248 replies to this topic

[Chizzy]

Apollo Price

Location - Outer Wall
Faction - Crusader

Apollo managed to survey the battlefield, and get a decent grasp on the current situation, despite all of the frantic running and chasing he was involved in. The assault was planned, that much was obvious; however, this rabid raid wasn't carefully prepared for. Not to mention the entire thing was pretty sloppy in execution. However, the most puzzling issue was the fact that he still couldn't wrap his mind around why the lycans were here attacking Memorium city in the first place. Needless to say, If he could find a way to take down the white alpha wolf then that would definitely turn the tide of battle for the crusaders. Sadly, there were more immediate problems Apollo was concerned with at the moment. (He needed to deal with the annoying wolves rushing behind him first.) Luckily, with all of the training he had gone through, now was a good time to show just how far he had come.

Quickly pivoting on his heel, Apollo swiftly spun 180 degrees before slamming down his feet; allowing them to slowly sink into the dirt. Without any hesitation, the young solider began charging straight toward his adversaries. His battered shield started to glow a bright white as he continued to sprint towards the lycan enemies. Meanwhile, Toto quickly fled into one of Apollo's pouches. Poor thing shivered from fear. With a single eye narrowly locked on the three wolves, the silver-haired crusader proceeded to extend his arm out from the side of his body -- parallel to the ground. Judging from how bloodthirsty the beasts were in their chase, he figured they didn't have enough time to properly react to his counter attack.

SMASH!

Apollo clotheslined the three dogs with a power that was amplified by his holy shield.

Shaking the pain off of his arm from the impact, Apollo scuttled over and pierced each knocked out lycan through the heart with his sword to ensure they were dead. He took a moment to pray for the lost pups and thanked the Lord for protection. Turning his head -- looking toward Dazzle's direction -- caused Apollo to squint. The werewolf stood shining bright like the morning sun! Using his arm to mitigate the blinding light from his eye, he quickly made his way next to a familiar face, Sarah Button. Apollo wasn't gonna lie. This girl scared the crap out of him (and for good reason). He had never thought a human, let alone a girl, could be so damn strong. His days back in the military were filled with memories of countless crusaders getting their asses handed to them by this monstrous woman. Of the soldiers his age, Flynn was arguably the only one Apollo could claim was better than her.

Well, whatever the case, if there was anyone that could take down Dazzle it was Sarah.

"Hey Sarah! Long time no see! After all of these years it's kinda disappointing to see you're still as flat as a pancake, haha!" Apollo laughed with a cheesy smile, knowing he would probably regret telling this awful joke.

"Anyway, I was able to look around the area earlier. We don't have much time to fight the alpha before lycan reinforcements come. I'll try my best to block everything he throws our way. You just focus on taking him down!"

Apollo tightened the grip on his shield as he brandished his sword at the sparkling wolf. Hoping to gather himself and gain courage, the one-eyed boy chanted a small prayer, "I run to you, Lord, for protection. Don't disappoint me. You do what is right, so come to my rescue. Listen to my prayer and keep me safe. Amen."

With that Apollo cautiously approached the dazzling wolf with his shield raised, as holy energy began transfiguring into a powerful barrier. It was difficult to see things clearly, but he had full focus on the situation and was prepared for anything that could come in harm's way.

Edited by TG arteezy, 20 February 2015 - 01:32 AM.

[Liar]

Father Lasairian

Outer Wall

 

When he learned Father Vittore passed away, leaving the orphanage he grew up in without the loving guidance of the elderly priest, Lasairian retired from his service with the Crusaders to take up the man’s mantle. Children were gifts of God, not to be squandered or left to chance. A kind, firm hand was needed to guide them onto the path of righteousness lest they veer off from the course that led them into the bosom of Christ.

 

Like when Father Vittore was there for him after his parents were murdered, the children in the orphanage needed someone to be there for them. Lasairian had no regrets with his decision to enter the priesthood to do just that.

 

“Father, the children are safe in the bunker,” Sister Maria announced as she entered his office, both her hands clutching her rosary as she muttered silent prayers.

 

Lasairian turned from where he stood facing the window, smiling gently at the motherly nun to keep her at ease. He understood her worries. She didn’t care if those abominable lycans attack her, but if the children were harmed… Yes, he understood.

 

“Thenk ye, Maria. Gang back an’ swatch efter them, will ye?” he spoke in heavy brogue. “Ah need tae gang an’ offer mah help tae th’ Crusaders.”

 

Sister Maria knew his past as a Crusader, having grown up with him in the very same orphanage. Whereas he had joined the Crusaders, she had entered the convent. When Father Vittore died, they both returned to become the orphanage’s new caretakers. However, despite knowing fully how competent her old friend was, she couldn’t help but worry.

 

However, Lasairian recognized the anxiousness on her face. He quickly closed the gap between them, their different in height allowing him to easily reach up and tussle the top of her head in a manner reminiscent to their childhood when he had acted like an older brother to her, protecting her from the bullies that had the audacity to be mean to such a kind soul.

 

“Ah’ll be alrecht.”

 

With those parting words, he left her and the orphanage. As he took the streets of Memorium, he headed towards the outer wall where the battle was taking place. His blood boiled with anticipation. He remembered his days as a Crusader, purging the world of those damn vampires and lycans. Lasairian would become God’s hand and smite these abominations.

 

He offered a prayer, “By th’ grace ay God main Ah aye honur, thenk an’ adair th’ Laird God fa created his blessed children gart efter his ain image an’ likeness. Lit me love th’ God fa gae cheil free will an’ sit them ower th’ whole warld, tae hae th’ dominion ower th’ fesh ay th’ brine, an’ ower th’ kimmers ay th’ air, an’ ower th’ cattle, an’ ower aw th’ earth, an’ ower every creepin’ hin’ ‘at creeps upon th’ earth. Strike doon th’ abominations Ah sit it tae eliminate lest they harm yer children. Send them tae th’ burnin’ inferno ay heel frae which they originated frae. Gezz th’ strength tae purge these monsters ay th’ nicht frae th’ earth an’ brin’ grace an’ righteoosness back intae thes warld yer children caa haem. Amen.”

 

His body burned with fervor.

