You'll have to do better than that

DracoMancer. Plant Magician. 146. Owner of Thon Flonshade. Groupleader of Darqa Castcar, Juvion Modord, Dynas Soaro, Leodath Memor and Maia Anthousa Fortuin.

[elf-of-the-earth]

Leaf beats Rock beats Scissors || Sadar & Bane vs. Loriente

[loriente-seasel]

@tyren-bane​

Bane bit his lip, as he saw the girl’s smile remain as she hid in her plant fortress, but there was no time to be unnerved by her confidence. It made Bane briefly wonder if she was friends with the captain. If he had been alone, he would have run, but it wasn’t an option with Sadar. The boy was eager for blood and would have reported Bane in an instant for the action and then – no more library – Godsdamn that Deas for picking the perfect carrot to bait Bane’s interest.

There was nothing for it now though, the first blow had been struck; now there was nothing left to do but finish it – one way or another. Well at least the trick had confirmed one of his suspicions – this girl was undoubtedly a plant magician.

Bane somewhat doubted Sadar would take much more orders (he already looked exhausted from his previous efforts) but he gave an order anyways, “Try and keep her in there.” Bane gathered his magic and became a blur. Thank the gods he had brought his prototypes today. It was a risk to use them, but they had tested well enough on his farm.

He lobbed one of the grenades at the encircling ring of trees the girl was hiding under and saw it burst and burn across the dry tree branches perfectly. He tried to not yelp with excitement at the success. Bane zipped around the structure and threw 2 more of the grenades within a millisecond of the first landing. The structure began to become a burning dome of fire.

@elf-of-the-earth

What an idiot, you are! He thought to himself when the Mancer showed her Magic, making most of his usage of extensive strength for naught. He tried not to sneer and look fierce as he continued to manipulate the ground, trying to root out the trees. Bane seemed not to move, as if he was trying to make something of the situation. Wasn’t it obvious? The woman was a Plant Magician and using her Magic to create a shelter for herself while she sapped from his efforts.

He looked up at Bane almost desperately. He didn’t want to listen to the command, something within him told him to ignore it, and continue one, severe the connection with the ground so he could regain strength, not continue losing it. But the Purple Magician disappeared in a blur of speed, and there was nothing left to say for Sadar.

A fire started at one of the trees, and considering it was Bane, Sadar stopped the connection. Pulling his mind back was easy, trying to stay standing after that not so much. He felt a bit dizzy, but as soon as he was able to see clearly, he was back on foot, closing the distance between himself and the dome structure to see what he could mean for them in close combat.

Impressed by her own knowledge of structure, she collected her strength while she sat safely within the half collapsed trees, growing root there where the Ground Magician sought to destroy the plant life. She noticed right away that she was stronger, her power over the ground they walked on was more present, and she could draw him back by growing root where he tried to split the ground, or fight back where he wanted to bring down the trees. She could now barely see them through the thick branches and covering leafs, however she could feel awareness through the plants. 

The second Knight had moved, moved faster than possible, faster than an elf: just as fast as a Purple Magician. A Color and an Elemental. She had the advantage. The Purple started to throw what looked like bombs at her fortress, harming the trees when fire erupted from the bombs. The burning smell hit her nostrils hard. She stopped collecting, and forced herself to a stand. The Ground Magician has pulled back: good. It was time to catch a hare. 

Roots and branches shot out from her fortress at the Purple Magician, searching to harm him. If she could take out one now, defeating the other would be easier. 

[elf-of-the-earth]

Leaf beats Rock beats Scissors || Sadar & Bane vs. Loriente

[loriente-seasel]

Loriente established the threat, she noticed the weight change on the healthy grass as one of the Knights turned towards her. From this distance she could only make out his appearance, not in any kind of details, but guessing the way the two became stuck in conversation, they were considering their options. She had no idea how to continue, so stayed in her place, the tree at her side gave her strength. Life from her fingertips touched the bark of the tree and flowed down to its heart.

