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Thread: The Fire Rises: Attack on Tylmerande

  1. #11
    and this is Jackass!

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    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    Shinsou Vaan Osiris

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    If Storm Veritas had been wondering why Shinsou had placed so much faith in the young Hayate Amatsukami's abilities, the carnage that followed in those blurry seconds would have put paid to such questions.

    Quite simply, the young Akishiman had unleashed hell upon the remainder of the naval garrison. As furniture and weapons flew chaotically about the enclosed space, bones were broken and blood splattered over the ironwork flooring of the port authority's main base of operations, the Brotherhood's latest student cleared enough of a path for Shinsou and Storm to rush into action through Hayate's drag. One of the braver, surviving soldiers tried to anticipate the advancing pair's approach and darted from behind a pillar, military issue sword drawn, hoping to bring his blade to bear against the stomachs of his onrushing opponents. His feet pounded the metal grates underfoot and scattered the splattered gore in splashes all around.

    It was too late. The Telgradian, to Storm's right as they lashed forwards into the murky complex behind Hayate, had already sensed the man's presence and roared into action. Scooping Enpera from the ground with a quiet grunt and guiding it expertly into a powerful upward arc, the nameless soldier's head snapped back violently on contact, only a pitiful whimper escaping his lips. As Shinsou Vaan Osiris and Storm Veritas sprinted past him without a second thought, the soldier crashed to the floor, his long, matted black hair whipping the air about his head. A jagged crevice up the man's chest and neck was all that his courage had earned him.

    Ten meters ahead, to Storm's left, another soldier, this time a stocky female, held her nerve amongst the slaughter and attempted to dive at the electromancer's unprotected neck with a hunting knife. Needing slightly more focus to deal with the threat than Osiris, Storm twisted his lithe and finery swathed body just in time, pivoting on his heel and thrusting a palm towards the blade of the lethal dagger. His fearsome magnetism was more than enough to overpower the woman's control over the weapon and barely a second passed before the knife had turned and plunged deep into her smartly adorned abdomen. A pair of once bright, alert eyes that had gleamed beneath strands of golden blonde hair faded as a spurt of crimson stained her pristine blue uniform. Their last moments saw Storm Veritas's stern visage snarling back at them, the electromancer's creased face smattered with splashes of blood from the force of the brutal attack. The dying woman, carried by her own momentum, rolled carelessly over a fallen table, behind which some of Hayate's victims had clumped; a crimson pool forming below the face-down corpses.

    "More coming!" Yelled the Telgradian to Hayate ahead, and Storm to his left, as he sensed a dense cluster of life forces converging on their route out of the base. He knew that the hellacious racket and screams of the dying would have alerted every remaining soldier in the building, and now the only plan was to go route one. The garrison could be heard long before they came into sight. Their quick footsteps stomped heavily on the metal that blanketed every uneven surface in the base, the crunches of their booted feet upon the oily iron and the pounding of their breath upon the air the only signs of their existence. To the un-trained ear, it was as if the patter of raindrops had reached Tylmerande. To those present, it was the coming of death’s agents.

    Shinsou clung to the hilt of his sword tighter as the noises grew closer and closer. Knowing that their exit was cut off, and slowing their run, collectively, the trio patiently waited for the first attacks to come. This section of the base was the forwardmost part, the bulkhead before the entrance, but had a berth wide enough to accommodate an influx of soliders a hundred strong from two corridors either side. The light was poor and the growing number of audible steps, mixed with the rattling of arms, and above it all the tell-tale grunting as dozens of men flanked the trio told the Telgradian that they were badly outnumbered. Before Shinsou had even had a chance to respond, they were in view; the remainder of the men in the base appearing in perfect double rank formation. The lines of blue uniforms, their curved, polished sabres unsheathed, waited.

    Suddenly, the sound of a bowstring snapping panged through the air, and from an unseen part of the room a crossbow bolt thundered through the air and struck the Telgradian in his left shoulder. Shinsou recoiled immediately, face grimacing in agony as the iron missle carved though flesh and sinew, the head lodging itself near his collarbone. Through watering eyes, Osiris could now see the maddened eyes of the soldiers that advanced towards him, snorting and hissing clouds of white vapour.

    “Storm, Hayate, get down!” Shinsou seethed, almost screaming.

    Whatever Hayate, Storm or the soldiers had yelled in response was lost in the chaos.

