Jump to content

Recommended Posts

CaUmllt.pngThe woman stood before the entire group, looking at them with eyes hidden behind manipulated shadows. For the minute she will feign innocence towards the familiar faces, with her hands on her hips and nose thrust into the dank air. While some were familiar on a very common basis, this will be the first time she has ever done anything of this caliber with them. Often operating under the shadows of conspiracy and backhanded remarks, a group of individuals such as this has never been her cup of tea. Thankfully they are all working together - or so she hopes.

The two she does not know were given a brief examination. They came to her with one of her flyers in their hands and their hearts curious for the promise of riches and glory. She is not a liar, they will receive what she had promised them and if she can, more. These sorts of expeditions often harbor greater things than what's rumored, so if there is anything else beyond the ships and specific treasures they've promised to capture her, it will become theirs. 

The rest of the group know precisely why they are here, so she doesn't have to put too much thought into their success. A bit of nervousness does touch her sensitive heart. The familiars are people that have gathered under the same banner, hoping that some good will come from their services and that they'll find a place in the histories of the great Genesaris. Romantic ideals that are seen through her rose-colored glasses, but reputable ideals nonetheless. Today will be difficult. She doesn't want to lose any of them, especially the familiars who are playing ignorance to who she is. 

"You know why we are here," she spoke softly from behind her shadows, "so I won't waste our time explaining."

She turned around to face the crumbling edges of a city that is still great and amazing in its deterioration. 

"There are four ships that we need to get out of the city intact."

Hidden eyes examine the area spread at her feet. Two dragons protect this city, two creatures she's only seen once in her entire life. She is ignorant of their strengths and weaknesses, and the only way to learn about them is to get up and personal with them. This is where her dependency on the group comes in. With the combination of their skills, they will take care of the dragons. Afterward, they will reap the rewards.

"I want the dragons taken care of as soon as possible. I don't want to risk having the ships shot out of the sky or destroyed before we even get to charge them up."

Whispernight has destroyed various cities and tainted them with its dark touch. Undead march through each city, and as we all know, the undead have no minds of their own, making them dangerous.

"One group can go after the dragons; the rest can go after the ships. When the dragons are taken care of, everyone will meet up and help."

Splitting up is smart ... and terrifying. She will be with the group that takes care of the dragons; her skill at taming wild beasts will come in handy. If she can do it, she will make the dragons part of her growing collection of ancient monsters. If not, then the loss of the creatures will have to be the price they pay. For the ships, she knows that some of them have experience in that field, and others are quick enough to do what they have to to make things work. Time is of the essence here, especially if any of them fail anywhere. They can't possibly have a redo if they all die.

"Questions? Thoughts?"

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Already so much fighting had commenced, so many monsters had been destroyed, yet still there were more. Endless streams of monstrosities that wished for nothing but the death of all that was around us, there could not possibly be a way for it to end. Truly this ocean of terror was some sign that the end times were at hand, that our efforts were all in vain and that death was only steps behind them, waiting to strike its terrible blow. Perhaps, but if that was to be true, then I will make sure that I bring down as many as possible before my soul is wrenched from this plane to a new hell of my own design. This I swear, by my name, Orion.

"I will go into the city and engage with the undead hordes. With my skills, I believe I can attract a majority of the undead to me. At that point, whoever is going after the ships should make haste and acquire them." This was my choice, it would be my way of striking back against these wretched cretins of the night. Already my journey to cleansing Genesaris of these nightmares was taking so long, causing me so much pain. Progress was slow, and each terror I encountered gnawed through more and more of my sanity, threatening to plunge me into the depths of madness itself.

Was I not already insane though? Coming here to this place, taking up this quest, summoning the spirit of Feuer Krieger to the world. Was that not already considered madness through the sheer absurdity of the action? No, its better not to think about it. Just keep struggling, keep fighting, and maybe one day, I will die in these massive graveyard cities, forgotten and finally allowed to rest.

"If you wish to rescue me then do so when the time is right, I cannot guarantee I will be able to stay with the group at all times. To control this spirit, this curse that dwells within me, requires much concentration. Trust me when I warn you that you do not wish for him to have his attention upon you. Only death and the damned follow him..." I have witnessed so much of the destruction this monster was capable of, it almost seemed like a nightmare, until I realize I have been awake for it all. When he begins his rampage, I am but a helpless spectator, forced to watch as he laid waste to the abominations of Whispernight, but horrified in knowing that one mistake could cause him to slaughter the innocent as well as the monsters. Fate has selected me to be the keeper of this barbaric spirit of slaughter, and so I will do everything I can to keep him chained to my will, even if it kills me. To be honest, death is the only way I could withstand knowing the weapon in my grand crusade was now being used for evil purposes.

