Saiyan Member
STATUS: Looking for action 5 yrs ago
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@SaiyanIf no one saves Zell then I'm killing him off. Just so you know
bastard lol anyone! You're free to control Zell, just don't let xenon kill my character
My anger is my armour! My hate is my weapon!
Zell allowed the Orc Heavy to overextend. Block. Combined with slight sidestep. The orc stumbled past as Zell brought his sword around to deliver a violent hamstring. The orc fell, Zell stepped down on his back and finished him. He could feel the rage building - the pain going away. Good.
No.
Before he re-engaged, he realised that half of the thoughts in his head were not his own and growled with frustration as he pulled himself back.
Attack!
No. Defend.
Kill!
No. Protect.
He had to shake the haze of dissonance from his head. He could not continue with this kind of confusion. A tribesman rushed him. Two parries and a counterstrike. Simple work. What was harder was keeping the fury at bay.
Zell looked over to where Fenna was. The older woman might just be the only person in this world whose mere presence could make him behave himself. And now, he saw MacKensie was with her too. Like the cool breeze that came with Undaya's blessing, Zell was awash with a calm that cancelled out his anger. His priorities immediately came back to him. He was a frontliner. His job was to protect. This was better. But such sobriety also came with the physical pain of his injuries. And fear that all of his friends may not survive this ordeal. Maybe not a single one of them.
A look over his shoulder made him aware that the enemy were in the city streets. A glance at where the Right Wing had formerly been, showed why. Teeming - packed with the enemy. They were pushing against the Centre. Charging down the stairs and into the streets with no resistance. Zell could do nothing more than jump back into the thick of things, on the wall, and hope for the best. Had he been in control of the garrison, he would urgently pull back the remainder of the forces - to hell with a steady, tactical retreat. If they did not move soon, there might be no way back to the second line of defense. But he was not in control. He just had to do his job. And hope for the best.
Hope. Fear. Analysis. It would be so much easier to let the hate flow and just... be.
Fuck you, Baphomet. In his mind, the Englishman and the Oblivion Prince stared eachother down stubbornly. Fuck you.
Fortunately the order for retreat came. A couple minutes early, thank fuck. But strange that the order did not come in the form of Commander Thorn's booming voice. It came from a flare on the front. Someone had made an executive decision. Vice Commander Jeremiah, probably. Whoever it was, Zell blessed them.
And speaking of blessings...
The Black Sword lit up with holy fire. Baphomet was pissed. James had done Second Chance a solid.
"Lions! Protect the stairs!"
The Lions switched to defensive fighting and covered the nearby steps, with open ranks to allow other blocks to pass through and get down from the wall as smoothly as possible. Another Lion was killed. And then another. With each block that disengaged, the fighting became more and more difficult. On top of that, the fear that replaced his anger added to the weight of mental pressure - The struggle to keep Baphomet at bay. Zell had to keep his head here. He could ill afford to give in to his rage when a precise retreat would be required. When consideration of what was best for those around him, was needed.
He spared a glance over at the Falcons and Rabbits, to see their progress. He would not leave without seeing that Fenna and MacKensie had safely disengaged. And once they were on their way into the street:
"Lion! Retreat!"
...
He arrived at the next crossroads and looked all ways before making a quick decision. "This way!"
The narrow backstreets were a maze, but the main roads were fraught with danger and there was no time to get caught up in a skirmish. The Bazaar was a fair distance away. Perhaps half the length of the city away. But it felt even longer, there in the backstreets. After the first ambush by a roaming group of orcs and goblins, paranoia added to the fatigue. They had dealt with the group pretty quickly, it was only a small squad, but now every corner felt like a danger-point for them to be ambushed. The heat of a city on fire radiated. The noise of the shouting and fighting rushed through the streets and alleys like the wind.
Several blocks of soldiers converged on a wider street that appeared clear. The Lions followed with the crowd, Zell barking orders to keep together. Then came another ambush. And this one was deadly.
The explosion ahead hair-dryer’d Zell's face. Windows smashed with the force. Fireballs had come down from the rooftops and laid waste to everyone unfortunate enough to be under the pyromancers on the rooftops. Chaos erupted.
