Freeshooter92

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Indeed.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Alaira Taenn

When Alaira rushed the man, he seemed to somehow miraculously avoid the attack. Even though he saw her coming, her speed was such that to avoid the attack without throwing yourself to the ground was an impressive feat, but not impressive enough. She skid to a halt just after, using her forward momentum to whip around and aim another blow at his skull... And nothing, it didn't connect. She continued this pattern, desperately trying to kill the man before her mind gave out and she was at his mercy. Finally, she managed to land a blow on his midsection... or did she? He had just... vanished without a trace as soon as she struck. The screaming in her head had finally stopped as she stood there, huffing and puffing. She fell to her knees, her mace clattering to the ground as she fell a little ways forward, managing to stop herself from hitting her head on the cold stones as she caught her breath...

The Relics

A wild arturn appears.

@Freeshooter92

*Pokemon battle music begins to play* Also, you get all the bonus points for Blacker fucking Baron.

@Rtron

*high-fives*

The Relics

A wild arturn appears.

The Relics

Isaiah Markul

Isaiah grimaced at the creature's resilience. Soon after he had struck, his distraction gave several warriors time to close distance and engage it without being counter-attacked. He moved, trying to find a favorable position in the chaos among these unknown warriors... No, soldiers. Their armor was far too uniform for simple colosseum warriors, these men belonged to a nation of some sort. But as they didn't bear any of the iconography he'd seen on city guards or the various areas of the city, they must be from somewhere else. It didn't matter though, what did matter was stopping this creature. They fought bravely, but several fell to the monster. He had to congratulate their commander, he seemed fairly able. Despite losses they pushed it back, nearly to the hole. When the commander shouted at him to end it, he pushed aside any irritation at the boy for daring to assume he held any authority over him. Instead, pragmatism won out as he nodded to the man, preparing to do just that. He took a wide, stable stance, holding his arms out behind him. With a groan of effort, he focused. All around him, the rubble began to shake and vibrate as he seized control of as much loose stone as he could. He slowly lifted his arms over his head with supreme effort as a great many stones were lifted a short distance into the air. He swirled his arms, gathering the rocks into a more ordered mass as he stepped forward. He howled out a warning to the warriors in front of him. "MOVE ASIDE! NOW!" He roared, throwing his arms forward as every muscle screamed for him to stop, the effort of moving such a large amount of heavy objects nearly too much for him to take. Luckily, the soldiers seemed to scramble aside at least... The stones were sent hurtling at the creature, and would surely have enough force to knock it into the pit and then bury it. He coughed and wheezed, panting with effort as he looked up. Time seemed to slow as he noticed one of the stones on the tail end of the barrage was... off target, and on a course with one of the soldiers near him. He moved to the side, somewhat sluggishly as his body was on its very last reserves of energy. He shouldered the soldier away, collapsing to the ground. And then... pain. It was if his entire arm was on fire as his head snapped to his side, seeing to his horror that the stone had crushed his hand. He smacked the stone with his other hand, the roughly torso-sized brick flying about a foot or two away as he clutched his ruined arm, his vision starting to fade somewhat, but not completely. He had stretched himself too far...

The Relics

Let's get this party blacker.

Deathwatch, a Madworld/Anarchy Reigns inspired Roleplaying Game

You guys are completely invincible during this phase, and these guys are no match for you. During phases like this, you will describe slaughtering your poor weak foes in as creative a manner as possible, using whatever environmental hazards you can think of. The more elaborate your kills, the more goodies you get. You may use your killer weapons, but in the event something rolls up that can hurt you, you might not have enough uses... And while you don't need your killer weapon to dispose of these fools, uses can be expended to make flashier, more valuable kills. You will be graded according to how fancy you are.

