Putting Pain in Payback

Tiisha strode through the Pergrande troops with her nose in the air. A woolen dress hugged her form, the edges lined with fur. Completely unnecessary for one such as the dragonling but she liked to keep up appearances. Especially with these morons who hated magic. Being almost entirely constructed of what constituted as magical energy, Tiisha thought it prudent that she conceal any of her magical power. At least for now. Her weakened state didn't allow for her to attack an army without severe consequences. How she wished for her return to power. This army would have been nothing but dust in the wind. The opposing one as well.

Turashi walked behind his sister. She'd demanded his presence here despite their Ace, Medeia, also accompanying them. He didn't see the angel anywhere. Perhaps she was scouting or resting. Tura couldn't care either way. A thick black metal band clamped around his throat. His chest was bare, scoured by the ice cold winds of the mountain range. Snow crunched below his bare feet. Tiisha had only allowed Tura to wear pants and only for the delicate sensibilities of the Pergrande troops. She'd also pulled their magic to prevent him from warming himself. A test, most likely. Tiisha wanted to see if he'd burst with anger again. What little heat he had in his body rushed to his cheeks. A rash decision to attack one female while she was embraced by another, more powerful female. He deeply regretted the action even without Tiisha's constant punishments.

A pair of soldiers passed the twins. One of them murmured something, causing the other to snicker. Tura could barely move due to the cold and his ears had ceased working well some time ago. He refused to shiver however. He might be beneath females of Tiisha's standing, but he was a prince compared to these mortals. What little he'd seen of the Pergrande troops disgusted him. The feeling was foreign and odd but Tura embraced it. The feeling allowed him to stave off the cold enveloping his physical container. Tiisha's head barely turned toward the soldiers. Her lips quirked. Turashi clasped his hands behind his back. That look usually meant a mission for him. Tiisha's lips widened into a grin. "Come along, dear brother. We'll deal with those two later."

Tiisha walked into the command tent not far away. Turashi planted himself outside between the guards. They didn't spare him a glance. "Make this quick, mortal." Tiisha snapped at the male inside. He opened his mouth to reply. His cheeks and forehead got a ruddy color. It clashed with the uniform he wore. The dragonling found it quite disgusting. Why must she deal with this creature? He was male for one. There was no place for a male so high up in the chain of command on a battlefield. Males were good for fodder or in rare cases, surgical removal of enemy commanders. Turashi had been one such operative. Second, this male demanded her respect because she had deigned to assist his country. He didn't show her any of the reverence she was owed either. As the man prepared to yell, Tiisha decided she'd had enough. "Tell me where you would like us to assist and I may deign to aid that platoon or whatever you call it. If you cannot tell me quickly or try to say anything else, I'll put you where you belong. At my feet."

The male had gone quite a disturbing color. He was nearly purple across his entire bald head. His mouth opened. Judging by his Auric Presence, his words wouldn't be what she requested. "Turashi?" She called softly. Her brother flew into the tent. His leg swept the other male off his feet. Tura's fist slammed into the male's throat. At her feet and silent, excellent. Tiisha sniffed at the male as he gasped on the ground. "I'll do as I please now. If your people get in our way, we'll not halt our attack to exclude them." She swept from the tent, a haughty air about her. It was time to find Medeia. The angel had accompanied them to the battle field but the dragonling didn't know where she'd gotten to. Perhaps she could coerce the female between the sheets before they attacked. Magical signals burst brightly in the sky. Bellum had launched its attack. Tiisha sighed. She never could have anything fun when she wanted it here on the mortal plane.

WC: 745
745 of 8000

Enemies:

Council Mage x3
Crusader Knight x8
Cleric of Arcanos x4
Archpriest of Arcanos

The member 'TnT' has done the following action : Dice Rolls

---

'Monster Dice' :

It was difficult to tell just what the soldiers around her were more afraid of, the oncoming battle or her. Not one of them had dared to look her in the eye and every single one of them gave her a wide berth. Clearly, they had been informed of her strength and she gave them the smallest amount of acknowledgement for at least being intelligent enough to stay out of her path. She had no desire to mingle or get to know any of them and once the battle was over, who was to say that the raven haired woman would not just butcher them too? She certainly felt no sense of allegiance to this magic intolerant civilisation and it had only been due to the simple fact that they had offered her more than she had even agreed to take their side, at least in part anyway,

The second and far more important reason for her to join this battle was purely due to the claims of the opposition. A nation, ruled by the church? It sounded all too familiar to how her own order had once ruled and that was enough to set Medeia off. The idea sickened her and gave her all the motivation she needed to step onto the battlefield herself. What did these blasphemous imbeciles know anyway? They relied on blind faith rather than actual knowledge. Well, she would teach them a little about how beings of the stars truly lived today, through the blood of their own soldiers. There would be no mercy or tolerance, these mortals were not deserving of it.

She had not made the long journey alone though and somewhere among the Pergrande troops, the witch knew that Tiisha would no doubt be making herself heard. Medeia had become fond of the dragonling rather quickly, an attraction that she knew was mutual. They had such chemistry and the angel had greatly enjoyed their date, despite the disappointment of the park itself. Still, their destruction of the place and the sweet love making that had taken place afterwards had more than made up for it. What was more. She had truly left her mark on the red haired woman’s offspring too, passing on her formidable powers on to the child. A thought that actually brought her no shortage of pleasure. That child was well and truly blessed now. Naturally, the thought of offspring caused her mind to turn towards her lust and desire for Tiisha, with the angel briefly pondering if perhaps they could play around a little before the fight continued. Who knew how long this waiting would last?

