Hooray for the Bad Guys

[Workout Wonder]

many things were bought here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=46389#post46389) that are not in my profile. Very much open.

“Hooray for the bad guys,” Kedx mumbled. He didn’t remember who sang the song, and certainly they had meant it in a more sarcastic way than the vampire was implying it now. He had arrived in Underwood, replete with a liviol chariot lead by two powerful steeds. The vampire reveled in the thought of the battle that was about to ensue.

It was night, the perfect time to plan such sport. Every pithy, meaningless human had tucked themselves into bed, and the sleepy town of Underwood had offered so little resistance at its gates that Kedx hadn’t even deigned to slow his chariot to fight them. All it had required were a couple of well placed arrows and now he was in to the city.

Ferociously, Kedx began to ride circles around the town square, blowing loud notes on a conch he had just bought at the bazaar. As he rode around that square, he made a last promise to himself. For the last time, he was going to consider his own mortality. After this point, it wouldn’t matter. He would have either destroyed Underwood and become a beast of legend, or else faltered somewhere in the task.

With that, Kedx looked up at the statue in the center of the town square. Kedx didn’t know who the man was who had been immortalized in stone, but that didn’t matter much either. Now a group of men had made their ways out from their homes to observe the curiosity, and it made Kedx smile.

“This is going to get interesting,” he declared. “I come bearing a declaration- a declaration of war.” His eyes seemed to be seething red underneath his mask, and his lips were practically frothing. “Underwood, you have committed no crime against me, none at least to which I know, but I still insist on destroying you!”

There was a murmur from the men who had gathered out in the town square. There were fifteen of them total, and none of them were particularly well armed. It seemed as though they were well aware of the fact that they were no match for the vampire who had invaded their towns.

“You will not escape,” one of them declared. This one was probably a more wealthy member of the town. He was dressed in silk pajamas and carried a musket with him. Kedx didn’t worry. He could sense the man’s fear, and that the man had only spoke out of a sense of bravado when surrounded in public.

Kedx smirked. “The only way you will live is if you shoot one of your colleagues, and then run immediately out of the town. Do not fetch your wife and children…”

The man in the silk pajamas stared at Kedx dumbfoundedly. There was a new murmur among the people, a general shock at the thought that their mayor would betray them. Kedx decided he was tired of the murmurs, and so he knocked an arrow into his bow and then shot it straight into the heart of one of the men gathered. He then knocked a second arrow into his bow and targeted it straight for the mayor.

“Fine… you may get your children, but you owe me at least three deaths first,” Kedx replied. He could sense the mayor’s fear. The mayor was not going to pass up this opportunity to live.

“NO!” the mayor shouted. He pressed the trigger. The man nearest to him fell to the ground, his head having exploded like a melon hit with a hammer. With tears brimming through his eyes, the mayor reloaded his weapon.

The others began to run. Even if they could fell their mayor, their only chance of survival was to escape. Someone was going to have to get out of the town and warn the Marshall, that would be Underwood’s only chance.

“You don’t have to attack anyone anymore,” Kedx told the mayor.

The mayor looked up with wide, grateful eyes. “Thank you!” he said.

“Give me your musket,” Kedx commanded.

The mayor obliged, and Kedx began to open fire on the houses nearby. His sixth shot destroyed the statue in the center of the town square. Maniacally, the vampire laughed to see such fun.

-x-

Kill count: 4
Arrows: 10
Bullets: 112
Acid Bullets: 12

[Djakara]

Djakara wasn’t sure what to make of the conch blaring at the ungodly hour of the night. Underwood had been the first place he had found since arriving in Althanas, and now that there was this announcement blaring, he couldn’t help but wonder if they hadn’t found him out as a stranger. “I hope they don’t think I’m some kind of spy,” he thought. Nervously, Djakara made his way to the town square, careful not to use the routes used by people. With what limited stealth he had, the young alien hid behind trees and houses, watching as a group of sleepy but fairly well armed men made their way to the town square.

Eventually, Djakara situated himself behind the biggest building facing the town square. He could look out and see the commotion, and while he was in ear shot, he doubted any noise he made could be heard over the booming conch shell. Eventually, a bunch of other people had congregated in the square, including the mayor who came armed with a musket.

As Djakara heard the charioteer’s demands, his draw dropped in shock. “What the hell?” he wondered. “What is it with this guy, is he some kind of genocidal freak. He’s just here with no reason!”

The young alien had seen people do things that had seemed wicked and ruthless before, and he had even seen people make decisions on the basis of less than admirable intentions. However, he had never seen a declaration of war that had seemed so completely and utterly arbitrary. At first, Djakara’s thought was to flee. He was already a refugee with no real ties to any place, so it mattered little if he took off from Underwood to some other place.

However, as Djakara saw the events unfold in the square, he reconsidered that impulse. This masked man on the chariot was a bully, there was no doubt about it. Bullies preyed on people who showed fear. If Djakara was going to survive, he was going to have to be strategic. He was going to have to find ways to hold this demonic man at bay until some kind of help arrived. The Peaceful Promenade seemed to house a lot of warriors, undoubtedly there were enough people in there that would make some kind of a stand.

Djakara watched as the mayor began to run away from the circle, blubbering like an idiot.

“Then again,” he figured. “Maybe not.”

With that, the young alien used his scythe-spear to slice open the padlock on the door of the house he hid behind and made his way in. There were people there, though they had already been woken by the first musket shot.

“Quiet!” Djakara commanded. “We’ll get up to the second floor and pour hot oil or something on this guy… quick start working in the kitchen!”

The woman of the house stumbled for words as the man of the house cupped his hand over her mouth and nodded that he complied. A few seconds later a musket ball rifled up through the top floor.

“Guess we won’t be as secretive as we wanted…” Djakara said humorlessly, grabbing a large frying pan and filling it with animal oil.

[Run]

"I suggest you check your god damn logs again, and find us some space. If I have to sleep in the woods, everyone will have to."

When compared to the red coated, foul mouthed, hot tempered emissary of the Church, the two accompanying acolytes could be canonized as saints by tomorrow. As the wrung their hands, averted their eyes, shuffled their feet, and acted all around timidly, the not-so-godly July Nusquam slammed his hand down onto the inn's counter, rattling pens and unsettled neatly arranged stacks of paper, but the clerk wasn't amused in the slightest by the acolyte's tantrum. Some of the drinker's, celebrating a hard day's work over a frosty pint glanced at him over their shoulders, sharing the clerk's expression. July's own was twisted in a fit of rage, his well cleaned teeth showing all too easily from a set of growling lips. "I'll see what I can do," he replied evenly, and then shooed the acolyte away. July's brows arched, and one hand shot up, but the two that had journeyed from Salvar with him recognized his curled, tensed thumb and fore finger and dove desperately onto him, grabbing his arm and prying his hand open. "No, brother Nusquam! Taking a life is a sin!"

More eyes from the tavern were drawn, watching the three acolytes struggle with each other, their own interest piqued with the words. Hands fell to waists, to knives or swords in sheaths, hands fell to the sides of chairs, to propped up crossbows and maces. The sound of a dozen lead bottomed tankards, weighted as such to trick the customer into thinking he was getting his money's worth, sounded out as armored men and woman twisted in their chairs. A dozen eyes looking for a fight. A dozen hands hungry for action. Sucking in a deep breath, July calmed himself down, smirking at the anxious warriors, their bodies strung for conflict. "Whatever. This place stinks like baked dog shit, I'd never get any sleep. Must be the people." Pushing the acolytes off him, he gave them a fiery glare, causing them to recoil slightly, gathering their hands to their chest as though to protect themselves. "And keep your hands off me, you little goody-two-shoes." His sneer hung triumphantly on his lips as he drew his hood over his head, steeping his face in shadow. It remained as he cut through the blood shot eyed crowd of drinkers, that mood of celebration and satisfaction peeled way to reveal discontent.

Just then, the peel of a horn tore through the night.

July stopped, looking across the small sea of wobbling heads to the windows, and the night beyond. It sounded almost like the bellow of a beast. Then: gunshots, as though from a musket. A beast of war, teeth stained in blood, a thousand swords bristling broken from it's hide. Hands fell again, and those dozen warriors did what they could to stand. One doubled over, and flushed his system in a jet of bile. "I was expecting this to be a boring trip..." One of the acolyte's pulled desperately on his sleeve. "But brother Nusquam, what about the pilgrimage?" The pyromancer paused to think. They'd originally been dispatched on a pilgrimage to Corone, his superiors worried about his worldliness and vile language. They were to find some rock with the effigy of a saint eroded into it by nature, but he could care less about such a thing. He was moving to the door a moment after the tottering warriors departed, leaving the lantern lit amber glow of the inn and into the velvety dark of the night. The soles of his odd hide boots crushed Spring grass and kicked aside pebbles as he approached the center of the chaos; a cackling man rode a dark blue chariot, pulled by two tremendous horses around the town, completely disregarding the safety of others, firing the rifle he held in eager hands. The warriors were rushing him, though two held back, bring crossbows to their shoulders.

"What about the pilgrimage?" The acolytes nodded, eyes wide in terror. "Simple." More citizens of Underwood, turned valiant defenders at the sound of a war horn, sprinted up, holding torches high. As they passed, the flames stayed, forsaking the oiled rags. They bloomed into great, twisting flowers of fire as July raise his arms to either side, his gloved hands slipping out of the long sleeves. "More important business came up, and you two unfortunately became casualties." Before they could puzzle over the statement, the clouds of fire swirled around them, igniting cloth and hair. The acolytes opened their mouths to screams, and the fire spilled down their throats, stealing their breath and life to feed it's hunger. For a moment, the only sign was that of smoke pouring graciously from their blistered lips, and then their skin ignited, the flames pouring out of their blackening ribcage and sizzling organs. Their lungs had burst with the expanding flames. In a war's halo, the fire looped around his form, slowly orbiting his body. "I like your style!" July called out as he neared the maniac's trampling chariot, wary of the rampaging beasts that pulled it. "But this town's not big enough for the both of us."

With an upward movement of his arms, the fire swirled up into the air above his head, the light flickering across his exposed chin and lips, gathering into an orb. Flicking his hand forward with the snap of his wrist, the fireball arced forward to collide with the maniac.

[Workout Wonder]

I could really care less about post order in this thing. Just no one post twice before someone has been able to respond to your interaction with them.

Kedx was surprised to see such strong resistance this quickly. The vampire had expected perhaps a bit more resistance when he got to the Peaceful Promenade, but he had assumed that downtown in the square he would be faced with nothing more than pathetic men armed with weapons that they had never learned how to use. The fact that a mage was nearby with such impressive firepower shocked the vampire.

For a few seconds, the shock was enough to keep Kedx steady. The fire was heading towards him, and had it not been for his horses buckling at the oncoming onslaught, Kedx’s entire rampage might have ended unceremoniously early. However, the vampire was able to recover as the horses buckled, sending him down onto the ground. The fire passed over his head meaninglessly, as the horses buckled towards one of the East roads out of town.

“Damnit,” Kedx muttered. “I wanted to get a few quick kills in here early to get everything over and done with.” The vampire reloaded his revolver, putting one acid bullet in the first cartridge. He stayed low in the chariot, making little effort to control its direction, other than to give his steeds a calming tug with his hand.

Soon, Kedx rose and pointed the revolver right between the eyes of the man who had thrown the fireball at him. “It’s a shame…” he said. “I only want to destroy the town and its inhabitants… I’d have been fine leaving you with the charred remains.” With that, Kedx fired the acid bullet.

He had absolutely no intention of bothering with arrows after just purchasing one hundred bullets at the bazaar. Kedx then emptied his chamber out at the mage and then took control of the chariot, steering it straight towards the mass of people gathering with their torches.

“Lets not get to close,” Kedx demanded, his voice sounding eerily calm given the fact that the entire city of Underwood now sought either to flee or to kill him. Kedx grabbed one of the bottles of vodka he had bought and readied it in his left hand. It was made of a fairly sturdy glass, but undoubtedly it would break if thrown with velocity. However, Kedx was sure he could at least knock someone unconscious with a well aimed throw. He watched and waited as he grew closer to the collection of men gathering and then threw the bottle of vodka straight at the man with the biggest flame.

It was a direct hit, straight to the temple. It sent the man down to the ground as the bottle of vodka and shards of glass out in to the crowd. The flame from the fallen man then ignited the liquor, and there was a huge eruption of flame. Kedx laughed at the sport and reloaded his revolver.

“Time to get back to see who’s made it to the square…” Kedx said, grabbing the reigns again and steering the horses back towards the place where he had begun his killing spree. It was there it seemed that the warriors were gathering to fight him, and now Kedx envisioned a pyrrhic stand. He wanted to know these men who challenged him, know their goals, the things they treasured most about Underwood, and if he couldn’t destroy the men easily, he would destroy the things they loved. Then everything would fall into place.

Already, the fire from the vodka was catching onto a few straw houses nearby, setting an entire row of poor housing aflame. It would be a matter of time before they reached a nearby logging facility. Kedx smiled at the thought of so many elves that thought they would live for ever never seeing the light of another day.

-x-

Kill count: 5
Arrows: 10
Bullets: 107
Acid Bullets: 11

[Christina Bredith]

They were strolling in the gloaming
Where the roses were in bloom
A soldier and his sweetheart brave and true…
And their hearts were filled with sorrow
For their thoughts were of tomorrow
As she pinned a rose upon his coat of blue.

The words of song sweetened up the thick, lazy evening air of the village, having an effect much as some sort of aural honey. Christina Bredith was a good singer, only moderately trained but certainly not lacking in natural talent. Her voice, which everyone told her came directly from her mother (whom she had only seldom heard sing herself), carried itself sweetly and pleasantly to such degree that no one bothered to note her inexperience.

The young blonde warrior was sitting on a wooden porch swing outside a traveler’s inn in Underwood, and she polished a most peculiar long sword in her lap with a soft cloth. It was made of steel, but the flat of the blade was decorated with circular plates carved from various coloured gems, and each had a different rune carved on the inside. Christina nursed the weapon like an adoring mother cradling her child, as if it was more important to her than life itself. And in many ways, Rosebite was. Her words came absently and ushered forth much melancholy as she polished; the hymn seemed a lullaby with a much sadder message.

“Do not ask me, love, to linger,
When you know not what to say,
For duty calls your sweetheart’s name again.
And your heart need not be sighing
If I be among the dying
I’ll be with you when… the roses bloom again…”

Christina had to choke back a sob in order to finish the verse. The unmuzzled emotion merely added to the gravity of the tune. It was one that hit close to home for her – all the songs she sang were, generally, as she was not one for frittering away her time with idle, meaningless song. The song spoke of hope, of life beyond death – nay, of love beyond death. Why, then, did it evoke tears and sadness from her silvery eyes?

Just as the woman opened her mouth to begin the next verse, she was cut off by the jarring blow of a conch that severed the night’s silence. The sudden noise caused her to start, nearly dropping Rosebite off her lap in the shock. She curled her lip and returned to her polishing with a shaky mutter of, “Fucking drunks.” For now, Christina was content to leave it at that.

When the roses bloom again
Beside the river
And the mockingbird has sung his sweet refrain,
In the days of auld lang syne,
I’ll be with you, sweetheart mine
I’ll be with you when the roses bloom again.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” The voice came only moments before the town’s emergency bell began to ring, calling the militia and the fire fighters to action. Christina let out another soft ‘tch’ and looked up, only to be met with surprise as indeed there was quite a grand inferno blooming not far from the town square, in the eastern part of the village.

“God damnit,” she mumbled, hastily slamming Rosebite into its leather sheath at her waist. “Can’t I get a moment’s peace even here?” The woman rose from her seat and shook her head briskly to throw her golden hair back. A few swift steps carried her down the porch and onto one of the dusty main roads of Underwood. There wasn’t much she could do to help a fire, but she could at least help the militia get any civilians out of the area. It was clear she wasn’t getting anything else done that night.

* * *

The sight that met her at the town square was not at all what she expected. Some kind of feline mad-man was parading around on a chariot, waving a revolver at anyone who got too close. Christina immediately ducked back around the corner of a grey-brick building when she saw him. He looked like some kind of hellspawned demon, frolicking in the bosom of flame and ready to carve a path for the living straight to the hall of damnation.

From the multitude of shouts around her, some from people running away and others from people charging in, Christina could gather that this man had in some fashion declared war on Underwood and had already killed several people with promises to kill more. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the litter box, the woman thought grimly, drawing Rosebite. Several of its runic gems had already begun to glow faintly.

The first step to fighting this lunatic was, she supposed, to get rid of his present transportation. As long as he was traipsing around on a chariot with a revolver in his hand, they’d be better off throwing rocks at him than swinging swords. Luckily, Christina knew just what the strategist ordered.

Peeking just around the corner, the woman waited for Kedx to make another round, this time heading in her direction. As soon as he was in such a position, she tossed herself into the street and began running directly for the other side. Halfway along, her voice cried out with desperation and power.

“Scream, Rosebite!”

The silver rune at the tip of the sword burned with energy, and as she swung her blade horizontally, a large arc of blue energy raced forward at knee-level with surprising speed. It would not cut the horses legs, but rather slam into them like a battering ram with bone-crushing force. While Kedx himself might not have had much trouble dodging such an attack, his clumsy horses and chariot were not built for reflex. Christina hated to harm those innocent animals, but it needed to be done. She raced between the next pair of buildings in order to hide herself and safely view the fruits of her labour.

