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TVC - Chapter 39 - The Scribe

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Azahul

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As the battle raged, there was no one to notice the tiny shadow that slipped from the mouth of a nearby tunnel. The shadow moved with incredible speed, flitting from one patch of darkness to the next. Then suddenly it paused, and threw away the cloak that shrouded the right side of its body. An eerie green glow spilled from the now-revealed weapon in its grip, the glow or warpstone. The Fellblade.
For a moment Rask stared in consternation at the sword, a vague memory that prolonged contact with it could be dangerous, but the warpstone clouding his mind pushed the worry to one side. It didn't matter. The sword, its power, the power that was now his, was all that mattered. Even if he'd wanted to however, it would have proved impossible to remove the sword from his grip. The hilt had already begun to fuse with the flesh of his hand, the mutating effects of warpstone taking hold.
Moving quickly, Rask was soon overlooking the battle, his diminutive figure barely visible even with the illuminating light of the warpstone blade. He slowly seated himself, content to watch the battle for now, the Fellblade placed across his lap. Every few moments he ran his left hand along the blade, stroking it quietly, muttering to himself all the while.
"Which side, which side, whide side to help? Yes-yes, that is the question. Which side to help."
 

Disciple of Nagash

The Perverted One
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"Turn towards him." Rayla heard her mistress command. For moment she was sure she has heard wrong, but as she glanced over her shoulder she realised why. Around the lahmian tendrils of azure power snaked, and it was obvious to any with knowledge of the dark arts that there was only moments before a spell was unleashed. She could still hear the Innocence laughing cruelly somewhere behind them, and realised they would have to spin fully round in midair to be facing him in time.

Concentrating with all her might she twisted the massive dragon, it's decaying wings thrusting powerfully. As they span Rayla was forced to dig her nails into the scales beneath her as the force against her body tried to pull her off. How Lesa managed to remain where she was seemed impossible, but as the Innocence slowly came it to view she was still stood their, arms outstretched. It seemed as it the sky itself was bearing down on them as the dark cloud approached, but if she was nervous Lesa gave no sign. With a final word she completed her spell. From her hands streams of purple power flashed out, spreading outwards to encage the oncoming Dreadlord with blinding speed. Realising what was happening the Innocence tried to avoid the spell but Lesa had planned well, for already he was encased and with each second it shrank.

A roar of rage bellowed forth as the Innocence realised that for once he could not escape, and a grim smile played across Lesa's face as she watched. As the corruscating orb finally touched him his body rematerialised before it was encased by the spell. His screams sounded into the night as the magic tortured his body before finally his smoking form dropped to the waiting ground below.

"Mistress!!" Rayla's cry brought back Lesa's attention as she tried to follow the falling Dreadlord. The dragons body was not designed for the aerial manouvers it had just been put through, and now they were paying the price. Whilst they had managed to twist in the air their momentum had still kept they many tonned monstrosity toward the ground, and it was now far to late to do anything about.

With growing trepidation Lesa watched as they fell and realised they were going to crash into their own lines. Directly in their path she could see the battling forms of Helena and Mircea, and knew that if they crashed at this speed they would all perish. Placing her hands on the dragons back she poured her power into the beast, forcing it's wings to beat faster. For moments nothing happened before she realised they has slowed slightly. It was not enough to stop them crashing, but she prayed it was enough to save their unlives.
 

Sweeney Todd

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Todd sensed rather than witnessed the change in the situation, as the Executioner himself entered the fray and the legions under him redoubled his effort. His own forces were holding on by the skin of their teeth. With a gesture his first reserve(that included himself and Geralt) commenced the charge, he and Geralt forming the tip of the spear that hurled back the enemy and cut a swathe into their ranks.

As he finally joined the battle for himself, he spied the massive Zenith Prince and the trio of vampires working to take it down. He rammed a fist clean through the torso of a Nagashi cultist that got in his way, and as he fell Sweeney Todd used his body as a springboard for a great leap that saw him land amidst the Nagashi priests with a bestial howl. His arm flicked out in a barely visible streak and a trio of heads were reaped from those trying to surround the Blood Dragon and the other Strigoi.

It was then that the plummeting form of Lesa's out of control dragon cast a massive shadow upon the battlefield. He watched its terminal descent for a moment, and as if in response he raised an arm skywards and fired off a flare from the launcher hidden up his sleeve.
 
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Peter watched as the Vampire launched some kind of flare from his sleeve. However, whilst he was distracted, a Cultist with a long knife made a lunge at his back. Peter's blade flicked out like a snake's tounge, and severed the Nagashi's hand at the wrist. With the return stroke, Peter took off the mortals head.

The Blood Dragon nodded to the new comer.

"You are Sweeney Todd aren't you?" he asked, "I have heard of your exploits, and the strange machine you travel in. I did not know you part of this Council, but I thank you for your help."
 

Gree

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Mircea observed the situation, moving outwards towards the ancient warriors, his mind was made up at this point, if he took them out and reinforced the line then he would be protected.

He gave a long, bestial howl, calling his bats to them. They came, a massive flocking swarm, these where his personal swarm, condition only to him and fed a variant of his own blood to bind them completely to him.

