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|Forced Heroes > Cilencia > Act III: Assault On Ai!|
|Posted by: Master Zam Oct 7 2016, 03:13 PM|
The Door Jojo created on the Lookout droped Master Zam and those he traveled with on to south coast of Ai, roughly five miles away from the Lemon Sea. The group was on the outskirts of a decently sized town, hidden the gorgeous nature that was native to the tri-island country. Bright red grass sprung up from the earth along with plenty of exotic plants and flowers. The trees brushed against the skyline for as far as anyone could see in any direction.
In front of them lay devastation.
The town, although currently quiet, had all of the signs of a recent battle. Even from their distance, they could see the bodies of the police and military that went to war against the Kagzran barbarians, vehicles overturned and walls and buildings were collapsed and burning. Surprisingly, some of the alien warriors could be seen dead and dying on the streets as well, which was a sign that maybe all of the warriors they fought before weren't completely healed from their previous battles and were weak enough for standard equipment to put them down.
Or maybe these few weren't that strong to begin with.
Even with that factored in, there were still plenty of these warriors roaming the battleground and the skies above. They had a difficult choice to make here; either go in and fight these warriors, or take advantage of the fact that they managed to slip in unnoticed by anyone and simply seek out Keya or the Font?
It was hard for him to even consider the thought of leaving people who may still be alive to suffer and be killed when he could do something about it. But at the same time, he had the fate of an entire planet to consider versus several thousand people. The Guardian sighed as he turned to face the others. "For now, they don't know we're here. Let's take advantage of that and look for this Keya or that Font thing."
|Posted by: Contessa Von Blau Oct 7 2016, 09:16 PM|
| Contessa frowned at Zam's words, but had to acknowledge the point. They could save a few now, or save more in the long term. The ruthless calculus of long term conflict worked out that way. Doing both objectives was a luxury she likely would not have.
She hoped Pi was having more luck, in that regard.
"Lets see if I can sniff them out." Contessa checked the scanner. If it was here, and the signature was correct, she'd find it. It would feed relevant information right to the HUD of her contact lenses.
|Posted by: Abram Zima Oct 7 2016, 09:36 PM|
| It was supposed to be a normal day, a day away from all the stress of Kostra's illogical, illicit bullshit. It's a beautiful city, don't get him wrong. Rich in culture, history, good food, good people and unfortunately...a hell of a lot of corruption. Something Abram didn't need to see or be reminded of. So he took a break, packed a few bags and came to Ai with the intent to relax for a week. To get away from the stress of helping provide guidance to people.
May could easily handle that stuff while he was here taking in the sights.
But that wasn't the case, none of that was the case it would seem. Because Abram was currently caught up in a fist fight with a gaggle of screaming lunatics. Half-naked, screaming, axe-swinging lunatics. Which oddly enough, wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen or fought in his life. But their aura felt...odd, off, unnatural even; so much anger.
It reminded him of his youth a little. Being young, reckless, borderline crazy and suffused with terrible anger that made mountains shake and brave men tremble. And here he was killing men and women, some obviously aliens, some obviously human as he danced about, tucking and weaving around fists meant to crush and axes meant to cleave. The scowl on his face could have peeled paint as a particularly large barbarian, a literal mountain of meat and muscle wreathed in steel and leather slammed into him, carrying him for a good fifteen meters through a wall or two until several carmine red beams, speckled with motes of pulsating black punched through his body, perforating the spine, neck, shoulders and head with Abram back in his original position. Fingers trailing with ephemeral wisps of ki.
It was a half-second reaction to when he felt the faintest brush of pressure against his back. He vanished, blurring into action with so much speed that he left a physical copy of himself as he circled around the brute and hammered him with laser precise blasts.
Then fired a wider, unfocused blast into the back of his head as he hit the dirt. Vaporizing it. He learned from the last five or six barbarians that they were unbelievably stubborn, refusing to stay down unless he did something absolutely traumatic. Which meant there was a good chance they'd get back up and keep attacking, not something he was in favor of letting happen.
Not when he was in the process of keeping a group of civilians safe and sound. "Persistent little bastards. Gods, if only I was young again." He grunted, grumbling a little as he reached for his hip-flask to take a swig, then pivoted as an axe whizzed past his head. "Can't even take a moment to have a drink, god dammit." He grit his teeth, swore, and dropped back a few steps with a growl."This is bullshit."
|Posted by: Zeke Talon Oct 16 2016, 03:56 PM|
| Zeke tensed up at Zams words, but as much as he hated to admit it, they made sense. The old coot knew what he was doing. Besides. If the earlier conversation was right, maybe the barbarians would chase after the things energy, to a battleground that WASN'T in the middle of a city.
Still. With the monsters on the ground, and in the sky, they could get detected at any moment. All it would take is one Barbarian focusing on them out of the corner of there eyes. So, Zeke pulled the bandages away from the light orb on his head, and focused. "Don't freak out." He said. "I'm going to give us some cover."
With that, the group faded from sight, leaving a slight visual distortion in front of them. It was the biggest illusion Zeke ever made, but to the barbarians the group would be invisible from both the side and ground.
And it freakin stabbed lances of pain into his head from the effort. "Alright. We're hidden for about a three meter radius from me, but I've never tried to make a whole group invisible before. We've got about...." He tried to hazard a guess. "Anywhere between six, and fourteen minutes. Although, if I actually make it to fourteen my head will probably explode."
|Posted by: Gokan Bushino Nov 3 2016, 09:04 PM|
|Posted by: Master Zam Nov 4 2016, 12:29 AM|
|Posted by: Contessa Von Blau Nov 5 2016, 03:52 PM|
| Contessa didn't like how close the fighting still was. Picked up the pace, running at a sustainable rate. She could fly faster, but that was begging to bring curious hostiles. Didn't know how far she could push the boys illusory powers.
"I'm getting a stronger signal return as we keep moving. We're definitely getting closer." Contessa answered. Quicker they found it, the better. "Can't give you an answer in meters just yet."
She didn't react much to the saiyan leaving the team. Thus far, he'd been nothing but a continual liability. He could go and blow up in someone elses face, thank you.
|Posted by: NPC Nov 21 2016, 05:27 PM|
Violence Personified: The Barbarian Horde! Danger Awaits!:Fear Rage!
NOTES: These Ones Can't Be One-Shotted
The old man was tough. He was stubborn. He was alone.
His defeat was inevitable.
With every punch, every ki blast, the man expended precious energy. With every blow he took, he lost the same. Even if he were more powerful on an indivdiual level, the math was against him. The Kagzran--the ones he didn't manage to kill--were able to return to their feet. Bones began to mend and flesh began to stitch itself back together, their regeneration driven by their sheer rage. Other armies would've cowered in fear at the sight of one of their own having their head casually destroyed, but not the Kagzran. They just used it as an excuse to become more powerful..
The old man may have done a number on the few in the town so far, but the noises weren't subdued, and the rest of the Horde would arrive shortly. Though by that point, there may not be an old man left for the others to fight. In unison, the Kagzran forces let out a battle cry as they began to power up, the force of their Rage fracturing the asphalt and concrete that surrounded them.
And as they began to pounce on the old man, they were disrupted.
As the Kagzran looked to the skies, two of their own plummeted to the ground with enough force to find themselves buried within impact craters. Shortly thereafter, the source of the downed warriors was made known. The Kagzran had little chance to react to the newcomer before a few were consumed by bright blue ki and blasted through one of the buildings. The ki ruptured a gas line, creating an explosion that damn near took the entire building down on top of the barbarian warriors.
The three directly impacted weren't dead, but it would be quite some time before they returned to their feet.
One of the Kagzran women charged this newcomer and unleashed a barrage of blows toward him, but he managed to overcome with a superior display of skill and bat her away like she were nothing. The Kagzran reoriented herself and slowed her backward momentum, then shrugged her shoulders to reseat her armor.
And as she became consumed by pure Rage, the others went on the assault.
|Posted by: Zeke Talon Nov 22 2016, 06:43 PM|
| When Gokan ran off to help out the old man, Zeke hesitated. He didn't like the idea of leaving the old guy alone either.
But he shook his head, and ran to keep up with the scanning lady. He had to stay focused on the priority for now.
Although, that wouldn't mean he couldn't go help after.
As his head pounded, Zeke focused on trying to keep up with the girl. It wasn't easy. He used to think he'd been in pretty good shape, but she made running on the uneven terrain look like it was flat ground. He kept having to look at the ground, to make sure he didn't trip, then back to her to make sure they were going in the right direction.
It was difficult. And one wrong move, and the others would be thrown into the open. He didn't complain though.
Although, that was more because the growing pain in his head made it impossible to think up a complaint. He shook his head again, and as his breathing grew heavier, focused on keeping up best he could. He didn't want to be a liability, but with how outclassed he was physicaly, he was starting to feel like a kindergardner in high school.
|Posted by: Master Zam Dec 10 2016, 01:02 AM|
|Posted by: Contessa Von Blau Dec 10 2016, 06:39 PM|
| Well, Contessa had enemies pop in right on top of them. Couldn't punch or she'd break her scanner. Couldn't stow it, or she'd get hit in the opening. Also, she knew from experience the Kagzran could shrug off anything less than mortal wounds.