 

----------

 

By the time he arrived to the battlefield, chaos had already descended. It was a melee. Lasairian had avoided the main streets, taking care to use only the alleys he was familiar with to arrive here. He had come across some lycans along the way, easily taking them down with a few strikes from his baton. He spat on their downed forms after breaking their necks. Lasairian had left kind mercy back at the orphanage.

 

Currently, he still remained hidden in the alley, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be sucked into the battle. His eyes fell on the silver wolfman commanding the others. “That’s th’ leader,” he thought. However, before he could do anything, he spotted two humans moving out to attack him. Upon closer inspection, he realized they looked too young to be veteran Crusaders! “They’re only children!”

 

Fortunately, the silver lycan responded without killing them, but it just meant he literally threw the children to the wolves. He transformed into a being that shined of sunlight, and Lasairian cursed how bright the thing was. Whatever the case was, he soon recognized it was his chance to strike. The lycan alpha had caught the eyes of the other Crusaders. One of the Crusaders that approached was someone he was familiar with.

 

“Sarah! Ay coorse she’ll be haur! Jist loch auld times!”

 

He smirked gleefully, a plan forming in his mind. Before leaving the Crusaders, the two of them had been part of the same unit and were often partnered up in missions. She was the best. The two of them shared the same zeal in their duties that no one else had.

 

“Dornt fash yerse, mah friend. Ah’ll gie ye th’ kill again!”

 

While the other lycans were distracted by the dazzling light of their commander, Lasairian charged forward and entered the fray. He slipped through the cracks of their ranks, passing through them with ease. Keeping himself low, Lasairian used his right arm to shield his eyes from the brightness. With his baton gripped in his left hand, he dashed to the chief, his body burning with white flames, and struck down on the transformed lycan’s left leg. Lasairian made sure not to overcommit, keeping his feet light, just in case his ambush failed and he needed a quick recovery.

Edited by Liar, 26 November 2014 - 04:03 PM.

[Rainbow Dash]

Blood Alchemist Guild Research Center
 
The lycan Nóra was following didn't seem like much. Muscled under his fur but still shorter and thinner than most lycans. She was beginning to question tailing someone so weak until he looked back briefly. Their eyes met and Nóra felt suddenly so small. Something about his gaze made it seem as if she were looking at not a man but a mountain. He turned away and continued forward. She followed. As they closed in on a large building with it's broken doors open wide she looked at his broad shoulders and realized she felt confident. It wasn't that she was small - it was that he was so vast.
 
 
 
Tully waved off the two younger alchemists. He fancied that he'd seen them around before but didn't bother to learn their names. More effort than he was willing to give. Instead he turned his attention to that upstart arrogant no good rotten "VEGAPUNK!" 
 
"Of course, when trouble goes down, you're at the scene!" Tully spat. "This whole thing was probably your fault in the first place! What was it this time? A failed device to reduce animal aggression? Untested hormone supplements in their drinking supply?"
 
His interrogation of that jumped up attempt at scientific progress was interrupted by a pair of snarling dogs. Contemptously he flicked his wrist. The orb of blood split into two and whipped through the air at incredible speed. Each lycan was splattered over the chest with the blood and suddenly stopped. Their limbs were flung forward by the momentum of their movements comically. They rose up into the air.
 
Tully turned to some of the gathered alchemists. "Well?!" Two of them carrying guns executed the lycans. Tully's blood returned to him and he was ready to continue reaming Vegapunk until something at the door caught his eye.
 
 
 
Fletcher crossed half the room in an instant, swinging his mace into an alchemist. The man died instantly but his shattered corpse took a second to reach the back corner of the room where the roof met the wall. Brick cracked and wooden supports creaked at the blow.
 
He had everyones' attention now. One lone wolf standing in a room full of alchemists. But he did not have the look of mindless rage most lycans had. There was no revenge lust for his fallen brothers. He did not have the fear that any normal being would show surrounded by his enemies. The look in his eyes was one of shining clear confidence. The calm look of sure victory.
 
 
 
OOC

Spoiler

Okay everyone. Fletcher the raid boss has officially joined the party. Judging by how fast he moved and how hard he hit the alchemist, his strength is rated around 50. Be careful not to get hit. He will require cooperation to bring down. Work together or die one by one.
 
The room you're in is typical science lab. Large room with high ceiling. Heavy wooden tables through the room. Benches bolted to the walls. Bunsen burners, microscopes and other devices litter the tables.
 
If you want an Alchemist to do something, PM me. You don't need to command them in your post most of the time; they're smart and will know what they should be doing. You have the following at your disposal
 
Alchemist Tully
Tully can control his blood's movement.
 
Alchemist Jensen
Jensen uses his blood as a catalyst to fire high-velocity bullets from his rifle.
 
Alchemist Matthew
Matthew replaced bullets with blood, essentially giving his a vast ammo supply for his pistol.
 
Alchemist Jameson
Jameson creates a latticework of blood that can stop most attacks.
 
Alchemist Franklin
Franklin's blood can burst into flames.

Edited by Katia Managan, 26 November 2014 - 08:57 PM.

[Rainbow Dash]

The Ballad of Sir Galalot

 

The amazing Sir Galalot's mighty blade came down, shearing through the lycan's boulder-hammer like butter - but stopped half way. The honourable Sir Galalot had heard the cry of a maiden in distress. This changed the situation. The modest Sir Galalot was not too self-absorbed to see the child had not run to him for help; she had run to the lycan. Clearly Sir Galalot was too hasty in his challenge. If this lycan was the maiden's champion then he would go unmolested by the knight.

 

Pulling his sword from the stone, Galalot addressed the girl. "FEAR NOT, YOUNG FAIR MAIDEN! SIR GALALOT AND YOUR BRAVE CHAMPION WILL LAY THEIR LIVES ON THE LINE TO HELP!" he declared in his booming voice. Without hesitation he turned and jumped off the side of the building.

 

The lycan hadn't a chance against the stealthy Sir Galalot. The greatsword of the knight cleaved it in two vertically as he landed in an explosion of holy energy. The lycans were shocked by this sudden appearance and the focused Sir Galalot barreled past them to the leader. One of the biggest lycans he had ever seen had two adults and was dragging them by the hair. Upon seeing his person being assaulted by the fearsome Sir Galalot the lycan casually threw them away. With a battle cry the warrior began his fight with the beast.

