Quest The Reclamation of Vel Istra

[Ania]

Nearly as suddenly as Ania had passed over the sunken tree limb did it erupt from the depths in a violent expulsion. Turns out it wasn’t a root or limb at all, instead it was the rotted bloated corpse of a once proud Anirian soldier. And, flanking it on the left, was the re-animated corpse of an ugly looking elf.

Whatever awful curse the elves used to corrupt this land had caused even the dead to be restless.

“Typical elven trickery,” she shouted as she drew her slender blade. Assessing the obviously more threatening ex-Anirian first she swung her weapon with such grace that its head was separated from its body in a fountain of centuries old blood.

Undisturbed by the gore and slippery terrain the pale warrior caught her balance before pivoting towards the cadaver on the left. The pointed end of her weapon gashing into the deceased amalgamation’s eye socket. She pulled the blade diagonally causing the top half to sever and leaving the corpse as lifeless as it had been prior to the dreadlord’s arrival.

Just up ahead Ania caught sight of their commander, engulfed in flame, as corpses burnt up around her. The rest of her comrades were struggling to fight off the growing numbers of the undead. “Stick with Selene!” the stalwart servant of Vel Anir called out. It was obvious they wouldn’t stand a chance if they stuck around in this bog for too long.

They had to keep moving.

 

[Evangeline]

Even as their leader left them behind and became a blazing beacon of flame, incinerating all that drew near, the comrades around Evangeline fought with fervor. Blades and magic began to sing through the air the moment Evangeline had called the Dreadlords to battle. A shame that Selene didn't seem to care, though that was hardly a surprise at this point. Evangeline had come to understand long ago that her peers from other houses were not individuals that could be relied upon.

“Stick with Selene!”

It was hardly the Level Three's place to be giving out orders, and being that close to a living column of fire seemed less than ideal, but the mission was in fact within the walls of Vel Istra. Getting out of the swamp took priority here.

"Dreadlords, to me!" She called out before rushing forward. She planned to cut a safe path through the marsh for her allies, and her magic would serve to do so with utmost efficiency. A great many zombies stood between her and Selene now, but they were as tissue paper before a hurricane.

Evangeline's form visibly blurred as her Acceleration activated. She started to swing her blade and suddenly shot ahead, faster than the eye could see and straight through a trio of walking corpses. She didn't even have to look back, only listened for the faint sound of their severed top halves falling wetly into the mud. She repeated the process again and again, forming a zigzag pattern across the swamp and cutting down one undead after another, never once stopping to check the fruits of her labor. The other Dreadlords would quickly find themselves with a lack of targets as she made her way forward.

The Second Level's path was abruptly cut short, however, as a particularly large zombie burst from the murky depths. An undead ogre, it seemed, roared to unlife, blocking her final push to Selene. Evangeline holstered her blade and ducked a groping swipe from the brute, then rushed into it and uttered a single word.

"Decay."

All she had to do was lay a finger on the monster and it stopped swinging its massive arms about. Within seconds its hulking form fell apart, rapidly rotting and becoming one with the mush from whence it came. Evangeline straightened her coat, breathed, and continued her walk towards the gate at a leisurely pace. No need to get herself incinerated by her superior.

 

[Zana]

"Oh you want to play with magic do you? As you wish," it was a calm statement of fact, her face remained emotionless apart from the slight twinkle in her eye. Zana was not on the cusp of a Level Two for no reason and she was not here to mess around. Balancing with grace like a water dancer on the bobbing head of an elf she had just decapitated she spread her arms out, palms facing upwards, and let the magic rush through her. The earth trembled beneath their feet and a few of the apprentices and Dreadlords who were sticking to the more senior House Luana Dreadlord stumbled, clutching for purchase onto whatever they could. The bodies of the rising dead within a half mile radius were suddenly helped on their way to the surface and thrown five meters into the air. She could not control the human body with her powers as of yet, though stronger TKs could and her Mentor believed that was the direction Zana's own powers were going, but she could control the clothing and pieces of armour these dead creatures wore.

As Zana closed her fist these little pieces of fabric, metal, anything about their person scurried to the creatures four limbs and wrapped themselves tightly around ankles, wrists, necks. Then the Dreadlord opened her hands and the bodies began to be torn apart by whatever objects they wore upon their pearson. Across the field where her magic reached the dead were torn apart by their very last remnants of humanity.

Zana dropped her hands and the sky rained with broken body parts and blood as Zana calmly stepped past her friend and followed in the direction of Selene.

