"Lento!" cried Jamis, skewering his screaming opponent in the gut, his hand sliding along the wooden pole of the man's own spear. "Watch my back!"
The large golden haired man to Jamis' right grunted in acknowledgement and turned to face their rear, looking out for attacks from behind. The battle of Pillipassus was coming to a close, the mercenaries winning a decisive victory against the poorly-trained and poorly-organized Ridians.
As he kicked the dying man in the face, knocking him over to the ground, Jamis began to wonder about the battle. They had been warned that the militia of Ridia would be well-prepared and able for the coming battle - the deciding clash of two rival villages (Ridia and Tappas) - and yet the men they'd faced were nothing but an uncoordinated rabble of stalky villagers weilding weapons they could barely hold above the ground.
A victory's a victory, he told himself, trying to make himself believe it. That's how you were trained to think.
All around him, the signs of an easily one-sided battle lay: burnt wagons, grass slick and red with blood, the fallen corpses of the not-so-fortunate. The smell of death and decay had not yet begun to permeate the air, but already the crows were circling, the sound of battle more than enough to pique their interest. He watched contentedly as familiar figures began to head back towards the Knights' wagons. They were well-constructed, fortified, guarded from flame and sword with steel plating. Those figures would be the other victors; the other Knights. Knights of the burning blade.
His lips pursed in though, Jamis took a step forward, grabbed his sword off the ground where it had fallen, and wiped the bloody remnants of the Ridian militiamen he'd killed onto the grass. Returning it to its sheath, he smiled at Lento.
"Another job well done, eh?"
He saw the big man's lips begin to curl in a smile. But they suddenly stopped.
"Jamis!" he shouted. "Behind you!"
Turning around a moment too late, Jamis saw a flash of wood and steel accompanied by a stabbing pain in his abdomen. His sharp intake of breath worsened the pain and it was all he could do to stop from screaming. He looked down, saw his attacked slump over, finally dead, the spear slipping from his lifeless hand.
Jamis whimpered, the pain unbearable as he felt the tip of the spear rip his flesh, slicing mercilessly at all it could reach. He wrapped his hands around the shaft and tugged, pulling it out of his own side. Within a moment he was on the ground and Lento was over top of him, looking concerned and confused.
"I..." stammered Jamis, the shock beginning to dissipate. "I thought he was dead... I didn't think..."
"Shut up," said the big man with a grimace. He glanced down at the wound. "Not so bad. It not get vital organs. You be fine."
"You think?"
"I know."
"Thanks big guy," he said, the grin on his face feeling burning with falsehood and the taste of blood.
"Go, get a field dressing for it. If I was lucky, and it didn't hit anything important, I should be okay for now if I just patch myself up. When we get back to Tappas I'll see a doctor and he'll fix me up proper, okay?"
Lento looked doubtful.
"Okay?"
"Okay, boss."
"Go, find Buliwyf. Tell him what happened. Go."
Jamis watched as Lento stood, trudged as quickly as he could go off in the direction of Buliwyf, Jamis' brother, the other leader of their mercenary band. He would know what to do. He always did...
A tall muscular man in a chainmail shirt stood before Buliwyf and one of the militia, the last two men of their platoon.
"I commend you, boy." shouted the man. "Your little rag tag band have killed some of my best men. And now you stand alone before Hrunndir, defiant to the end. Look at you panting away, barely able to swing that sword of yours. It is a shame your friends are not here to witness this. No matter, you shall join them soon enough."
"We shall see." taunted Buliwyf.
"so eager to meet your death." Hrunndir called. "Then so be it whelp."
Buliwyf charged him but failed to fully parry Hrunndir's attack. Hrunndir's broad sword found its's mark in Buliwyf's right shoulder. Buliwyf knocked Hrunndir to the ground with and an upward thrust of the hilt of his sword and plunged his sword into his chest. He then lumbered towards the militia man who had made his way over to a crossbow on the ground, and fired it at Buliwyf, firing a bolt into his upper left arm.
"Wh.. Who... are you?" blurted the villager as he scrambled backwacks in dismay as his attack had failed.
"There is no point in giving you my name." retorted Buliwyf as he continued to approach the militia man. "You will not live long enough to remember it."
He gripped the hilt of his claymore tight, and mustered all the strength he had left and lifted his sword high above his head and brought it down upon his foe's head, cleaving his skull.
"Such a waste of life."
Buliwyf wearily dragged himself to nearby boulder, and dug the blade of his sword in the ground and rested on the rocky surface of the boulder to reflect.
"This is not a battle, this is a massacre." he thought to himself as he broke the shaft of the crossbow bolt before fainting from the blood loss due to his wounds.
"Brother! where are you!" he cried out before slipping out of consciousness.
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-Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.
Ignis checked the door, and noticing it was unbraced, crept in.
Regrettably, Ignis had been given the undesireable task of clearing out the housing of Ridia. It was disgusting work, both the idea of it, and the actual act of doing it. A "moral vortex" as Ignis had begun to call it. Giving this task sarcastic names was one of the only ways Ignis could cope with his diminishing sense of morality.
