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2 yrs ago
Current I think watching fight scenes can help in general terms with writing combat, since it can give you an idea of flow and choreography.
2 yrs ago
At least if you're writing something you know, with knights.
2 yrs ago
I mean, depends on what you're writing, and the tone and theme of what you're writing. Trained armored knights were legitimately monstrous on the battlefield, so looking up how they fought helps.
2 yrs ago
As much as there's a lot of reasons twitter sucks, I genuinely don't want to see it die for the sake of all the artists who now rely on it. Hoping the shithead stops trying to directly administrate.
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2 yrs ago
roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… If anyone's up for fighting some kaiju, why not try out my new RP, Godzilla: YATAGARUSU?

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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 .

@Rune_Alchemist@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze@ERode@PigeonOfAstora@Conscripts@Crimson Paladin@Creative Chaos@The Otter@Krayzikk@Psyker Landshark@6slyboy6
@Theyra: Sure, that would be fine.
After a few moments to get over the shock of their appearance, Fanilly did her best to take mental stock of the approaching, cursed behemoths as fast as she possibly could.

They were unarmed. They did not appear to recognize friend or foe particularly well, given the Golden Boars were swift to clear a path for them. It was with a rather sick feeling she noted their obvious origins. The curse abominations were obviously once human beings, no matter how distorted their forms were now.

Regardless of who they once were, killing them would be a kindness.

The thick muscles would be difficult to pierce, so it was best to go for killing blows as swiftly as possible, by bringing their vital points within reach.

The Knight-Captain took a deep breath.

"Bring them down!" she cried, taking a step forward and raising her blade, "Aim for the ankles, hamstring them and cut them down!"

It was the swiftest way she could think of possibly dealing with them. It appeared as if Sir Renar had already had a similar idea, as well.

"Tch, they... their names are gone, I can't..."

Clarice's frustrated voice came from behind her, but there was no time to dwell on that now. The curse abominations were almost upon them.

Fanilly darted forward, ducking low as moving around the first of the monstrosities as quickly as she could.

One of the Boars was already advancing on her to her right. Damn it, they were trying to take advantage of the fact she couldn't focus on them now-!

His neck snapped before he could get within a meter of her.

"Just because I can't read their names doesn't mean I can't read yours, morons!"

Clarice raised her fetch again.

Within moments, another Boar's head exploded, gore spurting through the air, as she squeezed the straw doll's head.

At the very least, that meant Fanilly could focus on the curse monsters instead!

Haelstadt's headless body strode forward, raising its sword. The massive Zweihander cleaved apart another Golden Boar at the waist, his cheap armor doing nothing against the power and quality of steel.

Perhaps, if they had paid sufficient attention, they would have noticed the Black Knight was focusing on targets in the same direction as their severed head was currently facing.

It was hard to pick up on such details when their ranks were being torn apart, however. Indeed, it was difficult for the Boars to join their fellows, and the Curse Abominations, when Haelstadt was cutting through their formation even after losing their head.

Of the other curse abominations, the one Lein had riddled with arrows stepped back for only a moment, the tips buried in its thick, overdeveloped, near-bursting muscles.

It let out an unearthly bellow and turned to charge towards the hundi archer, the unexpected change of direction taking one Boar off-guard.

The mercenary was crushed underfoot without a chance to cry for help, reduced to a mangled remnant on the grass. The other Boars had done their best to evade the monsters for a reason.

"... Tch. You just had to notice, didn't you," the knife-wielding rogue grimaced as he brandished his poisoned knives, taking a step back. It was clear Dame Serenity was far from an ideal opponent, given how he'd immediately targeted the least-armored of the knights.

But perhaps he wasn't entirely without any tricks up his sleeve.

"Hah!"

A trio of black orbs suddenly left his other hand, erupting into a cloud of smoke with an echoing crack, suddenly obscuring the immediate area. The faint shape of the Boar was just visible, blades catching the dying light as they were thrown again.

The Boar who had driven his spear into Dame Tyaethe's side seemed content to allow his fellows to be slain rather than intervene in their demise, instead retreading by his increasingly-shaken allies.

"Why should I? Just got to keep you occupied for a while, you know?"

Another spear thrust towards the vampire paladin, slipping between two allies who were far too reluctant to do anything on their own.

Strange, however, was the fact that the voice, and the spear, came from entirely opposite sides of the fight as the initial blow had come from...