Of course, Tura was also around, a fact that Medeia was not quite so pleased about. He had made an incredibly poor impression of himself during the date and the angel was still tempted by the idea of wringing his neck. To assault Tiisha as he had done during their last encounter was unforgivable in her eyes. The memory of having her beautiful red haired date beaten in front of her face still sent waves of white hot anger flowing through her veins. A male did not treat a female in such a way.

Positioning herself on the top of one of the scout towers, Medeia had simply hovered there, her large purple wings keeping her aloft. She had not the slightest care in the world that the Pergrande soldiers could see her and she was certain that it only caused them to be more fearful of her. Good. Her focus was purely on the battlefield before them, her slayer enhanced sight giving her a wonderful view of it. She was simply waiting for the first spell to be cast and then she would be on her way into the thick of it.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the warning signals would go off, the soldiers would charge out of the camp and towards their enemy and the battle would begin. Medeia briefly focused inwards and allowed her natural form to appear visually. The mortals called it “Takeover Magic” but for her, it was simply embracing her true nature. Her form would change somewhat, with her ears becoming pointed, her hair turning a lovely shade of purple and her clothing changing so that she was now clad in a dress that matched her hair colour.

“Ah, how I adore this form,” she uttered to herself, her voice deeper and thrumming with power in her current state, watching briefly as the battle began before her.

Flying over the top of the guard tower so that she was hovering above the battlefield, she would amplify her voice and shout down at the Pergrande soldiers below, “Take one step back and I will slaughter you myself. Push forwards until there is no more breath in your bodies. That is the only path for you now. Thrive or perish.” It was difficult to tell whether they were inspired or even more afraid after hearing her but she cared little. They were simply mortals, after all.

(841 Words)
(841/4000 PWC)
(1585/8000 TWC)

Council Mage x3
Crusader Knight x16
Archpriest of Arcanos x1

The member 'Medeia' has done the following action : Dice Rolls

---

'Monster Dice' :

Turashi stood on the hilltop. His hands were clasped behind him as he watched the approaching enemy. The dragonling spotted a few mages, many plate clad knights and a grouping of clerics. It appeared that the clerics held the leaders of this group. Glancing around, he took stock of their backup. Maybe three squads of Imperial troops and a single Imperial guard. They'd be little better then butter here. It didn't stop Medeia rising into the air and demanding they never retreat, never surrender. Tura's mouth twitched. The female knew how to get the troops in line. Most had straightened, facing the charging knights. The mages appeared to be hanging back along with the clerics. Tura looked toward Tiisha. She flicked her fingers at him. Good enough.

Tura opened his mouth. He steeled himself, hating what he needed to do. His normally introverted tendencies needed to be shoved deep inside. "Soldiers!" Turashi's voice blasted over the Pergrande lines. The soldiers straightened, their hands tightening on their weapons. "The enemy approaches! Their Eminences, Medeia of Dark Beauty and Tiisha'ir Arenwala, Blessed Archjusticar of the Sunrise, are watching us today! We'll prove ourselves worthy of their gazes! Those in the front, down on one knee! Those behind, Rifles to shoulders! Officers, pick off those mages!" Turashi peered at the approaching line of knights. The snow hindered their progress. He raised his hand as they came within one hundred meters. "Ready?! Fire!" Pergrande guns barked. Bullets sprayed the approaching line. Some snow kicked up under the hail of bullets. The Officers had held their fire. Good. They used their heads. Unfortunately, the knights' armor had absorbed the bullets. "Reload!" Turashi bellowed.

The air crackled before lightning crashed down among the ranks. Tura turned to look dispassionately. Soldiers cried out but it was more from fear then actual injury. The mages had done well. The distraction allowed the knights to close the distance while the Pergrande soldiers struggled to regroup. Turashi looked toward his sister. She smiled already knowing what needed to be done. Her body shifted, growing large bat wings. Claws poked through the skin of her fingers. The redhead launched herself into the air. Tura turned back towards the troops. His sister would deal with those pesky mages. In the meantime... The air around one of the squads suddenly erupted with a column of fire. Tura felt the chill vanish from his bones. He spotted several magic circles appear before more pillars of fire decimated the squad. They didn't even have time to scream. The dragonling whipped around. The clerics. They were more powerful then he'd known. Tura looked up at the flying Medeia. "Lady Medeia!" He bellowed, trying to fight off a wave of nausea. The smell of charred meat always did turn his stomach. "If you wouldn't mind showering us with your benevolence, would you mind taking care of that group of clerics? They're more powerful than we can handle but they should be nothing to one with your power!" His imagination ran wild with the possibilities of power that group might wield. They'd wiped out the squad like it was nothing.

