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Post by Iole on Nov 11, 2011 3:10:09 GMT -5
::Two days after the events in At the Crossroads:: ::The Blackjack still hadn't returned from its impromtu rendevouz in Luca. But things in Figaro had remained quiet at least. Kerion and Gwen had kept to themselves in their chambers or strolling about the grounds pursuing their interests. She'd even coyly allowed him to give her a crash course in marksmanship, keeping to herself that she was already an accomplished magical marksman. Still he couldn't help but notice that after her very first lesson, she hadn't missed once. Jas had also been fairly reclusive and Kyran had either been at his side or dutifully watching over their prisoner, who himself had been at Iole's side almost constantly or gathering more research material from the library. Though they'd made little headway in their search, Iole seemed to be growing more and more excited in the hunt with every scrap they managed to find. Iole had either been with Stefan, or she had been with Oliver, or both (which usually ended up with her beloved fiance steaming and Stefan smirking). The time she spent alone with Oliver had usually been of talking about the son that she still had hidden somewhere, their plans for the future, or sometimes they'd read that book the King had given her to him before they both fell asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. Right now was one of the moments where she and Stefan were alone while Oliver had gone to get some breakfast. The draconian prince had just returned from the upper library with a new stack of books. She didn't even look up when he came in and set them down next to the formidable stack they'd already researched:: Stefan, would you say your scales are red when you transform? Or does you have more of a copper tone? ::Taken aback, the dark haired prince held up one arm in front of his face and let it shift into scales, the color of dried blood:: Stefan: Red. Why? Just a thought. One of these old stories talks about a red dragon greeting the hero at the gates of hell. It's consistent with our earlier theory that the color of Dragon's scales might have something to do with their talents. Stefan: Yeah I remember an old story where a red dragon was said to guard the gates of Hell. Others say he's a demon from hell. Did you manage to find anything else? Says he could withstand the heat because of the dragon blood in him. The original text made a distinction between Dragons and Draconians. Stefan: The part mortal offspring of full Dragons, which we've surmised is what I am, my Father being a full Dragon. I can't transform completely like you and he can. (OOC: Yeah I decided the old thread had been dragging on, and it's point had been made. So I created a new one. Everybody feel free to jump in any time).
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Post by Jas on Nov 11, 2011 23:42:12 GMT -5
(OOC: alrighty then)
::Kyran looks to Jas as he places his blade back in it sheath::
Kyran: Still no word from Bahamut huh?
"Indeed. I knew it was going to take him awhile to not only find a dragon that is compatible to me, but also for knowledge of the ritual Stefan mentioned."
Kyran: But you should know that this might be a dangerous path. Who's to say the dragon power you'll gain will remained locked in your blade. If it can't be contained, you will remain a dragonian forever.
"It's a risk we have to take Kyran."
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Post by Kerion on Nov 14, 2011 18:57:37 GMT -5
::Kerion watched as Gwen took aim at the target he set up::
"Using a gun is different than using magic. You have to manually aim down your shot to make sure it hits. Also you need to control your breathing because a shaky hand can throw off your shot, making it the difference between a kill and a wound. Also external conditions, such as wind, can also throw your shot off if shoot from a longer distance. There are 8 points on the human body which struck with enough force can cause death. The liver, the lungs, the jugular vein, the carotid artery, the kidneys, the spine, the brain, and the heart. Snipers focus on only two areas, the brain and the heart. Four of the others are considered kill shots, but they leave the target alive but dying unless they get help right away, the lungs, liver, kidneys & spine.
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Post by Guinevere on Nov 14, 2011 19:27:44 GMT -5
::In spite of her tenacity, Gwen was very much the lady, and did have a delicate constitution, so keeping her dainty hands steady with a gun in them (something she was not accustomed to) was difficult at first. Not that she minded him placing his hand around her wrist to correct her, especially when she was close enough to rest her head on his shoulder::
Such precision. Which do you prefer to attack?
