Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

Clyde smiled as he pointed out a window towards the Cross Brigade headquarters due west of them, "Oh yes I do... Cross Brigade will be more liable to help us." he said as he began to walk to the door, "Change of plans! We leave now!"

With that, Clyde kicked open the door and flew towards Cross Brigade...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross stood alone, his two silenced pistols ready, "Come and get me Dreadbitch..." he said, replacing 'Dreadmist' with his favored insult towards them.

The door to the compound flew open and shots of lead, steel, and god-knows-what streaked through the air and turned Cross into swiss cheese. He fell to the ground, his blood everywhere.

That had been the cue, all hell broke loose as Cross Brigade attacked en masse. Cross got up slowly, his blood flying back into his body, and the holes patching themselves up. It was a battlefield...

__________________
Give me suffering, pain, anguish, sorrow, and death! For I shall make it my driving force, and from beyond the grave I shall paint the sky red...

OOC: Are the Cross Brigade foot soldiers freely killable?

"Ah, so we do get help afterall," Morgon replied to Clyde as he lept from his position and flow away. She followed him on ground with the other broken that were unable to fly, running as fast as she could, which was pretty fast, towards the boundaries of the Dreamists. Yes, the group that swore to kill all true humans, and any broken that got in their way. The Black Fellowship could not allow such carnage to take place, such a fate is too cruel for those who merely misunderstand.

It wouldn't be long before making it to the lands that housed the Dreamist fortress. Morgon brandished her blade, who needed guns when she could slice up her enemies and guarentee their defeat? Besides, shes fast and strong.

"This way," she order some people that were within earshot, "We go behind the Cross and up alongside to surround the Dreamist scum!"

__________________
Silivalne
Cromine

Those two need your clicks

Click here too! Ithatyne needs you!

Faustus smiled, it seemed that this, Cross Brigade, this rag-tag group of youngsters, these strange Broken who would not take a side. However, they really didn't have a chance.

Faustus turned to his right hand, a woman named Sue. Appropriately, she was dressed in all black, head to toe, covering her lithe female body. Her hair was likewise black, and her soul, as well. "Susan, go get me some food. Find me sustenance, and new powers." As always, his second in command slinked off to do his bidding.

Now, faustus stood, himself, and slowly walked forwards, out of his throne room. He stood high in the room that used to be the lobby of a hotel; twenty stories above the place where his foes would enter. This could be fun.

(Sue is expendable, as an NPC. Feel free to give her whatever power, and kill her off if you wish.)

__________________

(ALL NPCs are expendable... unless something is said otherwise...)

Clyde roared a battle cry as the Black Fellowship swarmed in on the remaining Dreadmist. Everything seemed to be going perfectly, but why did it feel like something was going terribly wrong.

Clyde realized it in an instant, "Morgon! Take two platoons to our base, now!" he roared, spinning and taking off an opponent's head with his foot...

~~~~~~~~

Cross stood alone in the center of chaos, he fired shots rapidly with lethal accuracy. His entire team now lay dead or dying. Finally, he roared something unintelligible and charged, firing even faster, not aiming, but going for death by a thousand paper cuts...

__________________
Give me suffering, pain, anguish, sorrow, and death! For I shall make it my driving force, and from beyond the grave I shall paint the sky red...

As Jamie sat and watched the troops of the Black Fellowsip collide with his own comrades, he began to jup up and down with exitement.

Turning to his reserve squad, he yelled "Come-on, don't you see, they're vunerable."

His men leaped from the rooftop they were standing on, leaping fom building to building.

As they approached the Black Fellowship base, they saw it was deserted.

'"How could they have been so stupid? Think of the rewards. Think of the blood."

The Black Fellowship finally managed to break through the doors to the converted hotel; straight into the arms of the massive force that had been prepared inside. The lobby was milling with "tanks," meta-humans whose powers made them extra strong or invulnerable to normal attacks. The second floor was speedsters and various other support troops; long ago, Faustus learned that a speedster with a machine gun, or a sniper, was a deadly force. They could deploy, kill, and shift before an enemy ever thought of their position. The third floor had projectile attackers, and people whose powers were non-combat, armed with rifles and the like.

Faustus watched as the Black Fellowship hit the wall of Dreadmist, a wave breaking upon the rocks. Most of either group would not survive the day, but Faustus would spend the next few days like a carrion bird, devouring the life force and powers of those who were gravely wounded. He laughed softly to himself; neither group had any idea what this war was truly about.

Broken from his reverie, Faustus watched as one figure from the Black Fellowship rose swiftly into the air; a rare flier. It was obvious that the man was headed for him, trying to take out the obvious leader. Faustus did the unthinkable... when the man was in range, he leapt off the balcony and onto the man's back. The added weight sent the man reeling, and the element of surprise afforded Faustus time to sink his teeth into the boy's neck. Then, the boy dead, Faustus suddenly stopped falling, and let the body drop to its doom. Smiling again, the leader of Dreadmist rose slowly into the air, not the quick or powerful flight of the man who he had drained, but a weakened version thereof. However, it still amounted to levitation, and within seconds he again reached his platform.

Today was a good day; Faustus had always wanted to fly, but fliers were rare enough that he could never find one. Now, he had.

__________________

"You and you, get your men back to base!" Morgon streached to a couple of platoon leaders: one that was a speed-demon and one that was a metel-plated. She then looked up to see Clyde sail above the carnage, where he would be heading is anyone's guess.

After slicing a few Dreamists and almost losing her blades to a telemagnetic lacky, (idiot pulls at blade, Morgon beats idiot up) Morgon was back at the Black Fellowship base dealing with the attack there.

Morgon tighten her grip on her blade and cornered the broken zealots that were attacking the Black Fellowship base. The men of the two platoons would join her to eleminate the Dreamist scum from the base.

<OOC> Was it Clyde that got attacked by Faustus? </OOC>

__________________
Silivalne
Cromine

Those two need your clicks

Click here too! Ithatyne needs you!

<didn't mean it to be Clyde... sorry for confusion. I meant an NPC.>

__________________

Jamie stood above the Black Fellowship base, watching them close in on his men. He could barely contain his exitement, his figers twicthed, his mahcete swirled.

With a giant burst of energy, he leaped form the rooftop, at the same moment, activating his ability to become invisible to the naked eye.

Only a dull thud announced his arrival behind the enemy force. With calmness, knowing no-one could see him, he pounced on the closest Black Fellowship. Slamming his hand onto their mouth, he dragged back their head, revealing the fleshy neck. Food for his blade. With a lightning quick movement, he slashed the blade straight across his victims throat. A fine mist of blood showered across the mass of fighting bodies in front of him.

This is where Jamie belonged. Taking the lives of those opposing him, slaying the traitors.