Vae Victis ((Closed))

[Cyrus the virus]

((Thanks to the merman person for the quote. "Woe to the vanquished", eh? Closed to anyone who I said could join :p))

The city of Allendar burned brightly in the night, tongues of flame grasping the blackness above and smoke blocking out the stars. Screams echoed above all else as the Slivaric cavalry stormed into the city, routing townspeople who were too slow to get back to their homes. Soon the rapid thumping of horse's feet was all about, and no crevice or alley was safe from the attack.

Luc Kraus had seen the flames as they'd first appeared, when a red flash of light painted the sky all around. The mage couldn't ignore such powerful magic, despite how much he just wanted to get back to Radasanth. The hero in him needed to help, sure, but it was the wizard within that pulled him relentlessly forward. Soaring on a disc made of earth, Luc squinted to try and get a sense of what exactly had happened.

Within the town, a fully armored man straddled a horse unlike any other, a Nightmare: a mount made of blackfire and as fast as the wind itself. Wisps of grey smoke drifted from its nostrils at all times, as it had no need to breathe. The man was covered in ridged black armor, spiked at every joint. His head was completely cast in darkness by his helmet, a skull-shaped obsidian design, complete with clear glass over the eye slots -- glass that was very, very durable.

Those green, remorseless eyes examined the town, saw the fires and knew it was good. Sliviar's General Drok couldn't have been more pleased with the work his cavalry was doing, but he wanted a little action as well. Slowly he unsheathed the sword on his back, a black hilted broadsword that glowed with a pale yellow light. Runes decorated the length of the black, runes that held great power.

Meanwhile, Luc leapt from his floating disc, which continued along to knock a soldier from his horse, and landed on the pebbled ground that led to the city square. Whatever the city's crime, whatever the reason for the attack, Luc knew that innocents were being slaughtered. As much as he hated being the 'good guy', the events were simply too radical to be ignored.

He lifted his hands to the sky, summoning water from a nearby basin and beckoning it to rise. He extended the water, to make a 'blanket' of it, and then doused the flames of a nearby house. The fire went out, but the roof collapsed from the weight of the water, bringing a curse from Luc's lips. "This is hopeless," he muttered in addition.

To his right, a soldier on his horse came at him, a spear held down to connect right with Luc's chest. Too many ideas ran through his head, too many ways to avoid or react. He cast Stoneskin upon himself, a spell that absorbed three attacks before disappearing, and was hit dead-on with the weapon. His body flew back from the impact, but the enchantment held and left him unharmed.

With grit teeth, Luc raised a hand and cast it down, bringing a hail of wind arrows down upon the soldier. Most bounced off of the man's armor, but his horse was nowhere near as well protected. The creature bucked and neighed as arrows pelted it, and the constant panic from the horse brought the soldier crashing over it into the hard ground. Luc acted quickly, melting the ground into mud and then re-hardening it, fusing the soldier there.

"Too much activity, I need to get a better view," he said, but when he looked up he realized that the smoke would hinder his flight and vision, not to mention his breathing.

"Hopeless!" He repeated, but that didn't stop him from running down the road to the city square.

[Linger]

Gliding freely through the darkest of night, Adam had been running away from a small group of pedestrians for a while now. Having pulled a few minor pranks on them, they didn’t seem to be in a good enough mood to settle through an agreement – Not that the Pooka would get through the actual conversation without pulling any new tricks out of his sleeves.

Getting close to Allendar, the prankster had already planned several jokes for this beautiful city. However as he laid his eyes on the horizon fiery smoke could be seen rising from the town like a phoenix reborn. His pupils grew in size, drawing in the fire the lit the skies. “Dude… That doesn’t look suave. I’d better hurry before there’s no one left to pull a prank on!” It didn’t take him too long to make the conclusion, but inevitably it did occur to him that his help might actually be needed – Yeah, right.

No longer just gliding through the air, Adam was now propelling his wings in an attempt to gain more speed than he already had. At this rate it would merely take him up to half an hour, seeing how the wind chose to favour him this one time in his life.

Sending an echo out to the location already, the Pooka tried to hear what exactly was going on around the city. Seconds later when the echo returned to him again, he wished he hadn’t used his famous bat trait after all. Screams in the dark could be heard everywhere, ranging from burning men to women complaining about the same guys who were set aflame.

