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    1. Saiyan 5 yrs ago
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shit xenon smh literally a month ago we were talking about family n stuff, with me getting ready to be a dad in a few months. I was gonna try to stay with the RP but I see you made a different choice. Good on you, bro. I rate your decision tbh

That being said, I am sad to see this story end. It's easily been one of the best RPs I've done. Everyone has been a blast to write with, Zell was definitely a worthy addition to the roster of characters I've done over the years. And Xenon is the best GM ever. Top notch at freestyle and planning both.

I'll miss you all o7 later
...


This was not good.

Downward diagonal strike to hit neck. Enemy down. Parry, spin, waist hit. Dodge and finish. Enemy down.

Zell looked to his left. Too many were getting past him. The distraction caused him to get caught - "Agh." - a thigh shot that could've been worse if not for his armour and his 'better-late-than-never' block. Time for return fire! Three hit combo. The first strike of the three blocked. The last two landed. Finish. Enemy down.

Zell took off to his left, adrenaline allowing him to ignore the pain of his fresh wound. With his left hand, he let fly the knife that had been strapped to his chest piece, catching an orc in the neck, then dove into a spinning sweep to take a charging knight off his feet. He didn't even get time for a coup de grace - he was immediately defending three attackers.

More enemies passed him.

It is time, he (Baphomet) thought. The defence may collapse any second.

Zell growled and exploded into a rapid series of parries and counters, quickly taking down one of his three opponents, giving him more freedom to beat back the other two. He was getting angry. Angry that they were losing. Angry because he did not want to give up his soul. Ironically, this anger only drew him closer to the devil. It helped him ignore his wounds and made his strikes more powerful. It also made weakened his resistance to Baphomet.

Now... was the commanding thought. Before there is nothing left to save.

He had to. "Alright!" he shouted aloud in frustration as he crossed blades with yet another of the countless enemies. "Do it!"

Repeat after me... Hoc tibi corpus meum - (I hereby give you my body.)

"Hoc tibi corpus meum," he strained as he was brought to one knee by the weight of an orc greatsword crashing down on his blade. With all his might he pushed it back up and away, then fought back.

Hoc tibi dabo animam meam. - (I hereby give you my mind.)

"Hoc tibi dabo animam meam." Little did Zell know, the whites of his eyes turned full red.

The final declaration: Ex hoc tibi anima mea. - (I hereby give you my soul.)

Zell backpedalled, his eyes darting left and right as he prepared to defend against two more knights. He took the last second of breathing room to glance over his shoulder at his friends. Once strangers to him. Strangers brought together by the craziest of circumstances. But they were fast friends. And now, he would do anything for them. No sacrifice was too great.

Say it!

This was for them.

"Ex hoc-"

“Any ideas, captain?”

The vampire's voice was enough to interupt him. The question to James was enough to make him delay. Did his best friend have an answer?

ZELL!! Baphomet's booming voice had taken the place of Zell's inner voice. The devil was too angry to disguise his words. It shook Zell's skull and he barely held off his enemies.

No. He had to wait for James answer.

"THIS IS JAMES SIRUIS! ALL UNTIS RETREAT! MOVE ONTO THE NEXT PART OF THE PLAN!"

The next part of the plan. There was hope yet. He just had to trust. Keep his faith.

His eyes returned to their normal colour.

You are going to die.

Zell ignored him and began backing away with parries and blocks as he safeguarded a retreat, until only the frontline was left. Then he ran.
back o7 looks like I didn't miss much. I'll get a post up soon
<Snipped quote by AvaP>

The whole post was great and you really nailed it with The Bats. Always feel free to use them or anything else I make, I am glad you felt comfortable with using them, really loved the post.


@AvaPi'll second that. nicely done, mate o7
shit lol adding the Fenna react, one sec


As soon as he saw the flash of blue and gold zoom under and between the legs of the ogre, Zell knew what was up. Two seconds later and the massive beast was going down like a felled tree in a forest, MacKensie surfing the ogres head to the ground and Zell carefully avoiding being flattened.

