Private Tales Back in Black

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Garin's attention was solely fixed on the obstacle posed by Vorain, leaving him with few moments to take in all of the battle unfolding in his immediate surroundings; yet, this focus did not keep him from maintaining vigilance for any lurking threats that may seek to catch him off guard.

Facing off against an opponent who seemed to possess an otherworldly skill, he now found himself in uncharted territory. Her moves felt unpredictable due to her body's ability to morph; the strategy was foreign in his well practiced tactics. It became both a physical and mental battle, but he refused to allow the sense of unease to creep in, one he never experienced in the realm of combat.

The game of human chess became an intense challenge as he strategized to pin one of her limbs in submission and disable her. However, each time he thought he had succeeded, her body would bend once more in inhuman ways, evading his grasp. His persistence knew no bounds, so he tirelessly pressed on, refusing to give up despite the seemingly difficult odds. The Black Guard was certain he would be victorious. His mind raced ahead, analyzing her moves and working to predict her next step.

Alistair Krixus
 
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In Vorain's long career as an assassin, she had a reputation for efficiency and perfection. Hell, a Dreadlord could not get to level 1 without being near perfect. She had only suffered setbacks in her career from a very small number of losses. Being out maneuver by who she considered to be some of the brightest minds in Arethil.

However, what she was experiencing now was new. Garin was threatening to overpower her through sheer determination and strength. It was like watching a troll smash their head against a metal wall repeatedly until it shattered. The much more annoying part was that it was starting to work.

A frown slipped onto Vorain's face as she wrestled her right arm free once again before casting a spell with it. Like her original attack, Vorain slipped into Garin's shadow before appearing beneath the trees several years away. At the same time, the Dreadlord fighting Alistair managed to kick him back and backpedal very slightly.

"Unfortunately, I must be on my way. Henry, handle them."

Vorain ran off into the trees, while the remainder of her Dreadlord rebels remained to fight. This made no sense to Alistair who now figured they would clean up this group in now time. Of course, this belief was shattered as several individuals began to step out of the trees.

It had to at least be 70 people, but they were all beat up and pathetic-looking, maybe even starving. This must have been the people from the village they destroyed. One of the lead refugees called out weakly,

"Please, help us."

Garin Darmarr
 
Garin kept fighting to gain the upper hand. With determination in his eyes, he kept pressing, his muscles straining with effort. Victory finally seemed within reach. But then, in a sudden twist, she slipped through his grasp. Despite the confidence in his skill, she had eluded him with a move that caught him off guard. A second later, Vorain was far from his grasp.

The taste of blood lingered in his mouth as he felt the warm liquid trickle down the side of his face, a reminder of the dagger cut he had sustained earlier. Slowly he pushed himself up to his full height and immediately scanned the area, searching for the sword he had abandoned earlier. Retrieving it with a fluid motion, the search for Alistair began, though the task proved easier than expected as his adversary stood not too far away.

The Black Guard’s blade twirled effortlessly in his hand, feeling the weight ground him in a moment of uncertainty. A soft voice reached his ears, making him turn his head sharply to gaze upon the villager who unexpectedly approached. Though the words spoken fell upon deaf ears, it was not out of callousness, but rather a defensive measure to assess the situation. As more figures began to emerge from the shadows, their intentions unclear, his piercing orbs remained fixed on the frail figure before him. Before long, he found himself inexplicably drawing closer to Alistair, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his weapon. The Dreadlord had been the guiding force behind the mission from the very beginning, so it only made sense to follow his lead and bring their mission to a close in this place.
 
Even though Vorain was fleeing, none of their party ran off after her. They tightened formation, weary of the remaining Dreadlords they had to face. Alistair, for his part, did not even look to the citizens at first preferring to focus on their opponents. Besides, he could see that the citizens were weak and feeble, so even if they tried to attack they would be no match...wait. He could see them?

For this entire fight, Alistair had no need to activate his normal sight because he could see the Dreadlords easily thanks to their magical auras. Now, he could see each citizen through their own magical aura. Every single citizen had an aura, which was impossible. Even for a magically active culture like Vel Anir, the average magical population rarely rose above 30%.

Al's head whipped towards the citizens to get a closer look and only then did his face fall. Only Garin would hear a small whisper.

"Vorain, what have you done?"

The auras coming from these people were artificial and twisted in grotesque and unnatural patterns. No wonder these people were in pain, this sort of magical manipulation was the equivalent of putting someone in full body armor and then twisting the shape of the metal while the people were still inside.

