Geology [Featured Battle]

[Hysteria]

Closed to The Coralian Outcast, Logan, black shadow and Fox Owen Xavier (for now). Please refer to this thread to register and this thread for general talk.

The carts cracked and groaned as they cut a slow tract across the country side. Four in all, the carts carried a mixture of fighters, weapons and goods. The group was mostly a policing force, given some goods in order to lure out whatever nefarious force sought to disrupt the trade route. So far the trip had been quiet. The forests sung a lazy tune as wind rustled through their leaves, and fields danced with rippling gold as stalks of wheat swayed in tune.

Two hours had passed and the carts continued their steady pace pulled forward by teams of two and three donkeys. The road cut through the country side, on one side the dancing gold, the other the singing green and above the sky of blue. The odd bird had followed the carts when the journey had begun in hopes of catching the odd discarded piece of food. For the last ten minutes however they had disappeared. The air seemed colder, the trees song somehow mournful and the wheat a funeral dance.

Jacob, the self appointed leader of this group of force stood up from his position at the front of the carts. His long blonde hair caught the wind, joining the wheat in a golden dance. His breastplate was a bright shine, polished to perfection and his blue eyes scanned the forest for any signs of danger. He turned from his seat and looked back across the caravans. People were restless, but maintained a certain level of stoicism, at least most did. Some of them seemed completely unware of the danger that lay around every corner. People were sitting on the goods they were transporting in the full carts, while other sat in empty ones fiddling with their gear.

“Call out any movement!” Called Jacob, turning back towards the road and placing a hand on his driver’s shoulder, “Don’t worry yourself Jeane, we are more than a match for anything in these forests short of the Corone Rangers!”

Jeane, a small man dressed in simple leather smiled weakly and flicked the reins to urge the donkeys forward.

[Logan]

Somehow Logan had emerged from the Red Forest and Lindequalme alive and in tact, and more importantly, with Max Dirks still alive. After all they'd seen and did together, that mission was easily the most difficult and trying. In an attempt to forego adventure for a little bit, the psion took leave of his criminal comrade and found a tiny band of mercenaries and guardsmen setting out to patrol the trade routes just south of Radasanth. Inwardly, he hoped for some respite from the chaos Pode and her minions unleashed upon him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't remain anonymous by simply joining up as himself, so he took to the next best option. The day before the little troop was set to leave, the psion drugged one of the guardsmen and took his place. The armor didn't fit quite perfectly, and the helm was a bit much to adjust to, but at least he wasn't distinguishable from the other rank and file.

The psion adjusted his newly acquired set of armor in a half-hearted attempt to find whatever minimal comfort he could. The patrol was supposed to last a few days at most, and he figured the time away from everything -- thoughts of Pode, her minions and army, Dirks, but most importantly Lily -- would be good for his mind. It wasn't every day you watch as your love takes her final breaths, and he hadn't taken it particularly well. Even if what he saw was merely Pode's illusions at work.

As Jacob barked out orders, Logan followed in line. He had been "assigned" to one of the carts, and took his place atop the merchandise. He tried to focus his energies on the various whispers and conversations around him. Someone mentioned the patrol might be an attempt to lure out some bandits, and the psion sighed. If bandits were the worst they'd come across, he would be just fine.

Logan laid back atop the cart as he scanned the sky above. Something didn't feel all that right about just how clean and blue it appeared, but he shrugged it off. Emerging from the Lindequalme left him a bit jumpy and overly attentive to minute details which held no real bearing on reality. Pode had that effect on people, he surmised. His hand reached up and closed the lid to his helm, giving himself a moment's reprieve as he drifted off into a very light slumber.

[black shadow]

Black Shadow stood within his caravan, bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. His senses could not have been higher. The slightest tap of a rock against the wheels was like a boulder smashing against a mountain to him. The sky, a dull grey to others, was filled with light. Something was coming, and soon, Black Shadow could just feel it.