As always, the synchronicity of the duo from Europe was on point. MacKensie repeater-fired off a half-dozen shots while Zell dislodged The Black Sword from the ogre ribs. Black blood burst forth as the blade came free, and the dark ichor whipped into the air as Zell swung the instant he could, delivering a mean parry that took one knight completely off balance. Zell was able to kill an orc in quick succession, skewer the off-balance knight and leave The Black Sword in the body, trading his weapon for the dead knight's polearm, transitioning into a new fighting style and stance suitable for the longer weapon.

Bolts flew over his shoulder, Zell having no fear whatsoever that the French sharpshooter would mistakenly hit him. Hell; he'd felt the wind of more than one bolt of hers whistle past his ear. Miss Stiff-as-a-Plank could certainly be mischievous when she wanted to be. No, he feared not, merely focusing on the sweeps and swings of the polearm in his hands as he wielded it expertly against his foes, in perfect concert with the Frenchwoman behind him.

"Are you okay?" MacKensie asked him, over his shoulder.

"On top of the world, doll!" he replied cheerfully as he fought. "Ppreciate the assistance."

"Alright, good luck."

Between the length of the polearm and MacKensie's shooting, the two had managed to create a slither of breathing space by the time MacKensie departed. Zell was about to get The Black Sword back from the corpse next to him, but not before, "James!" He threw the polearm like a javelin in the direction of his best friend, where two orcs had gotten through their defence and were charging the back line. The flying polearm was a one-shot kill, leaving only a single orc for James to deal with, which would be no problem for cleric, considering how the Mexicano handled his anchor.

Zell repositioned himself back in line with Barracker, but edged a little closer to James, to narrow the gap where the two orcs had broken through.

"Hey, mate!" he shouted. "How about these fucking ogres, eh... reminds me of the day we met. I'm feeling a little Bro-mantic, right now! Ha!"

...

The bridge shook with a rumble that felt like something big was coming. Zell was just about to swing but his desire faded as he and even his opponent looked around nervously. The Englishman shoved his left hand hand down into the handhold of the buckler hanging on his belt. He suspected the small, flimsy shield would not be enough to stop whatever was coming, but perhaps it might shave a little damage off.

Then it happened.

The burst of light drew the attention of everyone around him. Over his shoulder he saw Fenna looking like some kind of angel from heaven - a valkyrie of war - standing, spear in hand, wowing all who witnessed.

"Christ," Zell whispered, awestruck, a quarter-turn so he could regard her sidelong. He could not find words to express his wonder, for this looked and felt like something else entirely - beyond any display of power they'd seen yet.

And it was coming from one of their own. Fenna.

When she acted, everyone seemed to take an involuntary step back. Maybe it just Zell. She pointed her spear and the beam shot out like a rail-gun blast on steroids. Zell followed the path of the beam to the mountain but didn't even have time to see what happened, because the moment the light faded, Zell turned to look back at Fenna and saw her drop to her knees.

Oh shit, Zell knew the fighting was about to restart and instantly it did. "Fenna!"

Fortunately, there was no cause for immediate alarm as the tough-as-nails Dutchwoman lifted herself to her feet. Zell clocked the blade coming his way, from the corner of his eye and blocked, locking crossed swords with an orc who he managed to push back, sneak a peek back at Fenna to be sure she was back fully with them, then throw himself back into battle.

...

The Lions were not close to the breach that had manifested in the Bazaar, but as soldiers on the ground and archers on the rooftops turned their attention to plugging the gap, the defence in the Lions' vicinity had thinned and things became tougher. Everyone was exhausted by this point. There'd been no real rest since the early hours of the morning when the sirens went off. First, the run across the city to get to the wall and form up. Then the fighting which felt like hours. Then the run back across the city to retreat to the Bazaar. Now, endless skeletons and zombies. It was, for most of the block, a new experience that had sapped their mental and physical energy dry.

Mistakes were bound to happen.

With the orcs, goblins and corrupted tribesmen, it was at least a proper fight, with both friend and foe trying to attack and defend - hit and not get hit. These skeletons cared nothing for their own safety! Which, in one way, made them easier to kill. But in another way, made it so much more dangerous because any little cut or bite or punch they could manage, they'd risk life and limb for. And no matter how many you killed, more took their place and they were not perturbed or deterred in any way, shape or form.

All it took was a single break in concentration and an injury was sustained. Lions were dead on the floor amidst the pile of twice-dead skeletons. The piles of corpses messed the battle lines up. Skeletons would sometimes look dead, but then strike a Lions' foot with their sword and the result was usually death.