 

 

 

Fortunately for Clarisse her parents appeared to still be breathing. She'd finally calmed down enough to follow his instructions and hide but Bajrang still feared for her safety. 

 

He had underestimated the goofy knight. The holy sword had left a paper thin cut through half of the rock-hammer. The human would need help now though; although he was fighting the large lycan evenly the other four were closing in.

 

 

 

OOC

Spoiler

You have been upgraded from Enemy to Stalwart Companion. Help Sir Galalot secure victory.

 

He is about to come under attack from four enemies unless some brave champion can help

 

 

Sir Galalot

Holy Arts: Champion of Light

 

 

The Big Bad Wolf

Overdrive: Bigger Badder Wolf

Edited by Katia Managan, 26 November 2014 - 10:37 PM.

[Mors]

“A king must die so that the country can live.”

- Maximilien de Robespierre

 

Chapter 2 – Kings and Queens

 

The game of chess has a history that spans over 1500 years. The earliest version can be traced back to India during the Gupta Empire as a game called chaturanga, which translates into “four divisions.” These would be represented as infantry, cavalry, elephantry, and chariotry that would eventually evolve into the modern pawn, knight, bishop, and rook, respectively.

 

Chess would spread throughout the world and many variants of the game soon began taking shape. It would be carried to the Far East by Buddhist pilgrims traveling along the Silk Road. Muslim travelers would bring chess to North Africa and the Mediterranean. It would eventually reach Europe through contact with the Byzantine Empire, where the game would be developed extensively by the 15th century.

 

Thus we have the birth of the term “checkmate.” But checkmate itself is more than what it seems. As chess journeyed from the cradle of civilization to the castles of Europe, the meaning of checkmate changed. The original phrase, “Shah Mat”, merely means ‘the King is ambushed,’

 

It is misconception, and perhaps fatal folly, to believe that it ever truly meant ‘the King is dead.’

 

Sven squatted in the fetid darkness, fingering the raw burns on his neck and the fresh scabs on his rough-shaved scalp. Sweating by day and shivering by night, listening to the groans and whimpers and unanswered prayers in a dozen languages from the broken throats of the lycan refuse around him. From his own loudest of all.

 

Upstairs the best wares were kept clean and well fed, lined up on the street in polished thrall-collars where they might draw in the business. In the back of the shop the less strong or skilled or beautiful were chained to rails and beaten until they smiled for a buyer. Down here in the darkness and the filth were kept the old, sick, simple, and crippled, left to squabble over scraps like pigs.

 

Here in the sprawling slave-market of Skaarsgard, everything had its price, and money was not wasted on what would fetch none. A simple sum of costs and profits, shorn of sentiment. Here you could learn what you were truly worth, and Sven learned what he had long suspected: He was close to worthless.

 

At first his mind spilled over with plans and stratagems and fantasies for his revenge. He was plagued by a million things he could have done differently, but not by one he could do now. If he screamed that he was the rightful Chief of the Vanskoren and Warlord of the Mountains, who would believe it? He scarcely believed it himself. And if he found a way to make them believe? Their business was to sell people. They would ransom him, of course. Would Chief Fenrir smile to have his missing friend safely back home? Most likely, since he would be able to finish Sven off for good. A smile calm and even as fresh-fallen snow.

 

So Sven squatted in that unbearable squalor, and found it was amazing what someone could get used to. By the second day he scarcely noticed the stink. By the third he huddled up gratefully to the warmth provided by the fur of his gods-forsaken companions in the chill of the night. By the fourth he was rooting through the filth as eagerly as any of them when they were tossed the slops at feeding time. By the fifth he could hardly remember the faces of those he knew best. Den Mother Diedra could no longer be told from his sister Astrid, his treacherous friend Fenrir and his dead brother melted together, his mate Idunna faded to a ghost.

 

Strange how quickly a king could become an animal. To the humans living in Skaarsgard, lycans were definitely much closer to animals than their own kind. It was not long after sunrise on his seventh day in that manmade hell that Sven was selected out of the pack of slaves for a private inspection.  It was a woman he had never seen before. She was dressed in the formal robes of vampire highborn, long dark hair reaching past her waist, with ruby eyes that gleamed bright with interest as she examined Sven’s naked form from head to toe. “Prettier than I expected,” she murmured, “Why is he in here with the rest?”

 

“Ones that sold him told us t’keep him here M’lady” grunted Barry the slaver who was clearly unaccustomed to talking to a woman like her.

 

“Alright, you may leave us,” she told the Barry. Though he was about to protest, one venomous glare from the woman was enough to make him shrink back upstairs.

 

“So this is the great Warlord of the Mountains. Well, I suppose I should say former Warlord now.” The woman pursed her lips in thought. Though the past week had left Sven far too exhausted for such thoughts, the woman was bewitchingly pretty even for her kind.

 

“You…know who I am? Who are you?” a shocked Sven asked.

 

“I’ve gone by many names in recent years but you may call me Arachne. We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other so it’s fitting that you call me by something I’m more familiar with,” Arachne responded.

 

“A lot more? What do you want from me anyway? I’m nothing. A shadow.”

 

“It’s true that your recent reincarnation has left you in a most pitiable state but…my Master wants you to join us all the same. But since you seem to enjoy it here so much, you are free to stay if you wish. Truth be told I wasn’t much in the mood to train a new pet dog anyways…”

 

“Wait! Okay I get it…I’ll go with you. Take me to your master.”

 

---

 

Card sprinted down the grand corridor of Castle Red. Armor, statuary, portraits, displays of fanned-out swords, all of them flashed past. His worn out boots pounded a hundred yards of staggeringly expensive woven rug, luxuriant silks patterned in the Eastern style. Even the elite guards, trained for over a century to defend the Red Court fortress, could not match his speed as he strode into the throne room unseen and unchallenged. He would prove that old witch Atropos wrong. He would prove he could change the future.

 

“Priscilla! We need to talk!” he called out.

