A New Power

[Shadow of the Fallen]

Fluid grace held every single movement, the mask of professionalism now plastered to Thrin's face. Death rang along with the cold steel around him as he closed in on each individual target. The man he had slain in his descent had provided him with the broadswords twin, which he now weilded with deadly proficiency. The flash of blades was doubled with its aquisition, providing him more of an edge on the group around him.

 

He saw everything as if from the outside his own thoughts, adrenaline having taken hold on his body. Time stood still for the deadly ex-smuggler, time he used to count every bloody instant his actions. He could see the beads of sweat, count them too if he wanted, feel the individual vibrations as his weapons clashed with theirs. He heard the whistling in his ears as his lighting fast strikes swept around him, and through his enemy's gaurd.

 

He saw every droplet of blood as his sword peirced a mans stomach, its double parrying a high thrust from the man his opposite. Effortlessly, he pulled the first blade free, spinning out of his parry and around another thrust at his chest. In the whirlwind movement, he caught the man who had just attacked on the side of the head with his fist, and then with a sword in his back. Death coiled in before the man had found the ground, Thrin stepping over him to get at the last remaining soldier.

 

Without his comrads, the soldier had taken a desperate look in his eyes as he saw the last of his comrads fall, knowing he had not long left himself. He lashed out wildly, hoping to catch Thrin at his flank. Mistake. He cut wide, letting Thrin pass without even a break in stride. The response was a blade planted firmly between the eyes.

 

The man crumpled backward, brain dead but heart still beating. His entire body ridged with the force. Slowly, his legs gave out from under him, and his body fell from the sword, the face slipping away from the bloody blade and the man that still held it firm. Thrin watched in morbid fascination as the disfigured eye stared at him unseeing, ruined along with the mind that controled it. With only an instant of hesitation, Thrin began to bound down the steps towards the crowd, and the riders.

[Vao]

OOC: F*ck. Removed.

[MDRud216]

One of the last men on the battlements released the lever to the right of the Gallows; a similar system used to open the much larger gates at Galor. The lever's position change suddenly released a counter-weight, suspended by chain, which yanked the gate beneath you into the hallow in the wall.

 

The elite riders skidded to a halt, turning quickly to face the rebels rushing down the weak inner steps that descended from the gallows. The part summoned in the growing crowd outside melted away as they rushed in to see what was happening. A few moments ago the real cheering had begun as the Imperial soldiers began dying.

"Halt! you infidel, Halt, I command you!" the leader yells, the sword he motions at you with gleams with sunlight as the brown dust from the horse hooves envelopes the other riders.

 

You stop curiously, even in your bloodlust and give attention to the brilliantly armored rider 10 meters off. He lowers his commanding blade as the dust removes itself from the riders behind him. He pauses, taking in the bloody scene, "The Habassan, Aseir Miristar negotiated your release five minutes ago," he says the last phrase with particular irritability. "If you still want the oppurtunity your horses are in the stables."

 

Although confused that your release was not compromised by your actions you go to the stables anyway, retrieving your mount. When you emerge from the shack, built onto the wooden wall of the fort Quarian is mounted as well; shaken, but being assisted by one of the escort riders.

 

In a few moments you are all across the bridge, Aseir sits proudly upon his mount several meters ahead and Tarysus is off to the side, slumped in his saddle. You can count seven corpses at various places drifting silently downstream on the Rakatal River.

[Peregrine]

All released and unharmed, Aseir noted with satisfaction as he surveyed the released prisoners. Poor Tarysus doesn't get an easy death with honor after all...

 

When he finally returned his attention to Tarysus, the commanding tone in his voice was obvious. Aseir held all the cards in this game, and he knew it just as well as his defeated enemy. But he didn't waste times with games and humilliating Tarysus. Instead, his order was short and simple.

 

"You have bought my time, Tarysus. Now state the terms of your surrender."

[MDRud216]

ooc: sorry, I have been in bed with fever since my birthday.

 

An expression of immesurable disappointment appeared on Tarysus face.

Quickly, it was replaced by one of anger and he said, "Surrender?" with open disbelief. "I am no threat to you or your nation!" He backed up his horse, unsure of what he was to do-

Galloping.

From around the hills two riders appeared, yelling and turning to look back over their shoulders; Galoric scouts.