DrowsyPangolin

When the Flames Die

Sophia ran beside Gareth, seeing the tears in his eyes, her own efforts to prevent a breakdown gave out. "I don't know. I don't know what we can do, there's no way out Gareth. I'm so sorry... I don't know what to do. I can't... I just... can't." The girl's breathing quickened as she ran. She could feel her chest heaving and the warm salty tears pouring down her face. The night around them surrounded them in darkness. The shadows seemed to personify the dread that hung around them. Hopelessness consumed the pair.

Eva shook slightly, her orange eyes glowing in the night. "Here!" She shouted, turning a corner. The group suddenly found themselves in the palace garden. Several trees lined a small cobblestone path, and a plethora of flowers, bushes and other such plants filled the surrounding area. She pulled Sophia off of the path, motioning for Gareth to follow them. They came to a shady area beneath a large oak tree. Eva came to a stop, releasing her grip on the princess' wrist. She looked between her two companions. They were just children, they didn't deserve this, but their panic was extremely inconvenient for the current situation. Eva shook her head, before finally speaking with a calm, but somewhat stern voice. "Both of you need to stop and breathe for a moment. I know this looks hopeless, but if you panic we will die." She looked to the moon for a moment and took a breath. It was time, she'd kept quiet too long. "Princess Sophia, I apologize, I've kept some things from you." Sophia's eyes widened. "But first... Gareth. I appreciate everything you've done to help us, but I need to know you won't breathe a word of this. You can't tell a soul, you understand me, yes?" The Tauran woman twirled the dagger in her hand, watching around the garden for any sign of movement.

When the Flames Die

:( :( :(

When the Flames Die

Jezin struggled, trying to rip the dirk from the man's hand and strike again, but he had lost too much blood. All he managed to do was pull it from his opponent before it slipped to the floor. He glared at the man as he spoke, his grip on the wrist loosening. He gurgled out a few words, blood still dripping from his lips. "No... but they will find you." He slumped to the ground, his vision blurring. Everything was slipping away. He had failed. Everything he had lived for had been snatched away from him. At least Sophia had escaped, for now. He'd bought her time, but time wasn't good enough. A single tear fell from the bodyguard's eye, rolling down his blood-stained face. He slipped back, off of the sword and onto the ground. As his vision blacked out, he managed to whisper one last phrase. "Sophia... I'm so sorry."

When the Flames Die

Jezin's rage-induced charge had been too fast to bail out of. As he made the stab with the dirk, he realized he had sealed his fate. All his faith, all his devotion to Sophia, all the vows he had sworn, and all the pride in his heart were for naught. The tip of the longsword struck the same area where he had been stabbed earlier, easily piercing through the damaged mail. The bodyguard felt a pain worse than any he had ever felt as the cold steel of the sword made it's way through his armor and into his chest. The blade skewered through him, going clean through his torso and out through the back of his cuirass. His eyes widened, and he coughed as blood poured from his mouth. The man had made a fatal strike. Feeling consciousness slipping away, Jezin made a last ditch effort. All the rage in his heart spurned him on. He forced himself forward, moving further and further along the blade. Blood now soaked his shirt and armor, pouring out onto the ground. The pain was unbearable, but he could not let this man leave. If he had to die, he would take Sophia's pursuer with him. He felt his chest touch the guard of the man's longsword. Dropping his own blade, he grabbed the man around the wrist. A smirk crossed his face, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. Clenching his hand tightly around his enemy's wrist, he raised his left hand, gripping the dirk, and plunged it towards the center of the man's throat.

When the Flames Die

Jezin cursed as the man escaped his grip, but he had done what he intended, he had crippled the agile fighter, at least somewhat. Seeing an opening as the man rose to his feet, Jezin grabbed the sword he had dropped to the ground and plunged forward, finding his footing, but also feeling a deep ache in his wounded ankle. He made an upwards diagonal swing in an attempt to knock the man's weapon out of the way and quickly jabbed the dirk towards where he believed the man's heart to be, though he was beginning to wonder whether normal human anatomy was even applicable to the situation. The man had taken hits that would've incapacitated an ordinary man by now. What exactly was he fighting?