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Post by Kerion on Nov 15, 2011 0:38:41 GMT -5
"Personally, I avoid the kill shots and go for the legs and arms, more specifically the shoulders and knees. Bounties are worth more when brought in alive than as a corpse."
::He adjusts her aim::
"There's more than one way to keep your arm from shaking. One: Place the bottom of your gun on a flat surface, it'll keep the shaking to a minimum. Two: A special stock made for the gun being used, its placed on your shoulder, giving it the stability of a rifle. Or three: A special muscle relaxant called Pentazemin, but there's a downside to that. Take it one too many times, you become addicted to it. But the only way to overcome it is to continue practicing it."
::Watches as she pulls the trigger. The gun fires and the bullet hits the side of the dummy as fake blood seeps from it::
"Nice shot, you hit the left lung."
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Post by Guinevere on Nov 15, 2011 1:00:42 GMT -5
That's a shame. Were I to konsider your line of work, I think I would more prefer aiming for the heart. There's something very feminine about doing it that way, wouldn't you agree?
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Post by Kerion on Nov 15, 2011 1:17:25 GMT -5
"There's nothing wrong with that. Many have a preferred target. Some it comes with time, others are drilled to taking that part." ::She sees him pull out his Punisher, noting the runes on it:: "Well, time to dispose of this dummy." ::He loads a red round before stepping away from Gwen and aiming::
"Fire shot!" ::Flames shoot out from the barrel, engulfing the now useless practice dummy as it starts to burn away. The flame stops, but the remains continue to burn. Acting quickly, he replaced the red with a light blue round::
"Ice shot!" ::A mist of snow shoots out, covering the smoldering flames, extinguishing it. Now leaving nothing but ashes he stops as they hear the ring tone for his PHS. He pulls it out and looks at the ID:: "About time she called. ::Answers it:: What's taking so long?"
Anya(V.O): Sorry, we ran into some trouble. Seems some of our old 'friends' decided to pay us a visit. Thankfully they won't be bothering us for a long time.
"EMP?"
Anya(V.O): Yep. It'll take them months to get their ships back up and running. We're on our way now, be there within the hour.
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Post by Guinevere on Nov 15, 2011 1:23:04 GMT -5
::Gwen's face showed clear disappointment::
So soon?
::He couldn't be sure if she was referring to the coming end of their stay in Doma, or if she was actually speaking of the lengthy uninterrupted time alone the two of them had enjoyed lately::
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Post by Kerion on Nov 15, 2011 1:35:37 GMT -5
Anya(V.O): I heard that Gwen. And we won't be leaving right away, we still have some supplies to finish getting. Then there's the course for our next destination. Oh and Kerion, some good news. Jeack's appeals finally ran out, his execution has already been carried out. Just thought that might liven your day abit. Anya out.
::Kerion hangs up the PHS:: "About time too."
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Post by Iole on Nov 21, 2011 1:18:21 GMT -5
::Iole looked up from her book suddenly, sniffing the air::
Do you smell that?
::Stefan looked up as well, trying to catch a whiff of whatever she was sensing, but it seemed to no avail. But before he could ask for an explanation, she was gone. Taking off like a bullet down the corridor, she nearly knocked over several of the castle staff, leisurely going about their duties. Stefan wouldn't sense this because as far as she knew he was unfamiliar with it. That's why she was searching for someone she knew would know this scent no matter how faint or far away it was, for it was a scent they both knew well; the smell of something they'd spent months hunting and killing in order to survive. Bounding down the stairs, out the east gate and down the steps, she found him at last in one of the courtyards outside::
Ollie, do you smell it?
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Post by Guinevere on Nov 21, 2011 1:35:41 GMT -5
::Gwen cocked the handgun again, letting Kerion guide her aim, resuming their session when his PHS rang again. Gwen sighed in annoyance::
That girl kan be so needy.