The curse abomination facing Fionn let out a tremendous bellow, its cheeks tearing and exposing muscle, before it lurched towards the knight, raising both of its fists in a bid to bring them down upon them, tearing up the earth beneath its feet.

The Boar Commander hadn't taken the opportunity to flee, nor could he attack with the monster making its charge. If anything, he actually seemed somewhat aggravated at the presence of the curse behemoth, dark eyes glaring towards the mutated creature.

Perhaps he had actually wanted to fight.

@Rune_Alchemist@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze@ERode@PigeonOfAstora@Conscripts@Crimson Paladin@Creative Chaos@The Otter@Krayzikk@Psyker Landshark@6slyboy6
Starshine's tip found its mark.

The Morahti captain had refused to surrender even as all his fellows were slain. Indeed, it was just as Velvetica had expected.

His strength and skill were not enough to prevent what followed.

Slowly, the sword was pulled from his chest, and his legs weakened. And yet, there was no anger in his expression.

Perhaps it was because he at least felt he had died fighting a strong opponent.

Regardless, the man fell moments later.

Were it not for their culture's embrace of slavery, Velvetica would have gladly accepted Morahti into her ranks. It didn't matter to her where someone came from, after all. As long as their intentions were genuine.

But until a day came when the Morahti renounced their culture's belief in slavery, she could not accept such things.

Not a single one of the mercenaries remained standing. They had fought to the last.

The prisoners were located swiftly. Not a single one of them was particularly harmed, for at least Morahti believed that imprisoned slaves were valuable even if they no longer believed they had rights.

It seemed they largely hailed from local villages. It would not take much time to return them.

While the situation was more involved then it had initially seemed, they had still completed their duty.

The Hraeslag Lions could rest, for a time.




Castle Hraeslag.

It was an impressive building, constructed by Velvetica's ancestors a few generations ago. Its red-grey stone walls stood tall and imposing, built to last even against the forces of a mighty army. It boasted an expansive courtyard within, for the purposes of training but also for the sake of recreation. The castle grounds had many gardens alongside the defensive measures taken to make it as impenetrable as possible.

It was the home of Velvetica's mother, father, and older brother, all of whom she was eager to see.

As for the Lions, they were free to go about their business for the moment.

@Raineh Daze@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora
"Bandits, hmm?" commented Fio, cocking her head, "So many bandits. Do they enjoy exploiting the weak, or something?"

She let out a heavy sigh. Naturally, clearing out those who broke the law and attacked innocent people was hardly a bad thing. And it was not exactly a bad idea in terms of ingratiating themselves to the locals. The better they thought of them, the better they'd think of the Queen. It only made sense.

As annoying as it was, Fio couldn't deny the benefits, and using her spells in the name of justice was always a welcome opportunity.

"I suppose we'll have to take care of them, as well," she declared, "Allowing them to do as they please is hardly appropriate for anyone who believes in justice. Hmph. It's like they never think anyone will really come for them."

She paused for a moment, glancing towards the jar. Actually, this presented something of an opportunity, didn't it?

"Hmmm... Wisp, you mentioned you had a way to help fighting a dragonkin?" she questioned, "Would you perhaps be willing to demonstrate against some bandit rabble? There's something even better then honey bread in it for you."

@Rune_Alchemist@Pyromania99
The curse hounds were just about spent.

Fanilly’s blade sunk deep into the chest of one of the leaping beasts, and she swiftly yanked the black-stained sword from its body as she twisted, her shifting footwork allowing her to intercept the swing of an axe-wielding boar. Using the edge of her sword and a flick of her wrist, she guided the axe downwards and to the ground, widening her stand in the same motion before swinging her sword back up.

The mercenary was unable to react in time, his throat parted as crimson gushed from within, collapsing backwards.

The Boars’ numbers were undeniable. But even in the heat of battle, Fanilly was aware that they were low-quality troops.

Her mind raced.

Did they think the curse hounds would be enough to bolster their chances of success?

The Knight-Captain stepped back, the tip of a thrust spear just barely making contact with her armor and skittering to the side.

She drove her blade forward and pierced the attacker’s leather armor, driving the tip into his chest cavity. With a gurgle, he fell.

There was no way the curse hounds alone could have been enough. The Boars had to know as much.

So what was it they were doing?

It was elementary strategy in battle to reserve higher-quality forces for later in an engagement. That much was obvious.