"Keep up Flo, I believe you were just telling me where you are taking me for drinks," a soft chuckle could be heard from within the helmet.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe hadn't been paying much attention to Zana or the game that they had committed to. At the moment she was balancing precariously on a platform of her own making and she was waiting for the inevitable - waiting for it to collapse. Fortunately, it wasn't until the tenth consecutive headshot that it started to waver. Arguably, it wasn't her fault. Flashes of impossible light, walls of sudden intense flame, had created unpredictable thermal pockets that had forced her to try and stabilise erratic currents and eddies.

Before she lost her footing, Florinthe somersaulted down from her platform, her spear landing into a final zombie and she elegantly pole-vaulted beside Evangeline - spear in hand. With a wave of her free palm, the platform dissipated and she strode confidently behind the second-level. Her face turned towards Zana at the back of the group and, not wanting to irritate the higher-ranked Dreadlord, she mouthed the following.

"14 down, I should get bonus points for the flip and vault at least" She smiled contentedly. The seriousness of the situation was not lost on her, but the game had eased her somewhat. The growing threat of the ominous glow-in-the-dark city felt less. Yet she still felt like she was being watched.

 

[Vittorio]

Vittorio was disappointed. While a particularly lazy day for him (mood wise, that is,) he was still envious at the fun his comrades were having during this. He had fun when he fought the orcs and the rebels? Was there just no stakes enough in this? After all, the Dreadlords he fought alongside showed no sign of breaking a sweat while fighting the undead.

He was growing tired of fighting half risen corpses that could only bat at his legs, it felt pointless. He wanted threat. He wanted something to make his heart race. He wanted so badly to feel something.

But it didn't come. His stature and his fighting style became much less stylish as time passed on. He watched as everyone else slaughtered there prey with some sort of sheen in their eyes. All while he sat there wishing he could go home and do anything else.

How unfortunate. He thought there'd be more.

 

[Selene Avar]

The others eventually managed to catch up with her.

One by one they fell into stride onto the road by the gate, some breathing heavily, others wearing smiles on their faces. Selene glanced back at them for only a moment, shaking her head and letting out a quiet sigh as she looked up towards the gate.

That odd sense of dread was now more powerful than ever, a pit forming in the depths of her stomach as it gnawed away at her.

What is it? The thought rang through her mind. You faced death, yet this weighs?

Selene thought herself pathetic. There had to be some odd twist of magic, some strange shifting of the very air that made no sense. A breath filled her lungs, and she slowly took a step towards the massive wooden gates. They stood near twenty times taller than her, inlaid with steel and flecks of golds.

Like the walls around them, they stood firm.

"Break it down." She said to the others, watching as that odd green ebb of light slowly flowed down from the top of the gate.

 

[Ademar Acero]

The hulking Dreadlord of House Virak had faced many kinds of hostiles, but never a soldier with rotten flesh and rusted bones. He had heard the powers of necromancy, and the idea of it seemed perverted to him. The little humanity with him truly believed that the dead should rest at peace without some sorcerer taking reigns of their sleeping souls and manipulate them to their own wants.

That being said there had to be an ancient necromancer of some sorts taking residence in Vel Istra, or simply the Elves left a wound in this city without magic running about unchecked, acting like having mind of its own but with little control over what it did.

No time to make theories, or else there would be an open grave for them to have.

The Second Rank Dreadlord caught up with his fellow comrade of House Virak, pleased to see one of his banners leading this operation. Him and one of Pirian were of the second rank as far as he knew, the rest were mostly third level Dreadlords and perhaps a few second levels.

A gate with a height of twenty feet towered them, and its wood was still in relatively good condition. Selene could try burning it down, but that would cost them time and wasting more time meant more undead corpses swarming them. This here was one of the many wonders Ademar’s magic could be applied. He could not conjure fireballs nor command the winds, but his magic while not ranged was not nothing to laugh at.

Two palms touched the wooden gate and began to absorb its hardness, making the material weak as the seconds passed by. At this cost his skin was as dense, able to endure a slash of a sword and not suffer a wound. Satisfied with his work, he walked backwards from the gate and prepared a sprint. The juggernaut of the Dreadlord ran with great speed and power, his shoulder lowered as he prepared impact; splinters of wood flew when Ademar broke through the gate which left a large hole that lines of two could enter.

He could have torn it down, but either method worked.

 

[Ania]

Once the contingency of dreadlords reached the gates of Vel Istra the massive wooden barrier seemed to stand as a mockery. Ania wished her magic proved useful here. Selene wanted the gate removed, the servant of Weiroon longed to be useful, but fate had other plans.

Luckily, Ademar had arrived and within seconds he had turned the once imposing barrier into a pile of sawdust. The glory being hogged by a member of House Virak wasn’t ideal but it was better than a dreadlord pledged to the ruling council.

Ania and some of the other dreadlords followed Ademar into the walls of Vel Istra. It was a city forgotten by time, forgotten by humans. Crumbled buildings, rubble, abandoned carts and weapons, boarded up homesteads, and a few too many skeletal remains littered their surroundings.