Damn this city, damn this continent, damn this whole planet. This was not supposed to be my lot in life, my ultimate destiny in the grand design of the universe. My life was supposed to be one of simplicity, of travel and learning and discovering the beautiful secrets of the world. Instead it is this, this wretched existence of clinging onto the brown robes of a monk, my left hand eternally charred with the hatred of a monster I foolishly brought forth onto Valucre. Perhaps this is why I am so willing to rush headlong into the jaws of death and despair. Life as I knew it was over as soon as Whispernight came forth from the depths of some inconceivable hell, and this is just some mad attempt at suicide.

Then so be it.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

AWhqGN3.jpg   Reese Tenement

The atmosphere among them all seem the melodramatic sort. He wasn't underestimating what was going to happen in this city of old however he didn't like feeling as tho none of them were gonna come back alive. It wasn't exactly a new feeling for Reese but it just gave him too much a reminder of his childhood. He stood somewhat away from the other but still in the frontal view of the woman explaining the situation to them. He stood loosely and without any tension in him; His large powder rifle wrapped in a burlap cloth and held over his shoulder as if he were some musket warfighter of old.

She spoke of ships, dragons, and the undead. Only two of which he had any prior experience with. In his travels from continent to continent he had ridden on many ships both air and water born. The undead were a less than enjoyable bit of information to hear about; They kind of gave him the creeps. However undead or not you could make them... well dead again. Reese had never seen a dragon let alone tackled the challenge of taking one down. It made him a bit excited just thinking abou it but he didn't let it show on his face on in his physical maneurisms. 

Reese lowered his cloth wrapped rifle and set the butt of it on the stone below his feet and let the barrel rest against his side. When the woman had finished talking he was well and ready for their mission.  "Questions? Thoughts?"  She asked them so nonchalantly; Reese liked the attitude toward the mission thus far. She was serious and intense with her demeanor but not overbearing and morbid. It was refreshing for some reason; Which is why he had made up his mind. He had no knowledge of airships in the least; Not the mechanisms within them nor the science or magic that lifted them from their earthbound tether. 

Reese raised his hand to get the womans attention for a moment. Wether she knew he was mute or not was of no consequence since she would surely know now. He used his right hand and pointed a thumb at himself; He then put his hands together and flapped them as if they were wiings. He was trying to of course tell her that he was interested in being on the team that tackled the task of the winged beasts. 

He wasn't sure how she wanted to do things; However he wanted to make sure he would be included in the part that interested him most. 

'Once a slave; Now a dragon hunter, Who woulda guessed' Reese thought to himself with a smile. And giving a charismatic wink with his blind left eye to show his eagerness. He may have been mute and half blind; However that smile and one good eye spoke a tale from his soul that no voice ever could.

Edited by Grizzly

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Kuratel looked pretty much like what one would expect a city besieged by the undead to look like; its streets teaming with shambling corpses all moving without any clear sense of purpose. No doubt that would change the moment that the group attracted their attention, at which point they would surge like a festering tide toward the intruders; primal instincts crying out for flesh. Virgil had heard tales of the devastation wrought by the Whispernight, though he had never actually seen it for himself before today. Until today he had never had any reason to do so; as by the time he'd heard about it, it was too late to help evacuees, and there was nothing there that seemed worth the danger to retrieve. But that had been before he had found his new purpose; to bring desperately needed change to his birthplace of Aelindra city. To do so required him and his fellow conspirators to win positions on the cities council; and to do that, they would need to prove they belonged there. This would be the first step toward achieving that aim. 

This particular outing had been billed to him as optional; but he had decided to come along for two reasons. First was the fact that all of his old friends from the Golden Hawks would be attending; and he relished the opportunity to raise hell with his buddies once again. The second reason had come when he'd heard that the goal of the mission was to recover a number of airships from the ravaged city. The Captain had been around airships practically since birth; as his family had made their fortune building and selling them, along with mana blades of course. He had been one of the best pilots in the service, and been given command of his own ship; The Hawks Shadow. When the military had decided to decommission her, he had bought the ship, and resigned his post rather than being assigned another vessel. Even though the Hawk was his favorite; airships were still a passion for him; and he figured he could use his expertise here. 

When their erstwhile employer began to brief them, Virgil kept his expression neutral; not wanting to let the two strangers know of his groups association with her. There was no reason to hide his affiliation with his friends however, and he had warmly greeted all of them as they had arrived. The woman had kept things brief; laying out their goals and establishing a plan of action. One group would fight the dragons while a second would retrieve the ships. The division of labor thus established; he knew which group he would be joining.