Uldor, Land of Glory. (High Fantasy)

Fitch frowned a bit when Louis told him to shut up. "I'm sorry captain, just trying to make a bit of conversation." He chuckled. He smirked when Arisu commented on the harpoon. He turned in his chair and took on a tone that he thought made him sound more intelligent. This thought, of course, was entirely false. "Well, you see, Miss Arisu, there are certain problems that can only be solved with a harpoon. I mean, let's say you come face to face... face to beak... tentacle... anyway, so say there's this kraken, right? Well, what you do is, you chuck this harpoon right into his eye, see, and he dies, and then you've solved your kraken problem!" He beamed, his cheeks a bit rosy from all the rum he'd drank. "Harpoons are quite useful."

When the Flames Die

Jezin felt the knee strike him squarely in the crotch, and gritted his teeth from the pain. He saw the man kick out at him, and lower his body as much as possible. The kick struck his shoulder and then slid over. In an instant, the bodyguard wrapped his free arm around the man's thigh, trying his best to hold the leg in place, if only for a moment. He ripped the dirk from the man's arm, making numerous stabs at the man's thigh, knee, and shin with a feral fury. He was attempting to cripple his opponent with the flurry of stabs. He shook his head back and forth, trying to avoid the man's hands if at all possible. He couldn't allow the man to get close to his eyes. The pain from his wounds was multiplying. He had to end this quickly. He couldn't help but feel this... thing really was more than human. Nothing he did seemed to have any effect.

Eva caught up with Gareth and the Princess, her eyes darting around. She knew very little about their surroundings, and it seemed they had potential enemies everywhere. "I... I don't know. There's no one here we can trust, that's a given..." She cursed to herself. "Anywhere. We need to get as far away as we can, at the very least." She glanced towards the princess. Sophia ran frantically, glancing around. They were right, there was nowhere to flee to, it seemed. If only they had simply listened to Walden... She remembered what the man had said before they escaped. His words haunted her. She felt dread descending on her like a thick fog. There was no escape. Why did all of this have to happen? Why now? She felt Eva grip her wrist. "Hold it together, princess, we'll make it through this."

When the Flames Die

Jezin didn't hesitate when the attacks struck but caused no damage. He was running almost entirely on rage at this point, such things were trivial. He would stop when the man was dead. He saw the man move his sword between his thighs, in that instant, he made a bizarre maneuver. He pushed himself forward, and onto his opponent, making an effort to tackle the man to the ground, moving in the same direction as the man's attack lessened the force, and moved his leg farther from the edge, but he still felt it cut, although probably not nearly as deep as the abomination that stood before him intended. At the same time, he flipped the dirk in his hand and stabbed downward towards the man's eye, dropping Tyler's hand-and-a-half sword as he did so. The now free hand reached forward, aiming to grip his enemy's sword arm and hold it in place so a suitable counter couldn't be made.

When the Flames Die

Jezin cursed aloud as the man flipped over his strike. He was too agile. His attack was much too fast for Jezin to counter, and he felt the blade of the dirk strike his ankle. His boots were thick, and metal plated, but even such boots were thinner in the ankle area to allow more mobility. The dirk struck true, though the thickness of the boot impeded it's progress greatly. Jezin winced, falling to one knee and in an instant tearing the weapon from his foot. He flipped the blade in his hand, grabbing it by it's hilt. He stood up again, taking a few steps back, with a noticeable, though slight, limp. He looked down at the weapon in his hand, now smeared with his own blood. The man's attack had wounded him, and had inhibited his mobility, but it had also armed the bodyguard with a weapon he was slightly more used to. He took a few steps forward, his face as blank as stone, shaking his head. As he neared the man, he stopped, and bared his teeth. He shouted as he lunged forward, partially from anger and partially from the pain that now consumed his ankle. Feints wouldn't work, that was obvious. He swung Tyler's sword in a swift horizontal strike towards the man's arm, lunging his off hand under and making two lightning-fast stabs towards his opponent's gut with the dirk.

When the Flames Die

Annnnnnd we've hit necrophilia. Bravo everybody, I think we can close up shop.