Nariata — Roleplayer Guild

*Thud* 
 
The area around the Minotaur echoed as the sound of the Gnoll's axe crashed into the ankle of the beast.  As the Gnoll retreated, he would be treated to the sight of the monster falling to a knee after appearing to suffer a fateful blow; though this sense of optimism would soon be dashed.  The Minotaur slowly crept up from his kneeling pose, ankle without a cut or a trace of any injury, and turned its massive frame towards the Gnoll. 
 
"Heh, heh, heh," the Minotaur chuckled with a voice that was both rich in bass and gritty like a chain-smoking dwarf, "when did pet learn fight," the Minotaur, in a broken form of the common tongue asked.  The Minotaur first slammed its right fist, *thud*, soon followed by its left fist, *thud*, into its chest; filling the air with the loud thuds of its dominance over the Gnoll.  It was readying itself for a charge when an angel fell onto its back. 
 
*Thooooom* 
 
The whole area echoed with the thunderous sounds produced by The White Knights strike.  Almost immediately, as the Soundwave crashed around them, the cultist's hands shot to their ears as they moaned in pain.  The summoner only allowed himself to fall victim to the effects of the strike for a total of five seconds before he pushed through the pain and refocused his magic into the undead. 
 
"Insect," the Minotaur roared as he reached up and tried to grab the leg of the White Knight, though it would find itself unable to reach far enough up due in no small part to the beasts own muscular arms.  Instead, as was common for their kind, the Minotaur roared out a mighty roar and charged towards the Gnoll; he would deal with the insect after he killed the dog. 

Irrak growled in frustration upon seeing that his strike had not affected the Minotaur, who was now charging him once again, to probably kill him once and for all, however, the first time the minotaur landed the hit only because he was caught off-guard, now, however, he was fully able to focus upon the minotaur and dodge it's strikes while trying to chip it off bit by bit until it could fight no more, however, the intervention of what seemed like an angelic being annoyed him, he wanted to defeat the minotaur by himself to show his strength, if someone else were to help him defeat it, then he would not be able to do that.

As the Minotaur quickly approached him, Irrak waited until the last possible moment to dodge out of the way and tried yet again what he had tried before and smashed his axe on the minotaur's leg with all the strength he could muster, hoping that this time his more concentrated hit would do some harm to the large beast.

Balthair was certain that the thunder clap had the cultist’s heads ringing. He was searching the magical gaggle for the puppeteer of the cow demon when the creature surprised him when it showed sentience. The White Knight pushed off the cow’s back when the beast started patting its back for him. 
 
“The cow speaks,” he scoffed. His wings unfurled, catching the air and sending him in a skyward loop. He twisted around to watch as the Minotaur flaunted its dominance in a roar before it charged toward…The Arial’s brows came together in a frown and one of his brows rose a little higher than the other. What in the Great Mother’s name was it? It looked as though someone had decapitated the sodden head of a diseased mutt and impaled it on a body of armor. The ugly creature opened the battlefield to Balthair. He saw the group, The Survivors, he had labelled them. They weren’t all one race. They were a diverse collection of races and people, standing together in a ruined town sieged by cultists and undead. As soon as the White Knight had clapped the group of magicians, the survivors were upon them immediately, seeking to take advantage of the granted opportunity.
 
And here I thought I would have to do everything, Balthair mused.
 
A short woman lobbed a spear at the one mage who had stood out like a sore thumb—the one who hadn’t flinched for long under the effects of the vibrations. Had he been the ring leader? Whatever. Balthair acknowledged that the Earthborn currently confronting them could handle them. The Minotaur needed to stay distracted until they were able to vanquish its master. If there had been any sodden bitch left—or had it been a male?—funny he had assumed the other gender first, then he intended to save the thing. Honestly, a swift death might have been a mercy for the creature. He could only imagine all the ridicule the beast faced…He could only imagine all the ridicule the beast will receive from the Arial alone.
 
Balthair slid his short swords back into the sheaths at his hips and removed from his back, his mighty Lightning Edge. The White Knight flew after the Minotaur with one hand gripping the claymore and his other clenched in a determined fist. He flew swift like an eagle toward the back of the demon’s skull. His hand joined his second one on the blade’s hilt and he swung the sword upward, the swinging causing him to rise over the Minotaur’s head before he pointed the sword downwards and drove it through its skull. The White Knight dropped to one knee, hands gripping the hilt and holding it fast, and he stretched his white wings down to cover the demon’s burning eyes.

The beast staggered as the blow came down, struggling to even move or speak in a controlled manner as the sword dug through the front of its face and out the bottom of its jaw.  Swaying from side to side as it tried to steady itself, it eventually fell to one knee before falling over to the side, twitching every second of the wall day down before it eventually collided with the ground with a bass filled thud.  Though the dead don't remain that way for long, at least not in today's world.  Soon enough, the dark magic of the Summoner entered the corpse of the Minotaur and the beast began to rise once more.   

From down the street, Mulad could see the beast rising from the ground below, and with a keen eye did he notice the giant metal sword protruding from its head.  With his magic already channeled to defend the group, he pulled the magic into his right hand and began to focus it, shape it even, to a spell that would have devastating effects on the beast.  Mulad closed his eyes, and he began to think.  His thoughts quickly focused in on terrible thunderstorms he had witnessed in his life; with the image of multiple lightning strikes hammering down on a metal windmill in the distance becoming the prevalent thought.  The more he thought of the storms, the more the spell began to take form in his hand.  Initially, the spell was weak with thin wisp like sparks arching out from the palm of his hand to the ground below.   

*Zap - Zaaap- Zap*

After a few seconds had passed, the thin wisp-esque bands of electricity grew both in size and frequency for their strikes, bringing a cascading roar reminiscent of a thunder storm.  Eventually, the area began to fill with light as the strikes began to barrage the area beneath the palm of his hand; scorching the ground as it did.  Mulad's eyes shot open and he eyed up the target.  With his eyes on the sword, Mulad cocked back his arm as he clenched his fist, bringing a stop to both the light and the noise, before he shot it back out, opening his palm as he did, and let loose a large bolt of lightning.  The bolt danced through the air, with smaller strikes arching off the main bolt into the metal swords and weapons of the undead horde causing a wide swath of undead creatures to be felled by the electric shock before it collided with the lightning rod of a sword itself.   

The beast's body began to shake as the powerful lightning blast forced its muscles to convulse.  Mulad kept the spell up for one second, before pulling his magic away from his hand and quickly he closed his fist; though the damage to the undead Minotaur would be enough.  The beast once again fell to its knees, its body smoking and with an odor reminiscent of cooked beef, before it once again fell to its side; this time it would not be able to rise again.
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