Thankfully, this house was empty. It must have been the house of one of the militiamen. Ignis chuckled to himself, as if it mattered who owned which house now, they were probably laying face down in a pool of their own blood. After chuckling for a moment, the weight of his dark humour sunk in; they were slaughtering a village, not an army.
He sighed deeply and slumped up against the wall, taking this time to rest and prepare for whatever was waiting him in the next house. Glancing around, he noticed several gold, pocketed it, and walked back out into the fray.
As he walked out of the house, he saw two of his fellow knights battling 4 of the villages militia, if you could even call them that. The way they fought, it felt more like pillaging a nursery, not battling a village of evil-doers.
Ignis quickly drew one of his knives, got into a better throwing position, and felled one of the villagers just as his two comrades both slew 1 themselves. The remaining villager tried to run, but was caught by the blade of one of his fellow knights. He jogged over to see if any wounds had been suffered.
"You two alright ?" he asked.
They nodded, and Ignis missed what was said as they were rushing off to the aid of one of the knights. With a great sigh, Ignis figured he had better get back to the task that was set out for him.
At this point, Ignis figured that most of the houses would be unoccupied, or so he hoped. Only fools or the aged would seek shelter after witnessing this slaughter, the latter of the two was the one that Ignis was worried about.
Ignis picked out his next house, checked the door, and battered it down after finding it was braced. Ignis crept inside to check for inhabitants. As luck would have it, or lack thereof Ignis thought, an old pair of what seemed to be village elders awaited him. Clutching each other in the dark, they wimpered as Ignis looked into the room.
"Gods forgive me", he whispered, and drawing his blades, wondered when this promised glory would show it's face.
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Quote from "Sixen" »
"One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
Kifu scurried about the battle ground looking for worthy souls for him to take. He grabbed a soldier's hair lifting it his head from the ground. "Nope, hehehe, already dead." he said to himself quietly. He made his way through the carnage hoping to find souls that have not yet left their bodies. Finally, after looking at countless dead bodies he had found one still barely alive. "Hahaha, yes, this one is still breathing." Kifu drew his dagger from his side and plunged it into the heart of the soldier. As he drove the dagger deep into the soldiers chest, Kifu started chanting. "Daga moyo rohokomboa." A blue glow emanated from the soldiers body and with his last breath the blue glow left his body and lifted up into the air. Kifu dropped the body like a bag of rocks and lifted his arms up into the air. "Moyoja" screamed Kifu, commanding that the spirit to enter his body, denying the spirit of its actual release. The blue spirit shot towards Kifu and entered his body with a force that almost knocked Kifu off his feet.
Kifu returned to his scavanger hunt for worthy souls. Just as he found another one a soldier crept up behind him with his sword pointed right at Kifu's back. With Kifu distracted with another body, the soldier had an easy task of killing him. Right as the sword was about to penetrate Kifu's skin a huge force pushed over the soldier. Kifu turned around and saw one of his zombie hounds mauling at the soldier's face. Shredding the skin from the soldier's skull. Kifu laughed "hehehe, almost got me didn't you." as he stared right into the soldiers blood filled eyes. Kifu just stood there as his zombie hound finished the job and slayed the soldier. With the soldiers last breath, Kifu once again dug his dagger into the soldiers heart and repeated his chant to obtain his soul. Kifu looked down at his zombie hound. "good job" he said.
Off in the distance he heard a voice calling to him. Asking him if all of the soldiers near him were dead. Kifu bent down to the ground and pulled out three toads he had rustling about in his pouch that he kept on his belt. Breathing on them, the toads glowed with a greenish hue. He set the toads down onto the ground and let them do there work. The toads quickly spread through out the slain soldiers, spreading their plague amongst the corpses. Kifu shouted back"if they weren't, hehehe, they are now."
Kifu thought to himself "This is it, finally a place I can call home" He looked around the carnage in front of him and chuckeld one more time.
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Warick looked down at the Soldiers bruised and bloodied lifeless body. Okay now when does the real fight begin? he thought.
Suddenly he heard a loud battle cry. He looked up to find the source of the noise. When he did he saw a group of 3 soilders charging at him.
"Finally a challenge." He whispered to himself. He began to charge back at them swiftly.
The first soldier met him and Warick violently shoved his blade deep into the chest of the enemy. He turned and saw the other soldier's blade coming down upon his head, quickly, he spun around and cleaved the attacking soldiers leg off. He knew the enemy was mortally wounded but not yet dead, he looked down at him then stabbed the enemy in the face. Two down one to go. he thought.
He noticed that the last soldier was rather scrawny, he decided to get creative with his kill. He ran to the soldiers position and grabbed him by the neck lifting him 2 feet off of the ground, and quickly pinned him against a tree.
"So this is where it ends," the soldier said with a smirk on his face.