[Djakara]

Djakara could feel the tension of the moment coursing through his body. The maniac had left the square before he could have managed any kind of resistance. The young alien scowled. He knew well enough that the masked murderer would return. There was too much evil left undone in the area.

Unsure what he could do, Djakara looked at the man whose house he had barged into. The two of them now stood on the second floor of their dilapidated house, the wall providing them with little protection against the outside elements.

“What do you suppose he’s gone to do?” the homeowner asked.

Djakara responded grimly, because he knew the answer. “Kill someone else,” he said. “He’s a bully, he’s going to look for soft spots…”

The homeowner seemed surprised by that remark. “A bully?” he replied incredulously. “He’s come to terrorize an entire city!”

“Underwood…” Djakara replied. “Not Eluriand or Radasanth, but Underwood. Are you really that impressed? Plus, he preys on the weak. He didn’t stand and fight the guy who stood up to him… he went and ran to find some others that he could kill. Does that seem like anything but a bully?”

Djakara was perhaps a bit too blunt in the way he phrased the matter, but he didn’t really have the time to debate the nature of the freak who was rampaging through their city. “Do you have a telescope?” he asked.

“A what?” the homeowner replied.

“A telescope, an eyeglass… you know, something that lets you see far away!” Djakara shot back, a bit of angst showing in his frustrated teenage voice.

There was no substantial reply, so Djakara took that as a sign that he wasn’t going to receive one. He looked around the house, seeing nothing that could work as a telescope and then contemplated his next movement. The violent charioteer returned, prepared to make another round at the square. A blonde girl with a bit of application had appeared and targeted the horses’ knees. Djakara smiled, because he knew it was an opportunity to end the whole damn thing quickly, just so long as the blonde’s projectile arc was effective on the horses.

Both time and geography were on Djakara’s side. Quickly, the agile alien leapt from the broken second floor the house onto the roof of the neighbor. Fortunately, all the houses near the square were made of sturdier stuff than the houses near the lumber mills, and they could support the weight of Djakara moving on top of them. Soon enough, Djakara was on the roof of the house closest to the battle. Without waiting another minute, the boy drew his weapon and leapt down right into the chariot, the scythe end of his weapon aimed directly at the charioteer’s neck.

[Workout Wonder]

Things were starting to go badly for Kedx. It seemed that Underwood had a number of resourceful people, even if they lacked the sublimely powerful. He was going to have to act quickly just to survive this most recent onslaught. It started with a girl who was better suited to the bed than the battlefield taking out his horses, causing their knees to buckle as they collapsed down to the ground. Just as Kedx’s chariot hit the ground with a thud, he suddenly noticed a young kid trying to leap down from a building to decapitate him. Acting quickly, Kedx deflected the attack with the barrel of his gun, and then followed it up by grabbing his sword to knock the young boy’s weapon away. It wouldn’t be too difficult, and Kedx didn’t doubt he would be successful, especially given the fact that he likely had a good amount more muscle than a foolish child.

“Wanted to make a name for yourself?” the vampire chided. “You thought I might just make you famous?”

Kedx kicked at the boy, trying to send him down to the floor of the chariot to deal with later and then turned and fired a pair of bullets straight at the blonde. The vampire paid little attention to her though, deciding that the attack was a lucky shot from her and not something that he really had to consider too heavily. With his chariot down, a good number of the towns people were now ready to come for him, so Kedx knew he was going to have to act quickly. He unsheathed his sword and leapt out of the chariot. Quickly he drove the weapon’s blade into the spines of both of his horses. The blows would kill them, but the deaths would be agonizingly slow and painful.

Wasting little time, Kedx bit at his own finger and dropped a bit of his blood into both of the horses’ mouths. If they were of no use to him alive, he was going to sire them so they could keep up the battle. After all, the shopkeeper at the Bazaar had suggested that might be a way that they could breathe fire.

He cackled malevolently at that thought, and now looked at his pithy opponents with murder in his eyes. Until the horses were reborn, Kedx didn’t have anywhere to go. For no apparent reason, he shot a schoolgirl with his second last bullet and then eyed the blonde.

“Your friend won’t be jumping off roofs any more…” he said maliciously. “But it’s so mean of you to attack me when I’m all alone.”

The last line was meant to be ironic. Kedx was not without backup plans. He had anticipated there being a bit of a resistance against him, and he had commanded his fifty demon troops to charge on Underwood if they saw too many torches lit in the city. Now, they had begun their rampage, overwhelming the people fleeing the city and beginning to engage those people who were willing to fight. Soon enough, the first demons would be arriving in the town square.

Things were certainly going to be getting much more interesting than they had been.

-x-

Kill count: 6
Arrows: 10
Bullets: 101
Acid Bullets: 11

Everyone is welcome to bunny and kill demons. I don’t care. These soldiers were obtained in this thread (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=1027&page=4)

[Djakara]

Djakara’s entire plan for success was quickly thwarted by the masked charioteer. His first attack was parried by the barrel of the revolver, and then before the boy had even managed to land with his feet on the ground, his spear-scythe had been knocked from his hands and he had fallen down to the ground thanks to a swift kick to the stomach. The boy groaned, hitting the ground with a hard thud as he fumbled around in the chariot for something with which to defend himself.

However, Djakara didn’t have much to fear. The bully wasn’t nearly as interested in punishing him for his failed attempt as he was interested in shooting the blonde. Djakara remained deathly silent, though his fumbling hand did manage to grab at a recursive bow. It mattered little though. The chariot had been stopped and so the masked sociopath got out. In a move that only confirmed to Djakara what a bully the man was, Djakara was forced to watch not only as the man destroyed his two loyal steeds but planted a bullet in the skull of a little girl for no apparent reason.

Reflexively, Djakara shuddered. He had never seen anyone be this cruel. Somehow, shooting the little girl like that even seemed worse than attacking the entire city of Underwood for no apparent reason. “He could have killed me!” Djakara thought guiltily. “I attacked him… I don’t even belong on this planet!” The alien shuddered at the thought of a bullet being lodged in the back of his skull like it was in that of the little girl.

With fearful eyes brimming with tears, Djakara brought himself to take a look at the girl. It was as bad as he had feared. She lay on the doorstep of her house, motionless, eyes wide open and almost perfectly like an angel. Djakara found his fists clenching around the bow with rage, and though he didn’t even know if he was sure how to use the weapon, he knocked an arrow into the bow and fired, straight for the bully’s black heart.

The arrow went nowhere. It fell right down to the ground near where it had fallen. Djakara trembled with rage, but he didn’t know what he could do. His scythe-spear had been knocked from him, and even in that state of indignant rage, Djakara knew better than to challenge the bully weaponless. He might have survived a couple of times already, but he knew he wouldn’t remain that lucky.

Furious at both his own impotence and the bully’s wanton disregard for life, Djakara grabbed a few of the arrows with him, strapped the bow on around his back and headed to get his spear-scythe. Soon enough, Djakara figured he’d learn how to use the bow, and the first arrow he fired true would end up right in the bully’s black heart.

With that resolution, Djakara leapt out of the chariot and rushed to fetch his weapon. He paid little attention to the growing hoarde of demons that was beginning to collect in the square, he was too furious to think about anything other than making the bully pay. At first, this had been a matter not unlike others- just about survival. Somehow though, the killing of the girl had made the battle personal.

(arrows and bow taken with permission from Workout Wonder)

[DakkonRyck]

To Dakkon... Underwood was the perfect place to hide from the Hunters. They would come sooner or later but for now he was safe. Or was safe the blast of something that sounded like a horn broke the silent night waking Dakkon from his peaceful if not uncomfortable sleep. He shifted and mummbled moving from agasint the allywall and getting closer to the square to see what all the commotion was about.

Dakkon and Aleria took the time simply sit back and watch the occasional sarcastic comment coming free as something happened- though this was usally from Aleria- the only one Dakkon could recall was Alerias comment after this man told the Mayor he had to shoot some people in order for him and his family to live.

Oh... I like him.

You would.

The begginning of the battle was enough to get Dakkons a slight step foreward to show he was about to join brought out a sudden protest from his... guest.

Insanity!

You always say that.

But this really IS insanity not only is it not your fight but you should be able to tell from here your no match for him.

Heard that one before.

... Fine. So what's your plan?

Dakkon shifted in his standings only enough to catch a better veiw of the action taking place. There were quite a few people working about to try and stop this man. Aleria and Dakkon had been watching since it all started and despite his general need for self perservation he'd decided he was done watching and hiding.

I need to do this.

Why.

To prove to myself I can. That I'm not weak.

That all?

...It also looks like fun?

We're gonna die.

He had to take his time- he had been waiting for a moment to strike. And this seemed a good a time as any. The attacker had most of his attention focused on the blonde and the gathering me. He could shout out a warning of his intent but that might give away what he was about to do. Dakkon suddenly moved from the shadowed allyway- speed being one of his greatest strengths he ran towards the group.

Hands together he let the gathering darkness of night amplify the dark energy forming bettween his palms making it about the size of a mans head. The burning energies that surged through his arms a moment later sent a spike of pain all the way up his arms the azure flames curled around the bomb he'd created- the bomb was a means of transportation for the flames which would despursed and do there damage. Armour ment nothing to these flames- as he knew from personal experience these flames damaged the soul contained with in the flesh.

Despite his charge Dakkon didn't even make it into Melee range twisting his body to turn away using his run to fuel the throw of his Dark Bomb giving it a little more distance and speed. Breaking its light arc at near the right moment it dropped towards its target.

Not the man.

But a few feet behind him- it was a bomb after all he only needed to get it close enough to do damage. How much waited to be seen.

And hopefully everyone else had enough sense to get out of the way.

When I get home and get access to MS word I'll spell check it a bit more... completely.

[Workout Wonder]

Kedx saw the projectile coming, and was fortunate that it didn’t explode too close to him. As the first bits of shrapnel and debris headed his way, the vampire merely jumped back into his chariot, recently abandoned by the boy who had been shooting arrows. Kedx watched as debris spurted everywhere, dealing the final death blow to the horses. Within the chariot, the vampire reloaded his gun, realizing that the game had changed now. At first, all he had been interested in was killing people as quickly as he could and creating the most destruction as quickly as possible. However, he was going to have to start fighting smart if he wanted to survive. He couldn’t survive merely by killing at whim, he was going to have to kill the people who resisted him he most effectively.

The first of these people was the one who just threw the bomb. The only problem was Kedx didn’t know which member of the mob to shoot. If he was lucky, then the demons would have taken care of the bastard for him, but the vampire didn’t think that he was going to be that fortunate. However, Kedx knew that the revolver wouldn’t work for the task. It was too fine an instrument for such a blunt job. The vampire grabbed another bottle of his vodka and knocked off the top of the bottle. He took a quick sip, paying no attention to the broken glass before placing a rag in. After a quick strike of the match, Kedx tossed the flaming bottle of vodka off in the direction of the person who threw the bomb. At the very least, it would kill a few people, if not Kedx’s favorite target.

As the vampire remained in his chariot, waiting for the impact of his most recent attack, he wondered when his horses would revive. Until they were reborn as vampiric horses, Kedx knew he was going to be stationary. He had underestimated the resistance too much, and now he feared he was going to have to pay.

For a moment, Kedx cursed himself. He had promised he wasn’t going to think about his mortality. The more and more he thought about it, the less dangerous he could be. More than anything else, Kedx just wanted to destroy. Destroying Underwood was his only chance at immortality.

However, things were going well enough that he didn’t have much to fear. The bomb destroyed the remainder of the statue, and all that was left of Underwood’s most prized symbol was bits and pieces of shrapnel embedded in his opponents and a few places on his chariot.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina was already safely away, down a dark alley between two grey-brick buildings on the opposite side of the road, by the time Kedx fired his bullets at her. She had ducked away as soon as the barrel of the revolver was fixed on her, for indeed the only thing she was concerned with right now was taking away the feline vampire’s means of transportation. As long as he was grounded, he would be a little easier to deal with, although the advantage was minimal at best. Safe in knowing that her plan had been accomplished, there was no reason for the woman to stick around and let her skull get aerated.

Already Christina was trying to figure out what the next step of her plan would be. The way the maniac moved, she knew she would be no match for him herself, but luckily that was not the case here – he had stepped into a village full of potential threats waiting to take him on. All she needed to do was support them, let them support her, and wait for an appropriate chance to strike. First we’ve got to do something about that gun.

Christina paused at an intersection between four similarly-drab buildings and looked around to gather her bearings. Immediately she turned and bolted down another alleyway, plotting a course that would circle her back around to the central square where the vampire was fighting. Before she could emerge from between the two houses, though, the woman screeched to a halt, her path blocked by the sudden emergence of a hulking mass of flesh and muscle with two black horns and a hefty warhammer in hand. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened. A nervous laugh escaped her lips.

“You’re a little far from home aren’t you, big boy?” Christina began to back away slowly, but the demon merely grunted, snorted through its pig-like nose, and brandished its weapon in both hands. “Oh, shit.”

Unprepared for this turn of events, the blonde warrior could think of no other course of action but to backpedal as quickly as possible to place herself outside the range of the mighty weapon. She managed to get away just in time for the sledge to slam with crushing force against the ground in front of her, catapulting gravel and rock into the air all around her. Christina shielded her face with her arms and just barely kept herself upright. And then, she ran.

The exact opposite direction would carry her further from her intended destination, but that seemed a meagre compromise when compared with being crushed by a hulking demon. She didn’t get far, though; trudging down the alley from the opposite side was yet another creature of similar bulk and size, this one dragging a great axe behind it. The weapon was the full length of its body and its head its entire width, and that was indeed saying something.

“Motherf—” Christina blurted out, but she didn’t waste time or breath to finish. She needed a way out of here, and fast. With the amazing reach the creatures possessed, she didn’t want to risk using her Sonic Sable to carry her up to the rooftops; she would likely be swatted out of the air like a fly. And so, with only one remaining option available to her, the warrior made a beeline for the hammer-wielding demon.

The beast snorted mightily and hoisted up its weapon for another swing, but Christina was not about to let it succeed. As soon as it prepared to merge her with the pavement, she swung her sword, missed the beast’s weapon by a longshot, and screamed out the same command she had before. A bright blue burst of energy surged forth, slamming into the handle of the demon’s hammer and forcing it to the side. It slammed into the wall of the house beside the creature, burying itself inside and causing enough of a shock to give Christina the opening she needed.

As her brutish opponent struggled to free its weapon from the relatively little space afforded to it due to its bulk, Christina ducked and darted between its backward-bending legs. This was easy enough due to how massive the demon was; its groin was as high as her chest. Once she was safely away, she drew her blade along the backside of one of its legs, severing the skin and muscle and bringing the beast to its knees with a roar of pain. Its companion was more than ready to take its place, but it now had a large, wounded obstacle between it and Christina. A second later and she was around the corner.

Where the hell did these things come from? she wondered as she darted back towards the square. Don’t tell me this asshole has friends in low places. That’s just what we need. Sure enough, there were a couple more of the bastards heading her way, each one bigger and uglier than the last, and they were intent on blocking her advance to the town square. Christina snarled and halted, grasping Rosebite in both hands. This time she was going to hold her ground. “Alright, pig-face,” she challenged, staring them down with silver-eyed conviction. “Let’s do this.”

[DakkonRyck]

Since she was the only person who was still in range- I'm going to post as I'll be unable to until late Thursday- flying home. If not Friday.

Fortunatly Dakkons orginal movement to move away from the locatoin he'd deploy the blast from was a good one the arking turn lead him into a crowd of people who we're gathering to resist this... person...

Vampire.

Attentive to detail as always Aleria.

Dakkon was circling through the crowd when he heard glass shatter and a screams he took a moment to glance back as a rather grouped together crowd of people where on fire. Well that wasn't good- but the crowd started to dispurse away from the flaming men who where running out in all directions his cover disapeared- the crowd and whatever had crashed into the crowd has been only a few moments to late to catch him. Dakkon lowered his figure to the crowd postioning himself with the remains of the statue bettween him and the Vampire- out of sight for the most part.

Something is bothering me...

If it's about this current turn of events... feel free to fill me in.

Dakkons body shifted slightly- head raised to peer at the Vampire.. who was standing in his Chariot that would provide some cover but made him a sitting duck.

Why is he standing in a chariot waiting when the horses are dead?

That kind of worries me as well... I think my next target should be the Chariot.

I suppose- but how about this...

Dakkon took a few moments to listen to Aleria's idea- she didn't have many or feel the need to voice them often so he took it in stride. Dakkon thought it sounded like a good idea.The idea was to wait until someone else took a shot at the Vampire again before making a move- provided he still hadn't been spotted. A great deal of noise broke out behind him and he spared only a moment to look as they where being invaded by- Demons? He'd never seen demons before- the townfolk suddenly had their handles full. Where they here under the service of the Vampire?

This complicated things- he could either go do battle with the Demons or work his way about the Vampire- who could safely be more powerful then he was and he had no way of telling without getting closer.

Dakkon couldn't wait anymore it was either attack again or deal with the encrouching Demon Shock Troops.

...

What?

Going to take my chances with the Vampire.

This isn't going to end well...

Never does.