"Well I been flying and fixing airships since I was a boy. So I guess I'll be going with the airship team."

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Cazarosta stood amongst the group who had been brought together by the lovely woman whose eyes were shrouded by shadow. He knew her, as well as a few others within the group, yet he maintained the air of a man who had just met them for the first time. It was better this way, it would allow them to operate freely and with a certain amount of flexibility. It would also provide an advantage should those of unknown origin think to double cross the generous quest giver. In doing so they would find themselves storing down the barrels of Caster Guns, or dead before they could move. All in all it was an impressive plan, thought up by the ever impressive woman before them.

The noble bastard was a handsome man, his features sharp and defined. He was dark of hair, so much so that the ebon strands had a bluish tint in the light. His hair was swept back in a relaxed style, showing a high forehead, his eyes were a pale yellow like that of a bird of prey. They held the noble and predatory gaze of the eagle, the king of the skies. He was a tall man, lean and broad of shoulder. He exuded a physical prowess that created an air of dependability, and to the opposite sex; one of desirability. His lips were curved in an easy smile, though it was not a wide one that revealed his teeth.

He was dressed in the uniform of the Golden Hawk First of Foot. A black battle dress uniform that hugged his lean frame snugly, cuffed in the deep crimson red. It allowed him to cut an imposing figure, bringing thoughts to the minds of those around them at just how fearsome a full division would look. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the muscled forearms of a man trained to handle the powerful kick of a rifle. His hands were covered by black gloves, runic formulae in red danced over the backs of his hands that reached from the tips of his fingers to the middle of his hands. They amplified the already considerable dexterity of his slender and long fingered hands, allowing him to reload far more expertly than even an elite marksman.

His trousers were tucked into the fine and sturdy high leather boots, polished to a shine. Reaching from his ankles and up to his knees were a pair of greaves, forged of Salerian steel and they too were inscribed with runic formulae. They increased his celerity, agility, and balance; necessary things for one who was a marksman. It would allow him to move quickly from one position to the next, absolutely necessary for a soldier specialized for sniping key targets. After a shot he would have to move quickly, keeping the enemy from pinning him down in one spot. In a melee it allowed him to resist being knocked off balance from an enemy charge, and to also enhance his own charge with the time for bayonets came.

These features were distinguishing true, but not as much as the magnificent weapon the man carried.

The Caster Rifle, a new addition to the military of the Rising West, with greater range, accuracy, and power than the conventional Caster Gun; it was a weapon of truly great capabilities. The long barrel was an alloy of mana infused Salerian Steel and Mokume-gane, enhancing the power of the Caster Shells. The barrel glowed both inside and out with a highly complex spiral of runic fomulae. They danced and shifted along the barrel, a truly beautiful work of rune magic that he had developed over the years. Those on the outside of the barrel strengthened the metal, making it far more durable and less prone to wear and tear. Those within acted as a form of rifling that enhanced the speed and force of the rounds. It amplified it to such a degree that no creature would want to be hit at any range. To those who knew him, it was a testament to the true genius of the man.

“I’ll volunteer to take care of the dragons. Caterina,” He said as he rocked the rifle that was held over his right shoulder, his hand gripping the stock; in a gesture to indicate that it was the name of his weapon. “is better suited for that sort of thing.”  He flashed a handsome smile, revealing perfect white teeth. “I’ll need a spotter though, and some brave lads to keep me covered.” He said. Though he was confident in his abilities, he wanted to make sure that this went off as smoothly as possible. His job was not the most important, but it was, without a doubt; the most dangerous. 

Edited by Alexei

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Kuratel the once beautiful airship titan of the North, even lying in ruins it still held the air of unearned arrogance that pervaded the Northern lands and its people. Alfonso d’al Sancroix stood with the brave souls whom accepted the daunting task of relinquishing this once fair city of its airships. He stood amongst soldiers, adventurers, and hunters. All of them skilled in their own right. He like his friends held the air of a stranger. Elilah had made a wise decision when formulating her stratagem. He, like Cazarosta, were of the same mind. Caution was the best policy. Especially so when this city was involved.

The second-string noble was indeed a handsome man, he bore the features of an Aelindrian noble well. Flaxen-blond hair cut short per cavalry regulations, which unsurprisingly accentuated piercing and lively amber eyes. He was like the regal hawk, broad shoulders squared, posture ramrod straight like all military men. His countenance held the exemplary air of the well trained soldier used to the position of command.

Implacable determination, inhumanly charismatic. He wasn't just groomed for command. He was born for it.

