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| The Necromancer; [complete] | |
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| Topic Started: Mon Jun 27, 2011 1:55 pm (596 Views) | |
| Kalim | Mon Jun 27, 2011 1:55 pm Post #1 |
 
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The sun over Kellen was quickly setting, casting a bronze haze over the small village, as Kalim Firious set foot inside it's gates. Sentries, nothing more than country soldiers, gave him a quick glance and a nod as he walked past; they knew a traveller when they saw one. The mercenary barely acknowledged their existense, casually waving a hand at them as he passed by. His mind was on other things at the moment, the kind of things that could kill you if you didn't pay attention to them. As much as he would like to say that he was just passing through Kellen, or better yet, that he was there for some rest and relaxation, that was hardly the case, as usual. When did he ever get a chance to sit back, take it easy, and drink something cold and refreshing? Never, of course. The pay these days for a single sellsword was crap. Not only that, but he always ended up with the boring, bodyguard jobs, or specialist missions, like this one. To be honest, he preferred the former. The latter had an irritating habit of almost getting him killed. Balwain Zar...necromancer. Wanted dead for heinous crimes throughout the realm, including human sacrifice in order to power his spells. Kal sighed as his boots continued their monotonous rhythym against the dirt road that carried him through the village. This one isn't going to be easy... It didn't help that he had a severe distrust of mages in general, but especially those of the darker sort. Not fear...distrust. Being able to blow things up with a word was bad enough, but a spell-caster that actually specialized in terror and death...that was going past the boundary. People like that were better off dead themselves, and if he suceeded in his mission, that was exactly what was going to happen to this one. That was a reward in of itself, but the sizable amount of coin he'd be receiving helped to put a spring in his step, only slightly hampered by the knowledge that he was going to have to fight one of those monsters. If he was lucky, though, he'd be able to take care of it quietly. He had been provided a great deal of information. He knew, for example, that the necromancer was in this town, intended to stay here for a few days, and had a great love of the local tavern. He also knew that the man was quite a popular figure in the less reputable buisnesses of the world, so he was sure to have allies that wouldn't take well to his death. He would have to watch his steps closely even after he'd slain the man, if he wanted to live to enjoy his reward. As he came to a stop in front of the Green Gryphon, he paused briefly, waiting for a gaggle of patrons to approach, and with a few quick steps, managed to effortlessly blend in with the crowd. He doubted that his target would know him if he saw him, but Kal was wearing his sword, something that any bodyguards the man had were sure to take notice of. He could have left the weapon elsewhere, but he wasn't willing to put himself in the lion's den without a way of defending himself. In situations like this, his fists just weren't good enough. As he entered the noisy pub, Kal drifted out of his living cover and settled himself into a seat at a table already occupied by two other men while unbuckling the strap the held his weapon's sheath to his back. The longsword fell silently into his hands, and he placed it beneath his chair, under his feet, with none the wiser. Now for some surveillance. He had a rough idea of what the necromancer looked like; the man was middle-aged, with longish black hair that was beginning to grey. The most noticable feature of him, however, was a series of rope-like scars that covered his face, reportedly from a ritual gone bad. That couldn't be too hard to miss...and sure enough, as he scanned the crowd, he saw the criminal, huddled beneath a cloak. Most people wouldn't have thought to look twice at him; he had the appearance of just another traveller, perhaps a little more anti-social than the rest of them. But Kal knew. This was his man. Something seemed off, though. His target was sitting alone...where were...ah, there. Several tables down from the man, a group of soldierly-looking fellows were sitting, and though they were attempting to keep their weapons out of sight, he caught the glint of metal. So long as they were around, he wouldn't be able to get close enough. So much for a silent assassination. If only he could distract them somehow, he might be able to...he glanced at a lantern resting nearby, casting a dim light to fight off the darkness. It was an extreme measure, but so long as no one saw him do it...the two men sitting across from him turned to shout something across the room, and he reached for it...just as he felt metal press against his throat. "Think we didn't know you were coming. wretch?" A voice near his ear chuckled. "We have informants everywhere! We own this stinking country!" "Oh, really? Good. Killing you should fetch me a nice price, then." His feet shifted. "Wha- UGH!" Moving quickly, Kal slammed his foot down on the protuding cross-guard of his sword, and the metal sheath shot up into the air, beside him, and struck the man squarely in the face. He was so surprised by the maneuver that he released his hold on Kal, and in a heartbeat the sellsword spun and threw a right punch that slammed against his opponent's head, causing him to stagger back. Pressing the advantage, he kicked him solidy in the chest. That proved to be just enough, and the thug flew back, crashing into a table. By this time, the rest of the necromancer's bodyguards were on their feet, weapons drawn, and a handful of them approached, while the others surrounded their charge. He could see one of them speaking quickly to his master, doubtless urging him to get the hell out of there. Kal couldn't allow him to escape. He would have to end this quickly. With one smooth motion, he drew his longsword, pointing it straight at the fools. With so little room in this crowded building, he would have to be cautious of his movements. It didn't help much that at this point, the patrons were beginning to realize what was happening, and he could see the rising panic in their eyes. The village of Kellen wasn't used to this sort of thing, apparently. "Come on!" he growled at the new threats, as he shifted sideways, gripping his weapon tight with both hands. |
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| Zaizo | Tue Jun 28, 2011 9:26 am Post #2 |