Dakkon's reaction was quick standing and scaling the statues rubble- moving him higher off the ground both gauntlets removed the bladed Chakrams from his belt as he made to jump into the Chariot and to plow one of the blades towards the Vampires chest- the other weapon reserved for defense if needed. He didn't know a lot about vampires and he'd never encountered one before... but he had talked about them breifly once with Aleria- the basic concept was a tad confusing but from his understanding most physical wounds are fleeting at best so just slicing his throat or going for a gut shot seemed out of the question so he went with a more magical means the azure flames suddenly curled around the Charkram before he went to make his strike.

Did Vampires have souls? Either way it would sting like the dickens... if it hit...

[Djakara]

Djakara had just managed to get his hands on the spear-scythe when the bomb exploded. The refugee was fortunate enough to be out of the eye of the explosion, but he was still close enough that he fell down to the ground from its impact. A piece of stone embedded itself in his high shoulder, but otherwise, Djakara came out alright. He winced, naturally, for it had been rare for him to feel pain like that. However, with the sudden rush of demons charging the square, Djakara knew that he couldn’t afford to stay off his feet for too long. At worst, someone would find him, and at best, he would likely be trampled.

Injured and without a plan, Djakara picked himself up. His arm hurt too much for him to really have use of it, though it was fortunate that he’d injured his right, non-dominant hand. A lit bottle of vodka flew through the sky and landed near a group of people, lighting a nearby house on fire. Djakara shuddered. Underwood was never going to be the same after this attack.

The boy didn’t know now whether he was supposed to be frightened or angry now. He had seen such incredible disregard for life, but he was also overwhelmed by the sheer power being thrown about in the battle. There was no way that he could have competed with any of it. Djakara shuddered, frozen in his tracks. He didn’t know if he should stay and fight, or go and save himself. He had come to Althanas to survive, not to die so uselessly in Underwood…

“Althanas still needs me alive,” Djakara realized. It wasn’t a case of his own inflated ego, the fact was that the boy was the only one who knew of the dangers that the Republic could pose to the rest of Althanas. Without him to warn them, who knows what would happen to Undwerwood. Morally, Djakara may have been obligated not to fight this vampire, but to stay alive.

Still, Djakara knew that fleeing was useless, but there were still a good number of buildings around that would provide him with more protection than usual. The demons were still mostly working their ways through the townspeople and it seemed that the man who had thrown the bomb was going to be occupying most of the charioteer’s attentions. Knowing this, Djakara realized that he might just have an opportunity now to end it all. His first few arrows had been useless, but now as he knocked another arrow into his bow, the sudden welling of emotion in his chest made him feel as if this one would not fail. Djakara pulled back on the bowstring and fired, his eyes locked on the homicidal madman who was paying absolutely no attention to him.

“This is the end,” he muttered to himself, turning hope into a genuine conviction. The moment after he fired the arrow, his right hand grew numb. Not waiting to see the impact of his shot, Djakara began to run for one of the few houses in the square that still had the walls to shelter him.

[Workout Wonder]

Things were starting to escalate beyond Kedx’s control. Another suicidal man jumped after him, just as an arrow pierced the vampire in the arm. Kedx paid little attention to the injury, as a vampire he had little to fear from a metal tipped weapon, especially when there was a bigger threat to deal with. “Too many kids thing this jumping stuff is going to make them famous,” the vampire thought angrily. “Really, the only fame to be had here is mine.”

In truth, Kedx was shocked to see how few people had decided to join up with him. He would have thought that every scoundrel or miscreant within Underwood would have lavished at the opportunity, that every mistreated log worker would take this as an opportunity to destroy their bosses. However, it seemed that the whole city was against him, and they had even more heroes than he had imagined.

Still, the vampire wasn’t worried. A few injuries wasn’t going to get in his way. However, Kedx knew he was going to have to accelerate his plans. The two sired horses were convulsing on the ground, it would be a matter of minutes before the steeds were ready to carry him through the city. Now, all he had to do was worry about the man with the chakrams. Kedx fired a couple shots into the air, generally aimed towards his new nemesis as he unsheathed his sword, eagerly awaiting the fight between the two. He was going to have to be careful, this white haired warrior carried a chakram, which was a weapon that the vampire had never faced before.

However, once he realized the blow was aimed for his chest, Kedx laughed arrogantly. “The mask probably hides that I’m a vampire,” he realized. Underneath his robe, Kedx was wearing a mythril chest plate that would absorb most of the damage, magical or otherwise. Still, the blow was fierce enough to send Kedx staggering a few steps backward, but it wasn’t enough to take the advantage away from the vampire.

“It’s considered pretty poor decision making to leap at someone who could shoot you at point blank range,” Kedx said coldly, well aware that his mask and amorphous robe concealed all the signs of pain he felt. It wouldn’t conceal everything. His vlince robe had burned right near where the chakram had landed. Still, the vampire knew that there would be no pleasure gained by his enemy when he pressed the trigger.

With that, Kedx fired, ready to blow out the white haired La’Fury’s brains.

[DakkonRyck]

Dakkon was a fast learner the drawn weapon aimed and pointed at him let loose a couple of bullets- poorly aimed... in truth Dakkon had never encountered a gun before so but had seen and watched the man use it earlier- out of the shots fired most missed expect for one which caught him high on the shoulder. The blow was painful- and seered into the skin... but his chain mail vest had done something the bullets general directional was changed enough to draw it away from the meat of his shoulder- it still broke skin and it still grazed the bone.

Ow...

He landed not in the cart- but on the edge his balance surprising as his strike landed true... but the foe was armoured which took away a good deal of effect- the azure flames flickered and burned over the vampires flesh before fading away. A moment later he had a gun pointed to his head.

Dammit Dakkon move!

Something- nothing seemed to jerk Dakkons head to the side by his hair having him let out a light surprised yelp as the essence of Aleria did one of the few things she still had the power to do- hurt Dakkon.

At least it wasn't a kick in the balls this time.

The loud Bang of the gun rattled him and his hearing near deafened on his one side. He was really starting to dislike this weapon this man had. He somehow had managed to remain on the edge of the Chariot though hands still fixated around the Chakrams as the man had his sword drawn now.

Full hands limited his options down to his flames and Soul rage.

So he took less then a second to fixate the Chakram to his belt freeing one hand- the carpace of the Demon-Steel drawing back to expose the bladed claws of the living weapon- Darkness swirled forming another Dark bomb in the palm of his hand then...

He dropped it- right into the Chariot.

"I don't suppose you can fly?"

Dakkon couldn't- which is why he pushed off with his legs and down onto the statues rubble- making a leap to try and sheild himself behind one of the larger peices.

[Workout Wonder]

Normally, I don’t respond to just one person’s post, but in this case I’m going to make an exception because of its impact on events.

The dark bomb rattled the insides of the chariot, causing the liviol cockpit to burst in an exploding mess of vodka bottles, wood shards and many of the other contents of the chariot. Kedx had leapt out in time, he had seen the dark bomb forming and knew there was no option but to leap out of the chariot. Wood and glass sprayed everywhere, and the vampire even lit some of the vodka to create giant streams of fire from where the alcohol had spilled. What less than an hour ago was a serene area in a posh part of Underwood had been turned into Corone’s biggest site of human misery.

Kedx had a lot to be proud for.

However, the vampire was not yet content. His chariot may have been destroyed, but his horses had just come back to life. The vampire set one free, free to be picked up by one of his demon bodyguards. The other, he climbed on the back of, knowing full well that he wasn’t the most adept when it came to horse riding. Still, it was the fastest way for Kedx to make a lasting impact on Underwood. His bottles of Vodka were gone, though he had managed to save a good number of the bullets. This left him with less explosive power, and any more destruction he was going to make, he was going to have to do by hand.

For a quick moment as he rode out from the square, Kedx contemplated ordering his demons to attack specific targets, but he didn’t figure that there would be any way that he could get the message off. It didn’t matter anyways, they were doing a better job than anticipated, running through the village resistance like a hot knife through butter. Carnage was everywhere, and only a small proportion of it was actually Kedx’s doing.

“Lets just hope the legend remembers better,” the vampire thought appreciatively. He was hurt now, but still powerful enough that he could keep up the fight against everyone. Still, Kedx knew he was going to have to avoid the white haired La’Fury with the dark bombs. It wasn’t that the half-breed was more powerful than he, but the fact remained that the man had just the kind of power that was dangerous in this kind of a melee situation; just enough offense to wreck the most well laid plans if given a lucky shot. On his horse though, there would be no way that the La’Fury kept up with him.

The fact was, Kedx didn’t realize it but the explosion had caused a piece of liviol wood to get embedded in his back. It was near his spine but far enough from his heart that it represented little immediacy in its threat. However, it was sapping Kedx of his healing power, and the vampire had no idea why the throbbing arrow wound in his arm had yet to heal.

Bitterly, Kedx knew he was going to have to make every moment count. He looked for the biggest, most exciting target in the city. A few seconds later, Kedx rode straight into the Underwood temple of Draconus, his vampiric horse breathing fire as they rode forwards.

[Run]

From beneath the dark his hood cast, July's eyebrows arched high, and his heartbeat rose in tempo. The maniac brandished an odd looking black object, gave him a speech that he himself could see giving someone else one day, and pointed the curious thing right at him. July had seen something like it before on a seperate pilgrimage to Kachuck, where a proud dwarf had showed off something called a "flint lock". Later in the day, when a human raiding party had rushed into the mining town, the flint lock had punched a sizable hole in one of the raiders with a great blast and a thick plume of smoke. While the flint lock and this strange thing didn't look quite the same, instinct told him they were linked...and that he need a shield. At that moment, as the vampire was saying the last words he expected the man in the red coat to hear, one of the drunks weilding a crossbow that had rushed out of the inn before him stood up, fear getting the better of the brashness all the alcohol had instilled in him. July's gloved hand snapped out, locking around the man's neck, and with a pained grunt, yanked the man in front of him.

The first bullet ripped through his meat shield's neck in a delightful spray of gore, and while losing some of it's power, still had enough momentum to clip the pyromancer's shoulder. The wound wasn't quite as deep as it should have been, but something in the bullet began to fizzle on his flesh and his shield's as well, an intense burning agony springing forward. As he looked at it, he saw his flesh slowly being stripped away...snapping his teeth shut against any kind of agonized scream, July rubbed his fingers together, hearing the brief hum of rapidly accelerating air particles, and a small life grew to life in his hand. He staggered against the man's weight as he slapped the flame against his wounded shoulder, intensifying the heat, dissolving whatever had been slowly eating him and cauterizing the wound. Then, the shield shook violently as five more blasts cracked in the air, bullets ripping through hard leather armor, driving through bone and muscle to embed themselves in a stomach, a lung, the heart. The man slumped, inarguably dead, and the two hundred some pounds proved too much for the thin pyromancer to bear, pitching over backwards, the body stealing away his breath as it slammed down onto his chest. For a while, July just laid there, wheezing and struggling to get his fight back...until he felt the heat of flames.

Grimacing, he pushed the useless man off of him, struggling to his feet. If he had family somewhere, they were now without a father and a husband. If he'd had dreams, hopes and ambitions, they were dissolving with his organs. A slow smile formed on his lips, satisfied that not only had he saved his own life, but brought the end of another and possibly ruin to the man's next of kin, the pyromancer sighed with content and finally cast his peircing cyan eyes on the source of heat. The gummy black corpse of another defender lay under a veil of fire, the flames having grown to magnificent proportions, setting it's teeth on a few nearby houses, stupidly made of straw. He wasn't certain what happened to his fireball after he'd thrown it at the maniac; his concentration had been broken by the wish to survive. Reaching towards the blaze, a patch of flames twice the size of himself broke away from the rest, arcing through the sky to hover over him. With a delighted cry, and a pump of his arms, the fire above him sucked in oxygen around it, billowing in size, three times it's original. Cursing briefly that a man that had just brought such an impressive sight on had to walk back up to the village square, where the figvht was now raging, July stomped forward, occasionally aiding the fire the lunatic had set by raising an arm to his side. As he did so, a tendril of flame snapped out from main body of it and caressed the roof of the nearest building, igniting it.

As he neared, odd looking soldiers began to rush into Underwood, in particular, four of them which cut off his path, brandishing sword and advancing upon the pyromancer. As they neared, he noticed their features, most notably their red eyes. 'Demons? Above ground? Never mind the mystery, idiot. They'll catch aflame as easily as a human being.' Stoic in the sight of his goal, July did not deter from his path, much less slow his pace in the slightest. Thrusting a hand forward, the rippling body of flame above his head spat out four bolts that fell upon the heads of the demons. Raising his other hand, he clenched it into a fist. The fire above him dimmed and lost some of it's breath as the flames that had fallen on the demons before him, now panicking and slapping at their burning helms, flared with life, flowing down their bodies and eating hair, cloth and in a moment, flesh. Scrambling to put out the rampant fire that was burning them alive, the demons took off helter skelter, opening a path for July.

Entering into the square, the fire that hovered overhead brushed the sides of two houses, enkindling them. People rushed out of the building as black smoke poured from open windows of the upper story, but July ignored them. Beneath the dark of his hood, his eyes were set on the maniac. 'I can't believe I missed the mask on his face. It's not just the murders and arson that give him style, it's that mask. And it's too much on him. On me, it'd look good. After I combust his lungs, I'll take that.' Wordlessly, he thrust an arm forward, and an arc branched off from the body above him, sizzling in the cool night air as it raced across the square to strike the masked lunatic. With another gesture, more of the flame lashed down, though this mass chose to sweep across a six foot expanse in an attempt to catch any would be escapees. However, his flames touched nothing, as the maniac had saddled up onto one of his freed horses and simply raced past, going in the direction of the temple of Draconus, leaving the pyromancer to fume in the midst of his failed offense.


"That's it, damn it!" July shook his fists above head, and the flames around him as they settled back to the ground, his concentration ruined again, showing his discontent as they flared bright with life, circling around him in a torrent of broiling heat. The pyromancer screamed in wordless frustration, and stomped his boot hard on the cracked cobblestones of the square. For a moment, it was nothing but a hooded man breathing heavily in a ring of fire, and then came the rumbling. The tremor was minor, but ominous, and in another second, steam began to rise from the stones. sweat dribbled off his chin and wet lips, twisted into a grin so pleased with itself that one would have thought he'd actually succeeded in killing the maniac. Then, the crafted rock snapped and cracked in two, and from the hole punched in the soil and bedrock of Althanas came a viscous glowing liquid. July crouched, holding his hands out and wiggling his fingers eagerly. "Oh yeah, come to daddy. I loves my lava." The liquid was almost too hot to bear being near, but the pyromancer persisted as a fiar sized puddle of it pooled onto the stones of the square. Raising both hands in unison in a swift motion, the lava rose in a spire and then formed a smooth, featureless sphere above him. Rubbing his hands togather, July let out a laugh not unlike a cackle, and set off swiftly towards the temple the maniac had charged towards.
((Teaches me not to read closely, I didn't even know the chariot was gone. Fixed, at any rate...))

[Djakara]

Djakara had just made it into a house by the time the chariot exploded. The young refugee had managed to find a house that had mostly avoided the burning and was only sprayed with a few stray bullets. Considering that a welcome rarity, the boy made his way in, only to find a weeping mother holding two scared young children in her lap as she shuddered at the sight of her dead husband. Not knowing what to do or say, Djakara just hung his head in silence.

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed. “But I’m trying to fight him.”

The mother looked at the young boy with tear filled eyes of sorrow. Her two children looked up at Djakara, but they were too overwhelmed by fear to feel much of anything else. They shrunk as he came nearer.

“I’m not here to hurt you…” he promised. “Just to survive.” That was all Djakara had wanted to do all along.

With tender eyes that seemed like they couldn’t stand to hear even a single contrary word, the new widow looked up at Djakara and pleaded with him. “Help my children…” she begged. “Please…”

Djakara’s face fell. He didn’t want to say no, but he could barely survive on his own. “How…?” he asked.

“The Peaceful Promenade,” the widow replied, her voice getting stronger as she continued. “It’s on the other side of town, that monster and his demons haven’t gotten to it yet. Please… it’s only a matter of time before they come for the house…”

Djakara as silent for a bit. He didn’t know what to say. Given the stakes involved in surivival, Djakara knew he couldn’t afford to be burdened with a couple of kids under five years old. “What if I need to run, or they stumble?” he thought. “Or worse yet, have to fight a demon.”

The boy was just about to refuse when he caught the widow’s eye. He could tell she sensed his reluctance, and her entire body began to shake with grief.

“Alright!” he said. “Come on…”

The two kids looked at each other.

“I said come on…” he said with gritted teeth that suggested he had little tolerance for their fears. Times of survival couldn’t afford to be emotional.

“Just go…” their mother demanded.

With that, Djakara Fraye slipped out the back of the house, two five year olds in tow.

[Letho]

Even though there were instances in which Letho Ravenheart could endure some wrongs that had been done to him, on average the bulky Marshal had a rather short fuse. Regardless of whether it was just a minute annoyance such as a pebble in his shoe or a major one such as dishonorable clotheshorse that tried to woo Myrhia, Letho’s reaction was more often then not brisk and merciless. The only variation in his reactions was the amount of anger they elicited. Some made him cool off sooner then he got to a proper working temperature to bash some faces. Some poked at him like an old wound would when the weather changed, making him growl in rage.

Kedx was one of the old wounds.

