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  1. #221
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    Ian watched his new master switch his focus to Neyira. His hand tightened on his katana, He could feel the power coming from his blade reborn. He knew from life that his sword was a young one when it comes to runeblades and it would only feed and grow as he began his reign of terror. He could hear the dead call out to him from every corner of the battle. He looked down in his other hand and opened it to reveal his now grey palm. He focus his mind to shape the ethereal energy in his hand. After a second or two a ghastly green sphere formed in his hand. He spotted a wounded crusader and launched the death coil at him. The darkness hit the wounded warrior, extinguishing what little life he had left. Ian focused his eyes back to his master, studying his control of his dark magic. Then suddenly the flames engulfed.

    Before he could tell Lethean He would handle the wizard, He was already taking off. Ian held up his hand and pointed his open palm towards the wizard, and began to close the distance. He channeled all the sorrow and hate on the battlefield to manifest a coil of runic of power. The harder he concerted the stronger it got. "I could get used to this..." Ian thought to himself.

    Ians eyes flared and the death coil became almost chaotic. He muttered "Die..." and let the raw energies lose at Daren.

  2. #222
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    Darced's eye sockets held a dim red light as his body floated above the ridge that overlooks to battle. Thoughts race through his mind, thoughts, discussions, predictions things that he considered burdens, wastes of precious consciousness. After delving into the void of his imaginations the fires arose from his eyes, "Yes, perhaps it is time." His attention is moved to the chaos below, betrayal, death, disease, doubt. "And yet they still stand..." The lich begins to descend down the ridge line towards the fighting. I have to see, is this truly hopeless? How did he survive? Why doesn't he side with me? Doesn't he know what's at stake??! The creature stops as he floats past the crest of the hill, "Soldiers, regroup with our new friends, show the Argents our resolve." The marauders nod and turn toward Fordring's prison, intent on moving him and the remaining army. Darced continued his descent, with an unusual curiosity. Why are you here?

    Aldean was horrified at the newly formed death knight, but was unable to help Darren. He ducked as a death knight attempted to cut off his head. Aldean responded in kind by grasping the death knight and tackling her to the ground. He sat on her arms and began to punch her in the head, over and over again. He rose as others charged at him. "There's no way we can keep this up!" He begins to pant and swings his hammers from the ground, "What do we do now stranger?!" The man in white annihilates a wave of ghouls with a wave of his hand, and the casts a bright light towards the death knights. "We wait Grey! We wait for the puppeteer!" Just a bit longer my son.

    The Scourge suddenly began to stop the attack. They stared at the party as they finished their final kills and stood motionless. The death knights also stop, The look up from their adversaries and back away. The sounds of Scourge horns could be heard above and the army begins to retreat into the trees, ever so slowly. "As I said Aldean, we wait for the puppeteer." As the majority of the Scourge disappear into the forest a robed figure emerges from their ranks. It floats towards the adventurers and red eyes reveal themselves from under the cloak. "Hello, champions of Azeroth." Darced floats before the man in white and stares into the old man's eyes of a pale grey color. "Perhaps the titans aren't as dead as I thought."

  3. #223
    The dwarf pointed to the eastern field of battle to an older, grizzled dwarf who had a small platoon of rifleman decimating a large amount of Scourge and death knights. "The Thane." Then he pointed to the western front to a human fighting for his life against what looked like impossible odds. "Human." This dwarf is drunk!, Oliver shouted in his mind and started chuckling. I guess I would be too if I were here as long as these adventurers have been. The dwarf left without saying another word. Doesn't talk much....

    He saw a burst of fire that caught his attention when suddenly everything seemed to stop. For no apparent reason the enemy started retreating. They must have found out I was here Oliver mused to himself. There's strength in numbers. Oliver decided to follow the dwarf as he was obviously going to his allies. As they approached the wounded mage and death knight he discovered why everything had stopped. A fellow Undead was floating across the now vacant battlefield. This Undead was different though. He had glowing red eyes and dark energies all about him. Oliver could instantly tell this one was in charge. He spoke to a man in all white but Oliver was too far to hear.