Others had fallen asleep or become comfortable with this trip, but not Black Shadow. This was a mission. Find whatever was disrupting the caravans and kill it, plain as that, and you never know when the creature would reveal itself. There would be no time to lose when the monster showed itself, those who were asleep would surely die, and those that were unprepared would never survive to the beasts death. It was a shame.

A noise filled Black Shadow's ears and he could feel the earth shake slightly beneath his feet. It is near. He thought to himself, notching his arrow. A gentle breeze blew across his face bringing another sign of the creature to come... the scent. Shadow had not experienced this before, whatever was ahead of them was close. The battle would no longer be to defeat the horrible monster, and Black Shadow knew this, the battle would be fought for survival. Men would die today, and it was Shadow's goal to keep as many alive as possible.

[The Coralian Outcast]

Year 3 Day 245

I have herd that dady had helpt fite and kil a sik dragon. I want to help peepl. I herd som gards wer going owt to find the case of a "disrupshin in the trade." So tonight I will sneek into a wagon and go for the ride. Thanks dady for the sword lesons. At least you did something rite.

Alexander Relt Larsh stayed as still as possible. It was surprisingly easy for the four year old to slip into a wagon. Then again, his height would have made anyone think he was an adult human. However, the fact was that his mentality was that a human's ten year old while his physique was that of a fit early teen. Not that you could tell the child's physique with that dark blue robe that covered him head to toe. This was probably why it was so easy to sneak on board the wagon. They probably wanted as many able bodied people as possible and a hooded stranger usually was good in combat.

So here Alex was, in a cart as his survival instincts warned him about a great danger ahead. Can't tell when we'll be attacked but it's soon, Alex thought as the cart continued it trek toward the greatest danger he had ever felt. Really soon. Man I shouldn't be here, but I really want to help. Let's hope my swordsmanship is enough. So the wagons continued onward, unaware of the danger ahead.

[Fox Owen Xavier]

“One man’s lost is another man’s gain,” Fox thought as he reflected on the letter and mission he was currently on. “What happened to the simple naive world of good and bad, black and white, peaceful merchants and evil villains? Instead, you have many shades of grey. People guarding caverns for their own personal wealth, bandits stealing for their family’s survival, or someone like me who is just here as an agent to gather information for other powers. Powers which may or may not desire the success of this trek…”

“John, you've been around awhile, what is your opinion? Will this be a walk in the park like our high spirited golden leader thinks? Or will the ground be painted crimson with our blood?” Foxed asked as he cracked the whip over the misbehaving donkeys.

“This whole thing reeks of trouble if you ask me. The fact the job posting never specified what the threat was and the lack of battle harden mercenaries for our side. Between you and me, I think that one of the supplies is backstabbing his buyers and taking all the loot for himself,” his fellow agent wheezed back the best that the old wound on his throat would allow.

“Interesting idea, but guess we’ll have to hold that thought since I smell something wrong ahead,” the kitsune cut off further communication as his fox like nose sensed something strange in the gust of wind. Instead of putting the rest of the cavern on yet another false alert like some of the paranoid men, Fox waited to hopefully better grasp the situation before making the call.

[Logan]

After some time had passed the psion woke to the gentle rock of the cart as it rolled over small pebbles and stones. Of course, a gentle rock of the cart meant stabbing pain into his back and sides from the small pile of weapons beneath him. Steel and iron swords, daggers, axes, and even crossbow bolts lined the floor of the cart. He reached around to his back in an attempt to move the metal points from piercing into his exposed flesh, but instead quickly realized the guardsman's armor he wore tremendously restricted his mobility and movement.

Shit, he thought to himself. As methodically as he could manage, the psion rose into a seated position, and reached beneath his posterior to rearrange the weapons to provide as much comfort as possible given the circumstances. It was then he noticed the sky and surroundings had undergone a transformation while he slumbered.

Gone were the blue of the sky, amber of the wheat, and the green of the treeline; all replaced by somber and sullen hues of gray. The change prompted a subtle shift in the psion's focus and attention. The drowsiness and grogginess were replaced by alertness and readiness. His senses tuned in more keenly, prepared for whatever may come their way. He glanced about, and took an inventory of the rank and file.

