[RP] Fantasia

Valkyrur

Valkyrur

White Knight
Veteran
Joined
Dec 31, 2007
Messages
2,634
Age
31
Location
Singapore
Gil
5
FFXIV
Auralesca Vlangia
Fantasia Some alley within the city
Lisette de la Fenêtre, aka "The Window"

The streets of Fantasia were as crowded as ever, even in the dead of the night. People of all races roamed the streets, smiles on their faces as they visited the stalls that Fantasia were famous for. Unbeknownst to them was the somber reality behind the facade that the Crime Syndicate had created. In the dark alleys every night, countless of crimes are committed in cold blood - and none of these will ever see the light of day.

"It's an honor to have you here, Leader."

"No, it's my honor to have you here. This mission will risk everything we have. Your being here suggests something more than just loyalty to Genesis - it's a sort of moral strength that the world needs."

The tall elf smiled at her subordinate as she walked to the front of the small group that had gathered. These were the lower ranks of the mercenary group, Genesis, which had already dispatched the entirety of it's forces within the city. Although it was the end of the day, it was only now that their day truly begins.

"Once again, thank you for being here. This mission today will change the fate of this city which have fallen under the grasp of the vicious Crime Syndicate, Final. I must also apologize in advance for the hardships that you will face but I hope you'll forge on, nonetheless."

"Yes, Leader."

"Thank you. You are the messengers of our mercenary group, making you the most important part of our plan. Please, please, make sure you deliver your messages in the shortest time possible."

As soon as she said that, she began walking down to her subordinates. In her arms were a stack of envelopes that she slowly gave out as she walked by them. "These are envelopes that you are to hand deliver to the names mentioned on it. Find them using any means necessary and make sure they read it," Lisette explained as she passed out all the envelopes. As soon as that was done, she walks back to the front of the group.

"Many things happen in the night, so I must advise you to be wary of criminals roaming the alleys. In short, watch out first for yourself."

"Yes, Leader."

"Now go."

As soon as she said that, the group sprinted off to fulfill their respective tasks. Lisette chuckled as she sliced open a rift in the dimension, stepping in and vanishing in the next instant.

---

Fantasia The Mansion of Dreams
Final: Enigma

Meanwhile, all things were calm at the headquarters of the Crime Syndicate, Final. Known as the Mansion of Dreams, the headquarters were once the property of the King until Final came and seized it. A grandiose display of wealth; this mansion is almost as big as the castle's garden - which speaks volumes about the cost, considering the growing scarcity of land in Fantasia. Congruent with the favorite architectural style of the day, the mansion is gothic-inspired, with it's pointed arches accentuating it's presence in the city.

There, the rank and file of Final were gathered for a major briefing by their mysterious leader. The atmosphere was particularly cheerful, considering the fact that it was to be the first time anyone came this close to meeting their leader. Like his name suggests, Enigma is a mystery. No one knows who he really is or even what he really is.

"Let me thank you all for coming here today."

Silence spread around the mansion like a wave as they stopped what they were doing on hearing the booming voice of their leader.

"As some of you may know by now, Final shall be involved in a project to develop an institute of education for aspiring warriors. This project is estimated to take about 6 months at most. With your combined efforts, as well as the workers we've hired, this should be easily achieved. I hope you will all dedicate yourselves to that task. I have already instructed the Ranks about this. Obey their orders without hesitation. That is all."

For a moment, silence reigned. Then suddenly there was an uproar.

"Damn you! You told me he'll come out!"

"I didn't say that!"

No one could believe that their leader had just chosen to remain as enigmatic as ever.

=======

[Events List]

Genesis
- Read the envelopes for your respective events.
- Decide what you would do next: to follow orders, or to ignore them?

Final
- Instructions have been given.
- Enigma expects obedience without fail. Do you dare to defy him?

Neutral
- The Fantasia City Night Market is open! An abundant amount of goods and services are readily available.
 
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Mr. Craven - Um ... it's rather embarrasing, but I'm an orc so nevermind
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The very moment silence broke out in the gothic hall of the Mansion of Dreams, a voice intruded the very mind of the legendary half-orc, half-drow.

"You shall be the security chief overseeing the project. Gather all the men that you need to make sure nothing goes wrong. This mission is not confidential, you are permitted to explain your actions to your subordinates and citizens of Fantasia." Certain that the voice belonged to none else than the leader itself, the orcish hero was shocked to say the least. Even though the voice commands had been more than common over the past ten years, Craven was as his name stated, craven. Every once in a while the sudden surprise intrusion was enough for him to let his bladder loose. As did he this time. The vile smell of orcish urine shot to the surrounding air and a few couldn't do nought but notice. While the hall was full of noise and arguing, the sinister laughter of his comrades who had realised what just happened was loud enough to draw even more unnecessary attention to the unfortunate mishappening.

'' That's embarrasing ... if I don't do something now, they will never follow my orders for the task ... shall I fail with the task, Nothing will eat my eyeballs for next meal.'' While the smelling liquid soakened his leatherish pants even further, Craven had no clear thoughts on how to save his skin. But it seemed it was for the best this way. A famous sellsword of the organisation and one of orcish kind didn't seem to like the offensive comments about the loose bladders of orcs and stepped in to deal with the one responsible for the badmouthing. A massive crack and the low-ranking member of the organisation who a moment ago had been shouting comments on orcs bladders and genitals was on the ground, unconcious. But before the wetpants had time to say thank you, the orc turned his fierce eyes on the half-blood.

'' You ... I shall help you with your issue!!" The huge gray-orc smashed his hand into the wet soaken pants and grabbed with his clawlike fingers.

" This ought to stop yar runny sausage, Craven of the clan Elfpiss!" His roaring comment brought up cheers from almost everyone who had gathered to see the foul and shameful mishappening of the legendary Vadok. But something clicked deep in the mind of Craven. Was it because of fear or pain, none knew. Yet it happened nevertheless. A noseless bleeding gray-orc was on the ground screaming out of pain and fear. And on top of him stood a huge figure with blood-shot red eyes, chewing heavily on something with his massive jaws. It didn't take long to realise that it was Vadok himself who bit half of the gray-orcs face off with his massive jaws and what he was chewing now, you can all guess.

" Now you little weaklings, did some of ya say sutin 'bout my bladder? Because I would love to take another piss on yar mums!" The rather shy at times Craven was no longer there. Instead one of the most frightening Vadoks was standing on top of a slightly roaring and rather upset gray-orc who for some reason didn't dare to move an inch. Might have been that the umbrella-gun of the wetpants was pointing at his balls. This one moment of rage was enough to stop any and all comments concerning his wet pants and more than half of the crowd continued to move on.