    Behind the bleeding Shinsou, a few feet above the crest of his oaken hair, powerful arcane energies began to meld together in the ambient light of the base internals. Crashing tendrils of black and purple convulsed and converged around each other to form a portal of black and purple energy that stretched almost the entire breadth of the room. The sheer corrosive force of the dark magic chewed into the grimy brickwork either side of the Telgradian, opening up a massive semi-circle into each of the walls flanking him that left a whistling expanse of space where solid stone used to be.

    Storm Veritas, now familiar with the workings of Shinsou Vaan Osiris's dark magic, had witnessed the beginnings of Enpera Kurohitsugi before - but his expression instantly told that something was different. He had seen nothing from Shinsou on this scale before. The violence of the electrical activity, the throbbing of energy and the heat radiating from the spell was simply ravaging, full of anger and almost feral. Out of the black chasm that gaped behind him, protruding from the wall of marbled purple and jet, were almost countless lances of dark matter, a number far superior to what Veritas thought capable of his Telgradian counterpart. Shinsou’s mind raced. He tried to calculate through the pain the trajectories for killing his targets, consisting of about forty men. It would not be an easy feat, of that he was sure. But whatever the method, he had to do it now.

    Without even having to motion, Shinsou commanded the hellstorm of lances forwards. They shot out of the portal and wildly tore towards their intended recipients, forks of blue and purple electricity ripping at the masonry, pipes and iron around them and scorching everything confined within as they travelled. Through the electric trail of his powerful volley, Shinsou gave the base's final stand an incredulous stare.



    Emerging from the concrete maw of the slaughtered naval garrison, a visibly perturbed Telgradian, flanked by the electromancer and his own understudy, made their way on foot back towards the centre of a now militarily deprived Tylmerande, where their horses had been left. The crossbow bolt had been removed from his shoulder, and Storm had graciously cauterized the wound using some of his most tame magic, but even a heavily controlled portion of his friend's ability had felt as if he had been stung by a Fallien scorpion.

    The quiet of the sun drenched townscape seemed completely at odds with the events of the last thirty minutes, given that they had just committed a small scale genocide at the port, although it would have been difficult for the townspeople to have heard much from within those thick concrete walls. The good news for the trio was that the threat of the other half of the garrison returning anytime soon was nil, given the interception distance from the phoney orders.

    "At worst," The Telgradian panted, rubbing his shoulder, "We have two days before-"

    Suddenly, a tingling sensation erupted within the pit of his stomach. It was then, as the sensation settled, that the swordsman felt it; a power that felt like a sudden burst of light amongst a gigantic sheet of seething icy shadow. It was faint at first, barely even registering in his gut, but became heavier quickly, as if approaching him at speed. Shinsou had felt that same power not too long ago.


    As suddenly as the first power had, a second energy manifested within the range of Shinsou’s senses. This one he recognised instantly as it clashed against the first. It was bathed in electric red and felt as if a kiln of burning energy had overturned inside him. It wasn't human, but it was unmistakeable, and far more intense than he had ever remembered.

    Veridian...Vaeron and Veridian. If you two are here, where is...

    Everything was fuzzy around the edges. The amount of energy he had expended on his Enpera Kurohitsugi hadn't done him much good, but now something else crept up on the wily Telgradian. Images of her. Earlier, he had instructed both the men in his presence to be prepared for the inevitable kickback of their conquests; the time when their friends would take a stand against these perceived slights. But, ironically, not once had Shinsou considered the impact that all of this would have on his relationship with Philomel van der Aart, his closest friend, his lover; the one woman he...

    As the two energies grew closer to him to the point of being on top of him, Shinsou steeled himself and prepared to face the consequences of what he wrought.

    If you two are here, it can only be at her direction. If she has sent you here, then...
    Last edited by Shinsou Vaan Osiris; 09-26-2018 at 06:18 AM.

  2. #12
    Super Moderator

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    Philomel's Avatar

    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
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    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Female (+ Male)

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    Reaching the gate to the city was by no means an easy task. The scourge that was the Brotherhood army, encamped upon the hill and upon the great expanse east of Tylmerande meant that the path was not clear. With just the lonesome group of themselves, aiming to confront Shinsou vaan Osiris and his cronies peacefully, they needed to attempt to get through the gates but without causing disturbance. The question became clear in their mind - why would a group of individuals be riding into a city under siege? They would be noticed, assailed upon and questioned.