Slowly but surely, the numbers of the Lions dwindled. But they died fighting for Valhiem. Ares, God of Fighting, would be proud. As were the brothers they fought alongside.


As James relayed battleplans, everyone listened. Like him, Alison was also stood next Second Chance's leader, on the other side. Her body language and the way she talked told Zell that she was not just proficient in the tactical and strategic elements of combat, she was into it too. Another reason for him to like her. Another reason why they needed to win. And live. And see another another day. Have another drink together.

"Yeah, we'd be best off in the middle," Zell agreed with James' assessment and drew out a triangle on the table with his finger. "If we are positioned a little forward of the line. Create a wedge formation. Then we'll take a little pressure off of Evermere and the Silver Arrow, while they keep our flanks covered."

His determined eyes sought approval from James and Alison. He was confident in his own knowledge of battlefield tactics but there was always a chance he was missing some factor that they had spotted. As for their two fellow adventurer parties, the leaders of which had shown up for the quick briefing, Zell wasn't too sure how strong they were. Judging by the captain of the Scarabs, who was an Evermere frontliner, Evermere might have been just about strong enough to deal with the cult of Drath'tuthan... maybe. Either way, pretty soon they'd find out just how strong everyone was, on the bridge.

A little more discussion with James having the final word and everything was settled. Zell rapped his fist on the table. "We've got this, guys!"

As captains went to their blocks to relay orders and messages were transmitted to the rest of the Bazaar for where to take up positions, Zell had a brief meet with the Lions. He didn't even realise until now, but none of his block had seen him come into the Bazaar. So all this time, between what happened in the streets and now, they'd thought he was dead. Zell was confused at the reception for a second, then he realised and laughed.

"Ah, come off it. You didn't really think your captain would get taken out by one measly fireball, did ya?" Many thanked him for his quick thinking and life-saving play against the pyromancer. Others were still stunned in awe. "Alright, alright, no worries. Now listen up because we ain't got much time..."

He relayed James' orders of positioning, with the Lions set to hold a handful of alleyways, between the shops, that opened up onto the riverbank. After that, he gave them all some words of encouragement, almost indistinguishable from the team talks he'd given in the past before an important football match. There was a customary series of "Oorah!" chants at the end, then they broke up to hit their positions. Zell was satisfied as he watched them go, until his eyes caught three of his men who had not immediately left and were standing in a huddle. He went over, noticing immediately that it was Biff, Chip and Kipper, three of the more unforgettable personalities in the Lions.

"Wassup boys?" he asked as he approached, but they didn't need to explain. As soon as he saw the young lad, Kipper, Zell figured the situation. The kid was as white as a ghost.

"It's Kipper, Captain," Chip said to Zell. "He's not doing too well."

Zell knew he didn't have time for this, but a quick look around told him that not everyone was done with their briefings so he had a quick minute. They all tried to share a comforting word with Kipper. Chip told him that he was scared too. Biff assured him that he'd stay close and protect them. Zell said that he'd seen Kipper's conduct on the wall and congratulated him for an impressive performance and getting this far. All of their efforts were enough to perk Kipper up a little, but he was still shook. And who could blame the kid.

"Look, mate," Zell put an arm around Kipper's shoulder. "You've read them stories about heroes who do great deeds, right?" Kipper nodded. "And all the awesome shit they do? Kicking ass and looking damn good while doin it? Even gettin the smoking-hot princess at the end?" He managed to get a bit of a smile with the last nod. "Every single one of them heroes in them books... we're fucking shitting themselves with fright, the whole time. The authors don't often tell you about that bit, because it's not very flattering, but I promise you... just like you... just like me, right now... just like Biff and Chip too... shitting... bricks, pal."

Kipper frowned in confusion and looked at them all. Biff nodded. "I'm terrified I'll never see my wife or little boy again."

Chip chimed in. "I can barely hold last night's dinner, Kip."