“Heh. Breakfast’s early today. And sounds like it’s already cooked, too! All the more reason to hurry, don’t want to get a black layer on those feisty necks” To a normal human a thought like this would’ve been considered harsh, and odd… But to Adam it was an every day occurrence. After all, only the fittest are supposed to survive. No?

Finally after the precious thirty minutes had passed (as well as unlimited amounts of random thoughts about food and jokes), Adam reached the city.

An awfully dressed brunette was already showing off his powers, casting spell upon spell in an attempt to save whatever was still left. Though he might have as well been a part of the other side, as you don’t usually see a good guy tearing down the home of an innocent. Shrugging lightly, the Bluenet advanced into battle to shine brighter than this meek mage – Or whatever he was.

As the mage girded a man into the very soil, another came passing up on his right. Lucky for him, Adam was right by his side. “Target at nine o’clock!” He shouted, even though the adversary was actually coming from the opposite direction. Descending hastily upon the stranger’s shoulders, the Pooka sliced his talons into the man’s flesh and bended his head forward to the point where it was right in front of his supposed enemy’s face. “Peek-a-boo!” He spoke calmly.

As the man squealed out in pain, Adam launched himself off his shoulders and landed pretty much right in front of him. “Is there something in your eye?” He asked as he stepped forward to attend it – What the guy opposite of him failed to see though, was Adam’s foot stepping onto his and once again sliding the batlike talons underneath his skin.

Blood oozing out with yet another screech of agony filling the atmosphere, however the man did not intend to give up this easily. Raising his left hand into the air, he started casting – Silken red energy unfolding within his very eyes, the same energy pulsing outwards into his handpalm. “Why you… Insolent rodent!” He shouted. Adam being the Pooka he was, shrugged his shoulders and turned around with his right hand still up at shoulder height. “Whatever”, his hand fell back into its normal position; his wings gliding right passed the man’s neck. And as the foolish boy thought he could get away with firing his spell, a heavy slash of iron cut open the carotid artery in his neck.

Once more blood oozed out the victim, though a gushing stream such as this one was even surprising to the Pooka himself. Noticing a narrow stream reach the ground before him, Adam turned around and faced the man who’s face was even worse than Liza Minneli’s.


“What’s up dog? Cat got your tongue?”

[The Shadowed Road]

The flames and the screams of the innocent had attracted another. Darker than the Geomancer. And far more serious than the pooka. The attraction however was not what most might expect from his kind. It was an attraction born of a desire to help those screaming out into the night. Adrian Kincaid - though very quick to draw blood when necessary - was, in the end, a good guy.

So it was with the idea of helping others that he now scaled the far wall of the city, using the clawed chains of the Necroplasm to pull himself up and over the ramparts. Landing lightly, he immediately dashed towards the center of the town, towards the source of the flames. He did not make it anywhere near there however, for on the way he encountered a small group of marauders harassing a much larger group of the peasantry. There were only 3 of them... and the first fell to the wrath of the chains before they knew he was there. The other two turned to face him, and the battle was instantly on.

The necroplasm flowed down off his right hand, forming itself into the black bladed longsword he employed as a weapon. They clashed for several minutes, chains blocking swords strikes and his own blade slashing into the flesh and bone of the ones who stood in his way. When the second one fell before him, he turned to the peasants huddled by a still in tact building, "I would suggest you lot run. I'm moving on."

Of course they took the suggestion, nearly as afraid of the large black-clad half-demon as they were of the raiders. Indeed he did move on, dashing through the smoke and ash until he reached the town center, looking upon what could only be the leader of these bandits. He balked for a moment, unsure if this enemy was within his grasp of defeating. A large handful of armed soldiers was one thing. Some dark knight riding a knightmare was an entirely different story.

[ OOC: Sorry it's a bit short, having a bit of trouble getting into Adrian's head today. ]

[Fen Rirbal]

Fen looked onward towards his next destination as it burned brightly against the dark night sky. He clenched his fist as he stood on a grassy hill, just a kilometer from the city gates. The wind did little to the monstrous fire before him, but played gently with the youth’s pure-white braid and bangs as he unclenched his hand, letting the map he had wasted a good pouch of gold pieces on be swept away into the night abyss. The town would be little more than scorched earth by morning, but he couldn’t let the people suffer the same fate. His brow furrowed in anger as he took off into a run towards the burning city.