" Before ya weaklings move out of my sight, I need six of your sorry asses to join me and serve me as security officers for the task. Shall I want to leak into my pants, you shall dry it with your own hands. Undertsood?" It was more like a roar of a gorrilla from a deep jungle than the manner of speech of one of the elf kind. His bloody eyes were running along the ranks of men and women surrounding him, searching for whoever was up to join him in his task. As there didn't seem to be many volunteers, he did something only expected of a trueborn Vadok. Deafening was the noise caused by the gunshut. Even more were the screams of the gray-orc who soon after pass out.

" Who?" His voice was even more furious than before, looking for volunteers to his task. This time more than six came up, frightened by his rage.

" Darn ... what've I done .... the moment this gray-orc recovers, he will kill me ... kill me ... no not kill... eat me alive ..." The good old Craven was back. Slight shakes out of fear were running over his body, yet no-one seemed or dared to notice that the fierce Vadok was no longer what he had been a moment ago.

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James Black - I'm rich and I know it
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"Mr. Black, Mr. Black" A young and gentle voice sung through the rather small in diameter but surprisingly spacious main hall of the headquarters of Merchants of Ao. The hall was round, reminding the ancient building of the Senate in Rome. The large well decorated columns were almost identical to those of the Doric order of Rome. Yet they were not crafted out of marble, but something much more gorgeous and rather mysterious. Red dragonglass to be exact, extremely expensive and even more extreme to craft out of due to its hardness and thoughness. What's worse is the ultimate resistance to magic. An entire company of an army could have been covered with the amount of dragonglass that was used to create the columns. But in truth not only the 8 columns of the main hall but the doors, the floor, the round wall and the roof had been coated with red dragonglass. This was to ensure that magic could never pierce nor destroy the main hall of the building. In addition, no scrying spell or eavesdrop magic could get past those walls. While secrecy and safety were important part of the material choice for the merchants, the looks were the true reason for the money well-spent. Red dragonglass had many subtones and changed them like a flickering light, but in general the whole hall had a beautiful red Roman look to it. The additional gilded corners and edges made it even more glorious. Certainly there was nothing else like it in the whole kingdom of Fantasia.

" Yes my lovely singer?" This voice was ugly and rough in comparison to the one heard before. Yet it was much louder and more likely to get the message through.

" You have a visitor with an important letter." Mr. Black nodded and the guards dressed in shining white robes opened the main door to the hall. A male courier with no distintictive figures walked in and handed the lord of the hall a letter. The old geezer smiled while curiously ripping the letter open.

" Take great care sire, it seems of high impo..."

" Shuzz ... don'y ya see I'm a tad bit busy right now." The bard with the lovely voice was interrupted by his lord. James rolled his blue eyes, shizzled his grayish red hair and jumped off his golden seat that looked much like the ones in royal throne rooms. Only now could the messenger see how short the famous Mother Theresa was. At maximum 1.50 m of height, he looked a child next to the human courier.

" Thank you for this message. Dwarfy! Give me some paper." It wasn't hard to guess who had been called Dwarfy. After all there were only five men in the room. The two door guards of elven race dressed in their fancy white robes and wearing their short-swords on their belts. The messenger, mother Theresa and the owner of the lovely voice, a small dwarf with long red beard and hair. The exact opposite of his voice, his feauters were rough and uneven and all-together made him look like a weasel, but with long red fur. But before the dwarven bard had time to find paper, Mr. Black had summoned paper out of nowhere. On the piece of paper stood 4 names. All of them were members of the mercenary organisation, one more famous than the other. Probably the most known of them was the famous cat called Elvire Orleans.

" My dear courier, if you could be so nice and find every one on the list and tell them to come to this hall as fast as possible, I would be very thankful and generous in gold."

OOC: Just so you know, my mission is to sabotage the project of Final, therefore I need spies and people of that sort to aid me. And Noblesse, your char looked one of those kind who could give me a hand.
 
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Clyuue en Celle Zwihander en Quowjaz oz Soleire YEqeiyu

It's a raid!
​


Lady Clyuue! A mission from the Leader.

Without even a backward glance, the tall redhead held out her hand and instantly, an aide rushed for the letter, taking it from the young elf and handed it into the waiting palm. Without even bothering with the letter opener that was also presented, Clyuue sliced open the paper with the tip of a gauntletted finger in one swift motion. Her eyes quickly trailed through the writing and a twist of a smile appeared on her lips. It was close to perfect

"Hello,

Yours is a mission of utmost importance, if I may say so myself. I am fairly certain the crime syndicate is up to something. However, I do not want them to get the idea that Genesis is up to something. I hope you can pass off as a vigilante working purely to resolve a personal vendetta.

Find any operations ran by Final and sabotage them. This should distract them enough to buy our members some time.

Yours Sincerely,
Lisette de la Fenêtre"

Clyuee was somewhat conflicted with this mission. On one hand, she ahd the perfect operation that she could crush in mind. A den of organ and human smugglers have been made known by Genesis intelligence section. Clyuue was unable to have this sort of repulsive trade continue while she had full knowledge of its whereabouts. On the other hand, running around sneaking and doing things in the shadow wasn't really her MO.

With deliberate slowness, Clyuue glided slowly over to the table and downed her glass of wine, setting the letter on the glass top. The liquid seeped down through her body and for the while, Clyuue let her mind go blank, before sharply turning on the spot and snapping her finger and made her way towards the door. At the sound of the click, numerous soldiers stepped forward to attention and the lights instantly illuminated the oriental hall. Many of her clansmen stood at attention, their ears folded in anticipation at what the content of the letter may be.

Men, prepare my Demon Lord armour. (in essence, the armour in the profile as it is shown with this helm). I shall be heading out alone tonight. Guard the manor and watch for enemies while i am out.

Her retainers began to complain instantly.

My lady! That is preposterous! Are you planning to storm that warehouse yourself? Did we not have a plan all set out?

Orders are orders Lieutenant. I shall plunge myself in that cesspit and purge every being inside that had dared cast its shadow on those that tread the light. Search and destroy till none can move. No mercy, no quarters.

Turning to the young elf, Clyuue gave her acknowledgement for the mission.

Tell the leader that it shall be done. My manor is yours to stay should you wish to wait for my return to report.

With a mighty turn and flick of her cape, the mighty general left the room, her servants quickly converging to remove her armour and to dress her up in her Demon Lord armour. With practiced ease, the armour was on and it the helmet was over her head. The deep burgundy cape hung from her shoulders and instead of her precious straight blade, on her waist was her twin swords, sheathed into one sheath, Extremely deadly in close quarters. All dressed and armed, Clyuue stepped out of the Cheytan manor and made her way towards the warehouse. She shall breach the front door and murder every person inside, face to face.
 