"Looks like it. See you in He-" Suddenly Warick felt a searing pain in his thigh. He looked down and saw a small dagger plunged into it. Quickly he pulled it out and slit his enemys throat felling nothing but rage.
Warick was now in emense pain but he remembered the words of his Grandfather "Never show pain, for pain is weakness leaving the body."
The blade of Ignis's katana effortlessly cleaved through the makeshift armor of the militiaman, tearing a deep gash in his chest. He fell back just as quickly as the blade has entered his body, and lay still. Despite the pitched battle taking place, Ignis wondered what had driven these 2 villages to such drastic measures. Surely a land claim could have been settled less... bloodily. But he settled on the fact that he would probably never know the motivations behind the villages' actions. He chuckled to himself, wondering what had driven him to contemplate diplomacy in such a dangerous place, and after looking into the open eyes of the man who's life he had just taken, Ignis focused his mind back onto the battle. Out of the side of his view, he noticed one of the militia brandishing a knife, ready to throw it at one of his comrades. Before he could react, the militiaman threw his knife, which found it's mark in his comrade's thigh. Ignis drew one of the knives from his boot, and threw it deftly into the militiamans' chest. He bellowed at Ignis, and pulled a large blade off his back. Shocked that the man was still standing, Ignis drew another knife from his boot, aimed, and threw it at the man. It sunk into his left shouder. Wishing that he had hit the man's sword arm, he drew his 2 blades. The man, obviously standing because of adrenaline alone, let loose a cry and swung his blade at Ignis. Turning it aside with his wakizashi, he thrusted his katana into the mans gut, and tore it out with a sideways jerk. Tearing a lateral gash as the blade came out, Ignis readied himself to counter-attack the next blow. The man however, did not have the energy, nor adrenaline left to strike once more. He fell over, and lay lifeless. Ignis collected his 2 knives, and rushed to the aid of his comrade. "Are you alright?" Ignis asked. The man simply nodded, as if trying to deny the pain the knife had brought on. Ignis nodded back, and rushed off to the next skirmish, wondering to himself if he would survive the battles ahead.
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Quote from "Sixen" »
"One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
Kifu quickly made his way over to Warick and Ignis. "What fun is this ehh... Look at all of them lying life less on the ground."
" Where should we head to next?" asked Kifu with his head slightly cocked and a wide smile on his face.
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Looking out over the blood soaked field, locating her spent arrows, Kari suddenly sees movement to her left, she tilts her head slightly and sees a man loading his crossbow, she swiftly pulls back on her bow and lets fly an arrow. She spins around behind a burning wagon as the bolt hits what is left of it. She sees the man fall clutching at her arrow that has pierced his chest and walks over to him. Grabbing the shaft of her arrow she yanks it out of his chest as he gurgles up his last breath, blood streams down his body as she looks down at him.
She continues on looking for her arrows, pulling them out, hearing the wet squelching sound they make as they are pulled out. The smell of blood and burning wood permeates the area, she says to herself, this is the worst part of battle, smelling the aftermath. Making her way around the field, stepping over all the slain bodies she thinks, these were just ordinary villagers, not trained men as we had thought they would be.
Kira sees most of her comrades finishing up their fighting, she sees one retrieving his thrown daggers. One member had just faced three opponents and she noticed some blood on his clothing but he carried on. She sees the blue light from small witch doctor as he takes care of his opponent. "Even though these are just villagers, some fought well", she says.
She hears Buliwyf call out for his brother and she notices that Jamis is down. After Buliwyf calls our for Jamis he too falls but Lento is approaching him so she decides to head over to see if she can be of any aid to Jamis. She places her bow behind her and pulls out her short sword from her belt as she runs over to see how he is. As she leaps over the bodies one reaches out with a dagger as she is jumping and slices the back of her leg. "Aaahhgg", she cries out as she lands on it. Quickly, bringing her sword around, she plunges it into the mans arm that just sliced her leg "HA that is what your price is for drawing my blood", she yells in his face. He screams out as she pulls her sword out and plunges it into his heart. She looks at her wound, tears a piece of the mans shirt off and ties it around her leg before setting off a bit more cautiously to check on their leader.
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Smiling is infectious.
Give, expecting nothing thereof. ------------ BoD - Come have some fun! Folks will always come and go, so enjoy them while they're meant to be in your life.
Būti looked around the field and saw nothing but carnage. With a sigh of relief, knowing that most of the fighting was now over, she tugged at the black ribbons that were wrapped around her wrist. Her scythe, whose blade was embedded into the ground beside a headless warrior, flew back to her position and now rested in her gloved hands. Never before had she ever witnessed so many deaths, something that would likely traumatize any girl her age. She swallowed down any disgust, with the realization that if she couldn't handle this, she would be unable to handle any massacres when (and if) she ever faced off against the legions of the Burning Hells or the Hosts of the High Heavens. She stood up from her position, inside the reinforced wagon. She decided to stay inside the wagons to ensure that she was a far away from any enemies. She looked around and saw one of the men down, but when as she jumped down and began slowly making her way there, she realized it was one of the founders of the organization - Jamis. This is definitely not good; our leader has been... killed? She thought to herself. She began to quicken her walking pace and approached the felled man. She watched as men began walking to and fro him and the wagons. When she finally reached him, she bent down without saying a word and inspected the wound, looking for any traces of toxins. After a quick minute of looking around the opened wound, she saw no trace of poison. She looked up at Jamis, and said "Looks like his spear was not laced with any poisons, luckily for you. You should be fine". She shuffled so that she faced the brown haired man, "So then, tell me again, why exactly are we fighting this war for the Tappas?" she asked.
