[M] hear the roar and you will know you're alive

Boreas Conflict II, Final Battle, Group 3

POSTED: Mon Jan 30, 2017 1:44 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

28 Jan. 48 hour reply window. Text tables only. And I'd like Scorpius to kill Mathilda if no one objects...
Also, sorry for the delay, feel free to skip to the last three paragraphs for the plot relevant info. [ 706 ]

Soft pink skin had healed over his wounds from the previous battles making fresh scars, medals of valor, to add to the many markings disrupting the pitch black of his thick pelage. A pale hand touched one such scar gingerly and a dark hand lowered to gently rest atop it, sharp red eyes meeting soft opposing blues for a moment before all hands fell away and the Beast rose to a stand, the Dove backing away. There would be time for quiet tender moments later, when all conflict and warfare came to and end and finally, finally, the needless bloodshed would be over.

Scorpius was tired. He ate well, he slept well, and he felt as well as he always did, but he was still tired. Tired of patrolling, tired of scouting, and tired of searching and fighting and killing these mindless miscreants who thought themselves stronger and smarter than Salsola. He wore nothing but his cloak when left his home and tacked his horse simply - blanket, saddle, hackamore - as he would not be needing her for very long. He did not even disguise his scent, as it wouldn't matter where he was going, and if anything he wanted them to know who it was that was opposing them, he wanted them to know who it was that was killing them.

Midnight carried him to the meeting point where he dismounted the black beaut and shed his heavy winter cloak, folding it neatly and securing it to her saddle before turning the faithful mare toward home and slapping her firmly upon the rump, spurring her to run back where Wretch eagerly awaited her return. Alone still, the Beast took a moment to shift down from his towering optime into his hulking halfling form, a thick shaggy mane falling over broad and muscular shoulders. His rump dropped unceremoniously upon the snow-dappled earth as he awaited the rest of the individuals he was told would accompany him. He would be outnumbered by Infernians on this endeavor, which disappointed him greatly, but as always he would make the best out of what he had to work with.

He assumed control the moment everyone was assembled, he didn't care if he was the only Salsolan, the only male, the only wolf. It was only fitting that he lead - he was the largest, the strongest, the highest ranking, the most experienced - and he didn't care if they didn't like it. Now was not the time for dwelling upon petty things. They had agreed to stand united against a common enemy and for now they stood as war-bound allies and after all qualms were settled the group was on the move, weaving and winding through the forest until they stopped at a safe and strategic position upon the eastern periphery of the once-hidden Boreas camp.

A still and stable silence settled in all around them, a terrible quiet that was always a harbinger of terrible things to come, the calm before the storm, the ebb before the tide. He could hear his own slow and steady heartbeat in the serenity he had allowed himself to be engulfed within as he waited, patiently, for the perfect moment. Too early and everything would be ruined, too late and everything would be ruined. The plan would only work if everyone did their part to the letter, if every group played their respective role to a tee, and Scorpius would expect nothing less than perfection from his group.

Suddenly, a great commotion erupted within the camp and the sounds of frenzied movement shattered the stillness as voices and calls and cries rang out. Scorpius let a monstrous growl thunder from his maw as his massive form surged forward and propelled headlong into the fray, leading the charge. Red eyes did not look back to see if the Infernians followed, neither did dark ears turn to listen. All of his senses were focused forward, toward the enemy, toward the tall and thickly built femme as she turned from one of her comrades and stared at the Hellhound charging toward her. She said something but it fell upon unhearing ears, and when her weapon went up, powerful jaws gaped as the Beast lunged forward.





Avatar by Eve; Siggy by Songbird
Salsola
The Henchman (NPC)
User avatar
Eve
Cazador, Veleno
VIRULENT
Valar Morghulis

POSTED: Mon Jan 30, 2017 11:09 am

The end came swiftly

Her reason for being here, rather than within the medical hut back in Inferni or at the ready somewhere in the distance for those involved within this battle was simple. They had hurt Vesper, the one face she'd come to rely upon since joining Inferni with her family. Harosheth had wanted her help as a healer back home and close by but it was not her only duty as far as she was concerned. As something of a battle medic, she knew how to heal others in the midst of a battle or even outside of one and she had been training for what felt like years to take care of those who conspired to kill and hurt those she cared for.