    The dwarf and Oliver finally caught up to the injured pair and he could tell this elf was gravely wounded. She was a death knight but had been with the enemies so he assumed she was on their side. "My name is Oliver. I can help you." he spoke to her. Oliver dug into his dark pink colored robes and revealed a leather pouch and a small healing potion. Oliver gripped the pouch tightly and it began to glow in a blue light. The red liquid in the bottle began to bubble furiously and he attempted to administer the potion. "On a day like this, allies are hard to come by. I think you're going to need all the strength you can muster. I don't trust that one that can float....."
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  4. #224
    Darren knelt protecively over Neyira, eyeing the Forsaken with contempt. "What is that?" He narrowed his eyes, cautious but at the same time, concerned and impatient. You don't have a choice, Frostwhisper. Either you take his help, or she dies. He sighed to himself. Who would have known that I'd be so worried over a death knight?
    He stood and took one step back, gesturing to Neyira's form. "Hurry. Whatever it is you're going to do, do it fast." He growled. "The floating one is the one who's leading these undead bastards, forsaken. His name's Darced, and he is a lich imbued with Kel'Thuzad's powers. If I were you, I'd avoid him at all possible times."


    Lethean bowed to Darced as the lich floated by him. "Master," he muttered. The draenei death knight beside him dismounted and approached Lethean.
    "He has come. And he has what we need to win this war, Darkfury." The draenei said, smiling. Lethean cocked his head curiously.
    "How do you know my name?"
    The draenei chuckled. "That is unimportant at this moment. My name is Zyraneth. Let us assume we are allies, for now." Zyraneth gestured towards Darced, who had stopped and begun addressing the adventurers. "Have you any idea of what The Damncaller has done, that could possibly turn the tide of this war?"
    Lethean shook his head. "No idea whatsoever." He glanced upward, his eye tracking the frostwyrm's path as it soared through the skies. "What about him? He isn't a weapon?"
    Zyraneth chuckled again. "His name is Cerygos. He is a former blue dragon, and was resurrected to fight for us. The necromancer who did so died shortly afterward, however."
    Lethean growled, rolling his shoulders. "Why has the attack been stopped?" Zyraneth merely pointed with his horned head towards a cloaked and robed figure that had detatched itself from the Scourge ranks. Lethean's eyes widened slightly and he raised an eyebrow.
    "Okay then. Who is he?" Lethean asked, but Zyraneth shrugged. "No answer this time, eh?"
    "None. An ally of Darced's, I'm sure." He closed his eyes, leaving Lethean to stand in silence before he finally spoke. "Cerygos shall land shortly."
    Lethean glanced at Zyraneth, eyes slightly widened. "You spoke to him?" Zyraneth smirked.
    "Yes, I did. He is my closest ally within our ranks. I was a friend to the necromancer who raised him, and thus am now a friend to Cerygos." Lethean just shook his head, glancing back at Darced and the strange figure.
    I'll have answers soon enough.


    Cerygos continued to circle the battlefield, noting that the Damncaller had returned and the fighting had paused. His sharp eye caught movement as a robed figure strode confidently from the Scourge ranks. What is this? A mysterious ally has arrived? His skeletal wings beat the air steadily, and his thoughts were concentrated on the rythym of his wings. Suddenly, another, familiar consciousness touched his own.
    Nightweaver, Cerygos acknowledged in his thoughts. A mental chuckle rolled across his mind.
    Cery. We've got an interesting situation occurring down here. Mind grounding yourself for a few moments? Cerygos contemplated this for a second, then reached out with his mind.
    Very well. If it explains who this robed, mortal-like being is, then I shall be more than willing to obey.
    If I could answer that, I would do so without hesitation. Perhaps it can be done momentarily.
    Cerygos folded his wings and pulled into a steep dive, curious in spite of himself.
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  5. #225
    Mechagnome Mengucekli's Avatar
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    Grimgor made it to Neyira and immediately sat down right next to her. He was totally out of magic and his mind was getting even more numb by the moment. He looked at her and realised tears were sliding over his face. He wiped his face clean, there were little that he could do. She was bleeding out, dying right in front of them. He removed rest of what was left of his robe, effectively revealing his self-tortured and wound-filled body, and tried to tape the deep cut wound. He used his belt to tighten the bandage. Then he heard the horns of retreat, and curiosity took him over as well as confusion. "Why now? Back what?" he murmured, looking around in blurry eyes. Then he saw the forsaken apothecary standing beside him. He recalled how he used a potion to save their late friend Ian, and looking at him with plea "Eliss.. Elz.. Exzz.. Elexss..- Argh! Potion? Any?" he mumbled. Forsaken revealed his pouch and started concocting something. All he could do now was to pray for her.

