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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Conscripts
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Steffen Gravinir


The smoke cover signalled to him that his enemy was intent on engaging combat with Serenity with a battlefield of his own choosing. With a few steps backward in extra caution, seeing that was excess, Steffen finally turned around for Gerard, giving one last trust to Serenity, now engulfed in the smoke cover. Once this bastard is felled, that rogue will be next. None of them will be spared.

A few strides quickly turned into a sprint, quickly closing distance with the hammer-wielding Boar, his spear raised overhead with very clear intention. A Boar noted for his reckless bravery decided to be the rampart against that, and quickly learned his last lesson of the mortal life: you do not get in the way of a charging Ingvarr. He did not even came close to slowing down the outlander knight. A rock solid boulder in its descent.

Steffen's normally dull amethyst eyes were lit up with energy, as his step landed in the vicinity of the two fighters just as the Boar finished his swing. Once in, his feet only touched the ground two times. At the last second, his shield locked forward, the metallic spear thrust towards the throat area of the armor, the energy of the charge imbuing his strike with equally monstrous strength. If the spear did not find its target, the larger shield would be the collision point.

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Fleuri Jodeau


Fleuri followed Renar's lead, flanking the beast to the left, opposite the other knight. He agreed with both Renar and Fanilly's assessments- they needed to strike at the legs and bring these things down to the knights' level, put the mutants' vitals within reach of their weapons. They'd almost certainly shrug off any injury that didn't physically cripple or instantly kill them, and they were already no doubt much more durable than an ordinary human.

Judging from their lack of regard for their own companions, these abominations were probably little more than unintelligent war beasts at this point, humanity and intelligence subsumed behind horrific mutation and probably perpetual agony. They were not too dissimilar to the trolls in orc warbands, and he wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what the Golden Boars had taken their inspiration from when they created these...things.

There was no doubt in his mind that killing these things would be a mercy.

With the mutant focusing on Renar, to no avail, Fleuri closed in and slashed his greatsword at its hamstrings- or at least where they should be assuming this thing still had somewhat human anatomy. The abomination probably wouldn't even notice the pain of the blow, but if its legs couldn't physically work any more, it'd come crashing down regardless of how it felt.

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Sergio della Gherardesca


The one I face goes down with little difficulty - the vital spots still seem to fell them as quickly as any other creature. But two more advance, and I'm too slow this time, even with Nicomede's spell. Tremendous force slams into my shield arm even as I decapitate one - crushing force to be exact - and I feel something crack with the pressure. It's difficult to help myself and I scream in pain, but worse, my shield drops out of my fingers. It's difficult to tell in my armour if my arm is truly broken, but either way, it feels disabled.

Backing too far up would leave our quarry exposed, but for the first time in a long time, I feel unsure as to how long I can hold the line for. I try again for a downward strike at the living cursed ogre-beast's head with the pointed end of my weapon, my other arm dangling futilely.

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Tyaethe


The vampire stilled unnaturally, accepting the spear piercing into her abdomen. The mismatch... oh, how confident were they in their little deception, so so sure that it would pass scrutiny? Surely, this must be some amazing exhibition of speed, except they forgot they were dealing with an enemy that was no longer entirely human.

And she could hear heartbeats.

Ahead and behind, two heartbeats just lurking behind their protective screens. It was an impressive display, and no doubt effective if you could arrange for others to shield you to arrange it. But what if your target caught onto it? Well, there was only one way that was going to end, wasn't it? Acting on cue, the paladin spun to face the direction of her latest aggressor, grin invisibly splitting her face.

The duo were still speaking, but it was irrelevantirrelevantirrelevant. Who cared what taunts they had about spotting their 'clever ruse' or whatever it was? The heartbeat behind her was moving, and Tyaethe tensed, waiting...

Her sword swung wildly, the arc carrying it far behind her body. Exactly as intended. Its length was more than equal for some common spearman coming in to pierce her from behind, and no warning had been given.

How would their partner react, she wondered?
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Fionn MacKerracher


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Fionn took the spear in both hands, holding still for a moment longer to observe how the cursed beast moved. Muscles straining against themselves to drive the bulk into motion; skin tearing away as it forced its grossly distorted body in his direction. While its size helped it to cover the ground quickly, there was little chance it could keep up with his nimble, undistorted form; however, all the surplus of overgrown muscle would help protect any vital organs, making it harder to take it out quickly. The weakest spots would be the same as on any human, but far harder to reach.