And though plenty of time passed from the events that occurred in the underground realm of Haidia, Kedx did something that was deemed unforgivable by Letho’s code of honor. The vampire joined forces with Myrhia, himself and an odd elven pair made of the man who claimed to be none other then the legendary Damon Kaosi and a peculiar winged woman. He even came up with a decent course of action that would allow them to take over the citadel packed with rebels. The only thing that Kedx held back from his group was the betrayal that was written between the spaces of every word he spoke. So when their plan finally unfolded, the vampire not only turned his back on them, but instead stabbed at their own. In the mayhem that unfolded, both Myrhia and Sevviel, Damon’s companion, nearly lost their lives, while Kedx fled with tail between his legs, shortened by an arm by the legendary elf. And even though the plan turned out to be efficient and the fortress fell, Kedx’s betrayal was not forgotten.

It was no surprise that, when he received information of Kedx’s reappearance, Letho welcomed the chance for some retribution with open arms. One of the Ranger’s informants spilled the beans after enough coin was thrown at his feet, speaking of a masked man that spent enough money in the Bazaar to arm a small army. It was rather clear that Kedx was up to no good, and even if he wasn’t, the relentless Marshal would still get his vengeance. Turncoats such as the vampire were scum that made mercenaries look like the most loyal warriors, and Letho was determined to rid the world of Kedx and his foul influence.

With the amount of blare that the treacherous bloodsucker made as he traveled to Underwood, it was ridiculously easy to track him, especially once he entered the Ranger’s territory; Concordia forest. Given the fact that the muscular swordsman did this tracking from the saddle of his pegasus, soaring through the sky like an eagle and following the brand new livol chariot with his eyes, Kedx practically had no place to hide. And by the time the darkness overtook the azure of the sky, turning the sea of green into an endless hollow blackness and making tracking quite a feat, there was little doubt that the vampire was heading towards Underwood. Letho followed at safe distance, eventually descending on the roof of a church and concealing himself within the bell tower from which he had a clear overview of the capitol of the Concordia barony.

Shortly after Kedx’s arrival to the square, havoc occurred. The vampire unleashed it upon the citizens of the woodsman town, blundering around like a lunatic with bottle in one hand and pistol in the other. When locals started to fall to his madness like dominos, Letho wanted to act, jump into the fray the way he always did, but the locals seemed to be quite a tough nut to crack. They rebelled, they fought back. Swords clanged, magic flashed like fireworks in the clear night, and before long, Kedx was riding one of his horses vehemently, exiting the fiery chasm that he evoked by his senseless belligerency. Unfortunately for him, he was riding straight down the road that led to the church where the Marshal found a rather appropriate sniping point.

Taking the Lawmaker off his shoulder and checking the chamber once, Letho took a kneeling position and lined up his gunblade with the rider. It was a difficult job controlling the titanic, six-foot firearm now that he was deprived of his inhumane strength, but the bulky man reckoned he could tame it for one shot. Because one shot was all that it took. The front sight was lined up with the back one, both aimed at the chest of the vampire, and the blackened heart that probably ceased to beat years ago. However, just as he was about to take the shot, the bell behind his back rang so loudly that it nearly deafened the man. Needless to say, Kedx darted down the road unharmed, but unfortunately for him, he entered straight into the church below.

Letho, still semi-deafened by the din of the bell, holstered his gunblade before grabbing a hold of one of the ropes that descended all the way to the foot of the tower. With his hand gauntleted, the Marshal slid down at remarkable speed, landing in the main room of the temple with rustic grace. "Remember me, traitor?" he asked, unslinging his gunblade and steadying it on the forearm of his left arm. "Time to reap what you sow in the depths of Haidia!"

KA-BLAM!!!

[DakkonRyck]

Ow...

That phrase is becoming popular with you.

Dakkon had felt fairly proud plan went that well... and it would have had he remebered the bottles the man had been throughing. He didn't make cover in time and the resulting explosion blasted him with a wave of heat and enough concusive force to toss him elsewhere- he hit a large shard of rubble the wrong way and a sharp almost paralzying pain crept through his body. He was more or less aware of hoof beats which where leaving the square... the vampire was getting away and he could not catch him.

Dakkon worked himself slowly to his feet flexing his fingers and rotating his arms to check for feeling. He had most of it but was slightly numbed but not enough that he couldn't feel the shards of glass running up one side of his left leg.

No time for first aid- he brushed his hand down once quickly and removed most of the shards.

Ow- ow- ow- and ow again. Bloody hell that freaking HURT! I need a drink.

Well... you seem a little concused- but not out of the fight yet. So what now Dakkon? Do you try to follow the vampire with a hurt leg or deal with the Demons attacking all the people in the square.

That was the question to be asked it seemed- heaving himself up to his feet he watched a demon tearing through the court yard on the vampire horse. He stared for a long moment in consideration. Hmm...

Oh hell no...

This should be intresting.

Dakkon steeled himself doing his best to ignore the pain as he ran towards the mounted demon soon having a Chakram in each hand. He needed to be careful if he missed he'd have to resort to an Astral blast or close combat. And most times close combat with a mounted combatant was insane at best. He had no need for any special skills this time both arms swung in turn- throwing the cirular bladed weapons towards there target.

He'd thrown when the demon had stopped to turn away from a burning building. The blades arced dangerously- one coming from each side. So when he road left to avoid the first- the second hit him in the side of the head and bringing him slowly slumping to the left side until he fell off the stead.

I dear so hope he can't control this horse- or else this is not going to go well.

He stopped only long enough to pick up his chakram and dig the other out of a wooden post before attempting to mount the vampiric stead- and steer it towards the direction the supposed vampire had taken off. He wanted to catch up... and if the stead didn't respond he'd force it with something that always got an animal moving.

Fear- a little painful astral flames would get the creature moving.

And if THAT didn't work- provided the beast didn't throw him off and kill him. Hell he'd walk.

One can only hope for the best.

[Workout Wonder]

Kedx heard Letho’s cry, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. The vampire rode into the middle of a meeting of worship, the dragon priest had been praying along with a town that had suddenly developed a much more intense interest in religion. Where there had once been a group of skeptics, the fear of Kedx had rendered the people of Underwood so completely stupefied that they were willing to accept answers from anywhere, be it the god of the dragons.

The vampire looked on lewdly, as if he was getting a perverse pleasure out of the shock that everyone in the temple felt now that he had interrupted their place of sanctuary. Letho’s bullet screamed through the air, hitting the vampire in the back, but not stopping him. Kedx convulsed, and a few drops of blood fell out from his back, but the vampire did not die. Instead, he scowled and looked on at the group of people who were suddenly in awe of his destructively awesome power.

“You should know by now that there is no escape,” Kedx said. He pointed his revolver right in the face of the minister. “Set fire to the church…” Kedx demanded. For dramatic emphasis, the vampire commanded that his steed set forward to one of the pews. “Take your damn torch and set the whole damn place on fire, or else I will shoot you dead where you stand and do it myself.”

The minister shuddered. He was a man of his god, unwilling to do anything to desicrate his place of worship, even in a case of fear. Kedx loaded his gun with an acid bullet and laughed as the pious man dissolved.

“The person who sets the church on fire will be the only one who doesn’t suffer such a horrible death,” Kedx said.

Almost immediately, all the newfound acolytes of the temple of Draconus rushed to obey Kedx’s orders.

[Djakara]

As Djakara moved back out into the chaotic city, he was amazed at how much everything had changed. The very streets seemed as if they were dyed red with blood. Kedx may have been a bully targeting the weak, but the demon soldiers were anything but. They were ruthless, targeting killing machines that went after anything that moved. Now, Djakara hoped at the very least to stay out of their radar, especially as long as he had the children with him.

However, the young refugee knew that the chances of that happening were very slim. The demons had managed to do a number to the majority of the town's guards, and even the Corone Marshalls who had come to put an end to the violence. A few demons certainly had fallen, but Djakara knew there were enough out there, many of whom had taken to hurting civilians because there were no more worthy adversaries left alive. The two five year olds would be particularly appetizing targets for a sadist.

Thus, Djakara moved as quickly as he could. He held the hands of both little children and practically dragging them with him as he moved. They sniffled, but Djakara didn’t pay much attention. He wondered about their mother, who had remained contented to stay in the house. Was it that she felt obligated to die along with her husband, or was she just so scared that she couldn’t leave. In either case, Djakara couldn’t escape a bitter feeling that it should have been her and not he who was risking his life to save these kids from a particularly gruesome fate.

They had managed to almost get to the Peaceful Promenade before they encountered any kind of trouble. A group of demons had set up a road block of sorts less than twenty meters from the Promenade, almost as if they had figured they would lay siege to the tavern once the rest of the battle was completed. They had sealed off the route, not letting anyone in, or letting anyone go. One of them, armed with a crossbow, was taking aim at anyone who wandered through.

Djakara immediately hid behind the remains of a nearby building. He was within the range of his bow, and that meant he was most likely within the range of the demon’s crossbow as well. For a moment, he contemplated trying to run over rooftops again, but there was no clear pathway to the Promenade and with all the destruction to the buildings, Djakara didn’t know which ones could support his weight. Plus, with the added burden of the kids, Djakara knew he didn’t have many options. Fighting the demons was certainly illogical if he wanted to survive, but it was the only thing he could do other than abandoning them.

“Okay… what the hell,” he figured out loud. While the refugee hadn’t wanted to take any more responsibilities than necessary, this was a case where he genuinely didn’t have a choice. There was no way that he felt he could abandon the kids, their faces were filled with too much fright for that. Djakara knocked an arrow into the bow he had stolen from the vampire and prepared for the battle with the demons. He looked over them again, there were just three of them, and if he shot his arrows well, he might be able to take one of them out before they came to him. Of course, he was still a poor shot, and he only had three arrows with him.

“No matter what happens, stay here as long as I’m alive,” Djakara told the children. He didn't wait for their response. That said, the boy began to fire all his arrows in rapid succession, hoping that he might catch the demons unaware and hit at least one of them with a crippling blow.

[Arsenic Ruin]

His soft steps took him to Corone; his blonde hair pulled back, katana stashed at his hip tucked into the obi sash at his waist. Everywhere he went it seemed he gained a bit of attention for his way of dressing, the flowing robes, sleeves to big for his hands, white tabi (toe socks), and waraji (straw sandals). It was a strange ensemble, but he must give his instructor and father credit where it was due, this was quite the comfortable battle attire. Not only did it help in creating a sensible distraction from drawing the weapon at hand, the sleeves themselves were quite stylish. The outfit as a whole worked well with his already owned tabi, and waraji flowing together like a series of beautifully moon lit waves. It created a firm grasp on maneuverability, and with the training he endured it added him in reaching peak speeds by being light on the body itself. Aside from that Arsenic just felt it looked cool.

But as he passed into Corone, he visited a previous stopping spot that held its own memories. Not to far between the Concordia and Underwood there was a home to a ghastly fellow that never gave his name to Arsenic, but they did share in the meeting of a ghostly woman that almost took the young heroes soul. Even at the thought of the memory Arsenic couldn’t help but shiver remembering the event he saw his own weakness and it pained him, but with each new happening in life comes a valuable lesson, don’t let your guard down. As he walked down that dusty path, his hands were tucked in to the billowing sleeves of his kimono, craning his head back to look into the sky it was peaceful, and like the old saying there is always a calm before the storm. In this case the storm was well over due, a light caught his eye, and the ringing of a bullet on the acoustics of the forest.

The nearest city by his calculation was Underwood, and that was where he had to go. Bullets were never a good sign of anything, and where there was a sign of evil there had to be a firm hand to bat it down. His upper body bent forward as he raced towards the city, sleeves billowing backwards as he took to the under-brush and trees cutting through the forest to which he said a small prayer of apology. His legs pumped, propelling him forward faster, and faster light was beginning to catch his eye, and the gruesome scene he happened to walk in on filled him with nothing but dread.

His woodland breakthrough put him right on the outskirts of the town. The temple was to his right, and the square was to his left. Man and demon dueled it out, but none of the wretched monsters looked like they were the ones that created this ruckus, and blood shed. So the katana wielding “funny dressed man” – as he was called in many cities, and towns by children even adults in some cases- stepped towards the square putting him not to far from the temples entrance, and no sooner had his feet touched the blood stained soil, did the first attack come well really three attacks pious demons attacking from the outer region of the chaos’ majority. They came from behind; the moon added him in realizing their movement. Shadows danced behind him with weapons drawn, it would only be fair for him to join the hearty extension of the invitation of death. Their swords were raised high, and they came down fast, but his right foot was slid backwards, bending on his left leg, then shifting his weight to his right assuming a front stance which prevented his head from meeting any of the swords.

Arsenic’s right hand gripped the cloth and cord hilt of his katana, hips twisted full throttle pulling the weapon from the ebony sheathe to strike in a horizontal slash from left to right, into the sides of the brutes and split them clean in half. For the most part the attack was successful with much tugging and tearing of course nothing like this came easy. However, he discounted on the hiding forth brute that brought his knee towards Arsenic’s head, with his weight shifted for the swing, and his weapon already out to his right side, he barely managed to block, his body sailed back through the door of the temple. Hitting the ground hard skidding into one of the pews and knocking one of the fire-starting acolytes to the ground who softened his fall and landed him right between the Vampire and Letho.

Rushed to stand he found himself looking down the barrel of the gun blade, his eyes gazed across the way to see the victim of the bullets strike. Apparently he wasn’t in the best of places as he soon realized, hands pressed against the floor of the temple as he staggered slightly still dazed from the knee of the brute outside. Who tore his way in standing behind the man at the door, this only made the situation worse Arsenic gave a pained sigh.


You all call this a coincidence; I call it a pain in the proverbial ass.

[Artifex Felicis]

There was currently only a single constant that Leon knew would always be true, no matter which continent he was on or what was going on. A good night's sleep was better than nearly anything else when it came to relaxing after a hard day's work. It was no surprise, especially as late as it was to find the cat boy curled up into a small ball on a bed, often with a blanket thrown over his body. He was by no means a light sleeper, but he had slept through his fair share of excitement before. A loud conch shell, on the other hand, was something that awoke him almost instantly, springing him from bed. He looked around, expecting a fire, but was surprised to see something else the cause of the shell. A strange man, circling the town square in a chariot pulled by two horses.

He groaned, going back to the bed. He curled up, putting his head against the pillow and scrunching his ears to try and block the sound. If it was a fire, then it was somewhere else, and thus not his problem. His prayers were answered quickly enough, but that was only for a moment. A gunshot rang throughout the court side, and for the second time that night Leon woke with a start. He rushed to the window of the inn he was staying, clad only the loose pants he was sleeping. A rather embarrassing situation when he was a kid often made his dress to sleep.

Despite everything that had happened, was happening, and was about to, a grin came to the boy's head. Earlier in the day he had a message sent to him, something about Corin coming to Underwood. Corin was once a friend of his, though a better term would have been friends-of-a-friend. It was rather hard to like the man. He was brash, arrogant, stupid, hypocritical, and on several occasions Leon was sure Corin tried to kill him. He could recognize the cat man's body from anywhere, even under the huge cloak that obscured it as he began to mercilessly kill innocents in the square. It wasn't so much Leon didn't like the man, but had entertained the possibility of killing him several times after he heard of the man's exploits. Actually getting to and being the hero at the same time would be perfect, as bad as the circumstances were.

He opened the window as resistance started to form, climbing down the side of the inn quickly, each handhold and foothold secure on a pipe or another window. The cat boy dropped to the ground, keeping low. As poetic as it would be to stand the man down, a bullet would be the only thing of Corin's he'd touch on that course of action. He kept low, moving as quickly and silently as possible between the buildings towards the market. For lack of anything better to do, the cat boy had spent a good amount of time in the market, eyeing a couple of the items in the stores windows. He hurried as quickly as he could, simply leaping and barreling his way through the window of the shop like a cannonball. Glass shards gave way to his form like water, flowing over his back and front and all around him. It was cheap stuff, and he had some light scratches, but nothing major. He smiled, searching the shop in the weak light that he had.

The row of houses behind him began to alight, brightening up the shop and the theif inside like a spotlight. The cat boy hurried, pleased with the quick turn of events. He quickly found what he was looking over, admiring it for a moment before putting it on. It was a jacket, nearly identical to the one the boy already owned. What made this particular jacket different from Leon's red one, aside from the black material and blue flames, was the weightless metal plates hidden within the coat. It had cost nearly five thousand gold pieces, but it didn't stop the cat boy's desire. He left the shop, adjusting the coat quickly as people began to leave on the street he was on. It was getting close to being an actual riot. Leon stood straight, using his height to try and see somewhat over the crowd as he began to move against it. From the sound of the battle going on, it was getting close to the Peaceful Promenade. It also helped with the frenzied cries exclaiming where Corin was.

He stumbled out of the crowd, breathing hard. For all the boy's ideas about it, the sheer carnage was staggering. The great statue in the square was gone, many of the houses were on fire, and there were a good amount of men going around helping Corin. There were mangled bodies that mothers couldn't have recognized, limbs strewn about, and the feeling that hell had come onto earth. The boy snarled, resisting the urge to slash at the figure he saw riding in the distance. He composed himself, ducking low and moving up the side of the streets. The fire had yet to spread there, and afforded some comfort from the heat that came in waves with the flames. He came to the peaceful promenade, or at least within sight of it. He was close enough to realize that the men helping Corin were demons, and not men at all. It was poetic, demons bringing hell to Underwood.