No sooner had Ania been able to take in her surroundings than a blood curdling screech rang out from the heavens. Something was flying overhead. Whatever the creature was it was large. And angry.

 

[Evangeline]

The other Dreadlords made good time through the swamp. Evangeline quietly observed from near the gate as they carved their way through the remaining forces assailing them, ready to step in should one falter. Thankfully, none of them did. As they all began to catch up Selene gave the order to break down the gates. It likely would've taken some time for the solid looking would to burn or decay from either of the women's magic individually, but together...

Among the first to arrive at the gate was Evangeline's hulking, fellow Second Level, Ademar. She recalled that their powers were vaguely similar, though Ademar, thick-headed Virak brute that he was, preferred to use his raw strength over any form of strategy. Thankfully, in this case, that was exactly what was needed. Evangeline watched as the man simply tore a gaping hole through the front gate of Vel Istra, creating a convenient entryway for their assault force. It seemed there would be no need for Evangeline and Selene to cooperate after all.

Pirian's Pride stood by and allowed many of the other Dreadlords to file in first, keeping a watchful eye over her juniors to make certain that none were left behind. Once confident that they were all accounted for, she nodded to Selene and entered Vel Istra proper.

It was a veritable graveyard. Somehow the view managed to exceed how derelict and ominous Evangeline had envisioned the place to be. Vel Istra positively reeked of fell magic and death. Whatever had happened here so long ago, this place was now forsaken, never intended for humans to again walk her streets. As if to solidify the horrible sight, that otherworldly shriek filled the ears of every present Dreadlord.

Evangeline called out once again, drawing her blade and standing ready. There would be no sanctuary within Vel Istra.

"On your toes, warriors! We've only just begun!"

 

[Zana]

This wasn't a city it was ruins.

Perhaps one might have been able to see the beauty of it in the cold light of day but no sunshine favoured them today. The eerie green mist was thicker here and roved through archways, snaked round buildings, and oozed into every little crevasse it could wriggle its slimy way into. A few of the Apprentices coughed and waved it away from their face. Very slowly, Zana pulled up the piece of silk she wore about her neck to cover her mouth and nose under her helmet. She was absolutely certain breathing the stuff in was a bad idea.

Shadows moved within the thicket further on in the city.

But there was a more pressing concern above them now. The screech drew all eyes to the sky and from the turbulent clouds flew a creature of horror. Upon its head were horns like a bull but they were the length of Zana's entire body, honed into razor sharp points. It's tattered wings didn't look like it could support even the skeletal body it possessed but somehow it managed, perhaps fuelled by the blue glow within its chest cavity. The group of apprentices who had been first through after Ademar didn't get much of a warning.

Evie's warning rang out, had them turning so all they could do was watch their death approach. The creature grabbed a claw full of them on its downward swoop and flung them against the walls of a ruined church as if they were nowt. Their screams were cut off as their necks broke on impact. Another, and another fell from the sky and set the area aflame before picking more of them off. She saw Evangeline snatched up by the maws of death, Ademar broken by a swipe of a tail, Selene surrounded by flames ablaze, Flor...

Zana stumbled as she walked through the gaping hole in the door, one hand pressed to her eyes in pain. She held the column up for a second as she collected herself. One version of events that could unfold in the next few minutes. Her gaze roved for the group who had perished first, a little ahead of them. Zana pushed off the door and forced the nausea down, her hands were moving before the screech sounded, as Evie spoke - the moment these men were meant to die.

The wall of the Church that would have meant their death was gone and soaring through the air as Zana stepped twice in quick succession and pushed her hands outwards. Bricks and mortar flew either side of her and shot forward towards the group that would have been caught up in the razor talons. The attack hit the creature on its underbelly and it howled in rage before diverting its course. The apprentices were dusty and bewildered but fine for now.

The future shifted.

 

[Wulfric]

The skeletons were simple creatures, felled easily by the apprentice's blade. Thus far his blade had been a halberd, breaking through bone like an ax with the distance of the a spear. The weapon's speed was not that of a sword, and it's heft precluded the use of a shield, but nothing was perfect. This . . . thing flying through the air was something entirely different. Wulfric got the feeling if the House Luana Dreadlord hadn't blasted the beast with bricks he would have met his end.

Not a good look.

Many of Wulfric's former classmates already had already found mentors, and their status wasn't necessarily impacted by a poor mission's performance. Wulfric on the other hand, had no such benefit, and a poor job on the mission could ruin his career. In short, he needed to step up.

Wulfric held out his his halberd, which began to shift and created a pointed spring at his right hand. Eyeing the beast he lunged the metal in his hand towards the beast, the spring extending and slimming into the air until it broke through one of the skeletal beast's ribs, and created a hook. With a bit more concentration the magic further shaped his weapon, pulling Wulfric into the sky and trailing the beast.