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Mr. Craven - A craven man makes a fine and adequate strategist
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After finding a job for each of the 6 security officers, Craven commanded them to recruit at least 10 members of their preference to help them with their tasks. Two units had already been dispatched to the streets as additional patrols, 1 unit was sent ahead to the City Night Market as his personal security squad. 1 unit was left as reserve in the headquarters and another unit was given the task to aid any other ranked member who was working under the direct orders of the leader to aid the project. The last officer was given the title of Chief Intelligence Officer of the Security Department of project 0. His squad functioned as both messengers between the other 5 squads and as the spies for Vadok. Any opposition or any rumours of sabotaging the project had to be found out as fast as possible and Craven was smart enough or craven enough to understand that the official intelligence department of the Final was too far away from his direct reach to report straight to him and that way was rather unable to save his ass if necessary.
It was general knowledge within Final that Craven was more than decent commander and organiser who often found loopholes in any plan. After all he was so afraid of any unlikely events that his plans reached a whole another level in terms of bulletproofness compared to his companions. For example he makes his personal sellswords eat and carry onions with them, just in case of an extremely unlikely vampire attack. A good six years ago a group of vampire bandits happened to ambush him and his guards. For their surprise every man was as well prepared for slaughtering vampires as a true vampire hunter. Yet on the same trip wild werewolves charged on his party and for some reason every guard had an additional silver blade and silver arrows. Tough luck for his enemies they say. There are a great number of stories similar to these, but those will be left for another time.

Right now, Craven was doing something rather unecessary and in some sense rather stupid. He was heading towards the warehouse of the organ traders to buy the gray-orc he offended a new nose and if possible, new balls. Some would think of it as good will while others would kill him for something that rude. But Craven had to take the chance as he knew that the gray-orc he made a shemale less than an hour ago would slaughter him if no action was taken. And this seemed like the only way to save his own orcish skin. Of course there was the odd oppurtunity of assassination, but Craven was too craven for that. And so he was walking on the street with a good twelve sellswords behind him towards the warehouse to buy a gray-orc a new nose and orcish sack if possible.
Not long after a rather big warehouse appeared in front of him. Partially carved of wood, partially made of stone, this building looked almost abandoned if not for the lights emitted from under the rear door. A man welcomed him and his company as he made it closer.

OOC: Tipsy I hope that it ain't rude of me to just happen to be in the warehouse with 12 sellswords while you barge in. Or maybe make it in the very moment you are slaughtering everyone.
 
OOC: No problem. I think ill make it that yiur entrance is the back. I went in through the shop "front". And probably be inside earlier than you. Also, replace the armour with this and make the skirt burgundy and the cape with this on the back in white.

Clyuue en Celle Zwihander en Quowjaz oz Soleire YEqeiyu

Knock Knock


Her walk had drawn the eyes of a few people that also walked in the side roads. Clyuue had managed to not meet anyone until she was well clear of anywhere near the Soleire Manor. Most were probably curious as to who this person in full plate armour was. Their curiosity was quickly sated when they then saw the long sword strapped to the waist. The swords were a meter ten each and rather weighted compared to normal swords. Clyuue purposefully chose these as to batter and chop through the foes she will be meeting real soon. Thankfully, she did not meet any local law enforcement officers. It would have bad should she had to send a few police to the hospital for her mission. Right now, she stood in front of a wooden door with a glass window. Through the wood, the noise of chatter came through and from what she could hear, it was probably three men, playing cards. Wrapping her hands over the metal knob, Clyuue turned slowly and the door swung open. All three men turned to the newcomer and instantly, one jumped to his feet.

HEY! WAtchu thin' u doin here? Check this guy out, all decked out in armour. What a too...

That was all he got out as four straightened digits had been jammed through his throat. The hatchet from his belt was already out and spinning through the air by the time the second man realised what has happened. The third only managed to get his sword halfway out when the splattered brain matter and blood from his friends cleaved head spurted onto him. The split second hesitation he used to glance back cost him his life as his head was slammed brutally into the stone wall behind. From the metal door at the back, Clyuue heard another man call, most likely hearing the scuffle.

Hey Joe. Whats wrong? Whats with the noise?

Mark slid open the eye slot to glance out and instead, he saw a helmet looking at him before being quickly replaced with a thrust of a sword. The door was not much of an obstacle, Its hinges were set into weak wood, rather than stone, a construction flaw when they modified the warehouse. A solid front kick sent the hinges from its perch and slammed the door into the now dead guard.

Knock Knock....

By now, the situation went full blown. The warehouse was on alert. With both heavy blades out in hand, Clyuue cleaved through the guards with ease. Not one had any form of armour or even proper shields that could have helped them from the strikes. Swords broke, heads went flying and limbs littered the floor. Thankfully, the warehouse was more soundproof than the front, and Clyuue could clear the front section without alerting the basement nor the rear of the warehouse. Without a break, the knight went down into the basement. According to intelligence, the basement was where all the harvesting was done and the rear was where the slaves were kept. Those that were down here were even easier to kill due to its dimness and their lack of weapons. The most one carried was a cleaver, since no one expected the 10 odd guards upstairs to be killed without warning. One last group cowered inside a cell, where a live harvesting was occuring. Of course, Clyuue dispatched the three without hesitation, but the victim was not saveable. Instead, She apologised and swiftly killed him by slicing his neck before kicking open the hatch into the slave holding area.

Four guards stood in circle to receive her as she exited, but it was futile. Their proximity to the exit made it easier for Clyuue to deal with two in one sword sweep, dicing the legs of the left two and decapitating one on the right. The last barely survived with his sword hand lopped off. The remaining 5 made straight for the door and unfortunately for the now handicapped warrior, they closed the door on him. Stuck inside, his face drained of blood as a large shadow was cast over his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus was guarding the rear door tonight. It was any night like usual. The Final had the town in the bag and this business wasn't going to get much of a hassle from anyone. He really didnt see the need to have a guard. Rather than stand out here, he would have much preferred it to be inside and play with the new toy they had kept from the last shipment. His thoughts was quickly interrupted by the appearance of 7(?) orcs. From the looks and their weapons undrawn, they were probably clients.

Hey, looking for something?

Marcus gave them a teeth rotting smile when the door behind him slammed open and 5 of the guys came barreling out and sprawled over the floor.

What the fuck man? Whats wrong with you... and... did you fucking piss yourself Joseph?

F.f..f.f.fff..freak..... Inside......

As if on cue, just as Marcus turned to look a the door, Yusef broke through.... at least.... what used to be Yusef. Now, it was just a torso with a few bits of limbs. Worse was,.... he was still alive, though not for long, not with those wounds. Clyuue stepped out and just as Marcus's eyes widened, she cut his head to pieces in a dual sword X cut, leaving a triangle above his neck. Those five that had ran out were still on the ground. Calmly, reaching down to Yusef's belt, Clyuue took his war axe and buried it into his head. The point caught hold of the inside of his skull and with a casual swing, she sent his body airborne to the side before it landed and splattered blood onto the stone floor.