"Left turn!" Zell thundered, pointing his sword at the alleyway that ran south . "Quickly!"
Another fireball came down, the explosion even closer. Soldiers bumped into eachother as they pushed and shoved to get away. Zell stood firm and urgently gestured to the alleyway, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Lions! Gooooo!"
And then he saw a pyromancer appear above them - on the roof of a small building - and the red mage was looking right at them. GO! Zell thoughts raced. SAVE YOURSELF! But his thoughts were not his. WHAT ARE YOU DOING! The Pyromancer began doing the hand motions to cast a fireball. TURN AROUND! Zell's feet moved automatically. YOU FOOL! The fireball manifested and began to grow in size. YOU FOOOOOOL!
Mere moments before launch - fireball hovering above the pyromancers raised right hand - Zell appeared on the roof, right beside the mage.
[[Teleportation.]] His last one left.
"Arrrgh!" the Pyromancer cried out as the Black Sword cut straight through his forearm.
Zell managed to snatch, out of the air, the severed hand at the wrist, fireball still hovering above the palm. Then he pointed hand'n'fireball like a gun, point blank at the Pyromancer. The force of the explosion smashed more windows and did damage to the nearby brickwork, but the soldiers below were saved.
Both the pyromancer and the swordsman were blown off the roof. Zell went flying across the street and hit a house before gravity took his ragdolled body and he hit the ground.
He looked dead. The second in command of the Lions took charge and got their block out of there. There was no time for gratitude or sentiment. They could be thankful once they were safe at the Bazaar.
got a fun idea, but it's gonna require someone bailing Zell out afterward lol im just gonna post and hope one of you have the heart to rescue the party idiot
Drink. Rend. Reap.
The goblin was skewered with such force that the hilt of the Black Sword hit the creature's abdomen. For a split second before death, that goblin would come eye to eye, nose to nose with Baphomet's Champion. In this moment, with red eyes full of pain and fear, and green eyes full of rage and hatred...
It was difficult to tell who the monster was.
"...Rrrgghaaa!" Zell lifted the goblin off the ground slightly as he kept pushing and charged a few steps into a group of corrupted tribesmen. A two-handed grip switch to one-handed and he smashed his fist into the ugly green face of the lifeless corpse that slid off his sword. The sequence saw him spin, his green cloak whirling into the face of one tribesman, temporarily blinding the wall-assaulter, while Zell freed his sword in time to block an incoming strike from another. They could not resist him. One by one, he put them all to slaughter. All who stepped to him.
While it looked like Zell was an invincible wrecking ball, racking up a kill score worthy of a professional Call of Duty player, upon closer inspection, one would see that the brand-new steel pieces of his armour were full of nicks. The leather parts were full of cuts, some stained with Zell's blood. His aggressive approach - (that had progressed to careless and now full-on beserker) - was not without it's drawbacks. Fortunately for him, Zell had always been a meathead gym-bro. He was strong and tough, and this magical world had saw fit to accentuate those characteristics of his. But it was not just his front line adventurer Class that was powering him now. With every day that passed, it would seem that the Oblivion Prince of Might saw fit to dripfeed Zell more of his power. The angrier Zell got, the easier it was to ignore pain.
Unbeknownst to the Captain of the Lions, things had gotten hairy on the wall, with the sheer weight of numbers beginning to crush the retreating defenders. Sure, Zell had heard the orders for the tactical retreat, but he was not about to bother himself with the overall strategic picture of the battle. As long as The Lions were to stay on the wall, Zell's only concern was killing. And so Zell did not notice that when the defensive line was stretched too thin and the Right Wing were ordered to close ranks with The Centre, friendly faces were nearby.
"!!!" When he saw Fenna, it was like static-shock sounded off in his brain.