 

A small puddle of blood gathered at the throne and a moment later the vampire queen appeared before him. Her dark scarlet hair sharp face and ruby eyes made her unquestionably beautiful, but the look on her face was far more likely to inspire feelings of fear and respect rather than lust.

 

“Well, well, well. I was wondering who would dare knock on my doorstep. I haven’t seen you since you ran off with my dear sister, and here you are, uncouth as always!” Priscilla, Queen of the Red Court addressed the ragged man in her throne room.

 

“She joined me of her own accord. You know that. Don’t let your grudge against me cloud your judgment!”

 

“So what is it you want then?” Priscilla spat. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a vermin problem at the moment!”

 

“There are other forces at work here Priscilla. Don’t let this lycan attack spark the start of another war. They are just puppets dancing on strings,” Card replied.

 

“Start another war? Foolish boy, the war never ended. You think I don’t know who is actually behind this? You think I care? For years these inferior species have lived in my city and now I finally have a chance to purge them all out. First the mutts and then the apes. If Katarina must die to do so, then so be it. ”

 

“You would sacrifice your own daughter to allow this to happen?” asked an appalled card.

 

“Her and anyone else!” Priscilla shouted back. It was clear now that the queen’s sickness had caused her madness to grow even further. “But first I’ll enjoy watching you die!”

 

The throne room disappeared, replaced by a seemingly endless ocean of crimson and Priscilla sank into a pool of blood. Though her mind had gone, her power was still very much intact. The strength of her domination was to a degree that Card could be trapped here for an eternity without ever escaping the false reality.

 

It was not long before he was completely enveloped under the red. The illusion was so powerful he still could not breathe despite knowing the world was not real. While beneath, he began to feel sharp pains throughout his body as if he was being stabbed by a thousand blades all at once.

 

This was the queen’s ability, blood phantasm, that absolutely crushed the will of all who opposed her. This is what let her reign as ruler of the Red Court, unopposed for centuries. Card could hear Priscilla’s shrill laughter resonating from the crimson tide that dragged him undertow.

 

He had only one option left to him. Before losing himself completely Card pulled out his blade, a longsword that shone bright with holy energy. It had been years since he last used it and the sword now rejected its wielder, searing his skin as he stood to close to it.

 

“Look, even your own body betrays you now! You can barely hold that thing!” taunted Priscilla’s voice from the red sea.

 

“If it doesn’t recognize me now then I’ll just force it to remember!” Card shouted back and he struck the sword into the sanguine water. A blinding white light flashed from the sword and the two fighters had returned once again to the throne room of Castle Red.

 

“H-how? That sword abandoned you when you left years ago!” Priscilla managed to ask despite the pain of the wound in her shoulder.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” said a saddened Card. “You will die here today Priscilla. After I kill you I will rescue Katarina and prevent the dark future.”

 

“You will regret this!” Priscilla shrieked, anger showing past her pain. “I will-“ but she never finished her proclamation as Card struck her down. The Queen of the Red Court had fallen.

 

“It can keep the rest of my regrets company.” Card stared off into the marble flooring as though he saw a ghostly host beyond the stone’s reflection.

[I-Am-X]

Nóra

Location: Blood Alchemist Guild Research Center

 

She was starting to regret tailing the lycan, he was short and thinner than most and gave her the impression it was just another foot soldier. You can call it karma for her randomly choosing someone to follow instead of actually going out to look for herself. But just as she was about to break off, the lycan turned and looked at her. It's like he knew, she was there following him. As there eyes met, she suddenly felt so small, like she was just a small fish in a vast ocean. In short, his gaze was of no foot soldier. It was a strong gaze that certainly seen and experienced some shit. The lycan than turned away and continued forward. Nóra, interest and curiosity re-ignited, followed after him. Closing in on a large building with broken doors opened wide, she glanced at the man she was follow. She felt good and knew that he'll lead her to some action and when he does, she's eager to see him in action.

 

Having caught up to him, she stood just outside the door and peered in. Inside it was that Lycan and surrounding him were 8 of the alchemists. She looked at the man and saw that even up against 8 of them, he still had that look like victory was assured. 8 against 1 and look at him.... Looking around, she looked at the positioning of the alchemists. It seems all their attention is going towards the lycan. Despite having him surrounded, they were looking all serious and shit. He might be incredibly strong, but it's still 8 against 1. He shouldn't mind if I lighten the load for him a little... Grabbing onto her spear, she slips into the room, taking advantage of the situation to get in closer.

 

Taking aim at one of the closest alchemist, she tossed the spear right at his back. Quickly taking out her twin daggers, she moved in to take care of the alchemist.

[Diabolical Rhapsody]

Bajrang Markandey

A street of carnage.

 

Clarisse registered Bajrang's call with remarkable quickness, running quickly under the bed. It seemed that she had saved him rather than the other way round as when his focus came back at the fight at hand he saw the power of the knight. The sword had sliced through his boulder mace as if it was made of butter, surprisingly he had stopped mid swing when he had heard Clarisse's cries. Removing his sword from contact and in turn announce his intention to protect her and dragging Bajrang along even though he needed no telling.

 

Then he marched off towards the edge and jumped down, back to where he had come from. This had given Bajrang time to go check on the little girl. He quickly went over to the girl and wrapped her in his shawl, he was confident that unless they were maddened by bloodlust, lycans won't attack anyone who held a similar scent.

 

"You stay here, pup. Sit tight, I'll go get your mum and dad. Okay!" he said holding out his pinky finger in front of her. She in turn just looked at him with big puppy eyes and coiled her tiny fingers around his. 

 

"I promise." he said more to himself than the child who already believed him. It had been too long since he had fought. His rustiness had nearly cost him an arm but now it was time to make amends. He walked towards the edge and saw the scene below. The knight was fighting a large wolf bravely but the others were closing on slowly, careful to attack him when he is unprepared. The merchant and his wife lay near the south wall, unconscious but safe at the moment.

 

No one will know his real identity he thought. Well, discounting the knight who knew him instinctively. He got on the ledge and with a big sigh jumped down, his mace held over his head. 

 

SMASH!!

 

The lycan on whom he landed was ground to pulp literally. He heaved the big mace on his shoulder before his body hair slowly grew into a jet black mane, his canines grew to protrude out of his maw. He let out a window shattering roar.