He was dressed appropriately for this endeavor. Wearing bits and pieces of the vaunted armour of the Golden Hawks legendary Talons. Knowing full well the necessity of quick and quiet movement he wore only what he thought necessary. His chest bore the protection of Salerian steel breastplate, its surface unpolished for this mission. Only his sword arm was Salerian-shod, as was expected for half-plate armour. His gun hand was free of such protection, only shod in the dark blue fabric of his military dress, trimmed with gold. The only protection afforded to his left hand was a well made leather glove. Both legs were protected by greaves, each one strapped to his specialized cavalry boots, of which his pants were smartly tucked into.

Runes were inscribed in each piece of armour, increasing his strength, stamina, as well as reflexes. As well as the added boon to his armours durability.

Alfonso was armed, hanging from his sword belt was his mana blade, the noble weapon hung easily over his left hip. Holstered on his left thigh was an elegant weapon. The latest model of the caster gun was within easy reach, it was a beautiful weapon designed by ag good friend. Much like Cazarosta’s caster rifle, it bore the expertly patterned runes. Although it was a caster gun it bore a markedly different shape and capabilities. Above the grip it bore a capacitor, with in the crystal cartridge it held a small exalta shard. Along with the caster shells tje newly added capacitor increased the power and range beyond the that of the older models.

Having tested it himself, he knew very well it nearly rivaled the caster rifle, if not in range certainly is ability to cause massive damage could not be denied.

“I will head for the airships,” his choice was not due to fear or cowardice. He has already decided to ensure the proper acquisition of Heaven’s Mercy. “I have some experience in piloting airships, I am also better equipped for urban combat.”

As much as he wished to face off against the dragons, he was not the marksman like Cazarosta. He knew where his skills would be better served. Whatever foul creatures roamed the city he would be more than their match.

Edited by Garion

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


Elson played his part in maintaining the unspoken illusion well, and his demeanor while Elilah spoke held no trace of familiarity with her, or indeed with the others he knew. All of them, that is, except for Sergeant Campos, who he had insisted on bringing along for, if nothing else, his skill as a marksman, at a caliber comparable to that of Cazarosta, at the least. He would make no secret of their association, although he dabbled in secret with the other hand. But sometimes, duplicity was a requirement, and Elson knew that full well. His gray eyes scanned over the assembled group for a moment, and he nodded ever so slightly. He didn't know what to make of the two strangers quite yet, of course, but all in all, he doubted he could ask for a better group to be undertaking this mission with. Anything daring to stand in their way, dragon or undead alike, would likely not live long to regret it. Well... "live" in the relative sense, at least in the latter regard. If anything, that was one of the most annoying aspects of undead, having to clarify such terms whenever one spoke of them. The nerve.

As the others volunteered to go after either the airships or the dragons, he kept count of them in his head, waiting to decide until he knew the numbers for each. One for airships, though as a distraction and not going directly after them. One for... no words, but if his hand motions were any indication, one for dragons. Another for airships, though Elson could have predicted that one. Then, another for dragons. Not too much surprise there, again. Finally, there was another for airships. A fraction of time for calculation: 3 for airships, 2 for dragons. Counting Elilah, both groups were evenly distributed. He turned toward Campos, hand resting on his chin. Hunter had yet to make a decision, he could see, but with an odd number, the groups would end up unbalanced in any case. Not that that particularly mattered, of course, unless was one was perhaps a bit too obsessed or superstitious about such things. Elson, after a short time dedicated to pondering, strode forward two steps, his gaze turning toward Cazarosta as he gestured Campos forward.

"Campos here, if nothing else, will do a damn good job of keeping you covered. It wouldn't be prudent to praise his marksmanship at the moment, I don't think, but I will simply state that it is excellent. As for myself, considering my skills... I believe I would be best suited for going after the airships."

He moved into the fold, as it were, of the group heading toward the airships. As they had volunteered, those assembled had, at least seemingly, split into the groups they had declared themselves to be joining. So, while Elson went to the right, Campos went to the left. Whatever came next, they would be ready. That, at least, was guaranteed.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

He never would have thought that he would see Kuratel, much less after the Whispernight had occurred. Exchanging pleasantries to both old and new friends was, of course, his first priority, greeting them warmly, before standing still to admire the surroundings. Hunter was a man that exuded an almost ethereal kind of calm yet at the same time his presence was imposing and authoritative. His eyes moved from side to side, deep contemplation and analysis always a thing on his mind. His Royal Dragoon uniform was stylish and practical, his cavalry jacket a perfect fit and gilded with his rank and regiment badge while his caster gun and runic long sword hanged from his belt ready to be used in the occasion.