All of the anger drained from his face and he stared at the Captain of the Falcons for second as he started to realise all of the important things about who he was and why they were in this situation. It actually amazing that he'd even forgotten - or maybe 'shoved into the very back of his mind,' would be a more appropriate phrasing. He had friends, he had a mission to figure out why they were all in this world. He had mother, a sister, a father... he was a goofball macho dumbass. He was halfway in love. How had all this so easily just faded into distant memory?
"Agh!" Quick reflexes, but not quick enough. He'd grabbed the wrist of the dwarf and stopped the dagger going into his waist too deeply, but nevertheless it pierced flesh. Notably, it actually hurt.
Zell managed to twist and drive his sword into the dwarf, whose strength waned quickly after and Zell was able to pull the dagger free from his waist. "Dammit."
No time for standing around staring. Back into the fighting. But now with sobriety. He had a city to defend. He had his Lions to lead. He had friends to see at the end of this.
He's a grizzled veteran
(just came to mind now lmao)
nothing more murican than Adam exercising his 2nd Amendment right in another world
(yeah lol im all out too)
<Snipped quote by Zapdos>
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There was a delayed reaction when Zell decapitated the giant orc. There was a small section in the back of Chip's mind that wondered if everyone was as shocked as he was.
This part of Chip - which seemed to operate with soberness and logic whilst the rest of his body was engulfed in the nerves and adrenaline of the loud battle - this part in the back of Chip's mind had been really rather uncomfortable as Chip stood by Biff and Kipper, watching the duel between the two Captains of each side. Uncomfortable and speechless. Who was this man and what had he done with Captain Zell?
Zell Brooks: A man with an easy laugh, an easier smile, a charming arrogance and witty lines. A man who had made the Lions feel about as confident and secure as they had any right to be, in the days leading up to the battle. He'd brought them all together instantly, by giving them a reason to call themselves Lions. By talking them - mostly strangers - into loving eachother like family.
But this was not the same man. All of those qualities were replaced by one dominant force... rage.
And were Chip's ears working correctly? Did he hear the name 'Baphomet' out of the mouth of his Captain? When Zell teleported, behind the mutant orc and onto the battlements, only to jump off into a 360 slash that took the monsters head clean off, Chip was sure Zell had called out to the Devil. Maybe it was just in Chip's head - a figment of his imagination mixed with the sensory overload of battle and the shock of seeing Zell in this rage-state.
What was not in his imagination, however, was what Zell did during the delayed reaction as the mutant orc's headless body fell to it's knees and then keeled over. With the thumb and palm of his gloved left hand, Zell, in one smooth motion, wiped the blood from his katana and then... licked the orc blood from his glove! One giant lick of his tongue, hand moving across his face, staining his mouth, nose and chin with ichor. And then he looked at the Lions who were watching and Chip saw the crazed wide eyes of a frenzied madman. Like a Wildling from the Badlands of the Southeast. A soulless menace, devoid of thought and fuelled by nothing but fury. Horrifying.
He roared. Like the Lion he was. And Biff, Kipper... Chip too... they roared with him.
And just like that, the delayed reaction was over. It had all lasted mere moments - even the duel itself was only, roughly, a minute long - but it had felt like forever. The Lions charged before the orcs on the other side of Zell, giving the defenders the momentum in their small portion of the chaos on the walls of Valhiem. Once again they were fighting like everyone else, incited and enraged alongside their Captain. Chip was once again loud and bloodthirsty, eager to slay these disgusting creatures who dared threaten to destroy his home.
The shock of seeing the dark side of Captain Zell, faded into insignifance.
Biff, Chip and even the youngster, Kipper had stayed close throughout the start the fighting. It was a hectic affair, but a general pattern could be surmised: Biff would engage the enemy in front (usually an orc,) head-on. Chip look to stab them while Biff had their attention. Kipper would stand behind and make sure no goblins moved in to try to do to Biff what Chip was doing to the orcs.
It was working decently well.
On the whole, The Lions had started exemplary. Captain Zell, the Valhiem veterans, Biff and Thomas, and a surviving soldier from Dantuin, fallen city in the east, called Jordash... these four were pushing at the front, right in the thick of things, leading The Lions against the first siege tower's orcs and goblins. Everyone else was moving up behind, staying in formation, keeping flanks covered and conservatively stabbing at the enemy. When the ladders hit, many worked together to successfully kill the climbers as they came and kept their section of the wall clear.