 

ROARRRR!!

 

It certainly got the blood flowing, he could feel his muscles invigorated with his true form which was larger than his already massive frame. He could weild his mace single-handedly in his form now. A mighty swing broke another lycan as a twig. He certainly believed that protecting the little twerp was good enough to blow his cover and threaten the term of his stay in Memorium. Of immediate concern though were the two Lycans who have marked him as an enemy now. He made a few empty swings to get used to the weight and then braced himself for impact. Let the fun begin.

[Axe Of Khorne]

"Ghastly evening for a stroll, wouldn't you say me lord?"

 

"Not at all. You seem to not fully comprehend the nocturnal complexion of our dear Memorium, Mister Golly"

 

Memorium was a beautiful place. In the day, the sun would cast a gentle gaze upon the city below. Highlighting each stone, adding a majestic depth to the rivers that run through it. It was as if a painter were just adding the finishing touches to a splendid masterpiece, and anyone could have the privilege of gazing upon it. One would merely just have to stop upon one of the bridges that lead to the center of Memorium, look back at the town they just traveled from, and watch Memorium live. It's just a shame that not many people took just a few minutes and look back on their surroundings, rather than simply plow through them towards some dismal destination. 

 

"For your education, take a look at this"

 

But at night, the city would change into something as if written from a novel. Tonight was the same. It was dark, but never pitch black. It was cool, but remained transparent to the touch. The highlights and vivid bright colours that captured the eyes of its onlookers disappeared, but were replaced with a different visual charm. Silvers and violets were sprinkled across the very landscape, contrasting light and darkness. Blades of grass, flowers, trees, nature had calmed down after drinking in all the sunlight from the previous morning, and were now content. In this state, you could witness a whole new spectacle. A calm, cool spectacle that could relax the soul as you stumble through the darkness. Memorium had stepped out of her fair white gown, and had opted for a low cut, black dress. A gorgeous sight to see, but stands as a warning to those that would stumble into the darkened corners of this fair city. This city, the home of the Vampires.

 

And for the so-called abomination that lives among them in their high society. They called it a beast, an abomination, a Lycan! Known throughout the Court as Sir Logan Blackmane.

 

"It is quite a sight, isn't it? See how this rose remains at ease?"

 

Logan crouched down, gently cupping the flower's head up with a finger as if inspecting stock from the market. The rose was like a beetroot purple, stalk and leaf a green-like turquoise in the twilight.

 

"In the day, it would stand to attention. A soldier awaiting instruction. But in this light, look at it now. Does it not seem serene to you? If you breathe deeply enough, you can even sense it has a different scent to it as well"

 

The grizzled gentleman allowed a smile as he took in the scent. The whiskers on his mustache twitched. The smell wasn't soothing.

 

"Rather splendid. I think I might enjoy this stroll a little longer" He lied, Logan didn't want to disturb the situation with unnecessary actions.

 

"Shall I return to the manor and boil the water, Sir?"

 

"That sounds wonderful, Mister Golly. Milk and Three Sugars for this evening. I could go with a nice cuppa"

 

He would need it after tonight. Unauthorized introductions can be rather stressful, and it wouldn't be just the one inconvenience he would have to deal with this evening.

 

*****

 

The courtyard was dull. Filled to the brim with monuments for the vain glories of previous and current Vampire nobles. The stonework wasn't even immaculate; clearly slave work, rather than the careful hand of an artisan. It wouldn't be missed, Logan thought. The air hissed as the darkness spat out his first assailant. Young man, two swords, smelled of arrogance and a need to be superior; clearly a Vampire understudy. Logan took a small stance. His shoulders forward, his knees bent. fists at the ready. Normally he would tower over the monuments from the lower shoulder up, but like this, you couldn't see him. He was standing, but he wasn't making himself obvious to those who would see him over the horizon.

 

The other two were still hidden. He knew where one of them was, but it was the other one that made him crouch.

 

The understudy came at him like a raging force of steel. Wildly swinging, going for the head, he wanted the glorious kill! Logan ducked, and weaved around the assault, keeping himself on the defensive. The gentleman was not afraid of him, but he was working the assassin's overconfidence. The foe thought he was winning, his target couldn't retaliate. The focus was on him, allowing the others to move into a position to aid in the kill. Exactly what Logan intended. He waited for them to make the first move, noting and understanding the capabilities of his attackers. They have made many mistakes, and one more would seem them down for the count!

 

A killing scent lurked behind, another one was preparing for the kill. Logan growled!

 

"You're open"

 

Logan ducked below another slash, and powered his entire body skyward, unleashing a ferocious uppercut right under the chin of his opponent. He stood far enough upwards so only that his hat could be seen over the monument he was currently half-crouching behind. His stance turned sideways, so that he could respond to both this new attacker, and in case the other one wasn't felled with a single blow.

 

"This is not a lady's profession, ma'am. Surrender, or I will not treat you as a gentleman should to a young woman"

 

One's dignity can be tarnished by striking a woman. But she acted like no lady, and Logan knew full well how to deal with skanks like this one.

   

[Rainbow Dash]

Conference Room

 

Luka frowned as he watched the body-horror woman (he was at least partially sure it was a woman) and the Princess dispatch the last few. All that was left was the grey-streaked matron. Just one more and he could relax.

 

Something set him on edge though. A creeping feeling that something wasn't right. With his hawksight he carefully watched the lycan. She was calm; much calmer than she should have been. In fact she almost seemed like she was... counting?

 

Now panicked he looked around. The others had no idea but he knew something was wrong. Doubts were just beginning to plague him when he saw a shadow shift just ever slightly. A shadow on the ceiling. A shadow on the ceiling without anything to cast it. Once he'd noticed it, focused on it, the veil slipped away. Upside down and crouched low against the ceiling was a lycan. Unlike most shapeshifted wolfmen this one wore flexible black clothes. The lycan realized Luka could see him and froze. The two stared at each other for just a moment.

 

The Spider shouted a warning. The Lycan launched itself downwards, landing lightly on the ground. It turned to Marshall and lashed its foot out in a high kick. A second beastman burst out of his veil at Voivoda. It had obviously seen her in action. It ducked to the left to get a better position and attempted to slam it's claws into her side.