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“No…” Zaizo muttered to himself, sleepy gaze of brown seeking a sort of rest amongst the sky as he walked down the street of Kellan. The word wasn’t particularly directed towards anything that could be defined as a… “Person” However, the thing he spoke with was still there, still biting at the back of his mind. More of nipping, really, an itching feeling for him to switch his control. However, Zaizo wasn’t particularly going to follow through with such a request any time soon, he was too busy smoking and had just lit yet another tobacco roll when the pulling sensation began. “C’mon Zaizo… Just for a bit, I promise it’ll be quick.” It whispered into his mind, voice dripping with sadistic delight, practically a specter following only a foot behind, whispering words that it found rather tempting. “Swear, you can have the body back soon as I’m done. It’ll only take me a moment to kill him, it’ll be so easy!” “I’ll say it again… No. Do you want me to say it again in a different language?” “No, not particularly.” “Then shut up.” Zaizo said with finality, taking a quick puff from his lit cigarette. He could quite easily hold back the madman’s echoing call in normal situations like this; it wouldn’t be until he was impaired that the psychopath became a problem for control of his body. And every time he won one of these pitifully pathetic arguments, the voice subsided, going off to some dark recess of the mind to pout in its defeat, having not found the satisfaction it so craved from pointless abuse. “Two is One, One is Two… Bull.” Zaizo recited beneath his breath, his gaze drifting to the end of his cigarette, a finger coming to flick the stuck ash from it, letting it be caught by the wind like a sort of black dust, he watch as the breeze carried it off and out of view. It was something he had picked up a while ago… For all he knew, it was from his previous life, whatever that had been. He took the ash on the wind as a sign, a sign of which direction to go next, where life should lead him. Often it seemed to lead him to nowhere in particular, other times into some mess or another that he would rather not be a part of. After the ash vanished, he brought an arm to scratch at his back, wincing a bit, as if the pain of losing his wings were still present… Something he found was never a really good sign. It usually meant he was going to get into yet another mess… Perhaps if he followed the ash, he thought. A simple thought, one that brought him to pivoting about on a heel and going back the way he came. And all of a sudden, the familiar voice began to chime in again. “Oh, so that’s it, huh? You wanna kill it by yourself? Selfish, Greedy Backstabber… I’ve never felt so proud to be stuck in a head with you!” Zoni mused about within their shared mind, believing his psychological counterpart to be heading towards killing whatever it had been that it had seen earlier, however, rather than go and find whatever it was, Zaizo took an early turn, a turn beneath a sign, a sign which was for none other than the Green Gryphon. There was a moment of silence while the madman thought of this action, only coming to one singular conclusion. “You suck.” It said simply before retreating once more to the deep recess of Zaizo’s mind, to pout over the fact he was going to get a drink rather than kill. Yet again, Zoni had been denied, denied the joyful wonder of its sadistic thirst for carnage which popped up about as much as the thirst to ruin their body through consumption of just about everything else. There was very little, as it seemed, that Zoni would not do. Zaizo continued forward, bootsteps against the wooden floor, brown eyes not bothering to so much as drift to see what was setting up. Swords, he noticed. However he had one of his own, swords were merely the sign of some sort of fighter, usually travelers. Wanderers. He made his way to the bar, ordered a drink, gave some coin, and turned about to quickly assess the room, a moment too late it would seem. There were men poorly hiding their swords, they looked somewhat “guardly.” Then there was a darkly cloaked man, and then yet another with a sword who seemed to be watching the guard-types. It was too late to turn away now, too late to leave. Zaizo had ordered his drink, and he wasn’t about to abandon it. Perhaps he could simply go about and ignore what was going to clearly happen. He made his way to a table, sat himself down, and took a quick swig of his drink. And then, of course, it began. As Zaizo was lowering his mug to the table, it began to tilt sharply, the edge slamming against the bottom of his mug, knocking it from his fingers and into the air, spinning about and spilling out onto his head before it fell back to the floor, meanwhile the table missing him entirely. And for a moment, he didn’t even seem to truly be there, stopping for a second, as if in a trance before his brown sleepy gaze drifted to the body which had fallen upon his table to cause this. A swift movement, a silent utterance, and his arm was impacting with full-force upon the person’s stomach, accented with a powerful magical bolt shooting into the body, causing a sputtering of blood from the now unconscious man’s body. Zaizo sat there a moment, fighting back the excited biting of Zoni at his mind. No, the psychopath could not have this moment of combat… Now it was a time for vengeance, not reckless slaughter. Yes… Zaizo felt the need to avenge his lost ale Slowly he rose to his feet, the same hand which had just slammed into the man making its way to the handle of his blade, his body turning slowly to the group of guards-types that were being goaded by the man who had earlier been watching them. It seemed as if he were going to be non-intentionally assisted in this fight by Zaizo. And Zoni… Zoni was fighting as hard as he could to get free, to take control of the body, to join in on the fight. The madman was used to being the one to draw first blood; it was already upset, because it was rare that it ever took backseat to watching fights. And as Zaizo quickly brought the stinging bite of his steel blade through the back of one of the guard-types, it merely fueled the fire which was the unrest of Zoni… Only the beginning in what was sure to be a series of upsets to the psychopath. |
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| Kalim | Tue Jul 5, 2011 1:53 am Post #3 |
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The mercenary's eyes roamed back and forth as his foes approaching, counting them silently in his mind. One, two, three, and a fourth taking up the rear. Each held common swords, and they moved in a way that suggested they knew how to use them. He took a step back whilst maintaining his stance, and bumped into the wall. A string of curses sprang to mind, but he had no time to utter any of them. This was about the worst possible place he could be for the kind of fight that was about to happen. Tables were on either side of him, and he couldn't maneuver without opening himself to an attack. He slanted his sword in front of him, taking a defensive position, but he knew that he couldn't make a stand here. He needed, once again, a distraction. That distraction came from a very unexpected source; a blond, tall man, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, suddenly ran the rear-most guard through with a sword, and the other three's heads turned in unison at their unfortunate comrade's death scream. Kal immediately took advantage of the chance, hurling himself at the table next to him, tucking in his legs and arms as he rolled across the wooden surface. He dropped onto his feet on the other side, and called out to his mysterious ally. "Don't know who you are, but thanks!" The man's hair seemed to be dripping with ale, of all things. How strange. One of the guards, having overcome the