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One becomes strong when they are fighting to protect someone close to them... - Shiro Haku
Warick looked at Kifu and drew a deep breath in from his noes "Awwww, yes, the sweet smell of carnage. Hopefully the next fight will be more of a challenge."
Warick looked over the field of bodies when he noticed the rest of the Knights in a group. He decided to walk over and see what was going on.
"Why exactly are we fighting this war for the Tappas?" He heard Buti say. Well looks like she beat me to it, he thought.
Kifu decided to gather with warirk and buti. He had heard her question and was inquisitve of the answer to Buti's question. " yes, why indeed" he said with an odd smirk on his face.
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Grinning at the obvious delight the old witch doctor was taking in this sport, Ignis was saddened to tell him that it seemed as if the majority of the militia had been slain, few were left to kill. "Looks like we'll have to wait till the next battle, mind if I take a rain check? There will be many more chances to fight." Ignis said to Kifu with a sigh. Ignis noticed his 2 comrades walking off to a clump of his fellow knights, and wondering what was happening, followed behind. As he stumbled over the corpses spread about the field, he wondered once more what had driven these 2 villages to such drastic measures. He looked down and was met with lifeless stares, he wondered what would have become of these men if they had lived out their lives. Guess we'll never know what they could have done, Ignis thought, and chuckled darkly as he stepped over yet another mangled corpse.
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Quote from "Sixen" »
"One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
Confused by the ease of this victory kifu sat down. "I guess anyone willing to raise arms can be seen as a worthy advesary" he said softly. Then kifu closed his eyes preparing to meditate on the wake of the battle.
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The scene before him was a strange paradox of terms. Mordwythe had expected a stampede of armory and weaponry as the opposing forces charged to battle in all gallantry and haste that would befit such a common thing in a troublesome time of death and sorrow. Mordwythe had not anticipated, however, that the battle would be little more than a bloody skirmish, men and women that were barely clad for battle falling before the sword, bow, and staff, seeing horrors that no quiet villager should ever have seen.
He checked left, then right, and then gave the landscape before him another broad sweep- the field of Phillipassus, dense grasses interspersed with tiny bits of natural refuse and stubble, all christened and laden with the unfortunate child begotten of battle- gore, misery, pain, and death. Sorrow and confusion.
"This," he whispered to himself safely behind the fringe of trees, "could only be the beginning for many of them. No doubt the hatred and anguish birthed by this massacre will engender more of the same in an uncertain future."
He then stowed his short staff on his back, not old enough yet to need its support for anything but bashing the skulls of his enemies and channeling his birthright's fiery power. I wonder what our role is in all of this chaos? I wonder what the Knights of the Burning Blade came to this for? Mercenaries need pay, yes, but how could Jamis have accepted the terms with such a hopeless and inglorious battle to fight- peasants versus armed men?
He stepped from the cover of the trees on to the nearly silent and motionless bleak field before him and mentally shrugged the thought off. Perhaps that is simply how mercenaries work in this world- a handsome pay forgives the job. Oh, how little I know about such things.
His eyes shone brilliantly for just a moment, flaring a deep, burning orange and then subsiding. Glory, however, is not what I embarked on this further path of life for, however. Understanding, always, has been my forefront. Father, where ever you are, grant your son strength so that he may grow.
His eyes focused on the valiant leader, a shock of scarlet bursting from his body. He saw near him a growing number of the Burning Blade. Kifu, eccentric yet skilled in his own way, gandered over the dead. Warick, a bit off and still fending off combatants, seeming to quickly come to companionship with the odd Witch DoctorKifu, Mordwythe still knew little about. He saw Ignis, a whir of speed and blade as his katana continued to pierce his foes.
Buti, young yet promising, viewed the horrors of brutal killing about her and its costs with the curiosity mingled with slight fear that should always be in the heart of the young (although Mordwythe, himself, was not particularly old). Kari was there, too, scavenging missiles from the dead to use in her unique, precise, and effective choice of combat.
The Knights of the Burning Blade numbered many so far, but looking at what had just transpired, how many of them could hope to come out in the end of things? He nudged his sack over his shoulder in to a more comfortable position, keeper of a few books of magical curiosity from his prot?g?, Drognan.
This is only the beginning. He strode over the grasses and rocks toward his leader.
Wandering the battlefield and getting involved when needed, Donsro's warhammer was already dripping of blood and entrails.