 

 

 

Luka was already in action and about to give his allies covering fire when the same feeling of unease struck him. Internally he cursed his luck as he found the Lycan under shadowveil making it's way towards him on the ceiling.

 

 

 

Fiona scowled. The young ones were not too bad but they had more to learn. They'd been caught out before reaching their positions. If they survived there would be some lessons to be beaten into them. But for now the mission was in jeopardy. The den mother made a mighty leap and landed between some foreign rat and a glorified parasite in royal garb. She flicked her claws at at their throats. If you want something done right you have to do it yourself.

 

 

OOC

Spoiler

Teenage Transformed Ninja Lycans and Master Fiona are to be treated like named NPCs. They are most definitely not auto-defeatable.

 

You'd estimate the ninja lycans as having about 10 str/agi/dex. Fiona has 13.

[Rainbow Dash]

Reborn the Monster

 

Lazarus almost sighed. Another had appeared - lycan this time. Perhaps a servant or a mercenary. The state of her weapon bespoke of violence. The smell Lycan blood filled the air. Today was not looking to be a pleasant day. 

 

He was calculating the best way to end this quietly and without unnecessary suffering until he caught it. A slight smell under the blood and viscera. Lazarus closed his eyes and his fists clenched tighter. Not longer in desperation but now in unbridled rage. Their suffering was not a concern any more. No time for calculations; time was of the essence.

 

He sprinted right at the two, casually tearing a wooden plank from a courtyard bench as he approached. When he got close he put on a sudden burst of speed and swung the plank hard sideways at the vampire girl.

 

OOC

Spoiler

Short update. I would have done it earlier but I don't want one group to get too far ahead of the others or updating would become horrifying.

The "plank" is just a typical length of wood that you would expect to make up part of the back support on a park bench

 

Laz is still in his human form

Edited by Katia Managan, 27 November 2014 - 10:48 PM.

[Darkoda]

Lune

Getting your Stab on.

 

Lune didn’t bother reacting to the mutts running amok in the courtyard, mainly because she lacked any real evidence that they were worth considering. After all, if they couldn’t even approach her, they weren’t worth the time to shank, not when she had someone potentially far more entertaining in front of her.

 

And just as she thought it, they were dispatched with ease by her bestest fuzzy friend ever, in her fully fuzzy state where she was like her own personal murder-plush toy! And people wondered why she wouldn’t let her out of sight for too long. “That depends on him really. I’m still trying to work out if he’s some kind of nudist streaker.” And he was a lycan too, that was good to know.

 

And now he was attacking and making his choice right there! The plank came at her, and a mass of darkness shot from her side, ripping said plank to bits and flying at the lycan undeterred, curving into sharp tendrils of stabbiness. “Ah, so you do want to play! By all means, let’s dance naked one!” More darkness bled from her body and clung to her, Lune leaving the few tendrils she had out now as enough for offense for now, but the main mass was very much ready in the event their stabbing powers were needed. Or she got a decent shot at him to run him through; some people were slow on the uptake that her darkness could easily change direction after all.

Edited by Darkoda, 27 November 2014 - 11:28 PM.

[Johnny Paradise]

Isaac Bramhill

Blood Alchemist Research Center

 

The lycan was monstrous. Surrounded and outnumbered, its unclouded eyes expressed but one thing: supreme, unflinching confidence. It already saw the eight of them as bloody pulp on the walls, Isaac thought. It was clear that some of his allies were rapt in the beast's terrifying visage, but Isaac was not.

 

To say Isaac was not worried, was not terrified, was not afraid that one moment of negligence would lead to his own death would be disingenuous. What took his attention was not confidence, but fear--fear of another one showing up. Beads of sweat formed like bullets against his temples, and he scoured the lab, looking for another and praying that there would be none.

 

But there was.

 

A woman armed with a large spear made her way into the room, and maneuvered to the back of the room. Isaac hissed under his breath, "Be ready, there are more."

 

The female lycan lobbed her spear at Jensen, and Isaac's sword began to elongate and enlarge. Grabbing Jensen by the collar, Isaac yanked him out of the spear's trajectory, then diverted its path with his blade, now the size of a greatsword. The lycan moved to engage on the group of alchemists and Isaac moved to intercept her--better her than the other one, he thought.

 

"I'll keep this one away," he said, "the rest of you deal with that thing." Isaac had little idea how the rest of them together could manage, but they would have to do so without him until this interloper was dealt with. Helen assented, tossing Isaac a vial of her blood--he might need it.

 

Isaac's blade retracted back to its normal size as the female lycan closed in, and he thrust the sword forward to meet her charge. As he lunged forward, nine other branching blades sprouted forth from the hilt, each blade extending to stop the lycan in her tracks before she could fully close the distance.

Edited by Johnny Paradise, 28 November 2014 - 02:31 AM.

[Juro]

Kovu

Outer Wall

Kovu's attack met nothing but thin air as the crusader had manage to leap out of harms way. This was something Kovu did not expect; he assumed that his opponent was some sort of muscle bounded fool who yearned for opportunities to show off his strength. Apparently, Kovu couldn't be more wrong. Lt. Gerard was quite agile and was able to think while on his feet.

"Not as disappointing as I expected" Kovu thought as he flashed a smile of sheer excitement.

He was definitely no novice when it came to combat; Lt. Petard was as experienced as one could get. Kovu snickered at the thought of being able to duel against someone who was as talented as he was.

A roaring upward swing soon followed the crusader's skillful dodge, but it wasn't something Kovu couldn't handle. Like the human he had previously decapitated not long ago, the crusader was fast and strong. Unfortunately for him, Kovu was faster and stronger.

He leaped backwards, distancing himself from the crusader, but immediately after he landed, Kovu resumed assault. With his knees bent as his feet touched the ground, he launched himself forward towards Lt. Gerard. Like his previous attack, Kovu swung his shotel with his massive beast-like arms, delivering a powerful horizontal slash from his right. He planned to capitalize off the crusader's attempt to split him in half. Hopefully, Gerard hadn't fully recovered from his recent attack, giving Kovu enough of a window to strike.