Five left... for the lines of hell.....

Her attention was then turned to the 7(?) orcs that were present. They were not part of the parameter of the mission. Once these 5 were dispatched, then she has completed her mission.... However.... that is... if these orcs did not attack. Slowly, her helmetted head turned towards them, looking at the main one in front for any action or response. Clyuue can dictate her action based purely on the smallest hint from the orc
​
 
OOC: 12 orcs there were as sellswords and guards + my character. So a good company of 13.

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Craven - This is not were I parked my car
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The company of twelve bloodthirsty orcs and one craven yet huge half-orc, half-drow was quite the view. Nine out of the twelve were rather heavily armored as normal for barbarians and fighters of their kind. But three in the back were different, smaller than their other kin and dressed in dark robes. Reminding wizards, one of them called himself a great orcish warlock and the other two were messengers, another safety measure taken by Craven. Shall anything happen to the company, the messengers will be sure to get some back up. As was this time. The very moment Craven noticed the five men running out, one of the messengers charged running past the warehouse and towards the City Nights Market as that was only a mile away. Known to the messenger, one of the 6 officers of Craven had been sent there with a party of 10 guards, all renowned in their art. While running by Craven, Vadok nodded to him as an approval.
Not a second later the door was plunged open by what's soon to become a dead man. Followed by a queer looking thing in dark black armour, two bladed feasting upon blood. A head was severly modified and another dead man lay on the ground. Then the dark messiah seemed to stop, glancing at Vadok to see his reaction. Fear shot through Cravens body as he realised that this warrior had just wiped out more than ten, possibly twenty guards. Or maybe there were others. But that didn't make the situation any better. Worse if any.

" Excuse me ... it does seem that I did not leave my horse here after all. Don't mind us at all." It was more than clear that his voice was shaken by fear and his retreat seemed true enough.

Without the slightest hesitation Craven turned his back to the warrior and took a few steps towards the warlock and the one messenger still left behind the other orcs. A smile that was utterly grotesque formed on his face and his eyes pointed to where the party had come from earlier. The messenger knew in an instant. The very moment the messenger turned around and burst running towards the headquarters to call aid, a magical shield called upon Vadok and the Warlock appeared and 6 of the barbarians moved to surround the warrior, axes and longswords unsheated. 1 remained near Vadok as a last effort bodyguard and two moved to block possible escape routes. So smoothly, fast, almost simultaneously it took place. One might wonder how often they had practised conflicts like this. By this very moment, the noise had been loud enough to awaken plenty of citizens from their beds and appear on their dimly lit windows. While orcs in position were patiently waiting for warriors first move, good old craven continued to walk within the magical shiel further and further away from the scene. Common excuse for him would have been that someone needs to stay alive to be able to identify the murderer shall the other orcs fail to execute her/him now.

'' Shall we even the odds pussycat!" The biggest of the orcs mumbled while green spit flew out of his mouth towards one of the men on the ground. An orc closer to the man who was spat on cut the head off the shoulders with one swing of his double edged battleaxe.

" This looks even enough to meh." Roared the one with bloody axe.

" 6 of us, 4 men and 3 of ours as back-ups. Show me what ya got!" Even when the orcs were a thirsty bunch, they knew some discipline and did not charge on the enemy to expose unecessary weaknesses.

OOC: The orcs are well trained in their art and have actual war/battle experience in addition to the common orcish brawls and fighting pits. They are also extremely loyal to Vadok and their courage is beyond humans. Their only real weakness is their bloodthirst. The more fun they have, the more careless they get.
 
Elvire Orleans
Dragon Rising

Elvire was sitting down on the top of a building, sitting on a corner and resting her eyes as she held her spear in hand, letting it lean on the side. As soon as her eyes opened however, Elvire quickly jumped to her feet and held her spear tightly on hand as she began to run down the building. As soon as Elvire got herself close to the edge, she lifted her legs, jumping high and using her forward momentum to take her to the next building. The Felidian warrior carried on this motion, jumping from building to building, patrolling the city for anything wrong happening.

It was through her patrols that Elvire came across a dozen or so orcs moving to enter into a wooden and stone structure, apparently a warehouse of some sort. Looking out to see what was going on, she stared at the scene almost like an eagle, as the orcs seem to be distracted by something, or rather someone, barring their path. Elvire stood up as it appeared that the orcs were looking for a fight. Her hand gripping the spear tightly, Elvire jumped down, and landed behind the opposing group. "Well then, I suppose you orcs are really terrible at math."
 
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OOC: Just wondering.... are we posting too much? I cant think of anyone else joining the fray tho....



Clyuue en Celle Zwihander en Quowjaz oz Soleire YEqeiyu

Too much. Even for me.
​

The thirteen Orcs were hostile. To be more accurate, six of them were. Cheytans were known with their prodigious strength, but even Clyuue was not going to count her luck with defeating all six. Orcs, are strong. Ridiculously so. However. Her mission still stands. These remaining four need to die. Even though the parameters did not specify complete annihilation, Clyuue's own justice dictate that these monsters need to. There was two things she can rely on, though she would rather not use one of them. Both eyes darted back and forth from orc to orc. These were experienced fighters. Rather than charging in recklessly, they await for her to move. This may be good. Orcs are bloodthirsty, so if Clyuue can hype up them, then they may lose rationality. Her eyes then locked onto the center most man, who has now gotten onto his knees.

You first then....

With deceptive speed belying the armour, Clyuue stabbed the man through the heart and despite the blade being spine up, split him close in half and lifting the man into the air. With both blades, the Cheytan continued and diced the man to bits and sent the pieces flying outwards like shrapnel. The man's own heart and vessels squirted out copious amount of blood, making it seemingly rain. Following her final strikes, Clyuue let both blades descend onto the heads of two men who now looked up at the spectacle. The last, she charged.

Sheathing one of her sword, Clyuue used the poor man's head as a spring board, crushing and snapping his spine as over 90 kilograms of weight without counting the force bounced off the delicate limb. Suffice to say, his skull did not remain intact and collapsed inwards. His death allowed her to soar over the head of the first orc, and with a crouched landing with left leg extended as suspension, she used said leg to sweep backwards so that it would trip the orc over and also doubled up by pivoting her to face her enemies. She may be out of the encirclement, but one does not live by turning one's back to a group of Orcs. Their strength meant that they can launch axed at frightening velocity with surprising accuracy. In fact, the reason she had reverted back to a single sword is that she would not be able to compete strength should she divide it between two hands. She was also not keen to have Orcs come from multiple directions and here, they can only come from the front. Immediately after the sweep, from the crouch, she shot to her feet and backpedaled as close to the closest wall as possible. She was confident enough to backward jump onto the wall and escape via rooftop. Still, there was a LOT of Orcs around. Just as she got to her feet, another stranger appeared, this time closer to her, but appearing less hostile to her.

