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Post by lloyd on Jan 25, 2015 15:47:13 GMT -5
This is pretty nifty. I liked the elbow stunt, that's actually what a real armoured footman would do.
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Post by Adam on Mar 6, 2015 12:59:34 GMT -5
Part Nyne: Since we are finally starting back, I figured I'd continue with this now. And no, I don't know why I made so many people fight one armed.
The battle raged all around. As the smoke dissipated, the melee became more intense. Crump’s shield arm had broken at the moment of impact yet still he used it to bludgeon anything it could reach. His axe he swung with all the strength he could muster, still enough to hack into the side of a soldier. Reginald was riddled with cuts and gashes, blood covering most of body, a mixture of his own and that of the fallen. During the chaos Priscilla had fallen from his shoulder, and he was yet unable to retrieve her. Instead he stood over her slaughtered all who approached. Even after sustaining massive injuries, with both arms now free he could fight with all of his strength and agility. It was a sight to behold. With both hands wielding he massive sword he easily cleaved a soldier in half at the waist. He continued with his momentum to turn a full revolution and bring his greatsword down overhead removing the sword arm of another soldier. Archibald was ever the whirlwind, spinning and slashing in all directions never catching more than a grazing hit. If it wasn’t for the blood flying with each movement it would seem as if he was simply dancing. As it was, each step was made to inflict a wound with his blades. He eluded “sloppy” sword swings and countered with lethal strikes to the neck, underarms or any other gap a blade could fit. But even he had to admit to himself that fatigue was beginning to set in; and then he would be dead. As he managed to break through the wall of soldiers he caught sight of Blank, held high by the scruff of her neck by the commander of the garrison. He knew what was coming next. In blur he sheathed his blades and drew his bow once more. He nocked an arrow and aimed carefully. Blank was nearly insentient. She felt numb from being smashed repeatedly into the hard floor and was currently deaf from the blood rushing in her head. And her vision was blurred by many factor; her fading consciousness, the blood streaming down her face, and the pale rage vainly urging her to struggle free from the commander’s grip. But she still saw the floor rush towards her once more. However this time it seemed as if she were dropped rather than slammed into it. For a moment she thought the commander had already stuck his sword through her and she was too deaden to feel it. But as she gasped for air on the floor her hearing returned and his scream pierced the fog of her mind. Archibald had score a hit. He would have been annoyed that he only hit the commander’s arm and not his head like he aimed for, but he was too furious at the spear sticking in his shoulder too care at the moment. A soldier who felt as if his luck was turning had taken the opportunity to impale the distracted ranger. Archibald heard him coming, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the thrust to his back while still focus on his shot. He let out a pained grunt and quickly pulled himself off the spear, turned, nocked and fired a point blank shot into the soldier’s throat. The “lucky” soldier dropped his spear as he clutched at his neck as he fell to the floor, blood quickly pouring from his mouth. Archibald put his bow away and drew a single blade. His left arm was dead. He barely managed to draw his bow through sheer adrenaline. He returned to the combat still raging. Blank tried to rise from the floor. She managed to achieve a crouch before the commander resumed his assault. She rolled to the side of an overhead swing and then backwards to avoid a follow-up. With a bit of space she stood up and assumed a ready stance. She hadn’t had time to recover her daggers and prepared to fight unarmed. An arrogant snort echoed from the commander’s helm. Even with an injured arm he was still confident this was an easy victory. He charged and swung in a wide arc. Blank jumped back dodging repeated swings and was rapidly backed against the wall. She was finally close enough. She quickly turned and vaulted off it and landed on the commander’s shoulders. She quickly grabbed his helm before he tore her off. She landed with a somersault and stood holding his helmet in her hands. She could now see his livid face. He was darkly tanned with a closely shaven head and beard and had a long ugly scar that bisected his face. He attacked again with a combination of slashes. Blank used the helm as an impromptu targe, deflecting his strikes. As he thrust again, she quickly turned the helm in her hand and caught the blade. He was caught by surprise, and that was all the distraction she needed. Before he could react she quickly slammed her forearm against the flat, knocking his sword from his hand. With the fight on closer to even terms, she went on the offensive. Blank threw his helm at his head and causing him to reel back off balance. She followed through with a tackle and mounted him. She rained down blow after blow upon him, repaying him for the brutality she received. Her strength wasn’t a match for his however. He reached up and grabbed her head in his hand. He then rolled her over as she grasped at his arm. That’s when she felt it, the arrowhead still buried in the commander’s arm. He yelled again as she tore it out of his arm. He reached back to smash her head with a doubled handed blow. But she was faster. She sat up swiftly and drove it into his temple. He froze for a moment. And then he fell forward onto of her. For the third time tonight the air was knocked out of her as she was crushed by the commander’s massive weight dead on top of her. After a brief struggle she rolled him off and sat up. She grabbed his sword and sheathed it in his heart. Just to be sure. She didn’t have time to convalesce however. The guys were still fighting for their lives on the other side of the room. She quickly recovered her daggers and made for the wench.