Edited by Scio, 28 November 2014 - 05:25 AM.

[ANIMA]

Voivoda

Notre Dame, Conference Room

One less scum to pollute the world, Voivoda thought to herself with satisfaction. Feeling the life leave the lycanshe released his corpse from the grip of her tendril. She looked around to see if there are other lycans, only to be alarmed by Luka's actions. There was that one old lycan, but it seems the young vampire has noticed something else, and Voivoda prepared herself for another sneak attack. She saw the veil disappear from the lycan on the ceiling, and moved her tentacle to grab one of the large, golden chandeliers which stood near the wall of the conference room, intending to use it as a weapon against the beast.

But helping Marshall and others would have to wait, for out of the corner of her eye Voivoda noticed shadows shifting and another mutt revealing itself, attacking her.  With the reflex honed through centuries of battling, especially their kind, she raised her walking cane, already readied in the expectation of an attack, and strengthened her arms. As she was blocking the lycan's attack, her tentacle would thrust the chandelier it still held like a spear at her assailant.  


OOC

Spoiler

Shifted 2 points from Endurance to Strength.

Strength – 10
Agility – 8
Endurance – 6
Dexterity – 8
Willpower – 8 

[Officer Judy Hopps]

Laika - On the Hunt

Twirling her dagger in her fingertips, the Lycan watched the distant fellow canine-blooded fiend with little more than apathy. Suspicion never left her mind once, not only was the blood of werewolves mingling in the air, but the scent of deceased human as well. Likely the two crumpled and maimed forms next to him; was he an escaped prisoner? Why did his skin still smell as if he were freshly burnt?

Laika's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Could he be what this Lycan Raid was after? Doubtful, really. Experience with her kin had revealed a more bestial and primal nature. Reliant on the tactics and nature often of wolves or pack hunters in general, they had displayed very little in civility, and essentially just animalistic savagery. Shaking her head and casting aside her paranoia and its tendency to race onto the worst scenario, her claws flexed briefly as she watched him take a plank of wood and charge the two.

Unamused, Laika only offered a mild quip.

"Now, let's try to keep him alive, yes? Maybe he's just disoriented from being sedated by humans."

Sheathing her weapon, Laika watched on as he surged across the courtyard towards the two. Calculating carefully as she watched him, the size and shape of his muscles, his overall agility and speed, and particularly how he suddenly increased it moments before attempting to strike her mistress. With a sharpened crack, the wood shattered against the blackened veil of Lune's tendrils, sending splinters flying as a slight snarl curled up on Laika's lips. Surging herself into action, the powerful Guardian leapt forward into the fray, flanking to the side of the Lycan that wasn't holding a shattered piece of wood as a weapon.

With a deft snap, the bow came drawn, and an arrow notched to it. In the blink of an eye, her practiced hands drew the barbed arrow back to her ear and loosed it from her grasp; sending the sharpened point towards her opponent's ribcage. Naturally, her intention was to incapacitate the man as such an arrow would have a prolonged sense of fatality, puncturing only the male's lung and rendering him incapable to fight much further.

Then, he could be subdued for questioning by the Vampiric Court; and probably executed not much longer.

[Wandering Rogue]

Luka Montel

Location – Notre Dame, Conference Room

 

A shining moment where the lives of everyone were within Luka's hands as they asked to be saved and he looked down and shouted "LYCAN NINJAS!"  Damn.   What a hero he was.  Luka had single-handedly saved the entire conference from assassination and was the big hero he always was meant to be.  Now that everyone below knew what was coming they'd kill the Lycan's while Luka fired arrows from above well out of danger and would meet the Queen without so much as a scratch on his face and she'd compliment on how heroic.  He'd of course play it humble and say it was everyone else who did all the work while not believing a word of it.  She'd tell him that was nonsense and give him lots of money and no responsibilities and Luka would live happily ever after.  Or he would have if another Lycan didn't show up on ceiling with a look that screamed he was waiting to run towards him like an asshole.

 

Don't you fucking ruin my happy ending!

 

Knocking an arrow he acted as if he was aiming towards the elderly Lycan while making the Lycan in waiting hear a scuffing sound directly behind him, or at least he tried to using his domination skill.  Not knowing whether that worked or not he aimed his shot towards him and fired while running to the right along the wall with a slight downward angle.  Luka kept on a steady stream of shots as he went while pausing his movement with each shot to let him fire it off more accurately.  He wasn't near strong enough to keep his balance while firing on the wall at a run. 

Edited by Wandering Rogue, 05 December 2014 - 02:09 AM.

[Jod]

“VEGAPUNK!”  it was that cursed nickname again. Dr.Vega scowled, it was a magnificent scowl, one meticulously developed for the one responsible for his nickname. The stupid name had stuck with since his apprentice years. The damn thing had damn near become an adjective.The man responsible , Tully had been a constant pain in his arse from the moment Vega joined the guild. Always nagging him about rules, regulations and all kinds of other nonsense.

 

Tully of course continued rant, as was his usual M.O. ‘blah blah blah bla bla blabbity blah’ he said. It was a good thing that Dr.Vega’s ears had very good selective hearing. Unfortunately, the doctor was very good at lip reading so the point was absolutely moot. Tully didn’t really help his mood very much. “THE.NAMES. STEAMFUNK!What do you mean my fault! You Imbecile! THAT WAS A PERFECTLY SOUND EXPERIMENT! I was doing the prepubescents of the world a favor! I could have cured puberty if you hadn’t meddled!  !AND WHERE THE HELL IS DE MORGAN!”

 

He would have continued his counter rant, however there was yet another explosion. An alchemist flew right past him as he turned to see what the hell was going. The man splattered against the far wall. “Ewww” it was rather disgusting. He turned back to see the perpetrator walk calmly into the lab. He was a rather fine specimen of the lycan race. However what alarmed him the most was the calm the fellow exuded. Quite unlike the frenzied lycans that were running amok. The doctor inferred the this one was rather old, quite experienced, and from the velocity of the fellow that went flying through the air, very powerful.