 "Well then, I suppose you orcs are really terrible at math."

There was something decidingly familiar about her voice. In fact, now that she was closer to the first more mild Orc that seemed to be the leader, he also seemed familar. She then became less amused at the current situation.

Hmm.... i see..... wonderful....

Right here was Vardok from Final. A rather well known Half Orc with much strength and besides her right now, Elvire Orleans, a Rank 5. While it would be most simple to just reveal her face to Elvire, Clyuue doubt these Orcs would just let it by. Her mission was a secret so she cannot tell the Dragoon. She also did not think Ms Orleans here would let her leave, if she didnt know of Clyuue's identity, considering she was bathed in blood that she had just shed inside the warehouse. If anything, it would be Orcs versus herself, versus Orleans. A three way.

I must escape...

She would have to bet on Elvire to distract enough of the Orcs to give her time to run, then hopefully, assist enough from a high vantage point to let Elvire escape as well
 
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OOC: Ok, seems I still don't need to change anything. But why to you think Vardok is from Genesis? I'm quite positive I have always said that he is with Final. And my other char is in Genesis. That old mother theresa.

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Craven - Wits have nothing to do with courage
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Another intruder. A rebel dragoon of some sort. That was quite a sight in Fantasia as the city was Finals city, meaning that everyone were either theirs, under their influence or too afraid to act. And now there were two warriors opposing him and by opposing him, opposing Final. Women to judge by the scent. Craven was about to shout commands to the two who were standing in middle of the street to block possible escape by the ground when he noticed that the trained barbarians from the fighters pit had wits of their own. Instead of remaining where they were, they moved slowly towards the dragoon. The bigger orc was wearing an extremely long longsword that was appropriate when thinking of his own height. More than 2.45 tall this orc was grotesque looking mass of muscles. The other one, standing at a good 2 meters wore a double-sided battleaxe in one hand and a wooden tower shield in the other. Both of them seemed to be well prepared to match the dragoon. The long sword was long enough to minimize the reach advantage of the spear and the shield is perfect for blocking thrusts of spears.

" Bad at maths we might be ... because our math teacher was slain by us when we were in first grade!" Boasted the smaller orc. Bigger one only roared, spit drawling down the chin. Probably the least intelligent of the bunch the huge orc was necessary to scare other orcs looking for brawls. But the one with shield was cleverer than one would believe an orc to be. Or just well trained as he assumed a position closer to the dragoon, shield ready to block.

" Ya bigfoot hold your distance, only charge when his spear pierces me or my shield. I will make sure that his advantage becomes his doom." While saying these words, the man charged forward while hiding most of his body behind the tower shield. He was waiting for a thrust from the enemy, either at his shield or at him. What ever the dragoon does, he tightened his grip on the big axe and prepared to either throw or smash it at him the very moment his enemy tries to attack with the spear. Meanwhile, the other orc with the sword moved and circled to the side of the dragoon, constantly searching for a blind spot or an oppurtunity to get behind. But he wasn't going to charge before there was a true opening.

While the threat to the orcs from behind was being eliminated by the two back-up orcs, the warrior in black had made her way out of the encirclement. She even managed to push an orc so out of balance that it almost dripped over. Thank god its longsword was long enough to be used as a staff to balance him. But this moment in time was enough to give her a slight chance to escape. She was about to backjump to a wall when five of the orcs flew out their axes at amazing speed towards the warrior. One flew at the height of her head, possibly aimed at neck. Other at chest and third one low enough to cut her feet off, shall it manage to pierce the heavy armor. The fourth one seemed to miss its target and the axe was moving quite a bit to her left. Unknown to the thrower, this actually cut out the oppurtunity to dodge to left. Fift one had wits and aimed to her right to avoid her dodging to the right. While this attack might have seemed stupid for many fighters of the mankind as the enemy wore heavy armor and throwing axes might not have been enough to pierce it nor to have any other serious effect, orcs threw their fighting axes that were much heavier than those officially ment for throwing. In addition orcs were stronger than humans and adding these two factors together, even one of the axes landing on her armor might be enough to break a bone or seriously fracture one. The odds of it piercing the armor were low, but still there. So in the end, a clever play from the bunch of low intelligent barbarians, seasoned in war to make openings were there are none. Shall the lady block, dodge by a miracle or take the hit, the orcs left no chances for the god of luck and charged after their axes, unsheating their secondary weapons. Who had a smaller axe, who had a short sword. One of them actually had an even bigger battleaxe on his back.

Quite a bit further away, the very moment the lady warrior in black started to jump out of the encirclement, Vadok realised that the rooftops were her best chance.

" You, climb to the roof over there and face shall she come there." By the time she was ready to jump and the axes came at her, the last barbarian who had stayed with Vadok had made its way to one of the rooftops close to the scene. Only about 15 meters away was the wall from what the lady was possibly planning an escape. Sending his bodyguard away, only a walrock was left to defend Vadok. Fear cuts deeper than swords they say and Craven started to walk even faster even fruther from the scene. The warclock followed him like a dog.

OOC: Good luck with the 5 axes =D
 
OOC: Its not too bad when i think about it. One motion and one can negate all three. And thats it until Kevin can post.
​

Clyuue en Celle Zwihander en Quowjaz oz Soleire YEqeiyu

Blindfold knife throw, only... without the blindfold.


As expected, Orcs were not particularly honourable creatures. They claim battle prowess, but never seems to stoop to outnumbering to win. It is akin to a mighty stallion kicking an ass in a race. Absolutely no honour. Whatever the case, two more Orcs have moved forward, this time going for Elvire whilst the front few hurled their heavy axes at her. 5 to be exact. These weren't anything to laugh at. Heavy Orc axes thrown by Orcs can cause pretty bad limb damage, even with Cheytan heavy armour on. Instead, Clyuue chose to gracefully dodge. Two of the axes bracketed her in, not allowing lateral movements, but forwards and backwards on the spot was still viable. One flew low at her right leg, but a quick 90 degree pivot with the left feet moved her right out of its trajectory. Even better, it set up the left to right diagonal downward swing, which met the head height axe, sending it spiraling to the floor. The last, with careful deduction was allowed to hit her chest plate. It was flying head over end forward. Her chest piece was slanted and convexed. Turning just enough, The axe basically slid off her chest as Clyuue finished off her slash, angling the chest piece enough that it was so oblique, the axe, rather than meeting the armour perpendicularly, hit it so sloped that it almost matched the edge of the axe. It pinged off her armour and it did hurt, but besides being somewhat sore, there would be no major damage.

