Out of nowhere, Tamu lunged at the Demon and thrust a sword towards its back. The Demon's erretic motions made her unable to get a clean hit, but she grazed its side. She was trying to get its attention so the others could finish it off.
The League: Bloodlines ((Started/Closed))
- Thread starter Dragon_of_red
- Start date
<spoiler=Steak>No auto hits remember.
The Demon turned as the blade grazed it side, and it proved to be fatal. Strife barreled into it, and sent him off balance, towards the open edge of the cave. He started to tumble, and as he did, he reached out and grabbed onto Strife with his left hand and tried to latch himself onto Tamu with his right as he fell down towards the plain stone underneath.
The Demon turned as the blade grazed it side, and it proved to be fatal. Strife barreled into it, and sent him off balance, towards the open edge of the cave. He started to tumble, and as he did, he reached out and grabbed onto Strife with his left hand and tried to latch himself onto Tamu with his right as he fell down towards the plain stone underneath.
As the Demon fell to its apparent demise, the eyes of the others were too transfixed on its grasps at their comrades to see a prone figure near the back slowly twitching. Ramba's eyelids flickered as he regained some mild form of consciousness. He opened his eyes, but he did not feel his eyelids move. Instead he saw a golden mist all around, which he could rotate to see despite not moving his head. He heard whispers, calm and gentle voices. He held some faint memory of those voices, of the Sun Priests he knew in what seemed like another age. They all spoke discordantly, and their message was garbled to Ramba. Through it all though, a single voice rang clear.
"Save them."
Ramba made no movements of his own, but from his back dozens of golden glowing tendrils shot out and sped across the room, making a counter grab at Strife and Tamu. It took most of them to hold their weight, but a few were left free, and frantically grappled with the Demon's hands and attempted to pry them off.
"Save them."
Ramba made no movements of his own, but from his back dozens of golden glowing tendrils shot out and sped across the room, making a counter grab at Strife and Tamu. It took most of them to hold their weight, but a few were left free, and frantically grappled with the Demon's hands and attempted to pry them off.
The Demon wrapped around both heroes, trying to take them with him in his inevitable demise. He started to fall, but as he did, he stopped suddenly, almost wrenching a shadow arm off. He looked to see the tendrils saving thew people he was holding, and the Demon smiled, a toothless empty smile which revealed nothing but more darkness. Using the tendrils as an anchor, he pulled himself up, still clenching the heroes in his hands. When he was balanced again, he moved forward and drove his shoulder into the tendrils, he roared in pain as he tried to cut it, but smoke just raised form his shoulder, causing him to collapse. He still clenched the heroes, as the tendrils were wrapped around him and them at the same time, he dug his fingers in, trying to take a few lives with him.
NAUGHTY TENTACLES INCO- *Slaps self*
"Ramba, get Tamu to safety, a fall won't kill me but I'm almost positive that Tamu won't survive this fall." Strife called out, striking the demon to draw his attention away from Tamu so that she could get out alive. Not for the safety of Tamu, but to earn the trust of Ramba and any of the others that doubted him.
If he was able to gain their trust, then he could manipulate them to do whatever he pleased which would come in useful if he wanted to achieve his goal.
If he was able to gain their trust, then he could manipulate them to do whatever he pleased which would come in useful if he wanted to achieve his goal.
Ramba could not hear Strife's words, at least not in the obvious sense. He was still barely conscious, but the tendrils began to act according to Strife's commands, working harder to pry the Demon's grip from Tamu, doing their best to burn every inch of its skin. A few tendrils still suspended Strife even as this tangle occurred, to prevent him from falling before the Demon had been finished off.
The Demon kept its grip as tight as it could. But it was unable to hold on to Tamu as she thrashed and the tendrils pulled harder. She slipped out of his claws, leaving a large gash across her stomach. He then reached across to grab both hands onto strife, but only the few tendrils could not hold him up anymore, he began to fall back out of the gap again, still clenching strife as tight as he could, the demon fell towards the ground.