He waved them towards Maatmeses , commanding them to swarm her as he mentioned the last of his Grave Guard behind him, to charge into the Executioner’s position and take him down.

Just as both forces launched forwards Mircea spotted a massive form flying right behind him, he barely had to time to spot a massive black dragon heads towards his position.

‘’Oh sh-‘’ he was cut off as the dragon hit the area, sending up a massive cloud of dust that whipped everywhere. Obscuring everything.
 
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With the two larger armies smashing against each other in a altogether too fast and destructive manner, the Orc Warboss Arg Bloodymaw has led his own army right up to the rear of the Dreadlords forces. Only now has he began to face opposition, opposition in the process of being smashed to pieces.

A few lines of skeletons and zombies led by a Zenith Prince, though the Orc has no clue what it is, are shattered like glass by the charge of Args Black Boar Coach. The Zenith Prince itself is crushed under the churning wheels of the assault vehicle, what remains of it further pulverized by the charging hooves of the Undead Boar Boyz following in the wake of the Warboss.

The hole in the line opened quickly becomes gaping as Zomboyz lumber into the gap, their Orcish ferocity translating even through death, making them more dangerous foes than your average zombie. Skeletal goblin riding dire wolves speed in and flank a small reserve force, cutting through it and crumbling the skeletons quickly, and bringing down the wight leading that unit.

The entire affair is over in minutes, and the charging boars never even slowed down, just continue on towards the enemy. In their path now are the bone throwers, which is exactly what Arg wants. The crews of the machines begin to turn them about, but to late their leaders have realized what comes at them. Nagashi Priests start casting to try to delay the force, but as they do a huge green ball falls from the sky and lands amidst them. Screams emanate from the living creatures as they are melted down to their bones, which in turn dissolve into nothing, destroyed utterly by the WAAAGH! powered spell cast from the back of an enormous squig, further empowered by the Effigy carried by the huge creature.

The siege cadavers are no match for the power of the Orcs, and Undead Boar Boyz hack through them like nothing, crushing them beneath hooves and rending them to pieces with crude choppas. Again this work takes little time, the Orcs moving like lightning, but now the charge slows as living Night Goblins come up, with Shamcromancers.

The target was the bone throwers, not to destroy them, but to take them. What Orcish force is complete without Spear Chukkas? The answer: None. And its easier to steal your artillery than it is to build it yourself.

“Olright yaz gitz!” The huge warboss bellows as the main body of his force lumbers up. ”Aim doze spear chukkaz dat way!” He points at the two armies clashing near the burning trenches. “And den shoot da gitz wot iz dere! An’ duz it wiff da kwiknez!”
It doesn’t take long for Night Goblins to corrupt the magical energies of the bone throwers and their ammunition. Orcs are very, very good at that sort of thing… And moments later, the ammunition is being delivered, via bombardment, to the front lines.

No one is safe. Not Skeleton nor Dreadlord, not Ratkin nor Vampire. The Orcs are on no ones side but their own, as has always been.
 

MasterSpark

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Ashlotte, having just arrived at her mistress side, had acted quickly and placed herself between the location where Lesa's dragon had crashed and her mistress, shielding her from much of the dust and matter that permeated the air.

As the debris gradually thinned out, Helena could spot some unknown commotion happening at the rear of the enemy force, something that had been heralded by great blasts of green energy. Looking over to Mircea who was still reeling from the barrier of dirt that had assailed him a moment earlier, she said,

-"There seems to be some form of unruliness in the enemy's rear ranks. Is it possible that our allies have made it here already?"
 

Gree

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‘’That may be’’ Mircea replied. ‘’If that he true then we should exploit the advantage as soon as possible before the enemy can react’’ he said, mentally calling out to all nearby undead and his bats to rally.

‘’I’m afraid you won’t get that chance’’ came the voice of the Executioner behind them. Mircea whirled around and was backhanded several feet by a single blow form an enormous arm as the massive Dreadlord locked blades with Ashlotte. He had slipped through their warriors through the cover of the massive dirt storm.
 
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As Peters raven distracted the Zenith Prince, Jason saw his opportunity to attack, its power sapped from the death of the many cultists and priests that Niklaus was still shredding through. Despite the efforts of the few Nagashi that had managed to land a blow on the beast that was Niklaus. Although there was another rotting creature among the ranks leaping forward to defend the priests, its teeth bit firmly into Niklaus's shoulder, as he spun to greet it with another bite to the face; reeling back it released its grip on his shoulder and slashed at niklaus face.

Jasons mind raced he whipped his blade around and it flew into the Zenith Princes upper body as a rage filled shout filled the air. With the last of his inhuman speed he raced the Zenith Prince. Dodging the hungry frozen blade thrice before energy erupted from him, like a torrent of raw power flowing over the Zenith Prince. It fought the attack as the few priests attempted to disperse the spell, all to no avail the energy surged through Jason's blade as it sucked the power form the dusty construct, it shrieked with a hellish wail as another blade pierced the creature it was Peter his blade landing inside the creatures mouth. It dropped its blade and sank to the ground as it dissipated to dust and ash.