Tiisha went to land among the mages when the fire erupted behind her. She didn't bothering looking. The mortals weren't her concern. Her brother wouldn't be hurt by such fire either. They were dragons after all. A brilliant light suddenly engulfed Tiisha as her feet crunched in the snow. Her eyes immediately stopped working. The mages around her snickered, like they'd won some big battle. She smiled slowly at them. Her sightless eyes melted into her face. No need for those now. Her ear picked up the sounds of gasping. The mages hadn't been prepared for that. Her grin widened. Tiisha had never needed her eyes to see. Her kind didn't naturally have eyes. Their bodies were built to sense the Auric Presence of the beings or objects around them. The three mages had auras full of fear. Magic gathered in the hands of one. Pitiful mortal. They hadn't a clue.

Tiisha shot forward, ignoring those holding fire. Her talons sank into the wrist of the last one. A high pitched scream peeled through the air. The dragonling slowly forced the hand toward the mage's mouth. She couldn't tell if the mortal was male or female. She couldn't care less either. The spell exploded. Tiisha was thrown backward. She laughed, landing like a cat. That had singed her fur, so to speak. The mage sat slumped in the snow, most likely with a crater for a head. Tiisha wished she could see that at least. Damn the idiot who stole her physical sight. The mage's comrades had been similarly thrown. Tiisha wend to move. Her shoulders stung, her dress baked into the flesh. Perhaps she should have dodged that spell. Stepping up to the body, Tiisha gave it a few kicks. The body fell apart, nothing more than solid charcoal. The dragonling turned a bloody grin toward the others. "Who's next?"

834 (1579 of 4000)
TWC: 2419/8000

Enemies:
Council Mage x5 (1 eliminated)
Crusader Knight x24
Cleric of Arcanos x4
Archpriest of Arcanos x2

The angel did not verbally give an answer to the male dragonling, her gaze still holding resentment towards him as she looked down upon him. Still, his request was polite enough and considering the magical power that he could sense from the clerics, it seemed that they would require her personal attention. So, she would simply nod her head in response and take off across towards the group of spell casters, intrigued by their use of magic. The pillars of energy that they cast were somewhat difficult to predict the element of and they did not appear to be of a type that the angel herself could devour. They did not have the right magical makeup for that and so she would have to try something else. The group of four remained in one steady unit, with them taking turns to cast their magics in order to keep a steady stream of attacks going. It was an irritating strategy but one that Medeia had to give them credit for. She was going to have to break their formation and as a smile crossed her features, she would start to tap into her repertoire of spells.

The Pergrande mortals did do a great job of keeping them occupied though and by the time they realised that she was approaching at speed, they seemed rather alarmed at the sight of her. Clearly, she was not how her kind had been described to them before and unfortunately that was the same in her case too. Medeia had assumed that these clerics would be feminine but much to her distaste, they were rather young looking males instead. How disappointing. The thought of perhaps taking one of them back with her as a trophy had crossed her mind but there was no chance of that now. The only place that they would be adorning would be the battlefield itself, in pieces. Her fanciful thoughts spoilt for the moment, she would then focus on the skirmish, flying around the group, who quickly moved around, the front two trying to keep their large shields facing her. An amusing notion.

With a wave of her hand, four clones of the angel would appear beside her, all crimson red and dripping with blood. They would immediately dive down towards the group without fear or regret, homing in at a speed that the foolish mortals were clearly unprepared for. The front two seemed confident and merely braced themselves but they sorely underestimated the magical strength of their foe, for as soon as the clones made contact, they erupted in a bloody explosion, saturating their armour with the lovely crimson liquid. Chuckling, the angel could feel her own reserves growing as the blood poisoned her foes, the delicious after effects of this particular spell. Draining them of their life force and magical reserves, Medeia moved in closer. The four were clearly scattered now, their shields broken. “It was naive of you fools to think that you could even defend yourselves from even one of my spells. Tell me, how does it feel to be assaulted by a being that your nation reveres so much?”

Landing in the middle of the four, the angel would snap her attention towards the cleric closest to her and unleash a powerful stream of sand in his direction, yet another of the elements that she could control. It was a rather painful spell to say the least and the reason why soon became clear. If sand was in large enough quantities and travelling swiftly enough, it could shred a being to the bone and that was precisely what was happening to the poor fool. Already suffering from her poison, he had little defence against this second attack and his screaming and shrieking would be loud enough to be heard across the battlefield. The other clerics did not dare to move and simply watched in horror as their companion was gruesomely peeled. When the event was finally over, there would be nothing left of him at all.

“What kind of angelic magic is that?” One of the other three yelled, the oldest by the looks of him. “You are an abomination, an insult to those who we worship. You are a....What is this?!”

That was a second spell that the angel had cast in order to silence the fool. A sand wyrm, to be specific, which had quickly travelled across the ground and wrapped itself around his form, preventing him from moving. “A punishment for not knowing when to remain silent. Wyrm, kill him.”

With a rather disgusting sounding response to its casters order, the wyrm’s mouth would open to a massive size and quite happily devour the cleric, resulting in another unpleasant death. A lesson was required for the mortals of Bellum, one that would reach the very core of their nation. The lies that they told themselves would not save them from their fate and as the wyrm feasted on the cleric, that realisation seemed to reach the minds and souls of the two remaining clerics. In fairness to them though, they both stood up again, clearly still feeling the effects of the poison. It appeared that they wished to go out on their shields, as it were.