Deathwatch, a Madworld/Anarchy Reigns inspired Roleplaying Game

Announcer

"Well, it's an awfully quiet morning, don't you think? But if our scanners got anything to say, it ain't gonna stay that way..." There is a sound of keystrokes over a short period of relative silence. Soon, the factory sentinel is hiding in comes alive, hazardous machinery whirring and spinning as saws spun, presses got to work, and all manner of other hazards activated. Soon, the factory was filled with the voice of the announcer, above the din of the machines. "For those of you at home, why don't we point out a few key competitors, eh? Well first up, we got this asshole in the bronze armor thinkin' he's all stealthy. A cyborg, probably. Y'see metal-head, there's no sneakin' around when your armor shines like the goddamn sun in this heat. This guy calls himself 'sentinel' for some reason, probably another crazy mech-head. Anyway, we know fuck all about him, but if he wants to move past Unranked he better get some kills. Speaking of, there's a large group of mohawked thugs coming this way..." True enough, the moment he stopped speaking a band of goons rushed in through every possible entrance, doors windows and what-have-you as they began their hunt. The bastards were fairly ragged individuals, but they seemed to operate as a pack, which meant they had a boss. It's likely they weren't worth much, but deathwatch would probably tell Sentinel where their likely Ranked boss was hiding in the event he lived through this and caused some mayhem. They were all normal humans, kitted out like bandits from fucking Mad Max, all carrying tons of improvised melee weapons, not a gun among them. The announcer could no longer be heard as he shifts focus from his command center. "Now that tin man's a little occupied, I'm gonna go check on some other players. If you wanna see how metal-man's fight pans out, you can catch it on feed 2." Suddenly there was the tell-tale screech of speakers that told the people around the area where Cinder and Cryopath were located that they had the announcer's attention. It remained quiet as they spoke, though as various machines and other deadly hazards came alive on the streets, it was clear they were actually listening. Spikes out of the walls, exposed power lines sparking, that sort of thing. "Well, I couldn't have said it better. As they put it, this is Cinder 'Flex' Firestorm and Cryopath, polar opposites yet still partners in the 'batshit insane' sense. While I can't even begin to guess how these psychotics haven't killed each-other, I'm gonna a go out on a limb and say that this deadly alliance of theirs ain't gonna last long." As soon as Cinder started shouting, more crazed thugs began pouring into the streets, rushing the two and hungering for blood. They were similar to the one's Sentinel was facing, but more numerous. They all seemed to be adorned with one tire-pauldron, which would mark them as different gangers...

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Alaira will come later when I feel less physically ill.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Grey Onyx

As Grey left the building, he simply found a spot to set the kid down and sat on a nearby stump. He threw off his gauntlets as he leaned over, resting his head in his hands as he gathered his thoughts on the day. To his surprise, he didn't really have anything. Just a sense of impending dread. Those mages were still out there, but Coco needed medical attention, and the five of them were exhausted. Well... five if you count the guide. But Guide's didn't tend to last very long on jobs like this. His train of thought was interrupted when something slammed into him, scattering blood on his left cuisse, or thigh-plate. He jumped up to his feet and took a step back, but upon seeing the condition of the 'attacker' he did not ready his weapon... The poor bastard babbled at him for some time, and he grew exceptionally irritated when the man insulted his gods. However, he was not irritated enough to consider any act of violence. Before he could respond, Mar and Athalus arrived. Then the survivor decided to make a very bad decision. When he called Mar a monster, he felt his blood boil. Mar had fought just as hard as the rest of them and despite her... unnerving appearance she was no beast. He lifted the guy up by his collar with a growl, and backhanded him. Lucky he wasn't wearing his gauntlets, or he'd have been severely injured. "She fought and nearly died for us! You will not call her a monster again unless you desperately wish to meet your gods!" He shouted in fury, dropping him onto the ground. "I swear to whatever god you worship that if you don't make yourself scarce right now, I will end you myself, clear!?" He turned to Athalus, sighing loudly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "No... I don't. They aren't impaired children, they can be left alone for five minutes. I was simply trying to rest when..." He turned to glare at the man. "Anyway, put that down..." he added quietly, gently placing his hand on the crossbow and lowering it. "He's no threat... the most you'd do is waste a bolt."