Now, to find how best to reach them, and return to his original goal.

When the great fists came crashing down upon him, he leapt off to the side, barely a foot between him and the massive hands; once his toes found purchase on the ground again he sprinted forwards, ducking low beneath the behemoth. Once clear of the legs, he turned on the ball of his foot, jabbing the blade of the spear forward and up in a vicious stab for the mutant's groin. A fierce, disabling strike, aimed to sever tendons, muscle, artery, and hopefully bury itself up in the monstrosity's intestines at the end of its travel, if it didn't nick the pelvis instead. The mutant would bleed and fall, and Fionn would put it out of its misery before visiting even fiercer retribution on the Boars' commander.
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The air itself seemed to explode, rushing around her as the enormous bloated leg swung towards her. Several of its toes had been absorbed by the cancerous, curse-filled mass of flesh that composed the creature's foot.

Fanilly felt it tear he air beside her, even as she moved, hurling herself to the side. The sheer velocity of the blow, though the monster was otherwise slow, was enough to lift her slightly from the ground and send her skidding across the clearing.

But she hadn't been hit.

Every move one of the cursed abominations made caused more damage to their skin, their flesh, and yet still they moved.

Fanilly's grip tightened as she threw herself forward.

Whoever these creatures had been, killing them was undeniably a mercy.

As the monster recovered from its kick, she aimed squarely for its ankle. She'd sever the tendon, bring the abomination down, and show it mercy.

Her sword flashed---!




The knife-wielding mercenary could hear well enough what had happened to his knives, even over the din of battle. And it wasn't as if the smoke would last forever.

Already, the light was creeping back in, the sky growing slowly more visible.

And so the Boar decided on another tactic.

Another small orb rolled in just as the fog cleared. With a crack, it shattered, releasing a brilliant light and a loud crack not unlike a close-proximity roll of thunder.

No sooner then it had gone off then did the knife-wielding mercenary rush in, aiming to find any joint he could to lodge a poisoned knife into.




"Hah, you won't-"

The mercenary stopped when he realized just what had happened.

The spear-wielder behind the vampire Paladin was quite shocked, as well, when the very end of her swing reached him. The dark-haired, slim, leather-armored man hadn't expected it for a moment.

And so when the blade buried in his side, he let out a gasp, spitting blood.

"... You... you..."

Any semblance of coordinated tactics evaporated.

"Damn you, you little bitch...!"

The first spear-wielder, identical to his partner, rushed out of the other mercenaries, trying to rush Dame Tyaethe and bury his spear into her body as swiftly as he could, aiming for the vampire's heart.




The monster bellowed, already raising its bloated fists in a bid to bring them down on Sir Fionn again.

But it could not, however, react in time to the spear thrust. It buried itself deep into the hulking curse abomination's body, tearing through bloated and corrupted flesh and severing tendons. It was quite likely, indeed, that it reached the beast's intestines.

Aside from a snarl, it seemed to hardly notice the horrific damage done to its body even as black blood dripped down the spear, attempting to grab Sir Fionn in its grotesque hands .

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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by HereComesTheSnow
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Gerard Segremors

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It means I'm not as dumb as I look.

Whatever contact the armored butcher may have expected, in what mind he could speak to beneath that ugly pig's helm, what he received was feather-light on his guard. Gerard had sold the preparatory motions, but not the full shift of weight through the arc— he was never going to get that lucky to begin with, but given the ideas already in his foe's head from their shared history?

Surviving long as he had on the battlefield had honed the Boar's speed, even beneath his shell of tempered iron, as well as any other. The reprisal came immediately out of the same motion that brought his hammer haft into guard, a sequence that had caved countless Verloren skulls. Men like the knight before him, only half a year ago—

Who had already disappeared from the space, ducking low as he dodged to the side the moment he drew the reaction out. The swing flew past by an inch or two, rushing wind grazing his scarred cheekbone— if he hadn't already been moving when it came, it would have clocked him cold, sallet or no. Half a year ago, he very well may have died.