“You people just keep comin’ out of the woodwork, don’t ya? Well yer not escapin’ me!” A raspy, cold voice shouted from behind him, closer than Fen realized. An armored man on horseback came charging towards him on horseback, spear pointed in his direction. The youth watched his attacker and stood his ground.

Just as the spear was inches away from his unarmored chest, Fen rolled onto the grass out of the way an aimed his bow at the back of the man’s head, which turned to see where his kill had gone. Fen released the arrow from the bow with a sharp twang, directly into the man’s left eye, sending the brute from his steed and onto the ground.

The man let out a blood-curdling scream, flailing on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. “AAAAUUUGHHH!! How could you do this to me?! I’ll kill you, bitch!!”

Fen quickly pulled himself up onto the shaken horse’s back and turned his head to the side. “I’m not a girl,” he said softly.

The bright-eyed youth tapped his foot against the horse’s right side and made his way towards the breached city gates. His grip on the polished yew of his bow tightened as he entered the scorching ruins, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman clutching her child, kneeling in front of a soldier, whose sword was pointed downwards towards her. The youth leaped off of the horse and rolled on the ground, unsheathing a blade from the right side of his waist and throwing it toward the soldier’s lightly-armored back. The blade met its mark, and dug into the grunt’s stomach from the back. The soldier fell on his stomach with a slight whimper, and Fen walked over to retrieve his weapon.

He looked to the woman, the bottom half of his face hidden by the front of his leather cape. “Are you okay?”

The woman looked up and nodded slowly, tears running down her face mixed with the dirt and ash from the fire. “The baby…” She held her arms out. “It’s dead. I found it here…I tried to run away…”

The youth looked away. Fen wasn’t a newcomer to death, but it still made him feel uneasy. He shut his eyes. Footsteps could be heard, growing louder and louder as they raced towards him. His sapphire eyes shot open and he unsheathed the left blade from its place at his waist, and turned to face a giant of a man wielding a giant axe, the weapon’s blade cracked and dull. At that size though, it didn’t have to be sharp to kill anything that stood in its way.

Fen dove under the man’s legs and leapt onto his back, barely able to wrap his arms around the behemoth’s neck. “RUN!! Get out of here!” He shouted, trying to be heard over the crackling of the flaming buildings that surrounded them. The woman took off down the alleyway. "The one in charge! Their commander, he's in the center square! Go there if you want to help," she said, before rounding the corner.

The building to the left of him collapsed into a heap of burning debris, as Fen held on for dear life, clenching the hilts of his blades in both hands. What a predicament.

[Cyrus the virus]

((Closed now :)))

The city of Allendar, though under seige, would have done well to pray to whatever God they worshipped. Both in thanks for the four who had been in the city's proximity and decided to help, and for favor. If Allendar was going to survive, nothing short of a miracle would be to blame. Even if the commander fell, the flames of death were eating the city alive.

The commander himself knew this, though of course the idea that he would fall had not crossed his mind. His cavalry was working well to rout the men and women not seeking shelter, and all the available shelter was being burned to the ground by the few wizards he commanded.

Such was the fate of a city that did not bend to General Drok's will.

A man was in front of him, some strange figure with black armor of sorts. Drok didn't care to figure it out as he dismounted his Nightmare in one swift hop, landing nimbly on his feet despite his heavy armor and weapon. Without a moment's hesitation, the General began a swift walk toward Adrian, holding that glowing, runed sword almost nonchelantly as he moved.

Meanwhile, Luc was running down one of the city's roads, missing most of the antics of the pooka. Time was too short now to dwell on strange beings appearing, especially if they appeared to be fighting on Allendar's side.

"This is chaos, I can hardly navigate!" Luc roared in frustration. His face felt hot from the fires, and sweat had matted his hair and clothes against his skin. His breathing was rapid and short, the smoke hindered his vision, and above it all was the strain of the fire on his mind. He sensed the magic everywhere, as if the flames were simply manifestations.

He growled, trying to force himself to focus as he continued running. A building collapsed next to him, but he paid it no mind. Two soldiers passed behind him, but Luc ignored them. There was no point in fighting off soldiers if the town was going to fall.

Finally he came to the town's center, a square with a few flaming trees and benches, but otherwise not impressive. Luc spotted a horse of strange properties in the middle of the square, simply standing there and hardly moving. His eyes scanned the area, finally spotting the man who was obviously the commander, a tall armored warrior with a massive sword.

He started this, Luc knew, and could only watch as the General slashed his sword at another man, a wide horizontal arc that hardly seemed skillful.