Clyuue now was a bit more confident. They had just lost all their main weapons. In fact, the two that flew past her were imbedded into the wall, perfect to be used as footholds. Without hesitation, Clyuue bounced up with ease onto the wall, balancing steadily. That Vadok was smart, as he had sent a unit to block her retreat, but he was also careless. One unit would barely hold her back for a second. Ignoring him for now, Clyuue instead prepared a return gift for the Orcs.

5th Kouchi, 7th Zenchi, 5th Kenchi, 9th Zenchi

From within her outstretched left hand, Clyuue drew two connected diagonal triangles in one motion. Massive amount of mana gathered into her palm, super compressing into a large blazing fireball. It was a high level Cheytan fire spell that can produce a flare explosion equivalent to a 370kg napalm bomb and right now, it was charging in the hand of an already proven cold blooded murderer.

OOC: Better get your orcs inside the shield or the building XD
​
 
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In the end, orcs are just plain stupid and that's it
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While generally orc kind was very aware and rather afraid of magic in battle, they had expected the warlock of their group to neutralize the attack with shielding spells. Unfortunate for three of the orcs who continued to charge on was the fact that the warlock had already escaped together with Vadok. The orc furthest back, one with the long sword, was quite far from the enemy and therefore had no problem rushing into the warehouse for shelter. Three of the six had realised that the warlock was not there to protect them and therefore were forced to reatreat as fast as their strong feet carried them. Just moments before the fire potentially reaching those who continued to charge, two of the orcs became aware of the threat. One was too bloodthirsty to stop himself and find cover. Second one though started looking for an escape route. There was none. Except for the unlikely hidden exit. The orc using the force of motion did a little twist to the left and bashed through a rotten door into an old wooden house. He did not stop running, knowing that soon the house would be on flames. The third one heading towards the lady was completely unaware of anything except for the axe in his hand and the blood it begged to drink within the veins of the black armoured fellow in front of him.

The orc on the rooftop became aware of what's going to happen to his companions and had to do something. Carelessly he run towards the warrior in black, throwing an axe at her. And then one after the other. A total of three throwing axes flying in quick succession. An eyeblink later he had unsheated his shortsword and prepared himself to battle the black messiah. Still, a good 10 meters were between them, giving enough time to finish casting and likely dodge the axes. But by then, the orc expected to be on her, taking her unaware of his short-sword.

Meanwhile, a good 400 meters away on the street heading to the Night Market, a dozen of well armored guards appeared. Together with the orcish messenger. It seemed as the orc had been lucky and met Vadoks safety officer and his squad on the way to the market. They were running as fast as they could while keeping their formation. For certain a tide turner for orcs, shall the two rebels decide to continue their struggle. But to run 400 meters in armour takes a good minute if not longer.

OOC: And that's it from me until Kevin posts
 
Elvire Orleans
1+1= Fish

Elvire smiled, "Heh, you're a lot dumber than I give you credit for..." Pointing her spear at the orc in front, she had to take care of the one with its heavy orc sword from behind. As the orc in front her ran forward, aiming to strike with its shield, Elvire waited until the right moment before jumping high up into the air, clearing the Orc's path, before aiming her spear downward at the orc's neck. With her momentum, she would be able to impale the orc's neck, and allowing her to use its body as cover.
 
<Patroklos Sonata>

Patroklos was idly sipping his drink, it had been a Boring day so far, and he was alone. It gave him time to be himself. Well, as much as he could Remember of himself.

the Door was pushed open and a young woman walked in. Quickly putting on his seductive smirk he asked, "My, My! what is a lovely young Lady like you doing here Sweetheart?" He rolled his R so that it gave off a Purr like sound. the woman blushed.

"I-I-i'm looking for a..."she looked at the letter, "A Patroklos sonata?"

surprized he had gotten a letter, He raised his eyebrows. "Why, That would be me!. Now, what is it that you have for me?" He asked.

"...I have a letter here for you..!" She said as she handed him the letter.

"i see...Well thank you my friend!" He took one of her hands and layed a Kiss on it. "I do hope to see you again my Sweet!"

The Girl blushed profusely and Quickly left, He did hear a Squeal as she left. He certaintly made her happy. Looking down at the letter, He ripped it apart and skimmed through the paper inside.

He nodded at the writing and stuffed it into his pocket. He couldn't NOT take the mission he was too loyal for that. Loyal to do stuff for people. Why hadn't he learned to say no.

Patroklos sighed and went back to his drink. This was going to be annoying.

(OOC: This was really short. D: i wanted it to be better but two pages We're already taken up and it was gnawing at me.
 
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No matter how many you cut down, in the end its you all who lose
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Even when the orc was taken by surprise by the huge inhuman jump, on any other day he could and would have blocked the spear by just raising his tower shield. But today was different. From the very moment Varak had stepped out of his bed, the day had been nothing but a misery full of terrible mishappenings. His wife had brought news of two of his sons who had died in fighting pits the day before. But those were not his favorite sons. His most loved first-born son was a famous warring general in the East. Unfortunately for him, a good hour later a courier brought a letter written in Orcish. His first-born son, the master of the renowned Spearhead clan had been slaughtered by an opposing goblin clan. This was enough to make the old orc lose his temper and start a brawl with his wife. It was common in their family that they fought with each-other when they were angry or sad and it was good relief to release all that was inside them. This time though something went terribly wrong and he cracked his wifes precious neck. Mad from rage, he walked out of the house only to meet a loan shark telling him that his dept hasn't been payed back and the house will be taken away on the morrow. Blind from rage, he killed the loan shark and another dozen on the street with his bare fists. Few hours later he woke up in the cellar of Vadoks house. His boss walked to him, tried to smile and mumbled something about him getting fired due to his madness. But just when he had given up, Vadok appeared in front of the cells and called him out, asking for his aid as personal bodyguard. And so Varak agreed to fulfill his duty as he had nothing left but his job.

All of his life which had been full of blood and battles, run through his eyes when the spear came closer. As a reflex he stepped back, but managed to stop himself from completely dodging. He let the spear pierce him in the shoulder, dangerously close to the heart. A fatal wound for certain. Through the leather jacket, the spear then pierced through skin and flesh and came clean out of his back. But the dreadful orc had waited for that. While the spear was stuck in him, his shield dropped while his right hand sliced the axe at inhuman speed towards the rather defenseless dragoon. As his tower shield fell to the ground and his axe made its way closer and closer to the dragoon, his left hand grabbed the spear to hold it there. This action, considering that his shoulder and likely his heart had been pierced, was so painful that just by seeing his grimace one would scream. But the old warrior didn't.