surprise at seeing his friend butchered so easily, roared and charged, swing his sword viciously. Kal brought his own sword forward to meet it, but as the two weapons collided, he stepped forward, letting the opposing blade slide harmlessly along the steel, before deflecting it. The guard stepped past him, carried by momentum, and the mercenary sidestepped around him. A solid kick to the back, sending the man staggering, was all he had time to do as another sword swung towards his face. He dropped to his knees and the deadly edge soared harmlessly over his head. Kal curled his left hand into a fist and brought it up hard as he stood, slamming his knuckles into the new opponent's stomach. With a gasp the man doubled over, and Kal grabbed hold of his head and slammed it down. The guard fell to the ground, and he brought his foot back before slamming it into the downed man's head. If the blow wasn't enough to kill him, the fool at least would no longer be a threat. That kind of head trauma didn't go away. His first enemy was back on his feet, approaching cautiously this time. He glanced at the remaining guard to see that he was approaching the other warrior, and returned his attention to the current threat. The fight had brought them to the center of the tavern, which was slightly more open than the rest of the building. Kal frowned, thinking. The man was skilled, and he didn't have time for a swordfight. This had to end now. He looked beside him, and smiled. His hand shot out and snatched up the chair, hefting it up before he hurled it at the approaching swordsman, and immediately rushed after it. The man flinched in surprise, and the object struck his legs, tripping him up. He raised his sword up defensively, and Kal's own blade slammed against it with his full, and considerable, strength. The sheer force of the strike was enough to send the sword flying, and before he could make a move, the mercenary's sword impaled him. There goes that mess. Now, wheres the rest of the scum? He glanced over his shoulder to see a mass of the armed men standing in front of the door...which was currently opening to expel a certain cloaked mage. Dammit! He looked over to see how the other man was handling things. Maybe if he could aquire his help... |
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| Zaizo | Tue Jul 5, 2011 5:18 am Post #4 |
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Letmeoutletmeoutletmeoutletmeout... It repeated, quickly, the speed of the words growing with each millisecond, springing into life as the body of the guard-type slid from their blade, the twitching finishing as the guards stopped, looking back to him. And where the body had stopped twitching, Zaizo was twitching quite a bit, seeming to be in pain as he brought his free hand to clench tightly, the blonde hair trapped between his digits as he fought the growing pain, the growing urge to simply let the madman out… He wasn’t going to let it happen, not yet. An inaudible shout passed his lips as his hand slid from his face, dispersing the pain, making the guard-types jump just a bit before stopping to think. It was something so trivial, ale spilt on his very person, but he wasn’t going to let it slide, he wasn’t going to let Zoni take all the killing. Not now. He needed to take matters into his own hand when he wanted some people dead, no matter the reason, not just rely on some mad alter-personality who wouldn’t shut up to take over whenever he had to swat a fly. He knew it wasn’t even about the ale, but it didn’t change what was going to happen. He spent too much time looking down to the corpse of the guard-type he simply had impaled, his eyes glowed red for just a moment, yet Zoni wasn’t any closer to his freedom. The third guard-type of their group took the advantage that he had, bringing up a blade to come and strike the half-dragon down where he stood. Right… Something he tried to forget about… He was partly a dragon… He was partly an angel… No matter if he tried to avoid whatever he might have been before… Zaizo took a deep breath… And within a moment, a couple of quick movements, the second guard was dead and gutted, his body lying on the floor. In taking the advantage, the guard-type lost any chance of blocking the battle-mages attack, and in turn paid the ultimate price, the loss of his own life. The blonde raised his head to see what happened of the other man, of the two which broke off to go and fight with him. And it didn’t seem as if he missed much. The two seemed still alive, though greatly injured. It seemed that this traveler who had gotten himself into trouble held some sympathy, allowing for one to live. More than the other two would show in the way of mercy. The other fighter’s attention seemed taken by something, and following the sightline, Zaizo saw, what else? But more miserable guard-types, just waiting for what was coming, and what was coming struck Zaizo again. LET! ME! FREE! It shouted, echoing within his mind, a strand of hair going white upon his blonde head, his disinterested look shattering into a psychotic smile… No… It wasn’t his anymore… It was Zoni’s. The madman free… The red eyes grew wide, Zaizo only had so much control over the psychopath, and was left exhausted within their mind, unable to move, feeling as if he was bound as he simply had to watch the other half to the body let free, charging quickly, recklessly at the guard, the blade it held was light between its fingers, the free hand shooting up, and a shout of an incantation before an arcane missile slammed into the face of one of the guards of the hooded man, dropping him dead to the arms of another, who soon found himself impaled through the abdomen along with his already dead companion. Madness was released, gods help the guards. |
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| Kalim | Tue Jul 5, 2011 9:17 pm Post #5 |
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He needn't have worried, Kal realized as he saw the other guard dead at the man's feet. But something seemed strange about the person, and as he glanced at the guards, the plain, almost vague expression on his face changed into what he could only describe as the look a child would have with a new toy. The stranger rushed at the human barrier the guards had erected and the mercenary caught the flash of magic, making him tense even as he saw another guard fall to the man's blade. It seemed that he had fell in with yet another magic-user. Well, so long as the fellow was on his side, and not the opposing one. Using the opportunity so conveniently provided by the mage's reckless charge, Kal's feet carried him quickly forward, and his sword was a blur as he swung it at one of the men's face. Another blade was raised to block it, but the angle was awkward and his opponent had to step back. Kal's already scowling face obtained an even fouler expression. "I don't have time for this!" he shouted, and with a single, solid boot to the place no man want's to be kicked, the fool was on the ground, groveling. Kal would have been happy to just leave him there, but he insisted on holding on to his sword, and so with a downward slash another life was ended. The rest of the guards were falling back, pushing through the door. Sword in hand, he rushed after them, cloak