Immediately, she threw her body into a wheel. Free hand for support, she swung her leg around, manifesting a telekinetic blade from her heel. The arc would carry through at head height, decapitating any of the invaders unfortunate enough to be near. The full motion brought the other heel around, with a blade of its own, to hit anyone rash enough to rush in after the first strike.
And then the motion completed, bringing her back to her feet.
|Posted by: Zeke Talon Dec 16 2016, 04:21 PM|
| Zeke let the illusion drop. With the barbarians in the barrier, it wouldn't work anymore anyways, and the sheer relief of the action was an added bonus.
Still, he had to think of a way to contribute to the sudden combat, and quick. There was no time to summon up a golem, and too many to light on fire. If only he could slow them down in some way.
That was it! Mad inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning, and Zeke tore the bandages off the earth orb, before slapping the ground with his hand. The ground opened up beneath the incoming horde, and as they fell in, slammed shut again. It had failed to crush, or kill, any of the barbarians, but several were now stuck shoulder deep in the ground.
It wouldn't hold them for long. Maybe a few seconds at best. But, considering Zeke's travel companions, a few seconds should be lots of time.
|Posted by: May Merriweather Feb 15 2017, 11:06 AM|
A simple word with a lot to say for itself. One might get a mental image of a bottle of glue or a fasten on a wall, holding up a painting. For a soldier, it means something else entirely. It means bitter determination, and a line in the sand.
Feet flew along a narrow path. A bullet held in the teeth was removed. A break action was opened, and a new set of bullets was loaded all at once from a loader, each bullet as long as a big man's finger. Then, it was shut with a metallic snap of doom.
For a warrior, it means putting yourself on the line, back against the wall, to stand fast.
Weapon to shoulder, eyes narrowed, booted feet sliding sideways as optics were trained on their target. Then, thunder and fire, light and sound. Energy was pressed out with each squeeze of the trigger - into a long rifle designed to fell wyverns and fight monstrosities, into each shell that was to leave the mouth of death, hell-bent on destruction.
For a marine, it means being the thin blue and white line between victory and defeat.
Each shot was reflected in compassionless eyes. Men's chests didn't just get a hole in them - they ruptured violently, spraying gore. Women fell alongside them, about which Iron Bitch Sasha cared not a lick. The eyes - she could see their madness in their eyes, and her own emotions were lost in the simple art of the precision mark and the felled enemy.
One shot. One kill. Another set of bullets emptied into the horde. And another set of bullets that didn't seem to deter them in the least. They didn't get intimidated when the arcuul marine, cap-on-head and gun-in-hand shrugged off burning blasts of ki. They didn't get scared when she slaughtered them by the sixes, blowing holes in them as if she'd shot them with tank shells. They weren't scared of her. And they were getting closer, drawn by the trouble.
The break action opened again, and she was about to slot another rack of six bullets into the tumbler, when from the side one of the roaring madmen arrayed against her brought a sword down at her head. Her vision flicked, her arm raised, and blocked the razor sharp weapon on her forearm with a clang as steel against steel. Boy was the barbarian surprised - and upon the brief inspection he got a chance to get, her skin and fur there... gleamed black like scorched steel. And then his sword broke.
Sasha didn't even fully look at him, she just roundhouse kicked him and hooked his head in the 'axe' of her foot, hurling the man to the ground in the same motion and crushing his head under her foot.
Twelve bullets. Then she was using ghost rounds. Anything but favorable, this situation was downright hopeless. She was a soldier - she was dead already and knew it, but there was this... little, iron-hard ball of just... downright diehard determination that just... wouldn't allow her to just lay and down and die.
Fuck that. Fuck these lunatics. And fuck this guy in particular, she swore, scraping his brains off her foot.
"HEY LADY!" Sasha barked behind her, her tone unaffected by the boiling pot of anger she felt in her guts and the creeping sense of doom. "This isn't working, lady! I can't make enough of them dead enough!"
|Posted by: Gokan Bushino Mar 3 2017, 01:55 AM|
|Posted by: NPC Mar 4 2017, 03:27 AM|
Nomadic Guardian: Keeper Of The Font! Kagzran Foe:The one who doomed Eden?
NOTES: Plot Twist part 1!
As each blast rang off, the lavender, elfen woman shivered. You'd think she'd be used to it by now, but even with all of her experience, combat was never her forte.
Especially real combat.
Sure, she'd sparred from time to time in the past, making sure her self defense skills were competent at the very least, but never anything with the intensity of what she'd currently experienced, what she had experienced for months.... Years? By the cosmos, how long had she been running at this point? Did it even matter how long it was when they seemed to be able to find her no matter where she ran, dooming planet after planet in an apparently vain attempt at keeping a megalomaniac away from an artifact of tremendous power?
Sometimes, she thought it did. Then she watched cities burn and felt the reverberation of ki blasts and punches as those native to whatever hole she decided to hide in assumed it was a good idea to protect her at all costs and allow her to escape certain death more often than not.
And she saw it here, with the native Edenian, Sasha, her name was, trying her damndest to protect Keya from harm. But as she watched the flashes of light illuminate her face behind cover, as she heard body after body fall, the woman knew that there was only so much Sasha could do to protect her.
Keya peeked her head out when her shield called out to her; she acknowledged that her actions were futile, just as many did before her over the years. But even this deadly realization didn't distract her from the thunderous explosions off in the distance as the faint peppering of blue lights came down from the sky and on to the small town. Closer still, the booms of battle were heading their way; bodies were flying. Kagzran bodies.
People were coming. She almost wanted to get her hopes up. Floating over her tiny rock, Keya formed a force field in front of her to defend against stray shots as curiosity forced her to see who was coming.
Behind the ki blasts, behind the dust, she sensed ki of a familiar... flavor. Even more noteworthy was his attire; something vaguely recognizable as being comfortable, safe. It made her breath a sigh of relief that this backwater planet even still had someone alive.
"The Guardian of this planet is still alive!?" It was hard for her to hide her excitement. "You may not need further killing; signs point to us not being here much longer..."
TBC Master Zam's next post to find out who Keya is
|Posted by: Master Zam Mar 5 2017, 12:09 AM|
|Posted by: Contessa Von Blau Mar 7 2017, 06:30 PM|
| Contessa had managed to put away her scanner. Right now, it'd only be in the way. Kinetic energy sheathed her body, forming armor. Knowing the limits of their endurance, claw-blades formed from her hands.
She dove into the fighting, darting between weapons and fists like water. Punishing blows lashed out, cleaving open bodies and separating limbs. The first battle had taught her of the barbarians undying nature. Brutality was the only option, and she seemed eager to beat them at their own game.
And as the fighting intensified, she only became the more destructive. Her claws morphed into a one handed blade. Tore into them like a luminescent storm. Their was no rest, no fatigue, no stopping.
By the time they came in sight of Keya?
Their own weapons were being wielded against them. Wheels of blades spun like saws, and spears hurled of their own accord. Rocks parted, flew and smashed the unwary. She wasn't just killing them, she was using everything she had to keep the enemy at bay.
|Posted by: Zeke Talon Mar 28 2017, 03:15 PM|
| First, the old guy zipped off towards something. Then the girl followed.
Leaving Zeke alone, with a very angry, now very confident looking horde. Apparently, they had both forgotten that he couldn't run NEARLY as fast as either of them. "Uhh.... guys? Where'd you go?" Zeke muttered to no one in particular.
Following after them was now an impossibility. There were simply too many of the barbarians around him.
Even as Zeke's mind raced through his options, he felt a pit of despair in his gut. He remembered how easily the blue woman had shattered his golem before, and she had been alone. With this many around him, even the golem would do nothing more than buy time before the inevitable.
Well. Buying time it was then. Maybe he couldn't survive, but he could turn this into one hell of a bloody mess. The golem tore it's way out of the dirt, even as Zeke unleashed flames into the oncoming horde. A giant stone hand slapped a barbarian into the dirt, even as Zeke backpeddalded away from the slice of an axe. And as Zeke drew the heat out of his attacker, a half dozen axes burried themselves to the hilt in the chest of the golem, causing it to crack and fumble as it attacked.
Even as he raged his desparte, and possibly shortlived, battle for survival, Zeke found himself really wishing he could fly.
|Posted by: Gokan Bushino Apr 2 2017, 09:01 PM|
|Posted by: Abram Zima May 4 2017, 04:53 PM|
| Abram's was getting too old for this kind of shit, he could feel it in his bones as he cracked his neck with a sharp pop and exhaled as his lungs deflated, shrunk and compressed with the lack of air and from there, extended that sensation of compression across his whole body, pounding his ki into his flesh, muscle and bone, like a blacksmith shaping a piece of iron. The old man was getting too old for all this shit, the hostility and malice, and it was pissing him off to no end. "You little shits are getting on my nerves."