This man expected the aggression, expected the vitriol to take his senses, expected him to throw his whole being into every blow. He'd seen it from Gerard's ilk, time and again. Reckless, wild, overwhelming—

A flash in his mind, of the towering silhouette that buried blade and axe into his bones.

—and stopped by a brick wall all the same. There was likely nobody better the Knights had, then, to sell the feint. But feinting alone wouldn't knock a castle gate down.

When sieging heavy fortifications... you brought the battering ram.

Surging forth from the smoke as though fired from ballistae and filling the void Gerard had left, Sir Steffen bore down upon the Black Iron Pig, spear flashing, shield braced to bowl him over. Gerard's mind raced as he pivoted his strong side back into the exchange, now at the flank, sensing something wrong with their enemy's balance from the arc the swing had taken— There!

He swung again, as the gleam of rime drew the eyes to the compromised leg the boar suddenly needed to favor, crossguard every bit as good a hook as it was a hammer. If he could take out a balance point, hook or knock in a knee or ankle from the back, the pig's hopes of bracing into and checking Sir Steffen would be dead in the water!
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Steffen's attempt at piercing the man's throat was unsuccessful, although the mercenary would never be likely to appreciate why, with Gerard's unexpected dodging of the swing and targeting of his vulnerable leg turning what would have been a poised attempt at defence--and likely a futile one, into an odd lurch as he already started to fall, only to catch the Ingvarr's shield too.

Stubborn as the man was, he still responded almost immediately to the winding with a snarled curse, attempting to use the hammer as a crutch and force himself back upright.

@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow




With all the targeting of their legs and their ungainliness, it was unsurprising that the two other cursed monstrosities began to topple, either outright unable to support themselves or overbalancing with another wild swing. Not that the act of falling made them harmless, the wild flailing as their wounds gushed black blood maybe even more hazardous than the intentional attacks, for all the unexpected movement might accidentally clip one of their attackers with outrageous strength.

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Tyaethe


It was a good thrust, even if it was so fuelled with vengeance. Fast, maybe even fast enough to have not needed the little deception trick they had going on to present a challenge. Accurate, too, with a pretty good understanding of the human body and weakpoints. Which made it a pity, as there was no need for her to do anything, the vampire standing in place as the point was rammed through her torso.

"Wrong spot," she added helpfully, crushing the hope rising in the man's eyes. And he had gotten too close, far too close, for as little lasting damage as the spear had done. Close enough that she could just reach out and grab his throat, gauntlet tightening. Behind... hm, she hadn't cut right through, or even anywhere near so deeply, all things considered. Only a matter of time, but not a quick one. Still beating. "He's not dead, not yet."

Maybe she shouldn't be giving this chance. She knew what the Golden Boars were, what they were willing to do. What they'd brought along as reinforcements. But it wasn't personal, they were just... idiot children. Almost harmless, the ones trying to keep her here. The only two that might really be a delay were a twitch away from being out of the picture.

"You could all surrender, rather than fight me," Tyaethe said, sounding tired. Or maybe just bored? The helmet made it hard to tell, "At least you'll have a chance."
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It rolled.

Senses tuned for any changes, Serenity noticed the orb as it rolled out from the cover of smoke. Synapses fired off in that instant, lightning striking through her mind. It rolled. Wasn't thrown. Couldn't accomplish that sort of movement while moving through the smoke laterally. Her opponent was just as blind as she was, shrouded in self-same smoke.

Go!

Her right hand flicked forth, right as the thunderclap struck. Light scored between the slits of her visor, slicing lines of blindness within her vision. The sound was worse though, echoing through her helmet with a nauseating intensity. That was the thing, wasn't it? Years spent training, but she had yet to grasp the secret of slicing sound. Blood leaked, hot and sticky, from her ruptured eardrums. She didn't need her hearing though. Her hand grasped her sword, drawing the blade out. Her shield was extended outwards, a motion that simultaneously exposed her armpit. With a guard like this, she was fundamentally providing a target for her opponent, one that she could close and then counter, the moment he went for it.

But that too, perhaps wasn't something that she needed.

After all, he had rolled that orb. He had exposed his location. And in response, her right hand had flicked forth, throwing his poisoned dagger in that same direction. If her prediction was correct, he would have rushed forth from the same direction as his Flash Crystal and, lightly armored as he was, would have rushed forth right into the whistling blade.

