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TVC - Chapter 42 - Ashes to Ashes

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#26
The sudden appearance of his previous lord was disconcerting, and threw out his battle plan. There was little hope of victory in single combat, and even less chance of escape. The brutal assault of the Baalak Gul sealed his decision. He was in a very precarious position indeed.

Summoning the winds of magic to his side, he resorted to the winds of Life rather than fire. With sweeping hand gestures, the roots beneath the ground burst forth, catching and strangling ghouls. Their writhing forms well and truly netted, he moved closer to Peter.

As his companion released a firewall, Zaak wondered where the hell Jason had gone to. Evidently, they had gone too fast for him. Had he known the enemy was already upon them, he would have kept together - he was insane, not stupid. Not waiting to punish himself for his foolishness, he pulled himself together. With another, now necromantic, spell he found three loose spirits on the wind and bound them to his will. They materialized as wraiths wielding unearthly blades, which swiftly moved towards the hammer-wielding one. Swinging their violet-hued scythes, two of them assaulted him whilst the third grasped at the weapon nonchalantly perched on his shoulder, attempting to remove it or at least hold it tight.
 

Simon von Carstein

The Poetic Fiend
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#27
Aurelius grasped one of the roots and it burst into flames which quickly spread to the others destroying them. Clapping his hands together a great fiery sword emerged from them. Simon turned as dark energy left his eyes and struck the wraiths destroying them. Turning to Gabriel he said "The Patiserrie! I'd like you to blow it up." Gabriel bowed and left the scene as Simon turned to face Zaak and Peter. "Enouh of these childish antics. You can't beat me with magic."
 
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#28
Simon was at the edge of the Conflict, amused as the two vampires battled against the impossible odds arrayed against them.
"Perhaps they can't kill you, but I can."
Simon twisted around, blade drawn instantly flicking towards the sinister voice of Jason behind him yet there was darkness there and nothing more.
He jerked back, towards the battle, as Jason attacked from above and landed his own magical blade into Simon's shoulder.

Simon wailed with pain as he tossed Jason from his back with incredible strength, he grabbed at the blade in his shoulder.
Clutching at it and ripping it from his shoulder as magical energy began to repair the wound, the ring on his finger glowing as the torn muscle grew back into shape. His eyes twisted into a bestial fury as his blade struck out towards Jason with lightning speed. Jason's torn strips of cloak, whipped away each strike, but Simon was getting the upper hand on Jason. He would need to act fast, to immobilize him long enough for Lesa to sever the bond between Milosh and the Von Carstiens.
 

Get of W'soran

CN's Lord of Masks
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#29
Karl glanced at Micrea for a moment before shrugging
"Send Luke, hes talented enough to deal with most threats, if he has any true problems he can retreat and call for reinforcements."

The baron sat with remarkable stillness for a moment, surrounded by his black knights, before raising his blade in the air, the sword began to scream cutting through the ears of everyone for mile around.
With a quick mental command he commanded a number of ghouls to smash into the enemy line, reinforcing the werewolves charge.

Now Karl looked over to Micrea once more, who was mere feet away as he spoke again
"If we keep the pressure on the centre line they will have to shift their troop concentration to the middle to compensate or else the wolf-men and anything with them will break through. A cavalry charge one of the flanks soon after might smash the council's defenses completely, at which point we can basically slash away, our greater numbers will certainly be advantagous in such a plan"
He glanced forward
"Of course Marshal you could see the flaws in such a plan sooner than I" murmered the von Carstein his tone smooth and diplomatic.
"Oh and I almost forgot, I have sent word to Ademus back in Teufhof, he will be coming himself along with any of our family he can find that will follow"
"Even should the Council somehow stand long enough we will have reinforcments and Ademus's magical talent will be of use"
Should have brought that bloody seer he thought with annoyance
 
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#30
Müller roared in berserk fury as he smashed aside the dessicated corpses arrayed against him. The werewolves smashed aside the lesser undead, shattering bodies. They had no strategic plan other than destruction.
"Is this all you can manage?!"
He screamed as he threw a disintegrating body into the air.
"Is this all the might you can muster!?"
He was drunk on the carnage as where all the other wolves, their heads moving up and down to rhythm of carnage as they brutally smashed bones and devoured rotting flesh.
"Cowards! Get out here and face me! FACE ME!!"
He roared the last words in a howl that reverberated through the night, amplified and inhuman.
 