    Nine warrior women, a human mage and a humanoid fox were not enough to contend with a army that was at least a thousand strong. Even coming from the narrower areas where the Brotherhood was not - for instance via the forest where it barely grazed the city - all of it took careful planning. In the end they opted for the choice of swinging by the west, and following the shadow of the wall. Five of the Lily warriors remained in key positions upon the outside to continue to relay information back to the main army, who would by now be gathering together just behind the hill they had originally ascended from. They would be the emergency in case of dire need; able to abseil a tower or two and rescue Vaeron, Veridian and company, if the time needed.

    Thus, as as smaller group originally planned, they entered by the dreary commoners gate, which lay by the river, aka the sewer. Few considered it even a gate apparently, for there was hardly a road left, only mud. Quietly they managed to open the door, by way of one of the Lily warriors an expert lock-pick and began to squeeze within. It was only at this point when the sound of rapid hooves could be heard from behind them.

    Vaeron, who was halfway through the gate, swung his mighty war steed Megladon around, and yanked out his glorious indigo dagger. It glistened in the moonlight, and was joined shortly by five other blades singing. Horses reared and snorted, and fear lay in eyes for this sudden disturbance; however, the group would stand their ground until death. No matter what was coming, even if it were to be the entire Brotherhood army, they would fight to the last, with Philomel van der Aart's name whispered on their dying lips.


    A rider came zooming around the side of the city walls - then immediately cursed. A lone being, a huge woman dressed in heavy steel armour, swathed in a rich black cloak. It matched the coming dusk that they were under, with the shadows thick and heavy. The cloak itself seemed old bulged at her back. Tall and strong as she was brilliant, she rode a horse almost as big as Vaeron's. Pulling her horse to a halt she stared wildly at the warriors ready to die, and yanked back her hood, releasing a mane of fair hair and a face as gruff and irritated as the night is long.

    An instant sigh of relief fell over the group. An awkward hand rose from the mighty woman. "I am not here to kill you."

    "What are you doing here, Maverick?" Vaeron hissed, lowering his bow. His eyes were like condemning daggers. "You were supposed to be at the rear guard, seeing everyone off the ship."

    "Everyone is off the ship, old man," Maverick said, eyeing him.

    She nodded to her fellow warriors, some of whom bent their heads in respect and murmured, "General."

    He shook his head. "Well why come here now. We are about to go meet with the villain and persuade him to do give up this coup."

    Maverick nodded, looking less amused. "Yes. I heard, hence why I am here. You are an idiot if you think this is going to work. A Coronian navy ship just began to leave the harbour. This is much more of a situation than we think. You go in there and you will die."

    "We cannot fight them with what we have," he growled, "this is currently the only way. We saw them go up to the town hall and we will face them there, alone and-"

    "Town hall?" Maverick looked confused. "No, they are at the navy base now."

    The man paused, his top lip curling. The others in the group seemed to recoil at the tension building from this contestation of wills and authority. The general of the army versus the de-facto second in command of the Gilded Lily entire. Vaeron glared at Maverick for a moment, finding no good reason why she would lie.

    "Fine," he shrugged, "We will go to the navy base."

    She shook her head in disbelief. "You are an idiot, old man! Why would vaan Osiris listen to you?"

    "Might listen to me," grunted a lower voice.

    Both of them looked over to see the bored, foxy face of Veridian blinking at them with golden eyes. In his hand he still held the sword known as the Rabbit. He shrugged. "Is true. He knows me."

    "As a fox. Not as ..." Maverick waved a hand up and down at him, "That."

    Veridian began to growl, his beastly side becoming apparent. "Fine enough shape."

    "Uh huh," Maverick raised a brow. "How long have you trained with a sword?"

    "Seen Philomel beloved enough. Share soul, you are idiot."

    "'Seeing' the matriarch fight is not the same as 'training,' fox. You are-"

    There came a sudden gasp from someone. All arguing ceased as the odd lump behind Maverick suddenly moved. One warrior lifted her hand and pointed it out as Maverick's face fell to horror and then she cringed. Turning her head she saw as the thing she had been trying to hide poked her head out of the shroud of material, blinked sleepily into the dusk and smiled.

    "Hello everyone," Celandine said, waving.

    There was a long, ugly pause. Eyes stared at the young princess, Philomel's heir and daughter sitting there on the back of a huge warhorse, right in the centre of a war zone. Celandine's eyes moved across the group, until she alighted of those on Vaeron and Veridian and she grinned. "Hello father, hello fox."

    "What. The. Idiot! You brought her here?!" Vaeron shrieked.