When the light hit him, he became more transparent, but still clawed into Strife as he fell, aiming to land on top of him. The Beast hissed at him, acknowledging his death, and aimed to take a bite out of his neck as he fell.
When the light hit him, he became more transparent, but still clawed into Strife as he fell, aiming to land on top of him. The Beast hissed at him, acknowledging his death, and aimed to take a bite out of his neck as he fell.
Ramba's tendrils continued to fight as if on their own. Tamu was retracted from the battle and dropped more or less safely to the ground. The whips of light that had dropped her there floated aimlessly, their task fulfilled. Ramba's eyes flickered open, and his conscious mind began to take hold. With a jolt he became aware of his situation, and scrambled to the edge, where he saw Strife plummeting down towards the Demon. The few tendrils he still had free tightly wove together into a crude javelin that the old priest held in his hands. He unsteadily stood up, his head spinning and his vision all but gone from the effort of combat while still on the verge of death.
He felt his hand shake violently, and his light grew dim for a moment, and threatened to dissipate entirely. He thought of his wife and child, and his resolve urged him to hold on. He grabbed the projectile out of the air and flung it down at the Demon before falling flat on his back. The tendrils dissipated, leaving his javelin as his only presence left in the battle.
He felt his hand shake violently, and his light grew dim for a moment, and threatened to dissipate entirely. He thought of his wife and child, and his resolve urged him to hold on. He grabbed the projectile out of the air and flung it down at the Demon before falling flat on his back. The tendrils dissipated, leaving his javelin as his only presence left in the battle.
Strife let the demon hammer away at his armor, yet for all the demon did not a single scratch was left on Strife's body. Strife just laughed as he and the demon plummeted downward at higher speeds every minute. Strife made quick jabs to hit the demon in its chest, looking over its shoulder once to see a javelin of light flying down towards him. Strife planned to keep the demon distracted so that the javelin could finish it off.
The demon kept its grip tight on Strife, still aiming to land on top of him to take him with him. He didn't notice the javelin until it was piercing through the shadows, into him. The javelin went clean into him, straight through its chest, and unfortunately for Strife, straight into him. The force of the golden tendril, strengthened by the pieces of darkness still wrapped around it, pierced the Armour of the weakened Hero. The Javelin skewered both as they fell straight down, slamming heavily on the ground with a thud.
The shadow spread around the ground, and the demon was no longer alive. All that was left was a golden javelin embedded into Strifes Chest. Zero looked around, and said mostly to himself "Oh Lord I hope that is over..." he said as he moved towards Ramba, stopping his power from flowing so he wouldn't over exert himself. "Someone please go check on Strife.." he said calmly, cradling Ramba, "He may have excellent defenses but he is tired and that Demon wasn't a push over."
<spoiler=OOC>Don't blame me for what happened... Blame the person who threw the Javelin...
There was really no avoiding this scenario... Either you got crushed along with the Demon, or skewered to death by a javelin.
Also, I pinky promise I will finish this arc tomorrow.
The shadow spread around the ground, and the demon was no longer alive. All that was left was a golden javelin embedded into Strifes Chest. Zero looked around, and said mostly to himself "Oh Lord I hope that is over..." he said as he moved towards Ramba, stopping his power from flowing so he wouldn't over exert himself. "Someone please go check on Strife.." he said calmly, cradling Ramba, "He may have excellent defenses but he is tired and that Demon wasn't a push over."
<spoiler=OOC>Don't blame me for what happened... Blame the person who threw the Javelin...
There was really no avoiding this scenario... Either you got crushed along with the Demon, or skewered to death by a javelin.
Also, I pinky promise I will finish this arc tomorrow.
Strife lay at the bottom of the cliff, his body now unarmored because it would have taken too much effort to keep his armor up and survive. The only armor he left on was around the javelin so that he could at least live to talk to Ramba. One of his arms was broken, but what little shields he had kept up had saved him from sustaining any internal injuries.
"Ramba, next time be sure to hit only the other bastard." Strife called out, not knowing if anyone had heard him. Strife just stared up at the ceiling, his life flashing before his eyes as his vision faded. Strife realized that he had been wrong for the past few days, and vowed change what he had done if he survived.