Noticing a gathering going on with the leaders of the Knights, Donsro maneuvered through the rotting corspes of the previous battle scene that has taken place.
He laughed at the bodies of his oppenents and enjoyed kicking them around for fun. "Worthless",he mentioned, as he made his way to his fellow comrades.
Jethera walked on to the bloodied field sighing, "I always miss the battles." Jethera walked through the body covered field wincing at the slain villagers. Jethera rolled bodies over with his foot in search of tomes of scrolls for his usage, doubting any new material.
One body rolled over and it was another countless tome of the Sin War. "Bah! I've got the entire collection in my study," Jethera scoffed.
He noticed the congregation of his fellow mercenaries off to the side, though he could not see why through their dense numbers. As he strolled over to regroup with his friends, he noticed a russle in the bushes at the distance. He stood behind Warick watching the bushes as he tapped him on the shoulder, "Do you see that? In the bushes there?" As Jethera finished his speech another villager charged from the bushes armed with an ordinary lumber axe.
Jethera's palms glowed as he conjured a spell to retaliate the charging villager. He shot a yellow bolt of energy from his hands and the villager stopped in his tracks, lowered his weapon and spoke, "Hello there, I have a proposition for you. Care to embark on it?"
Jethera turned to the group, "Don't worry about him. He's just another friendly now."
DIsturbed by the sounds of a fellow burning blade member, kifu broke his meditation to see who it was. " ohh, Jethera, good to see you. Hehehe. I guess better late then never. Hahaha" kifu chuckled out. Kifu rose from the ground and patted Jethera on the back. He looked towards the now docile villager. " we couldn't have done it...hehehe... Without you" he shouted as he held his sides from laughter.
"so what took you so long?" he asked Jethera looking out on the war torn battle no thanks to Jethera.
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"Sorry Kifu, I can only walk so fast with so many tomes," Jethera responded to him. "Even though I hadn't helped with this battle, I can ensure you, comrades, that when I am put into battle, the results will be above standards. I'll show you Kifu, someday."
Jethera raised a hand to the villager that he had manipulated and waved him away. The villager turned and walked off.
"I see said the blind man" kifu responded with a confused look on his face. "well than, shall we plunder through these dead bodies some more for supplies while we wait on Jamis? I could use a few rotting eyes and hearts for later battles. "
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Field of Phillipassus
"Lento!" cried Jamis, skewering his screaming opponent in the gut, his hand sliding along the wooden pole of the man's own spear. "Watch my back!"
The large golden haired man to Jamis' right grunted in acknowledgement and turned to face their rear, looking out for attacks from behind. The battle of Pillipassus was coming to a close, the mercenaries winning a decisive victory against the poorly-trained and poorly-organized Ridians.
As he kicked the dying man in the face, knocking him over to the ground, Jamis began to wonder about the battle. They had been warned that the militia of Ridia would be well-prepared and able for the coming battle - the deciding clash of two rival villages (Ridia and Tappas) - and yet the men they'd faced were nothing but an uncoordinated rabble of stalky villagers weilding weapons they could barely hold above the ground.
A victory's a victory, he told himself, trying to make himself believe it. That's how you were trained to think.
All around him, the signs of an easily one-sided battle lay: burnt wagons, grass slick and red with blood, the fallen corpses of the not-so-fortunate. The smell of death and decay had not yet begun to permeate the air, but already the crows were circling, the sound of battle more than enough to pique their interest. He watched contentedly as familiar figures began to head back towards the Knights' wagons. They were well-constructed, fortified, guarded from flame and sword with steel plating. Those figures would be the other victors; the other Knights. Knights of the burning blade.
His lips pursed in though, Jamis took a step forward, grabbed his sword off the ground where it had fallen, and wiped the bloody remnants of the Ridian militiamen he'd killed onto the grass. Returning it to its sheath, he smiled at Lento.
"Another job well done, eh?"
He saw the big man's lips begin to curl in a smile. But they suddenly stopped.
"Jamis!" he shouted. "Behind you!"
Turning around a moment too late, Jamis saw a flash of wood and steel accompanied by a stabbing pain in his abdomen. His sharp intake of breath worsened the pain and it was all he could do to stop from screaming. He looked down, saw his attacked slump over, finally dead, the spear slipping from his lifeless hand.
Jamis whimpered, the pain unbearable as he felt the tip of the spear rip his flesh, slicing mercilessly at all it could reach. He wrapped his hands around the shaft and tugged, pulling it out of his own side. Within a moment he was on the ground and Lento was over top of him, looking concerned and confused.
"I..." stammered Jamis, the shock beginning to dissipate. "I thought he was dead... I didn't think..."
"Shut up," said the big man with a grimace. He glanced down at the wound. "Not so bad. It not get vital organs. You be fine."
"You think?"
"I know."
"Thanks big guy," he said, the grin on his face feeling burning with falsehood and the taste of blood.