"Everyone remove the Dreadlords as quickly as possible. Permission granted to use all abilities for speedy removal....Garin, you and me are dealing with the citizens."

Almost in response, the lead refugee's face began to almost melt down his face as their body began to morph. Others screamed in pain as their own transformations began.

The abominations that followed were an amalgamation of Lovecraftian nightmares, some bodies fusing to craft even larger creatures.

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Garin Darmarr
 
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As Garin stood in awe, his eyes transfixed on the sight before him, he struggled to find the right words to describe what he was witnessing. The events unfolding seemed to defy all logic and reason, leaving him with a sense of wonder and disbelief. Alistair's quiet whisper nearby only served to further validate the phenomenon playing out before them, as if confirming that what they were experiencing was indeed otherworldly.

The threat of the villagers turned foes did little to shake his composure. In the face of overwhelming odds, he remained resolute, displaying a sense of calm amidst the chaos. It was as though the very challenge of their predicament ignited a fire within him, only fueling his determination. The Black Guard welcomed the prospect of this uphill battle.

Each adversary that stood before them bore a unique form, a diverse array of shapes and sizes that were grotesque in nature. As he and Alistair stood side by side, their brief moments of collaboration offered a glimpse into the synergy that could possibly tip the scales in their favor. With the Dreadlord's mastery of magic and his own prowess in close combat, the potential strategy began to take shape in his minds; it felt like a plan that held promise in most scenarios, though nothing was ever guaranteed in the world they lived in.

Fixing his gaze forward, he positioned his longsword defensively, drawing a deep breath to steel himself for what lay ahead. Deciding it was best to go for a preemptive strike, he planted his feet firmly into the soil and propelled his body forward. With sword raised high, he closed in on the first adversary, trusting in Alistair to watch his flank and guard against any unseen threats. As he swung his sword high, the weapon would deliver a swift and precise strike that severed a mass of limbs with a single yet calculated blow.
 
Alistair had still not yet had a chance to showcase his own close combat abilities, and as far as Drealords went, he considered himself to be one of the best ones. However, Al also knew when to cover for other specialties. He was humble enough to know the Black Guard was served better on the frontline, leaving him to cover the gaps.

He started their strategy similar to their first fight. Various spells meant for restraining or slowing down the enemies were thrown out. At first, any spell Alistair used was non-lethal or even harmful. Some might think Al was growing soft as he tried to think of a way to save these civilians, but it was also far from it.

A sense of magical curiosity drove Alistair to try and find a way to reverse the magic, but the closer he looked the more he was impressed with Vorain's work. It wasn't a constant magical expenditure transformation with a possibility of reverting, like shape-shifting. No, the changes were permanent. These people...were essentially dead.

"Left!"

Garin Darmarr
 
The demise of the first in his path was finished. The creature fell to the ground, its grotesque form twitching in its final moments. But there was no time to revel in the victory. Yet, despite the satisfying thud of the fallen foe, the warrior's heart nearly sank as he gazed upon the horde of looming abominations that still surrounded him.

The odds were stacked against them, but he refused to yield to despair. Whatever magic Alistair was using seemed to prove successful in slowing the movements of their adversaries. Though confident in his own prowess with the blade, the knight couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards his companion for his timely intervention. Without the Dreadlord's magic to slow the abominations' movements, the situation would have been dire indeed.

As the commanding voice pierced through the chaos, he obeyed without hesitation. With a swift pivot to the left, his blade gleamed as it found its mark, penetrating the foe's chest with accuracy. Garin then deftly withdrew the weapon, ready for the next.
 
It only took a few seconds to analyze these creature's strengths and weaknesses. The things were strong it was obvious when there were clearly more muscles in their bodies, closer to that of animals than man. However, they were slower and lacked balance, likely from the varying number of limbs many of them were made from.

The first round of spells had set the battlefield with obstructions and other zones to slow down the beasts. Now came the funneling toward Garin, he would serve as the anvil that he would use to beat these creatures down.

Several runes floated up around Alistair's hands as he formed a 'V' with his two hands with Garin sitting in his vision at the base of the shape. With a large rumbling, earthen walls sprouted from each side of Garin forcing the creatures to attempt to climb the walls or take the easier option and run for Garin.

"Hold strong, until the others finish up their jobs."

Garin Darmarr
 
Garin focused on the approaching threat, his muscles tensing from the anticipation. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he prepared for the impending clash. An ominous rumble reverberated through the ground beneath him. Without hesitation, Garin instinctively knew the source of it; there was no doubt in his mind it was Alistair, the mastermind orchestrating everything from behind.