Before anyone had time to go down and check to see if Strife was still alive, his breathing stopped and the golden javelin sunk deeper in his chest, slicing clean through his heart and into the ground below. Strife's eyes closed and his body went limp...
"Ramba, next time be sure to hit only the other bastard." Strife called out, not knowing if anyone had heard him. Strife just stared up at the ceiling, his life flashing before his eyes as his vision faded. Strife realized that he had been wrong for the past few days, and vowed change what he had done if he survived.
Before anyone had time to go down and check to see if Strife was still alive, his breathing stopped and the golden javelin sunk deeper in his chest, slicing clean through his heart and into the ground below. Strife's eyes closed and his body went limp...
Yep Strife died. Not sure if it was okay to keep him alive for that little post, but if you have any problems with it please tell me and I'll be glad to discuss it.
It took several minutes for Garkar to make his way down the distance that the demon had fallen. He wasn't helped by the many pains that filled his body, or his right arm that he couldn't even use to help balance. Garkar suspected that the limb would never move again, if it would even remain at all.
However, he also knew there wasn't much reason for hurrying. If his comrade had survived the fall then a little waiting wouldn't do any worse. If he didn't... well Garkar was no healer anyways.
Once he made it down though it was quite easy to find the impact site. One look was all that Garkar needed, there was no way that Strife was alive. Still, to die as he had; in battle, grappling with his enemy, dragging the foe to death even as he went; the greatest death any could earn. Garkar knelt next to the broken body and began to pray.
'Great Spirits, guide this true warrior to the reward that he has earned...'
It was another few minutes before Garkar returned to the others, He held Strife's body cradled in his one great arm. Without a word Garkar lay strife down in a respectful way so that they could all see the condition that he was in.
'To fight to the end.' He thought to himself. 'Without rest until the battle is won. If there was ever a virtue that I and my followers will pursue, this is it.'
However, he also knew there wasn't much reason for hurrying. If his comrade had survived the fall then a little waiting wouldn't do any worse. If he didn't... well Garkar was no healer anyways.
Once he made it down though it was quite easy to find the impact site. One look was all that Garkar needed, there was no way that Strife was alive. Still, to die as he had; in battle, grappling with his enemy, dragging the foe to death even as he went; the greatest death any could earn. Garkar knelt next to the broken body and began to pray.
'Great Spirits, guide this true warrior to the reward that he has earned...'
It was another few minutes before Garkar returned to the others, He held Strife's body cradled in his one great arm. Without a word Garkar lay strife down in a respectful way so that they could all see the condition that he was in.
'To fight to the end.' He thought to himself. 'Without rest until the battle is won. If there was ever a virtue that I and my followers will pursue, this is it.'
I won't be on tonight, I have a friend over. I apologize heavily, so just assume Tamu is following and I'll be back either at the end or at the next arc.
For a few minutes Ramba remained as he was when he hit the ground. The unconscious man still as if he were dead, his eyes lazily rolled back into his head. His mouth hung open a bit, and a few dried drops of blood stained his golden beard. As Garkar climbed up to where the rest of the group was located, Ramba began to wake. The crescendo of voices was gone, as was the curious reserve of strength that had preserved him through the fight. He barely had the strength to lift his head, and all that he was rewarded with was the image of Garkar dragging Strife's lifeless body to him
Ramba said nothing when he caught this sight in his eyes. He could only avert his eyes and bow his head toward the ground.
Ramba said nothing when he caught this sight in his eyes. He could only avert his eyes and bow his head toward the ground.
Zero looked at the corpse of strife, and he was hit with a sense of guilt. 'You made the mission... Now people are dead, good job...' his mind said sarcastically to himself. He looked up to where the opening in the cave was, and something moved inside. The orange staff began to roll out the hole, and fall down the shaft, slamming onto the ground next to Strifes body.