Hunter scanned the area with a somber look in his eyes, his gaze paying respect to what once was a great land full of life and activity. He stood right next to his friends and fellow officers as Elilah explained the situation at hand, following the same script of feigning obliviousness to past meetings. A steely gaze followed her movements, but his mind was occupied processing and creating plans for any eventuality that could occur.

After her explanation was done, he raised his hand to interject.

“My lady, if I may…” He said, retrieving a backpack and revealing it’s contents to the group. “Since we are separating, I believe these will come in handy. I brought them in case we got lost on the way, but I believe this is a much better purpose.”

Hunter gave every party member a flare gun, a clip on belt with 3 spare flares hanging from their grips.

“If anyone in any group needs any assistance, shoot a flare so we can pinpoint your location. Hopefully we will be able to send some help your way. It could also work for additional light sources or even distractions. Be creative.” He spoke politely, like addressing an audience.

“I’ll go with Sancroix and Faulkner, I believe my abilities will be much more handy in the retrieval of the airships. In any case, do not hesitate to shoot a flare, as I will be on the lookout for any signal.”

Without further ado, the colonel walked towards Cazarosta and gave the man a friendly pat on the back and shoulder, a friendly smile on his face.

“Those dragons have one hell of a challenge going their way, eh Caius? Take care of yourself dear friend, make sure Caterina hits the mark too. And don’t be too much of a hero or I’ll have to go and save your skin, and we all know your pride won’t be happy with that. Plus you have Campos there and if the reports are correct, his skill is legendary.” He said, giving a nod to Campos with the last words.

With a chuckle, he then moved towards the airship team, standing with them with pride.

“Captain Elson, ‘tis good to see you are eager for this mission as well. I’m sure your abilities will be of much help.” He said respectfully to his fellow officer before looking at the rest. “And here we are, walking into danger together once again, like old times.”

Hunter had nothing but the utmost respect for these men, and he was already feeling quite confident in their success.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

So it was that this mad mission to steal the lost treasures of a dead world would be underway. The group I was in was the largest, though I wished it could have been different. With this many people, it would be difficult for me to keep Feuer Krieger's mad lust for battle directed at the undead. Oh well, I gave the poor bastards fair warning about it.

Onwards we marched through the decrepit streets of what used to be Kuratel, now just an eerie corpse of a bygone age. For all its wonders and advances, it couldn't hold up against the dreaded terrors of the Whispernight. That was the joke wasn't it? Try as you might to elevate yourself or your people, you are still nothing against the demented, twisted magic that lies deep underneath. We are all just sheep waiting to be slaughtered, waiting to be destroyed in new and horrific ways by the hell spawn of whatever malignant madness is afoot. What good did all your splendor and technology do for you as the monsters came scrambling towards your door, fair Kuratel? Nothing I bet...nothing but died like the helpless animals we all are...

I needed some form of release, some measure of escape, some means of distancing myself from the horrors I had experienced. They come for me at night, in my dreams they torment me, bringing vengeance for my attempts at destroying them, and at the forefront is the fiery spirit of slaughter himself. Feuer Krieger made it no secret he despised being under the servitude of a pathetic mortal such as myself, though I was the one who brought him here to this wondrous world of slaughter. One day, one fateful day, he will likely turn upon me, driving that flame spewing blade of destruction into me, laughing that half mad, half enraged laugh he always seemed to hold. If the gods had created everything in this world, then they created Feuer Krieger as well, and I can never forgive them for such a sin.

What would we do if the others were not successful in dispatching the dragons? Would we be left to deal with them before trying to make off with the airships? Personally I had never seen the war spirit face off against such monsters, though I doubt it would require much convincing to get him to charge headfirst at them. So much uncontrollable rage swelled within that armor, I am positive Feuer Krieger would battle the gods themselves if he could, and I fear he would emerge victorious like so many other fights he had engaged in. Just what is able to kill this vicious monstrosity of fire and death?!

A fit of shaking befell me, likely from the stress of it all. Every step brought us closer to danger, closer to the enemy, to our deaths. If only I had the strength to meet that death with some amount of pride, perhaps history will see me as something more than a coward. No...no I deserve to be called a coward and a fool, for I did not have the courage to fight my own battles, instead I brought in this hell beast to fight for me, a mistake I regret each and every day.