Jason clasping his blade in his hands, the energies of the Prince surged through him whipping his blade around to another attacker as he continued to fight against the fearsome creatures surging around them. Peter picked up the frozen blade of the Zenith Prince, still ripe with icy power. A slight grin crossed his face as he took it and began to carve into the spider creature, which was still reeling from the pain of V'azrin's vicious spell. Large cavities of smoking flesh riddled the creature as the priests cackled a chant which brought the creature back to its full strength. It latched onto Jason, its fingers of sharp bone slicing into his cloak. It summoned power into its finger tips as power wrapped around in and a volley of magic shattered into Jason he screamed in pain as the spell cracked into his bones trying to rip him apart.

Peter ran forward the heavy blade nothing to peter, as he slashed at the constructs arm, shattering into black green shards instead of the healthy blood red color of the Nagashi. It wailed as he brought the blade down on the creature for the final blow, shattering it into thousands of shards of foul ice. As Jason fell to the ground badly wounded from the destructive spell cast on him, Peter seeing the creature was dead kneeled beside him.
"Jason! are you..." Jason interupting with a coff of darkened blood spilling form his mouth
“ill live..Just, just give me a miniute” Jason said weakly as his cloak rapped his broken body, blood flowing from the closing gaps in the fabric.

He raised from the ground his spirit's rushed towards him as his cloak devoured the souls, flowing back into the cloak to shield himself. With the rest as his army appeared from hiding to protect their master. Peter followed him for a moment as he moved back towards the fortress wall, watching the battle unfold for a moment as his bones creaked beginning to heal them.
 

MasterSpark

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The Executioner towered above his opponent as the two were engaged in a shoving contest with their weapons locked together. The struggle went back and forth as The Executioner's unholy might fought the weight of his foe as well as her own considerable strength. The dry earth gave both fighters optimal stability and neither of them budged an inch. The Executioner did have an unseen advantage however, and that was his simply superior combat prowess which made itself shown when he heaved Ashlotte upwards with his weapon and threw her aside.

Ashlotte fell to the ground with a crash and soon after did the Dreadlord's axe descend upon her, piercing through her abdomen. The Executioner twisted his weapon in place, widening the wound he had caused in his opponent even further. Ashlotte responded with grasping the shaft of the weapon, holding the axe in place. The Executioner raged as he attempted to pull his weapon free,

-"Foolish woman, I'll give you that you have my respect for matching yourself against my strength but now it is time for you to perish!"

But before he managed to do this, he was again swarmed by Helena's and Mircea's undead minions.
 

Gree

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Mircea, groaning, righted himself back up, grabbing his swordblade as he did so. taking in the situation, he tranformed himself into mist again, travling over back to where the Executioner's postion was.

Reforming in the midst of the swarming minions and impaled the Dreadlord through his stomach, there was no blood, just a thin black trickle of sand, Mircea realized as he brought his blade about as the Executioner's fists tried to backhand him again.

The vampire lord was jarred back a foot by the sheer force of the blow, but he held as his minions redoubled the attack, he was now on a more even ground with the Dreadlord thanks to the loss of his weapon and the swarming of Mircea and Helena's minions.
 

Disciple of Nagash

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The devastating from the dragon's impact was massive. Thousands of troops were crumbled into nothing, unfortunatley most of them on the Council's side. Even as the dust cloud started to settled, another powerful shock wave emanated from the impact site. The force was enough to blast part the dirt and debris, revealing the deep crater that was now there.

Hovering in midair by her power along stood Lesa, Rayla's stricken forum clinging desperately to her. Beneath them the ancient beasts body was slowly dissolving into black particles, and it would be some time before the Lahmian had the time to summon it back again. As they lowered to the edge of the crater it seemed that appearances were deceiving, for Lesa crumpled as soon as she hit the ground, though whether it was from magical exhaustion or injury could not be seen.

************************

A crackle of power could be felt by every vampire in the council as something tugged powerfully on the necromantic energies. Many looked upwards expecting to see the pyramid shard that they had seen at the start of the battle, but they were mistaken.

Stepping forward the wizened arms of the Sentence curved through the air as he cast the final words to the spell. Some of the necromancers who had accompanied the council foolishly tried to counter him, but he dismissed them with a swift flick of his fingers, turbulent energies dissolving their bodies into steaming liquids. With Lesa and V'azrin distracted elsewhere there was no one left strong enough to defy him, and his spell was unleashing in a roar of power.

Across the front lines of the Dreadlord's army the corpses witchlights flickered for a moment, before slowly turning colour from eerie green to a hellish red. Opening their mouths horrible screams spilled out as they rushed their foes with frenzied hatred. No longer were they unshambling, unthinking corpses. Now they attacked with like berserkers, overwhelming their counterparts.

Cackling to himself the Sentence strode forward, before he caught sight of something in front of him. A brief flash of blonde curls was enough to confirm it was Simon who was fighting ahead of him, and rotten smile stretched across the necrarch's parchment like skin. In a flash a black dagger appeared in his hand, but he did not plan to use it, it was merely a base to work his next spell. Waving his fingers he spoke more arcane words, sparks of black magic jumping form his fingertips. From the dagger spectral copies floated upwards, a dozen deadly blades that hung in the air. Drawing back his fist the Sentence spat the last word before hurling the knifes forward with a thrust of his hand.

"A gift my Count! A gift to die for!!" he laughed insanely as his spell sped with unerring accuracy to its target.