A ruthless and cruel fighter, she'd wasted no time once she heard of the plan to attack the mutts who had nearly killed Vesper, who had injured more than just one coyote in their faithless and gutless venture to seek revenge on Inferni and Salsola for the first war.

She had arrived, already as ready as she could be, upon all fours and within the bristled halfling form. While she did not know many of those who were here, she could see that the group mainly consisted of Infernians and one Salsolan male with dark fur and red eyes. She knew very little of the Salsolans. Before the war, she might have considered the possibility of learning more about them. Now, she held no interest in even greeting the man by his name. When the commotion of war finally drew to their ears and the Scorpius drove forward with a growl, Fang did not make a sound other than the commotion of her feet baring against the earth.

Her path was trained and not without complication. She first dodged a hammer that struck out at her from an angle off to her side, moving to avoid a second from the very same person when the limping woman missed. It was only then that her vision trained on the other figure before her, a burly man fidgeting a short distance away from her that seemed to be watching the battle, rather than joining in, his attention stolen however briefly by Scorpius going for the woman with a hoe. Blue eyes scrunched and she bound toward him with a snarl, not stopping to watch or see if the woman who'd been trying to hit her with a hammer was still on her tail.

She launched herself from the ground only a short moment before reaching Ross. By the time she'd gotten close, the man had already spotted her and was reaching for a blade at his waist. Too slow, she felt her weight crushing against him, her teeth moving to wrap around his shoulder, head jerking to rip into soft flesh and fur.

Just looking to injure Ross. Fang will probably end up with a shoulder slash herself, a cracked rib and a few bruises. No problem with Scorpius taking Mathilda. I'll throw Fang anyone's way if they want me to. :) | [wc — 473] template by hilli
Anita "Fang" Espinoza


POSTED: Tue Jan 31, 2017 1:00 pm

I'd like to claim killing Edwidge if possible, but it's okay if someone else really wants her. ^^


Quiet and numb, Dove lagged behind the others of Inferni en route to the meeting point.

She wasn't a fighter. She was a flower-child, a thing of song and dance born into a sunlit world. Though the Juniper had been carved out of her and tragedy had left the Reverie a cold and hollow shell of what should have been, still she was not a fighter. Still she resisted conflict. Bloodshed. Death.

Yet there she was.

She didn't believe in all the ideals of Inferni. She wasn't a racist. Blood ties and the Lykoi name she boasted did not mean enough to her to defend the clan. To put up her life on their behalf.

Yet there she was, because her brother was missing.

If they had gotten him like they had gotten Vesper, they would find River Lark here. More torn up, more scarred, maybe. Dove didn't care, not as long as he was alive. She would raise hell as vengeance and retribution for his scars and trauma the second she could see it with her own eyes—but until then, she cared only about whether he was alive.

She was assigned to a pinching point, far from the den or lair where her brother might have been held. She hated it, but knew it for the best; she could scarcely aim her arrows and was no good in a scrap. She would get where she needed to be later. Dove didn't know the behemoth claiming to be from Salsola, and little more than a face or hearsay of a name for Fang and Annabeth. Good enough.

The storm began, and the pinching group lunged. Lining the back at full speed and with her arrows at the ready, she moved. Scared and angry, she set free arrow after arrow, each loosely aimed. These were distractions, things to avoid, to listen to, to take the focus while those of claw and fang took advantage.

