Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17 
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Mar 23, 2019 19:31:41 GMT -8
As humanoid foes approached, the Knights stiffened in preparation to spill blood with more of the same display of beating chests. Their dinging breasplates were every so intricate and advanced, yet they belied the brutish nature of their wearers. As one enemy raised a bow a Knight lifted up his halberd and tested its weight before winding up to throw it as a javelin. Yet, this seemed unnecessary as electricity arced between the enemies. Five horn-helmeted heads turned to examine Thaelyn before they laughed, clapped, whistled, and gave something between cheers and jeers. They had no doubt that she was capable of sending said arc from the back of the formation, so clearly she was only walking forward to stick it to the purple haired woman that told her to go to the rear. A silly, but an oddly respectable display.
Still, the enemy had to be dealt with. They prepared to charge, before one of the Brothers raised a fist shouting "Standhalten!" His Brothers obliged and instead kneeled and let loose their five loaded bolts on the foe before getting to once more wind up the mechanisms. The fact only six men were sent to approach the force that was superior in both quality and quantity was awfully suspicious, and they hoped that they could voice this concern quickly.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Mar 25, 2019 5:38:28 GMT -8
Fenrir had little thought for the mage's actions, save that he was grateful that she stepped forward to cast her spell. The roasting of the men in their armor left a metallic tinge in the air, one that he was certain felt far more unpleasant than it smelled.
As Dasyra stepped up to stab the one with a bow, he heard the crossbows ready behind him, sidestepping to allow them a better shot past his bulky form. The Crossbow bolts would be followed by a brief flurry of violence, assuming cultists were left alive, that would see the remainder torn apart.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310 
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Mar 27, 2019 18:07:32 GMT -8
Thaelyn shot a vaguely confused look at Gabriel as he spoke, because she really didn't understand his language and had no bloody clue what he'd said. The following portion, however, made her scowl at him.
"I'm only temporarily your companion, and I intend to live long enough to see their priest and priestess liberated, so don't you worry about me. I'll stick around long enough to be useful."
Turning back to watch the actual melee combatants delve into the fray, she took stock of her person for a moment and decided to be reasonable. Retreating to the back of the group, she focused on gathering the magical energy in her blood, with the intent of healing herself. She wouldn't be at all useful if she passed out from blood loss, after all.
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Cult of Xoilun
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Registered: Feb 4, 2019 21:09:39 GMT -8
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Post by Cult of Xoilun on Mar 27, 2019 18:11:35 GMT -8
Faced by such overwhelming odds, the remaining cultists were taken down quickly, two riddled with crossbow bolts and the other felled by the wingman's halberd. Whatever creature the Beast was, it hadn't yet been fetched, leaving them the freedom to proceed past the corpses and into a large cave, riddled with stalactites and stalagmites. There were veins of ore that threaded through the walls that reflected their lights, filling the area with a glow.
But they wouldn't have long to prepare, because down one of the far tunnels, they'd hear a low growl and the scraping of metal against stone. The Beast was on its way.
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Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 127
Age: 29
Physical Description: Tall and sturdy, Dasyra is a lightly muscled and curvaceous woman. Light-skinned and with strong, striking facial features, she stands out in a crowd not only for her height - taller than the average Esdaran woman at 5'9" - but for her strikingly violet hair. Said hair usually worn tamed back into a long braid that falls nearly to her knees. She has pale blue eyes that are piercing, and often filled with mirth - or determination.
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Clothes and Equipment: It's very rare to see Dasyra outside of her armor/uniform - which consists of lots of silver-edged greyish-white plate and blue fabric - but on the rare occasions it happens, she tends toward comfortable clothing in shades of blue and grey, with sturdy brown boots and fingerless blue gloves. When on duty, she carries a long halberd, and it never leaves her side while she's in her armor. She has little in the way of personal effects, and wears no jewelry. When off duty, she tends to carry a small sword and a set of daggers.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 11, 2016 12:59:25 GMT -8
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Post by Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael on Mar 27, 2019 18:26:57 GMT -8
Dasyra ducked behind one of the cultists after taking down the bowman, using the blade-wielding man as a human shield so as to avoid getting pelted by the crossbow bolts launched by the knights, and with the bodies around her feet, she looked quite satisfied. Beckoning for everyone to follow her, she and her wingmen led the way into the cavern, where they spread out to make sure there weren't any more cultists hiding behind the various rocks or the like. This meant she missed what Thaelyn said, but seeing the mage at the back of the pack, so to speak, she looked satisfied, before turning to the other combatants with a very serious expression.