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Post by nate on Mar 25, 2015 11:06:38 GMT -5
Tough girl! At first I read forehead instead of forearm in, "slammed her forearm against the flat." I was like 'did she just headbutt a sword?' lol
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Post by Adam on Mar 29, 2015 13:32:05 GMT -5
Part 10: This one is really short. Fret not however as the next part is already done and will be posted after we play tonight.
Crump was panting heavily now. This battle’s toll was becoming too great for him to endure any longer. It took all of his energy just to defend himself, nevermind trying to actually score a hit on anything. Archibald, normally untouchable, was bleeding heavily from wounds on his shoulder and legs. With the loss of one of his arms, his capabilities were severely reduced. There was still fifteen soldiers engaging the three of them and the only one still in fighting condition was Reginald, incredibly enough. Whether it was a hidden reserve of strength or sheer adrenaline, he fought on with full fury. From across the room, a voice shouted over the din of battle, “Hey, shitheads!” All turned to find the source, Blank. Encrusted with blood covering sweat and bruises, she leaned against the wall next to the winch. A few feet away lay the commander of the garrison, blood pooling beneath his corpse, his sword stuck in his chest. The soldiers were in a state of shock. Emotions ran the gamut from sorrow to rage to disbelief as all stood still. With the soldiers distracted by their grief, Reginald quickly picked Priscilla up and pushed through the soldiers toward Blank, quickly followed Crump and Archibald. The trio forcing their way past roused the soldiers. A couple of them were about to charge when the others stopped them. Another massed assault would only cause more of them to die. Instead they muttered to each other for a moment, and then moved into a combat formation. The three men reached Blank as the soldiers prepared themselves. “We need a plan,” were the first words out of Crump’s mouth. Blank shook her head as she slowly lifted herself off the wall, “We can’t survive another skirmish, and it looks like they are getting organized,” she nodded toward the soldiers. After a moment of silence Reginald spoke up, “I’ll stay to guard the winch. You three, stay behind me and when you see the chance, make a break for door.” He draped Priscilla over Crump’s shoulder, “See that she makes it out of here.” Crump took and simply nodded. Archibald looked as if he was about to say something, but one glance at Blank’s cold eyes dissuaded him. Once more both parties were formed up and ready. The soldiers marched forward, never breaking form. The group simply waited. When the distance was closed by half, the soldiers launched into a full charge. Before the moment of impact, Blank, Crump and Archibald vanished. It was enough to disrupt the charges full effect. Reginald quickly countered and cut down the two nearest soldiers with a single swing. A spear stuck in to his side while a sword was lodged in his leg. He fought on, cleaving soldiers left and right. However with each swing of his sword, he received two more wounds. Blood was smeared across his entire body when he finally heard from his companions. “Reginald!” A single shout from beyond the gate was all he needed to hear. With a last shred of will, he turned and hack the connecting chain from the winch. The gate immediately slammed shut with Blank, Crump and Archibald on the other side. The last they saw of Reginald, he body was being hacked at by the soldiers, furious that they were now beyond their reach. The group turned and ran down the nearest staircase. An old, now inert, enchanted necklace was all they left behind. The last two floors were empty of any resistance, who organized the defense clear didn’t anticipate anyone surviving this long. Finally they reached the main entrance to the tower. Two dumbfounded guards were all they found here. After all they had been through, the group was in no mood for mercy; two more deaths to add to tonight’s tally. With that, the group burst through the doors and disappeared into the night. Left behind was the smoldering ruin of a once proud tower and dozens of bodies.