    "Shhh, you will wake the whole city," Maverick scowled back. "And it is not my fault. She stowed away on the ship. I couldn't exactly leave her there could I, by herself? By the time I heard about your ridiculous plan I had no other choice really, than to keep her with me, and come right here. I won't risk anyone else taking her."

    "The Princess will kill you!" Vaeron thrust an accusing finger in her direction.

    "She is safe with me," Maverick puffed out her chest proudly. "Now, let's all leave this place now and-"

    "We are sticking with our plan," Vaeron said sourly, pulling his horse around.

    The argument went on, with Maverick going back into the same reasons why it was a stupid idea. Veridian, as he watched them, finding that he preferred being a listener, rather than a partaker, paused, as his golden eyes moved to Celandine. There she sat, the small faun so innocent and perfect, a picture of glory for all to see. She was these people's rue princess, the heir to the Gilded Lily empire, and an incredibly fast learner. Although she was just five she held herself as a ten year old, strong, fast and able with a sure personality. Smiling, she watched the people in her life shouting whilst they were all supposed to be sneaking into a city. Veridian knew it was likely that their cover was blown, and he began to think of what Celandine would do in this situation. She was all charm and cuteness, and could hold her own considerably in a fight for one so young. But what if it never came to a fight? Certainly the small hoofed princess had always preferred diplomacy to war craft, taking to her history and philosophy lessons far easier than her sword play. She had asked for a weapon of her own for a while, yes, but that was mainly because her birth father and mother were warriors, and she wanted to so much be like them. Adorable as she was bright, she was grinning now in the face of all this danger, and it suddenly struck the fox-form earth-spirit that in fact maybe their answer to gaining entrance into the city was in front of them all along.

    "Drys ..."

    He yanked on the reigns of his musk oxen-like beast tera'k, driving it forwards. One horse had to shy out of the way for him, and he gained an odd glance from Vaeron, but that was all. The man continued to shout at the general. Quietly Veridian brought his animal up beside Maverick, who barely flinched at his approach. He grinned a pointy-toothed smile as he leaned towards Celandine and whispered.

    "You want to help ?" he asked.

    Celandine paused, then nodded. "Why I stoled away on the ship," she said quietly.

    He gave her a sly wink. "Then I help. Come," and he subtly gestured to her. The young faun glanced upwards to Maverick, then frowned a little, before looking back to Veridian and his steed. She did like tera'k, she used to have one herself before he died, saving her life.

    "What do?"

    And, grinning, he moved down to whisper in her ear.

    A slow smiled spread across Celandine's face. Her eyes looked to everyone, distracted by the argument that had people with their heads in their hands, sighing, Maverick and Vearon gesticulating wildly at each other, and the wide door of the city open so generously ...

    Seconds passed. Slowly, she nodded, and Veridian rose, shifting in his saddle. He made to take his tera'k for an idle wander, causing the hairy and fat bovine to take a few steps forwards, then circle around. Gradually he came back towards Maverick, humming a little, as if entirely distracted. The tera'k came right up by Maverik's steed, and as it did Celandine let her hand trail into the soft fur. She grinned a little, happy to be with such a creature again, and her eyes rose to meet Veridian's. They smiled together, mischievousness within them before -

    She moved. Fast. Jumping right from the the horse to the tera'k. At the same time Veridian slapped the behind of his mount and suddenly they were lunging forwards.

    Both of them laughed, loud and clear, as the animal ran for its life in the place it was directed. In through the gate, galloping wild and free. Right into the city.

    The fox and faun ran, ran for their lives as people began to freak out. Vaeron shouted, turned Megladon in a gasp as Veridian kept going. Oh yes, the warrior mage and the general followed, naturally, in a way that was not subtle in the way designed previously; but then, they had been arguing loudly. So very loudly, that Veridian would not be surprised if the entire city was now awake.

    He let the chase go on, alerting the city and the Brotherhood, distracting the world. He heard the sounds of battle and headed towards it, drawing his sword as he did and grinning. No contact with Philomel, nothing of that sort, just straight forwards until he saw the naval base before him. He held up his head.

    "I demand an audience with the one called Shinsou vaan Osiris," he crooned at the top of his excited lungs, his voice a howl and a yowl and a bark. "Tell him to come out and face us. We are here for diplomatic discussions!"

