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<blockquote data-quote="Isida Kep'Tukari" data-source="post: 3055094" data-attributes="member: 4441"><p><strong>The Thunder, just after dawn</strong></p><p></p><p>The tides of battle are crashing now. A distraction this attack may be, but blood will be spilled in earnest. Sir Aravir's powerful charge leaps towards the commanders, but crashes into further foot troops brought to bear. Those around him, as well as the knight himself, are cut by pikes and punctured by arrows, though many others are spared by Ssrian's distractions. Arrogant and decadent the tieflings may me, but they are not fools. The commanders seem to vanish into the seething crowd. Whether this is the result of swift running, magic, or disguise, it's hard to say, but the ferocity of the Kingsmarch army doesn't diminish. </p><p></p><p>Warriors empowered by the mages' spells help cuts wedges in, or out, to kill Dominion soldiers or free their fellow Kingsmarchers as needed. Foul gasses and fiery explosions rock the battlefield, and lightning and acid sizzle all around as battle magic is joined. Magical webs tack down more mobile units of Dominionites, and fire crisps many more of them. Swarms of bats, rats, and insects harry both sides, and the skies rain blood of both the sulfuerous demonic kind and silvery celestial kind as summoned creatures battle for supremecy of the air. Any free demons pluck people off the group, carry them above a group of their fellows, and drop them to their deaths, while celestial hippogriffs, eagles (both giant and not), and others rake and smite any commanders they can catch.</p><p></p><p>Arrows fall farther away now, picking off lone stragglers, small groups of archers, and anyone wearing the slightest hint of a fancy uniform. Screams and howls echo over the conflict, horn calls, battlefield bellows, oaths, curses, and magical utterances combine into a cacophany to stun the senses. It must be nearly noon before the last of the troops, on both sides, are called into a retreat. Casualties are prevalent on both sides, as if the tieflings were extracting a bloody revenge for having being caught off-guard. But there are several dozen elaborate commander's helms decorating tent-posts as trophies, proving that the tiefling advance must be slowed and slowed again as new officers must be found.</p><p></p><p>Galan suffered few physical wounds from the battle, some faint shock when an electrical blast rocked the illusion-covered mages' position, and his magic is entirely tapped out, but nothing that can't be cured with rest, rest, and perhaps a bit more rest. Jillian is also wounded lightly, from the large area distructive spells dropped on the archers, but others are more direly wounded. She was lucky.</p><p></p><p>Ssrian has only a few shallow cuts, as his borrowed armor, own shield, and impressive command of distraction powers deflected most of what could have killed him. Dozens of others were spared worse injury because of him. Sir Aravir suffered the worse, along with several other knights. They're favored targets, and even though Aravir is not technically part of the Knights Adamant, his fearlessness in battle, relentless charging, and fearsome battle skills were close enough to earn him special attention from the enemy. </p><p></p><p>A swarm of scorpions nearly drove him mad with pain, and made Shade devilishly hard to control. Two demons tried to pluck him out of the saddle, and he collected their arms for their trouble, their nails still lodged somewhere in his sides. After plucking small dead scorpions out of all conceiveable crevice of his armor (and every orifice of his body) and having claws extracted from his ribs, one of Alharra's disciples healed his many gashes (and Shade's as well), in addition to Ssrian's, enough so that all of them could continue on towards their meeting in the foothills of the Highlands.</p><p></p><p>~~~</p><p></p><p><strong>The Rain, just about dawn</strong></p><p></p><p>"Winter" smiles at Darvekis, and seems to be considering his impertinant comment. Then he takes a half-step forward and backhands Darvekis. "Winter" then seems to go into a combination of deadly whispers in Darvekis' ear, and a series of elegant beatings. Ebony's companion, apparently more interested in her pleasures than his, manages to get herself out of certain strategic parts of clothing, and commands Ebony to perform in a rather specfic manner. He complies, keeping an eye on the proceedings, until a terrific noise lashes out from the east.</p><p></p><p>The guards all jerk to look, as Darvekis raises a wand Hiitar had slipped to him a few blows earlier. He aims and fires a greenish, glowing arrow at the guard, who shrieks faintly when it strikes and begins to eat through his flesh.