A New Power

[ObsidianKnight]

Armiena sheathes her sword, and realizes that she's shaking from adrenaline letdown. It had been a very long time since she had fought in a real battle, much less without armor.

 

She descends from her position on the wall, and stumbles to her knees. It was a very long day.......

 

She gets back up, and sees Quarian speaking to an unknown Habassan soldier at the gate. That's not Alenee! What's going on here? Somewhere in the back her mind, Armiena realizes that's she's asked herself that question about 20 times in the last few hours.

[thanateros]

Vengul noted the sudden shift in favorable circumstances towards the defending mercenaries. However, the barage of arrows inflicted casualties on both sides as men opposed the invaders pouring over the walls. The battle in the field appeared won. Yet the skirmish on the ramparts was dense.

 

He used any means to clear a path to a ladder so he could chop down invaders as they ascended over the wall. He wailed at nearby defenders to assist in his effort, making way to a group of ladders that were not cut down.

 

While several defenders engaged some invaders that managed to succeed the risky climb Vengul darted straight for the ladders themselves. Slicing through invaders as their unfortunate initiative was greeted with a swift death Vengul bought enough time to relieve the ramparts of one ladder. Which to his amusment and delight fell onto the invaders below. Two. Three. Four ladders pushed off the wall; the ramparts were greatful for his effort to release their weight from its structure. So were the men. With a new morale and intensity that can only be driven by apparent victory they swept the remaining invaders from the wall like a broom whiping up dust as a result of sweeping the floor; only the dust was the shower of enemy blood on experienced armor and men.

 

The storm was dissipating on the wall; there were still a handful of invaders to greet.

 

The smell of blood and sweat mixed reminded Vengul of his days as a Raider from the far eastern waters. For a moment he tried to remember what compelled him to leave. His thoughts were interrupted by an invader who broke the defending ranks of mercenaries. Vengul administered a rageful blow unto the lad that sliced his eyes and cracked the bridge of his nose. Jelly poured from his eye sockets followed by streams of blood...then the screaming. The satisfaction of making this insect suffer alluded to the instinct that he avenged the interruption of his thoughts by the assailant.

 

However, he could not easily return to his contemplations; there were matters that required his effort. Though the ladders had been abolished their affect was resonating from the cries of pain and shock by mercenaries who made the critical error in combat.

 

"Kill them before they kill you," the thought suddenly assaulted his whole body to swell with anticipation as three invaders marked his head all at once. The thought slowly faded away as though it were a sentence written on a blackboard whose contents scattered via a forceful gust of wind. By the time the blackboard was clear of the message Vengul stood over three dead invaders.

 

As the remaining invaders were cracked, thrown, or pummeled to death Vengul took time to take from his side a canteen of water and splash its cool contents into his mouth. This introduced his mind to new ideas about battle as he studied the wounds of the three dead invaders that challenged him. Gulping this moment of serenitity among the chaos as he had done with the water to his thirst, Vengul absorbed the handle of his sword into his essense, waiting again for scattered blackboard contents to produce dead invaders.

[Chunky_Moose]

(OOC: Read about my character in the sign-up sheet...btw, after today, i'll be away until the 22nd)

 

"Left...Left...Left, Right, Left...Left...Left...Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left...Left..."

 

Julius had been on the march for almost five hours now without a break. His entire regiment was hastily being marched towards the Imperial Capital and the men had been told to expect huge numbers of well-armed experienced soldiers to fight against. This surprisingly lifted the spirits of the regiment instead of depressing them, the entire regiment was elite, all of its soldiers were veterans of many campaigns against such enemies but they were not as prepared to go and put down a rebellion as they were both unfamiliar with a rebel army's disorganised behaviour and they were vulnerable to its guerilla tactics.

 

Julius, the soon-to-be captain, looked around at his regiment. He smirked to himself as he knew that soon, some of these men would be under his command. His feet ached from the long march and he knew that they would not be stopping for another hour at least but he was happy nevertheless. Just the thought of going into combat, killing those who opposed the Emperor, and of course getting promoted to become a commissioned officer made him happy. So, he blocked out the pain, and thought about the honours he would receive as soon as he goes into combat, in approximately a week's time.

[Shadow of the Fallen]

After a short time, Thrin began to toss and turn in the bed. His sleep had become restless, and his dreams were disturbing...

 

He woke with a start, dripping in a cold sweat. It was dark.. Or so it seemed.. His eyes began to focus on the sudden rush of light.. His dream ran over and over in his mind, trying to burn itself in his mind as if it were something important. Almost as if some hidden truth gathered itself into the picture and sound.. Like some kind of masquerading (sp!! I know thats not right) prophesy. An empty whisper of shadowy figures lost to the void of darkness.

 

When he could finnaly see again, he couldn't remember even the last few moments. Though he knew it had been clear in his mind only a moment before. Now it was but a fleeting memory, lost to the winds of thought. he struggled to bring back the dream, he knew it was somehow vital, but he couldn't even remember why.

 

Finnaly recovered from the rest, yet a bit shaken by the dream, Thrin set about assesing his wounds from the previous battle. His left arm still stung, and he had been resting on it apparently. He realized that he was still piss tired, the battle had been the fiercest he had ever fought, and the fatigue was equaly so.