The wooden staff however, did not shatter. Zero looked at it curiously, and went to pick it up. As he touched it, his hand was sent back. He tried again and his hand was again shocked backwards. "Something is odd about this staff..." he said mostly to himself. He Summoned his powers into his palm and grabbed it, this time finding no resistance or anything special other than a simple staff. He observed it for a second, then looked at Strife again. "Some-one find everyone and meet me back at my house for a funeral procession." he said as he walked away, looking at the staff.
____________________________________________
Some Time Later
Zero as near his house, surrounded by everyone who had been i the fight, and the families if they had them of those lost. Behind him the corpse of those deceased were on piles of wood, and with a swipe of some flint, they were alight. "Even though they may have been lost." Zero continued, being near the end of his eulogy, "They saved countless lives from those horrid monsters." he concluded his speech.
They bodies lit up quickly, and the others could say anything if they wanted too. Zero however, despite the sadness, was transfixed on the summoners staff. There was something about it... Something that made him need to keep it in a safe place to study.
<spoiler=And they all lived happily forever after>Just kidding, the flames go out of control and kill everyone...
Okay, time to be serious, this concludes this arc. Feel free to post something sad about people being dead, people being dead can have there familys, but tomorrow I will start the new time-line.
Hope you enjoyed the first one =D I hope I can post more frequently in this one...
The wooden staff however, did not shatter. Zero looked at it curiously, and went to pick it up. As he touched it, his hand was sent back. He tried again and his hand was again shocked backwards. "Something is odd about this staff..." he said mostly to himself. He Summoned his powers into his palm and grabbed it, this time finding no resistance or anything special other than a simple staff. He observed it for a second, then looked at Strife again. "Some-one find everyone and meet me back at my house for a funeral procession." he said as he walked away, looking at the staff.
____________________________________________
Some Time Later
Zero as near his house, surrounded by everyone who had been i the fight, and the families if they had them of those lost. Behind him the corpse of those deceased were on piles of wood, and with a swipe of some flint, they were alight. "Even though they may have been lost." Zero continued, being near the end of his eulogy, "They saved countless lives from those horrid monsters." he concluded his speech.
They bodies lit up quickly, and the others could say anything if they wanted too. Zero however, despite the sadness, was transfixed on the summoners staff. There was something about it... Something that made him need to keep it in a safe place to study.
<spoiler=And they all lived happily forever after>Just kidding, the flames go out of control and kill everyone...
Okay, time to be serious, this concludes this arc. Feel free to post something sad about people being dead, people being dead can have there familys, but tomorrow I will start the new time-line.
Hope you enjoyed the first one =D I hope I can post more frequently in this one...
Dozens of miles away, a cloaked figure stood overlooking the entrance to a cave. No one had seen the man leave Zero's home, and he figured none would care. That was fine, he thought. He deserved no pity or assistance after his failure. This would be his atonement for the death of his ally.
A pair of guards stood watch at the cave below, their spears held at their sides casually. They were coated in black furs originally from wolves, as were all of the Raiders. They were no great warriors, however, as they put up little resistance when two golden tendrils, thin as razor wire, pressed into their throats and quickly choked them to death.
The wire expanded into rope and lifted the guards up to Ramba, who hid them behind an outcropping of rocks. He would not be relying on stealth for long, but he wanted this battle to be fought on his own terms. He carefully dropped down to the entrance, a golden aura suspending him and slowing his fall. He walked into the dark maw in search of the secrets that were tucked away in its passages. The halls were dark and dripping, creatures he dared not identify creeping in the corners of his vision. He kept his hair hidden, and gave no aura to avoid alerting anyone of his approach. He crept through the halls for nearly an hour before he found what he had been searching for.
He came across a massive room within the cave, appearing to have been mined out extensively from what it originally was. Multiple pillars within the room remained to hold up the ceiling. Over a hundred women and children in rags, his villagers and charges were working on mining the oppressively dark walls. He counted nearly twenty men dressed like the two outside, mere obstacles in his path to the true goal: On the opposite end of the hall was a crudely-fashioned stone throne, adorned with animal pelts and grotesque jewelery. On it sat a creased old man, sour-looking and with a hateful fire in his eyes nearly obscured by his wild gray hair. And next to him stood his best soldier, the bald man, glowering at the slaves around them. But next to them both was the only thing Ramba cared about, a pale and sick-looking woman, in ragged clothes and clutching a blond baby to her breast. Ramba's wife and child were both still alive.