Truth be told, he had no idea what he was going to do to the beast when he got close to it, but at least he was doing something.

 

[Selene Avar]

The horrid screech of the demons resounded throughout the ruined scape of the city. One swooped low in a meager attempt to swipe at the Dreadlords. It was blasted away a second later, and then one of the Apprentices caught it with an odd hook like weapon and was quickly pulled into the air.

Selene looked up, glancing after the beast for a brief second before another one of the creatures suddenly appeared on the spire of one of the nearby buildings.

The beasts mouth fell open, an odd glow erupting from it's jaw. There it lingered for a second, and then with a pulse the glow launched itself forward. The air seemed to shimmer and break in it's weak, and Selene let out a curse.

Her hand swiped upwards, a line of flame launching out from her hand.

An explosion erupted as the two forces struck one another. The shockwave rushing outward quickly, causing dust and debris to fly into the air as two more of the creatures pounced down from the sky and into the Dreadlord column.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

A cold wind washed over Florinthe as she caught sight of Zana protecting the group. Her comrade always had a knack for knowing exactly when, or where, her assistance was needed. It happened all too frequently for Florinthe to dismiss it as mere luck, but Dreadlords did not question the unspoken. Secrets were better left unshared. Regardless, she nodded thanks to Zana - unsure if she'd have been quick enough herself to stop the collapsing structure.

Hell erupted all around her. Several great skeletal beasties had emerged, the first one snagging a poor apprentice. She felt a tug on her heartstrings and glanced round to see many of her comrades shrug dismissively. He was an apprentice, he was but a fly to most of the people that had gathered - he was on his own. She sighed, the other skeletal demons had taken the attention of everyone else, it was up to her.

Carefully, Florinthe dropped her current spear into her holster and withdrew a strange-looking replacement. Unlike a usual spear, the haft tapered out into a metal end that was almost reminiscent of a drill bit. Corkscrew in design, the weapon got progressively narrower and ended with a small, sharp, nib.

"Zana, I'm borrowing you and your shield." She gave no more warning and sprinted towards her comrade, weaving through the crowd of Dreadlords effortlessly and collected wind all the while. Without hesitation, and with the meagrest of preparation time, she watched Zana hoist her shield into a ready - and knowing - stance. In response Florinthe somersaulted onto the flat surface, only to be catapulted into the air after the apprentice.

Florinthe began to spin. The wind she'd hoarded began to wrap itself endlessly around her, the higher she rose the more wind she could collect. Carefully, the Dreadlord gained speed and straightened out. Her spear extended out in front of her and she shot - like a drill - towards the apprentice's captor.

She collided with the beast as it tried to escape, striking into the flank of the huge skeletal monstrosity. Her spear met the warded bone and she was forced to release more magic to penetrate the flank. A surge of wind erupted around her, her rotation suddenly increasing rapidly. A chunk of the beast was shorn off, but it remained alive and unabated as the three of them crashed onto the roof of a nearby building.

 

[Ania]

More of these foul winged demons swarmed the group of dreadlords, taking an apprentice here or swiping with a mighty talon there. Their wings seeming to kick up more and more of the greenish mist that permeated the forsaken grounds of Vel Istra. Ania took in a deep breath, she always longed for battle but something here was different. These creatures weren't like her typical adversaries, they didn't resemble humans in form or shape. Could they even feel fear? Could they feel pain?

For much of her life Ania required direct eye contact for her magic to take hold. After her embarrassing failure at the hands of a blind dreadlord from Sirl she spent what felt like an eternity in a Weiroon dungeon. Blindfolded and not permitted to leave until she improved. Until her abilities broke through a handicap she hadn't been capable of surpassing for her entire existence.

Ania focused on one of the flying beasts and concentrated hard. Rage was always useful for fueling her magic. Rage at the non-human races that held Vel Anir back. Rage at the blind girl who had bested her. She felt it then, the connection with the creature was formed. It felt different than most of her targets over the years.

Much different.

An intense heat welled up within her. What likely felt normal for a demonic hellbeast felt like the sensation of being on fire for Ania. She gritted her teeth, she'd felt fire before. It wasn't so bad once you learned to ignore the unrelenting pain and the high temperature. She doubted though that the demon had ever felt lacerations to the flesh or a migraine or internal bleeding. With a clenching fist she let the creature experience all three at once, for the first time.

It let loose a terrifying scream of agony as it collapsed into the ground, twisting and sputtering bile. Making it a defenseless target for her fellow dreadlords.