"Feint!" Luc cried, trying to warn the other one that the General's attack was a ruse. He could only hope that the man had heard him.

[Linger]

As the man finally hit the ground, unconscious and left behind to bleed to death, the Pooka gazed around the area. Nowhere could he see the man whose life he tried to save, but then he didn’t see much else either – Well, besides the usual burning houses, screaming children and hopping bunnies.

“There’s a nice way to say ‘thank you’”, his words were soft, though the meaning behind them wasn’t. If Adam had taken any pride in his actions, he might’ve actually been mad for no one thanking him. There’s no pride in taking someone else’s life though, no matter what they did or wanted to do. “Imagine having to spend all eternity in hell with a horny Demon beside you, now that’d be fun” The Pooka shrugged, his eyes taking in the last signs of life from the dying man, yet he cared not to check if the fellow was actually dead or not.

Sending out an inaudible echo around his local vicinity, the changeling tried to take in the environment – Hadn’t the crowd been screaming so hard for just a minute, this actually would have worked. Alas, their lives were at stake and it’s not like they were in the mood to make a deal with Satan for eternal life to avenge the souls of their families, right?

Anyway, since everyone had come and gone, Adam didn’t really see a reason to stay where he was. Apparently the biggest fellow was supposed to be in the city centre, a place the changeling would rather avoid than stick his nose close to. “Run for your lives!” A woman suddenly yelled out of nowhere. A silhouette passed by the Pooka through the smoke, the lithe form revealing a feminine body with a child in her arms – Dead or alive? Peas or Carrots?

Slapping himself on the head, Adam managed to snap back to reality again, though his stomach was still trying to survive the nine tiers of Hell as it growled harshly through the night. “Time to go!” His thoughts were clear, as were the cries of sorrow – If only the sky were this clear, might’ve actually allowed the Pooka to see where he was going to, namely the city centre.

Again a shadow arose from the smoke; this time it was a young boy, his body bruised and battered all over and his lips covered in freshly spilled red blood. “Fuck! Another one of those ugly people!” He exclaimed, his mind linking the Pooka to the bad guys. “You call me ugly? Look at yourself”, Adam raised his brow in surprise, the act of the lad before him coming as a revelation between all this chaos and hatred. “You are so ugly that your mother had to tie a steak to your head so that the dog would play with you”

The blond looked at the changeling, his eyes widened and his brow rose slightly. For a moment he touched his face with his hand, looking for a piece of steak before realising it all just a manner of insult. “Right. I’m out of here”, the boy showed the Pooka his middle finger and hurried off, leaving Adam behind in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean? A sign of friendship?” He mentally shrugged and walked onward through the smoke, still going towards the city centre.

[Fen Rirbal]

Fen brought his legs up and kicked off of the behemoth of a man, landing on his feet and turning to make his way towards the center of the town. He had no time to deal with these...'small' fries, and he wasn't sure he was capable of taking even these armored cronies out anyway. Of course, the one in charge of this massacre was probably ten times more tough then these guys, but Fen didn't care. He had to put a stop to this atrocity at any cost.

The blue-eyed youth gripped the hilts of his short blides tightly as he ran through the streets towards the center square, dodging falling debris, and trying his best not to inhale too much of the thick, black smoke spewing from the growing flames. The fire would engulf the whole town soon enough.

A soldier holding a bloodied sword stepped out of a burning house right in his path, and pointed his weapon towards him.

"Hey! Where the hell are you go-." The soldier's words were cut short as Fen spun the blade in his right hand towards the man's unguarded neck, cutting his throat open in a hurry. The man fell dead on his side as Fen continued on, anger fueling him. He didn't enjoy killing, but he wanted to make sure whoever was responsible for this payed their dues.

Fen stopped as he reached the large square, trying to make sense out of the chaos that was occuring before him. His attention was caught by a man yelling a single word out. The white-haired youth couldn't make it out, but that meant someone was here. Not thinking twice about his actions, Fen sheathed his daggers and took his bow and an arrow from their place on his back, pointing it straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"Show yourself!"

[Cyrus the virus]

((Bunnying so that we can move on.))

The figure in black, not the General but the smaller man, dodged the sword swipe by falling back, narrowly seeing the feint and adjusting correctly. The General quickly brought his sword back around and pulled it back, and then forcefully thrust it at the figure's form. The attacked quickly dove to the side and made off into the night, apparently in no mood to try and deal with the skilled General.