"Go, get a field dressing for it. If I was lucky, and it didn't hit anything important, I should be okay for now if I just patch myself up. When we get back to Tappas I'll see a doctor and he'll fix me up proper, okay?"
Lento looked doubtful.
"Okay?"
"Okay, boss."
"Go, find Buliwyf. Tell him what happened. Go."
Jamis watched as Lento stood, trudged as quickly as he could go off in the direction of Buliwyf, Jamis' brother, the other leader of their mercenary band. He would know what to do. He always did...
"I commend you, boy." shouted the man. "Your little rag tag band have killed some of my best men. And now you stand alone before Hrunndir, defiant to the end. Look at you panting away, barely able to swing that sword of yours. It is a shame your friends are not here to witness this. No matter, you shall join them soon enough."
"We shall see." taunted Buliwyf.
"so eager to meet your death." Hrunndir called. "Then so be it whelp."
Buliwyf charged him but failed to fully parry Hrunndir's attack. Hrunndir's broad sword found its's mark in Buliwyf's right shoulder. Buliwyf knocked Hrunndir to the ground with and an upward thrust of the hilt of his sword and plunged his sword into his chest. He then lumbered towards the militia man who had made his way over to a crossbow on the ground, and fired it at Buliwyf, firing a bolt into his upper left arm.
"Wh.. Who... are you?" blurted the villager as he scrambled backwacks in dismay as his attack had failed.
"There is no point in giving you my name." retorted Buliwyf as he continued to approach the militia man. "You will not live long enough to remember it."
He gripped the hilt of his claymore tight, and mustered all the strength he had left and lifted his sword high above his head and brought it down upon his foe's head, cleaving his skull.
"Such a waste of life."
Buliwyf wearily dragged himself to nearby boulder, and dug the blade of his sword in the ground and rested on the rocky surface of the boulder to reflect.
"This is not a battle, this is a massacre." he thought to himself as he broke the shaft of the crossbow bolt before fainting from the blood loss due to his wounds.
"Brother! where are you!" he cried out before slipping out of consciousness.
Regrettably, Ignis had been given the undesireable task of clearing out the housing of Ridia. It was disgusting work, both the idea of it, and the actual act of doing it. A "moral vortex" as Ignis had begun to call it. Giving this task sarcastic names was one of the only ways Ignis could cope with his diminishing sense of morality.
Thankfully, this house was empty. It must have been the house of one of the militiamen. Ignis chuckled to himself, as if it mattered who owned which house now, they were probably laying face down in a pool of their own blood. After chuckling for a moment, the weight of his dark humour sunk in; they were slaughtering a village, not an army.
He sighed deeply and slumped up against the wall, taking this time to rest and prepare for whatever was waiting him in the next house. Glancing around, he noticed several gold, pocketed it, and walked back out into the fray.
As he walked out of the house, he saw two of his fellow knights battling 4 of the villages militia, if you could even call them that. The way they fought, it felt more like pillaging a nursery, not battling a village of evil-doers.
Ignis quickly drew one of his knives, got into a better throwing position, and felled one of the villagers just as his two comrades both slew 1 themselves. The remaining villager tried to run, but was caught by the blade of one of his fellow knights. He jogged over to see if any wounds had been suffered.
"You two alright ?" he asked.
They nodded, and Ignis missed what was said as they were rushing off to the aid of one of the knights. With a great sigh, Ignis figured he had better get back to the task that was set out for him.
At this point, Ignis figured that most of the houses would be unoccupied, or so he hoped. Only fools or the aged would seek shelter after witnessing this slaughter, the latter of the two was the one that Ignis was worried about.
Ignis picked out his next house, checked the door, and battered it down after finding it was braced. Ignis crept inside to check for inhabitants. As luck would have it, or lack thereof Ignis thought, an old pair of what seemed to be village elders awaited him. Clutching each other in the dark, they wimpered as Ignis looked into the room.
"Gods forgive me", he whispered, and drawing his blades, wondered when this promised glory would show it's face.
Kifu returned to his scavanger hunt for worthy souls. Just as he found another one a soldier crept up behind him with his sword pointed right at Kifu's back. With Kifu distracted with another body, the soldier had an easy task of killing him. Right as the sword was about to penetrate Kifu's skin a huge force pushed over the soldier. Kifu turned around and saw one of his zombie hounds mauling at the soldier's face. Shredding the skin from the soldier's skull. Kifu laughed "hehehe, almost got me didn't you." as he stared right into the soldiers blood filled eyes. Kifu just stood there as his zombie hound finished the job and slayed the soldier. With the soldiers last breath, Kifu once again dug his dagger into the soldiers heart and repeated his chant to obtain his soul. Kifu looked down at his zombie hound. "good job" he said.
Off in the distance he heard a voice calling to him. Asking him if all of the soldiers near him were dead. Kifu bent down to the ground and pulled out three toads he had rustling about in his pouch that he kept on his belt. Breathing on them, the toads glowed with a greenish hue. He set the toads down onto the ground and let them do there work. The toads quickly spread through out the slain soldiers, spreading their plague amongst the corpses. Kifu shouted back"if they weren't, hehehe, they are now."