(874 Words)
(1715/4000 PWC)
(3293/8000 TWC)

Enemies:
Council Mage x5 (1 eliminated)
Crusader Knight x24
Cleric of Arcanos x2 (2 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos x2

Turashi didn't join the ragged yell as the Pergrande troops celebrated Medeia's victory. The knights were still incoming. They were almost upon the group and they'd be close in moments. Turashi swallowed hard. It seemed he wasn't done giving orders yet. "Enough! Take aim! Officers with us! Fire!" The guns barked rapidly. A few of the knights fell. Turashi numbered maybe three had fallen. The others were heavily damaged. Maybe they could pull this off. Lightning crashed down among the troops again. Tura scowled at the setback. Another squad wiped out without effort. At least that meant the mages couldn't target Tiisha. "Reload and step back!" He ordered. The dragonling let the darkness course through his veins. It was time for him to step up.

Tiisha felt her eyesight return. Fire was gathering in the hands of the mages. They were rapidly retreating to give her space. Perhaps they thought that would be enough to take her out. Light gathered in her palms. How she hated this power. A pathway opened to one of the mages. Her body blurred, reappearing next to the mage. She shoved her hand into his stomach, her fingers transforming. Her hand grasped the male's stomach. Tiisha stepped and turned. Fire crashed all around her. The resulting explosion ripped through the mage. Tiisha took a little damage. She smiled, the blue lifeblood dripping down her cheek. Let them think this little wound would slow her down.

Turashi dashed forward, his skin turning unnaturally pale. Black tendrils shot from him. They latched onto several of the knights. He doubted that would slow them down much. Swords began to glow, sheathed in arcane energy. Tura would have paled further if he could. A single blow would put him out of commission. The knights were more powerful than he'd realized. His only saving grace was the plate armor protecting the knights was pockmarked with bullet holes. The dragonling gathered his energy and unleashed it in a black wave. It passed harmlessly over the knights, or so it seemed. Black worms were working their way into their armor. It would slowly eat away at their bodies until they died. Swords swung his way. Tura slipped past the swinging blades easily. Grabbing one knight, the twin managed to get the man stabbed by his comrade. A few stabs to the back and he crumpled to the ground. No, wait. That one had been female. His body didn't react to the revelation. Later, Tura was sure he'd be sick.

Tiisha giggled at the mages surrounding her. They seemed to be at a loss. Twice now, she'd used their spells to destroy an ally. "You are all weak. You should have capitalized on finishing me rather than aiding your allies. Its chaos on a battlefield. No time to aid allies. Only power matters here. Power and luck." The dragonling strode forward confidently. The mages readied their staves. Tiisha tittered. "Idiots. Like mortals could stand before a dragon or an angel. We are your superiors in every way. Especially you males. Kneel. I'll show you the true meaning of power." She raised her hand. One of the mages raised their finger. Too late. A tree burst from Tiisha's hand. Its branches snaked toward the mages and pierced them. Two had a second branch shoved into their bodies. Those two crumpled to the ground. The others grasped the gaping holes in their stomachs. Tiisha shook her head sadly. "Pitiful. Just pitiful. I cannot grant you mercy, my dears. All my enemies must be crushed underfoot."

Turashi found himself horribly outnumbered. He didn't have the strength to fight all these knights. A single squad wouldn't save him either. Suddenly, Colonel Casey stood beside him. The bald man had donned full armor. Two large swords were clasped in his hands. Casey swung both. It took his target in the stomach first before decapitating the knight. Then his swords blurred. Another two targets hit the ground. Turashi almost stopped to stare. The blade work was amazing for a mortal. Not to mention the Colonel had charged - and he was gone. Turashi let out an irritated grunt. With both his sister and himself drawing from the same energy core, the dragonling couldn't copy Casey's rapid retreat. The asshole had left him surrounded by enemies. Pissed enemies who'd watched a number of them die unexpectedly.

Light suddenly pulsed across the battlefield. It was coming from the group with Medeia. One of the leaders of this group no doubt. The twins both grit their teeth. Their opponents had been healed by the spell. Turashi got a little luckier as the healing light couldn't quite reach everyone in his group. All their hard work had been swept aside without much effort. The dragonlings reached toward each other telepathically. Together.[i] [i]Together. Their physical forms shot toward each other. Their energy twisted together. As their Auras became one for a limited time, the twins raised their heads to the sky and roared. They'd become a Hydra, seven heads of death. They landed near the mages intent in finishing off the weakest first. The mortals after all didn't matter.

856 (2435 of 4000)
4149/8000 TWC

Enemies:
Council Mage x2 (4 eliminated)
Crusader Knight x17 (7 eliminated)
Cleric of Arcanos x2 (2 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos x2

The healing spell was an annoying one indeed as both of the remaining clerics ended up recovering all of their stamina. Their shields were not repaired but both at least seemed as though they would be able to go another round with the angel. Unfortunately for them, Medeia was not amused by the sudden healing simply waved her hand, causing a tornado of sang to engulf the pair, lifting them into the air and causing them to wail with fright. There was little they could do to fight it off, immobilised as they were, the immense amount of sand once more shredding their armour and clothing. They would not be surviving this time around and once the two dropped to the ground, battered and bleeding. Medeia would unleash one of her favourite spells, resulting in a puddle of liquid gold to form beneath the two, much to their dismay and after a few moments of desperate struggling, they would be pulled under, drowning in the angel’s spell. An amusing spectacle and the raven haired woman could not help but feel a small sense of pleasure.