Suddenly a blade of wind came at the General, smacking into his helmet and deflecting off to fly beyond. Drok turned quickly to gaze upon Luc, growling to show his annoyance concerning the ineffective attack. "A hero for the town of Allendar?" The man laughed, and said nothing more.

Luc shrugged and tried to seem relaxed. "I simply search for magic, the kind that came from the sky a few moments ago. After I kill you, I'll find your mages and get some information."

General Drok, though full of responses, stifled himself and remained silent. Instead of countering with words he charged forward, sword following behind in a loose, one-handed grip. As he came to Luc he swung forcefully, and had the mage not fallen back a quick step, the blade would have cleaved his skull in two.

Luc leapt into the air before Drok could follow up, thinking for sure that the distance would be too great for the General to attack him. The armored fiend was well prepared for it, however, as he extended his sword to point at Luc and fire a well-aimed beam of some kind of yellow energy. The mage wasn't expecting an attack of that nature, and therefore was caught off guard. He was struck hard, knocked higher into the air before plummeting down, landing awkwardly on the ground.

The drop knocked him senseless, giving Drok time to come over to him, grab his tunic and lift him up with a single arm. "Kill me?" He asked slowly. "You're just a boy."

Drok pulled him up a bit, and in a showcase of incredible speed and power, he released Luc and then throttled him with the same hand before the mage could hit the ground. Luc fell back hard from the impact of Drok's iron fist, collapsing to the ground like a lifeless doll.

Drok stood above him, placing the tip of his Rune-embedded blade to the mage's chest.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc found himself staring down the length of the steel, runes popping with energy and ready power. The town had been all but destroyed. Fires still raged and screams still rang in the night, though they were few and far between now. Many of Drok's soldiers were coming back to the town square and witnessing his situation with the mage, leaning on each other to congratulate on a good job and watch what happened next.

The general didn't say anything. Why would he? Drok had killed thousands of men without so much as a goodbye, so it was without hesitation that he leaned on the sword and drove it forward.

But before the sword hit home, one of the runes close to his hand erupted, and flames leapt from the blade to strike at the surprised general. Drok fell back, dropping his sword as the rune popped and sizzled, throwing flames all about. Luc had used his power over fire to manipulate the rune, but had only been able to do enough to unbalance it, not cause it to explode like he hoped.

The mage forced himself up, despite the pain. "Yes, kill you," he said as the general fell back some more. A gust had come from nowhere and surprised him, taking him off balance. The ground below him slowly turned to mud, but he was too focused on dealing with the sudden wind to notice it. He sunk to his knees before he took any real notice and started to try and pull his legs out.

The ground hardened again before Drok could escape, effectively cementing him into the stone in the town square. His troops broke into a mad rush to try and stop Luc, who quickly took to the sky and out of their reach. "Maybe I won't find your mages, but I can at least make sure you never pillage another town!"

He drew his dagger and pointed it at the half-buried Drok, and released a stream of flames that engulfed his head, shoulders and body. A mighty roar erupted as Drok's armor melted into his flesh, sizzling him like a piece of prime meat on an open pan. When the screams stopped, the flames died down and Luc sheathed his dagger. Below him was a smoking figure that Luc did not wish to see any longer.

Luc coughed as the smoke got to him, but he couldn't descend now, not while Drok's troops were furiously wanting to slay him. The threat of the general was gone, but there was still work to be done by him in order to save the city.

[Cyrus the virus]

The mage descended after getting as far away from the town square as he could, which, unfortunately for him, was only a few roads away. He landed in a space between two rows of burning homes, where a half dozen charred bodies lay in twisted positions, limbs and digits curled in agony. Luc didn't look at them as he fell to his hands and knees, coughing black liquid from deep in his chest, spitting often as he tried desperately to catch his breath.

He was hardly spared a moment to recover, however, as he heard the pounding footsteps of Drok's infantry bouncing down the road. Despite the pain in his chest and his other injuries, Luc pulled himself up and stood as the group came into his sight, emerging from the smoke like demons of Haidia.

"Get the mage!" One of them called. "Killing our general is a crime that can't go unpunished! Torture will usher him into death!"

It seemed that in Drok's absence another soldier had taken lead, something that in the chaos of what was happening in Allendar was rather remarkable. Luc would have been impressed, had he not been focused on more important things.