"I think I hear something" I said, listening for a moment as we began to hear the distant cries of the damned. We hadn't even made it halfway to the ships and already the dead are coming for us. If that is to be the case, then they shall meet their maker once again, this time as nothing but ashes and embers. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The division of labor thus established, the two groups set off on their way; with the airship team being the biggest of the two. Walking through the ruined streets of Kuratel held the same feeling of eerie silence of any ghost town with the added tension of knowing that they might be swarmed by the undead at any moment. One of Virgil's hands hovered near his mana blade while the other stayed close to his Caster Gun. He knew for a fact that despite what it looked like, they were not alone. The living dead would be packed into every building, waiting for a sound to provoke them into action. Even if the managed to avoid setting any of them off; it was almost inevitable that they would run into one of the many roaming herds of zombies. Once things kicked off, it seemed likely that they would have to fight all the way to the ships. Fighting them off while preparing the ships would be difficult, so he hoped that the things weren't in too bad of shape.

Right now though his biggest concern was their traveling companion Orion. The guy did not seem to be holding up well, and given what he had said earlier about containing the curse within him or something, it was making Virgil twitchy. At the first sign that the guy was getting ready to go batty, he would pull his caster gun and put him away before he could do any harm to the rest of the group. He knew that he would feel bad about it later; but in the moment he wouldn't hesitate. The lives of him and his friends came first, and that was all there was to it.

Speaking of his friends however, it seemed the majority of them had decided to join the Airship team; much to his delight. It had been years since they had gotten together to properly raise some hell; and he was excited as hell. Making it better was the fact that their little jaunt was to aid their beloved city of Aelindra was the cherry to the whole thing. Letting Orion go ahead, Virgil fell back to walk with his friends, grinning broadly.

"Just like old times eh?" he whispered, "Reminds me of that time we had to sneak out of that ball because Alfonso-"

His reminiscing was cut short by the Orion guy warning them that he heard the enemy nearby. Indeed, when the conversation stopped, Virgil could also hear the moans and cries of the undead. The cries were coming closer and closer; but he couldn't see any of the bastards coming from in front or behind. As he looked around he felt something wet hit his head, and looked up on reflex to see a corpse standing at the edge of the roof of one of the buildings on either side of the street. With a groan the thing stepped forward and plummeted toward the group. Virgil dodged out of the way in time for the zombie to smash into the pavement; but though the impact shattered most of the bones in the things upper body, it still snapped its jaws at the group. A swift stomp to the head from Virgil quickly ended its movement, and he drew his sword in time to see even more corpses shambling toward the edges of not just one, but every building that lined the street they were on.

As corpses flung themselves off the roofs, the group would find themselves dodging ballistic bodies as even more undead filed out of the buildings. Virgil drew his blade and began to slice the creatures apart as they came near; catching some in mid-air.

"Yup. Just like old times!"


Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

A hint of melancholy touched the light of his eyes. Though Kuratel once was the seat of airship design in the north, they may have been enemies once, even so they were still fellow natives of Genesaris. Amber hues took stock of this once great city, from once majestic buildings to finely paved streets. All gone to ruin, so quickly without even a single piece of architecture spared. More so, he felt pain at all the lives lost in the cataclysm that was the Whispernight. Life is naturally fragile, there is always the tangible taste of death which stalked all mortals. Such was so for all those who Zare breathed life into.

Fists clenched in cold rage. Whilst those old fools sat in their vaunted seats, like lords in their ivory tower, all this was left unclaimed. Not even a spark or desire to rebuild or save those in need burned in the breast of those old fools.

He like Virgil kept a wary eye on Orion. He was not certain what to expect from this stranger. He certainly didn't seem stable, so long as he was only a threat to the undead and….other unsavory monsters they would get along swimmingly.Still, he hoped that whatever curse pervaded the man’s body would be kept under control.

He kept his left hand ready to grab his Caster gun just in case. Though he has seen a few curses in his time, the thought of having someone among them, one whom no one really knew was a rather eye opening experience. Alfonso, along with his old friends were all military types, men used to working with familiar men and women for the sake of Aelindra's protection. He found it a good chance to learn. He would certainly thank Elilah personally for this experience, it would undoubtedly be of use in the future.

“As always, you enjoy excursions like these.” He gave Virgil a clever smile. “Must you al-”

His hand moved more by instinct than conscious thought. His left hand reached the grip of his gun, and with practiced ease drew it from it's holster. He too could hear the undead, the moans of those poor souls. Again that quiet rage burned within his chest. He would free those trapped in undeath, it was his duty as a child of Zare, and as Nobility. His gun already primed before he usd arrived, loaded with the first newly designed Caster shell. It would seem that he would finally get to field test Stonehaven’s shared invention. He, unlike Faulkner was lucky enough to not be assaulted by rotten liquefied innards. Though he did have a spectacular view of it.

He followed his friend’s lead, tracing the source of Faulkner’s woes he too noticed the strange scene. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the scene, and quite frankly didn't have the time to think on it. It was certainly the first time he’d seen it rain undead, and even he dodged the first more followed. His right hand flashed to the hilt of his sword, in one smooth movement he drew his mana-blade.