"What experience do you have in fighting large beings?"
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Mar 28, 2019 12:09:38 GMT -8
"I consider it a specialty." Fenrir answered, without trace of boast in his voice.
"I am far sturdier than any of you due to my...origins, I can hold the beast's attention, allowing you all to get in there in relative safety." He stated, simply. His former tribe had utilized similar tactics on numerous occasions to bring down foes far larger than themselves, and this one would be no different.
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Mar 28, 2019 16:42:16 GMT -8
"Anyone you fight beside is a companion for life," Gabriel replies. "Besides, you are the only one here I know." He adds with just a trace of humor to the young woman. It had been some time since he'd felt like throwing out a quip, the death of his father and the following war had drained him of much of the young man he used to be. Yet something in her obstinance made him want to tease the redheaded mage.
"None at all." Gabriel admits when asked if he had experience fighting large beings. His gaze drifting to their wolfman companion even before he speaks. "Somehow, that does not surprise me." The wolfman certainly looked like the sort that was well equipped to slay monsters, a less generous sort might even view Fenrir as a monster himself.
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Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Mar 29, 2019 21:49:30 GMT -8
Crank, pull, slot, the crossbows were reloaded once more with the bodkin tip bows dipped in holy water. Alaric waited for the input of the others before speaking up. "Long back we spent our years exterminating large pests be they dragon or giant. Deal with whatever trash it throws at us first, it's not the Giants Club that's kills you but the wolves he sics upon as you try to dodge his blows. Or a lesson from the dragons, don't waste time trying to hurt what's protected when that time can be spent moving in to hurt a soft spot." Alaric didn't know how pertinent what he said would be what with the likely tentacular nature of the thing but it wasn't like anyone was saying anything better.
"With that I think it best be hurry. It is awfully suspicious those few men went against us when we outnumber and out-fight them."
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Apr 9, 2019 18:31:22 GMT -8
"That shouldn't be a positive point for you."
Thaelyn's response to Gabriel's statement that she was the only one present he was acquainted with was noticeably dry. She believed that quite staunchly -- she was nothing special and he certainly shouldn't be pleased with knowing her. He didn't even know her name. She hadn't shared it and he hadn't asked. Trailing along behind the others, she sealed up her wounds with her magic, and withdrew a small bottle from one of her belt pouches, downing its shimmering red contents with a grimace. Replenishing her blood magically was unpleasant, if only because the potion tasted foul. While the others discussed their tactics against large creatures, she took a moment to sit and rest and let the potion do its work.
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Cult of Xoilun
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Registered: Feb 4, 2019 21:09:39 GMT -8
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Post by Cult of Xoilun on Apr 9, 2019 18:35:49 GMT -8
The sounds of metal against stone grew steadily louder, and soon were accompanied by a screeching roar that seemed to shake the very stone around them. And then, the heroes had run out of time, as from the mouth of a tunnel exploded a horrific beast, chains dangling from shackles around its neck and gangly, bony limbs. The creature was large, easily twelve feet tall at the shoulder and nearly brushing the ceiling of the cavern in which the intruders were gathered. Its slavering maw snapped and snarled as it lunged forward, intent on devouring the would-be saviors, its focus on Gabriel and Thaelyn, as they appeared to be the two easiest targets. |
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Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 127
Age: 29
Physical Description: Tall and sturdy, Dasyra is a lightly muscled and curvaceous woman. Light-skinned and with strong, striking facial features, she stands out in a crowd not only for her height - taller than the average Esdaran woman at 5'9" - but for her strikingly violet hair. Said hair usually worn tamed back into a long braid that falls nearly to her knees. She has pale blue eyes that are piercing, and often filled with mirth - or determination.