 

[Drederick]

For much of the journey to Vel Istra, Drederick had sat quietly atop his horse reading from a worn leather bound book. He'd been addressed a few times along the way, and painfully his attention was torn from the pages of dark texts that held firmly his interest. Dark spells, malevolent conjurings. Curses. Oh how he enjoyed the sickly cold of death, and the chill of its embrace with every spoken spirit.

Not here, not from him, not in front of all of...them. His peers - for now at least. It would take much time, but eventually he would rise atop of every single one of them. Even Selene, who he held a quiet contempt mixed with a genuine admiration. She too, would be left behind him.

It was only a matter of time.
​

When the dead had risen and they fought to undo them, from time to time a chilling laugh could be heard - like nothing that had ever emerged from him before, filling the air over the sound of clashing steel. He broke them where they rose, and stomped their wretched skulls - especially the elves.

One day, he would burn all of Falwood to the ground. Glorious. He hated elves. He hated their ears, he hated their magic, he hated their history. Long had they been a thorn in the side of Man's advancement - and in that, his advancement. Vengeance, when the time came, would be swift.

But for now, as what appeared to him to be like unto undead wyverns began to fly overhead and seek to stop them here, he would have to find contentment in crushing them instead.

Selene finally seemed to be stayed by one such creature's attack, which both filled him with joy and dread. Joy at her being forced to address something, dread that something other than he had done it. Still, it caused a wry grin across face, even as more of the monsters dove to strike at them. He caught a glimpse of Wulfric as he was snatched up by one of the winged fiends.

Poor bastard.

Of them all, Wulfric would have had his aid. But in this circumstance he was beyond Drederick's help. Luckily, some of the more experienced of their group took to his rescue, elating any need for his consideration. Instead, he focused on a problem of his own - another of the creatures hurtling toward them.

This was his first real mission.

Damned he'd be, to look like a fool here.

He moved to intercept it, but it recoiled and writhed and fell to the ground in a heap. Ania had done her work to the beast, making it an easy target - especially for him. He moved to attack it, charging his sword with his power of lightning. He stabbed the sword into it while he still had time, and unleashed a respectable attack upon the creature.

In it's lessened state, it had little choice but to withstand the attack until it fell to a steaming pile. He kicked it for good measure, and then charged the sword again - but before he could attack the next winged thing it pounced on him - and quite literally ran over him as it lunged toward another of the Dreadlords.

 

[Ademar Acero]

His skin was still of sturdy wood, his body began to reset itself before he could absorb something else to his liking. Skin as thick as wood was something ideal to have against the undead; hell even if they tried, the zombies would immediately lose their teeth at one bite on Ademar and he wouldn’t suffer it. An excellent trait to carry when stampeding through the hordes of the undead or whenever in the thick of fighting them off.

But it wasn’t something great to face the new threat of monsters they now encountered.

Creatures of just pure bone and, worst of all, wings. They were hard to identify to know what their origin was before becoming this; but if Ademar had to guess, it was probably some beast or product created by the filth of the elves. They did brought this great urban fortress to this degree of desolation, after all.

Surely there would be more than the two that had unveiled themselves, giving more insight to the Dreadlords what capabilities they had. Apparently they could shoot pulses that could explode from their mouths. Wonderful.

The one Ademar focused on wasn’t the one where an apprentice hooked onto or the one Ania brought down, but one that ran over Drederick and seemed to lung over the others, perhaps wanting to break their ranks and find a victim. A perfect target. Several other Dreadlords were ran over, and Ademar charged at it head one with a two handed mace in his hand. For others it would have been too much effort to use this weapon, for Ademar it felt like using a regular longsword. The beast was entertained at the sight of Ademar, wanting to make him his next victim but he was met with a swift and powerful force when the Dreadlord hammered down on its skull. The bone cracked and the creature cried in pain, in shocked before it could move. An opportunity Ademar took as he dropped his weapon and his hand gripped at where an eye socket should have been, and then began to punch at the undead monster right on the spot where he hit with his mace.

He managed a few, great blows on it before the monster shook his head and threw Ademar off of him, the monster wanting to retreat to recover from its injuries before making another attack.

 

[Evangeline]

As the dust from the collision of fire magic and demon's breath settled, Evangeline wiped the coat of her uniform clean and took in the unfurling battle. The Third Levels were doing a fine job thus far with handling the ones that had arrived from the flanks, even rescuing one of their own as he was swept up into the air. Good. It was well to see them working together instead of trying to slit one another's throats.

It was the third beast that came barreling down the middle that caught Evangeline's attention. She was not far behind when Ademar began to unleash his bestial might upon it. Such a brute, as ever, dropping a perfectly good mace to punch the bloody thing with his bare fists. She was hardly surprised when he was thrown to the ground. Now the demon was reeling back...Evangeline could hardly let it rally or call for more of its kin.