Here under the canopy of trees, she knew she had an advantage. Should the two Knights decide not to engage, she would have lost nothing. Her face turned into a cruel smile when she thought of how she may face off against two enemies. Despite the numbers, Loriente had much experience in age and Magic, even to defeat Knights of similar statue as her. She braced for a fight. One of them was walking towards her. 

[elf-of-the-earth]

Sadar wasn’t too good on gifts on the battlefield, certainly not petty gifts like this one. He took it anyway, thinking that maybe if his body couldn’t pull through on the pain or his Magic was unable to protect him, he would have need of using it. ‘Thanks,’ he said with a grunt, and focussed back on what was happening. Not minding so much the limb in his walk or the pain when he leaned on it, it kept him sharp.

Sensing something was off, Sadar redirected his gaze away from Bane, he was thinking of making some offensive joke to making the situation more disrupted, but he was in battle, couldn’t have that right now. He just nodded. ‘Yeah, sure, sounds good,’ he added roughly. At the mention of not using ‘sir’ he smirked again, knowing very well that he would make use of the useless title once more, he would gladly. 

He felt his skin crawl at the mention of the Lord of Demons, could be Bane was right, even though it was a sight of an extreme, and he didn’t believe it was possible. Yet, who knew. That thought made him frightful. ‘That sounds disheartening,’ he said, and bit his lip in anticipation, when Bane moved forward. Edging in on their enemy. Hoping for a second that they would be the first to attack, Sadar could run pretty fast, and he knew Bane could run pretty, pretty fast as well. He loosened his steel axe from his back and joined the Purple Magician in their slow approach.

[tyren-bane]

Bane stared at the figure in the distance as they slowly approached her. It seemed to be a female, possibly a wood elf. She didn’t look very strong, but even from this distance, Bane could see her posture was confident. This added to his discomforting thoughts that the Mancer’s had sent only one solider to this field. He was also deftly aware of the fact that them approaching her gave her a huge tactical advantage. Bane needed to get her to start coming towards them, as well as know what she could do… and fast.

Then Bane noticed she seemed to be hanging towards the treeline. A shadow magician? Possibly a plant magician? Either way, it was becoming more apparent she might have even more of an advantage under the cover of the trees. “Sadar…” Bane said, never taking his eyes off of the girl. “You think you can get our mouse to come out of those woods and play?”

[elf-of-the-earth]

For some reason, Sadar knew Bane would examine and spy on their enemy, giving him enough time to watch their surroundings. The ground was pretty dry from the little rain and the many fights. He could use it very easily, but it was harder to move. Mostly dust. He watched over the Purple Magician’s shoulder as they neared their opponent. The woman - a blonde score - was looking pretty sneaky, and he doubted he even wanted to come closer. 

Sadar looked up in a moment of misunderstanding as Bane called to him. Then he nodded, a grin crossed his face. He could do that. ‘I think I have a good chance,’ he said. He extended his feeling of the ground under his feet to where she was standing. It costed a lot of energy to pull off such tricks, especially as he wasn’t just feeling, he was going to manipulate. The ground started to shake, and he made sure to root out most of the trees around their figure, sending them toppling to the ground. 

[loriente-seasel]

Her smile didn’t fade. Loriente kept close to the forest, to the trees that surrounded her, the roots that flowed through the ground. She could make her stand here easily, if she walked away from the edge, she might have a lessened advantage, but the might of the forest reached far. The one became two, and both soldiers walked her way. 

Their armor she recognized as Knight’s, Magicians. They confirmed her suspicion when the last Knight in line started to manipulate the ground. She could feel his presence around him. But his attacked seemed to not consider her own Magic. She smirked, the trees were moving downward, and she extended her Magic to keep them from falling, roots pulled through the ground and up at the trees, growing around her. She tapped into his movement of the ground to strengthen it where he had left his mark. Her little spot by the trees was now a fortress of bark and roots. 

[elf-of-the-earth]

Leaf beats Rock beats Scissors || Sadar & Bane vs. Loriente

[elf-of-the-earth]

Sadar was momentarily confused by the warm weather, his eyes directed to the sky, when he saw a flash of movement on his side. Bane was pointing at the leg he was hobbling on. ‘Sure I did,’ he said, lied more likely. Then got back on that initial reaction. ‘Well, not really a Blue Magician, but she’s good with healing and such,’ he confessed. Odaphne had stared at the wound, given him some potions, a fresh bandage, and told him to go to a Blue Magician. Oh hell, he was such a bad listener. 