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Clothes and Equipment: It's very rare to see Dasyra outside of her armor/uniform - which consists of lots of silver-edged greyish-white plate and blue fabric - but on the rare occasions it happens, she tends toward comfortable clothing in shades of blue and grey, with sturdy brown boots and fingerless blue gloves. When on duty, she carries a long halberd, and it never leaves her side while she's in her armor. She has little in the way of personal effects, and wears no jewelry. When off duty, she tends to carry a small sword and a set of daggers.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 11, 2016 12:59:25 GMT -8
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Post by Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael on Apr 9, 2019 18:47:00 GMT -8
"Your offer is appreciated, good sir, and I'll gladly leave you to it."
Dasyra seemed both relieved and impressed by Fenrir's offer, because she and her companions knew what the Beast was, and that they were going to need the wolf-man's bravery in this encounter. Her gaze flashed to the knights, and a small frown creased her lips.
"There aren't many human defenses in the eyries. Most of them are in the fortress. Abominations dwell in these caves. I doubt we'll find many more men--"
Before she could continue her explanation, the Beast was upon them. She whirled around, eyes wide. It was even more horrific than the reports had said, and even brave Dasyra was briefly frozen in terror. Until she realized the monstrosity was going for their mage and the less-armored swordsman. Instinct and many years of training drove her forward, halberd lashing out to slash at the Beast's leg in an attempt to distract the thing or trip it up.
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Apr 10, 2019 9:29:36 GMT -8
"Meurta!" Gaberial swears in the name of his Goddess as the best bursts into the room. It was a horror unlike anything he'd ever seen and he found that... he did not mind it as much. Knowing that he was staring down a true monster in battle was frightening yes but it was not as haunting as seeing the eyes of a man of an age with himself go out.
The beast charges towards him but he can tell its true goal is Thaelyn. Without hesitation he places himself in between the monster and the blood mage, seeking to drive his sword up under the beast jaw to slash at its underbelly.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Apr 11, 2019 8:37:38 GMT -8
Fenrir sprang into action immediately as he noticed the Beast's targets, runes lighting up along his armored legs as he leaped at the beast. Fenrir was aiming to use his own considerable mass to knock the abomination off-target, hopefully this would be timed well with Dasyra's attempt to trip the creature.
"You are mine!" He snarled as his armored shoulder slammed home into the creature.
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Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Apr 13, 2019 21:23:59 GMT -8
Alaric opened his mouth to reply, but it seemed he wouldn't get the chance with quite the beastie approaching. As one the Knights let out something between a howl and a roar that holy men typically didn't produce, before charging. They didn't particularly care who it was targeting, their plan was the same regardless. The tunnel did somewhat limit area of motion but the Knights still had just enough space for long strides to be followed by leaps onto its back from either side. Now it would have to divert attention to getting five stubborn men in full-plate off of it's back, or keep with its original plan and face some stabbing in the back.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Apr 19, 2019 17:35:02 GMT -8
..Well, that was quite a sight, now wasn't it? Even the mostly-emotionless Thaelyn's eyes widened at seeing the awful creature that came bolting into the cavern where they were taking their temporary respite, and somehow, she wasn't surprised when it came right for her. Just taking her appearance into account, she appeared to be the most vulnerable member of the group. And for a moment, she pondered whether or not she should attempt to evade the attack.
The choice was taken from her when the others leaped into action -- most noticeably, Gabriel putting himself directly between her and the monster. Quickly vaulting over the rock on which she'd been perched, she hurried around behind a large stalagmite, and quickly drew the blade of her spear across a bare patch of skin. As blood began to pour from the wound, she gathered the magical energy from that vivid red fluid and began to prepare a spell, meanwhile peeking cautiously around the rock formation to see how the others were faring.
[Charge 1]
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Cult of Xoilun
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Registered: Feb 4, 2019 21:09:39 GMT -8
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Post by Cult of Xoilun on Apr 19, 2019 17:39:51 GMT -8
The creature didn't seem to be particularly intelligent, as suddenly finding one of its intended targets attacking it in return made the Beast skid to a sudden halt, jerking its head upward to avoid the slashing of Gabriel's blade. This made it quite easy for the Wingman's halberd to catch in the protrusions on its legs as the thing attempted to prance backwards and away, making it stumble. And then it was knocked thoroughly off-kilter by the weight of Fenrir slamming into its body, making it stumble aside.