He considered waiting for Corin there, but something unexpected changed his plans. Arrows began to fly at the demons, one after a another without much attention to what they hit. Leon smiled, knowing a golden opportunity when he saw it. He sprung forward, claws extended with a deathly soft whisper. He leapt into the air silently, landing on the closest demon. Leon and the demon went crashing into the next one. An arrow had pierced the third before Leon and his prey hit the ground. As fast as they could blink, Leon's claws were working, jammed into the closer one's head to make short work of the demon. The other had the same fate as Leon's first victim, moving with a speed and efficiency that was scary. Leon rose, breathing hard. He went to the third demon, kicking the man's head as hard as his legs would allow. A sickening crunch gave way to the cat boy's foot, and the demon stopped his movements. The boy stood, waiting in front of the tavern, tail flickering from left to right. He waited there in plain sight. The Promenade was the only place that was yet to be ransacked by Corin. Soon he'd come, and Leon would stop him here.

[Letho]

((Shyam, I bunnied Kedx’s horse a little bit, making it breathe fire on Letho. I hope it’s ok with you. If not, let me know and I’ll edit.))

Vampires.

Letho Ravenheart knew quite a lot about these bloodsucking nightprowlers. After all, up until recently, he used to be one, infected by the disease that worked like an eternal engine, prolonging the lifespan and guzzling down warm blood as fuel. It was a wretched existence, but one that came with its set of benefits as well. One of those benefits Kedx inadvertently displayed about a second after the roar of the gunblade deafened nearly half of the pious congregation. The bullet struck him in the back, but while even the strongest of men would be coughing their last coughs after such an injury, the vampire merely brushed it off with a shudder and a wince. And then, as if he didn’t have a thumb sized piece of lead lodged in his back, he went to causing more mischief.

He was truly deranged, Letho concluded as he pushed and pulled on the Winchester reloading mechanism, ejecting a spent cartridge and setting up a fresh one. There was no other way to explain this erratic, senseless behavior. During the years the Marshal spent as a wanderer, a mercenary and most recently, a lawman, Letho met more then a fair share of vile men, but most of the time, they had a reason for doing what they did. More often then not, it was a twisted reason, an excuse with which they tried to justify their rebellion against the law. But Kedx seemed to lack even that faulty excuse. One moment he was setting the main square aflame, killing people just because he could, and the next he was trampling down religious folk and setting the temple on fire. In short, he was a mad man, he was on the loose and he had to be stopped. It was a rather lucky fact that this fight for the common good coincided with Letho’s revenge.

He would’ve shot the masked lunatic again as soon as his gunblade was reloaded and then probably again until the bastard was as dead as a doornail, but by the time he was ready to fire, a blonde boy was standing before him, looking at the blackened void of the gun mouth like a rabbit caught in the headlights. “Out of the way, kid!” the Marshal commanded in his raspy voice, lowering his titanic weapon and brushing past the lad. “Get out while you still can. There’s a back exit behind the altar.”

By then, Kedx used his intimidation to coerce the acolytes into setting the church ablaze; nothing quite changed a person’s mind like watching a man dissolve to a pile of goo. With the amount of oil and incense that spread a sickly-sweet scent throughout the temple, all it took is several overturned vessels and broken porcelain lamps before the flames started to devour the intricate ornaments and rich tapestries. In the center of this fiery chaos, riding on a steed that looked as if it rode from the hell itself, Kedx gazed over the destruction with what looked like satisfaction in his eyes.

“He doesn’t even recognize me. He lost it completely,” Letho realized once he noticed that the vampire wasn’t even registering him as a threat. Kedx from back in Haidia maybe was a traitor and a vicious one at that, but there was some amount of wretched reason within him. This Kedx that stood before him was riding with a deathwish. And it was a wish that the Marshal was more then willing to fulfill.

Kedx’s horse had other ideas though. The beast seemed to have hellfire within its bowels. The flames were prominent in its eyes and once Letho got close enough, they gushed out of the steed’s mouth, incinerating everything in its path. They would’ve burned the swordsman to a crisp too had he not brought his dragonscale gauntlet up, effectively blocking the flames with the enchantment of his apparel. Unfortunately, he was unable to block all of it, and the flame tongues licked over his other arm, forcing him to drop the Lawmaker and shield his face. By the time the horse was done with its dragon breath, Letho’s left arm was steaming, his hand feeling as if it was in an oven.

Seeing the horse as a larger threat currently, the bulky Marshal jumped over a pair of overturned pews, brandishing the adamantine bastard sword in the process. In one fluid motion, he moved sideways, bringing his blade in an upward slash that was aimed to decapitate the hellish mount. Around them, the heat was starting to get unbearable, the crackle of the burning wood doused by the screams of those who sought a way out of the ring of fire. It wouldn’t be long until the roof came collapsing around their ears.

[Run]

In all his years, July Nusquam had never been happier.

As he rushed down the path to the temple, flames bloomed suddenly in the distance, and a chaotic chorus of screams sounded out above the crackling roar of the carnage enveloping Underwood. Two figures came rushing down the path, their features lost in a shawl of fire. Halfway to the pyromancer, they gave up their struggle as their voices dimmed and they sunk to their knees, falling to the path like all the dead weight they had been in life. July paused before he continued, staring down at the burning corpses, the orb of lava moving slowly around his head, like an orbiting moon. As it passed his face, the light of it cast aside the shadows and framed his face in an evil red glow. His eyes were wide with excitement, the corners of his lips curved up into a slight smile. Beneath his feet, as they should be, the corpses burned, and he drew in a deep breath of it, licking his lips. Then, the orb passed around out of his sight, and he frowned. There were other things to be done.

When he finally arrived at the temple, it was slowly being gutted by an eager conflagration, set by that evening's congregation. His smile had returned in time, the closer he'd gotten, his nostrils filled with the stink of thick black smoke and sizzling flesh. The blackened skull of a dead man, sticky with it's own melted skin, greeted him with the smile of a dead birthday clown. July was so overcome with delight that he struggled not to hug himself, settling on slapping a hand against his chest and taking a deep breath of the smell of death by immolation. The fearful worshipers scrambled to catch more and more aflame, afraid of the bite of a bullet against the back of their skulls. A blond woman, the flames licking dangerously close to her gold locks, leaned down to shove a torch into a pile of records. With a laugh and a gesture form the pyromancer, the flames from the torch sprang backwards, rebelling against her direction and washed over her face, setting to her hair like a starved castaway with ribs like xylophones on anything living in sight.

Aside from the masked maniac, there was one person here in the middle of the burning temple that July recognized, though mostly from rumors alone. He hefted a bulky rifle, affixed with a long dehlar blade, and voiced his intense displeasure of the maniac's presence. Then, July clapped his hands over his ears, cussing loudly, both flesh and linen doing little to muffle the monstrous roar of the legendary do-gooder's rifle. July looked on with shock as the maniac was struck by the firearm's inarguably large slug, shuddered...and kept moving. "And still, it moves," July whispered in amazement through cracked, dry lips aching for a drop of hydration, his tongue stumbling around a mouth turned sour with dry spittle. Another smoke laced breath scratched at his pained throat as he watched the maniac continue to act as though he'd never taken the shot.

The look on his face was one of adoration.

July was young, and he still had many years before him to do the things he wanted. To kill certain people. To rule the world. To be the power supreme above all these doddering idiots. But to ascend those steps, he would have to kill anyone that stood in his way, and at this moment, the maniac was presenting himself as someone greater. He's power was past even considering the pyromancer a rival, and suddenly, that adoration escalating into want. July wanted to feel the euphoria as this man's flesh melted away to reveal the skleleton inside. Directing the orb that hung above his head, the lava sloshed forward, bunching up on itself before unraveling into one long ribbon of of molten rock. It swirled around the mounted maniac, then, with a twist of the pyromancer's wrist, wound it's spiral tight to catch him in the middle of it.

[Izvilvin]

The fire was hot and it was already spreading, climbing up tapestries and setting the roof to burn.

Izvilvin had been around the fight for some time, and had been watching with a stoic expression pressed on his face. He wanted to jump in but couldn't find the right opportunity. Now, he bolted for the church. He dodged obstacles and leapt over debris until he burst through the door, spotting Kedx at the end of the pathway between pews.

Letho was there too, and the Drow recognized him. Knowing the powerful Marshal was about solidified his belief that the man could be stopped. He drew two sai smoothly, and when he got close enough, Izvilvin leapt so that one foot couldland on a pew, then he launched himself into the air toward Kedx.

He came down in front of him, slashing across the vampire's body with each sai. One left, one right, in an attempt to tear his chest and gut open. The strange weapon Kedx held didn't register with the Drow at that moment.

[Arsenic Ruin]

“Out of the way, kid!” The Gunman spoke as he lowered his large weapon, after going through the humdrum motions of reloading another cartridge and popping the old one out. The man’s raspy voice was laced with the undertones of experience, battled hardened, and just what Arsenic needed to wake him up off his daze. Arsenic backed away as the Gunman brushed his way past the young warrior. His head still throbbed with his forearms and sword hand. His feet spread apart as he saw the acolytes continuing with what was apparently the man up front, Kedx’s orders. He watched as the Gunman stepped carefully forward to get a better look at the antagonist of this tale, while Arsenic followed behind not to close but just far enough to catch the worlds slung next.

“Get out while you still can. There’s a back exit behind the altar.”

Arsenic scoffed, tightening his grip on his sword for re-assurance and just as he was about to sprint forward, to take that last fatal swing at what he deemed his enemy. The hellish steed unleashed searing flames from its belly, Arsenic bent his upper body backwards reflexively bringing his free left arm up over his face, looking from the shadow of his arm just in time to see the gun fall.

Before he could reach for it though, the steed had to be slain. A step back lead to him taking stance, but before he could even move, the head of the animal rolled off it’s neck to the ground. The Marshal stood there to the side of the hell beast, sword drawn but the gun wasn’t even noticed. At that moment Arsenic noticed another come up through the door way, taking a hop back, this time prepared to due combat with the man who now sits on the dying steed. His blade rested at his side in his right hand, as the wafting scents of the temple itself flowed into his nostrils; the burning began.

His body rose on the ball of his right foot, which was placed in front of him. Then he pushed from it making a direct bee-line towards the gun on the ground. His upper body subjugated into a bend forward doubt raced through his mind, but there was no turning back now that he started to run. His legs peddled harder, faster, as he struggled not to be slowed down for the lack of unheated oxygen. Soon it would become hard to even breathe, and here he was running hard which would lead to heavy breathing later. His weight shifted to the right, bounding upon pews that would add to him gaining height for his next strike. Logical reasoning dictated that he would have to kill the masked lunatic.

Shooting from the top of a pew towards the masked lunatic, his katana brought out from his side towards the neck of this servant of evil. His left hand aiding in the slash of his right hand, the strike prepped to rip right between the coils of lava in passing. His upper body pushed forward, just as he passed he brought his right foot down gracefully standing on one foot at the edge of the door way. He stood next to the lava wielder looking forward to the carnage outside keeping himself poised weapon placed at his side, not yet sheathed incase the battle wasn’t yet over. As to his opponent’s position there may have been some chance of escape, but with the coiling lava aiming to catch him in the middle, and the slash from Arsenic the chance of survival seemed slim. Even if evaded Letho still stood at the ready.

[Christina Bredith]

No sooner had Christina challenged the demons than the battle had begun. The hulking brutes were certainly not the type to mince words, but it was just as well because the woman had no intention of letting them do so for much longer if they were. There was no doubt that either one of them possessed strength far greater than hers, but for that advantage Christina had two of her own: speed and size. While one strike from one of their massive weapons – one had another warhammer, and the second wielded a bastard sword which looked as big as a young tree – would instantly end the fight for Christina, she figured it would be easy enough to avoid that outcome.

The great demons lumbered forward, and the blonde decided to focus her attention on the greatsword-wielding one first, as it would be the most suitable target for her plan. Its weapon came in an overhead diagonal cleave aimed at tearing her from shoulder to hip, but a quick step to the side allowed her to avoid the attack. Her footing momentarily faltered from the mini-quake that followed the massive blade’s plummet into the ground, but she simply had to regain her composure because that was the opening she needed.

The first rule of fighting any undead or demon is simple: destroy the head! Christina was poised to do exactly that as she actually leapt onto the flat of the creature’s blade and began ascending towards its head, a good two or three feet above her. The weapon was so massive that it provided ample if slightly precarious footing. Seconds passed as her stunned opponent tried to free its weapon from the stony earth, but by that point it was too late: Christina had climbed to the top and thrust Rosebite’s hungry blade through its neck, spewing blackened blood backward and forward all over the ground.

Manoeuvring from that point on was surprisingly difficult, akin to leaping from a stone pillar as it crumbled into the abyss. First, the demon grunted and fell to one knee; the sudden jolt caused Christina to stumble, losing her footing on its broad shoulders and scrambling to stay on top of it. She knew another second or two would see the creature back on the ground, likely throwing her off as well and making her an easy target for the remaining demon’s warhammer. Thinking quickly, she knew what needed to be done.

“Extend, Rosebite!”

The second rune on Rosebite’s flat, sky blue in colour, flickered to life. The blade exploded with energy, separating into five sections joined together by a tether of blue energy. Christina lashed out with the weapon; it connected with the second demon’s short neck and coiled around once it had nowhere else to go. By the time the first demon’s body fell, the woman was safely attached to the second. With a swift kick to gather momentum, she propelled herself forward, using the whip-like Rosebite as a tether. Her body made a half-turn around the second demon’s body once before releasing, but that was enough – its blade had born through the beast’s black flesh and blood was already trickling down its neck and shoulders. The dull, lidless gaze in its eyes was the only sign of its death as it and Christina both landed on the ground.

“Sweet dreams.” The warrior twisted her weapon briefly and it returned to its normal shape before she darted down the road and towards the central square.

* * *

The trail of destruction towards the Temple of Draconus had been easy enough to follow. Kedx was no longer in the town square, but a trail of smoldering corpses practically painted the way towards the dragon-worshippers’ lair, and Christina made her way in that direction at full speed. She had been distracted enough by the feline’s cronies as it was, and she wasn’t about to let him take any more lives. Not a single additional life would be lost tonight if she had anything to say about it.

The Temple of Draconus was already ablaze by the time Christina arrived; the holy oils and decorative tapestries inside were little more than catalysts for the raging inferno. Christina couldn’t let such a little thing stop her, though. Kedx would survive the fire, that much she knew – otherwise why would he have created it in the first place? He didn’t strike her as the type for genocide-suicide. No, the fight had to be going on inside still.

Sure enough, Kedx was trapped inside now, with a venerable throng of warriors bearing down on him from all angles. What surprised Christina the most, though, was that she recognized some of them.

“M—Marshal!” Letho was being borne down by one of the horses that Christina swore she had taken out of commission with her sonic sable – but wait, was it breathing fire now? And who was that, leaping off a pew at Kedx? “Izzy!” And that half-drow in the kimono – it couldn’t be, could it? Arsenic, the boy she forged a semi-alliance with in the Cage?

But the time for reunions could wait. In the middle of that sea of familiar faces was the feline, a pillar of lava rising around him and threatening to reduce him to ashes. Christina knew this was the perfect opportunity for her to land a crippling blow of her own. “Everyone brace yourselves! Rumble, Rosebite!”

Rosebite half-twirled in the woman’s hand until she was gripping it backwards, with its blade pointed toward the ground. With crushing force, Christina slammed the tip of the weapon into the floor of the temple, and at that very moment an amber rune-gem, third from the tip, sparkled to life. The reason for her warning was immediately evident: the ground around her for a large radius immediately rumbled as if an earthquake was passing through. While not excessively powerful in its own right, the quake was certainly enough to make a mess of anyone’s balance if they were not prepared.

The most important reason for her attack was seen just a moment later. Amidst that rumbling ground, the marble floor of the cathedral behind Kedx suddenly cracked, and a multitude of thorny vines emerged, twisting around each other to form a large, impaling pillar aimed directly for the feline. As it neared the spiralling lava created by July, the vines caught fire but remained on course, pushing right through in their attempt to carve a hole right through the vampire’s chest. Christina hoped that, surrounded by the molten rock, her deranged opponent wouldn’t even be able to see the secondary attack coming at him from behind.

[DakkonRyck]

Dakkon had managed to get the mount to head in the direction he wished- vampire or not it was still a horse after all. That being said it didn’t go quite as well as he expected having only made it about half way to the church when the horse took a mighty blow from a massive war hammer. The stead seemed to be tossed aside almost effortlessly with Dakkon on its back.

The luck that usually protected him was nowhere to be found this time- the horse landed on his left foot and nearly crushed his leg had it landed a little higher up. His grieve had protected his leg a decent amount but only enough to prevent his ankle from breaking because he was fairly sure he’d broken a toe or two. And of course it got worse… he was pinned. The vampire mount heaved deeply before the war hammer stuck its head and crushed it into a heavy mushy mass of… mush.

A large horned demon was obviously intent on taking on Dakkon who was at this point in time starting to seriously regret his choice to join the fight.

But he had made a difference…

Ok a slight difference.

Well this isn’t good.

No… It’s not.

Any plans?

The demon made some strange sound similar to a howl and swung the giant war hammer sky-ward in preparation to smash Dakkon into matching… mush.

No…

Well this is definitely a first.

