Post by Marabelle De'Vera Lightshield on Mar 21, 2013 17:06:37 GMT -5
Those eyes were cold, and calculating as the arrow remained leveled upon him aimed right at his heart. Not a word spoken with only the icy wind that blew around them, faintly stirring the dense fog. Her eyebrows narrowed downward with slow steps starting to carry her backwards to keep a good distance from Jarvan.
The cry for Jarvan from above caused her to take her eyes off Jarvan for a split second, but as she did so the bolt would fly free of her bow and soar across the empty space between them. Should it strike him, it may hit him in his shoulder, or graze his cheek. But it would not strike anywhere vital.
As swiftly as it was released, the jade stone stirred more violently causing Belle to gain a pained look on her face. Tears started to fall down her cheeks again as another arrow was quickly drawn from her quiver and set back against the bow string far faster then Belle would have been able to do normally. It was clear whatever was controlling her had superior skills in archery. The second bolt remains trained upon him, no matter if the first hit or missed.
Tahlem could not respond before Shyvana flew off to look for the Prince. "Stay safe..." He muttered to himself. The situation needs to be brought under control, they need to get the military to start defending the city from the approaching army.
He turned to Victus who had just cleaved a zombie.
" Victus, an undead army approaches the walls. All available forces have regrouped in the main square and from there we will move back to the wall and take up quick defensive positions." He took a deep breath. " Most civilians are back at the keep now..we can take these few with us but... we need to man the wall or else they will break into the city as easy as this sneak attack has." He explained. It brought a sour taste in his mouth...leaving men, woman, and children to their fates. In the end, he made the call. He lives with it...
" We must rally the troops now, or else we risk losing the entire city."
"Then all must fight. We will rally all of Demacia. They want their lives, they will fight for it." The Barbarian growled.
"You are the general. You get their attention with words. I will cleave a path through the dead and get what civilians I can to you. That will get the rest. Cover my back as we go to the Square. After we drop this lot off, I will start back for the wall."
He turned to the civilians.
"Take sticks, bones, knives, stones, anything. Use it to fight for whatever you are worth. You fall behind, and you are left behind. Stay behind me."
He went down the street towards the Square, cleaveing left and right, destroying most of the dead in two blows. No time to think, no time to defend, no time to mourn. The Realm of the Barbarian is a realm were the next moment is the last and anything else is a gift.
Post by Lucas Brightshield on Mar 21, 2013 18:30:09 GMT -5
((Is it okay to come out or should I wait, Karthy?))
I am a Pathfinder. I will do what everyone else thinks below him, because someone must do it. Call me dishonorable for it all you want. I serve justice, not honor. And Demacia, ofcourse.
Jarvan was becoming exasperated as his words seemed to not reach her. "BELLE! Where is the shy, gracious woman I fell in love with?" When she looked up though he took this opportunity and charged at her. His intentions were to tackle her to the ground. She may be possessed by a warrior, but this was still her body. He was stronger and faster than she was.
As the arrow flew by, it whizzed by his face. A long, but shallow gash appeared on his cheek. Blood instantly pooled out and ran down his neck. He barely felt it though with the adrenaline pumping. The prince felt hope when he saw her face contort and tears roll down her face. "Fight it! Come back to me."
At this point he almost reached her. He put his spear horizontally in front of him so he could easily knock her down and have her pinned.
Last Edit: Mar 21, 2013 19:09:06 GMT -5 by Deleted
Post by Gillam Dunwall on Mar 21, 2013 19:49:29 GMT -5
The creatures came. An unending swarm of them descending upon the city. Gillam prepared his weapons, but was caught extremely off guard. The undead, noticing Gillam, moved towards him with incredible haste.
GIllam lowered his buckler in the direction of the creatures, preparing for the onslaught. If Gillam was going to die, he would die fighting. He raised his lance high above his head, poised to strike.
"FOR DEMACIA!" Gillam stood tall while the undead swarmed around him. One. Two. Three down, and counting. More and more undead came...there was no end to their charge. Soon, Gillam could not take it.
He was overwhelmed.
Gillam fell, a vicious claw wound had cut across his face, and already, blood was pouring out of the opening. His exposed head hit the cobblestone ground hard. The undead trampled over him, instead opting to move towards The Ruined King.
GIllam lay on the ground, his body was bruised and broken. Blood covered his face like a blanket covers a mattress. He felt like he was going to die, but at least he had helped Demacia.
"Help..." Gillam croaked weakly, raising his right arm as high as he could in his wounded state, hoping that someone, somewhere, would notice him.
Last Edit: Mar 21, 2013 19:49:43 GMT -5 by Gillam Dunwall
"No matter the era, I am Demacian, through and through."