" You bloody cat woman ... arghh ... you have to do ... glorious ... glorious shall be my death." The words were spat out, weak was the tone yet surprisingly rough and strict. Blood dribbled down his chin, his eyes were bloodshot and head dizzy.

But this was a perfect oppurtunity for the other orc who had circled behind the dragoon. As he saw the spear hit his comrade, he charged rather carefully towards the dragoon, swinging his longsword high and heavy in air, searching for flesh to cut through while being ready to defend against anything unexpected.

It didn't matter if Varak had killed the dragoon, wounded him or missed, Varak died as a warrior serving the great lord Vadok. He was happy, truly happy.

" One day ... one day the Vadoks will rule all of the Orcish lands!" These words were the very last that wondered in the deep thoughts of Varak, a proud and strong warrior of Craven Vadok.
 
Fantasia Undisclosed Location
Lisette de la Fenêtre, aka "The Window"

Lisette sighs as she looked down at the city. Seated on the balcony of a private building owned mostly by nobles in the city, she couldn't help but notice the unusual fire. As much as she wished to deny it, it seemed clear that one of her members, or someone in Final, had caused some kind of trouble. All that she could do now was to hope nothing was going wrong there.

"So, they have received their letters?"

The couriers grunted in an affirmative tone. Still looking down at the city, Lisette waved them away as she sighed.

"What could make our dearest Leader sigh?"

A wry smile formed on Lisette's face. Turning to glance at the silhouette of person speaking, Lisette greeted him," Who else, but you?"

The man laughed as he took a seat beside Lisette. The Leader quickly re-entered the house and took a bottle of wine. Pouring two glasses of wine, she passed one to the man. Finally sitting back down, she sighed again as she took a sip from her glass.

"Have you found out anything yet?"

"Nothing useful at present. What I do know are suggestions of people who might have seen Enigma. Most of them are dead."

"Most?"

The man breaks into a gruff laughter as he clapped his hands.

"Our leader is still as clever as ever! The only survivor is Reles. No family name. Orphan. Apparently one of the founding members of Final. Quite the warrior though, and quite the coward. All I know is that Enigma is hunting him."

"Well, I guess you have your mission there."


"Aw damn, don't I get to do something more fun?"

Lisette chuckled.

"Now, now. We can't have our Rank 1 speaking like that, can we?"

Taking another sip of the wine, Lisette got up to stare back down at the balcony. The man was already gone, but for Lisette, things were just beginning.


-------



Fantasia A building several blocks south of the warehouse
Master Cartographer "D"

"Damn!"

A group of men sprinted past him as he cursed. Beads of sweat trickled down his face as he peered out at the streets for more of his pursuers. "I'll never borrow from those idiots again, damnit," said the man as he ducked back into the alley. Pulling out his map, he fingered his current location and began tracing a path to freedom.

"DAMN!"

He crumpled his map as he stuffed it back into his pockets.

"I really should just call myself 'Damn'. No wonder they all call me 'D'."

Just then, the men appeared at the alley. "Damnit," he hissed as he began running deeper into the alley. Looking ahead, he sees some smoke rising from a warehouse.

"Great. Here I am trying to run from some idiots, and up ahead, a building's burning?"

Then he realized, there had to be people trying to put out the fire.

"HELP," screamed the man named D as he ran. "HELP ME!"

-------

[Events List]
Genesis
Missions as assigned
Final
Missions as assigned

Neutral
Saving the Master Cartographer


"D" is a master cartographer of Fantasia rumored to own a map that marks every single nook and cranny of the city. It is said that some details on the map are even unknown to natives. Any faction that convinces this man into their service will gain the ability to reach all parts of Fantasia in the quickest possible time.
 
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Vadok - If I'm in trouble and a stranger is in trouble, we are no longer strangers but brothers in trouble?
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As the cowardly Craven had been partially running, partly walking, he had made quite the distance South from the scenery. Yet it was only now that he realized how far his orcs were. Too far to protect him if any assassins happened to notice the commotion and thereafter their target Vadok, only protected by a warlock whose mana was being consumed by the magical shield sphere surrounding them. Just the thoughts of potential enemies sent shivers down his spine. The passing by officer of his newly formed security department with the well armed 10 warriors was a small relief as they were obviously sprinting towards the fight, to catch the criminals. Not to stay with him and defend him. He was aware though that just a word and the 11 would stop their sprint and shield him, but that would have been utterly stupid, and one thing the cowardly orc was not was stupid. For his surprise tho one from the passing group stayed with him. The only orc of the company. It took a good second to realize that it was his messenger sent to search for aid. And that he had done, obviously.

" My lord, I found the company with the officer on the way to the City Night Market. I told them of the situation and commanded them to arrest all rebels. Kill them if they don't surrender and chase if they escape." The messenger spoke in more of a humans manner than that of an orc. Guess the odd choice of an orcish messenger was justified by his higher intelligence and friendlier voice, for his kind of course. Yet he still looked scary enough to save him from brawls that weaker messengers could get into.

" I am grateful. You have always served me well. Now serve me even better and unsheat your sword. I have a bad feeling that someone is following me." The messenger did as told and unsheated his shortsword without a slightest hint of hesiation. There was no reason to doubt the loyalty of any orc under Vadoks command it seemed. Seconds later Vadoks eyes got serious. But serious in a different sense. It was more that they seemed fragile and worried than piercing and frightening.

" Help. Help me!" A man running and shouting simultaneously was always a sign for trouble, for someone at least. Vadok was almost past him when he stopped and turned his oricsh bloodshot eyes at the man.

" Hey, you! You need help? I got plenty of gold with me and a good 20 members of the fighters guild waiting for me in the City Night Market. Chances we get there together are better then chances of either of us getting anywhere else alone." Cravens tone was reasonable as were the words themselves. Only Vadoks face reflected of his frightened state and was true enough to make any believe that the half-orc, half-drow elf was in some sort of serious trouble. But with gold in his pockets the 20 fighters of the fighters guild who were waiting for him could become his best friends. This orc seemed like a safety haven. Add the fact that he was huge and muscular, had a skilled warlock with him and another orc with a shortsword in his hand.

" So you coming with us or not?" Asked the warlock while summoning another magical barrier, this time surrounding the stranger.
 
Alexander Fiest I. Ignored once more

Alexander Fiest sat slumped in his chair reading the daily report of his research. Anyone of the thugs standing silently about the room could tell that his silence meant that he was pleased for the time being. The man sat studying the pages carefully. "And what else can the necromancy project discover besides cannibalistic corpses?" He mumbled aloud.