**************************************

"........so shalt the unbelievers perish, as is taught by our Dark Lord!" The Verdict's words resounded over those nearby, his conviction hammered into the Nagashi souls by his own belief. The Dreadlord's push into the Council's forces had been a difficult one, having encountered heavy resistance, first by the lesser skeletons, then by tougher wights and other creatures. The Nagashi, whilst normally fearless to the dead were still mortals, and more than a few times he had resorted to using his teachings and mental powers to keep them in check.

Finally they had breached the first line on the towards the left flank though further down he could see many of the Legion's wights fighting a loosing battle against the Blood Knights that had guarded this flank. If he could keep on pushing through he could cut them off from the rest of the Council's army. Surrounded they would eventually perish and without them that flank would fall.

Urging the Nagashi onwards they crested a small hillock and came face to face with the waiting second line. For a second even the Verdict paused as he was greeted by the sight of thousands of ghouls. However it was not their numbers that fazed him, it was their eerie silence, their strange discipline. Such creatures were known for being feral, for being uncontrollable and cowards. A snarl below showed him the cause of their behaviour.

Slowly the beast before him unfolded itself, seemingly going on forever until he stood over two foot taller than the verdict. It was not only in height that it was bigger, but in mass as well. It was twice as wide as him, and it was made up by bulging sinew and muscle that made it clear that it was immensely powerful. There was no doubt that this was the largest Strigoi that the Dreadlord had ever seen.

"Timesss to dieee," Graveclaw hissed.

******************************

One nodded at the other, though the action was not needed. The Disciples of Nagash could all see what was happening, even as they cast the spells to keep the army going. Though not as powerful as the Sentence, they were still the equal of the wizard lords of the humans, and their magic was rightly feared.

The battle, though far for won, was going as they expected........except for one thing. The Orcs. Though their army was sizeable it was far from being a threat to the Dreadlords, and had they not being fighting the Council it would have been crushed instantly. But as it was, they were now an unwelcome interruption that had to be dealt with.

The one that nodded took a token in his hand, before separating himself from the others. The were in a safe place, at the centre of the army. Protected by the Pinnacle Guard they would know long before danger reached them, and even if it did they were far from defenceless. He found a rock to sit down, placing his hands in his lap he closed his eyes.

****************************

The dead had been slow to react to the orc's presence, but eventually they had turned to face this new threat. Even so the skeletons and zombies were ill equipped to deal with the screaming hordes, though they managed to keep their own against the orc zombies.

Suddenly form their midst and armoured giant strode forth, a blade held in either hand. This was not a Zenith Prince or other such simple wight. It move with speed and skill that matched the vampires the Dreadlords now faced, moments killed scores of warriors. The goblins reacted surprising quickly, hitting the ancient warrior with two massive bones bolts. They barely slowed it as it simply ripped them of of its body, dark magic knitting bone and armour back together.

Again it strode forth, controlled from afar by the Disciple, slowly but surely cutting its way to the leader of the horde.

OOC: Drog - check the legion thread for the stats on the Ancient Warrior.
 

MasterSpark

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Helena kneeled beside her damaged servant, a score ghost-guards forming a sanctuary around the two even as the combat raged. Ashlotte's eyes were vacant as she lay on the ground, her hands still grasping the weapon that protruded from her body, but as soon as she felt the touch of her mistress she seemed to snap back into consciousness.

-"Ashlotte...", Helena began, her voice calm and collected as always, but before she could continue Ashlotte responded,

-"Oh, m-mistress.. you shouldn't worry yourself over me, I'll be f-f-fine."

Her voice became shaky as she jerked the axe head free from her body but soon after she was gradually getting up on her feet again. The blade of The Executioner's axe was covered in a slick substance, the magically charged oil which was Ashlotte's lifeblood. She discarded the axe and instead picked up her own polearm which had fallen a short distance from her own spot but as she started to move in the direction of The Executioner with limping steps, her mistress stopped her,

-"Ashlotte, no. I don't want you to go near that monster again. I want you to stay at my side for now.", which Ashlotte heeded without question.

Relieved that her loyal underling was relatively unharmed, Helena looked around the area and noticed a sudden change in the intensity of the enemy assault. The minions of Nagash were redoubling their efforts, pushed forward by some arcane spell, making them fight like hellspawned daemons. They'd soon be overwhelmed if nothing were done to prevent it.

Helena had ordered her champion Andreasse and his riders to stay put out on one of the flanks and remain there until further notice. With a series of mental commands she ordered her reinforcements to immediately move towards her current position but without her direct guidance it would take some time for the cavalry to arrive.
 

Simon von Carstein

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Simon seeing the spectral blades coming towards him quickly deflected the first two with Animessor before grabbing a nearby Ghoul and holding it in front of him as a shield. The ghoul screamed as eight of the blades struck it burying themselves into muscle and bone. Letting his makeshift shield fall to the ground Simon's eyes glowed as dark energy left them in beams and destroyed another two. Seeing their were still two coming towards him he dropped his weapons and snatched them from the air he struggled with them for a moment before finally overcoming the Sentence's spell "I can't die Sentence so here's your present BACK!" he shouted hurling the blades towards Sentence.
 