    (( I dont know where this is going but if anyone else gets injured Grimgor may have to remove his underpants to bandage Oh the horror! Scourge beware! ))

  6. #226
    ((Oh dear. That could mean the end to all things! And we're worried about the Scourge slaughtering us all! Haha.))
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  7. #227
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    Ian saw that Lethean bowed for the lich, and followed suite. He mumbled to Lethean, "I take it, the Lich holds a high standard to us?". Ian gave the draenei death knight and sized him up for the first time, he looked impressive but paled in comparison to the one who turned him. Ian sheathed his blade and assumed a position of focus, yet standing nonchalantly staring out to the distance admiring the chaos, but upset that the battle was over.

    "Lethean I wasn't aware we were here to discuss politics, why are we letting them escape Master?". Ian had a hard enough time staying his tongue let alone his sword. He felt as though it was constantly calling him, almost like an addiction. It hungered to extinguish the life of all the living within the immediate area. He froze and unfroze his hand trying to get a hold of his new powers.

  8. #228
    Lethean turned from Zyraneth, meeting Ian's curious gaze. "Worry not. I'm sure Darced has a plan of some sort... hopefully."
    "He does," Zyraneth cut in, putting a hand on both Lethean and Ian's shoulder. "I would dearly love to reveal to you exactly what he has done, but I fear that would ruin the surprise." He dropped both his hands and crossed his arms over his chest. "We were merely discussing something for a moment. Politics do not exist here. What does exist here is bloodshed, and a war that shall be won by us."
    Lethean nodded. "And it shall, regardless of Darced's 'weapon.'" The ground shook as Cerygos loosed a roar and landed, his skeletal claws digging into the earth. He stalked over to the three death knights, surprisingly silent for being so massive.
    "This supposed 'weapon' is an intriguing mystery to me as well," the frostwyrm said, his deep tone bringing a look of surprise from Lethean.
    "I knew you could speak through your thoughts... I wasn't aware that you could actually talk."
    Cerygos chuckled, and the laugh rumbled through Lethean's chest. "Of course I can talk. Being raised into undeath has not stolen my ability to speak." The frostwyrm sounded more amused than anything. The undead drake turned his great head towards Darced and the robed figure. "I sense a great power emanating from the mortal-like being's aura, yet still I am unable to determine if he is an ally, or an enemy."
    Zyraneth shrugged. "Who is to know but Darced himself?"
    Lethean shook his head, glancing at Ian. He noticed his newly-raised recruit seemed to be struggling with something. He leaned slightly towards Ian. "Something bothering you?" he asked.
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  9. #229
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    The frost wyrm speaking caught him off guard, He tried to hide the surprise in his eye, but felt a little more relieved when he saw it rumble Lethean also. Ian was pleased when Zyraneth spoke of bloodshed and a great war, but did not like that he was withholding information from them. What do you have to gain...he thought to himself. He gathered his thoughts and answered Lethean's question.

    "I can't seem to project the frigidness as well as I would like..." Ian glanced down at his hand again, "I have fought others beside you, that is and one I fought stuck out in my head, his style unpredictable, his icy strikes seem to come at random forces a blow looked normal at first but then would hit exceptionally harder than the last, and the way he manipulated the frigid wind, it was remarkable...had he not been over zealous and given me the tiny window i needed boasting, I may not be standing here with you in undead bliss." Ian said with a wicked smirk.