He grumbled, growled even as his skin sizzled with energy, flesh turning black as he removed his shirt, revealing a spiderweb of scarring across a figure that was leathery and tough, hardened with years of practice. Like it was chiseled out of hardened granite; the body of someone who's had more than his fair share of life or death battles. Refreshing to see them getting their asses readily handed back to them and by a bunch of kids no less! Oh if this were a normal situation he would have found it in himself to laugh, but there wasn't a shred of mirth on the old man's face, annoyance and scorn? definitely. These hide wearing bastards were making a mess of his home, a mess of the planet he was born on and frankly, that shit wasn't funny at all.
Adding insult to injury, one of them had fallen behind. Easy pickings for the barbarians or so you'd think.
The one who had retrieved him rushed in to help and the old man was impressed, but he wasn't far behind the Saiyan himself, keeping up with no effort at all despite the young man's youth as he tangled himself up into the fray as well, grabbing a barbarian by the wrist and twisting it up and around against his back before putting his fist through the back of the man's skull and pulping the brutes brain-pan. "Smash their goddamn skulls in kid. They'll do the same to you in a pinch."
Speaking of skull smashing, a mace blow struck with the back of Abram's head creating a resounding bang as he jerked forward a little with a shake of his head and a growl. That caught him by surprise, but the man had his full, undivided attention now as he swayed and ducked under the frenzied flailing of a man who was becoming increasingly enraged with his failure in striking a solid blow from there on out, while Abram was getting in solid blows that caved in the man's flesh with each strike, shattering bone and turning the man's armor, a thing designed to protect, into a weapon that punctured his flesh, spraying splatters of crimson into the air as he delivered a final blow to the neck, a simple chop, that all but sheared through him like a hot knife, sending his head and body to the earth in two different places. "No one's dying today. Except for these shitheads."
|Posted by: May Merriweather Jul 7 2017, 07:43 PM|
| The old man. Who the heck was this old god-dodger? He called Keya a god though. Sasha looked back at the strange, pointed-eared, oddly-dressed woman she'd felt such a strong desire to protect, that she'd staked her life to protect her. She wasn't a religeous woman. God-fearing perhaps, the kind of person that was very nervous about the whole concept of heaven and hell, the whole idea of there being some... bigger fight out there. She was not a religious woman. No, she bowed her knee to no god. She had masters, but she stood before those and had recourse if they acted against her. They were people, like her. Their job was to make sure she was pointed in the right direction. Her job was to do what they decided needed doing most. That didn't make them better than her, or her better than them.
God though. That was another type of hill entirely. She seemed frozen for several critical seconds. The warriors were closing in on her, and she, leaning on her gun, seemed like a dead dog waiting for the end at the business end of their axes and fury. This fight wasn't about men. It was about gods and monsters. That was the guardian standing over there, and these men, these... Lunatics were not reasonable beings - they might as well have been demons. Only then did things sink in for Iron Bitch Sasha. This was bigger than a random invasion. She couldn't have processed all that consciously in those few seconds, though - nobody she could think of could. But she was like a kid reaching for the cookie jar, just barely able to touch it with her fingertips.
A couple things could happen to her at this point - either she could be like the kid whom the jar fell on - die in this fight. She could be the kid that just wound up pushing the jar back onto the shelf - run away. Or she could have herself a damn cookie - NOT get creamed by the horde that even now was convening on them. Blood was in the water, and the sharks were coming, from far and wide, to get a taste of that action.
A soldier thinks a certain way. Step 1: Establish priorities.
Priority 1: Not get killed. Her eyes snapped up, and veils pulsed out on her neck, her pupils dilated, her aura spiked, and she turned [i]black as a scorched sky[/i as she let out a ripping snarl, very like a wolf. Axes hit her. Like, six of them, at the same time. She won. she didn't lift a finger, and they rebounded off her body, blades cracking. Hey body hurt all over, but suddenly, she had a weapon, and they, steel shards flying in slow motion around her, did not.
A huge share of the ki she'd used to harden her body to that extent flew into her hand, and she brought the Grenade she'd formed simply to the ground. Her world briefly became a confusing jumble as a result of this, but the detonation was catastrophic for her attackers. Maybe not deadly.
Not yet. Sasha rose. Her marine's tunic was cut in several places, and her body shone like gleaming obsidian as, almost slow in the diluted burst of seconds, she took aim. Her vision swam, but she was used to this sensation. She'd trained. She'd practiced taking shells, and practiced holding her Grenade in her hand as a melee weapon. This was routine for her. The first shot hit one of the flying barbarians in sternum. Right through their body, and out the other side, but by then the bullet had flattened considerably. She swung her instrument of death with professional precision, and plugged another's head clean from his shoulders as he'd caught himself in a rolling tumble. A third was closer than those two, and soaked a point blank shot, removing what used to be his chest cavity entirely for him as the ki-empowered cartridge annihilated his flesh.
Then an Axe caught Sasha in the back. The pain didn't even register - it was just... suddenly, she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She was driven to her knees by that. The gun left her fingers, and she drew her holdout on trained reflex, and pulled the barbarian who had struck her in, almost intimately. She blew his fucking head off, her face dispassionate, cold as ice. Another replaced him, and wrenched her arm savagely. She couldn't feel it break, but it left her world. Her other hand went to her knife, and she stuck it in that guy's eye.
Sasha went down. She went down hard. She was the kid whom the cookie jar fell on, after all.
|Posted by: Veil Jul 7 2017, 08:15 PM|
| And then, a burning figure dropped into the center of the fray, over the woman. Feet landed on either side of the soldier's chest, and a hand helped nullify dropping momentum beside the broken warrior's head, in the midst of slavering barbarians, eager for blood. For a moment, the burning figure could have been one of them, with blazing red ki, but... it wasn't really an aura. It was hair - red as a carnation, wild and long. Its face was white as bone, with red markings on the eyes, styled after a vulpine Noh mask. The pun of it was, it actually WAS a fox.
The vulpine grabbed the other Arcuul's shirt, and jerked. Then she, and the barbarians' prey, were abruptly about ten feet away from that spot, Sasha's body limp at this point - she was in shock, Veil noted calmly, in a clinical sort of detachment. She and Keya were now maybe a foot apart. She didn't have time for empathy - she had to save these people from these... these monsters! And she sure as hell couldn't fight them.
Ok, so what WAS her idea, smartie pants? She'd gotten herself in this situation. She'd stuck her neck out for a complete stranger. AGAIN. And now if she wasn't careful -- a battle roar rocked the barbarians denied their kill, a fury she not only heard, but felt -- SH-SHE'D BE FOX STEW!! YEP!
She delved into Clarity, as quickly as she could. She pushed away fear, pushed away doubt, pushed away pain, and took it from Sasha. Her mind had been pushing away reality these last few seconds - it was absolutely convinced it had been about to die. It had been! That was different now.
Veil saw a woman in there, a little girl bravely facing a coming storm, a great wave that, when it broke shore from where it stood on the distance, would break her. She took that little girl's hand, and squoze tight. Sasha, young sasha, looked up into her brother's face, and was led to safety. The soldier came to, and everything was crystal clear for her. Veil held her there in that clarity. She could see Sasha's remaining functional hand already grabbing a pistol from her boot - which Veil noticed in a moment that would probably wake her up later in a nightmare was right beside her head - And though one eye was full of blood, the warrior began to fire into the crowd of barbarians that even now were charging.
Veil's eyes flashed under the fox mask, and the air around the three surged with a ki that was on the other end of the spectrum of rage entirely. This strength had nothing to do with... well, strength. It was strength on the other side of weakness. It wasn't meeting force with force. It was simply being tough enough to withstand it. She, Sasha, Keya, the ground around them, the blades of grass at their feet, their hair swaying in the wind, for about eight feet in every direction became black steel. The Fox's ki became armor, a shield, for everything in that circle.
Having failed their assaults so far with weapons, the barbarians cut loose on the trio with their ki, with the intention of omni-hecking everything in the area in their blind, stupid rage. Veil cried out, fighting for serenity, for protection, that her strength could hold out against something so overwhelming. She screamed in defiance, in terror, and gave it her all - pushed the Black Mountain to the furthest she'd ever dared thus far. Plants were torn up, the landscape blasted, and dust rose high into the air as several of the barbarians unleashed their combined destructive fury on the trio below, hands outstretched as they projected blast after blast of ki.
|Posted by: Markus Jul 11 2017, 06:00 AM|
| He wasn't supposed to be here. Not today, anyway. A blow from the side of a sword sent to bounty hunter sprawling through the air, his spirit companion having been unable to warn him in time. "Sorry about that Markus, didn't see him coming." As Suzaku apologized, Markus stabilized himself in the sky, surrounded in the emerald flames of his Phoenix Shroud. The blow was mostly cushsioned, but there was still some pain. "And the matter of what to do with you...." He and the barbarian stated stared at each other for a few moments, neither one moving. Until the barbarian went to scream with rage.
Markus didn't like the way it sounded. With a foothold of green formed behind him, he pushed off and planted his fist squarely in the enemies jaw. Followed quickly by a knee to the gut, the thrust from his flames allowing the force to dent the armor of his foe. He went to swing the blade at Markus, but Suzaku closed that option, encircling the arm in restrictive fire.