“Watch out old boy,” the warning to Virgil came seconds before he leveled his gun and fired. A bolt of white light streaked from the barrel. What followed was a testament to the West and Stonehaven’s ingenuity. The first undead shambling from out of the building was hit full on in the chest. The bolt of ‘fire’ as hot as a main sequence star vaporized the full upper half of its torso, along with those few unlucky ones following from behind. There wasn't enough time to reload another round, following his training he holstered the Caster gun and begun to lay into them with his blade.

“We should find a way around them,” he spoke as his sword, a blur of steel and mana rending a foe in twain. “With this many we will draw unwanted attention from far worse.” Already his mind was working on finding an escape route. They hadn't the time to waste on killing these poor souls

Edited by Garion
Autocorrect hates me

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Elson simply smiled and nodded at Hunter, his attention mostly focused on searching for threats. Never let the enemy get the jump on the you, he had been taught, and even better if you can make them think that they have done so. Of course, undead, with their rotting brains and whatnot, were unfortunately not much in the thinking department. So it became a matter of dealing with them before they could strike at you. And it wasn't long at all until battle was met, with walking corpses diving from the nearby rooftops and shambling out of the nearby buildings. Forewarned of an incoming attack by the sight ahead of him, Elson drew his own blade, thrusting it into the air to meet and halt the descent of one diving directly at him. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the corpse, dead once more, tumbling through the air and into one of its brethren, rendering them a tangle of rotted limbs.

"Oh, 'like old times', huh?  It seemed to me like our enemies were far less rotten back then!"



Elson knew he wasn't the greatest of warriors, but he still felt like he was in his element here. He trained his combat skills diligently, in order to make up for what he perceived to be his weakest area. So it was that he seemed to dance around the ravenous, rotting horde, his blade speedily flicking forward with a thrust or slice, snuffing the life out of another course each time. He could feel the beginnings of the battle-joy, that feeling oft described to him by warriors more skilled, but he shook the feeling away for the time being as Alfonso's words reached his ears. This was not the place to stand and fight, especially since they could be easily be surrounded and cut off on all sides here. Like his friend and brother-in-arms, his gaze scanned around the area for the best route away from here, whenever a nearby corpse was not demanding his focus and attention. Eventually, he found his gaze directed toward a building immediately to their right: Through the doorway, the door it once contained having been torn away from its hinges, he could see a jagged opening in the opposite wall. Beyond it, what he could see of the street beyond was clear. And in front of it, the horde was thinner than it was around the other buildings. He met the gaze of each of his fellows, gesturing them toward the breach before moving toward it himself.

"Onward, gentlemen! We'll soon be overwhelmed on this street, so perhaps we will fare better on the next!"

Perhaps surprisingly, Elson was at the forefront of the charge, favoring the tactic of bursting through and past the horde, scattering them and subsequently being gone whenever they would recover order and coherence. Even so, he left the corpses no openings through which to strike at him.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

CaUmllt.pngEveryone went to their respective group, doing much of the work on their own, which is a very encouraging aspect of it all. For now, it showed that they could all work together, or at least understand one another to a point, and that made her feel more at ease with the decision of allowing outsiders in. She has never been under the impression that they are invincible, so she doesn't operate under such airs. 

The first group set off, but before they went too far, the woman sent them with a parting gift that would be helpful in case they find themselves pressed into a corner. A tiny sweet bird with plumage brightly colored green, its beak a gentle curve of yellow; silently it floated above the group, the knowledge of its existence established long before this excursion was a thought. Its use had not been revealed to the group though; she figured it would be best to keep it hidden until the right moment.

Into the depths of the rotting city, creatures turned by the events lurked with minds dripping from their rotting ears. Long ago this city was a prosperous piece of land that held many dreams and hopes, with an equal amount of dangers and issues as any city would. The people that had once inhabited Kuratel now wander about lost and unaware that their existence is one of disturbance and threat. 

It has been some time since they've had intruders, meaning they are famished. The smell of fresh blood pumping through sun-warmed skin drew them closer, ignoring that the group also carried with determination with them. Each beating of their hearts pushed the corpses forward; every time they spoke, it was a symphony of angels to their rotting senses. Urged by anticipation, the swarm of dangers awakened, causing the city to surge with noise and unique power - it shook, it screamed. In a matter of minutes, the group was attacked, pressured backward as they try to move forward. 

MAde clear, the possibility of getting to their destination while fighting through the hoards is impossible. Already the whole city knows the living has landed, and soon enough the entirety of Kuratel's dangers will be on top of the moving group. As they fought, Elson moved, their current path suddenly laid before them but not clear of hazards. The dead still walked the streets, some at a fast pace than others, some having weapons in their strong hands, and some with even an inkling of magic flowing in their melted veins. 