The demon wouldn't have time to finish its rout. She brought her sword to bear and practically vanished, darting quickly out of formation to cut the beast off. Incredibly enough, it actually seemed to be able to track her movements, its head snapping in her direction the moment she arrived behind it. Shame its reaction time wasn't as good. The shock of Ademar's blow must've rattled its brain.

Evangeline lashed out with an accelerated overhead slash that took its arm and lander her behind it, then dashed through its legs, sweeping her blade along its shins and severing its feet. It shrieked out, apparently able to feel pain despite its skeletal nature. As it fell she moved to its front once more and brought her sword down on its neck, silencing it once and for all.

 

[Zana]

Zana was running after Wulfric, Florinthe Othal and the beast before she consciously even knew why. Flor was a more than capable Dreadlord, her present mind said to her legs, why are we needed? And then her eyes saw what she had known. The spear seemed stuck, the movement to fast and out of control and it was going down with her friend and the Apprentice along with it. But running wouldn't get her there in time.

Even as she was moving, leaping over fallen bodies or smashing her blade against a foe who dared to get within her path she was removing the shield from her arm. It was a large round thing that seemed too large for the shorter woman, covering her from chin to knee when she stood behind it. It gleamed silver and across its front were engraved wings matching the image she was carving for herself on behalf of Luana. Blood spurted across it as an unthinking Apprentice rudely died nearby. Once it was free from her arm she threw it like one might a discus and then used a bent over Dreadlord who had their sword buried in another of the creatures as a launch pad to propel herself onto the metal shield.

She hit it with a thunk in a crouch as it shot along the battlefield, skimming over people's head at a speed that had peoples hair whipping over their face. Steadily she stood and as she went past, offered an occasionally helpful addition to the fight with a blow here or there, but her true focus was on Flor.

It didn't take long to reach the wall the three had smashed into. Though it was more a heap now she jumped from the shield and began throwing bricks out of the way not only with her TK but with her bare hands.

"Flor?!" Zana shouted as the bricks rose steadily off the bodies.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe spun in mid-air and altered her course. The wind she's collected warped and changed, working to slow her descent. The Dreadlord cushioned her fall and gently landed onto the rooftop a few meters away from the beast. Her spear slowly disintegrated in her hand, the intense pressure of winds have slowly chipped away at it before it was shorn and ground to mere dust. Carefully, her eyes trained on the strange winged creature, she withdrew a second spear from her holster and moved into a ready combat stance.

Only moments later, Zana came charging through, calling out towards the pile of rubble where the beast - and the apprentice she assumed - had fallen. She smiled, savouring the few moments and watched Zana visually scour the area trying to find signs of Florinthe. Eventually, after a brief period, she called out towards Zana from behind. "Looking for me?" She smiled wickedly. Her attack had left her unharmed and unruffled, she looked as immaculate as ever, aside from the flecks of mud that she had gained from their trek through the earlier mire.

"Be careful, I don't know about the others, but this thing is warded to hell. I had to increase the force just to blow a chunk out of it, but it's still alive." As if in response to her words, the creature reared its head - having regained its composure from the dazing it only recently took. It stood, cautiously and roared towards Florinthe and Zana. Despite missing a chunk of its torso - and it's left-wing - the creature seemed unphased and began to gather the sickly pale glow from the depths of its throat.

A guttural rumble was heard. The pale glow soon grew into intense sickly light.

"I don't know what this is, but I don't think it's good."

 

[Selene Avar]

The demon that had thrown it's blast towards her swooped low, it's mouth agape in a shriek of pain and rage.

Selene's features shifted, fire growing within her palms as the creature reached out towards her with it's claws. As it swiped forward the Dreadlord lashed out, fire and flame brushing upwards and slicing through bone.

A thin wave of black flame shot out in a crescent, cutting through the demons wings and then suddenly grasping at it.

With a yank of her hand the Fire seemed to envelope the demon and tear at it, reaching up like a hand and pulling the creature into the ground. Dust and debris went flying as the Demon crashed into the wall, it's body enveloped in a blanket of black fire.

"The Church!" Selene called out as she turned towards the others. "Gather there! Don't let them split us!"

Her voice boomed out in the square, her finger pointing towards a spire just over the reach.

Yet as she spoke the ground seemed to quake, shifting slightly beneath the feet of the Dreadlords. A crack began to open, splitting the earth behind them. Selene turned, her mouth agape as the ground itself began to spew odd imp like creatures, each one wearing armor of black but half the size of a human.

What is this place? Selene wondered as she motioned once again for the Dreadlords to pull back to the church.