"But that's what courage is, Kipper," Zell continued. "Courage ain't fuckinnnnn... being fearless. No. That's just fucking stupid. Courage is being scared, but having the will to keep going." Kipper's eyes searched the floor as he took in the words. The colour was at least returning to his face a little. "Look at me... people will write about this day. They're gonna write about you, me, Biff, Chip... all the Lions. And they're gonna tell all about our courage. Because that's what matters. We stood up and faced down what was thought to be unstoppable." Kipper nodded and blinked a few times as his back straightened. "And in the final chapter, Kipper gets a feel of the smoking-hot princess." They all laughed. Even Kipper couldn't help but chuckle. "Alright," Zell decided this was the best he could do and wrapped things up. "Your orders, you three: Stay together. Look out for each other, yeah?"

"Aye, Captain," they all said.

Zell backed away and just before he turned to run and catch up with his party, he told them. "Let them motherfuckers hear you roar."

...

He arrived at the bridge last, but fortunately not too late as to fuck things up. The enemy were lined up across the bridge and chanting. Zell took up his position. Front and centre. The Englishman wouldn't have it any other way.

"Let's fuckin go, lads and ladies!" he flashed a grin at his friends behind him. It felt so good to be fighting by their side again.

With his Source-gifted mental rolodex of combat knowledge, his mind could not decide between Water Stance and Stone Stance. Water Stance was perfect for defending in open spaces against superior numbers, but Stone Stance had all the best counters and he could do with such against the ogres. It turned out that Adam would make the decision easy when the Druid charged across the bridge, crossed past the charging ogres and transformed into a bear, causing chaos in the enemy ranks and leaving a large gap between the ogres and the bulk of the Orcs and Knights.

"Ha!" Zell was pleased and dropped into Stone Stance, then rushed forward to meet the ogre in front and hopefully get the beast's attention so it did not complete a full charge and end up in the back ranks of the adventurers. "Oi, you big ugly bastard!" It worked.

The ogre back-hand swatted Zell with it's machete. Zell took the full brunt of the attack on his sword and slid a metre across the pavestones from the sheer force. The next attack was parried with a smooth counter strike on the arm, but ogre flesh was tough and the strike did nothing to slow the beast down. Orcs came running into the fray as Zell backed up to stay in line with Barracker and re-establish a front line shield. It quickly became a game of; kill as many orcs as possible in between fending off the big, slow attacks of the ogre.

Then an opening appeared. Zell recognised the enchanted arrow of Fenna and blessed the woman for a second time this morning.

He took advantage, dashing in and delivering an awesome combo to a single knee of the ogre. It stumbled and Zell drove the Black Sword into the ogre, up and between the ribs, hoping to catch a vital organ. The ogre howled and Zell gritted his teeth, and exploded with all his might to drive the sword even further into the beast.

It was a risk to get so stuck when other enemies were about and might take advantage, but the prospect of dropping an ogre quickly was too tempting to pass up.

...Meanwhile...

Biff, Chip and Kipper did indeed stay together. They, with a few others, held the mouth of an alley where they frantically hacked at any skeletons trying to climb up from the river. Zell was not lying...

...they were all shitting bricks.
phew, thought id missed the end of the round for a second there lol


Swimming in blackness. Everything in slow motion. Even his disjointed thoughts.

"Come on Zell get your lazy ass up we have to go!" the familiar voice sounded so far away and he couldn't respond.

All he could do was try to swim towards it......................


..............Zell's unconscious self moaned. Soft and brief. The soldier of the Falcons who had Zell on his back could not hear the swordsman over the din of battle........................

...............There was no sense of direction in the blackness. Zell didn't know which way was up. But he tried to swim anyway. His current form was a figment of his mind - a construct of his warrior will. Somehow he sensed this. Somehow he knew that his physical self was knocked out cold. But if he could just swim towards the direction of the familiar voice from before, he might be able to awaken through pure force of will.

"Why do you resist?" Baphomet's guttural, scraping voice was not at all far away. It was loud and all around him. "I have here the power you need to save your friends and yet you spurn it."

Baphomet was a lot of things, but 'wrong' was never usually one of them. Here was no different. It was so tempting. If what he'd felt already was just a taste of the Oblivion Plane's power, then to give himself wholly to this contract with Baphomet would almost assure Valhiem's victory. Zell would be invincible. But the price was high.