If it proved incorrect? Well, that was why she was giving him a tempting option.
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Fionn MacKerracher


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Undeterred, or perhaps utterly unfeeling, the giant started to turn despite the spear that had thrust so far into its abdomen. Fionn cursed under his breath, yanking the weapon back out with a twist, hands as far back on the shaft as possible as he let the head drop to the ground and he backpedaled clear of the fists trying to crush or grab him once again. No matter that it kept attacking; the damage done, he'd definitely have it beaten on agility now, as any attempt to put weight on the leg that had suffered so many severed muscles and tendons would send it toppling.

Evading the initial grasp—and giving whatever foul fluid had been drawn from the giant a moment to drip back down the other end of the spear, rather than to try and rush more towards his hands—he quickly raised the weapon up again with a jerk of his arms, with an underhanded throw sending the point straight for the cursed person's distorted head in the same moment he backpedaled further from any reach the mutant had.
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Renar Hagen


Awkward things, these curse beasts. Lumbering and clumsy, yet more than lethal if anyone was foolish enough to get caught in the way of their blundering. Renar backstepped out of the way of their flailing, patiently waiting for one of the curse abominations to tire themselves out and let up just slightly in their wild swings before he moved in. When one did, he pounced.

The Bastard of Brias surged forward, ducking below the frantic frailing of a hamstrung abomination to run up towards its head and bring his poleaxe up. He wasn't a burly executioner, all muscle and flab with a blade crafted for the sole purpose of decapitation. Even if he was, this thing's neck was thick enough that aiming to sever the head would be a fool move that would get him killed. No, there were other, softer targets.

A thrust of the spear point plunged it into one of the curse abomination's eyes. As it howled in pain and jerked back, Renar withdrew his weapon and went for his actual target: the creature's now-exposed throat. A second thrust of the tip of his poleaxe sent it straight into the windpipe, where Renar kept the poleaxe stuck in while drawing a dagger in his off hand and plunging it deep into the side of the beast's neck for good measure. On a human or any other similar race, it would be where the carotid was. Fatal for anything mundane, but the hamstrings had proved these creatures weren't exactly immune or resistant to damage, so it should hopefully keep one down.

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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Conscripts
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Steffen Gravinir


The kill was not achieved, but his shield bash succeeded in staggering his opponent. However, shocking his opponent meant having to follow it up, especially when his guard was down, having to use his entire active offence and defence tool to keep himself straight. After absorbing the blastback of the charge he himself commenced by letting himself loose and be bounced back a footstep, his spear retracted and cocked back to ready for another thrust.

Steffen moved in, determined to kick the dog (or boar in this case) while he was down. And it was a literal frontal kick too, coming after thrusting his spear at the same throat that he aimed for a few seconds ago, with the sole intent to get the bastard off the hammer.

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The enormous hand came crashing down as the monster fell, breaking the earth beneath its impact. Had Fanilly been there, she would surely have been crushed.

Instead, she felt the air rushing past her, as it narrowly missed.

There was no time to take in how narrow that had been. No time to appreciate how devastating the blow was. With her blade gripped in both hands, Fanilly lurched forward, the gleaming tip of her blade aiming squarely for the curse abomination's head as it raised one bloated arm again in a bit to strike once more.

She had to do it. At this close range, she had to make sure she struck. She had to bury the blade as deeply as possible, and make sure the cursed monster died with this blow---!




"Urk..."

If the spear thrust's failure hadn't been enough to crush the man's hope of revenge, then the vise-like grip on his throat was. For a scant few moments, he was still gripping his spear tightly, trying to pull it free... and then his grip loosened.

He let go.

"... F-fine... for my brother's sake, I'll surrender."

The Boars surrounding the vampire paladin seemed hesitant. It was obvious how those who surrendered were treated by the Golden Boar's leadership, but at the same time, it was likely they didn't fancy their chances against such an opponent either.




The attack never came.

Dame Serenity had been left behind, just as swiftly as the knife-wielding Boar had attacked in the first place.

It soon became clear why.

"Ah-hah! You look a little worse for wear, don't you?!"