"Take him to town Markus." The Hunter gripped the barbarian tight, flying fast and spreading the flames around the barbarian, limiting any resistance to zero. Dragging the screaming lump of green and holes of red along with him to the city. He was grinning wide as more came into view. "There are more battles Markus, make a left." He took the spirits order and made a sharp turn, dragging the rage monster through the side of a building, making a trench in it. He soon spotted a group of them, shooting at.... something. He didn't much like the looks of that, so he did what he thought was right.
A few embers of green jumped off of him, expanding into a group of about twelve vehicle sized birds that speed ahead of him, swooping into the group and exploding in brilliant verdant heat. Soon joined by Markus driving his captive about six feet deep into the pavement and then exploding himself. The barbarian trapped in the coffin of flame no longer screaming, Markus pulled in all the flame he'd sent down here, gathering it all between his palms as it shifted to blue, and then expanded outward in a swirling dome of blue that swallowed up and made ash of whatever was caught inside.
Markus stood at the center, grinning at the azure tinted world of the inferno raging around him.
|Posted by: NPC Aug 19 2017, 12:06 AM|
Violence Personified: The Barbarian Horde! Danger Awaits!:Fear Rage!
NOTES: Battle Reprieve!
The intensity of the counter attacks were great, greater than this legion of the Kagzran anticipated; greater than they could deal with. The Saiyan and the old man mowed through their numbers within the town, and deep in the forest, the telekinetic cut through swaths of the Barbarian crowd with her might, allowing the Guardian and the Arcuul to defend the front and protect Keya from any significant harm.
And as two others made their presence known in the battle, it became abruptly clear that, for the time being, these assembled warriors were succeeding where they hadn't earlier. Kagzran warriors, battered and bloody, remained on the ground where they lay following all manner of attack; ki and physical. There was no rapid return from to their feet, bodies regenerating as they siphoned more of their Rage to keep themselves in the fight. No, those that were dead, continued to be dead. Many gravely injured stayed as such, their burning hot ki unable to restore them to fighting states.
And so, what Kagzran that could get to their feet, those not injured but seeing the writing on the wall, opting for a retreat. This was not a full scale retreat; these warriors were not fleeing the battle outright. Those that could took to the skies, and those unable crawled and sprinted their way to safety. In spite of what their opponents may have believed based on their demeanor, the Barbarians were not dumb, and knew that they did not have the numbers here that they did elsewhere, and there was not a way for them to continue to win this battle in their current condition.
So instead, they would stay back, catch a second wind, and utilize their Rage to recover. Then, and only then, would they retaliate for the losses delivered to them in this forest.
Unfortunately for the dozen or so stragglers left behind, surrounded or under pressure from attacks, they would not benefit from this recovery. They would most likely fall in this battle.
But their Kagzran would avenge them.
|Posted by: Gokan Bushino Aug 19 2017, 01:03 AM|
As the old man literally put his fist through one of the Barbarians, Gokan received a similar blow himself. No fleshy particulate matter flew from his body following the blow, but there was more than enough force behind it to launch him a good thirty feet away from where he once stood; his body coming to a stop after a hard backward skid.
The alien..... thing that punched him was shrouded in their crimson aura as they took flight, aiming to finish off the former monk with a series of follow up blows. Gokan, fortunately, was relatively unphased by the earlier strike and was able to bob and weave around the strikes before he pivoted into position, striking with a solid uppercut into the Barbarian's ribcage. The words of the old man repeated in his head at that moment: "Smash their goddamn skulls in..." the man told him.
How much power would that take, to cross that line? Just how much stronger was he than the average rampaging warrior? Did he even have the strength to do more than stagger, stun, and injure? Could he kill one of them? Did he even want to? The Saiyan had only encountered lethal combat once before this invasion began; he was a foolish teenager with an apparent death wish in his hunt for those who stole his parents from them. He killed his targets that day, and barely made it out alive at the end of it, and it was then that, while he could punch someone until they were dizzy and vomiting, he could never truly bring himself back to that level of malice, not willingly.
Even though these guys wouldn't hesitate to gut him alive --one already had-- going all the way and taking another life wasn't something he could push himself into doing. So, instead of killing, he simply drilled the Kagzran in the ribs once more before he backed away and unleashed a dazzling Genshihou from point blank range. The alien flew away, and Gokan lunged toward some more Barbarians, unleashing a highly choreographed dance of punches and knees as his aura flared around him, highlighting his movements as he downed four enemies in rapid succession.
"Killing isn't my thing," Gokan muttered as he wiped some sweat from his brow with his black wristband, "Did it once. Can't bring myself to do it again. Punching these guys unconscious works well enough for me."
He sighed as he glanced over at the old man and the teen he helped earlier before he began to notice that some of the barbarians were retreating. He could give chase, but he would take this momentary reprieve while he could.
The longer he could last without having to resort to the Surge in order to make up for anything, the better he'd be.
|Posted by: Master Zam Aug 19 2017, 02:00 AM|
As in awe as the Guardian of Eden was, he couldn't let seeing a Kaiōshin in person disrupt him from his ultimate mission: these Kagzran had to be put down, and fast. The fact that they were chasing deity only made it that much more imperative that he does so. In his long life, Zamael met all manner of beings in otherworld, most notably the North Kaiō herself after being granted the role of Planetary Guardian,but he'd never even come close to meeting one of the five prime deities in person, or even a retired one.
Retired Kaiōshin were rare in and of itself, no one in the universe anticipated that they'd actually meet one, let alone one of the gods that were still active within the pantheon. Zam couldn't help but feel that he was probably the only living Guardian in the universe who was fortunate to actually meet one of those at the top of the hierarchy.
Then it took a kick to the face to snap him back to reality, back to the fact that he wasn't supposed to let seeing Keya distract him!
As he spun from the force of the blow, the old man casually unleashed a ki blast in response, and then another and another. The first shot removed his attacker's weapon from her person, and the second struck her in the left thigh. As she crumpled to the ground, Zam began to cycle his hands around one another, focusing his ki into the environment. Within seconds, the air pressure dropped dramatically as it began to be sucked into a centralized location, orbiting rapidly around the barbarian woman and anyone who happened to be unfortunate enough to be near her. As the tornado began to grow, Zam used his ki to trigger an ignition, creating an impressive firestorm right in the middle of the forest.
It was only the Guardian's impressive control over the elements that the forest didn't catch on fire during the feat. As he did so, Zam turned his focus toward Keya, who was under the protection of some newbie Arcuul moments before the three women were saved by another arrival to the fight. One that felt familiar.
As he began to notice the retreat of some of the Kagzran, he opted to serve up the remaining ones to their friends with a single move. Some more gestures later, the fire tornado grew and began to pick up straggler before the old man threw his arms out and clapped.
And then, the firestorm essentially burped; a shockwave of air and fire shot toward the sky with significant force, sending Kagzran into the air and out of sight. Zam hadn't taken out all who remained with the attack, but the dozen or so left would likely be mopped up by the others. Instead, the Guardian took the brief flight from where he stood toward Keya, the Arcuul, and the red headed individual.
Almost immediately, the old man dropped to his knees and bowed; a formality he reserved for no one these days. "Are you okay, uhh, my lordship?" He asked, almost confused as to how he should refer to Keya.
"No need for formalities," Keya responded as she gestured for Zam to return to his feet, "It is far too grave for such things. I do, however, appreciate the assistance you provided." The Shin-Jin woman then looked toward the two Arcuul who provided protection and to the red haired man who dispensed with the Kagzran who assaulted them. "I spread my appreciation to you all as well. I may not have lived through this hour had it not been for your help. All of your help."
|Posted by: Skarn Aug 21 2017, 06:10 PM|
| Having sensed the battle from far off in the Rodinan wilds, the slaughterer had begun his long trek through land and sea some time ago. It wasn't until just a few moments ago that he had come up on the shore of the island of Ai. With fire in his eyes, soaking wet, the masked, almost bare man suddenly burst into a short-lived flame as steam hissed from his body and his form dried. As he strode toward the battle he could almost feel in his veins, he extended a hand, gripping his rifle as he summoned it to his person, he couldn't pinpoint a location at this distance, but he could definitely follow his lust until he got there.
It took some time of walking, but he was in plain view now, able to be spotted in the distance to the north-east. Bringing the fire arm up to sight, he kept it trained on the larger group of warriors, the ones he could practically taste the rage seeping out from, and slowly began to squeeze the trigger until the din of a mechanical roar signaled the coming of fire and death. He dragged his shots across the girth of the barbaric forces, sending a hail of molten brimstone at them without mercy, drawing some of the Barbarians' attention toward him as they weathered the burning stench.
Calling out in a raggedy, grim tone, the man boomed, all the time firing in bursts as two of the Barbarians rushed him in retaliation, slowing one down with a few bursts of molten brimstone to the leg. "So, this is where all the fun was. I hope you all don't mind my joining the fight, by the looks of it, you might need it! Just stand back and let me deal with these worthless maggots!" Doing away with his rifle, the man had thrust his arms to grip two curves swords, charging toward the closest brute and deftly catching an axe with one blade as he brought the other to impale through the bottom of the head, only for a hand to stop his arm. As the other warrior rushed toward his side, the cloaked man shifted his body to avoid the rapid slashes, sliding the blade that blocked the brute's axe to hack at his elbow. He had managed to hit his mark, the end of the blade sticking out from the axe-wielding barbarian's arm.