Thomas fell after taking a brutal hit to his side, under his arm. He was dragged back into the safety of the crowd, coughing up blood and leaking profusely. Alive - thank the Quinity - but he was out of the battle for good, without doubt. Jordash, Biff and Captain Zell maintained the tip of the spear with courage and prowess, while the least experienced Lions (minus Kipper) helped get Thomas off the wall and to the foot of a mage-platform ladder, where they could call for a healer.
For those near the orc heavies, the fighting was fierce and relentless, with no end in sight. Chip was already breathing hard as he stepped in and out, his sword-arm burning with lactic acid as he did the same move over and over, looking for an opening to critically wound Biff's opponent so that Biff could finish the job quickly. There were few weak points in the orc's heavy armour, but Chip had come to learn that the neck and also under the arm was a sure bet for his sword to meet flesh. Chip's throat was sore from the constant shouting of vile insults that everyone was taking part in - something that kept the anger flowing and the fear at bay. Biff was amazing - skilled and disciplined, taking down enemy after enemy. Chip knew that his friend was strong, but seeing him here brought a new level of respect for the big guy who was usually pretty laid back and affable.
"Take that you twat!" Kipper shouted as he shuffled around and caught a goblin trying to sneak attack Biff. The young Lion's sword sliced deep on the forearm of the goblin who reeled back and screamed. Biff saw the wounded goblin and killed him outright.
"Nice one, Kipper!" Chip shouted, eyes darting around the chaotic scene as he stuck doggedly to his tactic.
Captain Zell was utterly astounding. Chip could barely see him, the swordsman had pushed so far into the enemy. But he could definitely hear him. Shouting, roaring and grunting, non-stop - his green cloak fluttering and black sword swishing everywhere as he cut down a record-number of orcs and goblins.
As the minutes wore on, The Lions began to take more casualties. Men, elves and dwarves who were fighting for the Witch Queen started to get a footing on the wall. Another siege tower had docked at the wall, not far from them, preventing the allied archers from supporting their plight. Chip didn't see any Lions get killed but he guessed that someone must've died. Ten-fifteen of their block had been ushered out of the fighting and down the wall for healing. Their was action all around them now. The intensity had ramped up.
...
From the original siege tower that the Lions were fighting, something huge was struggling to get out, crouch walking and using a hand on the roof to pull itself through. As it's head got clear, it finally appeared and rose to it's full commanding height. It looked every bit of seven feet tall. Every bit of it. Head to toe in full-plate, helmet n all. It's sword was fucking ridiculous, making a greatsword look like a skinny toothpick. Zell thought the gangplank was going to break under the weight of the bastard. The Englishman was pretty sure he heard the wood crack.
The enemy around Zell backed off to let this monstrosity into the fight. It was... an orc... Zell guessed. But maybe half-ogre? Or just a fucking mutant? An peripheral orc tried to get a free shot at Zell who was awaiting the first move from the monster. Zell managed to parry the attack and throw and few swings in return, pushing the orc onto it's backfoot. And then Zell's attention was taken by the monstoristy again, as it engaged Jordash Sigmar, a reliable soldier, the first clash of blades knocking Jordash's sword flying out of his hand and over the battlements.
"No-!"
Zell barely got his word out as Jordash took a grizzly downwards strike from the giant orc. The man from Dantuin who had survived not only the fall of the eastern city, but skirmish after skirmish to protect the refugees and get them to Valhiem... he was dead instantly.
"Kipper get back!" Biff shouted as he tentatively stepped to take the place of Jordash.
Zell stopped him, pulling him back by the shoulder, eyes on the monster the whole time. This would be his fight. Fighting slowed almost to a complete stop in the immediate area. Everyone around was still fighting but those who were on the very front of the contact between orc heavies and Lions, had pretty-much come to a halt, watching as the mutant orc and the captain of the Lions faced off.
The monster twitched and Zell exploded into action...............
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