The only arrow to near its target took the hammer-slinging woman by surprise as she fled the attack on their base at a limp. She was not so dextrous, and the arrow whizzed between ear and shoulder and lifted her hair. Scrutinizing eyes followed it to the Reverie far away, but for now, she raised her hammer and swung for the black monster—the biggest, most obvious threat up close—as he rounded on their group.

all the colors mix together to gray
Cour des Miracles
DEAD
User avatar
Lin
Luperci Chaos Star
smoke and mirrors
BAPTISM BY FIRE

POSTED: Tue Jan 31, 2017 7:15 pm

    Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be Thy name. It felt like too long between victories, their numbers beginning to dwindle beyond repair. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done. Disillusionment was easy to get attached to, their cause being tore apart with each passing moment. On earth as it is in Heaven. All they wished to go was purify this land, send the heathens and the scum of the earth back from whence they had come. Sinners needed to atone for what they had done. All the injustices of the world laid upon their shoulders. Surely the Word of the Lord could not be wrong? And lead us not into temptation. But so many it seemed had been drawn towards a lack of conviction. The deaths within their ranks slowly succumbing to some kind of inevitable outcome. But deliver us from evil. No, they would need to remain firm. Take hope in the truth and the victory that the Lord had promised to them. They were the chosen ones, they would be seated at the right hand of the Almighty. For thine is the Kingdom, the power, and the glory. All this was for the glory of the Lord, for He had been the one to give them purpose. He had saved the man from the throes of wretchedness. Forever and ever. Amen.

    Methuselah sighed softly, his breath hanging in the cold air like storm clouds. Things had been relatively quiet, at least since those foolish coyotes and their Sasola allies had blundered upon their camp. The soldier had wondered whether those of Boreas would move, thinking it would be a wise action. Though nothing much had come of it, save for yet more trepidation filling the hearts of the wolves from Zion. Remain steady, Child of the Lord! The Capello man had not wished to swerve in his desire to see all their plans come to fruition. But with each passing day it was getting harder and harder to come up with the zeal needed to do so. This day it seemed would be no different. They arrived swiftly and without presumption, a wave of Infernians and Salsolans, their intention clear as the expression they bore on their faces. The large brute had been tending to a fire upon their arrival, but once the initial shout went up, Methuselah swiftly grabbed his weapon, the club being the only thing between him and teeth and claws, and headed towards the first group he spied.

    Ice blue gaze alighted upon a figure in Secui form, a female heathen reeking of coyote stench. “For the wages of sin is death!” the Boreas soldier hissed as he bounded along the winter ground. He could see his fellow wolf brother – Ross – struggling with the she-coyote. How dare they come here! How dare they believe themselves to be worthy of bringing such a fight to the doorsteps of those chosen by the Most High! Anger coursed through his veins, lending strength and vigour to his muscles. With snarls of contempt and ire, Methuselah threw himself into the fray, determined to do what he had set out to do in this forsaken place initially – rid every filthy coyote from the world, deprive them of life. Today would be the day when every single heathen breathed their last.

      Word Count: 553
      Form: Optime
      OOC: Dread, feel free to retaliate in turn c;
      Summary: Armed with his club, Meth goes towards where Fang has Ross.
it's not the lies that you sing

but what the silence will scream
Loners
DEAD
User avatar
Pi
Luperci

POSTED: Sat Feb 04, 2017 2:56 am

Shorter now that SoSu is over~ [ 308 ]

Too slow. Snapping teeth connected with the soft fur and flesh and muscle of her closest forearm as his monstrous form reared up and collided with hers, the femme tipping back from the momentum and falling beneath him.

A few arrows whizzed by, poorly aimed from both sides, but none seemed to find their mark. A couple of them drew close, one from far ahead and the closer one from near behind, but the Beast's concern was only with his target.

Pinned beneath him with her arm still lodged in his jaws the burly femme was powerless, but she - like he - was not alone. Another femme armed with a hammer had hobbled her way over from where she dodged a few arrows and took a few swings at his allies before venturing to rescue her friend, her aim inevitably fouled by the burly femme's struggling.

A sharp yank jerked Scorpius to the side just slightly - just enough - and what would have been a near fatal blow to the head turned into a glancing blow down his shoulder, which succeeded in summoning an unearthly roar from the Hellhound and the unwitting release of his captive opponent's arm.

Freed, the burly femme scrambled out from under him as Scorpius turned his attention to the hammer weilding femme for a moment, a snapping lunge causing her to stagger backward slightly as the other found her weapon and drew it high to strike the Beast with a renewed and pain fueled fury.