‘Like a lot of guessing and gissing at what those Cold North bastards are up to,’ Sadar replied, with slight annoyance. Scouting was initially easy, he could pick up vibrations in the ground to find if karts were moving around. It was the reporting back that bothered him. ‘Also, this field is as empty as my patience, they probably don’t have that much interest in opening up some route here,’ he mentioned. Sure, he could nag all he wanted, they would eventually end up scouting and reporting anyway. 

Bane gestured him to the side, moving in a different direction, when suddenly he felt the WoodElf tense. He sought to see whatever Bane had seen, but could not press a point. Raising his nose, he nodded with slight deviance at his failure. ‘Let’s just have a look what we might be up against first,’ he reacted, placing his hand on Bane’s shoulder to steady his pained leg on the ground. Closing his eyes he focussed on the ground around him, it took some of his strength to reach far enough for him to have a single individual right on the map. Pulling back his conscious, he took a deep breath. ‘One person, sir,’ he said, his face pulled in a smirk as he directed such an useless title to the Plant Magician. ‘Think we can take one person?’ 

[tyren-bane]

Bane gave a dissatisfied grunt. It was sloppy to pass over effective healing in times of battle – even if most of the blue magicians on the field were stuck up little shits. Bane could understand the impulse to avoid them, but not when it would give him a marked disadvantage in a fight – Still, there was no point quibbling about it now so far from camp. He reached into his pack and pulled out a mild sedative, “Here.  If you want it, if the pain starts to act up this should numb it but keep you fighting for a while.” Again, Bane experienced a tick of annoyance – not at the lack of respect to his command (which was a joke), but to his intelligence – the maps he had seen in the Uef library gave a very good topographical view of the area and though the field was empty, it emptied into a caving system that would be an ideal place to store and shuffle supplies around. It was entirely possible he had over-estimated his enemies about the importance of such a configuration – but Bane was just paranoid enough to check to make sure. But Bane never ‘guessed’ – he made rational decisions based on available information. Still, he was not in the mood to fight with Sadar, “Well look at it this way. If I’m wrong, we can spend the afternoon away from the rest of the idiots at camp while not getting our heads cut off by our enemies. If I’m right, its tea and medals.” Bane watched Sadar reach out his magic to scout out the figure in the distance. It made him envy the boy’s superior magical form. He let out a short laugh at hearing the title applied to him, “You can drop the sir. Bane is fine.” Bane bit his lip as he looked at the figure. “The Demonlord is ‘one person’… and he could wipe a whole platoon single handed. There’s no reason to rush in before we know what they can do.” Depending on the magic of the enemy in front of him and the distance they had between them, it would be pointless to run. Bane kept his weapon’s forward and started to walk forward into the fray, his sharp eyes building up a map of the ground for him to build up possible advantages. He always had to work hard to account for the limited range of his magic.

[loriente-seasel]

Loriente established the threat, she noticed the weight change on the healthy grass as one of the Knights turned towards her. From this distance she could only make out his appearance, not in any kind of details, but guessing the way the two became stuck in conversation, they were considering their options. She had no idea how to continue, so stayed in her place, the tree at her side gave her strength. Life from her fingertips touched the bark of the tree and flowed down to its heart.

Here under the canopy of trees, she knew she had an advantage. Should the two Knights decide not to engage, she would have lost nothing. Her face turned into a cruel smile when she thought of how she may face off against two enemies. Despite the numbers, Loriente had much experience in age and Magic, even to defeat Knights of similar statue as her. She braced for a fight. One of them was walking towards her. 

[loriente-seasel]

Loriente Seasel & Thon Flonshade

photo credit x

[loriente-seasel]

If there was a Goodland soldier wanting to train under you, would you take them in or kill them?