Before it could do little more than shake its head and turn to snarl at the wolf-man, it found unexpected weight clambering onto its back, which meant the Knights would now find themselves on the back of a twisted monstrosity that was bucking and flailing about like a maddened bull, desperately trying to dislodge its unwanted passengers as it leaped around the cavern, slamming its sides into the rock walls. Considering all the stalactites hanging down, this could prove quite hazardous for the armored men, but at least they were distracting it. A concerted effort might be enough to bring the creature down quickly, before it could take a chunk out of any of them.
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Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 127
Age: 29
Physical Description: Tall and sturdy, Dasyra is a lightly muscled and curvaceous woman. Light-skinned and with strong, striking facial features, she stands out in a crowd not only for her height - taller than the average Esdaran woman at 5'9" - but for her strikingly violet hair. Said hair usually worn tamed back into a long braid that falls nearly to her knees. She has pale blue eyes that are piercing, and often filled with mirth - or determination.
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Clothes and Equipment: It's very rare to see Dasyra outside of her armor/uniform - which consists of lots of silver-edged greyish-white plate and blue fabric - but on the rare occasions it happens, she tends toward comfortable clothing in shades of blue and grey, with sturdy brown boots and fingerless blue gloves. When on duty, she carries a long halberd, and it never leaves her side while she's in her armor. She has little in the way of personal effects, and wears no jewelry. When off duty, she tends to carry a small sword and a set of daggers.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 11, 2016 12:59:25 GMT -8
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Post by Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael on Apr 19, 2019 17:49:13 GMT -8
"Well done, my friends!"
Dasyra crowed her appreciation of the Knights' tactics, unable to help a laugh. Anyone bold enough to perch on the back of such a creature was someone she could admire! Unfortunately now she was somewhat at a loss as to how to contribute to the Beast's downfall itself, as the thing had gone mad and was now trying to dislodge the Knights by ramming its body into the cavern walls and jumping about, its legs flying in all directions -- and there was no way she wanted to get hit by one of those vicious paws.
After a few moments of pondering, she rushed in, ducking and rolling under the lash of hind legs, and slashing upward at where one of those limbs connected to the body. If she could manage to sever the tendon there and bring the Beast down a leg, it would be the beginning of the end for that awful thing. Then they could move on and free the zanora, which was her main goal.
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Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Apr 21, 2019 21:59:33 GMT -8
The frenzy of the creature was more or less expected, nothing conscious would want five large men shoving pointy things blessed specifically against you into your soft bits. One man was thrown off with a shoulder impaled on a stalagmite, a situation that was hard to rectify but he was nevertheless working on. One got thrown off at the unfortunate angle to get his arm broken backwards to the direction it was supposed to face. His angry yell would echo through the tunnel as he took the chain and ball off of his flail, and tied it around his wrist so that the limp limb could be swung around as his new flail. Yet another struck a wall with a quite nasty concussion, which lead to a wobble in his walk for moments. But quickly the holy warrior righted himself and charged back at the thing.
Two remained, with one willingly dropping off to avoid the fate of his Brothers. However, Alaric remained with a plan. He pressed himself to the beast with the grip on his halberd close to the axe-blade, the weapon would be lodge in like the pick of a mountain climber whereas his other hand now held his rapier, pressing the dagger-like pommel into it to help him crawl along the length of it's back. Once penetration of its flesh after another he would get closer to the vile thing's head where a final blow could be made or - failing that - the incisions along the way would give him good groundwork for getting to its spine.
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Apr 22, 2019 5:56:05 GMT -8
The beast was being harried quite severely and Gaberial was not one to let an opportunity pass him by. The beast had managed to avoid the slash to its neck by rearing back only to be knocked to the side, tripped, and accosted from the rear. The young man, smoothly retracting his sword from the slash cocking it back as he springs forward following the beast.
In the same motion, he thrusts with his sword putting all of his body weight behind the blow, his target once again the beast's neck. This time, he hopes that it will be too distracted to dodge and the near three feet of masterwork Rondonian steel will find its mark.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Apr 26, 2019 6:39:56 GMT -8
Fenrir shook his head, clearing the momentary stars that clouded his vision after the impact. His vision returned just in time to see the beast snarl at him, an act that would earn the monstrosity a smash across the face from his gauntleted arm.
He heard the sickening crunches that accompanied the knights being smashed against the ceiling. The sound nearly made him wince, but he kept his focus on the horrific thing before him, seeking to hold as much of its attention as he could.
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