Did that mean…

As Fanilly fended off and slew her attackers, keeping them as far from Lady Veilena as possible, it seemed as if Clarice had grown bored of simply inflicting pain upon the Boars.

Her grimoire floating in front of her, she reached into her bag once again.

“Ah, there you are~”

The curse mage smirked.

What she drew from the bag appeared to be a doll composed of dark straw, a red ribbon tied around its neck.

“My little fetch~”

A nearby Knight was embroiled in a clash with a large, greatsword-wielding Boar.

Glancing at her grimoire for a moment, Clarice raised the fetch in both hands.

“Gilbert Ransyde.”

As she said the name, she took the fetch’s head in her right hand and squeezed.

There was an ugly crunch. Blood poured from the eye slits of the large Boar’s helmet, and the knight watched in mute shock as he fell.

Clarice’s smirk grew wider, and she spotted another nearby Boar bearing down on the defensive perimeter.

“Argus Harvig.”

She gripped the doll in both hands and twisted its upper and lower halves in opposite directions.

With a crack, the Boar’s upper half violently jerked, twisting all the way around until it faced backwards. He collapsed moments later.

“Jarvik Calburn.”

A Boar’s neck snapped violently.

“Thorgon Kallenvert.”

A Boar’s arms and legs snapped backwards, and he fell screaming to the ground.

“Haddick Danson.”

A Boar turned his sword on himself, shocked as he thrust it through his own neck.

Clarice giggled, smirking as she twisted the doll to and fro, bending its limbs, squeezing its head, and watching as the Boars nearest to her were bent, twisted, and killed.

For a few moments, Fanilly couldn’t assemble her thoughts. She had never seen anything like this.

The vile curse used by the mercenary mage was relentless. Though it appeared she could not use it to reach across the battlefield, any Boar that came into range was dead in the time it took for Clarice to eye her grimoire, say a name, and twist the straw doll.

An indiscriminatory nightmare curse that allowed the user to bend the target to their whims.

It had to have limitations, but aside from range Fanilly hadn’t the faintest idea what they were.

And now wasn’t the time to try and speculate.

From here, even as she fought, she could see the tall, black-armored figure that was Haelstadt.

With each swing of the towering knight’s Zweihander, another Golden Boar died. It was as if they were unstoppable.

One light-armored Boar was split completely in half vertically, the others growing too frightened to even approach.

But then-

Something heavy had struck Haelstadt in the back. A mace, forcing the black knight down onto one knee.

As another Boar erupted from the foliage raised a heavy axe, Fanilly realized what was about to happen.

But she couldn’t reach across the battlefield. Nor could any of the other knights.

The axe fell.

With an ugly chunk, it found Haelstadt’s neck, and their helmeted head hit the ground.

Blood erupted from the stump that was now the Black Knight’s neck.

One of their allies was now dead.

Even as Fanilly caught the strike of another Boar, and their numbers steadily dwindled, her mind went over every failure point. She should have had someone accompany the knight. She should have done something. She should have asked Veilena to keep them closer.

Now the knight was dead. Veilena had lost her bodyguard.

However-

“If you expected my knight to perish so easily, you were sorely mistaken!”

It was Veilena.

The headless body stirred.

Even on the battlefield, one could become intoxicated by victory. The axe-wielding Boar had taken a moment to gloat over the slaying of the monstrous black knight.

As such, he was entirely unprepared for what followed.

Haelstadt’s left hand slammed into his cheek. The Black Knight’s backhand spun his head around on his shoulders, demolishing his vertebrae and leaving his face pointed backwards.

As his body fell, Haelstadt rose.

Briefly, it appeared as if the Black Knight was reaching for their head, but then they paused and stepped forward once more, raising their zweihander once more.

There was little time to express shock over the fact that the decapitated Haelstadt was still moving, for the axe-wielding boar was not the only thing to emerge from the foliage.

As Sir Fionn’s advance tore a line straight to the Commander, something erupted from the treeline.

A huge, human-like shape, fists raised and slamming down right into his path, threatening to crush the advancing knight.

It was not alone.

Four more of the hulking creatures emerged from the forest.

In height, they resembled trolls more than anything else, but they beasts were not trolls at all.

Their heads were puny, distorted, perched atop enormous, muscle-bound frames. Eyes seemed to have ruptured, shriveled lips pulled back to expose cracked teeth. In some places, skin appeared to have split, exposing muscle that had swollen too much for the rest of the body to keep up.