Trevy the Great

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Vekarin bent over suddenly, his balance overthrown by the weight of a berserk undead clinging to his back. Roaring in defiance, the Vampire lord struck down yet another maddened, skeletal figure with his mighty Kopesh, the massive weapon cleaving through the undead body with ease. Vekarin twisted sharply, his massive gauntleted hand grasping the skull of the offending Wight, crushing it, and flinging the still-wriggling body from him. Another undead threw himself at Vekarin, glowing blades clutched in it's hands as yet another struck at him swiftly, yet recklessly from the side. In the bloodied frenzy of the combat, facing opponents who used their very mass as a weapon against him, Vekarin was forced to use his own armored body to kill his undead opponents. A massive elbow was brought forth to connect with the Undead swinging at him, the skeleton's weapon ringing harmlessly off his runed armor. Swinging his mirrored shield around quickly, Vekarin brought the edge around to crush the fleshless face of his other opponent, the shield breaking bone and bending armor easily. As the Wight's head flew in pieces off of it's shoulders, yet more undead poured in upon Vekarin, and he flung yet more wild blows at the scores of enemies bearing down upon him.

Her swords flashing like the ripples on a summer pond, Victarias severed the arm and head of yet another skeletal figure effortlessly. There were so many glowing enemies flinging them that she had lost track of which was a simple skeletal warrior and which was a more powerful Wight, and which indeed was a mortal servant of Nagash. She simply used all of her skill to destroy enemy after enemy after enemy after enemy...
Another leaped down at her, and her blades danced out, stabbing through the glowing eye sockets of the skeleton's skull. Before the fleshless corpse had hit the ground, Victarias was onto the next enemy that came her way, blocking a clumsy, yet powerful blow from a rusted blade, she swung out with her own, crushing the ribcage and severing the spine of her chosen foe. Another ran in after that, bone fingers clasped around the haft of a giant axe that thudded into the ground as Victarias danced to the side, stabbing one blade into the skeleton's face as the other severed both arms at the wrists. The skeleton fell to the ground as massive weight fell on Victarias from behind, and she gasped in pain as a blade pierced her armor and the flesh of her back again and again, with maddened strength and fury. She rolled, and the frenzied skeleton rolled with her, clinging onto her with all of its crazed strength. She swung her arm back, hammering the armored elbow into her opponent's ribs over and over, but it appeared to have no effect on the creature. Then, with a flash of light and glow of fire, the skeleton was incinerated by a ball of fire. Looking up from the packed ground, Victarias saw the black form of Zosz looking down on her from a shattered rampart above. Her gaze was drawn away as another screaming skeleton jumped at her. She cut it down quickly, before the mass of writhing bone before her exploded in a blast of blue fire.
"Greetings, my lady." Zosz rasped from beside her.
Surprised, Victarias swung her blades around at the robed Necromancer.
"Why must you sneak up on me so, Necromancer!?" She demanded.
"I have bought us but a little time, so we must make this brief, rosequeen." Zosz continued, ignoring her last question, "Your lord... wishes for you to have this."
The Necromancer brought out a black scabbard from his cloak, which he held out to the Vampiress.
"Use it well." He finished cryptically, leaving Victarias looking at the bound sword.
 

Gree

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The Executioner moved in and out of the swarming undead troops, smoke and flashing swords obscuring his movement as the rotted wights and the swirling shapes of various wraiths and ghosts whirled around.

The Executioner was in a bad position, forced back, weaponless, and surrounded by a sea of wights and wraiths, all while hammered away by Mircea and his sword, if not for his unholy skill at close combat he would be dead.

The Dreadlord grunted as a sword carved a line across his chest. ‘’You are not so strong without that axe of yours,’’ Mircea taunted. The Dreadlord merely crossed his arms over his face to block another slash that drew black sand form the wound.

Ducking a upturned fist strike, Mircea lunched forward, aiming to imaple the Dreadlord through the head, but with incredible speed, the Dreadlord blocked it by grabbing his sword by clapping his hands together around the blade.

With incredible force the Execution held still, Mircea’s strike, empowered by all his inhuman strength, frozen by something greater. With blinding speed, the Executioner struck out, kicking Mircea back, sending him flying as the wights move din again.

Ethereal daggers drove wound in his left shoulder and back, and wight blades checked through his lower limbs. Looking about the Executioner spotted the axe.

‘’I think it is time to stop this game’’ the Executioner commented. With one swift movement, he ripped a wight blade out of the hands of a Grave Guard lunching at him. Now armed with a magical weapon, he cut down three wraith as they came, moving forwards to his axe.
 

MasterSpark

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The triumphant roar of The Executioner as he cut his way through his enemies reaches the ears of Ashlotte and Helena. As they turned around it became clear that the dreadlord was attempting to reclaim his axe. With urgency in her voice, Ashlotte pleaded with her mistress,

-"Mistress, I must go and stop him."

Helena surveyed the situation for a moment and responded with a frown and a nod,

-"Yes, it appears that you must. Go."

Ashlotte set off towards the location where The Executioner's fallen weapon lay. Reaching inside her metal dress she pulled out her repeater pistol and fired several bullets at the approaching enemy, steel projectiles impacting on dark-forged armour.

Deciding to intercept The Executioner instead of facing him above his axe, Ashlotte brandished her own immense polearm and charged at the enemy.
 