Letting go of his sword for the moment, Skarn abruptly shoved the injured brute into the one that was now lined up behind him, knocking both of them over for enough time to grab and yank his blade free of the arm, now coated in blood that seemed to be hardened almost like crystal. Letting his rage well up, his weapons and arms were set ablaze in a hellish inferno as he brought both blades down through the feeble attempt to stop them, burning through the bulky axe and armor like it were hardened butter. Bringing his blades up, he thrust them back down into the brute's chest again before pivoting his feet and sliding his blades through toward the other brute that had gotten to their feet and aimed to bring his blade down over his back, catching the large sword and pushing his twin blades through, slicing it in three before rushing to sever the warrior's legs, then arms, and finishing it off by forcing his hand through the helmet and scorching the head from the inside out.
Extinguishing the flames, steam hissed as it rose away from him, the blades noticeably bulkier from the amount of blood that had been spilled on them as he pulled them out of the body. The rest of the Barbarians held their ground, barely resisting the urge to rush all at once as he turned his head as if to mock them. And mock he would, with a hoarse cackle and a flick of his wrists, shards of red would zip toward the group of remaining Kagzran, not really doing much but making them angrier and drawing more and more of their attention to focus on him and away from the likely already spent group of fighters that had been here before him. "Which of you worms is the leader of this worthless assault?! Come face me, and meet your end!", he barked, pointing one of his blood-coated blades at the group of barbarians.
(OOC: I hope this isn't too invading or stepping on any toes, I figured this would be a nice place to make an entrance!)
|Posted by: Veil Sep 15 2017, 09:58 PM|
| Veil felt the pressure drop off almost immediately and it was like someone taking a huge weight off her chest. The Barbarians died noisily, and she found herself.. Grateful. And that was a disturbing thought. No it wasan't, she said to herself, slapping the self-recrimination down hastily. They were trying to kill her and they'd stopped - that's what she was grateful to this other person with the violent, strangely two-face ki for. He'd quite possibly saved her life. She let go of Black Mountain, and her blood pounded in her ears... But the two women she'd been trying to protect, the soldier and the strange pointy-eared woman, were perfectly alright. As a matter of fact, she realized dullly, the grass, the branches, pretty much everything she'd extended her aura to cover, eight feet in absolutely every direction, was perfectly alright. Like, perfect. Untouched. Not a blade of grace, an inch of bark, or a hair on anyone's head, and the soldier, Sasha, her lips drawing tight with discomfort, was watching her.
Not awe. Just a professional sort of... Comprehension. A bit of admiration, maybe, for the execution of a technique she understood the principles of. Sasha wasn't amazed - she was impressed, at most. Veil drew up her mask to get a better, more frank assessment of the woman's injuries, as nasty and bountiful as they were. She left the fighting to the others - the warriors who appeared, and this... Old man, who felt strangely familiar to her. As the fight raged... She engrossed herself in the act of mercy, in the semantics of healing magic. She focused her strength, steadied her shaking hands, and grabbed the sunlight as it came down in her head.
She wasn't sure why envisioning the sun helped with her healing powers, but she could not deny that it did. So warm, so giving, a source of all life and all warmth. How could it not help? It seemed so fundamental, when she understood it, that she could hardly imagine how on heaven or earth she'd managed it the way she'd tried to do it before then. Magic filled her, and golden light flooded her hands as she soothed the woman's pain. Sasha sighed as Clarity again poured into her psyche as Veil gave her full attention. IT didn't even let her suffer as... As hands probed deep wounds, as bones were pushed and prodded, pulled. All she felt was heat, uncomfortable and buzzing like a bad coffee buzz, but that was all. And she never stopped staring.
Her hands were first. She fixed that arm up... And gave her a candy bar that Sasha was disinterested in.
"Eat!" she commanded firmly, and on automatic Sasha set do doing that. At first, she was disinterested. Then she was ravenous, just like that, as sunlight filled her body and she was mended. Veil shut out everything after that. Everything. The firestorm was lost on her even as it whipped her hair. On a high of adrenaline, healing light flowed like a cascading river down a cliff, reinflating a lung, mending a spine, by degrees making pins and needles explode across Sasha's legs. Once you got right down to it... Most of Sasha was fine. The damage was severe... But they had been at least brutally precise, with weapons that were, while horrifically violent in the damage they did... Sharp. The nerves were hard to mend, so delicate... But they did mend.
Veil collapsed, panting, wheezing for breath, and Sasha sat up, whole. She looked... Bewildered, and touched over her legs, pinching one toe as if this was hardly tto be believed. Holy shit. She looked at the healer, the girl's red hair spilling out around her as she lay gasping for breath like a beached fish. Yep. That happened. She ached like a muscle that would soon be very sore, but she was whole and that was pretty cool. She said so, and still dying like a mouthbreather on her back, Veil patted her shoulder, missed the first time, and then patted her for real on the elbow.
Sasha got up, ignoring the Kai, ignoring the Guardian and their gratefulness, and got her rifle again. Veil caught her breath, and sat up, shaking. She was grimy from blood and gunk getting in her fur after mixing with dirt, she was regretting having fur at that moment, literally steaming, and she was being thanked by a friggin' god. She tried to say something cool, something smooth and wound up saying something like
"Holecurtanksheh!" as she had a shutdown of all higher brain functions. The literal guardian of the planet, and a literal god, were thanking the three of them - the red haired 'human-ish' guy, the Soldier who even now was ignoring the pair of them as she loaded what, with a grim look on her face, were her last bullets into both rifle and holdouts, then... Extricating her knife from a Kagzarn's eye socket with all the care and reverence one might have for removing it from a hock of ham. Ew. There was a kind of... Satisfaction to it that sickened Veil deeply in a way she had trouble articulating. So she didn't try, and just put them both, Sasha and MArkus, in the box marked 'Killers' in her headspace. Dangerous people who didn't value life too much, and weren't too bothered about dealing with people they thought of as enemies. In other words,not people she wanted to probably get to know too well. The little girl on the beach now carried a rifle that would probably blow her arm off if she tried to even pick it up.
Veil tried again at manners, tearing her gaze off Sasha's back, and met the Kai's eyes. She rose, bowed hastily to her, then without another word frankly assessed the odd-colored, pointy-eared goddess. No injuries. She nodded, bowed again on automatic, and then sped off on wings of sheer bloody terror that Sasha most certainly did not share. Because she was a grunt, not a religeous woman, Veil suspected, not knowing just how right she was. Even so, the soldier put her rifle on her shoulder, nodded to the Kai and said
"Hey Lady." she said, lighting a cigarette. She puffed, relishing the first of the rest of her life after her brush with death. "We are not safe. They will come back and we better make like an exorcist with a quota and get the devil out of here as quick as we can." she said, speaking with a bit of color, but also a serious level of frankness and I-don't-give-a-damn-ness in her voice.
Veil berated her mentally, Sasha's ears flicked, and she added
"Ma'am, I mean." she said, looking unashamed, expression and tone unchanging. She meant what she meant.
|Posted by: NPC Sep 21 2017, 02:14 AM|
Nomadic Guardian: Keeper Of The Font! Kagzran Foe:The one who doomed Eden?
NOTES: The (former) Kaiōshin!
For the first time in what felt like eons, Keya let out a strong sigh of relief.
While safety was always a relative term, especially for someone who had been on the run from scores of individuals for several years, the pale woman felt protected for the first time in a very long time. She couldn't remember the last time she had been cornered in this manner, with a sole defender, and manage to escape that scenario relatively unscathed. Not only did she managed to pull through, but do sis her initial, Arcuul defender. Thanks to the amassed group of individuals, they were alive.
They were safe. Even if but a moment, she would take time to cherish it. She had to, she didn't have an idea if she could continue on if she didn't. Once everyone began to settle down a bit, the Kaiōshin slumped down a bit against a tree, practically exhausted from the whole ordeal. Things weren't even close to being over, but tatking a moment for some comfort felt nice. Her moment of rest was interrupted by a sudden, rushing feeling of discomfort; not something that originated from the Kagzran, but something foreign and malicious nonetheless.
Eventually, the source revealed itself as a man came forth out of the forest and found himself among the group that saved her life. The man... the being was boastful in posture and dialog before he began to take on what remaining Kagzran forces were left, beckoning for more combat once he was finished. Years ago, the Kaiōshin would've snarled in disgust at such behavior and would've dealt with such a proclamation herself. These days, she hadn't the power, and even if she had, she was too exhausted for it.
Instead, she opted to be frank.
"I do not know who you are, demon," she started, catching the attention of the Guardian of the planet with her words, prompting the old man to turn around in mild surprise. He didn't even sense the fact that there was a demon present, and he had a moment of confusion as as he attempted to discern how Keya did without much effort or focus.
Then he remembered that she were a deity. Of course she'd notice. "But your casual provocation of the Kagzran puts all of our lives in jeopardy. You are needlessly endangering yourself to call on a foe you are in no position to defeat on your own."