Disciple of Nagash

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#31
As the Carstein forces crashed against the undead line of the Council the Duke watched the line carefully. For the moment it was holding, but it would not do indefinitely. It was not the lesser creatures that were the problem, but the wolfish creatures that were tearing through the ranks with abandon. Raising the bone horn at his side he gave two short blasts that echoed throughout the valley.

From under the ranks of the warring skeletons and zombies armoured vampires sprang from their hiding places. The Blood Dragons had chafed at the cowardly tactics, but the Duke new better than anyone that there was no honour in suicide. They had to fight with all the tools at their disposal, and had hidden under rags before the battle had commenced, their vampiric bodies enduring as the dead tramped over them.

Now free the sons of Abhorash, trained by the Red Duke himself drew their blades and attacked the surprised werewolves with skill that they could not hope to match.

"Keep the line supported," the Duke instructed to Zosz as he drew his own blade, before pointing it at the monstrosity that was Muller, "that animal needs dealing with before he creates a breach." Kicking his heels into his steed he galloped off, lowering his visor into place as he prepared to kill the beast.

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

"She approaches," Milosh said, his whispered tone almost too low for V'azrin's hearing. The Necrarch looked where he was pointing, but nothing could be seen on the distant mountainside, "she comes to destroy you, to tear you apart with her bare hands if needs be. I can feel her hate from here."
 

MasterSpark

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#32
After reorienting herself with the sudden change of surroundings, Ashlotte hefted the Krnielk in her hands. The baroque weapon's blade had a dim glow about it, invigorated by the latent arcane essence of Helena's spirit-energy. Helena's voice then sounded from inside Ashlotte,

-"While there's still a distance for us to travel, inserting us behind the enemy front lines helps us greatly. However, this way of travelling will probably not go undetected. We should move with haste."
 

Get of W'soran

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#33
V'azrin's smile twisted into a sneer
"Let the whore try" he spat
Whispered a few words of power the Necrarch checked the wards of detection that surrounded the hill's bottom, they where still strongly in place and wouldn't allow anything pass over their border's without his detection.
Switching to another form of arcane-speech the vampire sent a command for a small number of ghouls to scout in that direction although he hoped for nothing of value to come from it.
Come little lahmian come...let me show you just how inferior your magic working is V'azrin thought to himself, his eyes still staring towards where Milosh had gestured
_____________________________________________________________________

"Ah....perhaps some sort of counter should be ordered" Karl said casually to Milosh
 

Gree

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#34
‘’That is the problem’’ Mircea observed the frontal assault being disrupted by the hidden Blood Dragons. ‘’That is the flaw in our plan’’ he clarified.

‘’As for the disturbance in the rear, it is minor, and insignificant in the face of the numbers we posses, we will deal with it when we can, for now I need Luke here to command the troops’’ Mircea said.

‘’As for this’’ he indicated the Blood Dragons. ‘’We will have to send in more troops to clear out the vampires their, then we will shift out attention to an assault on the right flank, the center had just been reinforced and the enemy is creating too much of a disturbance to properly break through’’ he said.
 
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#35
Peter recovered quickly after the charge of the Patisserie. He ran towards Jason, but was bogged down by the tide of Ghouls. It looked like Nightwere would have to fight the Count on his own.

As the flames of his Firewall burnt themselves out, Peter saw his target mustering the centre of the Carstein lines.

"Zaak, you take Jerek. I have businees to attand to," said Peter to the Vampire in the liquid armour.

Amplified by anger and magic, Peter yelled, "Meyerling Faulsing, or whatever you call your self these days! Come and face me. You have turned from your cause, and betrayed your friends. Die by my hand, old friend."

Peter blasted a path through the ghouls and strode towards Mircea's postion, keen to face his former commander and hopefully distrupt the Carstein chain of command long enough for Lesa to achieve her goal.
 