Valerian was not used to supernatural attacks, and was utterly defenseless when the Ruined King's shadow of fear swept over the city. Feeling the very air taken from his lungs, he collapsed, blacking out, bow and arrows on the ground.
He slowly roused to the din of battle still raging about. He crawled to the edge to see how it was going; when suddenly one of the undead had finally crawled up onto the roof. Just barely alert, he turned to come face to face with it- Valerian's world became a struggle as the creature hissed and moaned, as the athlete was now caught in a struggle with it; it attempted to wrap him in an embrace with his claws. Its fang-ridden mouth attempted to bite at him, and even as he resisted he couldn't help but suffer a few cuts.
Determined not to die, Valerian struck at him with a knee and knocked him aside. The relatively poor hand-to-hand combatant crawled away as the thing came over to attempt to attack him again- he picked up one of his arrows, the solid Adamantine shafted one- and stabbed the thing in the head. Repeatedly. Until it stopped moving. Valerian grunted and shouted as he learned first hand the horror of the battlefield. The creature collapsed dead on him, and he shoved the body aside in disgust.
Gasping for breath, he collected his bow and quiver or arrows, and looked below; Gilliam had fallen in combat. Valerian shot two explosive arrows towards the advancing yet endless undead wave, again clearing the way as he leapt down to assist him.
His breathing was fast. He was down here now, in the thick of things. He could only see Poppy and a few brave Demacian soldiers still fighting for King and Country... which way to go?
Last Edit: Mar 21, 2013 20:44:08 GMT -5 by Valeria
Post by thenighttwins on Mar 21, 2013 21:22:40 GMT -5
Dani was laughing, It was audible for a distance. She was enjoying herself, she was killing all the undead in sight, never tiring, never relenting. She bounded up the rooftops and continued anywhere she was lead. She eventually heard fighting. She paused and looked over, on the overlooks of where she stood, Gillam was easily taking on a swarm of undead. She grinned.
"Hes strong, ah! Hes getting defeated." Dani pouted, a flicker of movement and suddenly two arrows appeared from seemingly no where, exploding at the scene. Dani took the chance to immediately leap off the building, and landed in the fray of the undead, she began laughing as she dispatched more undead.
Dani eventually twisted into Gillams direction, defending him from the undead.
"Hi! Im Dani, who are you?" She asked cheerfully, despite this being a battlefield.
Last Edit: Mar 21, 2013 21:25:51 GMT -5 by thenighttwins
Post by The Deathsinger on Mar 21, 2013 21:30:31 GMT -5
((You can go ahead. At this point, Karth doesn't think you're a threat to HIM, since his zombies will more than likely put you down.
He doesn't know you're a PC, though :P))
Karthus destroyed the last of the lit lanterns, plunging the city's wall into darkness once more. As he cast that last spell, he felt the presence of the Ruined King, the Lord of the Undead. Yes....His presence would cement this battle. Karthus floated off the wall and down towards where the Ruined King and the Demacians were, floating several feet off the ground and behind the Ruined King, content to observe for now, but ready to support the King if needed.
Post by Marabelle De'Vera Lightshield on Mar 21, 2013 21:34:09 GMT -5
The spirit had somewhat anticipated that he might make a bold move as to try to disarm her. Those blazing, sea green eyes ignited with phantom flames as the jade stone that hung from her necklace illuminated brightly sending a pulsation of energy in an spherical burst around her. Anyone near her would immediately be thrown back away from her, causing little injury if any. It should be enough to at least force Jarvan back away from her.
The bolt remained leveled upon him as those eyes narrowed threateningly. The tears still fell, but her gaze filled with a murderous glare.
"Jarvan." Came the distorted voice, mixing Belle's natural voice with that of the spirit inside of her. It was a haunting sound, piercing the fog to reach the Prince's ears eerily. The string was pulled back more tightly, turning slightly to send it flying into the head of a random pedestrian fleeing from the chaos of the undead. It would pin the woman's head to the wall of a building nearby, leaving a trembling corpse in its wake instantly.
Another arrow was replaced upon the bow, "For each time you approach me, another will die by this woman's hand." It spoke from Belle's lips, making a point that his attempts to get too close would lead to the deaths of more innocent lives.
As Belle stared at him, the tears that dripped down her cheeks only worsened. The real Belle was sickened by what was happening, but seemed powerless to do anything. Internally she was fighting to push the invading soul from her body, but outwardly it seemed whatever had taken hold had a death-grip on Belle. And it had no intention of letting go anytime soon.
Jarvan yelled in frustration as he was thrown back by the force of the pendant. But, before he could be thrown back too far he struck his lance into the ground and came to an awkward stop. He was horrified though when he saw the soul possessing her kill an innocent pedestrian. "Coward! I am the one you have a quarrel with!" He stood and started thinking hard, he needed to come up with a way to get close to Belle without putting anyone else in danger. Then it suddenly clicked.