Kifu thought to himself "This is it, finally a place I can call home" He looked around the carnage in front of him and chuckeld one more time.
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Suddenly he heard a loud battle cry. He looked up to find the source of the noise. When he did he saw a group of 3 soilders charging at him.
"Finally a challenge." He whispered to himself. He began to charge back at them swiftly.
The first soldier met him and Warick violently shoved his blade deep into the chest of the enemy. He turned and saw the other soldier's blade coming down upon his head, quickly, he spun around and cleaved the attacking soldiers leg off. He knew the enemy was mortally wounded but not yet dead, he looked down at him then stabbed the enemy in the face. Two down one to go. he thought.
He noticed that the last soldier was rather scrawny, he decided to get creative with his kill. He ran to the soldiers position and grabbed him by the neck lifting him 2 feet off of the ground, and quickly pinned him against a tree.
"So this is where it ends," the soldier said with a smirk on his face.
"Looks like it. See you in He-" Suddenly Warick felt a searing pain in his thigh. He looked down and saw a small dagger plunged into it. Quickly he pulled it out and slit his enemys throat felling nothing but rage.
Warick was now in emense pain but he remembered the words of his Grandfather "Never show pain, for pain is weakness leaving the body."
Warick stood and waited for his next victims.
Despite the pitched battle taking place, Ignis wondered what had driven these 2 villages to such drastic measures. Surely a land claim could have been settled less... bloodily. But he settled on the fact that he would probably never know the motivations behind the villages' actions. He chuckled to himself, wondering what had driven him to contemplate diplomacy in such a dangerous place, and after looking into the open eyes of the man who's life he had just taken, Ignis focused his mind back onto the battle.
Out of the side of his view, he noticed one of the militia brandishing a knife, ready to throw it at one of his comrades. Before he could react, the militiaman threw his knife, which found it's mark in his comrade's thigh. Ignis drew one of the knives from his boot, and threw it deftly into the militiamans' chest. He bellowed at Ignis, and pulled a large blade off his back.
Shocked that the man was still standing, Ignis drew another knife from his boot, aimed, and threw it at the man. It sunk into his left shouder. Wishing that he had hit the man's sword arm, he drew his 2 blades. The man, obviously standing because of adrenaline alone, let loose a cry and swung his blade at Ignis. Turning it aside with his wakizashi, he thrusted his katana into the mans gut, and tore it out with a sideways jerk. Tearing a lateral gash as the blade came out, Ignis readied himself to counter-attack the next blow.
The man however, did not have the energy, nor adrenaline left to strike once more. He fell over, and lay lifeless. Ignis collected his 2 knives, and rushed to the aid of his comrade.
"Are you alright?" Ignis asked.
The man simply nodded, as if trying to deny the pain the knife had brought on. Ignis nodded back, and rushed off to the next skirmish, wondering to himself if he would survive the battles ahead.
" Where should we head to next?" asked Kifu with his head slightly cocked and a wide smile on his face.
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She continues on looking for her arrows, pulling them out, hearing the wet squelching sound they make as they are pulled out. The smell of blood and burning wood permeates the area, she says to herself, this is the worst part of battle, smelling the aftermath. Making her way around the field, stepping over all the slain bodies she thinks, these were just ordinary villagers, not trained men as we had thought they would be.
Kira sees most of her comrades finishing up their fighting, she sees one retrieving his thrown daggers. One member had just faced three opponents and she noticed some blood on his clothing but he carried on. She sees the blue light from small witch doctor as he takes care of his opponent. "Even though these are just villagers, some fought well", she says.
She hears Buliwyf call out for his brother and she notices that Jamis is down. After Buliwyf calls our for Jamis he too falls but Lento is approaching him so she decides to head over to see if she can be of any aid to Jamis. She places her bow behind her and pulls out her short sword from her belt as she runs over to see how he is. As she leaps over the bodies one reaches out with a dagger as she is jumping and slices the back of her leg. "Aaahhgg", she cries out as she lands on it. Quickly, bringing her sword around, she plunges it into the mans arm that just sliced her leg "HA that is what your price is for drawing my blood", she yells in his face. He screams out as she pulls her sword out and plunges it into his heart. She looks at her wound, tears a piece of the mans shirt off and ties it around her leg before setting off a bit more cautiously to check on their leader.
Folks will always come and go, so enjoy them while they're meant to be in your life.
She swallowed down any disgust, with the realization that if she couldn't handle this, she would be unable to handle any massacres when (and if) she ever faced off against the legions of the Burning Hells or the Hosts of the High Heavens. She stood up from her position, inside the reinforced wagon. She decided to stay inside the wagons to ensure that she was a far away from any enemies. She looked around and saw one of the men down, but when as she jumped down and began slowly making her way there, she realized it was one of the founders of the organization - Jamis.