Of course, Keya's words would likely fall on deaf ears as the disposition of the demon didn't seem like one who would take her comments to heart. The man radiated a level of maliciousness that was only matched or exceeded by the Kagzran themselves. It was quite possible that the only reason he hadn't attacked the assembled group himself was due to the circumstances of the event that currently plagued the world for the past several hours. And as much as she didn't like it, now was not the time to make new enemies.
Her thoughts shifted back to her impromptu Arcuul bodyguard once the woman --now recovered-- caught her attention with her words; Keya nodded in response. "Not ma'am, the formalities are not necessary. My name is Keya; there need not be any hesitation in referring to me as such."
With another sigh, the Kaiōshin pushed herself off of the tree and returned to her feet, her eyes meeting those of the Guardian before she looked across to the others. "I do agree that we should not linger here for long. We must retrieve the Font. It is what they're here for, and once I have it again, I can hopefully escape with and rid your home of this conflict. They will not remain if they know that I have it, and they will give chase. It is the fastest way of ending this battle."
|Posted by: Skarn Oct 11 2017, 01:21 PM|
| Rushing in to dispatch any of the remaining Kagzran with blades and even possessing one of them to make short work of a few others, it wasn't long before Skarn stood amidst corpses, blood splattered around him and all along the ground. He had gotten a few gashes and bashes in his haste, but the last of them had been dealt with.
"I live on war and bloodshed, I gave several warriors the power they desired while I got all the fun of slaughtering their enemies. If you're so worried about your little friends, I suggest you all leave this to the men. I've been around for a few millennia, and as you can see, I can handle myself," he responded with that same arrogant tone.
|Posted by: Markus Oct 12 2017, 04:28 AM|
| Markus didn't really know what to say in this gathering. There wasn't exactly much to say, when he thought on it. Thanks were given out, but he never thought to ask for them. After all, he hadn't done it for them. He'd done it because he wanted to. These things were on in his home. That made him upset. So he was just fixing what he saw as a problem, nothing more, nothing less. Still, he did find some amusement in some of the reactions to being thanked by what according to Suzaku next to him was a deity of sorts. Mostly the little lupine arcul. "It's rude to laugh at people Markus. Think about it from her standpoint. She's young, excited to prove her worth. And a god.... goddess, just thanked her. That's gotta mean alot."
That did not mean it was not funny, but Markus stopped himself from laughing for his own sake. He nodded his acceptance to the thanks and then paid attention to the larger arculs words. Er, larger being relative in this case. But she made a point. They were only putting themselves in danger by staying, that point only being further emphasized by the warmongering thing that was still, even after their deaths, mocking the horde of enemies. Speaking of leaving things to men. That made him laugh. It was a good, heartfelt laugh that had him struggling to stay upright for a moment, but when he recovered soon after he looked at the demon. His demeanor was more serious now.
"A man wouldn't readily taunt an enemy they know nothing about. Men are wiser than that, and they definitely wouldn't mock an ally because of conceptions they have no grounds for. She's advising a tactical retreat, something you in your few millennia of life probably haven't had the pleasure of doing, given your foolishness here. You can only handle yourself because you haven't fought something stronger. Turning away people that can help remove the horde because you think you can handle it all yourself? That's not something a man would do. Those are the ideals of a child, and not even that. A child would have the good sense to run away from all this. To seek safety. No, you aren't a child, not a man, you're barely even a person. You're little more than a beast, howling for reasons it can't comprehend. So beast, if all you're going to do is howl and swing your claws at whatever comes near; perhaps you should leave this to the men."
Markus was now standing mere feet from the demon, staring him down, daring him to do something. Because he had very little time to deal with someone screaming for blood, they had a job to do, and the clock was running on that.
|Posted by: Skarn Oct 13 2017, 05:00 PM|
|Grinning behind his mask, Skarn swung his blades, sending a line of red crystal into the dirt before the man. "I'll give you one thing right, I'm no man. I'm a monster that won't hesitate to tear you apart. Cross that line if you're worth fighting, otherwise I suggest you and your little friends go back to playing savior for that helpless woman," he responded, the last few words laced with utter disregard for the fact was that woman was a Kaiōshin.|
|Posted by: Abram Zima Oct 13 2017, 06:44 PM|
| "Wise men speak when they have something to say, fools speak because they have to say something."
A voice cracked through a slip of momentary silence, old and haggard, weathered with age and a faint fleck of annoyance, to go with the spatters of blood that dotted his scarred body like splotches of red ink; like markers of importance on a body mapped with stories. He looked exhausted, worn down and weary with an expression that bordered on one that was tired of this shit. "As for you, you crusty looking shit weasel." He directed his ire chiefly towards Skarn, apparent disgust lining his weathered, sun kissed face. "We understand you're a monster and we, I mean myself and," he pointed at Zam, you know, the guardian of Eden. "This old bastard who never takes the time to swing by for a game of chess or say hello." He glanced at Zam for a second. "We'll personally make sure there's nothing, not even a fleck of dust left of you to bury if you so much as step out of line."
"Yes, hello, so nice to see you too." A twitch of a smile playing at the corner of his cheek, he was trying to hide it, but that fell apart a second later. He bloomed into a full on grin. "Ah, who am I kidding. Long time no see old friend. Still doing good I see."
|Posted by: Master Zam Oct 29 2017, 11:29 PM|
"Oh for the love of God!" Zam paused and turned to Keya.
The Guardian of Eden proceeded to bolt away immediately after. Everyone present had had their asses handed to them at least once, the entire planet was being ravaged by some malicious alien army hell bent on destroying anything and anyone in sight in order to get their hands on not only Keya, but some sort of item of significant power, and all signs pointed to them not even wanting to stop if they achieved that.
Bickering and in-fighting was not what they needed right now, not what the planet needed right now. Even if he weren't the man in charge with the defense of this magnificent and oftentimes horrible celestial body, there would've been very little to prevent the old man from marching over toward the newly arrived --and somewhat helpful for dispatching what was left of the barbarians-- demon.
Fortunately, another old, crackly son of a bitch got between the demon and the younger man who was confronting him, which saved Zamael some of the trouble, but of course, he had to chime in regardless given his role. "You're only alive right now because you were useful enough to help us take out these axe swinging assholes!" The Guardian chimed in, "But the moment you outlive that usefulness or the moment you threaten the safety of the world again by threatening one of us, I'll kill you myself!"
The last thing Zam wanted was a fight to break out between anyone or the demon for fear of what would happen if the Kagzran mounted a counter-attack. Regardless of his opinion, the demon had significant power to him and was far useful as someone who would help defeat the invaders than as a problem that would lead to their downfall.
And while Zam figured he had the power to put the man down, his goal was to conserve his stamina; he wasn't as spritely as he used to be after all, and didn't want to tire himself out before they managed to get to the Kharn.
Zam took in a sigh, looked over at Abram, and slapped him on the back with a hearty old man chuckle. "Your leathery son of a bitch, still alive I see," Zam exclaimed, "You're the one who needs to come by for a visit! I'm too damn old to be jumping from the lookout these days."
|Posted by: NPC Nov 4 2017, 01:57 AM|
Nomadic Guardian: Keeper Of The Font! Kagzran Foe:The former Kaiōshin!
While the two elderly men and the man with the fiery red hair began to bicker back and forth with the demonic entity, Keya let out a disgruntled sigh; this whole situation was unbecoming of her, but all of those involved. Their entire lives and the fate of this very planet and countless others hang in the balance while they bickered and squabbled. If this were three years ago (or was it three hundred years ago; mortal lifespans were tiny), Keya would've done away with this encounter with a mere gesture.
A slight wave of the hand, a snap of her fingers and the earth would've been parted. A mere ounce of her potential could've vaporized the entire countryside. A mere thought could've bound souls to the deepest, darkest part of hell one could ever imagine, and then she would go deeper still. Things changed, her powers changed, and the situation at hand required the former Kaiōshin to be far more diplomatic.
Fortunately, Keya was never really a rowdy deity, that was more the role of the Kaiōshin of the North.
So, instead of vaporizing any and everything in sight, she merely cleared her throat.
And several times.
"Surely, we are not afforded the time for this back and forth," Keya boomed, her voice immediately capturing the attention of Zam. "The safe guarding of the Font should be our priority, and if this demonic creature is willing to turn its aggression toward a mutual goal, then we must allow and tolerate it for the time being in order for for me to lure these Kagzran away from the planet."
"You know..." Keya diverted her attention to the young, blue eyed man who spoke up as he walked toward her. Zam watched Gokan's casual demeanor toward the one he deified and had a look of befuddlement, one Keya ignored as she focused on the warrior. "I've been stabbed by a bigass sword and we've been running around the world all day, and I don't think any one of us actually knows what this stupid ass 'Font' is." Font was emphasized with air quotes, of course, "Since you clearly know what it is, can we all get an explanation about what the hell we're risking a maiming to snatch and grab?"
As she looked over the man in blue and gray, the former Kaiōshin cocked her head to the side slightly. 'Hm, I was unaware that there were even Saiyans in this sector. Surprising."
"Second time I've heard that today."