“Kill them. It would put our own in danger and I wouldn’t stand for that. After what Rast did, we don’t even know if we can trust one another anymore, let alone someone who has been fighting for the enemy all their lives.”

[loriente-seasel]

If you could say one thing to all the dead people from your past, what would it be?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe. I always promise that I will.”

[loriente-seasel]

What tricks do you use to help you in battle, with your magic or your fighting?

“Soldiers are taught to keep a cool head in combat, ice water in their veins, allowing nothing to faze them. I do the opposite. I allow myself to soak in every drop of anger and exhilaration that I feel, along with the fury and fear of those I face in battle. I learned early on as a plant magician that just as I am a living thing, so are the plants, and the nuances of my emotions affect them. That connection has only grown over the last century to the point that the plants I grow are as much a part of me as an arm or a leg. Plants sway with my agitation, strike like vipers with my anger. These automatic reactions help to keep me alive in battle as well or better than my blade does.

Knights are generally better trained at hand to hand combat than Mancers, so over the years I have made it a point to strengthen that skill, learning how to fight with arms, legs, or blade in tandem with my magic use. Sometimes observing the way the enemy fights can better help in learning to bring them down.”

[belvus-castcar-blog]

Blood to Blood || Belvus & Loriente

[loriente-seasel]

belvus-castcar:

The catch on the blade gave him enough of a moment to stay low analyze the way back to the battle field. He was going to have to charge directly into the fray if he was going to avoid being picked off by this one Mancer. They hadn’t used any magic so he could safely assume they weren’t a magician because they would have crushed him in an instant. Blue magicians were not the strongest, they were purely support. And here he was fearing for his life holding only a dirk in defensive position, someone elses blood on his one hand. He could still feel how warm the blood was on his hand as if the knight was still alive. He had felt the man alive, and an echo of that life heated the blood. There was no rage in Belvus, only fear and a drive to live. A plan formulated.

Tossing his dirk as well as he could at the Mancer, he ran towards her and fell to the ground and began to slide on the blood on the ground, his light leather helped him to not merely collapse to the ground as he began to slide. In the split second decision of getting behind the Mancer so as to run for a few seconds without her, his prayers went to whatever vengeful god could take his place, because what he saw in the Mancer, every Mancer, was his sister. Or whatever his twin was because she was not a who to him any how. But right now he was sliding through the blood of a man he was trying to save with the same blood on his hands. His hand covered in blood skimmed the ground and as he began to slide near the mancer, and he prayed the dirk would have been enough distraction, but blood to blood and excitement seemed to complete a circuit in him, and time was both quick and strenuously slow as he awaited death or life in this split second in blood. 

The next few moments passed at lightning speed and took her reservations with them. The Knight’s look over her shoulder at the battlefield, the long dagger suddenly spinning toward her, the magician hitting the ground, sliding through blood. Loriente barely dodged the blade aimed at her chest, the edge just barely catching the crook of her neck and shoulder as she ducked to the side. The Mancer pressed her fingertips to her neck and they came away with bloodstained. She spun on her heel as the Knight scrambled across the slick ground and threw a few seeds at her feet. Fueled by her anger just as she was, the seeds split open in the mud and found a foothold in the earth below. Growing too quickly for the Knight to make his escape, one of the dark creepers lashed itself around his ankle and dragged him back.

“Do you have any idea who you are playing with, boy?” she said with narrowed eyes and an icy calmness as the black vine wrapped itself up his leg, constricting like a snake. But there was not the holy fury in his eyes that marked many Knights; his eyes were those of a cornered animal, wide and afraid. He was most likely just another Goodlands child thrown into war by his parents, one who stitched back together the skin of those who murdered the magicians they had failed to as children.