 

His body was already shivering, but Dr.Vega wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or fear. He shrugged and met eyes with Tully. Although they both didn’t like each other much, it was rather clear that they couldn't get one with their conversation without getting rid of a certain roadblock. Their was certain amount of understanding between them, one that can only be found with close friends and rivals. They nodded and swung into action. The other alchemists had already began to move out, training and instinct urging them into action. One of their number had already begun engaging a new entrant to the battle.

 

Vega quickly surveyed the surroundings and made sure to kick over one of the tables, it would suffice as cover for now. Then without much ado, he he pulled out a few vials, held between the gaps of his fingers. Then with a few deft movements prepared a concoction, stoppered them, and jumped up. Loading the vials into his crossbow during his ascent he fired them . Firing them through a floating orb of blood , created by Tully.

 

After which it was Tully’s turn, the vials whizzed and flew through the air in a variety of aerial maneuvers. It was quite obvious to Vega that he was simply showing off. The vials then zeroed in on the two wolves, following eclectic paths through the air...

[Vafhudr]

Helen Huxley - Blood Alchemist

 

Helena's mind was racing. She was a smart woman - quick on her feet. Situations like this, she had to admit, was giving her a very pleasant adrenaline rush. It did not beat the thrill of the scientific breakthrough, but it was close. Very close. She grinned a bit too wide considering the the carnage of the room. The lycanthrope clearly meant business. He was a fine specimen. She felt her heart sink at the way he walked into the room. Such speed. Such bodily strength. Truly a marvel of nature. She had to curl her hand into fists to keep them from shaking in excitement.

 

"Alright Helena. Deep breaths. Ooff. Haaa. Ooff."  She reached for her vial. This would be tight. The lycan wouldn't give them a lot of time. She needed time.

 

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get in formation! Jensen your with Jameson - Matthew, get with Franklin. Fire at will! Aim for his legs! Jameson - you make sure he can't reach us."

 

 First she handed a vial of her blood to Isaac. They exchanged a meaningful glance as he went mano-e-mano with the other lycan. She thought he could use something of an edge. She then pulled out her Marker pistol - and shot each of the alchemist. It would have barely registered as a pinch, considering their guild coats, but it also gave her a nice anchor points on each of them as they scattered across half the room. With this speed, it was suicide to bunch up. She joined Steamfunk behind his flipped table, and she pulled out another vial of her blood. A scan of the room had given her a small idea on how to deal with what was clearly not beta male lycan. She pulled out a second vial and flung it with an arm that was the pride of the St. Newton Conclave Baseball Team. It smashed itself on one of the bunsen burner desk on the side of the wall. The blood spread itself wide and far, creating an optimal surface for attraction or repulsion.

 

"Get that lycan to that wall!" she shouted, as he aimed her Marker Gun back at the Lycan, shooting 5 blood pellets, aiming for his chest area and arms, hoping to cover the largest surface as quickly as possible with her blood.  

Edited by Vafhudr, 30 November 2014 - 05:58 PM.

[Unbelievably Majestic]

Sarah Button
Outer Wall

So, Sarah was charging at a lycan. She was ready to separate his head from his neck. Her sword was raised and everything. And then suddenly he was glowing. Glowing bright. Very bright. For a moment she thought he'd been set on fire, now that would have been funny, but she knew fire wouldn't burn so bright. This was just another filthy mongrel being a disgraceful freak of nature. He was just trying to grab the attention of the real people. The humans. Some dogs might run in circles. Some might crap on the couch. This one decided to go all flashy, as if to shout, "Hey look at me! I'm here! Love me!" But this dirty flea-bag would get no love from Sarah. If she'd known his name she would have understood now how he'd gotten it. He was dazzling. But that was nothing a good, hard, hateful squint wouldn't fix! So Sarah squinted with all her fury. Sadly it actually didn't help as much as she'd thought it would.

And so, a few moments went by and, as is want to happen, things went down. Most notably, other people attacked the glowy lycan, who may as well have been a lamp at this point. Sarah only half noticed these attacks. If they started to get in her way she'd fully notice them. But for now they didn't really matter. Other people were doing stuff. That wasn't her business. Her business was chopping this ratty filth-bag down as quick as possible. And so she swung her sword towards where she assumed the lycan's neck would be. With any luck she'd divorce it's head from it's torso. She really hoped that would happen.

[I-Am-X]

Nóra

Blood Alchemist Research Center

 

Unexpectedly, another one of the alchemist turned around, saw the spear and grabbed the other man by his collar and shoved him out of the spears path and diverted the spear with his strange sword. "Tch" So his alchemy involves turning his blood into a sword, eh... Considering how it grew, I'm guessing he can change its shape at will? At that moment, another one of the alchemists tossed him a vial blood. While it might not seem like much at first but considering they can control and use their blood for weapons, she can consider that as another weapon for them to use, a strong one at that. She can't afford to go at this half-assed.

 

As she charged in, a dagger in each hand, Nóra began her transformation.  With her transformation complete as she got closer countless blades started sprouting up from his blade. Skidding at once, in order to stop herself from being skewered, she spun away and backed off to get a better look of the weapon and the location where her spear lies. Taking a deep breath, she looked over at the man and made a quick glance at her spear, which was inbetween her and the alchemist. If she wanted it back, she had to charge in to get it. Though, if she wanted to get it and use it, than she'll have to force him back or distract him long enough to grab it. There's no telling what he's able to do with that blade...

 

After collecting her self, she started with a slow walk before breaking into a run. May seem reckless but she's not exactly a long distance fighter, if she wants to take him down, she needs to get in close. Upon nearing the location of her spear, she tossed one of her daggers at his sword wielding hands shoulder and the other at his left leg, not expecting either to hit, she was merely hoping it would allow her to pick up her spear before he could whip those blade(s) at her. Once she gets a hold of her spear, she'll need to find a way to immobilize that blade by focusing his arm or even his shoulder. Pending she can get in close enough to do something and not get sliced into pieces, of course.

 

Whether she manages to get in and beat him or hold him, she needs him out of the way so the big guy will have an easier fight. She's not doubting him, just wants to make it go a bit smoother.
 

OOC

Spoiler

Nora transformed:

 

Stats (5 is average for a human)

Strength – 15 (+10)

Agility – 10

Endurance – 10

Dexterity – 10

Willpower – 5