Her attention was then captured by the unusual magical aura that had suddenly begun to spread across the battlefield. It was familiar and yet not so at the same time and as the angel turned around, her eyebrows rose as she saw what appeared to be a seven headed beast, making light work of the fodder, as well as anyone else who got in its way. There was certainly no record of such a being among the army of Bellum, so Medeia simply put two and two together. It must have been the true form of the twins. They were truly an awesome sight and the hybrid slayer would certainly not want to be facing them in battle, if she were one of the pitiful mortals. What hope would mere knights have against such a ferocious beast?

A burst of light would suddenly hurtle in her direction and the purple haired woman was forced to move rather swiftly in order to dodge the attack. A potent spell and one that Medeia would have to be aware of in the future. The caster of which soon approached, dressed in robes and with a far more elegant look than any of the opponents so far. They approached slowly, seemingly aware of the angel’s strength and came to a stop, about ten meters away from her. “I see that you have made quite a mess and I assume that you are the one who has obliterated my clerics. Hardly the behaviour of a being such as yourself. Surely, you should be fighting on our side rather than against us.” The voice was feminine in nature, a fact that the angel did not ignore. “I am an Archpriest of Arcanos, leaders of the Bellum army and I suggest that you come with me willingly. I admit that your heavenly essence is of interest to us and that is why I am giving you a chance to surrender rather than…”

A flaming javelin was the only answer that the Archpriest received, an attack with enough force that it forced her backwards several feet.

As the smoke from the attack faded, Medeia would be seen approaching, her expression murderous. “You will discover the potency of my heavenly essence soon enough but I will not surrender my freedom to a mortal such as yourself. Your nation worships an order that I despise above all others, one that no longer exists. You see, I destroyed them, along with their precious castle. Your precious deities are dead, priest. They now reside in hell, as your army will soon be.”

A red coloured armour would surround Medeia’s form, increasing her already potent magical gifts, as well as granting her a fair amount of defence. With no further words needed to be said, Medeia would open her mouth and unleash a mighty blast of slayer energy from her mouth, combining three of her many elements together. The priestess was not all that fast and was struck head on by the blow, knocking her clean off of her feat and crashing to the ground. There was not a moment of pause and the angel would create a whip of purple energy, which was wickedly cracked against the fallen priest, resulting in a painful howl of pain from the woman. Cruelly, Medeia would continue to crack the whip against her, causing horrible burns to form across her enemies body. “Sing for me,” she uttered, a wicked chuckle escaping her lips as she tortured the woman. “Perhaps if you amuse me for long enough, I will claim you as a trophy and have my way with you.” The lust was beginning to build and it was not as if the priestess was ugly or anything.

The woman was still struggling to stand though and Medeia had to admit that she was pretty tough. Not many of her foes lasted this long.

(833 Words)
(2548/4000 PWC)
(4982/8000 TWC)

Enemies:
Council Mage x2 (4 eliminated)
Crusader Knight x17 (7 eliminated)
Cleric of Arcanos (4 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos x2

Tura and Tiisha struggled initially after becoming one. They hadn't merged in several years. The lack of practice showed now as their body froze. Turashi! Let me drive the body! We need to eliminate the mages! Her twin only grunted in response. Tiisha found herself looking out of the eyes on one side of the body. Their Pergrande soldiers had been wiped out nearly to a man. Four knights lay in blood soaked snow. Tiisha snorted, wondering if her brother had gone soft. Why show her the failure of mortals? It was to be expected, thus was of no interest. She saw his concerns a moment later. The knights had turned on their body. They were rushing across the snow, swords ablaze with power. The Imperial Guard Colonel Casey was nowhere to be found. Useless bastard.

The mages are equally- Oof! Lightning crashed into their side. It knocked the body off balance. Turashi let Tiisha take control of the main head as well as the body. In return, he controlled the other six hydra heads. Opening his mouths, Turashi gathered energy. Six beams of Auric Power crashed into the lines of the knights. Their charge barely slowed. Tiisha growled, irritated by their lack of progress. The body was slow, another result of being out of practice. The mages were running terrified of the approaching beast. It was a wonder they hadn't thrown another spell yet. This isn't working. Get ready to split again. Turashi sighed heavily as they split apart. The two of them didn't stand much chance against all the knights incoming.

Tiisha landed a flying tackle on the lead mage. Her body had reformed in the air. Not ideal but she'd made it work. Turashi stood mere feet away, his hands clasped behind his back. He appeared to be waiting for orders. Yet his eyes were steadily watching the battle field. Tiisha wrenched the head of her prey back. One savage jerk took a chuck from the male's neck. The redheaded twin threw the meat aside. "Kill the other." She ordered her brother. He darted off. The other mage squealed and tried to run away. What a pathetic female. Tiisha raised her hand. Her body had sealed off her stronger techniques but there was one she could use. A technique she'd developed a long time ago and refined until her fingers bled. A blade of light slammed into the knights moments later. The impact exploded violently, injuring a few nearby. The initial target was dead though. That much Tiisha was sure of. Her ungodly beauty was in fact paired with a brain.