Gree

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#36
‘’Who is that?’’ Karl asked Mircea.

‘’An old friend that I had not seen in a long time’’ Mircea replied.

‘’Should you not cut him down with your vast numbers?’’

Mircea considered it. ‘’No, he deserves better, I shall simply test him instead’’ he commented, watching Peter hack his way through the various skeletons and ghouls in the surrounding melee. ‘’I shall meet him’’

Rapidly small units of Grave Guard broke off and moved quickly towards Peter while Mircea prepared himself.
 
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#37
"YES! This is more like it!"
Roared Müller as the Blood Dragons appeared.
It was a perfect match, honor against rage, skill against brute strength, the fight between the werewolves and the Blood Dragons was the embodiment of more, it was the fight of civilization against nature.
The Blood Dragons wove patterns of death with their blades, slicing into unprotected flesh, but only to watch as the wounds they inflected healed over almost instantly. The werewolves lashed out with their ungodly strength, their talons and fangs slicing through the air only to grasp at thin air or the masterfully forged armour of the Blood Dragons.

Müller leaped at one of the Vampires that appeared before him. The warrior held two blades, slightly curved and was armored in red plate. The vampire grimaced as the massive monster that was Müller landed in front of him and lashed out with insane speed with one claw.
The Vampire dodged to the side and sliced down with his sword and cut into the meat of Müller's arm. The werewolf lunged with his other arm, twisting his body so fast that the sword was torn from the Blood Dragons grasp.
This time the Vampire couldnt move fast enough. The Werewolf's vice like grip latched onto his remaining sword arm.

Growling, Müller pulled the Vampire close to him and grabbed his other arm.
He slowly pulled the Blood Dragons arms, stretching them to their limit, listening to the Vampire's screams. He felt the Vampire's arms pop from their shoulder blades.
Grinning, Müller ended the Blood Dragons suffering and tore his head off with his jaws.

Müller grimaced as he removed the sword still stuck in his arm and threw it into the dirt.
His ears swiveled at a strange sound, the galloping of hooves.
A knight, another vampire was galloping towards him.

Müller smiled.
He was deeply enjoying himself. So where the other werewolves. His comrades. This was their finest hour.
Nostalgia...he was suddenly overcome by it.
He remembered fighting, centuries ago, with his Sire. The First of the Werewolves.

They would remember this night forever, this glorious night. Müller was certain of it as he ran headlong at the Blood Dragon knight charging to meet him.
 
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#38
Zaak noted how quickly the roots dissolved under the fire. Well, he hadn't really tried to stop it. The fire that raged through the system burned the flailing ghouls in their place. The rich scent of burning flesh and the wails of pain overloaded the senses of all nearby. Some of the Baalak Gul broke free, rambling through the masses and spreading the flames. Foolish.

Peter gave an instruction to attack Jerek before speeding off. Fantastic. Zaak didn't even know which one Jerek was. Taking a stab in the dark (figuratively, of course) he decided to attack the one with the massive hammer. After Simon's magical eye-beams roasted the wraiths, Zaak was once again left with few minions. Easily remedied.

With a rough call and a sweeping hand gesture, Zaak re-animated the burning corpses of the ghouls. Now burning with violet flames, they leaped in their tens upon the great lout, latching onto him and digging in their toxic claws. The sheer mass of them managed to overbalance him, knocking him onto his back. Knowing they could deal with him for now, Zaak lunged towards Simon.

Jason seemed to be keeping him busy for now, but he seemed to be losing. Zaak uttered a quick spell and the air surrounding the heir of Sylvania adopted an adhesive, thick property. Feeling his movements slowed, Simon went to dispel it, but Zaak had already made his move. Extending his left arm, his gauntlet warped into a great spike which stabbed forward and drove itself through Simon's shoulder. Agonizing pain filled his body as the spike suddenly grew red-hot in response to Zaak's command. Laughing insanely, he slashed as Simon's neck with the Osgladius.
 
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#39
The hunter of the dead relished the battle, driving his mount through the flanks of the tighty packed dead. Crunches, crackling and unearthly screams wracked the battle field as lingering soul after lingering soul was sent for due punishment, their coprses bursting into flame, never to rise again. Emerging from the other side of the conflict, Huakroataxa took pause to reassess the battle.