flapping behind him as his boots thudded against the wooden floor, now slippery with blood. Not even bothering to open it the conventional way, the sellsword slammed his shoulder against the wooden frame of the tavern's door and crashed out into the dark street. During his time inside, the sun had disappeared, and he now looked around at a village cloaked in darkness. Where were they? He looked left, he looked right, he looked straight ahead. There! The guards were retreating down the street, doubtless following their beloved leader. It was time for some mage killing. He charged down the street, being more careless than was advisable in his mad pursuit, and as a result, he didn't see the guard positioned on the roof of a small house along the main road. Nor did he hear the twang as an arrow left it's string. As a matter of fact, he didn't realize he was being shot at until the arrowhead tugged at his cloak, and when he looked back to see what had grabbed him, he blinked, surprised at the sight of the projectile sticking through the fabric. Then it all clicked, and muttering a curse, he leapt for the nearest house, rolling into cover and out of sight of the archer. Tricky wretches! If he had to waste time dodging arrows, he would never reach them in time! |
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| Zaizo | Tue Jul 5, 2011 9:46 pm Post #6 |
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Fear was an emotion void from Zoni’s… Existence… It rushed the guards without a second thought, it killed without the slightest tinge of remorse, it simply did as it favored… It struck, it lashed, it cut, it took, it moved, it killed, it slaughtered… A question as to if it were even real, or merely a tool which sat itself within a forgotten mind, something which just waited for its time to abuse whatever it could. To stop, for it, was to only mean death, any less and it would not stop fr even a heartbeat, unlike Zaizo. Zaizo took a modicum of caution, he would think of a move, not blindly charge in to whatever challenge might lie in the way. He wanted to live, he wanted to make out his life, no matter what his supposed birthparents said he might have been before he became… before Zoni was… And now, once more, a display of carnage, the source, the reason, but a mystery. Zoni cut through the flesh of the guardsmen, the steel of their blades meeting with his and even cutting into his flesh all of a half-inch before he would turn and drive the point of the sword deep through their skulls, skewering their mind and each other, something which did not take more than a moment to begin throwing them through the window nearby as the other man made his way through the door. The madman worked his way out of the building through the window, looking down for all of a moment to see the corpses he stood up. Then it began as a chuckle, raising upwards as his head tilted back, red eyes glowing in the darkness of the new night, and his madness-filled orbs catching sight of a person mounted to the top of a roof, a bow in one hand, an arrow in the other. Whereas the other man had almost been hit by the arrow, the one intended for Zoni did not even knock against the wood of the bow before the wielder fell from the roof, dead, a magical bolt slamming into his body, causing a rib to splinter and break, shoving a shard into the heart of the victim only to be followed with the force of the corpse hitting the ground to assure of its demise. Zoni was without remorse, without fear, without care. He caught sight of the guards making their retreat and rushed forward, a psychotic grin upon his face as he charged ahead, a stripe of gray having gone down his hair where the blood wasn’t already covering. Of all things, the man who had begun all of this mess was fortunate, lucky to have a madman on his side, a creature that lived for death that would rather kill all of those who chose to wear uniform expressions, uniform swords, rather than searching out what might have been a more difficult kill. Zoni wanted to kill as much as it could, at the risk of its own life, it would never run… It would only kill until it was in turn. |
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| Kalim | Thu Jul 7, 2011 7:40 pm Post #7 |
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The man was insane, Kal decided, seeing that same insane smile on his face as he rushed past Kal after effortlessly slaying the archer. He WAS a mage, the mercenary realized after seeing the spell that had struck the bodyguard dead. Why the stranger was assisting him was unknown. He must have some kind of grudge against the necromancer. He would have to be cautious. The last thing he needed was to get in the middle of a fight between magic-wielding enemies. With the route safe, Kal ran out from behind the building, in hot pursuit of the stranger. His sheath slapped against his back, and his breath was short as he exerted scrap of energy he had in this mad dash. As he caught up to the mad mage, however, an insane and troubling sight met his eyes. The guards were there before them, but breath no longer stirred their bodies. Instead, they were scattered about before them, limp, fresh blood flowing from gaping wounds. "What the hell happened?" The sight was decidedly eerie, and he backed away from the bodies, looking around the village in search of a flapping cloak. The necromancer had to be around here somewhere. A scream reached his ears, and he turned sharply in the direction of the noise. He saw a guard, eyes already clouded in death, fall to the ground. Behind the corpse, there he stood. His face was within the cloak's hood, but Kal could here his deep voice clearly. "So, you've finally came." He chuckled, a chilling sound. "I knew that eventually, someone would take issue with my...buisness practice. But to think, all they can send at me is you two!" A sigh escaped his lips. "I had planned for this, but the creature I have prepared would be wasted on the likes of you. My guards will take of you." He smiled down at the body laying at his feet. "Yet, indeed. They will serve me in death far better to me than in life. It's always like that, you know. The essence of death...," the necromancer breathed in, like he was smelling flowers, "It is so much more powerful than life." He turned, black cloak sweeping around him, and began to fade into the darkness of the alley. "You talk too much," Kal growled, hefting his sword and charging after the retreated man. At that moment, something grabbed his ankle, and he fell, slamming into the hard earth. He looked back to see what had tripped him, and froze. The guard was rising back up, but his eyes still lacked life. Kal had heard of zombies before - a necromancer's trademark abomination - but from what he had been told, they were no real threat so long as you kept your head in combat with them. With that in mind, he stood and stepped forward, swinging his sword forward at his target's shoulder, intending to cleave the thing in half. He knew that the creations should be slow, and didn't worry much about it evading the strike. Therefore, he was extremely surprised when it whipped back quickly, the sword sailing through the air. That speed wasn't normal! As the zombie snarled and threw a punch at him, he realized that these were no normal undead. One of those hits connected, a fist to the stomach, and he bent over, gasping for breath. The man must have strengthened them somehow with magic! He recovered from the blow and swung his sword at the zombie's arm, but all he managed to do was remove a finger. Behind it, he could see the other deceased guards rising. This was going to be one hell of a fight. |