"Either way, the Font is a vassal for what the Kagzran call 'The Rage'. I am sure they have shouted something alluding to that fact all throughout their invasion. What this Rage is, is actually a psychometric imprint of actual emotions, namely anger. There's many legends that regard the Font and The Rage by many names, but many align to the theory that Rage itself is a solidified mass of ki, sourced from an entity of tremendous power and potential that somehow draws upon psionic energy in order to grow in power. It s capable of imprinting itself in those it comes in contact with, providing powers to those who never wielded them and increasing the might of those with a hint of potential. The Font, in inducing unbridled anger in those it comes in contact with, as well as the amazing power it bestows on the one who commands it, is what caught my attention ages ago. The others did not deem it necessary to act on.
Back then, they were indeed correct, this Font was a non-issue, but I had the foresight to see what kind of danger it would pose if left unchecked, so I attempted to put a stop to it. Unfortunately, I failed in my task and was forced to use the bulk of my might just to contain this item and flee, keeping it away from the Kagzran in order to slow their progression. Eden was a backwater planet, so I believed that things would be safer here, but it appears that I was wrong."
Just as she finished speaking, there was a fairly loud growl coming from the forest, which was quickly followed by fairly audible and weighty footfalls. Eventually, a massive creature made its appearance known, tattered and bruised; clear signs that it had been in a battle. The various scrapes and cuts pointed to bladed weapons.
It'd been in combat with the Kagzran. As the beast appeared, Keya let out a sigh and moved over to it and began to pet it softly. "Do not worry; I believe the natives of this planet refer to this creature as a Pamyati. It befriended me many moons ago and helped to protect me when I was discovered by the Kagzran." Keya then focused her power into her hands to generate some treats for the massive beast, feeding it and giving it a reward for helping to save her life.
|Posted by: NPC Nov 6 2017, 02:52 AM|
Singh The Mystic!
Violence Personified: The Barbarian Horde! Hymn Of the Horde:Magical Rage!
NOTES: Mystic Kagzran!
The bickering and infighting served as a suitable distraction. That would be their downfall.
The maligned Shin-Jin took on a dusty, wisp like aura as he floated through the air; his k and magical energies suppressed to the point where he was impossible to detect. It was a delicate balance, making oneself imperceptible by sight and sense while moving just slow enough as to not disturb the surrounding environment. It was necessary, however. These beings, though paling in comparison to the Kharn, were not to be trifled with collectively nor individually.
The demon had more than enough confidence in his abilities, but even Singh recognized that solo, that was a battle he would not be leaving as a victor. The retreated and defeated Kagzran were proof of that. His actions of the moment shall be their recompense: the armies of the Kharn will return to combat renewed and with vigor and demolish those that stand in their way. They may require a bit of assistance, and that is where the mystic will come into play.
The pale lavender woman encountered the monstrous Pamyati in weeks past, befriending the beast and using the creature to defend herself during the initial attacks by the Kagzran. The giant Pamyati attacked with a ferocity very few animals of Eden possessed and utilized a rage that rivaled that of the Kagzran itself. The animal was angry; past trauma perhaps? It mattered not to Singh beyond the fact that its anger and inherit malice were suitable to be weaponized.
Just needed a push.
And as the group dealt with themselves, the demon made his presence known. He had to in order to do what he needed to do.
His sudden emergence didn't go unnoticed by the planet's guardian.
"What the devil...!?" The old man yelped as Singh smashed his staff into the back of the head of the Pamyati.
"This one is angry! I wonder how it reacts to a touch of the Rage!!!" From the staff erupted a plume of sickly gray wisps of magical energy that immediately sunk itself into the beast, which caused it to let out a vicious, vicious roar. "Yarost! That is your name is it not! These damnable things before you want to remove you of your rage! They want to destroy you!" As the pamyati roared, the bodies of some of the dead Kagzran began to stagger and lift off of the ground. These beings weren't revived, no, but their remnants of Rage were being stripped from their corpses and began to stream into their new host.
The Pamyati began to absorb and consume the Rage, amplifying it with its own pent up anger and frustration until the ground beneath it began to buckle. The Guardian attempted to react, but was blown back by the force of the rapidly rising, corrosive ki. Keya let out a howl in surprise, and in the chaos, Singh dropped down and snatched Keya from the ground. "The Kharn would love to have a word with you!"
"No!!!" Keya protested as she attempted to break free from the grip; it was a fruitless effort, however.
Singh then turned back to the group that surrounded Yarost and rose his staff into the air to let out another radiant display of energy. This energy punctured the ground and swam over the bodies of the Kagzran untouched by his previous display of might. Within a matter of seconds, limbs, whole bodies began to claw their way to the surface as zombified remains of what life died on these grounds in ages past. The newly dead Kagzran were revived in a similar manner. And as if on cue, the Kagzran that retreated also began to return.
"Kagzran, aid the Yarost beast and tear the flesh from their remains!"
Suitable distraction in place, Singh, with Keya in tow, began to shoot through the sky like a rocket. No need for him to worry, Eden's warriors would be plenty busy before they died.
|Posted by: Gokan Bushino Nov 6 2017, 03:52 PM|
Things were calmn.
Gokan should've known that that a sign that shit was going to go insane in a matter of minutes.
The Barbarians were defeated and retreated, which gave them time to settle in to the fact that they discovered and rescued Keya; that was good news. Some weird dude showed up and started talking shit, but others got involved with that fiasco before the former monk interjected with a pleasant roundhouse kick. The weight of responsibility was off of his shoulders with that, and he couldn't have been more relieved.
Then, when it came to this Keya person, someone who the apparent Guardian of Eden referred to as God, there were a lot of questions that needed to be asked and answers, but even the Saiyan knew that with time being pressing, the focus should remain on the topic at hand, specifically the Font that they were running around the planet, punching barbarians in the face for, and what it entailed. And with that question answered, they could then focus on continuing to punch barbarians in the face until they all decided to give up and go home.
Heh, about that that bit; turns out, they were still in the mood to fight.
It all happened too fast, even for Gokan. Not to say that he was the fastest person present, but at the moment, he was by far the closest to Keya, so he should've been the one to jump in once the mysterious stick wielding dude appeared and began to do something to Keya's bigass pet. Waves of ki began to enter the body of the giant monstrous creature while bodies clawed their way to the surface and the limb bodies of dead Kagzran rose to their feet like puppets on a string.
Zombies; Gokan hated zombies!
They were a tired cliche thirteen seconds ago, back when the former monk relegated such things to the works of fiction. Sure, they were fun in the Evil Residence games, popping them in the face and then running up to suplex them into oblivion, but real life? Yeah, fuck that noise.
And as the floating wizard snatched Keya and began to take off, Gokan ignored the revived dead and launched himself into the air. He couldn't fly, hell, he didn't even know how far he could jump, but he felt he reacted with more than enough time to spare to be able to intercept the staff man, blast him out of the sky, and then catch Keya, leaving the rest up to those he currently allied with. Unfortunately for him, that rationale was flawed. The big Pamyati thing, the one apparently called Yarost, wanted to play.
The giant arm ripped through the air with speed one would never expect from something so large, batting Gokan out of the sky before he even reached fifty feet.
The Saiyan ragdolled into the ground before his body bounced out of the impact crater it made and through several trees before he managed to roll end over end into somewhat of a crouched position, his left forearm being dragged across the surface in order to slow his movement. "Dammit!" He boomed; that shit hurt. Not crippling bad, mind you, but he was well aware of the fact that the Pamyati was more than capable of inflicting serious damage. And with the zombies and the other Kagzran reinforcements, dealing with Yarost was going to be tough.
And so, Gokan sighed, returned to his feet, and ignited his blue aura as he began to power up. Zombies and Kagzran were swarming to isolate him from the others, so he'd have to fend those asshats off before he joined up with the party again. The first undead attempted attempted to strike, but Gokan dodged, rocked it with an uppercut, and the pivoted behind it and grabbed the creature by the waist, quickly obliterating it with a suplex that generated enough force to uproot the ground, throwing debris into the others that attempted to attack and flinging them some distance away.
"Looks like video games are paying off." Extra bonus: he didn't have to hold back on something already dead.
|Posted by: Skarn Nov 10 2017, 07:10 PM|
| As the events unfolded Skarn couldn't help but growl out, "I told you to watch her, but you just had to-", stopping mid-sentence as the big scaaaary wizard began to raise the dead and corrupt the Pamyati. "Are you fucking serious? That's it? That's your plan?", he shouted out in disgust at Singh to little effect as the mage flew away with Keya in tow. The recently re-animated shouldn't be too much of an issue, but the corrupted beast might prove to be a bit of a problem, especially if the rest of them wanted to keep it alive for whatever reason.
Moving to dismember and decapitate one of the nearby raised barbarian, the demon groaned at the retaliatory assault. Calling out to the others, he had an idea. One that they'd probably agree with, given the urgency or their situation. "This shit's going to take too long! We could try to destroy them all in one big blast, if you have the energy. Maybe I can try to take the beast for a spin, see how it handles for a change, but we need to get a plan together. NOW."
|Posted by: Master Zam Dec 1 2017, 11:19 PM|
"Son of a bitch!""