The poisoned knife gleaming, he lunged towards Sir Sergio by surprise, lashing out with his blade and driving it downwards. He'd clearly taken advantage of the cover provided by the curse abominations in order to launch his attack. With the twisted monsters taking up so much attention, he'd decided to attack an opponent he at least thought would be a weaker one.

In fact, he wasn't the only of the Boars who had the same idea, another man in dark plate advancing swiftly to the thinnest part of the defensive line.

"I'll get a bonus for this!"

However-

"Idiots! Morons! You seriously keep forgetting, don't you? Arbec Grant!"

Clarice pressed the fetch between her hands, firmly.

It bounced back.

The armored man did not, blood exploding from every gap in his armor as his body was practically liquified by the sudden force applied to it, spewing across the grass.

The curse mage's vicious grin had returned.

Even the knife-wielder, in spite of his initial bravado, was unable to avoid the shock of witnessing such a display, despite his attack...

Perhaps this would be the opening Sir Sergio needed, or an opportunity for Dame Serenity to catch up to him.




Sir Fionn's spear found its mark.

With a meaty thunk, it penetrated the monstrous creature's head through one of its ruptured eyes. Its grasping hand faltered, and it let out a groan before it finally completely collapsed with a resounding thud.

The curse abomination was dead, sure enough.

"... Tch, the hounds were bad enough," the Boar with a mace commented as he raised his weaponry, "But even I think something like that has no place in this world, Iron Rose. We're enemies, and I'd hardly have it any other way. But I think you can agree on that."

There was no intention of avoiding the incoming duel, far from it. He had already taken a ready stance, raised his mace. There were no other Boars in the way, no further abominable bloated curse monstrosities.

Perhaps he wished, in some small way, to set himself apart from whoever had ordered the creation and use of the curse abominations.

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Sergio della Gherardesca


Metal stains and permeates my tongue as I take the opportunity to counter-attack gratefully. An armour clad elbow rises to the knife wielder's chin with a growl, iron colliding climatically with bone. Perhaps it wouldn't befit me to say that the feeling is invigorating, but with a shattered shield arm and fight-or-flight pouring into my system, it is.

Not a chance he isn't off-piste with that - and so I bring the pointed end of my weapon in an upward swing to his head.

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Fionn MacKerracher


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"Síocháin leat," Fionn said to the fallen abomination as the Boars' commander addressed him. Glancing out, he could see the other cursed beings meeting similar fates to the one he'd been fighting. "Suaimhneas orthu. You're right. They shouldn't have been twisted like that." He half-turned at last to his initial target, hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword. At least he and the Boar could agree on two things; the second was that, despite the exertion, he still wasn't a threat to take lightly.

It was good that the field commander was taking this seriously.

"You can still surrender," he suggested, light and conversationally. "We both know what'll happen to you, but it'll give you the time to make right with the gods and goddesses, let us know who did that to your men. Better than stumbling in the darkness until the end of days." He drew his sword, holding it loosely, letting it rest against his leading leg.

"If you fight, I'll give no quarter."
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Fleuri Jodeau


Their coordinated blows worked. Lacerated by poleaxe and greatsword, the legs of the mutant gave way. Fleuri weaved behind the giant as it fell, avoiding the trajectory of its violent collision with the ground. For all the things that could be said about Sir Renar, Fleuri could not deny that the man knew how to coordinate in a fight.

The fight wasn't over, though. Even if its legs were too wounded for it to get back onto its feet, it remained wounded beast, flailing and frenzied. They needed to hit this abomination's vitals to put it down, but it would be dangerous to get within reach of its massive, swinging arms.

While Renar went around to strike at the head and neck, Fleuri would approach from the opposite side. As the giant tumbled down, Fleuri leapt onto its fallen body from behind and dashed along its spine, banking on the likelihood that its twisted, mutated arms would have trouble reaching directly behind its back. As Renar struck what ought to be a fatal blow to the neck, Fleuri raised his sword and buried it in the pitiful horrors' neck bones, attempting to sever its skull from its spine.

By Reon, you will be put to rest...

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The double attack once more forced the hammer-wielding knight down, this time without the advantage of his hammer, both hands instead wrapped around the haft of the spear, barely holding it at bay. Something that seemed to give the merc some form of amusement from the throaty chuckle, eyes boring out of the helmet and towards Gerard.