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| Zaizo | Fri Jul 8, 2011 8:34 pm Post #8 |
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Each footfall upon the dirt-path ground was agonizing, each second knowing that there were more willing to fight, more that could so easily die, that hadn’t even heard of battle-mages before, and by the time they would finally fight one, they would drop dead to his blade, to his magic, to their power. The magical force had it repercussions for each time they used it, each time that he slammed a bolt point-blank into somebody’s face, every missile launched from the palm of his hand, to slam into the body of an enemy, sometimes even causing death upon impact. And still for Zoni, each second without doing something was agonizing, he needed to be active, or else there was no reason for its freedom. And then, something not uncommon for the madman began to show itself… Rage. A feeling that began to overtake as he slid to a stop, dirt being thrown into the air, forming into a cloud that was quickly carried away by the wind as his glowing red eyes began to take in the sight before them. No words from Zaizo, he needed to speak none, he didn’t care about the slain guard-types before them, but Zoni… The psychotic creature’s fist clenched tightly about the handle to its blade, shaking furiously. The kills had been stolen from him; the idiots were killed by something else, by someone… Sharply the madman’s eyes lifted to see the darkly cloaked figure, not even caring that the other man was there, the person wasn’t a threat, the person wasn’t the one who killed all these people… It was clearly the hooded figure before them. Words came from beneath the hood, but they fell upon nothing but a growing sound within Zoni’s own mind, the madman twitching with an inhuman ferocity, a low and slight chuckle escaping from his lips, his eyes as wide open as they could possibly be as the tiny bit of anything which could be considered sanity was cracking under the force of this situation. To comprehend that something else could cause so much death before it could, and so much pain, the concept was unrealistic to it. Zoni wouldn’t even wait for the necromancer the shut up, quickly charging; not even realizing it was turning its back to him. All that Zoni saw was a black blob that it truly wanted to stain red, or green, or blue or whatever the hell the necromancer’s blood was colored, it didn’t care it wanted; no… it needed to shed the blood of the one that stole its killing. However, the world shifted, the ground came into clear sight as Zoni fell face-first towards the ground, something gripping at his legs, his red eyes looked back in rage, a hand shooting out to grasp the face of the thing that had stopped him as the incantation was shouted, and the undead’s head practically exploding from the force. It took a moment for Zoni to even realize what had just happened as it slowly stood, remnants of the corpse’s head between its fingers, part of the skull still holding to the rest of the body as it was dragged upwards. Slowly the gaze of the madman lifted to the sight, the dead guards rising from where they had been left. A moment passed… And Zoni began a truly insane laugh, looking towards the sky as it held the body in its fingers. This was actually better than he had thought before, the cloaked figure had risen the dead to be better challenges! Better for fighting, better sense of self from putting an end to their movement, forget their lives! The madman dropped the body from his hand, reaching down to lift his felled blade, a surprisingly slow movement as he coaxed one of the undead to come for him, a red eye glaring over a shoulder which hid a maddened smile, his blade sweeping through the air and severing the top half of the zombie from the legs, dropping it to the ground to be crushed beneath his boot repeatedly until it finally stopped twitching… Of course, there were plenty more to destroy. Zoni picked a group and rushed forward like the foolish psychopath he was, slinging his sword and his magics wildly to bring down as many as he could in as little time as he could manage. It was better than his last birthday! |
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| Kalim | Sat Jul 9, 2011 2:11 am Post #9 |
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After the third dodged attack, Kal finally gave up and slammed his shoulder against the zombie's chest, hardly budging the thing, but he had at least gotten close enough to stab his sword through the thing's head, and it finally fell. The mercenary glared at it. It had taken all that effort to just bring one down, and there were plenty more. After catching his breath, he gripped his sword and moved on. Whereas the madman rushed insanely into the fray, Kal took a far more cautious approach, slowly stepping towards the mass of undead. At least they couldn't use their weapons, he couldn't help but thinking. If it wasn't for their superior strength, he would love to go hand-to-hand with them, but he needed a blade to truly injure them, since they were essentially immune to injury anywhere but the head. Or so he had been told. He'd never fought these fiends before. Though the zombies were fast, they were also aggressive, which he quickly learned he could use to his advantage. As one rushed him, he was able to cut it's legs out from beneath it, and once it was writhing on the ground, it was a simple task to spear it through the brain. His sword moved faster than it ever had, disarming (literally) and beheading left and right. Of course, the battle wasn't completely one sided. As he was busy trying to hit a particularly evasive corpse, another one hit him from the side, and he fell to the ground with the thing on top of him. He lost his sword when it struck, and he found himself wrestling with a super-powered zombie that wanted him for dinner. After briefly struggling with the thing, he knew that he couldn't overpower it, but it's grip on him was so strong that there would be no escaping. He rolled sideways, and it rolled with him, until he saw his longsword laying flat against the ground beside him. He released his right hand from where it had been holding the head back, and gripping the sword in a reverse position, he struck the pommel of the blade once, twice, three times against the skull with as much force as he could muster before it finally released him, the blunt force enough to shatter it's skull. Just to make sure, he chopped off it's head as it lay there. He rose to his feet, gasping for breath, and hoping that the other man was faring better than him. And judging from several bodies that he knew he wasn't responsible for felling, it seemed that he was. Enough of this. I'll lose him if I don't hurry. "This way!" he shouted back into the darkness. The mage's assistance made him uncomfortable, but it was welcome nevertheless. A number of the remaining zombies turned his way at the sound of his voice and began stalking after him, which was a good thing, actually. Leaving these abominations here to reap havoc on the villagers would not be good. As long as they were following him, he would have to worry about that...but he would have to worry about something trying to chew on his shoulder. "Come on, then, wretches," he growled. "I'll take you for a walk!" He turned and ran down the alley that the necromancer had dissapeared into. |