Dakkons hybrid form could no doubt save him from this mushy fate- be he couldn’t control it and it came out when it damn well felt like it. So he went with a last resort.

The Demon-Steel seemed to move on its own as the carapace shifted to cover his fingers and form a knuckle- the sharp blades in the top drifted to the side as a nozzle seemed to grow from a space between the exposed plates blue flames curling up his arm to gather at the tip. Dakkon hissed- as it usually drained his life force in general to use it.

The difference was he was putting almost everything he had into it.

… Almost.

The creature roared half way into the downswing.

Dakkon fired.

The creatures head just seemed to melt to ash on the demons shoulder. He was saved… and then the massive demon carcass fell on on top of him and the horse.

OW!

Damn… I don’t ever recall seeing you… almost… dead?

Chaos exploded around them as things continued as they where- he went unnoticed as the darkness started to take him

Well… you did good.

(This is my formal exit from combat- all though if anyone posts to move Dakkon or help him in any way I’ll respond. Was good fun but I‘ll let the new group play the rest out.)

[Workout Wonder]

Kedx should have been ecstatic at the irony of these heroes causing more damage to the temple as they had arrived. However, midst the people screaming that they had to get to the Promenade as their one last chance at refuge, the vampire knew that he was finally overwhelmed by the force presented before him. He fired off the remaining four bullets in his gun, one at the blonde girl, another at the man with the adamantine sword, a third at the man with a katana and the last at the drow making the arial assault. The vampire just shook his head in disbelief, this was the first time he didn’t have a bullet left for his enemies.

He was going to have to escape quickly. Letho had managed to sever the head of his horse, so as the vampiric beast crumbled to dust, Kedx knew he had but only one last way out. The top. The roof was falling, and it represented Kedx’s last chance at escape. With no other option, the vampire took to pursuit, doing everything he could to avoid the armed warriors and the fiery vines that were coming his way.

“Just to get to the Peaceful Promenade,” he thought. It was the one part of Underwood that had yet to be touched, if the people in the temple were any indication. The vampire wanted to make sure that he succeeded in his task, even if he was going to die. A vampire could live for ever like a lamb, but that wasn’t the true immortality Kedx had been seeking in this adventure. Once he destroyed the Peaceful Promenade, even whit this huge hoarde of adventurers there to stop him, he would have made himself the stuff of legends.

Thus, the vampire began to climb the tapestry, moving with the agility of a cat. He was very hurt, and even the mythril armor weighed enough to belabor him, causing the vampire to drop all his weapons but his notorious demon blade, the Flaming Rouge. Even his mask fell off in the melee, revealing that despite all of his seemingly awesome power, he was little more than a frothing feline.

Darting out through one of the emerging holes in the roof, Kedx began to run along the rooftops. He moved quickly, hoping that the ingenuity of his plan would allow him to get farther than anyone else would anticipate. He had only just managed to leap onto another building as the entire temple of Draconus came crashing down.

“It’s not too far to the Peaceful Promenade,” he thought, leaping down from a roof and breaking into a swift jog. Pieces of armor were falling off his body as he moved now, as Kedx took every effort to make sure he would survive. His body was fighting burns, even though he didn’t realize it. The vampire may have avoided the bulk of the flames, but there were still bits of embers that had collected in the vampire’s cape and they were beginning to smolder.

Kedx paid them no mind. He was practically frothing at the thought of the Peaceful Promenade. His demons had managed to carve most of the way out for him without interference, and the vampire could practically taste the fear and innocence that lay inside. Not only was he going to decimate the building, but the first person he met inside that building would serve as his first real meal of the day.

In what must have seen humorous only to the most jaded of souls, Kedx had been so busy killing that he hadn’t arranged the time to eat.

Please attack the demons also!

[Djakara]

None of Djakara’s arrows were nearly as successful as the boy would have hoped. Two of them managed to at least hit the demons, though one bounced uselessly off a demon’s armor, while the other only managed to embed itself within the a demon forearm. Djakara gulped. Now there were three angry demons that all wanted a piece of him.

Fortunately, only two of them rushed after Djakara. The other held back, firing a few crossbow bolts in disgust, but generally maintaining the siege on the Promenade. Djakara drew his spear-scythe again and took a deep exhale, hoping that the adrenaline that had numbed the pain in his arm would not go away. The boy held his spear scythe ready, knowing that while his positioning behind the wall kept him shielded from the bolts, it meant that the other two demons would be able to move on him suddenly.

“You kids stay safe,” Djakara demanded. “Stay here, unless it looks like I’m dying…”

The two kids looked at Djakara blankly, as if they didn’t understand anything that was going on. The young refugee wasn’t surprised. Given the trauma they had endured, he was surprised that they could comprehend anything. However, before he could do anything to either explain or allay their fears, the first of the two demons emerged, suddenly slashing his axe forwards so as to almost take Djakara’s head off with the first blow.

Luckily, the children screamed. That gave Djakara just enough warning to crouch down low, and just the opportunity he needed to drive the speared end of his weapon straight into the demon’s belly, underneath the chest plate. Blood spurted out onto Djakara’s face, temporarily blinding the boy as he spit the noxious liquid out, but necessity provided the boy with the wherewithal to duck a sword attack from the second demon.

Fortunately, the two demons were not all that coordinated. In missing Djakara, the second demon managed to slice his foe in half. The result of the blow stunned Djakara, he had imagined that the demon would be strong, but not nearly that strong. The boy had been forced to let go of his spear-scythe and was now weaponless, caught on his butt and looking up at a particularly powerful demon.

The tenseness of the situation brought one of the children out of her constant state of fear to at least manage to talk. “Wha… wha- what should we do…” she managed.

Unsure what else to answer, Djakara said what he could. “Run,” he said. He didn’t know what their chances of survival were, but they were better away from him.

The bloodthirsty demon had recovered from the shock of killing his own mate and now prepared to attack Djakara again. The novice fighter had just managed to get his weight back onto his feet as the second blow came, allowing the boy a little more respite. Still, he was overwhelmed by the demon, and there was little chance for survival, right up to the point where the vampire came ripping through, cape on fire, heading for the Promenade.

“Everyone get back,” one of the other demons called. “We’re taking the Promenade.”

The demon with the sword must have cared little for his fallen comrade, because the thought of storming the last untouched building was worth more than avenging his ally. Djakara heaved a sigh of relief as the demon sped off, and called back the two kids to him.

“Hide here,” he said, telling them to remain in the ruins of the house. Getting them to the Promenade would no longer be safe. With that, Djakara fished his weapon out from the entrails of the demon that had been killed. The boy took a deep breath. Survival now lay in how long he was able to keep himself alive.

[Run]

"Damn!" The obscenity came roaring from his throat, one of the few powerful things about him. July's fist snapped shut at his side, and the coils of lava spun rapidly around one another until they formed a solid orb again. The maniac's horse, now stumbling headless, suddenly took on a grainy, grey composure. Before the the beast crumbled away, he aimed that black object again, the deadly thing that it was, and fired upon his attackers, but passed the pyromancer entirely. Cursing again (at such a minor insult, to be looked over), July watched as he scrambled desperately to move past the blades and other hazards with impressive speed.

He meant to raise both arms, to increase the drama of the act, but his left refused to raise more than stomach level. The wound from the glancing acid bullet had finally taken it's toll, and pain raged through the left side of his body before he gave up using the appendage, letting it fall. His unwounded arm raise however, and he made a circular motion overhead. Flames gathered up from their meal of stone and wood and flesh to mindless follow his bidding, circling around his body up towards the orb of lava, which it envoloped, giving his usual flames a bit of extra power.

The maniac scurried across the floor of the weakening temple, leaping up and clinging to a tapestry. In his rush to escape, and apparent carelessness, his possessions loosened with his struggle and clattered to the floor; daggers, that curious black object...even the mask. In an image of childlike innocence, July clapped his hands over his mouth, the red terrible glow of the fire flickering across his flesh in wordless glee. Abandoning his attempts to stew the maniac in a broth of his own blood and melted flesh and soupy marrow, the pyromancer dashed across the church, casting aside whatever worry he had of the raging inferno all around him, and scooped up the momento. He ran a hand done one polished white cheek, and then chuckling to himself, tucked it away into his coat. As the burning wooden support beams above began to creak ominously, the cieling shifting, casting down bits of debris and dust, July swept his good hand to the left, directing the cloud of flame and amorphic lava out the door, rushing out of it a second later. In a few moments, with a great, protesting groan, like a helpless old man a second before the family pulls the plug, the roof collapsed, and what remained of the temple was nothing but flaming rubble and crushed, soot smeared corpses.

"Everybody needs a little devastation," he whispered, licking his lips surreptitiously before turning to give chase.

For a minute or two, the maniac's caped back was visible to him, but he quickly pulled away into the dark of the night. July cursed again, a very common habit of his; even though the wounds the lunatic had taken obviously pointed out he was a race removed from July's spectrum, if he still was human, he'd have most likely managed to get away from July. The boy had never been hesitant to admit that he was out of shape; despite his skinny frame, he didn't have much in the way of muscle. Growling in frustration, he wasn't expecting to receive an outlet for his rage.

As he began to struggle down the path to the Peaceful Promenade again, warriors of the demon persuasion swarmed across his way, brandishing their weapons, intent on aiding their delightfully twisted master as best as they could. They weren't an overwhelming lot for an average warrior, but for July, at this moment in time, they presented a deadly problem. Thinking fast, his eyes flickered to one of the trees flanking the path, and the mass of flames above him reached out and licked it's branches, igniting it. "Get the fuck out of my way! I've much of this miserable place to burn down yet!"

"Who are you to speak as such to someone who can strike you down right now?!" The speaker and four other demons stepped forward, and baring his teeth, July thrust a finger forward, then dropped it downward. The clot of fire and lava over head reached and wrapped itself around them, their forms all but lost in it. The molten rock swarmed over their bodies, flowing beneath armor to smelt it amongst liquefied flesh. When the fire pulled away to hover lazily over his head again, what remained where a few clumped piles of black gunk, bones peaking out here and there, what metal melted glowing with intense heat. "Any other fucking questions?" The few nearest demons scratched out of habit at their helmed heads, and one perked up. "Ah yeah! If you're on our side, who's the man we follow?"

'Shit.'

It was all July could do not to show any signs of nervousness, though in the dark of his hood, where the worst of human emotions were displayed, his eyes darted side to side, looking for an escape route. Struggling, his mouth slowly opened as he began to think of some of the most ridiculous combinations of words he'd heard in his days. "Da..." The demon scowled, and he shut his mouth immediately. "Vsh..." Another suspicious glare. "Ke..." The demon's brows arched. "...dx?" The soldier laughed heartily, clapping him on the back once he'd reached him. "Glad to have such a ruthless bastard with us! Come on, we're going to destroy the Peaceful Promenade!"

'I sort of suspected as such,' July thought to himself, not bothering to hide his happy little smile. The demons began to march, and July broke out in a sprint, or as much of one as he could muster, pushing his way through those that remained, the fire following him only a few feet above.

[Artifex Felicis]

Leon waited calmly. From what he could gather, most of the demons, or what remained of them, were beginning to make their way towards the Promenade. Over the roar of the flames shots continued to bang out, covering up screams of pain and horror for a moment. The demon's themselves had their own distinct touch to the symphony of destruction, whether in pain or in the morbid joy of killing the innocent people. he cat boy closed his eyes, swaying to the sounds. It had it's own beat, the roar of the flames setting it. It was also the worst thing that Leon had ever heard.

He smiled though, tapping his fingers for a couple moments as figures began to make themselves known in the distance. The raging inferno lit up everything, making it a sick orange and yellow as the flames danced. Leon went down the steps leading to the Peaceful Promenade, a misnomer if anything, slowly. He heard the click of his claws on the wood, soft against the heavy thuds of approaching demons. They didn't come as the squad they arrived in. Every single one of the demons in front of him was merely an individual, and that's what made them weak. Several shots came from inside of the tavern, two or three people had a bow and some arrows. One or two shots actually brought down a demon, but the rest didn't so much as faze them.

Leon walked, standing in the middle of the road and the only thing directly in the way between a horde of screaming demons, each a trained soldier, and the largest group of citizens left in Underwood. He bent his knees, smiling widely. Even from a distance there was a shine his teeth, dangerous and sharp. He tensed up, as if ready to pounce. Then he gave himself over to the Kitty side.

A snarl escaped him, but what followed actually stopped most of the demon's where they stood. Leon roared, louder than the flames, the blood-cries of the attackers, even higher than those in pain. The sound was deep, freshening even to come from a small body. It was the sound that would have signified to all those following the cat boy that the hunt was on. One thing in his immediate vision, however, did not stop. It was another cat man, however he wore a cloak that seemed to be in flames, and wore a face even the feral cat boy knew well.

The cat boy sprang forward quick as lightening. The demons composed themselves, charging at him again, though not quickly enough. The boy leaped up, lands solidly landing on the shoulders of one of the first demons. A quick look told the boy none of the enemy had spikes on their armor, and he leaped again, over most of the demons and sending his spring board face down and into the dirt. Some blades tried to cut him, but clanged uselessly off the cat boy's coat in the air. Leon rolled when he hit the ground and came up running.

A snarl escaped from the boy as he closed the gap. He pounced this time, arms outstretched with tooth and claws ready to tear into Corin's body. The taste awaiting him would be sweet, even if the blood was bitter.

[Arsenic Ruin]

His sword held out from his right side dug into the wooden frame of the Temples door. Ears twitched at the loud ringing of the masked mans gun, it was a set up or so it seemed as he turned his weight tottered on the edge of the top step. With his weight twisted hard on the ball of his right foot so that he turned from right to left, grasping out to the corded handle of his weapon. But sadly the fall would have been much worse, the bullet of his opponent found quick purchase in his left shoulder, nestling its way through bone, nerves and flesh playing favorites to neither. Blood gurgled from the wound and stained his kimono. He looked to his shoulder; in disbelief at first the wave of pain that blew through him was far worse than even the hoarfrost attack from Molotov. He fell back from the steps of the temple; his left hand without feeling dropped itself from the katana’s hilt soon realizing the extent of the damage done to the nervous system of his arm, and his right picked up the slack grabbing the katana’s hilt before he hit the ground with a firm right foot planted on the ground.

He landed right in the midst of 4 demonic guards, he could tell by the number of shadows that surrounded him. Each varying in their suit of weapon, The Axe, The Sword, The Hammer, The Spear, and this time he spotted the fifth who wielded nothing but a pair of sturdy gauntletsm, The Guantlet. The tip of his katana was dug lightly into the ground not even raised, and he still spoke. Lips curled into a sardonic grin, but soon it faded as he tried to move his left arm; it was a failed attempt.


They came, charging wholeheartedly breaking off as to surround him it seemed, that or take him in turn. So the first move was made, it came from the right, the Axe. It was a double-sided blade weapon, equipped with the standard spike tipped head. And it was as sharp as his father’s whit. A quick vertical slash from top to bottom, easily avoided with even a lame arm, this battle would be won by speed not by strength. His feet dug into the ground, weight twisted so that he was parallel to the weapon that was almost half his size. The weapon razed the ground, gravel and soil alike then slashed back horizontally towards the chest of Arsenic, who was ill prepared. His own weapon was brought to his chest as the Axe clashed against it, the speed and reflexes of these Hellions was far greater than the ones he fought before, because as soon as the first strike hit, the second was coming, and fast. His right foot was slid back, twisting so that he avoided the brunt of the attack; his sword was clipped which sent him into another spin.



The knuckles of his right hand skidded across the ground as he tried to stop himself. His footing was regained in a low stance, both legs were spread as if he were going to complete the splits, and as the next attack came he watched with both eyes open. Bringing both feet together shooting himself into the air just above the blade, and down quick enough to land on it, he ran up its length brandishing his blade and slashed deep into the head of the giant axe holder. The rest of the bunch was eager to attack, as soon as their comrade fell. The sword came next, twisted with his upper body his own sword pressed against the outer edge of the broad-sword weapon pushing from it using his opponents haphazard attacks against him, and lead him after a series of strikes – one which had scathed the top of his left shoulder cutting open a layer of cloth to show an openly dripping wound- to puncture a whole through the stomach of the Spear, who also lunged head-long with his pole-arm to the chest of the Sword.


The Hammer, and gauntlet weren’t so eager, and attacked side by side instead of form both sides. As the hammer came down, the fists launched, leaving no margin for error, nor a chance to recover, and Arsenic was putting up quite the tussle, even taking a sharp blow to the mid-section that was easily dulled by rotating his weight. But that blow was the break he needed, using the moment of hesitation to slice through the Gauntlet’s arm right below the plating of his thick gloves, dealing him a somber blow, then plunged his weapon into the chest of his now armless opponent. Riding the wave of his body backwards towards the Hammer who carelessly swung through his brother in arms’ body. Incidentally the hammer was lodged there, and this considerably slowed down the hammers swings. Which allowed for the final strike, all engines diverted forward so to speak he slashed through the Hammer’s stomach and mid-section blood licking his blade that looked as if it had seen better days. He heard far off chants of the Promenade so that is where he took off too. While others ran through the forest, Arsenic thought it would be best to run over the forest.