Where their skin was intact, veins bulged, and something else almost seemed to be seething beneath the surface.

The monstrous creatures advanced, and with them came the rest of the Boar’s reinforcements.

“What… what… are those…?”

Fanilly couldn’t help but be stunned by their appearance. They didn’t appear to be undead, but they were horribly disfigured nonetheless.

Clarice, who had been absorbed in using her Fetch to slaughter the mercenaries left and right, froze when she saw the monsters.

“They’re… that’s so many,” she murmured in shock.

“What?” Fanilly found herself asking.

“Curses,” grimly remarked Lady Veilena, her attention taken from Haelstadt’s headless rampage through the Boars, “Those things… there’s curses. Seething inside of them. Sliding around under their skin like maggots. It’s vile.”

The cursed abominations were charging for the knight’s perimeter…

And that wasn’t all.

“A vampire paladin, hm?”

The spear was suddenly thrust towards Dame Tyaethe’s side, piercing through her body and running her through. It happened so quickly, the wielder having used the other Boars as cover for his attack.

“Let’s see if I can occupy you for a little while!”

Just as swiftly as he had thrust his spear, the unseen attacker withdrew, using the other mercenaries as cover once again.

A dagger hurtled in Sir Steffan from his right.

“My, so little armor…”

The man who through it smirked, his long dark hair hanging to his lower back as he drew another set of knives from his hip.

In all likelihood, they were poisoned.

“My kind of opponent!”

A great hammer suddenly descended from Sir Gerard’s position.

It wouldn’t be unfamiliar to the former mercenary.

Even as it inevitably missed, almost as if that had been the intent from the outside, the plate-armored figuring stepped towards him.

The bulky, black and gold armor. The helmet baring the Boar’s visage.

It was quite possible that the knight would recognize it from days not so long passed.

“Hah! I recognize that kind of recklessness anywhere!”

The armored Boar raised the hammer once more.

“One of Franz’s Faceless? I wonder if I’ve met you, before! If I’ve killed anyone you knew!”

He lurched forward, hammer swinging down once again.

@Rune_Alchemist@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze@ERode@PigeonOfAstora@Conscripts@Crimson Paladin@Creative Chaos@The Otter@Krayzikk@Psyker Landshark@6slyboy6
An oni's face shattered, skull coming apart, pale, shimmering ooze erupting into the air as it collapsed. In almost the same motion, Hoshiko spun and used her momentum, catching a club-arm from one of the larger oni in both hands.

The concrete cracked and split beneath her. She could feel the impact, the shock spreading up her arms to her shoulders.

But she'd stopped the oni's attack.

Gritting her teeth, she squeezed tightly, the rockets spurting to life on her gauntlets. She poured power into her arms, clenching her jaw as the oni raised its other arm. She was going to do this, and clear as many of the warped around her out as possible by doing so!

Her arms tingled, but in moments she had lifted the creature entirely off the ground by its club. With a shout, the pilot spun, twisting her body and swinging the oni as she did, boosters on her limbs roaring as she turned. The oni's bulky, heavy body slammed into the others, its exoskeleton-like skin splitting as smaller oni broke apart in the wake of its impact.

An entire space cleared around her in a moment, broken Warped falling to the ground.

Targeting the next nearest of the large oni, Hoshiko released the oozing wreck of the first warped and sent it slamming into her target, bowling it over and pinning it under its fellow's corpse.

No sooner then the body left her hands, then Hoshiko's boosters blazed to life once more with an explosive roar ripping across the battlefield. The pilot was sent hurtling forwards, outstretched fist shattering one, two, three of the smaller oni. At this pace, they weren't going to stop her, and she wasn't going to stop either! As long as it meant more people were saved, she'd fight as hard as she could!

Another of the large oni was dead ahead. She felt each of the smaller ones breaking apart on her fist as she approached. She'd take it down in one blow, and-

A column of black-red light vaporized it and tore right towards her.

"Ah-!"

She felt the heat searing past her. She could see it tearing a burning scar in the concrete, the oni struck by the beam boiling in their skin and evaporating in an instant.

Hoshiko had only barely managed to dodge.

Something that strong was a grade far beyond the oni they were fighting.

Hoshiko took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding.

That didn't mean they weren't going to take it down. With Whittemore-san in the sky, they were sure to do it!

They wouldn't let it hurt anybody else!