[fringie]

[belvus-castcar-blog]

Blood to Blood || Belvus & Loriente

Someone was screaming. Everyone was screaming, or shouting and bustling back and forth. Belvus could hear that much.  He gripped the dirk he kept at his side even closer as he ran to fallen Knight. The man was in full solid plate, dirtied by the ground and already stained with blood and scrubbed in with dirt as the poor man had been pushed to the ground and had most likely shuffled in the dirt to get away from whoever had injured him.  In larger conflicts, such as the one he was standing in, the hard iron scent of blood hung in the air as he scanned the field, continuing to run. The ground was slippery and he had to check his movement but he couldn’t stop. Not to breathe, not to look. Ceasing movement was paramount to throwing one’s self to hungry wolves. Keep moving, Belvus reminded himself as he got closer and closer to the injured party. The hard clanging of iron had grown tantamount to background noise to Belvus, he was accustomed to it, having heard his fair share. He was older than he looked.  Finally he slid right next hurt man.

“Are you alright? Where are you injured,” the regular diagnostic speak fell from his lips, if he let himself speak freely at this point in a battle, he would lose nerve, better to simply working on muscle memory and habit as a field magician.

“AAAAAAAHH” the knight continued to scream and groan in pain. Belvus was poised to look him over. The thud of another man falling rumbled a way off in the heavy brunt of the battle, but the noise was enough for Belvus to unsheathe and gaze over at the conflict. He was a good ways off from the battle, but he still had to hurry was, he would only be secure for a little more.

He was missing a leg.

Belvus paused to twitch and balked between moving to cover the leg and coming back to talk and comfort the man. His leather gear squeaked at the indecisive movement, Belvus began to be aware at how he was losing time merely looking the man over more than once. He set his hand over the wound, he couldn’t heal the leg back but he could at least heal the leg shut. Belvus gripped tight at the raw flesh, eliciting a sharp scream from the man, muffled slightly by the armor. Belvus pushed magic into the wound, willing the flesh to knit itself shut around his fingers and the arteries exposed in the wound. Belvus could still save hi-

SHCLICK

The wet heavy noise of a blade slicing through flesh and crunch through bone came abruptly crashing in. Belvus knelt frozen, his heart stopped and breath held, eyes opening wide in fear. His gaze began to move slowly up from the wound to see a sword impaled directly into the injured man- dead man’s face. Straight through the visor of the helmet. Belvus let go off the leg slowly, his other hand still gripped tight to his dirk. He looked up at the enemy poised over him. Belvus arched to move away. Mind racing with possibilities, he peered for any form of escape, of survival. He was not trained for hand to hand with a fully equipped enemy. If he fought, he would die. If he didn’t, he might die anyway.

The enemy began to pull the sword out of the dead man. Belvus made his move.

[loriente-seasel]

Battle was like a storm, blinding and tossing about anyone caught in the middle of it. Metal screeched against metal, mimicking the cries of the men and women fighting and dying under the incongruous clear sweep of blue sky above. The storm was stuck in place on the ground, undissipated and unrelenting. It was the second day of battle on the fields. Blade in hand, Loriente had left the generals’ tent and moved out onto the field herself, fighting beside those she sent into battle. Seeds scattered the earth around her and burst into life, thrashing as they grew at an exponential rate. Barbed and snakelike, they found purchase around limbs and throats, pushing and pulling their victims right to Loriente’s waiting blade, her face locked in a snarl and streaked with blood.

With relief she came to a young Mancer’s aid before the girl could be gutted like an animal by a group of soldiers. With roiling fury she tracked the killer of a Cold North soldier out of the thick of battle and put him down. With sharp sadness she slid her scimitar into the visor of a dismembered Knight, tasting blood on her teeth. Whose, she did not know. She watched as the living Knight removed his fingers from his comrade's leg one by one. His digits were coated in the blood that covered the grass, covered the armor of both of them. Loriente’s eyes moved to his face and read the fear, dread, and disgust written in his eyes. She had a sudden picture in her mind of what Darqa’s face might look like if a Knight did such a thing before her eyes. It wouldn’t look like this, she told herself. There would be fury like the searing snap of a flame, and she would fly up and destroy the killer from the outside in with steel or from the inside out with her magic. It wouldn’t look like this. 

The unshakable Loriente Seasel was shaken by something she could not name.