This is definitely not good; our leader has been... killed? She thought to herself. She began to quicken her walking pace and approached the felled man. She watched as men began walking to and fro him and the wagons. When she finally reached him, she bent down without saying a word and inspected the wound, looking for any traces of toxins. After a quick minute of looking around the opened wound, she saw no trace of poison. She looked up at Jamis, and said "Looks like his spear was not laced with any poisons, luckily for you. You should be fine". She shuffled so that she faced the brown haired man, "So then, tell me again, why exactly are we fighting this war for the Tappas?" she asked.
One becomes strong when they are fighting to protect someone close to them... - Shiro Haku
Warick looked over the field of bodies when he noticed the rest of the Knights in a group. He decided to walk over and see what was going on.
"Why exactly are we fighting this war for the Tappas?" He heard Buti say. Well looks like she beat me to it, he thought.
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"Looks like we'll have to wait till the next battle, mind if I take a rain check? There will be many more chances to fight." Ignis said to Kifu with a sigh.
Ignis noticed his 2 comrades walking off to a clump of his fellow knights, and wondering what was happening, followed behind.
As he stumbled over the corpses spread about the field, he wondered once more what had driven these 2 villages to such drastic measures. He looked down and was met with lifeless stares, he wondered what would have become of these men if they had lived out their lives.
Guess we'll never know what they could have done, Ignis thought, and chuckled darkly as he stepped over yet another mangled corpse.
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He checked left, then right, and then gave the landscape before him another broad sweep- the field of Phillipassus, dense grasses interspersed with tiny bits of natural refuse and stubble, all christened and laden with the unfortunate child begotten of battle- gore, misery, pain, and death. Sorrow and confusion.
"This," he whispered to himself safely behind the fringe of trees, "could only be the beginning for many of them. No doubt the hatred and anguish birthed by this massacre will engender more of the same in an uncertain future."
He then stowed his short staff on his back, not old enough yet to need its support for anything but bashing the skulls of his enemies and channeling his birthright's fiery power. I wonder what our role is in all of this chaos? I wonder what the Knights of the Burning Blade came to this for? Mercenaries need pay, yes, but how could Jamis have accepted the terms with such a hopeless and inglorious battle to fight- peasants versus armed men?
He stepped from the cover of the trees on to the nearly silent and motionless bleak field before him and mentally shrugged the thought off. Perhaps that is simply how mercenaries work in this world- a handsome pay forgives the job. Oh, how little I know about such things.
His eyes shone brilliantly for just a moment, flaring a deep, burning orange and then subsiding. Glory, however, is not what I embarked on this further path of life for, however. Understanding, always, has been my forefront. Father, where ever you are, grant your son strength so that he may grow.
His eyes focused on the valiant leader, a shock of scarlet bursting from his body. He saw near him a growing number of the Burning Blade. Kifu, eccentric yet skilled in his own way, gandered over the dead. Warick, a bit off and still fending off combatants, seeming to quickly come to companionship with the odd Witch DoctorKifu, Mordwythe still knew little about. He saw Ignis, a whir of speed and blade as his katana continued to pierce his foes.
Buti, young yet promising, viewed the horrors of brutal killing about her and its costs with the curiosity mingled with slight fear that should always be in the heart of the young (although Mordwythe, himself, was not particularly old). Kari was there, too, scavenging missiles from the dead to use in her unique, precise, and effective choice of combat.
The Knights of the Burning Blade numbered many so far, but looking at what had just transpired, how many of them could hope to come out in the end of things? He nudged his sack over his shoulder in to a more comfortable position, keeper of a few books of magical curiosity from his prot?g?, Drognan.
This is only the beginning. He strode over the grasses and rocks toward his leader.
"Hello brother." Warick said as he extended his hand towards the mage. Well that's odd, he thought His eyes are.... glowing.
Noticing a gathering going on with the leaders of the Knights, Donsro maneuvered through the rotting corspes of the previous battle scene that has taken place.
He laughed at the bodies of his oppenents and enjoyed kicking them around for fun. "Worthless", he mentioned, as he made his way to his fellow comrades.
One body rolled over and it was another countless tome of the Sin War. "Bah! I've got the entire collection in my study," Jethera scoffed.
He noticed the congregation of his fellow mercenaries off to the side, though he could not see why through their dense numbers. As he strolled over to regroup with his friends, he noticed a russle in the bushes at the distance. He stood behind Warick watching the bushes as he tapped him on the shoulder, "Do you see that? In the bushes there?" As Jethera finished his speech another villager charged from the bushes armed with an ordinary lumber axe.
Jethera's palms glowed as he conjured a spell to retaliate the charging villager. He shot a yellow bolt of energy from his hands and the villager stopped in his tracks, lowered his weapon and spoke, "Hello there, I have a proposition for you. Care to embark on it?"
Jethera turned to the group, "Don't worry about him. He's just another friendly now."
"so what took you so long?" he asked Jethera looking out on the war torn battle no thanks to Jethera.
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Jethera raised a hand to the villager that he had manipulated and waved him away. The villager turned and walked off.
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