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Post by Adam on Apr 5, 2015 14:25:35 GMT -5
Part Last: The Finale. I was thinking of writing an epilogue, let me know if you want to read one.
After running for another half hour, dodging into various shadows and alleyways, the group was at last afforded a desperately needed respite. They tended to their wounds as best they could as they caught their breath. Crump had set Priscilla down, leaning her against the wall. She had not stirred once since losing consciousness. To the uninitiated she seemed to be merely in a deep sleep. But her breathing was far too slow and shallow for that to be the case. As Crump and Blank sat by her, worrying over her condition, Archibald rose to leave. Blank rose to challenge him, “Where are you going?” He slowly flexed his wounded arm, “Home, gonna talk to my client in the morning.” “What about Priscilla?” “What about Priscilla?” his voice was rich with disdain. “She needs help.” “And?” Blank moved toward him, more insistent, “If your client set up this entire operation, he must have been aware of the possible dangers…” He looked at her, “And you think he will fix her? He couldn’t care less about this crew, and even if he did, I don’t.” He turned to leave again. “Archibald!” Blank shouted at him. He simply stood with his back to her, “Go home Blank. You survived tonight. Count yourself lucky.” “Give me his name. I will find him and convince him to help myself.” He turned his head back slightly, “No.” Her frustration boiled over as she launched herself at him. He expected as much and quickly turned, catching her mid-flight. He threw her to the floor and pinned her with one leg on her neck. Crump quickly stood ready to pull the two of them apart. Archibald drew a thin knife and flung it into Crump’s stomach. The 400 pound brute fell against the wall holding the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. With his attention on Crump, Blank managed to kick a leg high enough to score a hit to Archibald’s head. The blow knocked him off balance, allowing her to escape his grasp. She quickly sprung to her feet and drew her daggers, ready for him. Archibald had flipped back following the kick and was standing, his swords drawn as well. He made the first move. He swung both blades down upon her. Blank sidestepped them and jumped back again as he turned the blades mid-air towards her. She spun at him leveling a high kick at his head. He ducked below it and she quickly made a second revolution this time swinging a dagger low. He blocked her strike with one blade and riposted with the other. She swiftly rolled out of the way and returned to her feet. Archibald cracked a smile at her, “You’re pretty good. If I was trying this might even be entertaining.” Blank replied with a cold stare. He shrugged, “Suit yourself,” and resumed his attack. He began swinging his blades at her in a continuous fluid motion. The rapid assault left little time to dodge, let alone counter. Blank struggled to avoid his strokes, constantly shifting her balance. She resolved to end this stalemate. Anticipating his movements, she was finally able to avoid one of his blade swings fast enough to return with a strike on her own. She drove a dagger into Archibald’s arm and broke away. She didn’t escape unscathed however as he hit her with a heavy slash on her back as she turned to move away. She fell to the floor and quickly scrambled away to recover. Archibald pulled the dagger out of his arm and quickly cast it aside, he would not regain the use of his arm this fight. The two stood before each other once again. Archibald brandished a single sword, the other fallen to the floor, discarded by his lifeless arm. Blank, uneasy on her feet, held her lone dagger before her, ready for another engagement. Archibald grinned once again, pain barely concealed, “You really want to die tonight. And I was just starting to think you had some sense about you.” Blank said nothing and charged at him. She slashed at him with her dagger; high, low, various combinations attempting to find their mark. Yet with one arm, Archibald fended off her attacks, his other held slightly behind, balancing his movement. He had adopted a fencer’s stance, feinting and parrying with superb skill. Blank continued her barrage, but was studying his movements, looking for a possible opening. She found one. She swung horizontally, connecting with his blade, and swiftly spun to the right. Her free hand grabbed his wrist as she finished pushing off his sword with her dagger. She continued around and drove it between his ribs. Archibald dropped his sword as he fell to a kneel, spitting blood as he tried to steady himself. Blank asked him again, “Tell me who he is.” Archibald shook his head, “You can’t save her. You should just kill her now and be done with it.” She grabbed him by his collar to look him in the eye, “Why!? Tell me! Why do you hate me!?” He simply stared at her for a moment. A slight smile crept on his mouth, “Because you are beautiful.” His eyes slowly closed as his body went limp. Blank’s grip released as she stood in shock. Archibald was dead.
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Post by lloyd on Apr 5, 2015 17:23:39 GMT -5
Great ending!
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