Feeling the reawakening of the city, she turned to face her small group of people with a hidden smile. Their work is going to be tough, now that Kuratel is aware of the strangers walking its streets. 

"I want the dragons."

The words fell from her lips with a sincere determination that pierced her followers. 

Sitting on her shoulders are two small birds, each as colorful and sweet as the one that had left with the first group. Together they looked around with dark eyes, eyeing the group, the city, and then the sky they so wished to fly against. Just like their companion, their reasoning for being there is hidden and extremely useful.

"I am not against killing them when necessary, but I would prefer to have them obtained in the best manner possible. I will do the binding and most of the wrangling, while you all incapacitate them."

The woman moved, beginning the dance on the outskirts of the city. She had no idea where the dragons could be, what they are capable of, and how they will react being intruded upon. These are risks she is willing to take, even if it means risking the lives of all those involved, a risk on their lives they all were willing to take. 

As they moved, she searched. The land beneath her feet is bright with color, strings of energy flowing from each corpse, connecting them all in a tangled web of possibilities. It has been some time since she was put in a position to use her limited sight, so all the colors, all the vibrations, threaten to confuse her. She gritted her teeth and took in a deep breath of humid air; today is not the day to be overwhelmed so quickly. There are many depending on their success, and she will not be the reason for their failure. 

When the ground shook, she lifted her head to the sky, searching for what lurked behind smoke and clouds. Surrounding them was another hoard of undead, but they appeared to be less than interested in approaching the small group. 

"Looks like the dragons are hiding, how about we draw them to us?"

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


AWhqGN3.jpg   Reese Tenement

As the other group departed on their own journey toward the airships; Reese stretched his arms out high with a sort of relieved grunt. He leaned forward when doing so and propped his chest on the barrel of his still covered rifle, It acted as a sort of prop to keep him from falling over while he stretched. She spoke of the dragons and how she would prefer to keep them alive rather than sunder their ties to the living world. He didn't have any real opinion of it; It seemed mildly irresponsible and a tad bit suicidal but he didn't really care what she did with the dragons. He just wanted to take a crack at the fire breathing armored beasts. 

Reese raised his right hand stiffly to his forehead and gave her a bit of a sloppy salute as if to say 'Aye aye captain'. He'd figured a few sperate agendas would come into play with this job. After-all why have two teams for only two objectives? One larger team could have easilly taken the airships and subdued the dragons with good planning. It only made sense that there was a more difficult plan in action. 

He picked up his rifle and began to untie the strings that held the burlap like wrap around it. As the strings came loose and the weapon began to show itself; It was obvious that the piece could do some damage. Almost as long as he was tall and the barrel being the size of your average golf ball; It looked like quite the piece of equipment. It was primarilly made of a polished lightly stained red wood. It shined in the light almost as brightly as the chrome finish to the outside of the barrel. It looked more like a trophy piece than an actual weapon to be used in combat; Truthfully it was made to look that way. If a woman ever entered Reese' life; They would have to accept that he treated the rifle almost like a lover. He took good care of it in every way possible. The rifle was strangely designed but well crafted for it's purpose. Instead of sitting against the shoulder like any normal rifle, This had a curve at the butt of the weapon of which you sat on top of your shoulder. The sight for it lay on the side of the gun at perfect eye level for his one good eye. The firing mechanism at the top seemed to resemble the striker to an old powder rifle. This of course was no normal black powder rifle; It was a weapon of alchemic design that took advantage of the low burnin temperature of the oxygen surrounding it's projectile. A healthy mixture of both black powder and alchemic sulfur meant that the weapon would blow a grapefruit sized hole in nearly anything it was pointed at.

Reese seemed to carress it as he mounted it atop his shoulder. He was immensely ready for their endeavor. It seemed however that the dragons would likely come after some less than savory company from the undead. Reese could smell them, hear them creeping in the shadows that hid even the most grotesque of their kind. Reese pulled out what looked like a golf ball sized ball bearing that seemed to be made of multiple metals and popped it into the top of the barrel. He pulled the striker from it's down position and primed it to fire upon his trigger pull. He then placed a small red pill sized object into the hole the stiker would come down on. This was the gun powder and alchem-sulfur mix.


Although he found it almost impossible; Reese attempted to hide how excited he truly was. He began to whistle with a bit of a smile on his face as he looked to the woman that was giving the orders and his other teammate who hadn't really spoken to him as of yet.


'At least the atmosphere seems to have lightened up a bit.'

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.


  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

  • Create New...