Wincing with the first couple of steps, and wheezing before he found himself a rhythm and stride. His body rose to the trees with a stylish leap, bounding on the higher branches, which lead him to leap a few feet over the trees each time. Allowing him to see the distance between himself and the Promenade that became increasingly smaller. And soon he dropped to the floor of the forest standing left side of his body blood drenched as he attempted to make his way to the steps of the Promenade, hopefully no one had beat him there but he was late. He heard the roar, his landing was farfetched, and this day he wouldn’t claim the title of the Slayer of Evil, at least that is what he thought. Weight capsized to his right side digging his weapon into the ground, his mind fought off the pain that seared through his left side chanting to himself.


“Just a little while longer…”

“Be stead fast for just a little while longer…”

“You can do this..”


His eyes narrowed, if there was going to be any shot, this was it with the demon horde distracted by the opposing feline, Arsenic made his move. Legs pumped against the ground he felt his strength slipping, so this was do or die. His right foot sprang him forward, darting off the ground towards the right flank of Kedx. His left foot touched a tree, pushing himself off around the horde instead of into it. And then came the final moment, averting his momentum into a final slash, and the push of his left foot his body ducked below that of Leon driving the last hit home. Arsenic’s weapon crossed over his wounded left shoulder, using it to press the weapon onward and forward in its last attempts to deal a final blow to the frothing Feline. Only time will tell, either way after the blow he would skid and collapse due to the blood loss.

[Izvilvin]

The item was unlike anything Izvilvin had ever seen. It seemed to explode in the attacker's hands, but he showed no pain at all. Thankfully Izvilvin was not the first to have the thing pointed at him, so when the gun was turned toward his face, the Drow twisted and desperately turned out of its way. He could feel something fly by him, but didn't know what. He turned around to seek it, but saw nothing.

When he looked back, Kedx was climbing a massive red tapestry up to the ceiling.

Quickly sliding his sai back into his belt, Izvilvin rushed forward to follow, but noticed something on the floor before hand. A pair of daggers, identical, laying next to one another. He snatched them up and stuffed them into his belt, then leapt up to grip the fabric of the tapestry.

With no claws his movement was significantly slower than Kedx's, but Izvilvin kept his eyes up and followed the fiend's every move. He'd heard someone call him by his nickname, and recognized it as Christina Bredith, the warrior woman. Yet he didn't want to slow down.

Eventually he reached the roof. Kedx was far away by then, but Izvilvin's elven eyes could see him in the distance. He bolted after the fleeing creature, determined to put an end to what was happening.

The Peaceful Promenade was ahead, but between the sprinting warrior and the building stood four demons, large things with blades as long as Izvilvin's arm. He didn't slow, but drew Icicle in one hand and a kukri in the other.

The first demon sent a sloppy overhanded chop his way, and Izvilvin easily ducked it. He continued running past him to the next one, who seemed startled that the Drow hadn't bothered with his ally. Despite his surprise, the demon was able to parry the low stab Izvilvin had sent his way with Icicle. The enchanted sword left a clean sheet of ice over where it had hit the demon's blade.

One of the demon's feet came up to kick the Drow, but he was too fast. Whirling around, he brought a black hand to bear and drove his kukri into the thing's neck, twisted, and tore out the flesh within.

But there were three others to deal with, and Izvilvin wasn't sure he could get to the Promenade before Kedx did a lot more damage. Grimacing, he brought Icicle up to knock an attacking blade aside.

[Letho]

For all her beauty, Christina Bredith wasn’t the smartest dame in the world. She was a warrior, Letho knew, and a damn good one, but she lacked the refinement and a sense of tactics that her gender usually had in abundance. How else could a person explain her attack but with lack of reason? Calling forth an earthquake in an environment that was deteriorating rapidly under the effect of the ever-hungry flames was borderline madness. The structural integrity of the temple that was already evanescing was completely effaced by her attack, columns were losing foundation and stability, supporting beams cracking overhead and raining down upon the unfortunate few that were still trapped by the flames. From overhead, the ringing bell broke free of whatever held it within the tower, plummeting down the insides of the tower and dinning as it crashed against its walls until it collided with the altar, tearing the last piece of beauty asunder.

But Letho barely had any time to register all of this. Kedx was already on the counter, emptying his revolver at his attackers. Luckily, the Marshal was a gun-wielder as well, so when the firearm was directed at him, a quick roll through the splintered wood of the pews rendered him clear of the murderous bullet. However, by the time the swordsman was back on his feet, the indestructible vampire was on the move, climbing up the tapestries like a spider and clearing the crumbling temple. Letho knew he had to get out, he had to stop this madman and get his revenge. He had to...

“Help... Please, help us...”

The rampant flames and the snapping of the wood set ablaze almost doused the voice completely, but the Marshal was able to hear it anyways. And once he directed his eyes to its source, he could see a family of four huddled in one of the niches, hidden behind the marble statue of Draconus and shielding their faces from the fire. Letho hesitated; Kedx was on the move, probably making his way to some place untouched by his devastation still, but if the swordsman moved immediately, he would be able to catch up and put him to the sword. Underwood would be free of the mayhem, the vengeance would be fulfilled, his pride satiated... But there was no honor in that course of action. It was the bloodthirsty side of him that insisted on being the vampire’s executor. Luckily, on this night, that trait of his failed to prevail.

“Here, take this,” Letho said, taking off his leather coat that proved itself rather resistant to the fire so far. “Shield the little ones with it. I’ll be right back.”

Off the bulky swordsman went, collecting his gunblade and pausing only to pick up Kedx’s revolver; such a weapon was too dangerous to be left behind. Next, he ascertained his environment. There were very few options left for him, what with the flames encompassing his position completely, barring all exits. He could charge through them, of course, and come out with nothing but a handful of mild burns, but he doubted that the scared four would be able to leap through the raging hell that Kedx evoked. It was then that the Marshal noticed the huge brass bell that lay within the rubble that was once an altar dedicated to Draconus. And in that piece of metal, Letho found salvation for family.

“Here! Come here!” he gestured towards the four, yanking the bell free of the rubble. The flames were more violent now, getting closer and making his skin ache with fiery pain, eliciting his pores to expel sweat profusely all over his body. “We’re going to have to work together on this, but it should shield us from the fire.”

The married couple gazed at him emptily, embracing the pair of younglings that seemed completely lost in the large black overcoat. However, once Letho pulled the bell over them, they understood what he meant. They all worked, even the pair of children, carrying the heavy piece of metal as they proceeded through the flames. Their feet burned, the flames melting the soles of their boots and heating the bell so much that their hands felt as if they pressed them against a hot plate. However, before they became well done, the five and their bell exited through the front door, several seconds before the whole edifice came toppling down like an enflamed house of cards.

Throwing the bell aside with the last bits of his strength, Letho crumbled to one knee, his lungs desperate to inhale the first breath of fresh air in minutes. His clothes were wet, sopped with sweat and clinging to his sensitive, burned skin. Regretfully, he realized that somebody else would have to put an end to Kedx and his madness, because he was visible spent. However, the regret didn’t last for long, couldn’t once he saw the grateful expression on the faces of those he salvaged from the fiery ruin. And he realized that sometimes to win, you had to lose the thing you coveted so much.


[Meanwhile, at The Peaceful Promenade...]

The famous gathering place was everything but peaceful currently, but it was not because the attackers invaded it yet. No, such a prominent establishment had it means to defend. Aside from the usual set of guards that were paid to keep order within the Peaceful Promenade, there was currently a contingent of Corone Rangers staying within its walls. Led by Marshal Edward Stormcrow, this group of some fifteen rangers rallied all able hands to defense of the only place untouched by the maddened vampire and his demonic forces. They managed to gather some fifty people to their cause, positioning most on balconies and windows with some mean of ranged weaponry. Probably the most important of these fifty armed men was a gaunt elf, a wizard hailing from the land of Raiaera. It was his spell – something called the Ward of Fire – that protected the entire Peaceful Promenade from even a lick of flame, the enchantment bringing up a barrier that could be undone only by the most potent of spells. However, seeing as none of the spellcasters had the prowess that Tenniel had, the Promenade was safe from the flames for the time being.

And it seemed to be safe from physical damage as well. Because, as soon as the demons came charging for it in the heedless, bludgeon manner that they usually attacked, the defenders rained volley after volley of arrows from their strategically superior positions. This little piece of hell that Kedx raised was coming to an inevitable bloody end at the steps of The Peaceful Promenade.

((SPOILS: Jeeves, the iron revolver, previously in Kedx's possession.))

[Zerith]

((Sorry about the lateness))

Life just always had a habit of throwing surprises at people when they either didn’t expect it, or liked the way their life was at that moment in time. Some of these twists were actually good ones, falling in love was a prime example. Or there was the surprise pregnancy a young couple found themselves forced to deal with. Still, through those times the people usually were in high spirits and carried smiles on their faces.

From where Zerith was sitting inside the Peaceful Promenade. Life decided that it was a perfect time to toss in a unpleasant, not so joyous surprise. Also, instead of effecting just the halberdier, the entire building was in for a shock when the Corone Rangers arrived with a man that introduced himself as Marshal Stormcrow. Apparently while everyone in the establishment was occupied in the famous building, some individual decided now was a good time to attack Underwood. Some brave strangers were fighting back, but the madman was heading towards his next target. The Peaceful Promenade.

It was no surprise that a number of able bodies declared that they wanted to help the Rangers. Given the circumstances, the Marshal was more than happy to place them in strategic positions and arm them with ranged weaponry. From there all they had to do was rain arrows upon the army of demons that tried to charge into the building. It was just bad luck, dealing with just a madman was one thing, but dealing with one and his own army of demons was another.

During the commotion in the establishment, Zerith had managed to get up from where he was sitting and approach the Marshal. “Hey!” the halberdier shouted, making Stormcrow spin around to face him. “I may not have any experience with ranged weaponry but I want to help out in any way I can.”

“Excellent!” the Marshal exclaimed. “Let’s just get you a bow and some arrows and then we’ll figure out where we can place you.”

“I don’t think you heard me correctly, Marshal,” Zerith replied. “When I said I may not have any experience with that kind of stuff, I meant it. I probably wouldn’t be able to hit a single thing from up there.”

“Well what the hell can you do?”

Smiling with his halberd in hand, Zerith answered. “Let me try to convince some others to help out and then we can take the fight outside. The way I see it, one or two of those things are going to get through. If some of us go outside, we can at least fight back while your men do what they do best.”

***

“Alright guys!” Zerith exclaimed to the dozen or so people that he managed to gather. The entire group consisted of mercenaries and adventurers, everyone had their weapons drawn though the majority of them carried swords. One held a spear by his side while a dwarf held a large battleaxe in both hands. The halberdier didn’t really care what they had at their disposal, all that mattered was they he actually succeeded in finding a group willing to go out and fight. “With the magical barrier in place and the others upstairs with their arrows, it looks like nothing is going to touch the building. However, I’m not willing to risk having a few of those thing make it through the volleys and get here. So we’re going to go out there and bring the fight to them. Ready? Let’s do this!”

With that said the front door swung open and thirteen fighters all charged out lead by the halberdier. Just as the last one stepped outside, the door slammed shut again. With a loud cry, the thirteen charged into the demons and began their attempt and helping defend the Peaceful Promenade. Zerith jumped right in, stabbing one demon through the throat with his halberd and moving onto the next one. Meanwhile, the people upstairs continued to fire volley after volley upon the demons. If this teamwork held up long enough, hopefully the Promenade wouldn’t even get a scratch.

((Hope you don't mind Letho, but I figured this was the best way to get involved. Also feel free to bunny the other fighters, they're probably just going to die in the fight anyways.))

[Workout Wonder]

Kedx was practically upon his target when he noticed something he wanted to destroy even more than the Peaceful Promenade. “He’s finally here!” the vampire thought gleefully. “I suppose a bribe of two thousand gold coins was enough to get the stupid git to forget just how pathetic he is.” It was but a few more bounded steps before Kedx was upon the doors of the Peaceful Promenade, the place where the vampire planned to make his final stand. However, now that he saw Leon, he had to change his mind. Kedx felt like he couldn’t live with the idea of Leon being alive somewhere in the universe and not he. Not that Kedx considered himself particularly altruistic, but the vampire felt there was some fundamental law of the universe that would be broken if someone like Leon was able to live on past him.

Fortunately, Kedx didn’t even need to move for Leon to come to him. The catboy had charged, claws baring straight for Kedx’s torso. The vampire tried hard not to laugh. After all, he was a night walker now. There was nothing the pithy claws of a creature like Leon could do to him. Remembering the knee he had already injured twice, Kedx used his sword to slice at Leon’s knee cap, figuring he would toy with the catboy before destroying him.

However, Kedx’s biggest mistake was underestimating how much protection his demons could give him. The man who had first attacked him with a fireball was nearing upon him, and practically everyone from the temple had managed to catch up with him as well. Unable to do much to avoid any of this new onslaught with Leon’s claws digging into his body, Kedx was unable to do anything but absorb the blows and then suddenly convulse in shock as Leon’s claws had somehow managed to dig deep enough into the vampire’s body that they had pulled out his heart!

For a few brief seconds, Kedx looked on in shock as Leon held the small little black orb in his hand, and the vampire was able to watch as the withered vampiric organ took its last deep breath and he suddenly turned to dust. Kedx didn’t even have enough time for a last word.

Kedx’s demons reacted with complete and utter shock. Some of them fled, knowing that without their leader, they had no chance of escape. Others continued the fight, continuing carnage its own reward. However, it was clear that the Peaceful Promenade had been saved, at least from the bloodthirsty vampire.

Like everything else he had tried during his life, Kedx had ended up finding that he had set his ambitions too high for his capabilities. Now, he would never have the chance to learn from his mistakes.

Everyone feel free to post for another week, but get your conclusions in by that time. After that I’ll post a conclusion to the thread. I hope everyone had a good time.

[Christina Bredith]

Kedx’s bullet was no surprise to Christina, for she had seen him firing earlier, but this one had come too quickly to dodge, and there wasn’t enough cover for her to protect herself from it either. Though she was already in motion when she saw that her attack had missed, the bullet bit through her shoulder and pain burned along her arm and up her neck. She was sure it had chipped even her shoulder bone. The pain was nearly unbearable, except for the fact that Christina was pissed.

As soon as Kedx started scrambling for the roof, the woman was on the move again. She had underestimated the extent of his cat-like agility, but she wasn’t going to let him get away regardless. As long as he stayed in Underwood, which he seemed to have an uncanny fascination with doing, there was the chance to defeat him. However, if he was scrambling up through the rafters and onto the roof of the temple, there was the distinct possibility that he was going to escape into the surrounding forest, and then he’d be nearly impossible to find. Above all, Christina was not going to let that happen.

She burst through the temple doors, gripping her right shoulder with her left arm and letting Rosebite almost drag against the ground behind her as she moved. As soon as she was outside, silver eyes scanned the horizon. Where had the vampire gone? There! Kedx was on the roof, making hastily for the edge and hopping down before vanishing into an alley. You’re not getting away that easily.

Dashing for an adjacent house, Christina braced herself against Rosebite and pointed the blade against the ground. Shouting out the command for her Sonic Sable, the woman created a burst of blue energy that launched her into the air. Her trajectory maxed, arced, and then fell, and she landed uncomfortably but otherwise in good shape on the roof of the small house.

Immediately breaking into a run, the warrior-woman saw that the vampire was making his escape directly down one of the town’s side-roads. She didn’t know where he was headed just yet, but it didn’t matter. Christina followed, racing from rooftop to rooftop while keeping Kedx just in sight over the houses’ eaves troughs. This part of the town had buildings relatively closely packed together, so the going was easy, but where necessary, the woman gave herself a boost using her weapon’s special abilities.

When she could spare a moment, Christina tried to figure out where Kedx was headed. She only vaguely knew Underwood’s layout, but from his direction she could tell the feline wasn’t trying to escape the town; at the very least, he certainly wasn’t making the most efficient escape in the history of murders. Where, where, where—no! The building that caught the corner of her eye as she glanced down to make sure she was still trailing the vampire answered her question resoundingly. Not the Promenade…

The potential for damage and destruction was insurmountable, but Christina knew she couldn’t possibly reach the Promenade faster than Kedx could. He simply moved too fast. And what’s more, from her lofty vantage point, the woman could see that his cronies were making haste to join him at what would probably be the grand finale of his whirlwind tour.

The Promenade was finally in range; it was a little taller than the houses Christina was using as stepping stones, but a quick burst of energy from Rosebite carried her on an easy trajectory up onto its roof. Two of Kedx’s more humanoid demons were standing not far from the door, warding off any who might enter, and the feline mastermind himself was already inside. Christina needed to get down and deal with the pair first.

From her current height, a jump would be a death sentence, but the thatched roof of the tavern would prove to be perfect for her descent. Figuring that a little damage to the building’s roof was an acceptable cost compared to the damage Kedx would do if he was left alone for long, Christina thrust Rosebite into a thicker part of the roof near the sturdy beam that formed its edge, and then shouted the command to extend it. From there, she lowered herself down using the whip-like sword as an extending grappling hook; at its full length, it was easily long enough for her to reach the ground, and unlike a normal whip, it was heavy enough to latch onto the beam and provide support for her descent. Once on the ground, she allowed the sword a little slack, and then retracted it before turning to face the two demon-guards at the Promenade’s door.

Immediately, Rosebite lashed out at one of the two guards, ending his life instantly with a severed spine. “Hello boys,” she said sweetly to the remaining guard once his attention had already been caught. “Is there a cover charge? And here I thought it was ladies night.”