 

[Drederick]

The beast barrelled over him as though he was not there, taking him off his feet and leaving him in an unceremonious heap. Angry eyes shot up to see it flailing on, vengeance gripping his being and rage boiling in his heart. He shot to his feet, and summoned his strength. As he watched the beast engaged by his fellow Dreadlords, he resigned it to memory as a now defeated annoyance.

He pressed on with the group as they made their way, fighting all the while.

"The Church!" Selene called out as she turned towards the others. "Gather there! Don't let them split us!"

A mental nod as he trudged on forward after her. Then, beneath his feet a large crack started to form, webbing out beneath his feet. He dove to the side, out from atop the crumbling earth and rolled up to his feet. He moved closer to the church, turning back as he drew near.

The small creatures were ghastly, and ugly to him. He despised the sight of them. The coolness of the dark magic grew thick around him, bellowing up and out from the pit. He found it intoxicating, invigorating. The cool crept into him, and as a lust for death grew in him...

... it took hold.

Several of the goblin fiends drew close to him and raised to weapons to strike. In all one moment, he reached out his hand, his fingers curled as though grasping something that was not there. His skin, turned ghostly white and his eyes as black as night. His demeanour changed sharply, and straight.

He wrenched his hand around and turned it up. Five of the goblins found themself ensared by some black aura, and lifted into the air. They hung there, kicking and screaming before promptly all being torn to pieces with the blink of his eyes. Then he waved his hand in a nonchalant manner, and arm and limb and head were sent hurtling through the air to slam into the foes chasing after them.

His shoulders hung low after, and fatigue found him. He expended much more than he would have wished, and in fact did not intend to reveal himself so. But, he has some strength left. In any case, it was done.

He took up his sword to defend the way in while the others filed through the doors.

 

[Wulfric]

Wulfric used his magic to bring the steel in his hook closer and closer to the beast as he traveled through the air. Soon enough he was dangling perhaps half a foot from the beast's rib cage, and an idea struck him. The creature had a giant gem where it's heart should have been, that emanated a powerful glow. If he could only strike it . . .

Shaping the metal of his left gauntlet into a second hook Wulfric impaled one of the beasts left ribs, then used that as an anchor to pull out and impale farther up the right rib. The creature seemed to scream, but no different than it was already screaming. Wulfric wondered if it felt pain, but laddered his way up to the beast's 'heart'. Extracting his right hook Wulfric reshaped into a push dagger, and winded his elbow back for a punch . . .

Then Florinthe Othal came crashing into the back of the beast in a torrent of wind that drastically altered the beast's tracks. Wulfric's punch flew hard left of where it should have and sheared off about six inches of rib that guarded the gem.

"Damn babysitters." Wulfric cursed, as the apprentice, beast, and dreadlord crashed into a nearby roof.

The scene post-wreckage was not pretty. Wulfric was fairly certain he had extensive bruises in his back, right shoulder, and right thigh. An average soldier might have taken a second to rise, but Wulfric had been through the Academy. They'd simulated situations like this with dreadlords that specialized in probing a man's mind. Make him think he had broken a bone, lost an arm, or been betrayed without any of the real stuff. Wulfric had failed those tests many times, but like any graduated apprentice, he'd learned to best them.

It wasn't long before Zana, checking on Wulfric's 'savior'. Neither of the two paid him mind, so Wulfric got to work. The metal which had been a katar moments ago reshaped itself into a spear. The apprentice made a quick dash to the beast's left side, going where the creature had less wing to swing at him, and plunged his spear into the glowing gem. The gem cracked, it's glow began to dull, and the necrodragon let out a horrible screech of pain unlike anything Wulfric had heard it utter.

The beast retaliated with a powerful swing of it's neck. Wulfric ducked, avoiding the blow, but the beast pulled it's head around and smashed it into Wulfric. He pulled up his shield to stop the blow, but the roof could only suffer so much abuse. The wood beneath him gave way, and Wulfric fell a story into the house.

"The Church!" Selene called out as she turned towards the others. "Gather there! Don't let them split us!"

The sound barely registered in Wulfric's ringing head. Looking around him he realized he was in trouble. He had already been split up. Deciding to leave the dragon for now. Wulfric fought to get himself up once again and made his way to the door. He had orders.

 

[Ania]

Ania stabbed at the winged demonic creature she had crashed into the ground but her blows seemed to have a limited effect. Luckily another dreadlord was present to crush its bones with a compression magic. It shamed her to rely on another to complete her task but it seemed demons were much harder to inflict injury upon than the flesh of man.

Then, the earth shook, the rubble under her feet began to quake and shift. A massive crack erupted from the ground several yards away as hideous impish creatures poured out from the depths. They charged towards the column of dreadlords as winged beasts continued squawking and attempting to grasp even more of their numbers. This seemed as if it was an unwinnable situation and therefore it was not very surprising when the call came from Selene.