It was a simple sentence that encapsulated just about everything the Guardian of Eden felt about the entire situation up to this point. Didn't matter if it was about the initial attack on the planet, the struggle it was to gather up individuals strong enough to help defend the world against the assault, or the very situation they all found themselves in at the very moment, the meaning was clear behind Zam's words.
Specifically, however, he was focused on how in the span of five minutes, since the arrival of the demon, their entire battle plan went to hell.
The demon caused enough of a ruckus, enough of a distraction for Keya to have been kidnapped by the Kagzran, her beast of a Pamyati enraged and turned against them. The reanimated corpses of the barbarians and the zombies pulled from the soil weren't much of a concern in the grand scheme; they were a nuisance more than anything. But them, the Kagzran in the skies primed for a counter-attack, and the monster seemingly named Yarost were things that would prove to be difficult, and he knew it. It was the only reason why he didn't bother to kill the demon on the spot.
The old man's eyes zipped across the battlefield as the Saiyan pounced, taking to the air in a single bound in order to catch up to Keya's kidnapper, only to be smacked out of the sky by the Pamyati, utterly surprising Zam with its speed. He'd come across Pamyati before, but nothing that fast. It was as clear as day that they'd need to subdue the mind controlled Yarost before they could even begin to mount a rescue.
The wall of Kagzran and cannon fodder needed to be cleared of, first.
Taking a deep breath, Zam lunged forward and delivered a sharp elbow into an encroaching zombie; the force launched it like a rocket into a Kagzran that cleaved it in half with an axe. The entire move was a distraction, allowing Zam to get close and generate a wave of ki that chilled the air around the woman and her immediate allies. Within a heartbeat, they were trapped in a sheathe of ice. Zamael took the axe in response and hurled it toward someone else before he took off once more, powering up along the way.
Three steps later, the old man was in the air to drive a knee into the face of the Pamyati. The beast growled in frustration and swatted the old man way. Three flips through the air later, the Guardian landed on his feet and intensified his aura as he power increased further. "Don't hold back on him!!" The man exclaimed as he flexed and shouted. Within seconds, he was consumed by a crimson aura as he activated Kaiō-Ken, rapidly tripling his power in an instant. Sure, Zam could've powered up to his current level without the use of the technique as he was nowhere near full power without it --yes, that flew in the face of his statement -- but his old body didn't work like it used to and that would've taken precious seconds he didn't want to waste. His arms were quickly rotated and brought to his left side before he began to palm a sizable sphere of ki between them.
a step forward later, Zam unleashed his Kaiōhameha, allowing the massive wave of blue energy to stream forward toward the Pamyati. Yarost screamed and charged toward the blast as it engulfed hi and damn near sprinted through the whole thing before he casually smashed the old man deep into the ground.
Zam screamed in pain. Then he screamed again.
"Someone hit this damned thing!"
|Posted by: Abram Zima Dec 8 2017, 02:01 AM|
| So much unfolded in such a short span of time that Abram had trouble focusing on any one thing. What he did know was that someone snagged the Kaiō woman, there were zombies....fucking zombies, of all the things that could happen in this day and age. It had to be zombies.
Abrams hated those goddamn zombie movies and everything about them with an unrivaled passion.
But most importantly, the large beast had apparently lost it's mind and the man closed his eyes, sighed and relaxed a little. The second he had opened them again, he looked a decade older but far, far more dangerous in that moment as he spoke in a hushed whisper. "I hate doing this, it hurts me to do this, but it is time to preach a sermon of blood and fists." His gaze was fixed to Yarost as a growl left his lips, a soft challenge that was barely a whisper at first as a geyser of energy flared up around the old man. Then the whisper became a deafening roar, the ground began to tremble and even small bits of debris began to lift off the ground.
To the people that could feel energy, it was a rapid rise in power that seemed to continue to spike and grow in leaps and bounds and within it was a small seed of savage fury that seemed to be growing from within a bed of tranquility. Abram was centering himself even as he cut loose as some would put it, as he forced himself to regress within that growing vortex of raw power. All the way back to the prime of his life, back to when people where afraid, and rightly so, of the red king.
It was like staring down one of the many famed beasts of Rodina and all you had for protection was a twig.
Except his power was still growing. The gap was widening and to those that knew the history of Abram Konstantin Zima, about his time as the red king of the reach, would easily know why he was still regarded as the king of those mountains, why the people, the bandits he cared for, treated like a family, refused to accept anyone else into that position.
And it wasn't just the fact he treated them, the destitute humans and arcuul, the outcasts, even the blackbloods that made up his mountain based family like actual people instead of criminals.
It was because he was a goddamn monster in his own right.
As the geyser exploded around him, two beams of energy flung free from the cloud of dust before coalescing into one larger stream aimed for the Enraged beast. This Stygian fang was like a massive battering ram of red and black about as massive as a redwood trees trunk and at the other end, where the leathery old man once stood, was a man in his mid twenties with long, wild hair and covered in a sheen of metallic red streaked with obsidian. The identifying hallmark of his Reihado-ken stonehands. "Alright, no more bullshit!"
|Posted by: NPC Jan 11 2018, 06:56 PM|
Yarost the Destroyer!
Violence Personified: The Barbarian Horde! Beast Of The Kagzran:Pamyati Rage!
NOTES: Mystic Kagzran!
The mountain of a Pamyati roared as the Guardian of Eden lay beneath his fist, being driven into the ground further and further as the seconds passed. As the old man struggled beneath the limb, Yarost did applied far more force. The man cried out for assistance, and Yarost struck even harder.
One of the Kagzran wandered close to the raging Pamyati, likely coming close to aid the nigh-feral beast in his assault on the assembled forces. Unfortunately for the warrior, Yarost didn't bother to make a distinction between friend and foe, and simply snatched the alien warrior from out of the sky and slammed her into the ground multiple times as well before casually chucking her broken and battered body off to the side.
It was that lull in pounding on the Guardian that allowed the old man to gain some leverage which he began to use to force Yarost back. No longer distracted, the Pamyati turned to focus his attack back on the Guardian, only to be momentarily blinded by a sudden surge of light and pressure as one of the others began to power up significantly. In response to that, pure Rage began to bubble from Yarost's mouth as he gathered his power to blast the soon to be attacker, only to receive a powerful dropkick to the side of his face.
Yarost roared as the white hot blast that was bound for the man powering up was blasted off into the sky instead, interrupted by the Saiyan. As the elder Guardian took a moment to recover, the Saiyan followed up with an uppercut and a series of powerful left hooks. A surprising burst of speed from the massive pamyati nearly took the Saiyan's head off while he fluttered momentarily in mid-air, but he was pulled to the ground by the aforementioned Guardian.
"Someone hit this thing while he's distracted!" The Saiyan boomed.
Yarost then let out a shout of his own, and then another stream of pure Rage at the two men. That too, was interrupted, as a sudden wave of powerful ki engulfed the monster before tossing him across the battlefield. It didn't hold him back for long, however, as he began to hammer away at the mass of ki in his rapid approach toward the crowd of fighters.
|Posted by: Markus Jan 12 2018, 11:34 AM|
| This was a clusterfuck. Plain and simple. This whole damn invasion was just about ready to make Markus crack and just go straight to immolation first and sift through the ashes later mode. But with this many people around and a good few of them being allies, he didn't want to go straight to anything that might flat out kill them. So instead he went into tactics. The red head was suddenly shrouded in green flames and shot up into the air, throwing off flecks of emerald that quickly grew into their proper forms. The Phoenix Flower was soon in full bloom, with the flock of vehicle sized green flame birds circling around Markus. They didn't stay around him for long. The large fire constructs soon swooped down, some of them focusing on the dead men walking and the majority of them, a good fifteen or so, focusing on the raging Pamyati. He was aiming to overwhelm the monster with numerous superheated birds. And although the flames might not scorch it, they still had some very sharp talons.
Even without that, getting hit by them would still feel like getting slammed by several vehicles at full speed. Something Markus was counting on.
While Markus directed them to do that, he weaved the others to attack, burn, swarm, and cremate the zombies. Making sure that they couldn't and wouldn't be getting back up dead or not. Anything that wasn't designated as an ally was cooked into ash, anything that was, avoided like the damn plague. If nothing else he could help with crowd control and keep the bigger thing distracted from the bigger threats of their little group. Once the dead were taken care of he was going to focus on using the solid flames to restrain and subdue the big guy.
|Posted by: Skarn Jan 16 2018, 04:57 PM|
| Watching the fiery constructs incinerate the horde of dead, and after the focused assault on Yarost, Skarn decided to rush toward the beast as he sent his blades back from where he summoned them. He ran as fast as he could, passing by Markus and Abrams as he summoned his rifle again, aiming to send a shower of molten brimstone at the beast's face to try and blind it as he neared. Surely it was a madman's effort at this point, but if he could actually pull off possessing the beast and calming it down, they'd be able to hurry and have an actual chance at averting a far worse crisis.
Taking his chance and leaping up into the air, he tried to angle himself to get a better landing against the beast's head where the demon would plant his hands against it and try to possess the enraged Pamyati and meld into it before it could try to knock him off or worse. Here's hoping he could pull it off.