Anya: Kerion! Answer me dammit! There's trouble headed your way! The countryside south of you guys is ravaged! There are fires spreading all across the board!
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Post by Oliver on Nov 21, 2011 1:35:52 GMT -5
Oliver had been hanging around the east courtyards with Emily, reading as best he could some books on political philosophy and thought. He paced back and forth with the tiny sparrow on his shoulder, seemingly reading along with him. He was entirely caught up in the words when came a banshee, zooming towards him, frantically sniffing the scent on the air. Iole nearly spun him around as she exploded into the courtyard.
“Ho’y!” Oliver exclaimed, catching his book and goggles; Emily spooked and fluttering frantically above Oliver’s shoulder. “W’at is it!? Did he touc’ ye!? So ‘elp me… wait…” He sniffed at the air, finally realizing what she was saying and now noticing the peculiar scent on the wind. “W’ats t’at. Reminds me of somet’ing from Lindblum way back… but w’at?”
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Post by Kerion on Nov 21, 2011 1:39:40 GMT -5
"Ah crap!" ::Hangs up: "We're gonna have to cut this short Gwen, something's coming! Something big."
--
::Kyran looks up as her nose picks up the same smell Iole picked up, causing her to growl dangerously::
Kyran: Jas, you might want to get ready, demons are approaching, alot of them.
::Jas dropped the book he was reading before running out the door, Kyran close behind as they get outside::
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Post by Iole on Nov 21, 2011 1:48:37 GMT -5
(OOC: If he's spent even a day in Freya, especially the area Iole lives in, Oliver's fought his share of demons by now).
::Iole tugged his arm, pulling him to his feet, and nearly causing him to drop his book again::
We have to hurry. I we have to warn the--
*BOOM*
::The blast knocked them both off their feet. The watch-tower in the south section of the courtyard had just been struck by an immense fire attack that completely blew it to smithereens, taking a good section of the wall with it. Iole scrambled to get up::
Dammit, they're already here! They must have used a portal, that's why I didn't sense them earlier!
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Post by Guinevere on Nov 21, 2011 1:53:20 GMT -5
::A second blast exploded within the castle walls. This one came crashing down directly into the courtyard Gwen and Kerion were in. The force of it was immense, but when the flash cleared, Kerion could see Gwen standing firm while the gale of the blast whipped her hair and her dress about her fiercely. She held both hands in front of her and the flames of the blast seemed to curve toward her, then vanishing just in front of her outstretched hands::
Looks like our time here will be kut shorter than we thought. I believe I kan hear skreaming outside.
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Post by Oliver on Nov 21, 2011 2:03:17 GMT -5
Oliver shuffled back to his feet, staggering to catch himself. Emily was spooked even more and fluttered around frantically – Oliver hushed her, letting her hand on his perched finger. “Gir’, get ‘igh, te’l us w’ere t’ey’re coming in from.” He flipped her in the air and she took flight high above the castle. He then ran to Iole’s side as she cursed their arrival.
“B’oody great.” He exclaimed, drawing his two golden combs. “We need ta get into a defensive position an’ regroup, ye know w’ere the others are?” Another explosion rocked the castle above them, blowing out a large chunk of stone and masonry, causing an avalanche to fall upon the courtyard.
Oliver, in one quick swoop, drew one of the combs through Iole’s air and in an instant, sent a spike of it from the comb into a large falling wall of rock, splitting it into many harmless little pieces all around the two.
“Ye ok love?” He asked, whipping the hair spike back into a few harmless strands stuck in the teeth of his father’s comb. “T’ink we’ve overstayed our we’come? Les go get t’e ot’ers an’ see w’at t’e meaning of t’is interruption.”
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Post by Iole on Nov 21, 2011 2:14:28 GMT -5
::There was a shrill screech from above as black sillouhettes filled the skies above the castle. These demons appeared to be half man and half great black bird, carrying something glowing and green in their talons::
Magitek crystals! That's where the blasts came from!