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| Zaizo | Sat Jul 9, 2011 3:56 pm Post #10 |
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Zoni didn’t worry about such a thing as hitting the creatures he fought. Constantly he left their body open to attack, constantly turning about to meet an undead with either a powerful arcane blast or a slash of his blade. The corpses swarmed about, cutting at his flesh, but he did not seem to notice, he did not care enough to notice, he took delight in destroying each of these beings, making sure that they could no longer move, no longer make a sound or fight back, making sure they were defeated to such a point that they would no longer be a bother. This delight is what often overshadowed any pain he might have felt, blocking out any since of agony. He delighted in slaughter, even of dead things, especially of dead things. Dead things were tough, they needed a certain trick, and for these to be free of the affects of rigor, it made them quick, it made them into a new breed of challenge for him to strike against, to fell each corpse for a final time by severing their head or the rest of their body parts. They might have been aggressive, but even in death the swarm was no true match for Zoni’s insanity. Within their mind, unfortunately shared, Zaizo merely watched, a cigarette of imagination put between his lips to sate his addiction as he watched from the shadows, the recesses of his mind, leaning upon a door which remained cracked, one marked clearly that it should not be entered and covered in chains, where the past life lied, and where he would keep it for all eternity. It was a thing not even Zoni would attempt to go against when opening it. Void of fear was not entirely accurate for the psychopath, it liked to exist, it enjoyed the sensations of life, partaking in everything it could. All it took from Zaizo was a mention that such euphoria would be forever gone if the door were to be open, if the past was brought to remembrance, if he learned how he lost his wings, his memory, whatever life he had before. So such a thing kept Zaizo himself from daring to even take a peek, already left with the seeping crack at the bottom of the door, a crack which allowed pain to seep through whenever he had control, a reminder he still lived despite his attitude. A pain which would ache upon his back where two mighty wings once protruded, even while he was safe inside of his mind. Zoni stopped a moment, hesitating, feeling Zaizo’s distress, quickly becoming annoyed by it as he fell to the ground at the strike of a dead man, a dead man whose head exploded not more than a moment later, quickly succeeded by a scream of rage as several undead were separated from their legs in a furious swipe of a longsword, dropping them to the ground, though still many remained a nuisance. Revealed from the curtain of death was Zoni, covered in marks from the stupid move, bloodied, his hair half-taken by silver, a rageful expression painted upon his face as he smashed the head of the zombies who had wounded him in such away repeatedly into the ground, turning them into a sort of red goop, stopping only for a moment to pant with exhaustion. Killing undead was tiring, but it was still fun as hell! The madman looked up as the other man had called out, catching the attention of the undead, taking them from Zoni. Now a majority of the dead that were left were chasing after him and towards an alley. “Hey, you rotting bastards!” Zoni shouted out, chasing after the horde of corpses, slashing furiously at the back of them with glee, getting clear chances to sever a multitude of distracted heads as he followed the man leading the swarm in chase of the hooded necromancer. |
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| Kalim | Sat Jul 9, 2011 8:22 pm Post #11 |
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He charged down the alley and out into another street, panting. He heard a groan behind him, and stabbed his sword backwards without even bothering to see what he had stabbed, but judging from the thump against the ground, whatever it was was now dead. "Where are you!?" he shouted out into the night. Right, like that was going to get him anywhere. The necromancer was playing with them. The routes he was taking didn't lead towards the village gates - which meant that the blasted mage was leading them by the nose, using his little tricks to create a demented game that the mercenary wanted no part in. But he would have to play, if he wanted a chance to spit on that wretch's corpse. "If I was a mage of death and destruction, where would I hide?" he muttered to himself. Unfortunately, since he had no such tendencies, he couldn't put himself in his target's boots, and therefore the line of thinking did him no good. He stepped out into the open street, peering around. Kellen was quite, it's residents asleep. They were oblivious to the horror taking place that night. "A necromancer has to be economical, you know." Kal whirled, but though he heard the voice behind him, the alley was empty. It was then that he looked up, and saw the black-cloaked fiend standing on top of the adjacent building, a smile on his pale face. "But I suppose a mercenary like you would know all about being stingy, eh? Bodies are hard to come by. They have to be dug up, and to get a sizable amount takes hours. So, I might as well just recycle them. Hmmm?" "What're you...?" "Behold!" What he was supposed to be "beholding" wasn't too clear at first, but then Kal saw it, and he felt like vomiting right then and there. A severed leg floated by, supported by magic, followed by an arm, and a whole torso. The mercenary recognized them as pieces of the guards. The necromancer had first used them for zombies, and now he was using them again, but to make what, he wasn't sure. The body parts were pushing together, fusing to one another, to make one solid chunk of bloody flesh. He could see a shape forming; first its chest, which grew legs and arms. A head appeared, with sunken eyes that seemed to scream in pain. Powerful muscles rippled in it's body, and when the flesh golem was finally complete, it roared with a bestial rage. Kal stepped back, disgust on his face even as he held his sword before him. "Have fun!" the necromancer shouted from above. He didn't look up; the monstrosity before him held all of his attention. The thing stared at Kal like a cat preparing to pounce, and the look was so unnerving that he acted without thinking. The longsword arced through the air, slicing into the golem's leg. It snarled, yanking the limb back, and the mercenary, holding on to his weapon for dead life, was hurled flying through the air. He hit the ground and rolled several feet before stopping in a cloud of dirt. Groaning, he stood to his feet, but after a quick check determined that no bones were broken. The thing was massive, over seven feet. This was one foe he couldn't just ignore, but it wasn't his only concern. The zombies he had run from were now emerging from the alley, and upon seeing their escaped prey, they ran towards him in unison. He did the same, but as they passed by, he twisted, avoiding their outstretched hands, and as he came near the golem, he jumped and landed against it's back, his sword stabbing deep into the borrowed flesh. The beast roared and jerked, trying to fling him off, but the blade was buried, and he used it as a handhold even as the world shook around him. |