</p><p></p><p>OOC: Y'all have a surprise round. What are your actions o' doom?</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Isida Kep'Tukari, post: 3055094, member: 4441"] [b]The Thunder, just after dawn[/b] The tides of battle are crashing now. A distraction this attack may be, but blood will be spilled in earnest. Sir Aravir's powerful charge leaps towards the commanders, but crashes into further foot troops brought to bear. Those around him, as well as the knight himself, are cut by pikes and punctured by arrows, though many others are spared by Ssrian's distractions. Arrogant and decadent the tieflings may me, but they are not fools. The commanders seem to vanish into the seething crowd. Whether this is the result of swift running, magic, or disguise, it's hard to say, but the ferocity of the Kingsmarch army doesn't diminish. Warriors empowered by the mages' spells help cuts wedges in, or out, to kill Dominion soldiers or free their fellow Kingsmarchers as needed. Foul gasses and fiery explosions rock the battlefield, and lightning and acid sizzle all around as battle magic is joined. Magical webs tack down more mobile units of Dominionites, and fire crisps many more of them. Swarms of bats, rats, and insects harry both sides, and the skies rain blood of both the sulfuerous demonic kind and silvery celestial kind as summoned creatures battle for supremecy of the air. Any free demons pluck people off the group, carry them above a group of their fellows, and drop them to their deaths, while celestial hippogriffs, eagles (both giant and not), and others rake and smite any commanders they can catch. Arrows fall farther away now, picking off lone stragglers, small groups of archers, and anyone wearing the slightest hint of a fancy uniform. Screams and howls echo over the conflict, horn calls, battlefield bellows, oaths, curses, and magical utterances combine into a cacophany to stun the senses. It must be nearly noon before the last of the troops, on both sides, are called into a retreat. Casualties are prevalent on both sides, as if the tieflings were extracting a bloody revenge for having being caught off-guard. But there are several dozen elaborate commander's helms decorating tent-posts as trophies, proving that the tiefling advance must be slowed and slowed again as new officers must be found. Galan suffered few physical wounds from the battle, some faint shock when an electrical blast rocked the illusion-covered mages' position, and his magic is entirely tapped out, but nothing that can't be cured with rest, rest, and perhaps a bit more rest. Jillian is also wounded lightly, from the large area distructive spells dropped on the archers, but others are more direly wounded. She was lucky. Ssrian has only a few shallow cuts, as his borrowed armor, own shield, and impressive command of distraction powers deflected most of what could have killed him. Dozens of others were spared worse injury because of him. Sir Aravir suffered the worse, along with several other knights. They're favored targets, and even though Aravir is not technically part of the Knights Adamant, his fearlessness in battle, relentless charging, and fearsome battle skills were close enough to earn him special attention from the enemy. A swarm of scorpions nearly drove him mad with pain, and made Shade devilishly hard to control. Two demons tried to pluck him out of the saddle, and he collected their arms for their trouble, their nails still lodged somewhere in his sides. After plucking small dead scorpions out of all conceiveable crevice of his armor (and every orifice of his body) and having claws extracted from his ribs, one of Alharra's disciples healed his many gashes (and Shade's as well), in addition to Ssrian's, enough so that all of them could continue on towards their meeting in the foothills of the Highlands. ~~~ [b]The Rain, just about dawn[/b] "Winter" smiles at Darvekis, and seems to be considering his impertinant comment. Then he takes a half-step forward and backhands Darvekis. "Winter" then seems to go into a combination of deadly whispers in Darvekis' ear, and a series of elegant beatings. Ebony's companion, apparently more interested in her pleasures than his, manages to get herself out of certain strategic parts of clothing, and commands Ebony to perform in a rather specfic manner. He complies, keeping an eye on the proceedings, until a terrific noise lashes out from the east. The guards all jerk to look, as Darvekis raises a wand Hiitar had slipped to him a few blows earlier. He aims and fires a greenish, glowing arrow at the guard, who shrieks faintly when it strikes and begins to eat through his flesh. OOC: Y'all have a surprise round. What are your actions o' doom? [/QUOTE]
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