The self-assigned leader of the small band of men and creatures was, at least in Logan's opinion, a pompous ass. Jacob projected confidence, and also arrogance. The shine of his armor suggested he cared more for his appearance than he did for his troops. After all, wouldn't a truly heroic leader's armor show the signs of battle? The way his hair flowed suggested he most likely never tussled with foes near enough to death to take advantage. The way he called to his inferiors wreaked of organized training as a commander, but far less experience as a leader. He wanted to be respected as the commander, but the way he went about it just didn't sit right with the psion.

Perhaps he was wrong, but Logan made the note to keep an eye on Jacob. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the scent of day old tuna coming from the birds swooping around the carts.

[black shadow]

Not one living creature could be seen at this point. The only sound that reached Black Shadow's ears was the sound of what was to come. With every second it grew, louder and yet louder. It would not be long before the caravans reached their target.

All scenery seemed to become dull. The light breeze stopped and most, if not all plans life began to die in this area. The sky quickly became cloudy, covering the warm rays of the sun. The smells of the grasses and flowers throughout the countryside turned to that of dust and death.

Most of the men were now awake, taking note of the sudden changes. Many sharpened their swords while others put on their armor. Then there were the few who did not take these signes seriously.

"Dude, put your bow down, we will be fine," Black Shadow heard the man who rode in the same caravan as himself. Black Shadow just ignored him. you can never be too ready, just unprepared. he thought to himself, trying to loosen his shoulders.

[Hysteria]

A cracking sound. It was like the limb of a tree being caught and pulled apart. It was a cracking, tearing crunch that ripped through the air. The carts vibrated, the ground vibrated and even the air vibrated. A line ripped across the ground in the forest to the row of cart’s right. For a moment silence descended on the forest, carts and field, save for a few fevered shouts. The next moment the forest lifted into the sky as a creature pushed up from under the ground.

Two large emeralds eyes emerged from the ground, for a moment eye level with the mercanries. Dirt rained in front of it, cascading of the creature’s scaled skin. A short, sharp jaw followed, with lines of ivory teeth set into the jawline. The head lifted up and over the carts, rising a solid hundred metres into the air as two powerful front legs pushed the massive body upwards. The creature was wearing a large swathe of the forest like a cloak, unnerved by the tones of dirt and trees now acting like a pincushion across its back.

Only half of the dragon’s body had been revealed from the earth with the rest still buried. The creature’s height was several times the size of the carts, and covered nearly completely in thick green scales. Its bent, short snout turned towards the carts, and its large front facing eyes peered down.

“Prepare the weapons!” cried Jacob, lifting his sword towards the dragon, “prepare to-“

A burst of green engulfed the first cart. The breath was not quite fire, not quite liquid. It moved across all the surfaces it touched and hardened. Jacob’s surprised looking face was cast in clear, slightly green tinged, crystal. He would have fallen from his spot on the cart if the crystal hadn’t fastened him tight.

Jeane peeked around the side of the cart and past the frozen Jacob. He had twisted off his seat and taken cover the moment the dragon had appeared. Others in the cart, some with limbs covered in the strange crystal clambered out of it. The donkeys leading the cart had been frozen in place, the two on the dragon’s side completely, while the other two only partially covered bleeted with fear. Jeane pulled a hammer off the side of the cart normally used for hammering in the wheels and brought it down on the closest frozen donkey. The crystalline substance shattered, but the next hit found more resistance as it quickly hardened.

“Take cover!” “Smash the glass!” “Ready the ballista!” “Flee!”

The shouts from the mercenaries rose in confusion as they panicked. Some of the carts pulled out their cargo, revealing Alerar ballista, while others started to run. The dragon turned its face towards those fleeing and roared. This time his breath wasn’t a gas. Shards of his crystalline breath ripped through the air and rained death on the few mercenaries that had decided on running.

Perceptive, unpanicked watchers would have noticed the leather that was tied around the dragon’s neck. It seemed to form two large belts, each one attaching something larger on the outside of the neck and partially hidden behind the large scaled jaw. More obvious than the odd collar was the fact that the dragon lacked wings. Even with the earthen coat it seemed that this wasn’t a flying beast.