"Whittemore-san!" she called, "Let's take it out together!"

@PKMNB0Y@King Cosmos@Raineh Daze




Things seemed to be going well on the other side of the battlefield, for the moment. While the oni were resilient and relentless foes to most opponents, not even their sturdy, glossy skin could stand up to the Frame Pilots' onslaught.

But now it wasn't just the oni.

From a long-damaged, crumbled building, something else was stirring.

It emerged on long, spindly legs, ten ending in sharp points, its skin shiny and pitch black. Each of these limbs were attached to a dish-shaped base, from the center of which emerged a single slender neck. On the end of this neck was a perfectly circular head, covered in bright blue, jewel-like eyes.

Though it was called a Jorogumo-pattern Warped, it only had the barest suggestion of a spider in its anatomy. It was more than three times the height of a grown man, and moments after its emergence it was followed by four more of its kin.

The blue eyes flashed, and with a sound almost like the fire of a machine gun a hail of blue bolts of energy was suddenly directed towards the frame pilots. Little care was paid towards the oni, who had holes burned through their bodies by the bolts of light, falling to the ground and smoking as they were cut down.

@SaltSight@PKMNB0Y
It was as she suspected. She thought she recognized more then a few things about the girl, even if she hadn't seen her personally, and just the mere note of recognition practically confirmed it for her.

However, she had other plans. Ones that didn't feature capture and arrest, as much as she briefly flirted with the idea. Instead...

There was another way to deal with potential threats.

"You know... and of course, this is just idle conversation, naturally," Fio began with a wave of her hand, "If a certain somebody wronged a certain kingdom, you'd expect them to be captured at least. In fact, they'd have earned such a fate."

The small girl's gaze was fixed on the archer.

"However, sometimes, when such a person offers their assistance and aid to the people of that kingdom when they're on an important mission, why, their transgressions are overlooked," she continued, "In fact, they might even end up rewarded in the future. Their redemption will surely lead them to a brighter future."

She shrugged.

"Not that it applies to anyone here, of course."

Now she just had to see if the archer took the bait. Of course, Fio had the utmost confidence in herself, and her skills as a mage. Even when it came to slaying a beast like this. The Sword Witch had no doubt in herself.

That being said, it wasn't as if the assistance wouldn't help.

@Rune_Alchemist@Pyromania99
The snapping jaws were like beartraps. One leaping curse hound has sprang towards her. She felt its weight, the power, as its jaws clamped shut.

But Fanilly caught its bite on the edge of her sword. The beast was powerful, but not as heavy as a human, though it nearly took her off her feet.

For all its strength, it was far lighter than even an ordinary dog of its size. Perhaps this was due to its essence being something as fundamentally nebulous and lacking in physical presence as a curse.

Regardless, Fanilly gritted her teeth, forcing the beast down to the ground as she used her leverage over it. Its bite loosened as her blade slid free from its grasp, and she adjusted her grip immediately as she wrenched her weapon from its jaws.

The swing back down severed the hound's head, black fluid pouring from its neck as it collapsed to the ground.

The knights who had gone on the offensive were certainly cutting into the Boars' numbers, and enough remained to maintain a defensive perimeter. Especially given many of them had become sluggish, some even passing out on their feet, due to Dame Amy's song.

But that wasn't enough on its own. It certainly lessened the enemy's number, but it wasn't enough to completely eliminate the threat.

They had to keep Lady Veilena safe!

Fanilly took a step forward, meeting the nearest Golden Boar as he attempted to find a weakness in their defenses. She swiftly slipped past his thrust spear and drove the tip of her blade into his throat, beneath his helmet.

He fell moments later.

But Haelstadt...

In the opening moments of the clash, Haelstadt had caught the nearest hound in a single hand, gripping its head like a vise and squeezing. With a crack, the black knight had crushed the creature's skull, tossing the body to the side and placing both hands on the hilt of their blade.

Just how strong was Haelstadt, to be able to do such a thing?

"Hah! Even alone, Haelstadt would be more then a match for every single one of you!" Lady Veilena declared, her voice carrying over the din of battle, "All you've done is choose the spot where you'll die!"

The towering knight's thrust Zweihander pierced a stunned Boar's shield, shearing clear through it and the armor behind it to impale the Boar. Haelstadt lifted him clear from his feet and flicked their blade, hurling the corpse into his fellows as an improvised projectile.

Even with their ruthless reputation, the Golden Boars facing the towering black knight seemed to hesitate.