"Of course the price is high," Baphomet responded, reading Zell innermost thoughts. Gone were the days when Zell could hide things from the devil. Long gone. "But what does it really matter? You are already dead. This is your afterlife. Whatever heaven you think your family will go to, you will not be there to greet them. And you owe the Quinity nothing. Why would it be so bad to give up your soul for immortality? An everlasting life of battle. Of adventure. Of pleasure. Of fame."

What the hell even was a soul, anyway? He didn't even believe in the value of that hippie shit. What did it matter? It didn't. His life was over with. That busdriver had ended him. All of this? It was just some crazy-stupid video-game shit that wasn't even real. Hell, it might be all just the posthumous imagination of a dead Under-grad. All of these people, these 'friends,' were probably hallucinations. His dream girl, just a dream.

"But, real or not, it doesn't mean that you cannot have them," Baphomet continued. "You can have it all. And it will feel real, whatever 'real' means, to you. Or you can throw it all aw-"


"Zell!"

Zell instantly ignored the devil in favour of another distant but familiar voice. And this one evoked such strong emotion that he didn't need to guess the direction. He could see the light in the blackness. And he swam for it.

As for the Oblivion Prince: Baphomet's disappointment was apparent, but it was clear that he and Zell were coming to an understanding and were close to sealing the deal. He had seen the state of the battle through Zell's eyes and he could see that it was obviously unwinnable. The situation would soon become desperate and Zell would have no other options. Baphomet would have his champion and vessel..................


............Zell stirred and the soldier carrying him noticed. The Englishman opened his eyes, dizzy as hell, and got off the man's back gingerly but in time for MacKensie to crash into him with a fierce hug.

"You stupid idiot." He almost fell over but she kept him up and he chuckled, hugging her back just as strongly. "You stupid, stupid idiot."

"You're a sight for sore eyes, doll. And no mistake." As they halfway let eachother go, he smiled at her. "Am I glad to see you."

He wanted so badly to kiss her, but seeing as that would be incredibly inappropriate for a myriad of reasons, (not least of which was that they were in streets that were about to be filled to the brim with skellies,) he managed to refrain. She helped him the rest of the way, through the checkpoint and down the last stretch of street to the Bazaar. They traded a few snippets of knowledge of the happenings this morning and Zell's battered head also managed to put together the puzzle that Fenna had been the one to rescue him.

"Fenna, pal, you are a walking miracle," he said as they came over the bridge and into the Bazaar. "I owe you one." His grin soon turned to a frown as he and MacKensie's attention turned to their other friend who was in Fenna's arms. "Shit," Zell cursed. Sil was hurt.

When they inquired on Sil's well-being and got the news that the falcon was hurt but would be okay with some healing, they were relieved. Zell parted ways with them to go get some medical attention of his own and thankfully, Fenna's soldier stayed with him because as soon as his adrenaline wore off, he fainted. The soldier managed to catch him and stop the swordsman from whacking his head on the ground for the sixtieth time, then picked him up and carried him to the medical station where he was awoken again.

"Fuck. I didn't faint in front of the girls, did I?"

Typical Zell Brooks.

A tiefling Cleric came to him, in a noticeable bad mood. Zell guessed that she was just feeling the fatigue of overwork. Michael Fern's elven hearing had been keeping a close observation of the Cleric's conduct and overheard Adam direct her to Zell. He went over and introduced himself. "Michael Fern."

"Zell Brooks. Second Chance," Zell returned, reaching out to shake the man's hand.

"Any friend of Adam is a friend of mine," Michael said. "You have a top o' the range Druid on your back line. And with a big heart too."

Zell grinned as, speak of the devil, he saw the American (strangely, with that fucking dickhead, Xavier.) "Yeah. He's one in a million, that guy."

Michael smiled and left to attend to other things. At that point, Barracker showed up. Zell nodded jovially at his fellow muscle-head and brother-in-arms, saying to the Cleric. "Do me a favour and sort out this pincushion next, will ye? He's got more arrows in him than a map with directions. Ha!"

His mood was improving during this lull in the battle. In spite of the desperate situation, just seeing that his friends were okay was buoying up his spirits to no end. All he wanted, in this moment, was to see Alison and of course, his best friend, James. Everything would be right in the world once he caught a glimpse of that permanent scowl and Mexican accent.

He groaned as his broken bones were being reset and cured. He would go and see those last two party members as soon as he could move. For now, at least he could enjoy a laugh with Kass.
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