  10. #230
    Lethean nodded. "We are all specialized in certain schools of magic, unique to us. Some can control frost magic with ease, some raise the dead as easily as they walk every day, while others are more attuned to their blades and utilizing blood magic." Lethean nodded towards the adventurers. "Neyira... she..." He paused, mixed feelings washing through him - hate and grief - but he dismissed them. "She is adept with frost magic. I myself am more attuned to raising the dead. Eventually, you'll work out that ordeal."
    "Fear not," Zyraneth said. "Once we've finished here, we'll take him to our superiors. Perhaps they will have some advice for him."
    "Whether they will or not, the mortal will take time to adapt to his new... abilities." Cerygos stood next to them, the difference in his size compared to theirs massive.
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  11. #231
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    "Very well." Ian felt a chilled aura form around his blade briefly than disappear. Progress he thought to himself. "I look forward to meeting these superiors, anything for more strength." Ian paced back and forth growing impatient. He caught the noted the hesitation in Lethean's voice when he spoke that name...Neyira. "Beg my intrusion My Lord, but I can't help but wonder who this Neyira was or is to you, from what I gather,that is before I was ran a skewer by that lovely sword of yours, you bested her easily." Ian stopped pacing and glanced at Cerygos. "He sure is big isn't he?"

  12. #232
    The potion seemed to work immediately and that pleased Oliver to no end. The death knight elf's vitality came back to her but her wounds were still open. The dwarf had bandaged her up nicely and the bleeding had finally stopped. He looked up and saw the three death knights conversing. This is not good. That warrior was strong enough when he was alive but now he has their powers too? We need to make an escape plan. I really don't want to die twice.
    The party was almost completely back together save the older dwarf and the human. Oliver looked around and saw that the Scourge had them surrounded on three sides. Their only path for escape was directly behind them, but he knew they would get caught almost immediately.It seemed hopeless. Then the undead dragon appeared again..... even more hopeless now.

    Oliver began thinking of his time at the apothecary. He had made many allies there. His exceptional skill at mixing potions had put him in high regard for many of the other alchemists. His one-of-a-kind potions were the talk of the Grand Apothecarium. His earthskin potion had saved many a life from the scourge diseases but possibly his best potion was his 'fog-of-war' potion he had created. That would come in handy if not for that blasted dragon Oliver thought to himself.

    He began searching through his satchel when he saw the dagger still sitting there. The deep ebon color of the blade was amazing. The etched markings along the handle seemed to glow a dark purple hue. He could tell this dagger had been used to slay many a foe but there was something odd about it. He knew many weapons in the world to be powerful and enchanted but this small blade was different. I almost forgot about you... He reached in to grab a firm hold of it, wanting to get used to the balance of it. When his hand had clenched the handle, he felt a pulse of dark energy go through him. The power was intoxicating. It rippled through him and he felt a strength course through his veins he only felt when under the effects of his own potions. He instantly let go of the dagger and began thinking of a way to use it. What irony would it be to slay that death knight with his own blade?! He started visibly giggling and was rewarded by strange looks from those around him.
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  13. #233
    Lethean narrowed his eyes for a moment when Ian asked him about Neyira. Shouldn't be intruding like that... then punish him for it!... But he's done nothing wrong... Lethean finally just growled, shoving all his feelings aside except for hatred and cold fury. "We were once close friends. We'd been travelling and fighting together since before the Knights of the Ebon Blade were formed. However, she made the foolish mistake of attempting to betray me not too long ago, and now here we are." He shrugged. "I bested her with ease because I'd always been the stronger of the two of us. She apparently still refuses to accept this fact."
    Cerygos chuckled. "From what I have heard, all I see are two children bickering with one another. I'm afraid taking this little affair seriously will be something of a slight issue, Darkfury."


