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Post by DarkNova50 on Nov 8, 2008 7:58:54 GMT
The comparative tranquility of the blizzard around him broken, replaced only by an unsettlingly familiar sound, every trace of conscious thought, of Mercury, of anything, evaporated from Will's mind. Instead, the Redguard found himself being driven completely by instinct, and began a hasty roll forward, away from the furred streak that he caught lancing towards him from the corner of his eye.
Had Will not already been on alert, the blood of his Yokudan ancestors coursing through his veins like the fire of Red Mountain itself, the beast surely would have had him. As it was, though, he just barely managed to avoid the creature, feeling its body brush ever so slightly against his in passing. Just as quickly as he had dove forward, Will quickly planted his feet into the ground, spinning to face his agressor as he brought his claymore to bare.
And he recognized the beast the moment his eyes hit its form. Far more feral than the creature Mercury had become, he knew there was no chance of reasoning with a werewolf. Whatever trace of sympathy the Redguard had shown the werefox was now long gone, replaced only by a feral, untempered rage all his own. Rather than allow the beast to put him on the defensive, Will lunged towards the creature with his claymore in front of him, poised to swing in an admittedly slow but fatal arc upwards.
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Nov 11, 2008 21:50:11 GMT
Arya forged her way Northwards through the snow, having stopped by a trader in Frostmoth and picked up some bread. She chewed thoughtfully on the bread, holding her cloak tight. She wondered about the reason she felt a call to this place, a frozen isle out in the middle of no where. There didn't appear to be much activity out here, apart from the raging blizzards and the distant howling of various wolves.
She trotted along at a jaunty pace, faster than most thanks to the gift of her birthsign. After wandering in what seemed to be a northern direction through the snow for a while, she stumbled upon a small, worn road leading on ahead. Breathing a sigh of relief, she figured that this road must lead to some small outpost, perhaps even the place dubbed Thirsk that she was looking for. She made a right turn in her tracks and jogged over to the road, upon which moment she heard a snarl up ahead, some snapping branches, and other various disconcerting sound. She clenched her staff tight and moved on ahead.
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Post by FC4 on Nov 18, 2008 17:20:04 GMT
OOC: Oi! Webster! Post! IC: The werefox looked on, confused, as the elf disappeared to be replaced by a cliffracer... but the scent... was the same. Much cleverer than any werewolf, the werefox knew well of magic, and easily put it together that this was more of the 'strangeness' that made things out of nothing, and things into other things. And a cliffracer, silverless, she could kill. Leaping up high into the air, above the cliffracer, the werefox angled downwards with skill, claws reaching, aiming to land on the cliffracer's back. Today she would bring down the prey. The cliffracer flapped furiously within the gale of the icy winds, trying to gain more and more altitude as fast as possible and get far, far away from the beast. Islin had no knowledge, unfortunately, of the tiny monstrosity that spectated his miraculous escape, and was now leaping at the chance to turn it against him. It being completely silent helped little in avoidance or last minute discovery. His only saving grace as the fact the werefox was falling at an oncoming angle, and he was rising at a fleeing angle. So when unusual bird met unusual werebeast, it wasn't exactly on the back. The cliffracer screeched in pain as small claws buried themselves into its lower back, and an unexpected weight collided with his tail. Caught off guard and wounded, the bird did what instinct dictated; it went insane. Thrashing madly about in the winds the bird sought to dislodge this new threat, diving, weaving, twisting and rapidly ascending with mere second transitions between the directions. The tail flailed about, barbed tip trying to seek out opponent flesh, but the werefox being on the tail was enough to prevent an adequate strike. OOC: Curse you Illusionary! Curses! It took me forever to think of a decent way to deal with yer attack on me bird. I hope ya be happy.
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Post by webster52402 on Nov 22, 2008 3:49:51 GMT
Vantustius wasn't expecting his opponent to react so quickly, so when he hit nothing but air, he was surprised to say the least. Indeed, with all his considerable weight behind the tackle, it was very hard to simply switch momentum like his opponent had done, the werewolf instinctively raising his claws to grip against the tree in front of him, powerful arms rippling as he stopped himself from simply going careening off into the woods. Of course, this wasn't necessarily a good thing...
He turned his head just in time to get a glimpse of the Redguard snarling as he crossed the distance between he and the paused Werewolf, his blade rising through the snow. He didn't exactly have a lot of time to react, save to push himself futilely sideways with the tree as a springboard. He wasn't quite quick enough, though, as that's a lot of wolf to move on such short notice. The blade, still freezing cold from the snow, sliced a long, bloody line up Vantustius' ribs.
Immediately, a howl of pure pain echoed through the forest, as Vantustius, belying his size, practically leaped THROUGH the trees around him, slamming his bulk into a sizeable oak and twisting around it, to place the trunk between him and the swordsman. Though the cut was actually relatively shallow compared to how much pain he would be in had it actually cut through his ribcage rather than crawl all the way up it, the fact that the blade was silver made it FEEL as though it were a mortal wound. Though the blade had been ice cold, where it had touched was BURNING, like he had cast a Flare spell on it just seconds before the swing.
The great beast's claw rested against the long wound, caught between a howl and a growl as it pushed futilely on its side, hot blood coursing between it's long-nailed fingers. Ohhh, he would get that man back... He was going to rip his intestines from his body, as he screamed and bled out in the snow... But he had to wait for the Redguard to make another move...
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