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| Zaizo | Sat Jul 9, 2011 9:13 pm Post #12 |
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The zombies ran, and so did Zoni, slicing through their necks with ease, only a handful, perhaps a dozen or so, managed to escape the fate of the others. Chasing after the other man left them wide open for assault from behind, the madman’s blade piercing deep through their bodies, arcing left and right, cutting them into pieces, watching as they fell to the ground, only to then be trampled by him or the others, very few had the mind enough to turn about, to see him head on before meeting their fates for the final time. He was brutal, he was unfair, and he was having a blast. The last zombie that had stayed behind was being a pain, though. Seeming to maybe have held some sort of skill in life, in managed to parry, and dodge… and then take an arcane bolt into the face with enough to send its skull exploding in every direction, which meant splattering the already bloodied body of Zaizo and Zoni, yet the psychopath didn’t seem to particularly care, reveling a bit in the fact that he was coated in a nice layer of blood and gore, even if some of it was his own. Rare was it, as it seemed, for the madman to come across a necromancer, to basically make a bunch of cold bodies move and dance and fall and die for a second time, which only made Zoni think that maybe he should befriend a necromancer, so that then when he kills somebody, that necromancer could resurrect them so that he could kill them for a second time. Well, by that logic, befriending a priest might have the same affect, but a necromancer would be more willing to do it to see somebody die for a second time. Priests were just to uppity about the whole life and death thing. Zoni’s mind snapped from the debate, looking to a body lifting from the ground, the legs over the head, both severed from each other… actually, he wasn’t even sure the two pieces went together, he just knew that he saw gore floating through the air… Was he hallucinating, again? He couldn’t remember eating something that would cause this. However, it was an interesting sight to behold, especially as he brought his sword through the floating parts, yet still they floated, onwards and upwards, down towards an alley. He grabbed onto an arm that was floating by, still attached to most of its torso. Gradually the force picked up behind the arm, actually lifting Zoni off of the ground. An interesting feeling as he gazed down towards the dirt below, skipping for a bit before being totally off of the ground and flying down alleyways to some unknown destination. He could only expect good things. And good things it seemed, his red eyes resting upon the sight of a creature forming in an alley, the familiar face of that other person watching it form, and then there were the zombies that had managed to escape his blade earlier, how intriguing! His attention turned back to the forming figure, letting go of the arm as it went to form a head, odd, though he landed on its shoulder, jumping up and reaching the edge of a building, pulling himself up with a slight groan as he set his eyes upon the hooded figure, the one responsible for all of this, the necromancer! He didn’t know whether to kill the man or to thank him, but as the creature let out its roar, his head perked up and into action, looking over the building edge as the other man was knocked back by the beast, that was truly the fight to be in! Quickly, Zoni leapt from the top of the building, driving his sword downwards into the back of the head of the large fleshy thing… And… And… “Well… Crap…” He mused about, the sword assuredly dug into the creature’s head, even as its arm reached about, grasping Zoni tightly and slinging him down an alley to skid painfully across the dirt until stopping on his face, more bloodied and dirtied than before! Slowly he managed to his feet with a groan, a crack of his back as he turned around, his weapon still lodged in the back of the golem’s head, even Zoni’s mouth slightly ajar at the sight before he began to burst into laughter for a moment, charging back in and tackling a zombie, wrestling from its grasp a sword before beheading it, cutting through two more, and making his way to the front of the flesh golem, bringing the newly acquired blade through the flesh of its knees, shouting out to the man on its back. “Would you mind tossing me my sword? I like it a deal better than this one!" |
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| Kalim | Sat Jul 9, 2011 11:03 pm Post #13 |
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Toss him his sword. Oh, well, sure. Just as soon as he wasn't being hurled around like a piece of paper in a tornado! The term "shaken mercenary syndrome" came to mind. When the monster paused for a brief moment, Kal dislodged his own blade, and used the one embedded in the flesh golem's head as a handhold to lift him up on top of it. Yanking the second sword out, he precariously hung over a seven-foot fall the golem suddenly becoming very still as it realized that it's passenger was moving about. With a shout, he drove both blades down and back, stabbing into it's eyes. The abomination roared and flung itself forward, flipping Kal over it's head, with both hands still holding the swords, which slid out of it's eyes dripping blood and what could only be described as...goo. He slammed against the ground, hard, and this time he thought something was broken. He staggered up, clutching his chest. Conveniently enough, the golem had decided to throw him right next to the mage, and he handed the man his sword. "Fun night, huh?" He asked. "Nice to meet you. You can call me Kal." He had a tone of sarcasm and derision in his voice; this was no time to be making introductions, but if they were going to die, he would at least like to know the name of the person helping him. Then again, considering the man was very probably insane, maybe he was better off not knowing. Ah well. Despite the pain, Kal brought his sword up and lifted the hilt so that the tip of the blade pointed towards their massive foe. He had to stand there for a few seconds to gather his courgae and calm his twitching nerves, but with a shout, he rushed towards the latest piece in this twisted game despite every instinct he possesed screaming at him to stop. As it swung a huge and powerful fist at him, he fell into a roll, and jumped back to his feet next to one of it's legs. He drove his blade into the hunk of deceased flesh, piercing deep before the thickness of it stopped the sword from going any further. He looked at the golem's face for any expression of all, any sign that he had at least dealt some small amount of pain to it. It didn't even flinch. "How in the name of the holy gods do you kill this thing!?" he shouted, retrieving his sword and barely jumping out of the way as a fleshy foot hurtled his way. |