By now his confidence was unwavering in his partner's abilities. He then heard his words. There was no room for hesitation; he knew with certainty what was required of him. He fixed his gaze straight ahead, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade. The towering walls that acted as a barrier to the advancing monsters brought a sense of relief. Though these creatures moved slowly, their size did seem to pose a threat with some kind of distinctive strength.

The first monster’s limb emerged as it climbed its way up in an attempt to reach him. The Black Guard reacted with lightning speed. With a lethal swing of his sword, he intercepted the limb, cleaving it from the monster’s body before the rest of it even had a chance to come into view. It worked in the beginning, but given the sheer number of them, he was nearly forced on his back foot in time. Regardless, he was determined to hold his ground there.
 
Alistair largely kept the creatures contained by manipulating his walls to grow spikes whenever the abominations drew close or tried to climb over them. However, as he watched the battle, he saw that even with Garin's own strength and skill, trying to weather all of these creatures was going to be difficult.

"You'll be really sore later, but for now this will help."

The ground beneath Garin changed ever so slightly to draw a rune beneath his feet. The rune began to glow, and what followed would make Garin feel like he just took an adrenaline shot in the leg. He was stronger, faster, and more aware of everything around him.

Al did not make a habit of doing this to people, because it usually ended with them having to sleep off exhaustion for nearly a day since the spell used the energy of the person's own body to power themselves. In this moment...he would ask for permission after they survived.

Garin Darmarr
 
The spikes jutting out of the walls added another layer of defense, causing the monsters to hesitate. With the slowing of their advance, it gave him precious moments to regain whatever energy he could. But then a sudden surge of vitality swept through him, bringing a newfound strength that he had never experienced before. He looked down and noticed a radiant glow emanating from beneath his boots. The lighting from it was reassuring, and instantly he knew the source of it. He was willing to take whatever resources that Alistair provided, as returning back home alive was also an objective of his.

Garin effortlessly sliced through the monstrous creatures that dared to approach him now. As one drew near, he lunged forward, driving the blade deep into its chest, eliciting a roar that echoed through the air around them. As the intensity escalated, so did the pace of his movements.

The black armor that adorned his body became a canvas of blood as it splattered across the surface. Exposed skin on his arms and face also bore the mark of battle, mingling with sweat. Despite the chaos of it all, with bodies beginning to pile up, his energy was unwavering.
 
Alistair had carefully crafted the battlefield to his liking, and as a Proctor once told him at the Academy.

Don't fix it if it ain't broken.

All of the pieces were carefully placed so it was best to let the threat bash themselves against an unbreakable wall. He focused on maintaining the wall, but the first signs of the battle coming to its ends was when the first Black Guard member had finished off their rebel Dreadlord opponents and was now there to back up Garin.

He was confident Garin could have survived alone, but with the two of them there the odds were only going to increase as he was reinforced.

"Tighten the next...We can't let any of them escape."

Garin Darmarr
 
Garin was completely lost in the moment, so absorbed in his current stance that he didn't even notice the passage of time. Even with the otherworldly source of strength and the advantage it gave him,the onslaught of monsters seemed to be never ending. He had no opportunity to experience regret for the fact that they were once inhabitants of this village; now they were simply enemies.

Despite the continuous movements with his sword, he didn't feel any weariness. However, the sight of another Black Guard with the same ebony armor joining the fight was a reassuring feeling, serving as a morale boost. Just when he thought the intensity of everything had reached its peak, Alistair's commanding voice from behind seemed to inject another level of determination and power into the mix.

He felt invincible.

Fueled by the words, he locked eyes with one of the monsters, daring it to come closer. And as it rose above the wall, Garin lifted his blade. With a fierce swing through the air, he struck the creature with all his might, decapitating it in one motion. The severed head rolled between him and the man fighting alongside him.
 
Alistair finally completely left the frontal battle to Garin and his compatriot. He instead focused on any strangers who tried to move around the walls, or worse attempt to flee. Arcane bolts of magical energy shot out striking these foes and killing them as quickly as possible.

Another member of the Vigilite must still be hidden in the trees as several arrows descended to assist him in this endeavor.

Slowly, but surely the battle came to a close.

Suck in a deep breath, Alistair gathered himself.

"Garin, we need to make sure everyone of them is dead...If any of the rogue Dreadlords survived then we take them alive."

Garin Darmarr
 
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