Fascinating. The vampires appeared not to reguard him at all. Well then, time to cause pain.

Huakroataxa had formed a plan. It was a simple plan, but years of experience had taught him that simple plans were often the most flexible and effective in the long run. In order to cause the greatest damage to these vampires, he would keep an eye on the battle, pick the side he beleived to be fairing the best, and then eliminating several of their leaders. He would then continue the process, wittling down both sides as they themselves wittle down each other.

Hunt. Kill. Soteks prime commandment.

The Scar veteran unleashed a battle prayer to his war God that would have sounded little more than a reverbrating roar to a non lizardman, lifting his blade into the air with a bright flash of flame, before riding into the Carstein formations. As he drew close, eyesockets empty but of unnatural flame turned towards him, and rotting faces began to reform from expressions of blank hunger into ones of near panic. A unit of skeletons buckled at his approach, allowing there attackers to press home there advantage as the Lizardman rode straight through, sending fractured, burning bones flying in all directions. The flame of his blade swooped in and out of the ranks around him as he banished to the left and right, waging mighty war. Smelling out his target, he bellowed once more and drove Xalot faster yet towards a honour guard of wight infantry.

Drawing around their corrupt master, the wights were made of sterner stuff than the lesser undead. Though they shifted with some unease, they adopted a defensive position, shields forwards and wight blades primed to strike. And as what seemed as Lustria's primeval fury itself initiated a feral leap into combat, they did just that.

A few wight blades gouged his legs and Xalots flank, but other than a grunt of discomfort Huakroataxa was none the worse; the soul stealing ability of the wight blades entirely dissaperated by the warriors enchanted necklace, heavy with sacred glyphs. He butchered his way through the wights, until there were but five remaining, who backed away slowly from his presence. Left exposed stood a young vampire, previously elven. His palid skin colouration and ebon hair revealed him to be of the fell ilk of elf that often raided the Homeland Huakroataxa had been so long denied, redoubling his savage fury.

His reptillian warcry could not be understood by the undead Druchii, but his slitted eyes delivered the message fair enough;
This time; you stay dead.

The undead elf spat, and drew two faintly glowing swords before launching himself towards the Saurus. The elf was nimble enough to dodge a heavy blow by the Blessed blade of purging, delivering two swift slashes with his own cursed blades to the sword arm. His pupils contracted as wounds that should have blistered and caused flesh to slough away in huge rotting clumps merely began to pull themselves back to gether, tendrils seeming to knit the slices back together.
His shock was amplified by the affect of the Armour of Xokat, causing him to pause that crucial millisecond longer than he should have. His tardiness was rewarded with three large obsinite blades being thrust into his throat, chest and gut. He was flung to the ground, and swiftly decapitated and incinerated by the Blade of Purging before he could rise again.

They always forget the sheild, Huakroataxa thought as the Druchii screamed and writhed. A small gap in the line manifested as the Druchii's dead began to crumble, allowing the Council troops to swarm through.
 

Simon von Carstein

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#40
Eyes glowing Simon caught the Osgladius with his free hand and kicked out catching Jason in the face hurling him back so that he could deal with Zaak. He brought up his knee catching Zaak in the groin stunning him as Simon ripped out the spike in his arm grimacing as he did. Raising one fist an aura appeared around him with thousands of screaming faces faces within. The recently raised ghouls turned away from Jerek and closed in on Zaak Jerek following in their wake. "What part of you can't beat me with magic did you not understand?" Simon asked.
 
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#41
Peter slashed his way toward Mircea's position. But he was only fighting weak skeletons.

"This is too easy," thought the Blood Dragon as he took the head off yet another bony warrior. He ran onwards, but was caught by the slash of a glowing blade on his left arm. Peter muttered a few words and the Wight exloded in a shower of smoldering bone and rusty armour. The rest of the regiment marched in perfect unison towards the undead knight.

Rolling and ducking, Peter tgried in vain to bypass the Grave Guard. Every time he took a step forward, he was pushed back by the numbers of Mircea's finest.
 
