished off their immediate attackers wherever they could and stood in line formation: Shields locked shoulder-to-shoulder in the front while spears were raised in between gaps. Archers and crossbowmen loaded and nocked arrows behind them, awaiting the order to fire. "Nock, draw, LOOSE!" Nathan bellowed. "Fire at will!" At that command, they unleashed everything they had - arrows fell like rain over the horde or zipped past - straight into the cultist's ranks. Every shot downed a foe or riddled them with shafts. Before long, a whole wave had fallen to the missiles. Whenever a cluster of them got too close for ranged weapons, spears stabbed wildly - ripping creatures to shreds or impaling them. With that, Nathan turned his attention back to his foe. Gripping Godsend's hilt with both hands, he rushed forward - his powerful legs allowing him to close the distance in seconds. In an instant, true combat was joined as each fought like men possessed; body-to-body and soul-to-soul. Nathan's first attack was a downward slash from a high guard - his foe bringing his own blade up in a sideways parry. Steel sang as their blades impacted each other. Both magically enhanced to be sharper and more durable than any normal metal. Nathan let the blade slide straight down the curved edge before he brought it back in, two handed in a left-to-right slash. The Paragon backed away, just as the tip soared past his ribcage; narrowly avoiding a hit that would have cleaved him in two. Quick indeed, Nathan thought as their deadly dance went about in a similar exchange a second time - the Paladin aiming a downward slash, only to have it slide off the upraised katana. His second attack he aimed in a stab, bringing his weapon back for just a second before he launched himself forward off his back foot - a thrust aimed directly at his foe's heart. Again, the Paragon proved too quick; sidestepping before he brought his weapon around in a curved arc that would have taken Nathan's head from his shoulders. Just before connection, the Paladin raised his left hand and let the blade impact against his bracer. Steel bit into the gauntlet about his fist but did not pierce it. Before his opponent could withdraw again, Nathan raised his right leg and delivered a swift standing side kick to his ribcage. It was a good hit; enough to stagger the Paragon, but not enough to do serious damage. Immediately he drew back into a fighting stance; sword held in both hands. Nathan matched it - his own stance with his sword held mid-level. To any watching the fight, it would appear they were evenly matched. To the two locked in combat, it became obvious they were feeling each other out. This was nothing more than a warmup to gauge the other's abilities. Now that the warmup was over, it was time for the real battle to begin in earnest. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Arthur~ As per Nathan's orders, the Morn twins dashed through the city as fast as their legs could carry them - across bridges, past ramparts and even at one point leaped over rooftops - heading east, always east. Neither wasted any energy or time on words - they both understood the gravity of this situation. Still, Elias being the showboat he was saw fit to accent each leap with a midair flip or stick his landing with a handstand. Arthur in contrast simply barreled his way through any obstacle in his path or vaulted right over it. Before long they reached their destination: Pilgrim's Tower. It was the closest spot to the island they were ordered to defend - and they would hold it. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Elias said as they ascended the stairs - heading to the tower's roof. As they exited through the door and back outside, he knew what was coming. "Time for a Fox-Toss." That was the code word for a maneuver the Watchers had developed in their training. With a nod, Arthur backed away several steps - allowed his brother to raise his spear, then took off in a run as fast as he could. Just before he reached him, Arthur leaped - using his twin's spear-shaft like a makeshift platform. Elias' strength carried him onward and upward - pushing him high enough and far enough to close the distance between the two islands. Arthur landed solidly on his feet - just outside the castle, just as it came under attack by a renewed horde of creatures. Elias followed him - using his spear like a pole-vault and landed beside him with a flourish. "We're here. Now what?" Elias asked a moment before he dispatched the first cultist that attacked with a side-swipe. Unlike his usual play, he opted for a simple decapitation. The hooded man's head rolled along the ground, just coming to a stop before his twin's feet. "Now we form a perimeter before the castle and hold this line!" Arthur declared, raising his spear. The knightly troops had already begun to engage the enemy - word spreading quickly that the Watchers were fighting beside them. Sword, spear, axe and warhammers were drawn and the first of the horde began to fall before a furious counterattack.
  20. There. I just hit the guy with the biggest lightning blast in the history of lightning. Meant for it to be bigger, but I figured that should convey it succinctly. Nathan is pissed. He's officially had it with this undead shit - and he's not going to take it any more.
  21. ((Music. Beware, VERY loud!)) ~Defenders - Landonia~ There were very few times that Nathan ever lost his temper or ever showed emotion openly. To his comrades and those who knew him well enough, he kept a tight lid on his emotions until it was safe and appropriate to release it. However, those who knew him best also knew that there were limits to his patience - and his sense of mercy. Paladin or not, Nathan was not a man to be trifled with - especially in regards to those he called friends and allies. When he saw the so-called "Paragon" behead Gerold, something in him... snapped. For the briefest of moments, there was a flash in his eyes, along with a grimace. For a split-second, it seemed his face might contort and turn ugly with hatred. Then what followed was an expression that caused even Arthur's fierce heart to skip a beat. There was cold fury in every line on Nathan's face. Controlled, measured anger that comes only from those who mastered themselves and were in complete control. What followed was Nathan raising his sword, Godsend, high in the air - the blade rippling with electricity. Thunder clapped above them - a storm of catastrophic proportions raged in the clouds - giving all present a hint as to how enraged the Watchers' leader was under the surface. "Stand aside." Nathan said in a voice so calm, so level that it made everyone who heard it quiver. "I will handle this myself." With that, he lowered his blade, unleashing a lightning blast that put all his previous attacks to shame - in size, and intensity - so bright and fierce in its glow that all present had to shut their eyes against it. Aimed directly at the Paragon, it shot forth across the battlefield - instantly obliterating any undead creatures caught in its path. No trace was left to mark their passing - not even a scream as it bolted through them.