He had little strength left, but managed to turn about and run frantically as the soldiers followed. Everywhere he turned, burning buildings reminded him of his failure to protect the town, but what could one mage have done? After only a moment of running, it was becoming obvious that he couldn't hope to escape, and he was readying himself to Windwalk.

But at that moment he was knocked by a soldier's shield as he emerged from a burning building, just in time to catch the fleeing mage. Luc spun away from the man due to the impact and hit the ground awkwardly. He tried to get up, but the pursuing soldiers were upon him instantly. He created a dome of earth from the ground below, covering himself with a makeshift barrier.

"Break the shield!" He heard, the muffled cry somehow getting to his ears through the dome. The soldiers stomped upon the barrier and stabbed at it, slowly breaking it apart. After a moment a sword broke through, and soon the barrier had crumbled entirely.

Luc scrambled to get away, but a sword blade caught him just above his left hip, driving straight through into the stone below the mage. Luc cried out in horror and pain, but wouldn't give up, throwing up his hand to create a torrent of wind that lifted a few of the closest soldiers into the air, throwing them backward in a violent updraft.

He had no time to worry about the pain as he pulled the blade out of himself and dropped it aside. There were still soldiers neaby that clamored toward him, brandishing blades and with murderous eyes. The ground below Luc broke apart and created a platform that lifted him. He was about to soar off when a hand gripped his leg and dragged him from the platform, yet another horror inducing event.

The platform flew off without him, but Luc managed to land on his free foot, the one that used his injured hip as a support. In desperate times he was able to ignore the pain, but he felt his strength leaving him as the soldier turned him about and slammed him into the wall of a nearby building, where flames from the inside burned against the mage's back.

He was there for just a split second before a sword was driven though his shoulder, and a knife into his ribs. A series of cries spewed forth from his mouth, but even the act of screaming sent even more pain through his body. The nearest soldier twisted the sword deeper into the mage's shoulder, making the anguish so much worse.

"You will burn here, wizard! In the afterlife, Drok will revel in your suffering and wait for you, and even in death he will make your pain worse. On the other plane he will haunt you," said the soldier, viciously spitting the hateful words through his black helmet. "You will die a thousand deaths, but will never escape him."

Luc felt sapped and weak, and his eyes wanted to close. The pain was nearly unbearable, and the flames from the building were nipping at his hair. He wanted to fall, but the sword in his shoulder had him pinned to the wooden wall. He forced his eyes open, but even those vibrant green orbs had dulled. They would close forever unless he found a way to escape, but Allendar would burn without his help.

Then again, if he couldn't escape, he would burn with the city.

"Sir, we need to go," another soldier said. "We'll be trapped here with this fool if we don't escape soon. Our wizards are holding paths open for us by keeping the flames at bay, but the inferno grows ever more powerful each moment."

The soldier directly before Luc turned to face the speaker, then looked around the area, taking a measure of the fire and it's severity, then seemed to nod in agreement. "Indeed," he said. He then turned to face Luc again, lifting the lowered head of the dying mage with an armored hand. He wanted to see the face of the man who would burn. "Don't die until the flames overtake you," he said.

With a gesture from him, the soldiers of Slivar began to move out, most casting a hateful eye on the mage before making their way back down the road. The new leader waited a moment before following.

Even in their departure, Luc could hardly find the power to lift his head, let alone pull the blade from his shoulder and pry himself from the building. He did manage to pull ahead a few inches to get away from the roaring fire, though the heat was still intense enough to bubble his flesh. Conscious thought itself was difficult under the circumstances, but Luc was aware enough to know what was happening.

He was going to die here. An attempt at being a hero had done him in. Rather ironic, considering Luc had never been the heroic type. A final moan of pain came from him as Allendar burned in the night, a firey reminder of what the Slivaric army did to its enemies.

[Cyrus the virus]

It all seemed to happen so fast. Luc had taken down the General of Slivar one moment, and in a flash he was pinned to the wall of a burning building, head drooped and eyes half-open, staring at the blade in his shoulder and the one in his side. He hardly felt the pain anymore, but he was aware of it. It was like a pulsating annoyance more than anything, and the heat of his own blood against his skin felt hotter than the fire behind him.

His mind was still active, but even his thoughts were sluggish and slow. He tried to think up places he wished he was, people he wished he could see and talk to, even Raiaeran Blue Wine crossed his mind and he remembered how sweet it was, almost like a quality juice. He'd never been to Raiaera, come to think of it, despite how much magic was said to be in the land and how much he enjoyed Raiaeran drink. Strange how it'd never occured to him to go there before now.