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#42
Jason flew back, Simon's throw sent him flying into the darkness where he hid once again within the shadows of the forest as Simon delt with Zaak.

As the hulking wolf charged forth towards Zaak, and the souls swirled into being around Simon. Jason watched it play out for a moment until he ripped forward from behind Simon, out stretched fingers clawing into his face, leaving purple glowing scars as his ripped flesh fell to the ground. He Screamed, clutching at his face as Jason's energy was forced into a magical upper cut. The like's of which thundered through the trees and sent Simon flying.

The ghouls surged forth, the hulking wolf crushing them under foot in a frenzy to kill and feast on Zaak and Jason. Souls poured from Jason, as spirits lashed out with ethereal Talons, as they began to combat the Ghouls before them.
"Zaak you handle the wolf, I will take care of Simon understood." The energy flowed through Jason, as he let out a shock wave stunning the Wolf for mere moments as Jason felt Simon rise behind him.
 

Gree

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#43
''What is wrong Peter? Can you not reach me? Are these enemies too much for you? show me your strength! This is not the same man I remember!'' Mircea called out past the Grave Guard.
 

Get of W'soran

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#44
Karl sighed as Micrea charged of to fight one of the council.
"Well this -is- boring" the Baron stated as he shifted his shoulders, he was wearing the armour of Teufhof crafted in the image his father Vlad's, but he would have prefered to be in his normal clothes and around his shoulders was clasped the cloak of souls.
His eyes glanced swept across the battlefield;
Simon fought Jason
Micrea was meeting another vampire
Even poor twisted Jerek had found someone to battle with.
How dreadfully unfair it is that I have no one to duel with Karl thought to himself.
As he did this the Baron let himself remember the time he had fenced with his father Vlad and all of his brothers.
A faint smile touched the noble's lips as he remembered these moments, as if reacting to his memories the vampiric blade began to scream.
The noble felt his train of thought shattered when a piercing voice cut through his mind

"Baron von Carstein! I command you to take the battle to the enemy, destroy the council!" V'azrin mentally commanded him, the words where quickly followed by the image of Todd's face.

A wave of disgust washed over Karl at the realisation that he had to do what the withered freak had commanded, he even felt like he wanted to do what he said...and that was just a horrid thought.
Karl straightened up...the image of the aristrocratic vampire, upon his steed and charged at Todd, as he closed the distance he commanded his black knights to fall back behind him.
"Peasant! You think to assault the armies of the von Carstein's?! I shall show you the folly in your actions!" he shouted arrogantly.
Beneath his aristrocratic persona his old tactical mind came into play
Short razor blades, staying on horse back will give me the advantage and from a fencers view he is the perfect opponent...a fast fighter to face a fast fighting style the Baron decided.
 
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#45
Enraged by his former friend's taunts, Peter roared. His fangs extended, and he was overtaken by the rage that his bloodline was famous for. He whirled and twisted, lashing out every time a Wight cam to close. He lept into the air, his unholy strength overcoming the weight of his armour. He flipped in the air, and landed behind the lines of Grave Guard. He turned to face his enemies once more. They too turned in unison.

"Oh I don't think so," he grinned. He once again muttered a spell, and his sword ignited into flames. Like an avenging god he carved through the Wights, until there was a clear path to Mircea.

"Oh no old friend. I am not the man you rememeber. I am so much more."
 

Gree

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#46
‘’Really?’’ Mircea suddenly appeared before him, runesword drawn and clashing against Peter’s blade. ‘’Do you really think that you can kill me Peter? That is an arrogant statement, not to mention a poor greeting for someone you have not seen in so long’’ he stated.

''And I too and not the man you remember''
 

Sweeney Todd

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#47
The werewolf roared as it charged towards Todd, and he roared back in kind. With surprising speed he sidestepped its outstretched paws, ignoring the bloody but shallow scratches he sustained as minor irritations, and returned the favor with a silver razor. The beast howled in pain, and Todd smiled in sadistic pleasure. His follow-up was relentless, and within moments blurs of silver left the beast with no arms, nor head, and a torso sliced to ribbons.