    The first thing that had Neyira was agony. Blazing. Agony. Throughout her entire body. What the hell... ? Her body seemed paralyzed as she tried to move. She forced her eyes opened, and blinked a few times to clear her vision. The first thing she saw was the dark red skies of the Plaguelands. She groaned as she forced herself to roll over, realizing she was in a huge puddle of her own blood. She felt her stomach for any signs of the wound she has sustained, but the only thing there was blood-soaked bandages.
    I'll question how the hell I'm still alive later. Through sheer will did she stand, shakily at first, but she shook it off. Ignorign the looks of surprise she got, she bent over and wrapped her hands around her twin runeblades, feeling their energy imbue her and refresh her. She straightened and summoned her full helm, similar to Lethean's but much more demonic.
    She cocked her head, for the first time noticing the massive frostwyrm that now stood with the Scourge soldiers. Three death knights - Lethean, a human and a draenei - were speaking to one another, and Darced had approached, speaking to Aldean and the others.
    How long was I unconscious... ? She saw the robed figure and narrowered her eyes.
    "You're... alive? And awake..."
    She turned, meeting Darren's gaze. "I'm awake. I'm alive." She turned back to the enemy. "What the hell is going on?"
    Darren walked over to her and stood beside her. "Well, your friend-"
    "He is not my friend," she protested vehemently.
    "... acquaintance... killed Ian during their little face-off. He then resurrected him as a death knight, and before they could finish slaughtering us, Darced appeared. Now we've got this creepy guy standing with him while he gives us some childish lecture." The young wizard said this with a neutral expression, but the sarcasm in his tone was evident. Neyira grinned beneath her helm, despite the fact that she'd just brushed against death... again.
    "Right. So, when do we get to go back to killing them all?"
    Darren shook his head. "You don't get it, huh? Take a look at our numbers."
    She noticed that there were about twenty Crusaders that stood by them. The Scourge numbers had dropped as well, but Neyira knew that would not last. There were five adventurers, all standing side-by-side. She glanced at the forsaken near her, and saw he was drinking some sort of concoction. She shrugged and turned away, glaring at Lethean.


    Zyraneth glanced at the adventurers, and in spite of himself was surprised. She stands on the brink of yet another death, and yet again she survives. Brilliant. Her willpower is by far the strongest of the two. The sin'dorei holds the strength and impulsion, while she takes cunning, speed and strategy into the battlefield. They balance one another out...
    Turn her, Cerygos said through his thoughts, sounding amused. If you've finally come to this realization, then surely you must know that turning her would ensure us victory in every battle.
    I am hoping - futiley, I am sure - that Darced can end this entire war here, today.


    Lethean felt the link between him and oen of his runed weapons intruded upon, and narrowed his eyes across the battlefield. Ensuring that Shadowfrost was still firm in his grip, he looked around. What... Then he saw the forsaken taking a hold of his dagger.
    Numerous flashes of memory flew through his mind. He was a ranger, alive and healthy, blond hair, peach skin and all. He spun and whirled through the group of savage Scourge that sought to end all life in Quel'Thalas. The Lch King led their charge, while Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner fought alongside her rangers, hopes high that they would repel this dark attack.
    He spins, his swords ready to parry any incoming attacks. Instead, he is converged upon by two skeletal soldiers and a member of the Cult of the Damned. The Scourge soldiers give the cultist time to flank Lethean, but he is already finished with his adversaries. He turns, prepared to face the cultist. The human is too fast, however, and plunges his ebony dagger into Lethean's heart. The blood elf coughs and begins to choke on his own blood, falling backwards. He loses hold of his swords, and hears them hit the dead land beneath him. Milliseconds after his swords, he follows suit...
    He'd kept the dagger since his resurrection, first off because it was a suitable backup weapon for a death knight, especially after he'd inscribed it with runes. Later, whrn they'd all broken free of Arthas's grasp, he'd kept it because he'd intended to use it against the Scourge; a way to exact his vengeance.
    He tightened his grip on Shadowfrost, knowing the forsaken would not stand long before him. However, there were too many others to simply charge in and strike.
    Be patient, I suppose... The cold fury inside of him grew.
    Last edited by xensorlol; 2012-11-20 at 04:41 PM.
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  14. #234
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    "So then lets go finish her whilst she is weak, unless you mean to save her? I may be new to undeath but I know how these things can come back to haunt us further down the road." Ian looked off in the distance to see the dwarf and her still within a reasonable distance to them. "With our combined forces, they shall crumble beneath our might." He knew he was treading on thin ice when it came to this topic, but the only love Ian had since he lost his parents so long ago was war, and she was a cruel lover indeed...