Luc knew that his body wanted to die, he could feel the blackness of death surrounding him like a blanket waiting to smother. But he was a stubborn little bastard, the kind that always wanted his way regardless of the circumstances. In this case, he wanted life, despite just how close death was.

He began to hum a tune to try and stay awake. It was a familiar song, but Luc couldn't think of the name or where he'd learned it, or even the words. But the melody was slow and sweet, and even seemed to merge with the roar of the fire to add a whole new dimension to it, which would have been humorous in a different situation.

He still had Windwalk, his teleportation spell, Luc realized. At first it gave him some hope, but he then realized there was nowhere in all of Althanas that could correct such wounds and heal such devastating injuries.

...Or was there?

Suddenly he had a thought. Could... Could I go there? he wondered, honestly bolstered by the idea. Of course, people there weren't allowed to... But it was worth a shot. At least he wouldn't die when there was a chance. At least he could try to get to a place where he could be saved.

It took all of the concentration in the world, all the energy he could possibly muster, but a few seconds later Luc exploded into wind, the dagger from his side falling to the ground with no body there to hold it up. He traveled with incredible speed in the form of the wind, through the entire continent, across the ocean and to his destination, where Luc came back into solid form and collapsed instantly, falling hard into a set of marble stairs, unconscious.

[Cyrus the virus]

"Are you crazy?" Asked the man in all seriousness as he restrained his friend and ally, physically holdhing him back with both arms. "We can't do that, it's just not something we do here!"

The restrained man stopped struggling against the other Citadel Monk, but his eyes were ablaze with passion. "So you plan on leaving him there to die? He came here for a reason, and we have the moral obligation to heal him, now get out of my way!"

The other monk shook his head in complete defiance. "No. We don't run a healing service here. If we healed this one, adventurers would clamor to the Citadel for healing all the time. We heal Citadel users only, understand?"

"At least let me take a look at him. I can't heal him without your help anyway, but I'd at least like to check out his injuries, maybe find out what happened to him," the helpful monk pleaded.

A deep sigh escaped the other, and he peered at the fallen form of Luc Kraus through the open door. "Fine," he said finally, and his ally ran past him to investigate. He followed.

Together they inspected him, first noting the burned flesh all along his back, bubbled skin and blackened flesh. Together they turned him, and noted that the worst of his wounds was at his hip, where a sword had penetrated straight through his body and caused massive bleeding.

"Are you satisfied yet?" Asked the man as he looked upon Luc's body. He hated to see someone in such a state, but the Citadel had very strict rules about this sort of thing.

When his friend didn't answer, the monk looked up and found his friend just staring him straight in the eye, not saying anything... Not with words, anyway.

"Don't be a fool! We could lose our jobs for good, maybe worse!" He said angrily, recognizing the other monk's hopeful eyes for exactly what they were: a plea for help.

But despite the explanation from his ally, the helpful monk couldn't be deterred from his desired path. "He's still breathing," he said slowly, quietly.

Some deliberation followed, but soon they began to see things eye to eye. Moving the mage was too risky at this point, but together the monks healed him to a safe level and brought him inside, much to the shock of nearby monks and Citadel users alike.

"We're finished," the defiant monk mumbled as they took Luc to a bed, but he did feel a certain relief at choosing the course he had.

++

Luc returned to the conscious world, and immediately he was shocked to know he was alive. He sat up quickly and recognized the room to be a Citadel healing area. The mage didn't remember coming here, and for a moment thought that the whole experience in Allendar might have been a Citadel battle, and he'd forgotten about first joining it.

But some time in thought brought him to remember. He had Windwalked to the Citadel despite knowing the rule of healing, that the monks were only to heal those who were injured in a Citadel battle. He laughed loudly as he realized that he had been healed, and the two monks entered the room when they heard it.

"You healed me," Luc said plainly, stating the fact. "You really did. I was to die, but you brought me back."

The monks looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, not quite excited that the mage was proclaiming the fact so loudly. They had, after all, managed to convince most of their colleagues that Luc had left the Citadel after a battle without seeking healing, and they found him collapsed on the stairs.