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The Ancient Warrior kept going even after several bolts from the new spear chukka’s had struck it. From his Black Boar Coach the huge Warboss looked at it, “Dat fing lookz loik its itchin fer a fight! Well I’z jus’ da Orc ta gif it wot it wants!”

He lashes his skeletal boars hard and forces the vehicle into motion, charging directly at the Ancient Warrior, while more spears fly overhead and a fanatic smashes into the giant skeleton. The shamcromancers also get involved in the action, lashing the undead construction with blasts of green energy. But it keeps on just regenerating.

Then the Coach smashes into the creatures legs, topping it and smashing bones… But with a loud CRASH the axle snaps, and the entire thing overturns. The Vampiric Warboss leaps off, roaring and raising his axe, only to be met by a sideways cut of a giant sword and knocked away.

He lands with a dull thump, and rattle of crude metal, then the other sword comes down upon him with another resounding crash! Dust and rocks are thrown in the air, obscuring vision for a moment, up to the huge monsters waist. It raises another one of its weapons, only to be struck again by a spear and knocked momentarily off balance.

This gives Arg enough time to recover, the force of hitting the ground actually did more damage to him than the mundane weapon did, and forward be comes, blasting out of the dust and chopping at the Warriors legs. Skillfully the giant counters, blocking Args Bloody Hacka and slashing at him, but as the blow strikes a green shield surrounds the warboss and the blade is bounced harmlessly away.

Relentlessly the Orc moves forward, his axe hacking in crude but deadly patterns, most blows blocked, but a few get through. Those that do part the monsters armor like a hot knife through butter, and before long its once magnificent suit is reduced to clanking tatters, its defensive armament shattered.

The huge creature reels back before the Orcs fury, despite the skill difference, for it cannot seem to harm the greenskin, but is almost defenseless against its attacks. It becomes extremely defensive, simply blocking all the attacks it can, but all comes to a halt far quicker than one could expect.

The big greenskin grunts, having taken the measure of his foe, and in a blur of motion leaps off the ground and raises his hacka over his head with both hands. Propelled by supernatural strength and agility the monstrous warboss easily clears the giants head and brings his axe down towards it.

Not defeated yet the behemoth attempts to raise both his swords to block the blow, but it is useless, the axe cleaves through both weapons and down through the skull, and as Arg proceeds towards the ground so does his axe cleave, parting the chest and opening it, then down through the pelvis and hip bone.

It’s chest then is blown open by a powerful blast of green energy and the huge creature staggers back. Another ball of green energy crashes into its head, shattering it and topping the undead construction to the ground, where it crumbles to dust, having taken a massive amount of damage in too short a time to recover from.

Still, it’s damage is done, and now the Orc host is pressed far harder than it was, and the warboss wheels about, “Orcs neva lose a battle! Wen we’z win we’z win. Wen we’z die we’z die fightin so it don’t count! Wen we’z run we’z getz ta come back anuvva time an’ fight again! Dis iz wen we’z run! Get da fings loaded up and start da retreat!” he hollars, his booming voice easily heard over the din of battle.
 
Joined
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Peter was knocked to the ground by the impact of the huge dragon. As he got to his feet, he found himself confronted by yet another undead construct.

His latest attacker stood ten foot tall, and was built like an ogre. However, the creature’s hide was sown together from dozens of human skins, the faces of which all wailed and howled, gnashing their sharp teeth. The creature was armed with a crude stone club as tall as Peter himself.

Keen to keep the monster away from the injured Jason, Peter roared and leapt at the ogre. He rolled under swing of its club, and brought Soul Eater up into the creature’s wrist. The wounded healed quickly, and all Peter’s effort achieved was a chorus of laughter from the ogre’s many horrible, distorted faces.
 

Gree

Master Vampire
True Blood
Joined
Dec 11, 2007
Messages
4,953
The Executioner blocked a strike from Ashlotte almost lazily with his blade, forcing ber back with another reverse strike from his captured wight blade, the rusted steel gleaming with green energy, as it drove her back with the Executioner’s unholy magic..

Mircea came back, his sword flashed as the Executioner grabbed the blade in mid-flight with his other arm, black sand fell along the massive gash in the Executioner’s palm as he held the blade there.

Snarling, the vampire lord brought his right arm back, switching his grip on his blade, before driving it into the Executioner’s side, the arm driving almost to the elbow before Mircea yanked it out, there was nothing but a trickle of black sand form the wound.

Distracted by this, the Executioner could not avoid Ashlottle’s blade striking near his neck, his wight blade flared green again as he held the blade back, the tip sinking into the side of his massive neck.

‘’It seems you are in a bad spot,’’ taunted Mircea.

‘’I’m just impressed, that’s all,’’ the Dreadlord replied, before drawing his arm down, driving all his force at Mircea’s right shoulder joint, ripping his right arm from his body. The vampire lord fell back with a snarl of pain, dark red blood spilling from his wound.

Grabbing the severed arm midair, he brought it around and smashed Ashlotte in the fact with Mircea’s severed limb. Whirling around his wight blade descended as Mircea blocked it with his sole remaining arm, clutching his blade.
 