Tura caught the final mage with relative ease. His body had been honed into a weapon whereas this male was dangerously overweight. It was a little disgusting. The man tried to gather power. Tura absorbed it quickly. The man's auric presence stood out in stark fear. Turashi drank the fear in, drawing more and more of it. Without him even realizing it, the dark whispers had entered his mind. They drew out the male's fear, more and more of it until the male collapsed. His hair had turned white. His skin was pallor, the white of his eyes red. His face was screwed up into a frozen expression of fear. His job was finished. The dragonling returned to his twin's side. "It is done, sister. This one has but one request: What is my next mission?" Turashi asked with a small bow. Tiisha grunted. "Protect my back, idiot! I don't trust these sneaky bastards."

588 (3023 of 4000)
5570/8000 TWC

Enemies:
Council Mages (6 eliminated)
Crusader Knight x12 (12 eliminated)
Cleric of Arcanos (4 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos x2

As the minutes of torture passed, the priest would continue to scream and shriek until she finally fell silent, her energy well and truly spent. With a satisfied smile, Medeia would approach, clicking her fingers as she did so in order for a large purple tentacle to burst from the floor, holding her foe in the air. It appeared that she was still alive, even though her gaze was unsteady and the angel could not help but leer slightly at the woman’s form. She was lovely, even with all the damage that she had taken, her long platinum coloured hair now in full view. Chuckling, Medeia would lift her head up with a couple of fingers, looking her in the eyes. “This was always going to be the end result, as it always is whenever I take part in battle. Your troops are simply not powerful enough to keep me at bay and neither is your magic. You all sacrificed your lives when you stood on this battlefield and for what? Nothing. That is what. Simply lambs to the slaughter.”

There was no response from the priest and sensing that her end was near, the angel would turn to the tentacle and utter a simple command. “Have your way with her, my dear. I do not think that she has enough stamina to become a plaything of mine.” The tentacle, fondly known as Janice, would respond swiftly and start to crush the woman. A rather unpleasant sight but the angel did not look away, in fact, as the blood drained from her enemies face, Medeia would softly place her lips against the priests. “Goodbye, my dear.” Stepping back, she would then witness the crushing in all its brutal glory, her head tilting to the sight. The priest's body would spasm and distort, before becoming completely limp, dead as a doornail. “Thank you for your help, Janice.” She then sweetly said, resulting in the tentacle tipping its tip in farewell and then vanishing, leaving the lifeless body of the priest to crash to the ground. If she was the strongest that Bellum had to offer then the war should not take long at all.

Another one down, Medeia was about to turn around and continue on her destructive path but a loud male voice suddenly yelled from behind her. “Stay where you are or we will cut you to pieces!” He might have sounded intimidating if it was not for the slight trembling in his voice and the holy being simply flapped her wings in annoyance. Arrogant fool. With a roll of her eyes, the witch would flick her purple locks, causing her hair to almost come to life and tear towards the knights, wrapping itself around them and lifting the imbeciles bodily into the air. She had to briefly smile at the sudden desperate shouting of the knights, completely unprepared for her attack. Turning around, she would take a look at the three and her smile swiftly vanished again. Not one of the knights was female.

“That was not a very intelligent move to make.” She uttered. “I have just had my tentacle crush the life out of one of your leaders and yet you still decide to attack me? How foolish. I am not going to waste any energy on you three so I will make this swift.”

Tapping into her magic once more, Medeia would summon a blade into her hand. A foul looking weapon, dripping with blood before she had even attacked with it. She would then draw the closest knight towards her, his face turning white with fear and slash him just once across his torso, leaving a sickening wound, staining the ground with his blood. “A slash in the stomach for you.”

Pulling in the second one, she would proceed to aim far higher, placing the blade at his throat. He seemed to know what was about to happen and simply closed his eyes, praying to the beings that Medeia despised, her own kind. Before she killed him, Medeia simply stated. “There is no point in praying because those who worship can no longer hear you. The castle is empty, its halls silent.” With that, she would slash his throat, causing his lifeless corpse to drop to the ground, alongside his dead ally.

The youngest looking guard, the one who had shouted at her in the first place, was the last one to be brought towards her. “Care to guess where I am going to cut you?” The angel asked, her blade moving once more until it was hovering around his nether regions. “Next time. Think before you engage a superior being in battle. Not that there will be a next time for you.” One final cut, one more horrible wail of pain and the deed was done, leaving the final knight to unleash a horrible cry that would send waves of fear through all of his remaining allies.

With her latest foes defeated, Medeia would soldier on, ready to face her next opponents.

(840 Words)
(3388/4000 PWC)
(6410/8000 TWC)

Enemies:
Council Mages (6 eliminated)
Crusader Knight x9 (15 eliminated)
Cleric of Arcanos (4 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos x1 (1 eliminated)

Tiisha didn't last long in her conviction to fight the knights. Not out of a cowardly sensibility but because her eye had been caught by something else. Medeia stood in all her glory as a Priestess - an opponent still out of Tiisha's reach - was slowly crushed by a tentacle. A shiver ran through the redhead's body. The fallen angel almost looked bored! Tiisha started striding toward the woman. Turashi withheld his sigh. Such was the way of things with his sister. The oncoming opponents, these mortals, meant nothing in the face of what she wanted. The dragonling would have to deal with them himself. It was lucky their armor had been destroyed. Otherwise, they'd cut him down without much issue.