Luc hopped out of bed, completely vitalized and full of excitement. Allendar was a passed memory already, a chapter of his life to write away. Never would he try such a stunt again. He didn't realize it, but Luc had become a little less caring, a little less willing to help others if it meant putting himself at risk.

He did, however, produce a pair of platinum coins from a pouch at his belt as he made his way to the monks. He placed one in each of their hands, thought they didn't understand what he was doing at first. "You have little need for money, but so do I. It's the only way I can think to repay you," Luc said in gratitude. He was never skilled at verbal thanks.

With that he left, rather anxious to get to the Silver Pub and taste Raiaeran Blue Wine. Someday soon, he needed to get to Raiaera and try it fresh, but for now he just wanted to enjoy home.

((-1000 gold for me))

[INDK]

In general, I will offer more comments for Cyrus than the rest of you. That is because Cyrus was the only one to finish this thread.

Total Score= 56.5 Holy jeepers! For the love of all coincidences Batman!

Introduction – 4.5 The momentum that Cyrus successfully built in his introductory post with him bringing this thread into action immediately was wavered when the rest of you slowed the pace down in your introductions. None of these introductions was as bad individually (though the Shadowed Road largely lacked imagination) as they were taken as a group.

Setting – 6.5 Sometimes the setting from Cyrus was majestic though I felt others could have emphasized on it a bit more. Fen did a good job with the little individual details that related to the character. With a dramatic setting like this, its very easy to get reactions from the reader just by explaining what was going on. The one thing I felt most of you could have worked on a bit was how the setting effected your characters. Luc was the one that I feel worked with this to some degree, since while he wasn’t normally inclined to do anything heroic, he made an exception in this case just because how brutal the carnage one. I’ll comment more on this in character, but it earned you some props in setting.

Strategy – 6 The Shadowed Road: I really like the necroplasm as a weapon. It’s just cool. Cyrus the Virus: I liked the way you used the Citadel monks in this. It was really unique, especially in your willingness to think through their thought process as well as yours.

Dialogue – 4 Normally I might be tempted to skew in the case of limited dialogue, but here I felt that dialogue was underutilized.

Character – 6 This could have been bit stronger from Luc if I’d had a bit more elaboration on his motivation to play a hero in this instance.

Rising Action – 5 This thread had very erratic motion through it, especially when it was a multiperson thread. There seemed to be no sense of organization among the people in this thread. I don’t mean that you guys needed to plan this out in an AIM chatroom, what I’m suggesting is that you look at how the posts before you are going, and have your post go at a similar pace.

Climax – 5 Pretty nicely done, but a problem that I go into more detail in writing style hurt you a bit here.

Conclusion – 6 Generally a good conclusion. You wrapped up what you knew and all that good stuff.

Writing Style – 5.5 Linger, some of your choices of similies seemed tacky, such as comparing someone’s face to Liza Manelli. While I can appreciate that you want your character to seem irreverent, you do more than enough to come across that way without breaking the Fourth Wall like that.

Cyrus the Virus, there were some really nice touches in here that you killed by overelaborating. I’ll give you an example;


His mind was still active, but even his thoughts were sluggish and slow. He tried to think up places he wished he was, people he wished he could see and talk to, even Raiaeran Blue Wine crossed his mind and he remembered how sweet it was, almost like a quality juice. He'd never been to Raiaera, come to think of it, despite how much magic was said to be in the land and how much he enjoyed Raiaeran drink. Strange how it'd never occured to him to go there before now.

Great idea, it makes Luc seem much more like a human, and it makes the reader want to see him survive this somehow. However, if you’d consolidated it, then you wouldn’t have taken so much momentum away. For example, that set of lines would have flowed much better like this


His mind was still active, but even his thoughts were sluggish and slow. He tried to think up of places he wished he was and things that he’d seen. Raiaeran blue wine had crossed his mind, and he remembered how much he loved the sweet juice. Too bad it had never occurred to him to go there before now.

It’s one less sentence, but read over the post with my paragraph instead of yours. See how it just fits in better.

Wild Card – 7 Bonus points for Cyrus for finishing the thread when no one else would.

Spoils=
Cyrus the Virus receives 650 EXP (I’m giving you a bit of a bonus because it seems like you don’t want GP)
Ren Firbal receives 30 EXP
Linger receives 30 EXP
The Shadowed Road receives 10 EXP

Thoracis, please also deduct 1000 GP from Cyrus the Virus in accordance with his request.

[Thoracis]

Rewards Added. Cyrus is level 5 now!