::The alarm was being sounded, and the castle guard was swarming to their positions. Along the walls they were readying ballistas, and cannons. Iole could see armored soldiers spilling from the entrance she had previously burst from. Taking Oliver's hand, she pulled him close to her form and turned her back to him. All the guards saw was a flash, and then a sudden force that made a small crater in the ground where they had been standing. To Oliver, he had just been on the ground, then in the blink of an eye was racing through the air astride the great white dragon. Iole swooped into the air, breathing a jet of flames at the flock that was still swarming the air above the castle. The scene from below was devastating. It was like the whole of the city had just taken fire. Inhuman growls and the screams of the innocent were like claws reaching up to them from hell itself::
Ollie, think we can provide cover from up here until I find the others?
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Post by Oliver on Nov 21, 2011 2:41:16 GMT -5
“We better ‘cause we ain’t gotta a’ot of c’oices ot’erwise.” He carefully pushed up from his straddling Iole’s neck, keeping crouched, hands out for balance as his footclaws clenched tightly into her flesh for grip. He slowly stood upright, knees bent, till he was quite literally suffering the dragons back. “Ye got t’e ground? ‘Cause I call t’e sky!”
With his feet firmly planted, latched on as tight as he can, he slips his goggles over his eye and patch, then with his combs in hand, scans the horizon for the black beasty birds with the crystals in their claws. Strike, a tentacle of hair shoots out from Oliver’s hand and pierces the closest bird-creature, pinning it to the tendril. He throws his arm out and whips the creature at another flying abomination, sending them crashing into one another, the crystals in their grasp slipping away.
“Faugh a’ Beallach!” He shouted, “Get me c’oser, wanna hit em wit’ me claws!”
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Post by Iole on Nov 21, 2011 2:46:17 GMT -5
::Iole was nothing if not swift, both in her fiery attacks on the demons who slithered on the ground, and in her aerial acrobatics to give Oliver the shots he asked for. Though it was a challenge. The flying demons were taller than a man, but much smaller than the dragon, and could maneuver around her. Some of them had already latched to her hide. With her claws she could scrape away at the ones that attached to her stomach, but she was unable to reach the ones on her back in flight::
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 21, 2011 3:18:18 GMT -5
The withering masses of black and twisted creatures of unnamable origin and demented, perverted natures slithered across Figaro like a creeping oil slick, consuming under foot and claw everything in its path, drenching the soil in salt, fire and ichors. Great buildings that stood the test of ages fell, great innovations and engineering feats devoured like wheat to locusts. Neither man, woman or child were spared, cut down with strikes unseen from the shadows and dark places. Ripped from friends and family, many are snatched up and dragged away screaming as these indescribable creatures from the blackness feast upon their still very living flesh. The sky grows red with the fire and blood of the slaughter.
Inside the crumbling castle, ripped by explosions and chaos, slinks a sea of special white creatures scuttling across the blowout floors and walls, with their bulbous red eyes and withering tails moving as one. There’s one larger than the rest, lumbering in the center of the mass of flesh as they snake from hallway to hallway, room to room, breaking off to devour the guard and help. Swords, pikes, halberds, axes and maces all snap and bend against the flesh of the creatures. The errant spell strikes one down here and there before the caster is consumed by the inundation, slipping below the wave in curdling screams.
The river explodes into the throne room to be met by the royal guard and the King with his own sword drawn to make a last stand. The guards are quickly dispatched by the dog sized Synx creatures, overwhelmed by their sheer number. Now with his back against a wall, the largest of the demonic creatures lumbers forward, greater than the size of two large men and sporting an bulbous belly, it comes upon the King and spews out the contents of its insides onto the floor before the King’s feet. Out came a man in slacks and a slimy sweater-vest; the King raised his sword to strike the man and abomination down, but the sickly vomit vapors overpowers the regent, unable to finish his strike before being overwhelmed.
August stands, draws his blade and steps forward as the King recoils from the foulness of it all.
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