A blue glow surrounded Tura, clinging to his skin. He raised his hands, each palm glowing with a white blue orb. The orbs shot from his hands, colliding with the incoming line and exploding. Tura followed the attack with a crimson blaze. It struck the leader and engulfed his body. The energy core was nearly empty. Tura kicked a nearby stave into his hand. Better a weapon then hand to hand combat. He did hate to get his hands dirty. Tura charged into the knights. The stave kicked out to deflect a few glowing blades. One cut down his back. Tura bit back his cry. It was nothing. Nothing at all. He responded to the attack with a solid kick. The knight flew into his comrades. The mass of prone bodies made a tempting target. However, Tura turned toward those upright. They were still a danger. Any other move could prove fatal.

Tiisha bit her lip watching Medeia work. A ruthless woman, who knew how to make an example of her opponents. When those before the angel lay dead, Tiisha threw herself forward. Her arms went to wrap around the angel's neck. Her lips sought the tender embrace of Medeia's. "You should not mock faith, darling." She chided gently when she came up for air. "There are many powers in the stars and any could answer such prayers." The redhead took a step back. Her haughty demeanor belayed a lack of care for the battlefield. She had her sights on what she wanted. "I do wish you'd make up with my brother as well. He is my twin-" A brilliant beam cut through Tiisha's stomach. She looked down in shock. Blue lifeblood dripped onto the snow. Tiisha looked up at Medeia and coughed. More blue blood sprayed the snow. A sizzling sound filled the air as Tiisha's body began to burn. She had only time for a wordless cry before her body burned away.

Turashi jerked as Tiisha was hit, taking another strike. He could feel the core attempting to reallocate vitality from his Aura to hers. There weren't enough resources for that. The dragonling wanted to curl in on himself, to cry over the loss of his sister. Only his current circumstances, and the possibility of losing her forever kept him from doing so. His stave flashed out. The blunt end punched through the knight in front of him. Tura used the stave to spring over the knight. He landed behind the male. Turn, grasp, twist. The male's neck broke with an audible crack. Tura jerked the sword from the now limp hand. Two flicks of his wrist relieved the knights to either side of their heads. There were six left now. Medeia could deal with Tiisha's murderer. All he could do was ensure she wasn't distracted. The corpses collapsed into the snow.

The six knights were struggling to their feet. None of them looked any better than Turashi did. He let a dark cloud seep from his wrists. The energy in the core might support one more spell now. It drifted over the knights. Each breath they took drew it into their lungs. They'd bleed from the inside. Two of the knights collapsed back into the snow, writhing. Turashi ignored them. They'd die out soon enough. His sword flicked out as he approached the group. The tip sank into the foremost knight, once, twice, thrice. The knight fell, never to rise. Tura swept the blade left and right. The strike to the right was parried, turning a fatal blow into a glancing one. The dragonling stepped back, lowering into a stance. Two knights stood against him. Each was shaky on his feet. Turashi wasn't much better. However, the dragonling had often been in this state. He'd trained in this state until he couldn't move. These knights had never been pushed that far.

Tura beckoned his opponents with his free hand. They charged, magic lighting their blades. Tura slid past their flailing strikes. His blade drew across a thigh. He turned with a step and drove his sword into a back. The sword was ripped out the side of the man. The movement broke the blade but the knight collapsed into an ever widening crimson pool. One opponent. The knight threw down his sword. She fell to her knees, her hands clasped before her. She begged. Tura couldn't hear the words. These people had killed his sister - in a manner of speaking. Jagged metal slide through the visor to silence the woman. All dead. Tura took three steps away from the carnage and fell flat on his face. He couldn't feel the bite of the snow, couldn't hear the howl of the wind. His body wouldn't obey his commands. The dragonling closed his eyes. How peaceful.

921 (3944 of 4000)
7331/8000 TWC

Enemies:
Council Mages (6 eliminated)
Crusader Knight (24 eliminated)
Cleric of Arcanos (4 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos x1 (1 eliminated)

For those few blissful moments, everything else seemed to fade into insignificance. All that mattered was the gorgeous red haired dragonling that she was locked in an embrace with. They had known each other for such a short time but Medeia had become oh so fond of her. There were similarities between them, both in personality and beliefs, which only drew the angel to Tiisha more. She could have quite happily stood there for hours, kissing and exploring the body of her beautiful guild mate. There was no doubt that it would be far more entertaining than taking out the foolish mortals who were not even close to her level. When they finally broke apart, Tiisha would briefly speak, gently teasing and chiding her for her comments, as well as requesting that the holy being make up with Tura. Medeia would have answered, words already forming on her lips...

Only for a brilliant light to shred through the red haired woman, a horrible attack that seemed to cut straight through her. Medeia’s eyes widened with shock and before she could even think of casting a healing spell, Tiisha’s gaze met her own, before her body burned away completely. For the first few moments afterwards, the angel simply remained ominously still, her mind struggling to come to terms with what she had just witnessed. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and the sounds of battle all around her seemed to disappear. She recognised that light, the weapon on the arch priests, similar to the one that she had just defeated. The realisation seemed to bring her back into real time, anger and rage beginning to flow powerfully within her. There was only one fate for the caster of that damned spell and all those who they served. Her distaste for Bellum  had now turned to pure hatred.