The remaining demon proved to have a considerably less developed sense of humour and a considerably sharper sword arm. He lashed out instantly, and while Christina was able to parry the brunt of the attack easily enough, the demon’s blade still drew against her right arm, shearing a small section of skin like cleanly off. She hissed and pushed her own sword forward, fighting past the pain to utilize whatever energy she had left. Rosebite took root in the demon’s chest, right through its black heart.

“Go to hell.”

The blade’s silver rune flared to life and a burst of blue energy raced forward, shredding the demon’s body from the inside. Best of all, Christina could see its shrivelled heart propelled through the air like a bullet, riding the wave of her Sonic Sable. It squished deliciously – at least, it seemed delicious in her rage – against the wall of a nearby building before sliding to the floor.

Christina turned to stumble into the building, just as the rest of Underwood’s would-be defenders reached the scene. Chaos was already erupting inside, with the Corone Rangers fighting off the demons and Kedx that had implanted themselves within the Promenade. Christina’s vision was hazing. It was blurred. She was balancing precariously from one leg to the next, barely keeping upright. Her right shoulder burned still with pain from the bullet, and her left arm was shaved like a slab of ham. Her brain told her that she was in no position to fight. But I’m not… letting him win…

Luckily, Christina would not have to fight anymore. Not long after she entered the building, the other cat-boy from the Temple of Draconus leapt forward, and ripped out the vampire’s own heart. For a minute, the woman wasn’t sure whether she was just hallucinating from the pain – Leon seemed too cute to do something crazy like that. And considering that Kedx disintegrated moments thereafter, leaving only what little armour he was still wearing on the floor, Christina was starting to get even more convinced that it was all a crazy, pain-induced dream.

But no matter how often she blinked or rubbed her eyes (accidentally dotting it with blood in the process), the hallucination didn’t fade. Christina stumbled forward to where Kedx’s body had once stood, fell ungracefully to her knees, and reached for the spidersilk gloves he had once been wearing. She let Rosebite fall to the floor beside her, and shakily slipped the gloves over her own blood-stained hands.

“Bastard… ruined my manicure.” She laughed weakly, coughed, and slumped against a nearby table, resting one of her arms on the chair. Her eyes closed, and the woman lapsed into unconsciousness, her ragged breaths finally making way for the steady, peaceful rhythm of sleep.

((As this is probably my last post, I'm requesting the spidersilk gloves she just took, as agreed upon in the sign-up thread.))

[Izvilvin]

Kedx was dead, but Izvilvin's fight was not over.

He stood before the three remaining demons, Icicle in one hand and a Cillu glass kukri in the other, each of them twirling independently. The glass weapon was black with demon blood, dripping every few seconds onto the grassy ground.

Izvilvin didn't doubt his ability to take down all three demons, but he knew it would take time -- more time than he had, if he wanted to stop the vampire. For all he knew, Kedx was inside the Peaceful Promenade, slaying mercilessly. Still, if he wanted to slay the three sword-wielders without taking injury himself, he needed to be patient.

No more time for thought. They were upon him.

Icicle came across, leaving an opaque wall between himself and the three charging demons. Two of them stopped, but the other plowed right through, reducing the wall of mist to a billion tiny crystals of frost in the air. Izvilvin met the leading demon's charge with Icicle, parrying the black blade that his opponent wielded. His kukri flashed in, but the demon was quick, pulling out of range and bringing his sword about in front of him.

The others were closing fast, so Izvilvin went on the offensive, slashing high and low, every which way. The demon managed to parry the more dangerous strikes, but every second attack knicked him in some way, bringing pained grunts from its gut.

Izvilvin sneered and backed off as the other two demons came in. The wounded one was panting, grimacing and most importantly, bleeding.

Sheathing his weapons, Izvilvin drew two sai in their place.

The demons came at him in unison, blades at the ready. Izvilvin hopped back, looking for an opening, but he was forced on the defensive as all three of them attacked. He slid to his left and parried a blade, dodging another at the same moment. The third sword came in fast, and the Drow had to jump backward to avoid the deadly point.

Again they were on him, but Izvilvin was composed. A blade came from each side, and he caught each of them between the prongs of his sai, one in each. He pulled and twisted, disarming each demon despite their superior strength. He simply knew the angles.

The third demon came in quick with its sword, but Izvilvin knelt low. The sharp edge came within an inch of cutting his throat, and then he was beyond the sword, beyond the demon's hand, and inside, stabbing twice into the thing's gut and pulling upward. It dropped fast.

He whirled around just in time to intercept one of the other demons, which had abandoned its blade to leap at him. Despite being caught flat-footed, the Drow was able to dodge by dropping and rolling to the side. He was up in an instant, slashing deep furrows into the demon's side. It growled and fell back, but remained on its feet.

Izvilvin rushed the two remaining demons, chucking left and then right to throw them off. The wounded one slashed half-heartedly with it's claw, and the Drow left a sai through its wrist as he moved past. The third and final demon faltered as he neared, scared of the black warrior despite its usually horrifying effect on mortals. Izvilvin dispatched him with a newly-drawn sai through the throat.

Looking back to the wounded demon, who staggered about with an iron sai sticking out of its arm. In a few smooth, precise movements, Izvilvin threw two of his spare sai into the creature's skull, knocking it dead. He retrieved his weapons and bolted for the Promenade again.

When he finally entered, he knew the horror was over. Kedx was gone and the scene was nothing like what he imagined. Izvilvin gathered his nerves and backed out of the tavern almost as soon as he entered.

((If I need to request these as spoils even though Workout Wonder is giving them, I'd like those two diamond daggers Izvilvin took.))

[Djakara]

Tired but overcome with relief, Djakara looked on as the fiendish vampire was finally felled. It was a bit difficult to see in the darkness, but the sudden disappearance of the one who had brought so much pain and suffering to Underwood was a readily apparent sight. Now hoping to make the demons’ confusion and the night sky his refuge, Djakara quickly grabbed the hands of the two children to take them back to their mother. He was tired and weary, and didn’t care to fight any longer. With the disarray that the demons were in, there were more than enough heroes to end the fight. Djakara himself was not a hero, all he had wanted to do was survive.

Now, he was pleased to accept the masked killer’s bow as his payment for a day’s good deeds and perhaps impose on the will of the town for a bit more in terms of hospitality. “For all they know, my arrow could have killed him,” the boy thought with a grunt. For a moment, he considered waiting long enough to get credit for chasing off the rest of the demons, but Djakara figured that the reputation wasn’t worth the added risk. He had already narrowly escaped death twice, and there seemed no reason to press his luck any more.

Djakara turned to look at the two young children he had been escorting to the Promenade. “You kids, it’s time to go home,” he said, offering them no explanation beyond that.

The two children exchanged a confused glance between them. For a moment, they followed Djakara, as the older boy had grabbed their hands and begun to drag them along with him. Only then did the braver of the two manage the courage to speak. “But our mother said…” he began.

Not completely unsympathetic to their fears, Djakara turned around and shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re going back where it’s safe. Your mother will be waiting for…” Djakara never finished the sentence. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he shouldn’t have mentioned the children’s mother. For all he knew, she had not survived. Guiltily, he continued on, moving through the debris of Underwood without saying much.

The two children followed, silently and wide eyed. Both of their eyes were brimming with tears as they saw the state of the only city they had lived in for their entire lives. Burning embers of building and broken pieces of wood were strewn all over the streets, and undoubtedly the factories in the city would be closed for a while.

Aware of how it affected the kids, Djakara remained silent, knowing that by sunrise, he wouldn’t be in Underwood. “I was on my way out anyways,” Djakara rationalized to himself. He had come to Althanas to escape this kind of devastation, and even though it had seemed to follow him here, the boy had no reason to stay. Instead, he would seek refuge and fortune somewhere else as he left the rebuilding to other people. Djakara wasn’t a Concordian and it wasn’t his responsibility.

Soon, Djakara returned the children to their mother and imposed on her for some bandages. She was so relieved to be done with the battle that she didn’t refuse the young refugee anything, not even the last of her healing herbs. Two hours later, Djakara had taken the first cart he could find out to the port to head for Scara Brae.

(Spoils- Kedx's bow)

[Workout Wonder]

It didn’t take long after Kedx’s dust had settled on the ground for the remaining demons to be routed. They were confused, ignorant of their situation and fearful of their fates now that they had lost their leader. Their leader, in turn, had lost everything. His wealth, reputation and even his livelihood. It was significant that now, among the people buzzing about the events of Underwood, most were already talking only about the heroes who had saved the city, and not the madman who had attacked.

Ultimately, there would be a new statue built in the town square. However, it would not be of the vampire who had turned all but the Peaceful Promenade into rubble. Instead, the statue would represent the heroes who had stood in opposition, a reminder of a new dawn for Underwood.

Rebuilding was still going to be a heavy task. The town had little to reward its heroes with other than Kedx’s spoils of war. The irony wouldn’t have been lost on the vampire had he still lived. He had essentially paid people to kill him.

spoils are as follows

Djakara- bow
DakkonRykk- mythril bracers
Artiflex Felicis- mod's choice
Run- Mask
Letho- Jeeves, the revolver.
Christina Bredith- Spidersilk gloves
Izvilvin- Diamond daggers
Zerith- Flaming Rouge
Arsenic Ruin- Prevalida Daggers

[AdventWings]

In this case, the legend is Flame of Death Kedx. (Feel free to use it, though I hope you have better names to call him. ;))

I'm judging this as one big quest instead of a battle, just so you know. Also, I am considering Djakara as a level 0 character instead of the level 5 that he is now, considering that was how he was before the completion of the thread. Any query or complaints/whines/deaththreats/whatnots can be PMed through to me. :)

And here... Is the Judgment.

Story

Overall... The story was OK for the most part but things tend to get lost in the midst of all that chaos. This instance is no different, but at least a good number of you managed to stick with your individual stories and goals while trying to avoid becoming another "faceless hero" that just goes around saving towns from rampaging lunatics. Motive and Goal... That is what separates two-dimensional stock characters from the 3D Center Figures. Be the Center Figure of your story.

Continuity - 6

Understandable for the lost parts, but it quickly gets lost in the middle of battle once the real fighting breaks out. It gets harder to keep track of things from there on out, but little snippets here and there managed to keep me from losing interest altogether. I know why Kedx is doing this: He has a deathwish and wants a name in the process. Djakara is motivated by his will to survive and a promise from a mother. Christina... I'm not entirely sure why, but she felt like a hero that just happened to be passing through. Same with Dakkon Ryck, Arsenic, Izvilvin and Zerith. How the tory played out in each character's story was... a bit stretched for some but completely logical for others - Leon wanted Kedx dead as well as the Marshall Letho Ravenheart, but the most intriguing twist was July who saw him as a stepping stone to greatness. I'll be waiting to read more on how each of your characters develop from here on out.

Setting - 7

Mosty inconsistent, but some of you have very good feel and use of the area around you - not just feeling it, but using it as interactive props. Some of you still need to work on that and I suggest you practice by closing your eyes and imagine the scenery for a few minutes (whether or not you are writing anything at all) and try to get yourself to be in that setting. I'll leave this little exercise for you to try out - it certainly helped me a lot in this category.

Pacing - 6

I admit, it was rather hard to follow and note the changing tension and the shift of action as it moved from one post or another. That's one of the downside of having so many people in any given quest - unless all of it had been planned on ahead and choreographed to the second. But that's a bit too predictable for some, I bet. With the scuffling and charging happening all around the arena, it becomes hard to tell where the dire situation is happening and where is it being threatened... The last part about the seige of the Peaceful Promenade was a good twist that could have been golden, but I guess the thread needed to be finished.

Writing Style

I admit with all my heart... This is one category that is giving me a nasty headache to judge... The styles present are quite different and with varying degrees of literary styles it is hard to pinpoint what actually worked and what needs improvements. Therefore... Bear with me, I will walk you through as best as I can.

Mechanics - 7

A pain to read some, a relieve for some others. The great diversity in writing mechanics here gave me a proverbial pain in the beehind when trying to come up with a good average score for everyone and present a fair number for all. And that is what I came up with. Following this... I have a few advices for some people involved in this... Uhh... Frenzy.

DakkonRyck - Please take your time with each post and spell-check them when you have the time. I realized that you were short on that specific asset, but a quick read-through will help a lot. Also... It is a bit hard to separate the narration from the speech (asides from ones spoken by Aleria which were clearly marked in red. Try using quotations - you probably will convey some messages better with them than without.

Arsenic Ruin - You have a fairly good grasp on how the English language works, both the written and spoken form that is present. However, I neither see anything that is extraordinary or that sets you apart from the others... Your writing style is good, that I will admit, but it is a tad lack-luster at this current phase. I hope to read more and see how you progress so the judges like me can help you find your own style that is more effective for you.

Everyone Else - I see some glaring typos flying around the place from time to time, though not many that actually knocked me out of the reading mood and usually well far between each other. Some of you have nasty run-on sentences as your dominant style, so watch out for those as well. I have that problems at time as well, now that I think about it.

Technique - 6

Tough... Some of you have a great sense of using literary devices to convey the message... But some merely got lost in the scrambling and fighting. I see a few that really stood out - July and Christina being two of them - while the rest of you demonstrated a good deal but was not very impressive in the overall scale. Some of you even lacked noticable devices altogether and was inconsistent in using them. Do not despair, for these things can be trained and improved. With time.

Clarity - 5

I'm sorry, but it is just so hard to read with the clutter of action all going on at once - worse when four of you ganged up on Kedx at the same time. It get hard to understand near the end of the story, especially during the little fight that broke out between Leon, Djakara and the three (or six?) demons doing a blockade to the Promenade. In that particular instance, Arty appeared as if to be engaging (and slew) the very three demons that rushed Djakara. Coordinate with the people near your character, especially in hectic fights such as this. Actions that gets lost in the scuffle is a pain to comprehend.

Character

Another pain to judge. However, this was a bit better than judging Mechanics. Almost.

Dialogue - 6

I can't see much dialogue that actually tells how the characters are like on a deeper level, but judging by the way this thread was done and how much effort everyone had put in to make it work, good job. There were a few good ones, but the overall speeches and spoken words came out a tad cliche at times and wittily impressive for some others. Internal thoughts included. Then again, a thread with this much action going around all over the place is hard to hear even hear yourself think, much less hear other people at all.

Action - 7

Everyone did what they thought was best and try to live another day. Some were cliche and some were too smart for their characters. Overall, though, it was something that indeed made sense to me. Dire situations bring out the strangest quirks from the seemingly "normal" people of Althanas...

Persona - 6.5

There was a great mix of persona I had to keep separate from one another: The crazed lunatic Kedx hellbent on making a name for himself, Christina and a few hardy souls trying to stop him from rampaging across the Central Square, July and his strange admiration for the killing machine and Letho for busting in to "save the day." Things did not quite play out the way everyone hoped, but some of you displayed how your character matured (or regressed, in the case of Kedx during his final flight) in a very moving way. The majority, though, will need to work on that in their future works.

Miscellaneous

Oh. My. Grief. I can see Power-Gaming here...

Getting slashed at by a sword-weilding demon in midflight but landing as if there was nothing at all... That is very much powergaming as the reaction did not equate the action received. Airborne Target with Armor + Slashing Greatsword swung by a demonic soldier = Fly Swatter. Try hitting a textbook with a baseball bat... You'll get the same result as how this should end up as. Also... I still wonder up until now how in the world Kedx managed to escape from the cage of molten lava and the spire of ivy that wrecked through the wall behind him. I can get a bit more nit-picky with how the ivy emerged, but I'll just stop for now. I'm pretty sure the person knew what I meant. If not, you can always PM me.

Wild Card - 7.5

Wild and impacting... That's what kept me reading through despite the many pitfalls and terrible headache that followed. (Huh... Or maybe it's because I've yet to have dinner even though it's already 2:30 in the morning where I am?) The read was a bit hard to follow, but nonetheless I managed to make out where, when and what everyone was doing. Some of you even tied their action in with their surrounding and the other people present, which was better than just saying they're there and you're doing things on your own. That's not exactly the way a multi-player quest should go and you made it clear that was not the case. You worked together and the effects were felt. Good job, everyone.

Final Score - 64!

Kedx receives 0 EXP and loses some of his possessions to the defending heroes. (He's dead, after all. ;))
Djakara receives 580 EXP and the Bow along with its arrows.
Run receives 760 EXP and the infamous mask once worn by the crazed feline Kedx.
Christina Bredith receives 600 EXP and the slightly sooty Spidersilk Gloves. A bit of cleaning should do them good.
DakkonRyck receives 1020 EXP and the Mythril bracers.
Letho receives 1,410 EXP and the empty revolver known as Jeeves.
Arsenic Ruin receives 520 EXP and the Prevalida Daggers.
Artifex Felicis receives 620 EXP and the jacket with steel plate lining he stole from the store. The shopkeep never found out...
Izvilvin receives 1080 EXP and the twin Diamond daggers.
Zerith receives 370 EXP and the Flaming Rouge.

Because Underwood is in dire need of reconstruction and funding to rebuild their lives, they could not offer any monetary rewards to the heroes. The logging industry would also be in for a tough time as they worked even harder to meet the demands of the other Baronies as well as for use in reconstructing the lumber town. Thankfully, they still have the Peaceful Promenade to unwind at...

[Cyrus the virus]

EXP added! Great job Raven!

Christina levels up!