After the werewolf fell to the ground unmoving Sweeney Todd pressed on together with his comrades. With spell, blade and claw they smashed a very small breach into the seemingly endless ranks of the Carsteins' legions. It was Geralt who first spotted a clutch of necromancers who were a bit too close to the front lines for their own longevity. The bolts of negative energy they hurled at Geralt and Todd in desperate defence as the duo assaulted them head on were dissipated by Mrs. Lovette, and they stood no chance in close quarters.

As Geralt and Todd mercilessly hewed down the necromancers the lesser dead of the Carstein army in the immediate vicinity began to falter. This provided Todd a brief respite which he used to gain his bearings and look about. A berserk Peter was running straight at Mircea while Simon and Jerek fought Jason and Zaak. It was then that he heard the shouted challenge(of sorts).

"Peasant! You think to assault the armies of the von Carstein's?! I shall show you the folly in your actions!" Todd rolled his eyes in reply as he saw another von Carstein, the Karl who had suddenly showed up and caused much drama during the previous Council gathering, charge straight at him upon his steed.

"A wise choice, my good sir! I shall show you the finest shave yet!" He replied as he shifted on the spot and dropped into a peculiar crouching stance. To all others it looked as though he was trembling in fear while squatting, but in truth he was readying the longsword strapped to his back. Todd exploded into motion a heartbeat before Karl reached him, leaping forth in a perfectly timed Zanbato(Horse Slicing Stroke) that brought him past the reach of Karl's enchanted blade. His longsword had leapt from its sheath with barely a hiss and returned to it a moment later, blood splattering the blade after Todd had sliced off two of the Nightmare's legs. Karl rolled forward to dismount as his steed pitched over but Todd was upon him immediately.
 
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#48
Peter was at first taken aback by Mircea's quickness. He found himself parrying a lightening fast blow. Mircea had improve since they had first crossed swords in Mordheim all those years ago.

But Peter was a Blood Dragon, his skills honed in the fires war for centuries. Sidesteping a blow from his opponent, Peter twisted inside the von Carstein's guard. He swung his left fist into Mircea's face and felt his nose break. The blow would have floored any mortal creature, but the Marshall of Sylvannia only smiled as his nose healed into its previous form.

Peter was once again forced to defend against Mircea's assault. Each vampire scored small hits against there opponant, but these little wounds soon healed due to there magical healing swords. The two immortals fought with unholy anger, Mircea's mind altered by Nagash's lies in his head, and Peter enraged by what the Dark Lord had done to his friend.
 

Gree

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#49
Mircea launched an overhand strike at Peter, who blocked skillfully, the Von Carstein’s mind was already thinking of a way to get around their current stalemate. They where both not getting anywhere.

He sidestepped a thrust from the blade that came inches near his cheek, he leapt back form another strike, raising his forearm gauntlet to block another sword strike. Sparks flew as the blade bit through the edges of the gauntlet, the tip of the blade drawing blood as it did so.

‘’I see you are not exactly getting anywhere, Peter, don’t you see this is quite useless? Since you are equally matched with me and I have help just an arm’s length away, you really have no hope of victory.’’
 
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#50
"The hoof prints are fresh," said Romy, looking into the mud of the foothills, to his companion, Njal, "Walach and his knights moved through here recently. We'll be upon them soon."
Romy spurred his horse onwards, following the signs of the Blood Knights' passing.
Several days ago, he had heard about this Vampire Council had gathered and army and were marching south of the Empire, on the Von Carsteins. Even better, another agent had told him that he had heard rumours Walach marching to the site where the battle would take place to fight alongside the Council. Romy was to follow him and observe the battle, to confirm the rumours and pick off straggling wounded if any were around. Once he was done there, he was to continue following and observing the Council. He would then report back to the Fellowship on their strength, and on the weaknesses in their armies. The Knights of the Raven combined with the warriors from the Tsarevic Pavel, Andanti, and the Cult of Morr would then launch their crusade.
They may have been able to defeat an army of the Witch Hunters, but the army of the allied Vampire Hunters would know exactly how to deal with every single one of the undead abominations.
 
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