    "In the mean time, I will let the "grown ups" talk there are still some crusaders in the general area that require my attention." He gave a respectful nod to Lethean and took his leave, still staying somewhat close in case the battle were to pick up again. He spotted the closest one to the group and pulled him in with a quick arm motion. A dark tendril shot out and grabbed him by the throat and sent him flying at Ian. Ian overestimated his strength and the weakened crusade went sailing past him and splattered against a rock behind him. "Well that was embarrassing", He thought out loud. He looked for another this time he concentrated and pulled him with just the right amount of force in order to quick draw his blade splitting the crusader in two on impact. Ian grew excited and turned to find a group of wounded crusaders, desperately trying to provide aid to each other. "Perfect" Ian said with a sadistic grin. He focused on the ice that now flowed in his veins, and he could feel a cold wind gather. He willed the frigid blast onto the group of crusaders hitting the closest the hardest, and splashing on to the next two. The howling noise it made pleased Ian, it was the same noise he had heard before, when battling other death knights. He was already growing stronger, now once this was over He could get some real training and become unstoppable.

  15. #235
    Lethean snarled softly. Apparantly Zyraneth knew what Lethean was gunning for, and restrained him with a hand on his plated shoulder. "Don't do it, Darkfury."
    Lethean shrugged Zyraneth off of him. The draenei went to stand in front of him, blocking his path. Lethean growled. "Get the hell out of my way."
    Zyraneth caught the dark glow in Lethean's eyes and shrugged in resignment. He moved, and Lethean adjusted his grip on Shadowfrost. Perhaps we can catch them while Darced has them distracted...


    They're planning something, thought Darren, standing beside Neyira. He was watching Lethean and Ian, and they appeared to be eyeing Neyira. Lethean's posture was one of fury and preperation, and he was worried they would actually try and attack them. They wouldn't try it... they know what will happen.
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  16. #236
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    ((Hooray!))

    "This is the Lethean I know and love", Ian said with laughter in his voice as he took his place beside his master marching towards there enemies. He finally was going to get to let lose. He began drawing the frigid winds both his hands ready to let them loose at his masters command. They began to close the distance, Ian placed on frigid hand on his blade channeling the cold into the blade, ready himself to deliver a strike imbued with frost of the quick draw.

  17. #237
    Lethean had begun to advance on Neyira, Darren and the priest, but his true goal was the alchemist. He can not be allowed to take possession of that dagger... he can not! "Ian," Lethean growled as they were walking, side-by-side. "You take them. I trust you'll be able to handle them efficiently?" He did not wait for a reply. "I will deal with that petty forsaken." He drew upon the unholy energies Shadowfrost harbored, and gripped the runeblade with both hands, eyes narrowed.
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  18. #238
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    "Your will shall be done." Three against one he thought, my kind of odds. He took off in a full sprint now eager to meet his former allies, and test their resolve. He lead off with a flying knee to Daren. The blow was intended to separate him from his ally. He took the full force of the knee and it sent him flying back about four or five feet.
    He then turned Neyira, still worn out but a threat none the less. He channeled a frigid wind at where she was standing, she moved in time to avoid the full brunt but it still clipped her.

    Ian had never felt such power before, he and his blade were one. It was almost as though it was leading him, guiding him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the priest casting a spell at him. He projected of shield of anti magic around him at the last second. "Come on now, don't tell me you guys wrote me off already?", said Ian with a crazed glow in his eye.