The prince smirked as he formulated his plan. "How about I give us some privacy?" Immediately after saying that, he jumped and dug his lance into the ground. A massive stone wall suddenly erected around them and curved in slightly, making it impossible to climb. The wall was breakable, but not by Belle's weak body. "Belle! Break free my love. Think of our future together! You will someday be the queen, and the queen must be strong."
The prince then slowly begins his advance on her again. There was only so far she could back up to try and avoid him now. He felt triumphant in his quick thinking. He would be able to save the woman he loved.
Post by Lucas Brightshield on Mar 22, 2013 4:50:40 GMT -5
((Honestly, I was more concerned about the fact if abominations were still blocking the door. I'll just assume they weren't)) Lucas took his sword, put it in his left hand, catiously open the door and then bursted through it. The first of the undead he met would feel a shield slicing through his chest, while he rushed to the city centre
I am a Pathfinder. I will do what everyone else thinks below him, because someone must do it. Call me dishonorable for it all you want. I serve justice, not honor. And Demacia, ofcourse.
Post by The Ruined King on Mar 22, 2013 6:05:21 GMT -5
((okay... This needs to finish so the plot can carry on.))
The Ruined King's voice whispers into the mind of all those within Demacia, his eyes flaring and the sense of cold dread and isolation enveloped all who heard.
[shadow=red,left,300]"The time of the living has come to an end, your prince refuses to aid his city and instead crawls after the woman he loves. He has abandoned you. My armies march, your armies are crumbling beneath not even a fraction of our strength. What hope do you have against our full strength?" [/shadow] Wings made of bone spread wide from the shadowy figures back, the darkness engulfing Demacia seems to intensify turning it near pitch black.
[shadow=red,left,300]"The undead shall leave this city. You have seen our strength. Submit to the will of the Isle's... Or you will fall and rise a servant.... Raise a sacrifice of your prince, the one who has forsaken you, the one who has proven he is unfit to rule. Sacrifice him and you will live."[/shadow]
I am the one who defied death. I am the one he fears. I am the on he can not take. One sweep of my hand and your nations will fall. Come for me you worms. You will all bow before my legions or be broken beneath us as we march upon your cities.
Post by Marabelle De'Vera Lightshield on Mar 22, 2013 9:12:47 GMT -5
The walls grew up around her with Jarvan's swift thinking, trapping the two within the large barrier with ease. Her aim never faltered, however. It remained true upon him, with a sinister smile growing across Belle's lips.
"You can not protect all those who are innocent." The bow snapped, sending the arrow flying towards Jarvan again. The closer he was, the higher the chance it might hit something more vital. The constant internal battle was the only thing that would keep the arrow from flying true to the evil spirit's aim.
The jade stone pulsated again, an almost screaming glimmer coming from it as darkness started to drip from it instead of the vivid glow of light.
"So much sorrow." Belle said in that distorted voice, "So much pain. So much sadness, and anger. All bottled up inside of her, putting out a weak facade. Every human possesses darkness. Every one will succumb to the will of the Ruined King. You are but a pawn in the grander scheme of things, Jarvan IV."
As another arrow was drawn, it wouldn't be put back in the bow but the sharp tip would instead be placed against Belle's throat. Her heart raced as the malicious being within her taunted Jarvan all the more.
"Don't you want to know her dirty little secrets? I can tell you everything. Or I can kill her, and take her soul back with me. It's entirely up to you, my sweet Prince."
Thresh was pleased, pleased beyond all reason with how things had been going. He had gathered plentiful souls, sowed an untold amount of chaos and terror, and now he had even managed to severely agitate the crown prince. Such delightful misery he had unleashed upon the city, and he was entirely in a position to seize most, if not all of the credit for the assault up to that point. It really was a wonderful thing, he thought, to know that victory rode upon one's own success. At the rate things had progressed, there was nothing that could be done to st-
"Going somewhere, Warden?" came a mocking challenge from behind him, accompanied by the sounds of someone surging forth from the mists.
Caught off guard by the sudden surprise attack, Thresh swiveled on his heel with a start and swung the Lantern like a massive flail to meet his attacker. His haunted implement impacted against what had to be an oncoming weapon with a resounding crash, the two blows striking with enough force to push both combatants away from one another. The mist dispersed around their forms as the two combatants shifted away, revealing the stout, dwarfish figure of the famous Iron Ambassador.
"Well now," Thresh rasped with a hearty chuckle. "Your might is impressive, but I would ill-advise this attack. You would not harm a humble herald returning to his master, hm?"
All the while, Thresh began to steadily wind up his scythe. Nothing was stopping him from making his exit from the veritable hive of self-righteousness, not even a pipsqueak diplomat playing at the part of the hero.
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