"Looks like this northerner bailed you out. Kept you from joining the rest of the faceless, where you belong. Not with these," he spat, before descending into laughter once again and ceasing any resistance. Opting, perhaps, to give the opportunity to Steffen and die with spite.

@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow




Tyaethe


"... Good," the paladin said, pausing to turn her gaze on the other Boars, "On your knees. Or I crush your head. Pick."

It was a statement without much inflection, but without the trickery on their side--and with the obviously diminishing numbers everywhere, their secret weapons keeling over even as their death throes threatened to take out anybody stupid enough to come near--it wasn't one that the rank and file seemed interested in testing. The majority followed the instruction.

The remainder ran. Tyaethe let them; what was the point?

Releasing her sword--as little as it probably did to slow the bleeding, it was better than nothing, and she could get it back in a minute--and looking around, she set off for the densest blob of Iron Roses. Somewhat awkwardly, given there was still the spear protruding through her torso, but nothing to seriously impede her progress. Not that the remainder of the fighting was much of an obstacle either, the lingering Boars not wanting to drag yet another problem into their existing fights.

All of which made it rather easy to actually get back to the healer that had come along with them. Well, easy when you could just avoid the combat and even the curse abominations were easy enough to track...

"Need someone healed. Quickly," she stated, adding "Not me."

The spear was just a nuisance.

Waiting for a nod, Tyaethe scooped the mage up and turned around. No point letting them follow, it would be best if she just ran through this mess herself. Then they could be done here, once everything was cleaned up...
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All in all, it had been a chaotic few minutes. His support to Gerard given he had spent the next few moments assisting, in small ways, wherever he was able. Deflecting errant strikes. Making slick the ground beneath the dwindling Boars' feet. Now, however, Gerard and Steffen had the big one on the ropes; and the knife thrower was headed for Sergio, instead.

The knight likely had it, and if he didn't Serenity wouldn't be far behind, but he flicked his wrist anyway and sent a spike of ice towards the base of the mercenary's skull with a hissed; "Lancia."

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Gerard Segremors

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"True. It would have been a lot of trouble if I didn't have him at my back. The same with Sir Nicomede at our side, to lock you into place and start all this. I'd have had my work cut out for me. Good, reliable brothers-in-arms are hard to come by."

Rime that venerated Mayon in this holy land of hers to bind him. A mighty charge from a mammoth of a man to knock him off his feet. His comrades were, however far they all might have been from the founding generation, incomparable in their own ways. To stand among their number was an honor he always, until the words grew dull on his tongue, was sure to reiterate.

The hammer, cast aside as the Boar seemed to accept spite in his final moments, was lifted again off the diamond-crusted earth, its weight floating an inch above as measured steps brought it over, and raised it high.

He met the gaze of the fallen man, both knowing he was to breathe his last. He spoke again, in a voice that quaked not with fury, tightened its throat not, grit no teeth.

"But, hey, like I said— You were fighting the Roses. Not anyone else."

Not me.

Not the ghost of the Faceless.

All of us.


"The only reason I'm here is because I strive for it every day— I belong because they judge me to, not you. Mercenary record would never have been enough. I had to keep moving beyond that, and every one of us who made it out did the same. The Faceless are left in the past. You will be too."


Instead, he spoke as if saying a simple farewell.

The road ahead was clearing up.

"May Reon's gold flame burn your spirit clean."

He swung.
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Renar Hagen


Between the combined efforts of himself and Sir Fleuri, the Curse Abomination they assaulted fell in short order, its magically-mutated form unable to sustain mortal injury. As soon as he was satisfied that the beast was truly dead, Renar yanked his poleaxe out from its skull, giving Fleuri a brief incline of his head in acknowledgement, though not without a brief barb.

"You truly can't help yourself when it comes to mounting a monster, can you?" He jibed, flicking the blood and cursed viscera from his weapon with a brief twirl of the haft. "In any case, one down. Three to go." His helmeted gaze swept over the field for the moment, stopping briefly at Captain Fanilly's efforts in possibly felling another soon. "Perhaps two."

Renar hefted his poleaxe up, eyeing the available distribution of forces on the field, as well as the remaining abominations.

"We ought to divide our efforts, now that we know for certain how to fell these. Rally a contingent to emulate what we just did for one, and I'll do the same for the other."

@Crimson Paladin
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