Not about to be caught off guard again Scorpius redirected his next attack back to his original foe, his hulking form dashing forward again aimed at her already injured arm - a fresh weakness - but instead his teeth found the wood of her weapon as she lowered it to block.





Avatar by Eve; Siggy by Songbird
Salsola
The Henchman (NPC)
User avatar
Eve
Cazador, Veleno
VIRULENT
Valar Morghulis

POSTED: Tue Feb 07, 2017 8:59 pm

The end came swiftly

The struggle between the two canines was futile. As much as she inched forward, the man in her grasp pushed her back. After all, she didn't have the dignified feet of a two-legged creature at her disposal in this form, only the regular stance of a four-legged canine that was little to no help in seeking purchase against the ground that deteriorated and pushed back as she mounted her assault and snapped teeth deeper into flesh that was unyielding aside from blood that filled her lips and dripped down her muzzle. All she really did was maul him in the end.

He had apparently grown tired and ignorant of the pain or he was just unwilling to go down and die like a good boy in the fray of their life or death battle.

Fang felt the cuff of a hand against her ears as the strange male tangled at her, only getting one good hit in while her mouth filled with blood from his shoulder, the force of his blow knocking a ring into her senses that nearly drowned out the sound of a stranger approaching the fray from one of her less favored sides. Despite her earlier goals of killing the stranger she'd targeted first, the one who approached looked far more dangerous. Perhaps it was the club that struck toward her, only missing by an inch as she backtracked, swiping at his hand with a heavy, clawed paw that was meant to catch against fur and skin and render flesh.

Either way, she felt herself caught in the midst of two canines. One who was unarmed and probably more of a nuisance than anything, especially with a half-useless arm that hung limp at his side and the other, an unyielding wolf who carried himself with the demeanor of someone who was using this as a quest for their god. That is partially what she heard as she evaded his blow with a heavy snarl, backstepping in order to step out of the reach of Meth's club and to avoid the lingering hatred in the stare of the twitching Ross who glared with a fierceness that could have been anger or fright.

Fang manages to dodge Meth's club when he jumps into the fray and claws at his wrist in the process. | [wc — 364] template by hilli
Anita "Fang" Espinoza


POSTED: Wed Feb 08, 2017 12:53 pm

Edwidge has been (accidentally) shot dead. Dove is frantically shooting at basically all opponents, so feel free to have them miss, distract or hit to suit your needs.


Each arrow pulled from the quiver on her back touched at the bowstring with increasing numbness, as if the callouses at her fingertips had quietly numbed her body and mind as a whole. Though her heart pounded and her eyes read certain fear, the Reverie's arms moved mechanically: serving their purpose, like a nameless face in a pointless war should.

Both of her partners struggled against a pair of opponents each—Dove was grateful, given her own flagrant lack of training, but she was of no help to them if her arrows continued to miss. Basilio's instructions echoed in her mind and she adjusted her posture accordingly, accuracy following suit. But when the hammer glanced the Salsolan's shoulder and the sickly thud resonated in Dove's ears, the Infernian felt her stomach heave and for a moment she staggered, mortified.

The hammer was raised high for a second strike while Scorpius turned away, and as she cried out for him to watch out, the terrified tremor in Dove's fingers released the drawn and hesitating arrow.

With a hum on the wind, it pierced across the throat of the hammer-woman and faltered on the other side. The woman gurgled, staggered, and fell to her knees in hopeless effort to push the radpily leaking blood and air back in. In time, she sunk to the ground and stopped moving.

Dove didn't move for a while, either.

Something snapped, and it shut off her mind. An arrow pressed to the bowstring, and she continued her assault at every opening she found.

all the colors mix together to gray
Cour des Miracles
DEAD
User avatar
Lin
Luperci Chaos Star
smoke and mirrors
BAPTISM BY FIRE

POSTED: Wed Feb 08, 2017 3:21 pm

She should have with them, but a moment diversion left her disoriented and a little lost, mostly thanks to a bit of a moment's pause to abate certain calls of nature that were unavoidable. She felt ferociously embarrassed about the need but had been quite quiet about her necessary side-trip. After that, she found that the trail had gotten a little foggy until she finally found it again, only maybe a few moments later than she ought to have been.

