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Unread 27th of October, 2004, 11:42
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Erendiox
Bodak [GM]

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Join Date: Apr 2004
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Shaedra and Silver Wind



You two wait in the darkness, keeping composed in the calm before battle. Faint voices and movements can barely be hear over the audiable drip drip of the cave moisture. To your relief, Terrisque crawls silently on the ceiling of the tunnel, silent and out of sight. Apparantly he will take a part in the battle as well. Indurian steps lightly to stand beside Silver Wind and Kheervis, giving her a nod of confidence, and hiding the residual glow of the brilliant artifact within his tattered robes. All are focused on Shaedra and her role to be fulfilled. You wait not much longer, for within short minutes you can hear clearly the rough clatter of infantry in heavy armor. They are within sight in the moments afterward, moving at a hastened march. With the glow of the gemstones, you can clearly make out their Dragonblooded leaders following closely behind them.



A bead of sweat rolls down Shaedra's brow. Timing will be of the essence to pull this off efficiently. The troops get closer and closer. Praying that they don't spot you too soon, you force yourself to hold off until there are enough of them in range. Finally, when you just can't wait any longer, you clap essence charged hands together, snapping the first of several steps into motion for casting the spell. Bellowing out ancient words as fast as you can, you feel the surge of power permiate your being, just seconds away from materializing into its deadly form. The troops, taken by surprise and utterly terrified by this sudden display of anathema power, panic and rush backward into the tunnel, hoping to escape a horrific demise at the hands of exalted sorcery. Shaedra's timing, although not quite perfect, was enough to snag a good number of troops, and 2 of the dragonblooded in the solid fog of delicate glass. As the magic is let loose, the sound of shattering glass against metal plates, as well as, more audiably, the agonized shrieks of the the victimized troops, can be heard echoing through the tunnels of the entire mountain. While 8 men each fall into a bloodied heap, the two dragonblooded caught are not so easily destroyed. One, a thin, pale woman dressed in blue robes holds up her hand, palm forward, and shouts a quick phrase in the language of sorcery. The obsidian, upon coming near her, collides with a brilliant emerald aura, breaks down violently back into its raw, energy form, and is sent off in every direction, decorating the scene with uncontrolled explosions. One particularly large shard of energy ricochets off toward another infantry, whos chest is promptly impaled, and his body instantly scarred beyond recognition. The other Dragonblood, caught slightly off footing, raises his arms in a last ditch effort to ward off the oncoming spell. A flurry of glass strikes him head on, gleaming inbetween the small weaknesses of his articulated plate. Blood runs down both his cheeks as he brings a mangled hand to clutch a deeper wound on his side. The other hand goes for his sword...

[Initiative order: Terresque, Indurian, Grey DB, Infantry, Shaedra, Silver Wind, White DB, Blue DB, Orange DB]