#melandonfieldsstory

[chaotic-soaro]

Born Like This || Dynas & Borus

“Garkouw!” he called, finally catching sight of the man suiting up along the edge of the encampment. He broke into a jog, relieved that he had found the groupleader before he took off into battle. Mostly because Loriente would have hung him upside down with her vines for a while if he hadn’t. While Pane laughed.  “I heard you got banged up pretty bad yesterday, man,” he said, coming up alongside Borus. “Unfortunately our dear generals got the word too and, long story short, we’re assigned together for the day.”

Dynas silently braced himself for a blow-up. He knew he’d be irked enough to start smoking from the ears if someone decided without his input that he needed someone to prop him up in battle, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Borus felt the same. And let him know it. But they were both chaos magicians, and Dynas couldn’t deny for a second that he was excited to see someone who could do what he could in action. With the scarcity of their magic type it would be the first time.

“Putting two magicians with the most volatile magic in the Fifth Gate together, what could go wrong? It’ll be fun!”

borustheboss

[chaotic-soaro]

Hoodwinkers || Dynas & Maia

After thirty-nine years of ruining Goodlands soldiers’ days, he understood their choice of weaponry and garb as well as they did. That didn’t mean it felt natural on his own body. He’d missed his sword and armor from the moment he put on this clown suit. But it was a necessary evil. 

Walking through camp he got a couple laughs out of the people he passed, because once everyone had been warned not to kill him and Maia on sight it became a joke. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. “My ideas are brilliant!” he retorted as he looked for Maia around the edge of camp. Spotting her head of dark hair by a campfire, he called out to her. “Maia, m’dear, ready to go?”

Dynas had received their orders from Loriente early on the first day, before the battle began, and had talked to Maia about their orders and the plan he’d thought up over the course of the day since. The sun had set over the horizon, and the last of the soldiers were returning to both camps from the battlefield. If they didn’t leave now they would miss their window of opportunity, but Dynas didn’t pretend that they wouldn’t have to discuss some things on the way over. Maia was one of his best friends. He understood what she might be feeling about this mission and the battle that had preceded it far better than another Mancer might have. Perhaps that’s why Loriente had paired him with her. The groupleader knew that he’d have her back behind enemy lines no matter what happened. No matter what the danger was to him personally.

maia-fortuin

[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

[maslathedragon]

Waltzing into the Dragons Keep || Masla vs Juvion & Thon

The wind was favorable at present, Masla noted as her wings gave a powerful flap, propelling her forwards. Although the wind smelled of something that had been present for quite a few years but now it was more noticeable then ever before, the dragon noted grimly, as she flew at a slightly languid pace over her domain.

Battle.

Sometimes whatever course a living being took and no matter how hard they tried to avoid it fighting was inevitable. There were different kinds of battles that came with those fights. A being would fight for it’s survival. Or they would clash in a battle of words instead of swords. Words were as powerful as swords, Masla mused to herself, her sharp cat like eyes scanning the ground below her as she kept watch over the territory under her protection. 

Catching sight of two figures she growled when their scent hit her nose, a wisp of smoke curling from her mouth as she descended.

‘Intruders!’ She roared, landing in front of them and growling. ‘Begone lest you feel the heat of my flames.’

juvionmodord

[belvus-castcar-blog]

Blood to Blood || Open

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.

[varamadrasitaul]

A Brother’s Worrying || Se’ref & Varamadras

Landon Fields was kilometers away, as was war for now, but a battle continued to rage on within Varamadras’ own mind. Matters at the fight were as they should be, all things arranged and organized throughout his army and government, leaving him free to take mind to a matter closer to his heart. 

Despite arguments continued to dwell upon the matter of King Deas, not had been so desperate as the one he had with Misha, and he worried for her. Not because of that subject, but because he sensed there was something he should read from her tone and appearance that went by him. Something important, something which if he knew, he as a brother could aid her in facing it. But he had no clue, few clues, his mind kept twisting and turning but a right answer did not fit. He thought it might have been fear, fear of becoming the target, or anger, anger at lowering himself into the shoes of those who killed their family. He drew a blank. 

So he had send word to Se’ref, asking the Lord of HagaFosiel to drop by at his office after office hours. There was only one person in the entire Fifth Gate who knew Misha better than he did: her fiancé.

seref-fveran 

[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

[elf-of-the-earth]

Flight of Magic Stairs || OPEN

Hardly anyone in his Compan could show the same wrath and ruthlessness when in battle, Sadar fought with a different style than those he knew. He used his strength of ground movement to trap enemies within his near distance and cut them down with a heavy steel axe that severed right through them. If in danger, he had learned to abandon the use of his weapon and choose the swiftness of his Magic, only to retrieve the dear blade later one. That didn’t mean his strategics were solid, he showed flaw more than he intended. 

The heavy axe lay far from his grip as he ran down the short hill, turning the ground below into difficult stairs so the enemy - three tall Demons - had difficulty following him. Shitty defense mechanism that was.