The feeling of being late passed as she surveyed the scene, feeling the anger rising in her mouth as her brethren faced off at last against these men and women who attacked them ferociously without thought. Unlike some of her Infernian companions, she did not much mind the wolf man leading them; he was not Alistair and that meant she did not mind at all who he was as long as they were not double-crossed later on.

She saw the woman firing almost indescriminantly at their opponents, watching as arrows whistled through the air. Dangerous and reckless. Part of her approved greatly, the other half worried desperately that an arrow might not end up in her own neck.

There was not any time to spare so Anna merely moved forward wielding the unglamorous small hammer that she was working on to mimic the grand one she could not use with any good decency. Too big to swing, she almost regretted making it, if only it did not look quite so nice. But the small one in her hand was heavy but light enough that a single-handed swing was reasonable enough to do.

And Anna went in swinging, thinking darkly of the one using a hammer as well. Hers was better, if only because she had made it herself. But it did not matter as the woman was dead and the hammer useless in a corpse's hands. She nudged the gurgling woman aside and burst forward toward Meth, hammer down but hand out to grab the man first with the free arm.

Anna is late to the party because I suck. Anna is going towards Meth.

Annabeth de Fonte


signature by Dark

User avatar
Gen
Luperci
liberi fatali
excitate vos e somno

POSTED: Sun Feb 26, 2017 11:29 pm

    Beware! The woman dodged his blow and the Boreas man found himself snarling angrily. “You will die! You will all die!” Behind the brown furred Infernian, Methuselah spied his brother in arms, Ross fading swiftly. The wolf from Zion couldn’t discern the complete extent of the other man’s injuries but knowing that these filthy heathens had harmed a Chosen one riled him up no end. While they seek to destroy, fear not My child! Even in the midst of battle, I am with you. The large brute felt teeth manage to tear across his hand, blooding emerging from the wound with little hesitation. The pain dulled his senses for a moment, enough to make him distracted so as not to see the second Infernian woman armed with a hammer aiming for him. The sounds of arrows as they soared through the air cut through the raging crescendo that surged around the Boreas camp.

    As Anna came towards him, Methuselah stumbled backwards to avoid her onslaught, only to forget about his initial assailant – Fang – in the process. Deadly realisation flickered across his face as a moment of despair crossed his features. He was outnumbered, dangerously so. Beware, beware! Methuselah spun on his haunches, trying desperately to evade his attackers – only to be struck in the side by a roaming arrow. Howling with pain, the Boreas wolf called out. “My Lord, my Almighty! Help me!” Lo, I am with you always. The wolf from Zion scrambled backwards, feet sinking into the ground that had become damp with blood, likely his own. There is a time for everything under Heaven. Methuselah stumbled in a haze, clutching furtively at his side. He realised that in the commotion he had lost his weapon, and now, being injured, the wolf came to the horrific realisation that if he didn’t leave he would die.

    Mindful of the two Infernian women who had targeted him, the large male continued trying to force his way through the throng of the battle, looking for any possible place to escape. But it seemed hopeless, for enemies had seemingly appeared everywhere he looked. Ask and it shall be given to you. Suddenly he spied a gap in the defences, and with every fibre of his being, the Capello man forged forwards on unsteady feet. For what greater thing is there but for a soldier of the Lord to die for the cause? But Methuselah, suddenly confronted with the prospect of death found himself unwilling to succumb to it. So he ran, his feet trying to take him as far away from the cursed place as possible. Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned. And the wages of sin is death.

      Word Count: 448
      Form: Optime
      OOC: Exit Meth! To die later
      Summary: Gets bitten on his hand, sees Anna. Tries to avoid, forgets about Fang. Gets shot with an arrow (good work Dove), realises he cannot win. Runs away like the coward he is
it's not the lies that you sing

but what the silence will scream
Loners
DEAD
User avatar
Pi
Luperci

Dead Topics