Once each report was flipped he tossed them to the side carelessly without verbally revealing any thoughts or opinions. He was satisfied at the moment. "Any word on Final yet?" Alexander asked aloud.

Four men in suits standing near the doorway shuffled a bit before one of them shook their heads. Alexander's mouth twitched a bit before he stood and strode toward the exit. He was furious. How dare they ignore his attempt to join yet again! He had only sent out numerous letters, rumors and met with one member briefly. How could they be so oblivious?! So insulting! Alexander couldn't stand it.

He stomped up a flight of wooden steps nearly breaking one and tripping over another. His fury at the group had to e taken out somewhere. The entrance of his tiny building contained his jacket and weaponry waiting for him. The man set out to the streets. It looked as if the only way he would be able to get his mind clear was to destroy Final by force or worm his way in and silently dispose of them one by one. Through gritted teeth he muttered "Be on watch, send a message to Hawthorne about a meeting this evening at my place."

"Y-yessir." replied one of his employees.

One slam of a door later and Alexander was out in the streets of Fantasia looking to settle this personal matter once and for all.
 
<Patroklos Sonata ~ Answer's in plain sight.>

Patroklos Idly tossed his bottle away, His drink's finished. Stretching he runs a hand over his stubble while giving the letter he recieved quite the bit of hate.

It's not that he didn't like doing missions, Especially for the mercenary group. But still....They could easily pin the searching on some lower rank idiot and let him think He's a hero for finding the intruder.

then Patroklos would precede to murder the kid for he should have been loyal enough to do tha-"oh what the hell."

Patroklos sighed, He just really couldn't say no, could he? Patroklos quickly grabbed the letter and walked out of the room.

"the treasurer...." so it was the treasurer that was acting suspiciously last? sad, the child was quite an interesting specimin, at least- for a treasurer.

Continuing along the many hallway's and rooms of the Mercenary's little hideout, he made a quick little detour to his room and retrieved his weapons, If the treasurer had something to do with this, things could get Nasty.

Patroklos relooked over the letter, it wasn't detailed but it gave off the bare minimum, yet it wasn't well disguised. He was lucky the girl had gone straight to him, if it was intercepted the culprit could've gotten away. then again, he still had a chance. The treasurer was the main suspect, or at least an important figure, so the letter had said.

"A foul wind blows your way, Treasurer cherie."
 
Elvire Orleans
Damned Orcs

Although the Orc proved to be somewhat easy to kill. The enemy tried a last ditch maneuver, swinging his axe at her. The Felidian let go of the spear and quickly jumped away to avoid the swing, but as she landed on her feet she saw a giant blade come down on her. Elvire could see from the momentum that she would not be able to dodge it in time, yet she was willing to try anyway. Elvire quickly moved to the left, the blade striking the back side of her left leg, and left a large gash in the back of her leg as she rolled out to safety. She then quickly put her hand over her mouth as she breathed in, her mouth filling with water. She then exhaled, pushing out water with pressure high enough to cut through steel, with the intent of fatally wounding the orc.
 
Clyuue en Celle Zwihander en Quowjaz oz Soleire YEqeiyu

Time to escape

As expected of orcs. Those that weren't drowning in blood lust noticed the potency and danger of the spell Clyuue was charging. One fled into the warehouse, the safest place to go with its stone structure. The rest either scattered or charged to their impending doom. Three pivoted and ran as fast as they could, one dove into a rotten timber house and the last few just kept going forward. It was curtains for this fight. From the corners of her eyes, Clyuue spotted that Elvire had skewered a rather giant of an Orc. If she aimed away from her, then most of her fire should be blocked by his body. It was all good. Intensifying for a second, the fiery doom shot out from Clyuue's palm, aimed straight at the head of the charging Orc. In an instant, his entire head was engulfed in flames soon followed by his body and the subsequent flames bathed the entire opening in burning fire. The Orcs that weren't inside any cover were doomed. It wasn't pretty for the Orcs, as their eyeball liquids evaporated, their skin was charred to a crisp and their blood instantly boiled. It took only 5 seconds for those caught in the initial giant blast to die, falling to the ground in one charred, black hunk, with the slightest of breeze would probably cause it to crumble to ash. The surrounding wooden buildings were also not lucky, instantly turning into an inferno as well, though the walls took the brunt of the blast.

That is done....

Elvire was going to have to deal with her Orcs herself as Clyuue had her own one to deal with. That and definitely, reinforcements were coming. Three axes flew towards her as she spun around, one missing completely while another clipped her shoulder and the last she deflected. By then, the Orc was all over her, his short sword came down overhead, leaving barely enough time for Clyuue to raise her own sword and block. Locked swords, both warriors pushed with their might, but time wasn't something she could afford. Rather than going crazy in a battle of strength, Clyuue pivoted once more, this time, dipping her sword tip downwards as she right leg twisted leftwards. The Orc, putting so much strength, tumbled forward, his head lunging past Clyuue under her arm and with one swift motion, she brought a heavy elbow down onto the back of his neck. Unlike a rank amateur, the Orc did not lose total balance when he stumbled forward, and his neck was not as weak as the other more frail race. But repeated armoured elbow strikes would hurt anyone and it did bring him to his knees. Without a second of hesitation, Clyuue reversed her grip on her sword and plunged the blade straight between two of his cervical vertebrae. Her path was clear. Only one more thing to do. With her feet, Clyuue lifted one of the throwing axes up into the air before catching and hurling it at the Orc going for Elvire's back. It was dead on target, but whether it kills him or deters him from his strike, it was as much as she can do. She had to flee now.

~~~~~~~~~~~
.
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Things were not looking too bright. Clyuue has been rooftop running for a few minutes already but there were patrols everywhere, from lawmen to Orcs. She can only hope that Elvire had somehow made it away unscathed but now wasn't the time to be worrying over others. She herself wasn't in a position for that. The Dark Lord armour was substantially heavier than her Divine Emissary armour. That meant the normal rooftops of Fantasia was getting a good beating as she ran. Already, several tiles have broken and she had made a few holes on a few unfortunate houses.

KEEP SEARCHIN' THAT BASTARD SHOULD BE AROUND SOMEWHERE!

Already, Orc patrols were swarming closer to her position. In front was a rather unique looking building and it looked rather sturdy. It was even better since the one she was on now, was a level higher. Taking a running jump, Clyuue launched herself off of the rooftop and went into a diving roll onto the next.... or so she wanted. Rather than a nice roll, she barreled through the "sturdy" roof of the building on impact, rolled and smashed into a stack of barrels and crate, creating a large ruckus that was hard to ignore for the household. Clyuue laid there stunned, head spinning and her body tangled amongst iron hoops and wooden boards. She floundered to get herself free before anyone came in to investigate

OOC: This is the Merchant place attic Solid
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