Not that it did them much good, as the Zweihander cut a man's head in half moments later, shattering the blade he'd attempted to use as a defense.

But Fanilly knew that a single warrior defending a single person, even one as powerful as Haelstadt, was fighting an uphill battle. They all had to fight their hardest to protect Lady Veilena.

Cae Mayl was no place for a battle like this. But they had no choice.

A curse hound lunging for another knight was greeted with Fanilly's blade, hacking into its spine and sending it to the ground with a pained snarl. A second blow ended its life, black, hissing fluid pouring from its corpse.

While the man seemingly in charge of the Boars' attack was certainly faltering somewhat at the sight of the stern defense, his steel, Boar-bearing shield was swiftly brought to bear, deflecting Fionn's dagger as his black mace raised.

"Consorting with monsters, hm?" he bellowed, "Such noble knights, I see! We'll take our prize, and leave you dying in the darkness!"

Foul as he was, he didn't seem to balk at the challenge.

Clarice's response to battle, unlike her rather sour reaction to nearly everything else so far, was a grin as she swept her hair back, the book she was holding drifting from her grasp and opening.

The vague, phantasmal image of a wailing face that rose from the grimoire heralded nothing particularly pleasant.

"Filthy little piggies, I don't even have to play nice with scum like you~!" she declared, gleefully, raising her parasol in her free hand as she did, "Let's go with... that one. Wither."

The tip of her parasol flashed, a purple-black light erupting from the tip and striking the unsuspecting Boar just as he was engaging with another knight.

With a strangled cry, the mercenary hit his knees, clutching at his throat, crying out frantically as something began to affect him.

In all likelihood, it was nothing immediately lethal, but perhaps that was not a consolation for the afflicted boar.

Near the back of the Golden Boars' formation, there appeared to be some commotion. One of their number broke off, retreating into the foliage...

It wasn't so very likely he was attempting to flee.

@Rune_Alchemist@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze@ERode@PigeonOfAstora@Conscripts@Crimson Paladin@Creative Chaos@The Otter@Krayzikk@Psyker Landshark@6slyboy6
It wasn't as if she was unaware.

The Morahti were a proud culture. One that disdained weakness. But it wasn't physical weakness that they disdained. Velvetica had heard of those who were physically frail but strong of will becoming powerful leaders of Morahti clans.

Surrender, to the Morahti, was a sign of those with weak will. Of forfeit. That you would rather go on living then fight your hardest to the bitter end. Velvetica was no stranger to pride, of course. If it were her personal choice, surrender would never be permitted. But consideration to those under her had to be taken into account.

Not that there would ever be cause for surrender under her, as far as she was concerned.

In any case, she was well aware that no self-respecting Morahti would ever surrender. When she made her commands, she was perfectly aware that she had ordered the mercenaries' extermination.

She had no special hatred for the Morahti. While their slave-taking actions were an abomination to the goddesses, she did not believe them to be an inherently wicked people. Merely one that had lost their way long ago.

But these mercenaries had engaged in taking slaves, purchasing people, on Veltan soil. Taking slaves in inter-clan warfare was bad enough, but to ignore the law of the land and engage in slavery even here...

No mercy could be permitted. Not for a sick Veltan noble who thought himself above judgement. Not for a foreigner whose culture did not yet grasp slavery's wickedness.

They were all judged just the same.

Starshine's edge flashed, parting a mercenary's throat. In the very next motion, she lodged the blade into the armpit of the nearest warrior, without pausing for an instant.

She caught a curved blade on the edge of her blade and guided it away, the upswing cutting her target's throat.

The Lion of Hraesleg was a symbol of justice. Of Velt's law. Of Velt's defense.

Those who did not care for that justice, for those laws, would face its fangs.

Once the camp was cleared, they would move to free the prisoners.

The Morahti, as was expected, were not breaking down and fleeing in the face of this chaos and the loss of their greatest asset. When they realized there was little time to attempt to calm the horses, they were quite quick to try and assemble a defense, drawing their curved swords and spears, others staying further back and nocking arrows.

"Archers!" called Velvetica, over the din of combat, "Keep moving! Their range is limited, but potent!"

Indeed, Morahti shortbows were not known for their range, but they were still dangerous. Morahti archers on horseback could perform swift hit and run attacks. Deprived of their horses, however, they were far less hazardous.

@Raineh Daze@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora
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