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| Zaizo | Sat Jul 9, 2011 11:36 pm Post #14 |
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Zoni watched with delight, laughing at the sight and moving a few yards back from the flesh golem as he watched the fighter get tossed all about it, driving his swords into its eyes, getting flailed about even more, and then conveniently crashing beside the madman, who was quick to take his sword back in his off hand, looking over its shining metal for a moment, catching gaze of his bright red eyes in the reflection of the steel. “Yeah, f—“ His words were cut short as he became frozen, unmoving and silent, while within the mind of the two, Zaizo had decided enough time had passed. “No…” Came a whisper from the madman’s lips. He wasn’t done yet; he didn’t want to give up control of the body just like that. However, what he often failed to realize was that it was not truly his body, he was just renting space. For him, things were just getting fun, the massive beast, but Zaizo knew better… He took more time to think, he watched carefully the way the creature moved, he had a strategy figured out, and he didn’t want to die, not from the stupidity of Zoni, and definitely not from a rotting corpse! Slowly the blade lowered to his side, the expression dropping from the psychotic smile to a much more sleepy sort of look about him, detached from the world about him but paying so much attention at the same time. Zoni was spent, unable to fight back as Zaizo took over, looking the golem over. “Doesn’t matter.” He said with a huff, reaching into a pocket on his folded-over cloak, pulling out a box and a match, quickly he lit the match and from the box he pulled a roll of tobacco, a cigarette to place between his lips, lighting it and taking a deep breath, a long drag from the cigarette before pocketing the box and sheathing his own blade. It only took a moment for him to turn about and slice the head from a zombie that was coming for him, taking its blade before it even hit the ground. He moved quickly, moving his body behind the leg opposite of Kal, digging one of the two blades as deeply as it would go at the back of the knee, carving the flesh from the leg and the shouting out his incantation, blasting the weapon, forcing it to break under the pressure while simultaneously slicing the rest of the way through the golem’s leg. Another incantation was shouted out from his mouth as he placed his now free hand against the back of the golem’s knee, the smell of his cigarette burning away the smell of rotting flesh before it reached him, with a powerful arcane bolt he blew the leg forward and out from the golem which would cause it to lose balance, falling forward. “Force.” He said, simply, moving back from the body, his gaze shifting upwards and to the roof where the necromancer had been, wondering if the cloaked man was still there, watching from a shadow or some sort, wondering what to do with a trick revealed. |
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| Kalim | Sun Jul 10, 2011 8:15 am Post #15 |
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"Doesn't matter?" the mercenary asked, amazed at the answer he was given. The man walked towards the golem even as he ranted. "We're fighting that, and it doesn't matter? You may not be much attached to life, but I..." He justed watched as the mage skewered and blasted away one of the monstrosity's legs, as casually as if he was going on an afternoon stroll. "Oh." Maybe the guy wasn't as insane as he seemed. At least he had managed to something productive, rather than getting flung around like some kind of plaything. He took a quick step back as the flesh golem fell in front of him, avoiding getting squashed by the hulking mass. Even without the use of one of it's legs, it tried to push itself up with it's arms. Now, Kal realized, was the time to be doing something. The edge of his sword slammed against the golem's neck like a hammer against an anvil, and he immediately hauled the sword back for another swing. Again and again the sword cut into it, hacking away at the thick flesh. His sword seemed to be coated in red paint, but finally, he stood over the decapitated body, breathing hard. The beast was dead. Hopefully it'll stay there. If that bastard 'recycles' it again, I quit. "What's next?" he muttered to himself. At this point, he expected just about anything. So when he heard footsteps from behind, the mercenary whirled, already entering into a fighting stance. What whold it be? A dragon? Killer bats? Man-eating plants, perhaps? Before him, fifteen feet away, stood the cause of all this mayhem. The necromancer still had a smile on his face, and he clapped softly. "Well done, bounty hunters! It seems that you work hard to earn your money. I didn't expect you to overcome my zombies, let alone that poor thing." He nodded to the ginat corpse behind them. "Rejoice! You have one more obstacle to best! But..." the smile slipped from his face, and his eyes glared out from beneath his hood, "you will not survive this time. Quake in fear! Face the wrath of a GREATER DEMON!" He screamed the last few words, and hands shot out from his sleeves, moving in intricate patterns as he uttered words of power, words that, though Kal understood none of them, sounded evil. The necromancer's eyes began glowing red, and the windless night was suddenly assaulted by fierce gusts. The light cast from the moon dimmed, despite the lack of a single cloud in the sky. Ominous moans filled the air, accompanied by the screaming of a thousand damned souls. The orchestra of depth steadily increased in volume, until Kal was forced to clap his hands over his ears to shut out the demented music as he looked on with a foreign feeling: fear. There was an abrupt explosion of sound, a flash of bright light, and a scream, and as the chaos died down, he dared looked up, to see... The necromancer, still standing there, and with a frustrated look on his face. "It seems I made a mistake in the incantation." He sounded apologetic. "If you would just kindly wait there while I try again...?" "Yeah, right," Kal snarled, his legs carrying him towards the mage of death at a quick pace, and once he was within range, he swung his sword at the man's neck, intending to do the same thing to this wretch that he had to the flesh golem. As the sword came within an ince of severing the head, however, it was suddenly deflected by an intense force, enough to almost make him lose his sword. He looked at his target; he held no visible weapon, nothing to parry the attack. More magic was being used, it seemed. "It really is a pity you couldn't play with my newest pet," he said with a sigh. A pale hand was raised, a finger pointing at him. "I suppose I'll have to dirty my hands after all. How unfortunate." He looked back and forth between the two. "Well then, shall we begin?" |
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