A pair of guards stood watch at the cave below, their spears held at their sides casually. They were coated in black furs originally from wolves, as were all of the Raiders. They were no great warriors, however, as they put up little resistance when two golden tendrils, thin as razor wire, pressed into their throats and quickly choked them to death.
The wire expanded into rope and lifted the guards up to Ramba, who hid them behind an outcropping of rocks. He would not be relying on stealth for long, but he wanted this battle to be fought on his own terms. He carefully dropped down to the entrance, a golden aura suspending him and slowing his fall. He walked into the dark maw in search of the secrets that were tucked away in its passages. The halls were dark and dripping, creatures he dared not identify creeping in the corners of his vision. He kept his hair hidden, and gave no aura to avoid alerting anyone of his approach. He crept through the halls for nearly an hour before he found what he had been searching for.
He came across a massive room within the cave, appearing to have been mined out extensively from what it originally was. Multiple pillars within the room remained to hold up the ceiling. Over a hundred women and children in rags, his villagers and charges were working on mining the oppressively dark walls. He counted nearly twenty men dressed like the two outside, mere obstacles in his path to the true goal: On the opposite end of the hall was a crudely-fashioned stone throne, adorned with animal pelts and grotesque jewelery. On it sat a creased old man, sour-looking and with a hateful fire in his eyes nearly obscured by his wild gray hair. And next to him stood his best soldier, the bald man, glowering at the slaves around them. But next to them both was the only thing Ramba cared about, a pale and sick-looking woman, in ragged clothes and clutching a blond baby to her breast. Ramba's wife and child were both still alive.
To be continued after I get back from Polka Mass, possibly the worst church event to ever be conceived.
A man stood watching the burning pillars, his eyes fixed on the body of one man in particular. Despite the flames already having ignited the body, the man could make out the body of his son clearly. The man wore dark black clothing, and he wore clothing that looked fit to be a kings. A women and a young girl stood behind him, the women's gaze as harsh as the mans although her eyes were a normal blue color, while the man's were dark red with cat-like pupils. The young girl had tears in her bright-red eyes, despite how hard she tried to hold them back as she watched her brother's body go up in flames. The girl turned to her mother and tugged on her dress, "Mommy, why are they burning big brother Strife? He said he'd come back and play with me... Mommy, make them save big brother!"
The mother, turned her head away from the child and a single tear could be seen falling down to the grass below. The man's gaze remained cold as he watched Strife's body slowly turn to ash, and only then did he turn to the girl and reply:
"Strife was a failure and disgrace to our family name. To think we allowed him to run away and go after that silly dream of his... What a pathetic excuse for a Golem, and to think we wasted our time to come down here and see him like this. I'd congratulate the man who killed him if he were anywhere to be found, but it was a fitting way for that failure to die... killed by one who he called ally." Strife's father said with a grimace.
Strife's father turned and began walking back to where a carriage awaited him, ready to send them with all speed back to their village in the North. The women and child followed soon after, and the young girls cries could be heard echoing throughout the hills as their carriage sped away...
The mother, turned her head away from the child and a single tear could be seen falling down to the grass below. The man's gaze remained cold as he watched Strife's body slowly turn to ash, and only then did he turn to the girl and reply:
"Strife was a failure and disgrace to our family name. To think we allowed him to run away and go after that silly dream of his... What a pathetic excuse for a Golem, and to think we wasted our time to come down here and see him like this. I'd congratulate the man who killed him if he were anywhere to be found, but it was a fitting way for that failure to die... killed by one who he called ally." Strife's father said with a grimace.
Strife's father turned and began walking back to where a carriage awaited him, ready to send them with all speed back to their village in the North. The women and child followed soon after, and the young girls cries could be heard echoing throughout the hills as their carriage sped away...