 

He checked the makeshift bandages he had acumulated in the chaos, they needed to be changed, and he should have a poultice put on some of his injuries.

 

Thrin glanced around, looking for his weapons. It took him a moment to find them, stacked in a neat pile by the other soldiers gear. He made the bed and left the room, again holding his two swords, and his hunting knife belted around his waist. He settled into his brooding mood, remembering that he and Quarian had some unfinished business.

 

He counted hallways, exits, soldier locations, and other useful things like armories while he passed through the webway of passageways, heading for the nearest medic. The soldier he had asked about it seemed freindly enough now, but should things go sour he may not be so freindly. Still.. Thrin was more relaxed then usual, after meeting Quarian on the battlements he had sensed that things wouldn't turn out so bad.

 

Or so he hoped.

 

The count is at 26, I dont need my 27th to be a possible ally.

 

OOC/EDIT: Sry again all, I fixed this post now, should say "After a short time," instead of "After a few hours,". Again, you have my apologies.

[MDRud216]

plz don't skip ahead "a few hours" when their is an important time sensitive event going on like the conversation between Quarain and Aeiser. It really screws things up, and Peregrine, disregard the hour skip and make your post as a a few hours earlier post.

[Shadow of the Fallen]

:( My bad... Sorry about that, it was kind of a half standstill... The Chunky Moose dude posted and then it was all empty...

 

And to be honest I didn't think I left the "After a few hours," in there.. But oh well, its said and done now. If you want.. you can disregard the whole post. It makes no difference to me, I can do something different later..

 

You all have my sincerest of apologies, and I will detain you no longer.

[thanateros]

That errie, dense silence indicative of the denoument of battle seeps into Vengul's pores. Taking one knee he wiped his blood spattered sword off on the exposed shirt of a dead invader. On the ramparts, mercenaries tend to the wounded and gather up un-splintered weapons and seemingly useful armor from fallen comrades or nameless invaders.

 

Vengul notices the conference taking place beneath him near the front gates of the city. He hastily swigs away the remainder of his water and finds a spear, lodged into the torso of a mercenary, and replaces the one splintered so soon after he joined the fray.

 

As the conference continues he strains his ears to make out what they're saying while combing over hordes of dead bodies, foregoing the putrid smell of bile and exposed flesh bubbling with blood for the hope that a valuable prize will be uncovered. He pockets the small amounts of gold that some invaders had stowed away under their armor; he feels like a petty thief but when he realizes how much he's gathered he feels slightly better knowing he'll be in bed with a full stomach and a mistress.

 

Not realizing how much time passed, hours it seems, the sudden flood of how badly he needs to urinate makes him feel like a relic hunter who has unexpectedly triggered a trap that will cause their doom. He drops his pants and relieves himself on the wall, which for so long he has taken such care and self risk in defending. He can't help but feeling slightly guilty, as though he's pissing on a holy site.

 

Once he finishes he makes his way off of the wall, giving shoulder pats to defenders as he descends. When his feet touch solid earth he looks back up to the ramparts. It seems like a different reality yet to get from it only took about 30 steps.

 

I can never go back, he confides to himself as he approaches the gate, consumed by majesty.

[Peregrine]

As Aseir looked around the inside of the fortress, new hatred filled his mind. The enemy that had murdered so many innocent people couldn't be human. He'd known losses had been bad, of course, but nothing had prepared him for the sight of so many dead victims. And if this was "victory", what would have happened if they had lost? The thought sent a chill beyond fear of death through him...

 

After a few moments of silence, Aseir finally turned back to reply to Quarian, the strain of battle finally showing in his expression. "This won't be the end you know...." He looked back at the ruins of the city for a moment. "They won't stop at one city. Gather your senior officers and find us a private place to talk. We're too late for these people, but we can not let mourning delay our defense of the rest of the Empire."

 

He walked away towards his waiting officers, losing himself in planning the details of guard duties.

[thanateros]

Noticing that Quarian is addressed by a man who appears to assume authority over the mounted relief Vengul strides up the Quarian.

 

"What's to be done with the dead? They can't be left to decay and spread disease," he catches himself, "Forgive me, I'm Vengul a Raider from the Eastern waters."

 

He pauses, waiting for a reply.

[ObsidianKnight]

Finally, it appeared that the battle was over, and Armiena was largely unscathed, except for a badly scratched-up back (from the storehouse roof), and being covered with black, dusty soot.

 

She goes scavenging around the Palace, and just ignored Quarian and the Habassan captain while they talked at the gate. Details could wait for later. She prods through the battle's dead, searching for intact armor, until she's met with a gruesome surprise. She trips on a body, and curses at herself at being so foolish. Then, she hears movement.

 

An Imperial soldier weakly grasps his broadsword, trying to attack Armiena despite his wounds. He lets his sword fall through his fingers, and she sees his wound. An arrow protuded through his neck, grazing his throat and spinal column. It was a minor miracle that he was still alive at all.

 

Armiena kicks his sword away, and pulls him up. She pulls off his helmet, and prepares to break his neck. She asks "Want me to?", and the soldier weakly nods, beyond speech, already slipping into shock.

 

She snaps his neck, and takes his armor off, claiming it for her own.