  22. This next post is a doozy. I think, the right men in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world, Mr. Die. I think you should look forward to... unforeseen consequences.
  23. ~Defenders - Landonia~ Nathan grinned savagely as he watched the cultists strewn about the battlefield like so many feathers caught in a storm. Already, dozens had fallen by the Watchers' blades, yet more would quickly fall before this day was over. He watched as Max and Gale went about their friendly banter and their little contest. He would let them have their fun while he gauged the size and strength of the horde. Once he had that information - and once the initial assault was beaten off, he could formulate a better strategy than mere survival. Unlike his brothers in arms, Nathan intended to completely destroy the attacking army - and the others all across this continent. Before he could do any of that, however, he needed a sitrep with the two most skilled intelligence gatherers of the team. Nathan turned his head, leaning wearily on his sword - just in time to have a corpse attempt to claw out his eyes with rotting fingers. A moment before it could try, before the paladin himself could react, the cadaver's head exploded in a shower of gore - with blood and gray matter splattering over Nathan's boots. He turned again, watching with even greater satisfaction as the Morn brothers directed their psychic powers into any foe out of range of their spears. In each other's presence, their powers were amplified; focused, channeled to a degree where they could cause any number of effects. One of them Nathan found most useful was the psychic link they could establish between the group's members. Once linked, it made it easier and more efficient to communicate between them. Was there a plan here? Arthur's voice in thought form floated into his mind, clear and easily heard over the din of battle. Or are we to keep fighting an endless wave of creatures? Once we break through their lines, we rally the guard into a proper fighting force. Nathan thought back. Then we break the enemy with war machines. That should give us the upper hand. We'll plan our next move then. ___________________________________________________________ Arthur paused the mental conversation for a moment while he drove his spear, two-handed, through the open mouth of an attacking ghoul - the tip jutted right out through its throat. With a jerk and a snarl, he wrenched it straight up - tearing through the rotted flesh and into the creature's brain. When it stopped twitching, he hurled the corpse into a nearby mob, scattering them. His brother vaulted over them, performing a midair sommersault as he did so, then landed on his feet in between them and the controlling necromancers. Three of them, directed their spells at him. It was almost like he was performing in a dance, Arthur mused, as his comrade ducked, wove and flipped his way around each attack. Elias, being the most agile and nimble member of the group had little difficulty alternating between attacking and defensive movement. When he reached the sorcerers, he finished them all with one stab of his spear each - straight to the throats. The dead they controlled fell like puppets with their strings severed - and did not rise again. Elias! On your nine! Arthur warned as he watched three more of them rushed at him. His brother grinned in response. With a quick turn of his head, he made an exaggerated bow. "As you can see, I have nothing up my sleeve! For my next trick, I'll need some volunteers from the crowd!" He reached into his jerkin instead - pulled three backup knives, then sent them flying with unerring accuracy - one after another. Each blade embedded itself into an attacker's throat - causing all three to fall in a choking heap. "Ta-da!" Some might question why the Watchers kept Elias on the team, given his tendency to showboat and grandstand, but Arthur understood it was simply his brother's way - and further, it was a mask. His cheerful exterior was an affectation to make his opponents think him reckless and foolish. In truth, Elias had the potential to surpass any of them as a fighter - both in skill and in versatility. He alone didn't have a single weapon of choice. He had many skills. Now it was time to put all those skills to the test. More of the horde was closing in on the brothers - probably seeing them as a greater threat than the Landonian footmen. Unlike his younger twin, Arthur specialized in only two fields: Hand-to-hand combat and spearmanship. In battle, he was the tactician to Nathan's strategist - and he was also the most ruthless and pragmatic of the team. In order to win, he would do anything at all. Still, there was indeed a time and a place for showing off. Time to demonstrate his own skills. With a sharp exhale, Arthur sheathed his spear - drew himself into a boxing stance and waited. A cultist wearing black, hooded robes armed with a knife attacked him first - aiming a downward stab. Moving like greased lightning, Arthur grabbed the underside of his opponent's arm from below, turned it up, then delivered his opposite elbow to strike at the cultist's chest, just beside the heart. He finished the combo by lifting his left leg and stomping hard on the cultist's knee, kicking it out.* His opponent fell, hard to the ground, clutching his chest in pain - his breathing coming in short, desperate gasps. "Wha-what did you... do to me?" He wheezed. "I collapsed your lung. Good luck casting spells without breathing properly." Arthur cracked his neck, watching with satisfaction as the other cultists formed up on him. Also unlike his brother, Arthur never killed living opponents. Crippling and maiming them, sure, but never kill. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ *Six-grand opening, elbow up-thrust.
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