A church? It seemed to be one of the few buildings which wasn't in complete disrepair. Large wooden doors which they could likely barricade, no huge gaps in the walls that she could tell. Would hellish monsters be dissuaded from entering simply because it was a religious building or were those just wive's tales? Ania didn't know, she'd never encountered such horrific things before today.

She didn't hesitate, with her blade still drawn the pale woman ran in the direction of the church. There was no attention paid to any of the other Anirians fleeing her singular focus was to fulfill her new orders and make for the shelter. Once inside they could regroup, formulate a plan.

That's what they truly needed. A plan. This battle seemed impossible.

Ania cascaded into the church to find several dreadlords already inside. A few nursing wounds, a few looked scared, something Ania thought she'd never see. As more and more of their number flooded into the small sanctuary her azure eyes glanced back at all of the chaos they had just left. The impish ghouls, the winged horrors. What was this place?

 

[Zana]

Zana was a well respected Dreadlord. She had graduated at the age of 18 and had worked her way steadily up the ladder in terms of jobs whilst trying to keep her increasingly growing gift a secret. The people recognised her when she walked the street and her angelic armour always brought a cheer from their lips for her and House Luana. What she did next however, was nothing like that image. She picked up a brick and she hurled it directly at Florinthe's head. Followed by another.

"I can't believe you did that to me!" Referring of course to the panic she had caused, the heart in mouth fear of losing another person. Putting her hands on her thighs she bent over a little and took a deep breath as if trying to restrain herself from killing the young woman herself. She wouldn't even use magic, or a blade, she decided. No she would strangle the air out of her damn lungs.

Zana glanced up at Flor's words, followed her gaze to the dragon to see what it was she meant. The shield she had left forgotten flew to her hand when she outstretched it towards the object. The Dreadlord brace for impact but instead the crazy apprentice threw himself at it. For a brief moment she wondered if she had ever been that stupid when she was learning the ropes. The roof caved in under him leaving Zana and Flor with the beast.

"Flor, get the kid and head for the church," the light from her shield was catching the dragon's attention. Zana's eyes snapped briefly to her friend. "That's an order - go," her voice was firm and at the same moment the dragon lunged. The bricks beneath her feet began to move and much like she had the shield she was able to use them as her own makeshift staircase into the sky. The dragon shook itself, having landed in the dust Zana left behind and turned to issue a roar at her. But the gem was gone, it had nothing but its brute strength. Her eyes flicked briefly to the church where on top stood the bell - miraculously. The dragon took to the skies to follow her.

Zana made her own highway in the air from rubble; bricks, shattered weapons and helmets until she was closer to the bell. It was a large object so she had to be close unless she wanted to expend all of her magic on this moment. But it couldn't be too much sooner or else she was dragon chow. Her foot hit one last brick and instead of jumping to another she turned, bringing her hands round from her shoulder to her hip as she did so. There was a deep groaning noise of bending wood as the bell ripped itself from the tower. Thankfully the debris wasn't too bad and it didn't impact the church itself where the last few dregs were filing in. The bell gave a loud gong as it whirled through the air and she brought it down hard against the creatures skull. The bone cracked, fissures racing outwards from the epicentre of the blow and then the head crumbled to pieces. The now lifeless body tipped downwards in slow motion and then smashed into the ground below taking out a large area of ruin with it.

The woman wiped the blood that ran from her nose absentmindedly as the brick she balanced on was joined by another then another. Casually she walked down the staircase from the sky and to the door of the church, shutting it behind her.

She had been the last.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe couldn't stop laughing, the look on Zana's face was something to savour. She knew she'd be paying it once they made it out of this mission, but right now as she watched Zana get increasingly red, angry and stompy - she couldn't help herself. The bricks flew around Florinthe, Zana was angry, Zana smashed and broke things when she was angry, but as long as it was airborne Florinthe was safe.

"Hey in my defence, I wanted to let you grieve... Admit it, we both know you'd have left me a lot longer in that situation." She spoke in jest, wondering if Zana would indeed do what she had. She shrugged, a part of her assumed she would in any case.

It was quite rude of the apprentice, and the dragon by extension, to disrupt their little moment. A crash here, a collapse of a building. Suddenly Selene and Zana were both barking orders. She sighed, there was no point arguing with Zana while she was in a mood like this, she knew it was a losing battle.

Instead, Florinthe simply nodded and ran towards the Church. She'd been separated from the rest of the group, and the initial skirmish, so she'd been unaware of the losses or damage her side had taken. Part of her felt guilty, standing there immaculate and untarnished. Completely uninjured. It took a few moments for Florinthe to reminder herself she'd literally thrown herself at one of the assailants. She shrugged, gave a passing glance towards the apprentice she'd tried to save, then turned towards Selene expectantly.