  19. #239
    The two death knights were staring intently at the little ragtag group. No... Ian was staring at the group. Lethean's gaze seemed fixed. It was as if he was staring into Oliver's soul. He had never seen such hatred and pure evil emanating from a single being in either of his lives. What's his deal? Oliver could not figure out why Lethean would not move his glare from him. A few more words were exchanged between them when suddenly they attacked. You've got to be kidding me? Do these guys ever get tired?
    The newly raised Ian attacked the mage with an awkward kick that sent him back and then turned his attention to the other members of his party. Oof... I would not want to be on the receiving end of that. That was when he noticed Lethean bypassing all others. His hatred and fury were fixated on Oliver and it suddenly hit him The dagger! Of course... All death knights have a special bond with their rune weapons and when the power began to leak into myself, he surely must have noticed. Not good....
    Having not real way of defending himself, Oliver reached into his satchel for a small vial in one hand and cautiously grabbed the ebon blade in the other. This potion will sharpen my reflexes and increase my speed.... hopefully it will be enough. He quickly downed the blue-green concoction and the intoxicating power of the rune weapon began to take over.
    Oliver suddenly saw everything... He saw the defensive spell the mage had put up right before taking the hit. He saw the dwarf cast his holy spell and saw Ian react in turn. Everything seemed to slow down... except for him. He even saw Lethean begin to charge with the his sword and brought the dagger about to parry with ease. My potion is good but this dagger.... is amazing! I have more strength then I thought possible.
    After parrying the first strike, Oliver made a slight tear in his robes so he could move more freely. Even with this burst of skill, there is no way I can defeat this guy. Dammit! If the Dark Lady were here she would show this fool a thing or two. If I can make one solid strike against him, it may be enough to put him off balance.Not being a complete fool when it comes to melee combat, Oliver ducked into the dense forest behind the group to try to use the foliage as a cover. In a place like this, size does matter....

    ((Oliver tends to talk to himself more than other and his thoughts were getting lost in a wall of text. Trying out a color temporarily :P ))
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  20. #240
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    (( I don't want to sound pessimist but if we don't move one of the death knights out of picture this rp will get real ugly.. Just saying. ))

    Grimgor was shocked to see Neyira stand up.. Again. "Imposs-" he murmured, then he felt happy to see her back on her feet. He stood up, and felt that desperation totally took him over. Then, while he was looking at the enemy, he felt a lightiness in his heart. "How felt, Lord Paladin must." he said to himself. He was facing certain doom, but in a moment of mind-solitude he reached the realisation that there was no use to hope for his own well being. He just desisted from keeping himself alive. It removed so much weight from his mind and heart that he felt light as a feather. "This it." he murmured, he was standing on the very soil Lord Alexandros Mograine gave his life for his people, his king and 3 virtues. He made his peace with dying and decided to do what must be done before passing away in glorious battle. A distinct feeling of furious lust for battle awakened inside his heart and he felt curious "So dwarves.. My people.. So feel.". He liked the taste of adrenaline rush, it was strange to him, but still somehow felt very relative.

    He stood up and saw two death knights turn to them. He took the dwarven cantina and drank all of the remaining beer and then threw it away. Now he was a totally drunk, naked dwarf with a shining dagger in the hand, bubbles coming out of his mouth, lost in a drunken bloodlust. Ian made his move and landed a hit on Darren, Grimgor roared fiercely and started casting Holy fires above the skies, but he realised his spell made no effect because of the damned spell shield Ian had. "No use of magic!" he growled in fury, tightening his grasp of the dagger to make a move, but he saw Lethean going after the forsaken. If he would be sane and sober, he would leave them be, as he would have little to none sympathy towards a servant of Dark Lady, but he was in a far-too-deep state of mind to remember such virulences. He looked at the magi and Neyira, "Should handle." he murmured and ran after Lethean into the bushes Oliver went. "Stab him right in pot!" he mumbled.

    (( I don't want to spoil anything so pm me if you have a plan ))

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