MasterSpark

Nostalgian
Staff member
True Blood
Joined
Nov 26, 2008
Messages
4,691
Mircea's lifeblood splattered across Ashlotte's dress as she were pushed back by The Executioner. She raised the krnielk in an overhead motion to strike the dreadlord while his attention were fixed on Mircea but the weight of her weapon forced her off balance and she stumbled down on one knee. The Executioner's vicious attacks were quickly draining what was left of her natural stamina as much of her inner mechanics were failing, leaving her sustained purely by the arcane energies provided by her mistress. Relentless as she is, Ashlotte again rose to her feet and this time successfully swung her weapon in a wide arc, biting into the dreadlord's side. The heavy bladed head of the krnielk produced a puff of the sand-like matter which seemed to have replaced The Executioner's ichor along with a grunt of pain from the weapon's target.

A short distance away, Helena were busy with holding the enemy forces at bay. Her arms were stretched out in front of her with her hands playing in the air like those of a puppetmaster, controlling every single action of the spectral soldiers she commanded. Under her direct guidance could they match the renewed ferocity that the minions of Nagash fought with. However, the Reapers' earlier sneak attack had left her with a wound that would not heal, a tear that continued to leak out the essence that kept her sustained outside of her home-quarters. If left untended for much longer, she would be forced to retreat from the battlefield in a very hasty manner.

The phantom cavalry were not far from reaching their location now and upon their arrival they would wash the enemy away like a tidal wave of ethereal wrath. Hopefully.
 

Gree

Master Vampire
True Blood
Joined
Dec 11, 2007
Messages
4,953
Mircea fell back, his cheek stinging, not from pain, but by wounded pride. To have a limb severed so easily and then be smacked around by his own severed arm, spoke of an immense blow to his pride.

His guarded with one arm, his muscles straining to hold back the Executioner’s blade with one arm while the Dreadlord hit him with his own limb. Occasionally the Executioner’s whirled around to engage Ashlotte’s attack, fending off both of them with incredible skill.

To say he was outmatched out be an understatement, Mircea had been and fought many opponents over his seven hundred years, Beastlords, Dark elf corsair princes, Orc Warbosses, Chaos warleaders, and Ogre tyrants.

He had slain most of them. He had fought others of his own kind, mostly Lahmians. He had even fought and bested some Blood Dragons over the years. But they where all nothing compared to the ungodly skill the executioner possessed.

His every blow was both brutal and perfect, measured in every way. He had no hope of beating him even with Ashlotte’s help, especially when he had a severed arm. He had lost limbs before and regenerated them over time, but not in the middle of battle.

So he had to make do. He sent magic flowing out.

The Executioner started to look at the limb, as he sent out his own magical forces to nullify it.

‘’A vampire’s soul is anchored to their body? So you channeled magic there, to make it open up and deliberately miscast your spell, a nice try’’ The Executioner commented as Mircea ran at him snarling with rage, his features transforming into the bestial mask of the vampire..

The Executioner thrust his wight blade at him as Mircea ducked under the blow and turned to mist, swirling around to strike and reform behind the Dreadlord as they both brought their blades around.

The glowing wight blade struck Mircea’s sword and pushed the vampire lord to his knees. But in that moment the Executioner had let his guard down, Ashlotte’s krnielk through his chest

The head of the halberd passed through his stomach, simply re veiling a wave of black sand. The Executioner looked down dumbly before tossing away Mircea’s severed arm and then he moved.

The Executioner spun around, Ashlotte still handing on, so that she was hurled into the rising body of Mircea, sending them both flying several feet away. The Executioner then pulled out the krnielk before walking over.

He raised his blade. ‘’This has gone along far enough, both of you are too pathetic for this game to continue,’’ he said.

And then the cavalry hit him, a wave of ethereal ghosts drowning the Dreadlord beneath the tide of undead.
 

Disciple of Nagash

The Perverted One
Staff member
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"Mistress?" Rayla's voice had a pleading tone as she helped the ancient Lahmian to her feet. Sealing a Dreadlord as powerful as the Innocence had cost her dearly, and even as she stood she swayed.

"Mistress, we must take you some place safe," Rayla said, trying in vain to pull Lesa along.
"No!" Lesa snapped, the hard tone in her voice betrayed by her fragile state, "the battle is far from won, I will not skulk and hide like...a..co...." Her voice grew faint as she looked into the dusty haze that surrounded them before whispering, "not again." Throwing her arms up as if to ward off a blow she murmured words that Rayla recognised as a dispel, but Lesa was too weak. The younger vampiress could sense it as well, and she knew that she did not have the power to stop it, all she could down was to hold fearfully onto her sire and watch.

****************************

Its pyramid form spinning to a blur the Black Shard unleashed its spell once more, the dark energy roaring across the battlefield. Various members of the Council tried in vain to stop it, but they failed and the result was catastrophic.
The hundreds that had already been destroyed slowly stood back up again, witchlights flickering in their eyes. As control of them was passed to the Disciples of Nagash they turned under their command, pressing forward against the weakening army of the Council.

***************************

For the first time since his transformation into one of Nagash's Dreadlord the Verdict faltered, a trickle of fear running down his spin as the monstrosity that was Graveclaw charged towards him. It loped along the ground on all fours, moving faster than any horse, jaw dropped low to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth.