Loriente pulled her blade out of the body in the mud, and the momentary silence of the storm was broken. If you had tried to drag him off you both would have been killed, she almost said. I don’t lay a hand on a Blue magician unless I have to. But the Ryon was on his feet already, striking first. Her scimitar flashed up to catch the strike, and she threw her body weight forward to push him back. Her jaw clenched, no trace of mercy written on her face. And yet her magic stayed buried under her skin.

[loriente-seasel]

[loriente-seasel]

What do the plants think of all this fighting?

“I am sure they’re unhappy. It’s been a long time since there was a battle on these fields; the plants have had a long reprieve. I feel it will take some time for this place to recover once all is finished. Like the fighters themselves, in that respect.”

[loriente-seasel]

Who from your group do you fear for the most this battle?

“Those five have always performed well. Their magical abilities are impressive and their fearlessness even more so. Out of all of them, I think another groupleader might fear for Maia, but I believe she will surprise herself. And if she–or any in my group–were to stumble, I am confident that another would be by her side to prop her up.”

[elf-of-the-earth]

Leaf beats Rock beats Scissors || Sadar & Bane vs. Loriente

Sadar hopped around on one leg, having gained a gigantic vertical slash on his right leg the first day of fighting. To his own luck, if any real sense of battle came close, he could use the ground as an extra support to keep himself from opening up the wound. He had done it before. 

He looked aside to where Bane was walking, he had no idea why he had suggested the bloke to team up the second day. Maybe for once he wanted company? Nah, couldn’t be that. He hated fighting along side people, it mostly went messy. Then again, Plant and Ground seemed like a good combination. 

His eyes were racing over the field, searching for an attacker, an ally, anything on those large fields. Had they become lost? He turned to Bane. Finding himself at a loss for words. What was he going to say? ‘So, how did you fare yesterday?’ Such a stupid question.

[loriente-seasel]

It was the second day of fighting, and it was worn on the faces of many on the battlefield. Fatigue. Injury. Loriente understood very well that if the tide didn’t turn in the favor of the Cold North that day, casualties would only climb as everyone’s bodies began to give up the fight--even if their minds didn’t. Loriente knew her fellow DracoMancers were unnaturally strong-willed, they had to be, but they couldn’t go on fighting at this fever pitch forever. So while the missions she and Pane handed down to the Mancers went into play, Loriente entered the game herself.

As she moved through a skinny tree-lined valley over a short ridge on one side of the main battlefield, she felt a disturbance--grass that wasn’t already crushed under the shoes of the soldiers being trod on now. Nearby. Her footsteps slowed and quieted further, and she adjusted her sword sheath so the weapon could be quickly drawn as she moved behind the cover of a thick tree at the edge of the stand. Looking around it, she quickly identified a pair of men in conversation, men in Knight’s garb.

tyren-bane

[pepperedits-archive]

For Magical Enemies roleplay

Loriente Seasel & Thon Flonshade Anna Torv-Zachary Quinto

[loriente-seasel]

Eye of the Storm || Loriente & Eriek

“Eriek Azoik. It has been too long,” Loriente said, immediately recognizing the face even in the throng at the back line of the procession towards Landon Fields. In this odd time before dawn, she could make Eriek out but she could not read his expression. Or at least that is the excuse she told herself. He used to be an open book to her, but it had been many, many years since then. The thought didn’t stop her from smiling her first genuine smile of the day. She saw how others looked at Eriek after what happened. With poorly concealed pity. Curiosity. As if one of the best DracoMancers she had ever known was a painting of something gruesome to ogle and then promptly forget about. She had never felt pity for Eriek. Not even for a moment. Fury at his capture, yes, and the deep sadness that often followed it. But he was still Eriek, her once student, her forever friend, no matter his pain.

So she welcomed him to join her in the eye of the storm for a time. “How would you feel about helping me with battle preparations? I believe I’ll be stuck in the generals’ tent for a while, finalizing primary plans, and I know having your mind working through the scouts’ reports would be a benefit to all of us.”

eriekazoik

[loriente-seasel]

I found a clause in your marriage contract. It accidentally implies that if Thon Flonshade were to die while on land in Nigtigria, you would be legally entitled to the Eastern Demonic Fleet and its subsidiaries.

“I knew there was a reason I keep that man around.”