    Maverick and Vaeron and the others soon caught up with him as they watched the terror of the naval base occur, people fleeing for their lives, explosions and magical lights aplenty from within. But Veridian had broken all their subtly now, or had they ruined that themselves? It did not matter, for here they were now, demanding a direct audience.
    Last edited by Philomel; 09-30-2018 at 10:14 AM.
    Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and of its brothels, associated establishments and the army.

    The family triplet: Philomel, Vaeron and Celandine.
    The god and kenku triplet: Stare, Avin and Vixen.

  3. #13
    Ride The Lightning

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    Level completed: 42%,
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    Storm Veritas's Avatar

    Storm Veritas
    The entire battle came and went in a massive wave; the momentum of the Brotherhood finally overwhelming the forces of Tylermande. In spite of the large numbers coming through in at the trio, Storm, Shinsou and Hayate were brazen, brutal, and effective. The waves of men were initially cut through, and Shinsou’s fantastic assault stopped the largest throng with his savage dark pulse attack, also festering with electricity.

    When the smoke cleared from the massive blast, Storm eyed the warzone, dashing back and forth with terrible little leaps, driving daggers under the chins of downed and dying enemies in the echo of chaos. There was no reason to let them suffer further; these were brave strangers that would have made fine pawns for him in another lifetime. Worse, if not finished some would likely recover to some degree, with a flourish for the dramatic and some damned fool idea to attack the trio.

    As smoke rose in a great chimney from the space where the battle had erupted, the inroads of Brotherhood soldiers arrived, slashing and cleaning and killing on cue. Looking at Hayate and Shinsou aiding in the finalization of the first wave of Tylermandians, a pang of jealousy tore at Storm. Shinsou had incorporated a new element into the fray, or so it seemed.

    Electricity?! Trying to work my f*cking corner, Shin? And when does the power end?

    Vaan Osiris was a great warrior and better friend, but the prideful Veritas couldn’t help but sneer at the notion that another special had more raw power. To direct such energy along an electrical impulse seemed an almost direct line to show how utterly replaceable the aging wizard had become.

    Covered in rock dust, the three warriors cleared their brows as they marched up from the cinder stones, only a bolt in Shinsou and sweat lines about the necks, arms, and chests of the men proving the trio’s humanity. As the Telgradian explained his theory of low time, he was taken by a vision that distracted him distinctly. As Shinsou seemed to stare off into the sea towards Raiera, the elder wizard noticed a small band of horse-backed idiots barking orders at them.

    These assholes have -got- to be shitting me.

    No sooner than one of them had mentioned “diplomatic discussions” did Storm unseat the first damned fool by the very essence of her metal armor. Hoisting the armor high above the beautiful auburn steed with merely the raise of his hand, Veritas scowled and closed his fingers slightly, crushing the armor gently around the chest of the woman he’d later learn to call “Maverick”. The once bold eyes of the rider grew wild, shocked, and completely unaware. It seemed preposterous that people would attack any group including Storm Veritas with metal armor; the electromancer aimed to reprove his worth with a show of strength.

    “I’m not sure you and yours are in a position to demand a gods-damned thing! Lions don’t concern themselves with the affairs of sheep; I’m not sure if you’ve noticed the blood-stained wool about you.” Storm’s voice boomed with sinister intent and anger.

    “Storm – let her go.” Shinsou the eternal killer of fun beckoned him with resignation. Whatever the vision had been which captured the full attention of Vaan Osiris had either left him or granted him vision with this; the confidence and knowledge behind his friends voice was ultimately not to be doubted.

    Still sneering, Storm turned his eyes from the gasping imbecile to Shinsou, still holding his dusted arm lightly in the air with frustration. Opening his hand with a flick, he released his hold, allowing Maverick to crash to the earth in a heap, likely spraining an ankle in the process. Despite the inevitable pain, there was relief, as the metal about his torso stress-relieved, a tinging sound as it tinged back into its normal shape and ceasing the slow strangle.

    “These assholes friends of yours? A little late for litigation, no!?” Storm was tired, frustrated, and was generally wont to believe diplomacy was for people not risking their lives in combat. To the victors go the spoils was more his ideology in matters of battle. That there were only ten or so travelers in the small pack seemed like stilted odds, as though another shoe remained to drop.

    Shinsou returned his look with a bit of fear. His eyes shot about the field, looking for an unseen enemy. The lack of relaxation given the situation lended serious cause for concern in Storm. “No…” his voice trailed as he continued to scan about. “More friends of a friend.”

    Something was coming, and Storm had missed it.
    Last edited by Storm Veritas; 10-16-2018 at 09:42 AM.

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