With his ears pressed flat against his head, eyes glowing in rage, Graveclaw finally revealed the true terror he was. Other members of the Council may have looked down on him as no more than an animal, but in this moment, on this battlefield, he was truly the most horrific sight on it.

Seeing the him the few Nagashi that stood between the Verdict and the Strigoi attempted to flee, for once having found something more terrifying than the Dreadlords. They were not fast enough and Graveclaw pounced on them with agility that seem at odds with his size. His full weight crushed one man into a messy paste on the hard ground, as his massively clawed hands reached out for the backs of two others that were scrambling to get away. The nails pierced through their armour as if it was paper, through the skin and grasping their spines. Hauling the screaming men into the air he smashed them back down, reducing their legs to legs messy splinters which pierced upwards turned their innards into mush.

One Nagashi who had been more clumsier than his fellows had tripped over, and as a shadow came over him, he turned to see Graveclaw silhouetted against the sky. Even as he started to scream Graveclaw reached down, jaws opening impossibly wide. As they closed of the man's face his shrieks were muffled as he beat uselessly against the beast. The was a crunch as his face was bitten off, the body falling backward to reveal half a skull with a bloody mess within.

Suddenly the area burst into flame as the Verdict regained his sense. The flames burned an angry red, before slowly turning to a bright blue to as Verdict all his power into the attack. The moment of fear had enraged him, made him feel weak and for that reason alone he would destroy the Strigoi.

Panting he finally realised the spell, assured that nothing could have survived the conflagration. Around him the Nagashi recovered their composure, eyes downcast as the felt the Dreadlord's gaze on them. His anger was palpable, and they had no doubt that if they did not do something to make up for their fleeing, their lives would be forfeit after this battle was won.

"Isssss that it?" The snarl caused the Verdict's head to snap upwards, jaw dropping in shock as through the wavering heat a shadow appeared. Stepping through the flames Graveclaw drew upto his full height, his grotesquely muscled for, scorched but still whole. Looking upwards to the dark sky he screeched, a sound that in seconds was taken up by the hungry hordes behind him. For once there was no doubt, no holding back. Having seen their saviour for the beast he truly was the Ghouls raced forwards, ready to feast on the flesh of their enemy.
 

Sweeney Todd

Master Vampire
True Blood
Joined
Mar 9, 2008
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4,036
The approach of Todd's reinforcements was heralded by an itch at the back of his consciousness like the scratching of innumerable insects. He stepped back, allowing his forces to surge forward and around him, and closed his eyes to exact control of his minions.

Todd was no less attuned to the winds of magic than any other vampire, and seeing through the eyes of his fell bats he directed the brunt of his bombardment onto the object at the rear of the Nagashi army that had unleashed the powerful spell of reanimation moments before. A rain of earthenware unleashed from loosed grips blossomed forth into a punishing false dawn that shook the earth and blasted holes amidst the ranks of the Shard's guardians. In the wake of the devastating overture came the Fallschirmverfluchte, dropping next to the Shard and right on top of its protectors. Large cracks ran through the Black Shard's obsidian surface, and Todd's gambit to take it out of the game once and for all begun with the crack of gunfire as the Fallschrimverfluchte blasted their foes with close range pistol fire before close combat erupted.

Returning back to the fray personally, Todd flitted past Peter and next to the monstrosity he was confronting, slicing away several of the sewn faces mocking Peter and nimbly sidestepping the clumsy return blow.



OOC: gondor&Kaladas, your time is here.
 
Joined
May 30, 2009
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877
Jason felt the energies of the battle field the dread and the energy washing over all of them he could barely move his bones still broken beyond use for now. But his mind was still sharp as his blade his mind shifted around the battle field to Lesa and Rayla the fear of the young vampire as she held fast to her drained sire sparked his energies and he began to attempt to dispel the spell and cast on of his own into the mix I t was a powerful spell one that he would expect from such a creature as a dread lord he strained at the dispel and hoped that it would give them enough time for them to escape but Lesa had never been the type to retreat because of injuries he figured there would be little time then.

His Wraiths charged forward into the fray, in front of them ethereal scythes ripped into the horde of zombies and skeletons. He could see through the eyes of all his wraiths, as they carved into the enemy, each destructive blow causing more dark energy to fly into the air flowing back into the pyramid as Jason ripped it to him, trying to invigorate his torn skin and broken bones. Dark blood poured from his cloak as it wrapped tightly around him as he got up slowly regaining some of his balance and form.

The grim determinations on Jason’s face murmured words of many spells and inched forward his mind focused on Lesa and Rayla. He pulled up his arms and Lesa began to lift from Rayla grip as thousands of souls attacked the hordes around them. Jason was around four hundred meters away form the pair and Lesa remained mostly unconscious. His world was in slow motion, as creatures raced towards the battlements, arcane fire burned in his mind he felt a presence he looked towards the approaching army as a maiden in black cloths walked almost gracefully towards him her pure white hair, draped around her shoulder eyes calm and focused locked with Jason’s a small scowl upon her face, and a grim smile appeared upon Jason’s face. Lesa drifted Near where he stood, Rayla close behind to a more sheltered location. He believed it would not take long for the vampress’s to regain her strength, but he hoped it would be soon.
 
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