[The Coralian Outcast]

Alex's survival instincts told him to get out of the area as quickly as he could. However, his need to prove himself and to help others forced him to stay. He did however stand and got ready to attack. However, when the dragon appeared and attacked the first wagon he froze.

A dragon! The first thing I ever actually fight is a dragon! Then again, he should of saw it coming. These big events usually had to deal with a dragon. So with a shake of his head he looked at the dragon and tried to figure out what to do. His iron sword wasn't likely to be able to pierce that hide. Plus the fact that this dragon probably had a ton of experience in a fight put him on the disadvantage. The only advantage that Alex really knew he had was his survival instincts which would tell him when an attack was about to happen. Thank you Coralian instincts.

So Alex got ready to dodge every attack and hopefully distract this vile beast long enough to let the others kill it. Because really, what else is there he could do. So with a sigh of resignation he jumped off the cart and moved over far enough to keep the beast from crystallizing the carts then did something anyone would think was stupid. He picked up a rock then through it at the creature with the hope that the rock would hit the eye so that the creature would focus on him. His instincts blared at him to get out of there, to just run, but Alex stood his ground and readied himself to dodge or die.

[Logan]

The psion had to chuckle a little at the emergence of the enormous creature. Logan's whole purpose for joining up with the band of men and creatures was to relax a bit under the guise of a leisurely patrol along the trade routes. Instead, he was thrust into what would most likely be a massive melee between the way too underpowered group and their target, a dragon; not just any dragon, either.

In hushed whispers throughout Radasanth and Concordia were mentions of a magical beast without flight, but with plenty of fight. It was said the beast could stick a man dead in his tracks by encasing him in a crystal-like substance. The psion never really gave the rumors much thought. After all, how many dragons existed throughout the entirety of Althanas' history, and furthermore, how many could elude the Rangers, Ixian Knights, or any of the other countless guilds, clans and power groups?

There was no denying, of course, once the dragon was before him in all of its gigantic scaly flesh. The creature, at the very least, existed, and it seemed less than pleased with the small band's encroachment upon its territory.

Logan shifted inside the cart as it toppled and spilled to the side, away from the dragon's initial attack. He was thankful for the dragon's unintentional earthquake beneath the carts as it gave him perfect cover from the first assault. He peered over the side of the cart, which was now the top, and glanced about the battlefield. Ballistas, which had been hidden beneath cloth or other myriad of merchandise, were readied. The psion cursed himself for not paying more attention to the actual merchandise.

His hands reflexively reached down for his short swords and touched only the sides of his pants. "Shit," he remembered he left them behind because the shoddy, piecemeal armor didn't allow for them. The psion glanced at the cart and then the small cache of weapons beneath him. Perhaps the gods were smiling upon him for a change.

Logan reached down to snag the crossbow and a few bolts, but as he did the armor clanged against the side of the cart. Or maybe the gods weren't.

He silently cursed again under his breath, "Bloody hell." As quickly as he could manage, he slid from the armor just as the cracking sound of crystalline filled his ears. The psion reached down again for the crossbow, collecting the few bolts and slid them into his pockets.

With a deep breath for focus and control, he looked around the side of the fallen cart. The dragon was focused intently upon the cowards of the group, leaving Logan to do his best work. He took off at a full sprint, but before he could even make it a few yards from the transport, a young boy-creature thing threw a rock at the dragon drawing its focus and attention. There wouldn't be much of a window, but he took the chance anyways.

The dragon reared back and roared out into the forest a screeching sound, shaking not just the earth below, but the trees and everything within them, too. Flocks of birds amassed from the treeline, escaping into the great abyss above. The large creature centered its focus on the small boy, letting forth another assault of the oozing substance.

Lowering his head, Logan slammed into the small boy and turned into a roll past the first cart and the crystalline statue of Jacob. The ooze followed behind the two of them as the dragon's focus remained on the two rolling 'heroes'. The psion's only hope was someone, anyone, distracting the dragon.