The spell caster now came into view, dressed exactly the same as the other priest although this one was taller and more broad. A male, whose gaze was as cold as ice. He would come to a stop, prepared for battle, his voice free of fear or anxiousness. “Kissing in the middle of a battlefield was not all that clever, was it?" He stated arrogantly. “I come here expecting a challenge and instead I find two sinful mages giving in to their carnal urges. Pitiful. My light purifies everyone it touches and you will be no exception. You deserve execution for killing my fellow priest, a sentence I will carry out now. State your final words.”

“...Force.”

An enormous amount of magical power erupted from the angel, surrounding her with the power of the six elements that were under her control. Fire, blood, anger, sand, gold, curses. There were flickerings of them all, covering Medeia’s body and radiating out from her, each tainted with the corrupted all god slayer magics. Magics that were created for one sole purpose. To eradicate the holy and by extension in the eyes of the witch, those who believed in such things. Her eyes burned with the power of her magic, already strengthened by her third magic. She would rise into the air, her wings stretching out to their full width, amplifying her majesty and giving her an even more ominous appearance. “There will be one final execution.” Her voice echoed with power, deep and resonating. “You have committed the sin of killing someone that I truly desire and that can only result in death. I will nail your cold and bloody corpse to the capitol building of your nation and let the crows and insects have their way with it.”

There were no further words spoken and the arch priest instead unleashed a blast of light toward the angel, similar to the one that had killed Tiisha. The attack was rather powerful and so rather than dodge, Medeia tapped into her magic and disappeared, teleporting herself away from the attack and reappearing beside the priest. Surprised, he would try to strike her physically but his strength in that area was not the best and so Medeia simply slapped the attack away and hurled a flame surrounded punch, catching him hard in the stomach and causing him to reel back. Taking the advantage, the angel would then deliver another powerful flame filled blow, her foot meeting his face with a mighty crunch. Attacking with a savagery that she rarely showed, the witch would be upon him again, her purple coloured claw knocking his head up with a powerful slash, followed by a second strike across the torso. Blood would begin to pour from his body, which only caused Medeia to smile and open her mouth, feeding on it and restoring some of her vitality.

Disturbed by the sight, he would desperately stumble away, before releasing a blinding light that caused even the angel to throw her hand up and try to shield herself. An annoying attack and one that managed to affect her regardless. Blinded, she would briefly stagger, having to focus on her other senses, which thankfully were far more potent now that she was using force. She would close her eyes and instead focus on her senses of smell and hearing. The smell of his blood, the labouring of his breathing and his voice when he tried to summon a spell. They were the clues that she needed and as he came towards her, believing he would be able to strike her without any sign of a counter, she reached out. Her hand grabbing his arm and pulling him in close. Turning towards him, she would simply utter. “Not good enough.” Before briefly channelling and launching a powerful blast of elemental energy from her mouth, striking him from minimum range and shredding right through him. A brutal attack and as he tumbled to the ground, her sight would return, his spell broken.

The sight before her brought no shortage of pleasure, his body lying helplessly on the blood stained ground. He attempted to scrabble away but Medeia was having none of it. Pointing a finger towards him, a net of purple energy would come forth, travelling towards the priest and immobilising the fool when it reached him. Without any sympathy or mercy, she would then click her fingers one last time, resulting in an enormous black coloured coffin shaped box to surround his floundering body. Screaming would soon be heard from within but Medeia remained emotionless, knowing full well what was happening inside. When it all came to an end, there would be nothing left of him but a bloody stain, penetrated by her sarcophagus of pure terror. This battle was over.

Leaving what was left of him there, the angel would then proceed to walk over to the fallen Tura, examining him with her healer senses. He had taken a great deal of damage although Medeia was confident she could stabilise them but there was a small part of her that questioned whether she should. There was still that trace of resentment and the angel spent a few moments having an internal debate but in the end, it was Tiisha’s last words that rang loudest in her mind and her face that she kept seeing. With a sigh, she would channel her powers into her hands and begin the process of healing Tura’s wounds, fulfilling Tiisha’s desire.

(1223 Words)
(4611/4000 PWC)
(8554/8000 TWC)

Enemies:
Council Mages (6 eliminated)
Crusader Knight (24 eliminated)
Cleric of Arcanos (4 eliminated)
Archpriest of Arcanos (2 eliminated)

Tura's body sucked in the healing Medeia pushed into it. It seemed like a void absorbing it all and demanding more. His eyes flew open. The dragonling pushed himself to his knees. He bent at the waist to place his head on the snow. "This one apologizes for having injuries bad enough to require your magical attentions." Tura raised his head a fraction. His sister still lay within the core. Perhaps the angel would like to know such information? He wasn't sure how traveled the female was. Energy beings weren't exactly common and twins of such creatures even less so. "My sister died in front of you, did she not? Please, do not worry."

Tura sat up straight. Reaching into his chest, he grasped the glowing core within. The dragonling pulled it forth, displaying it for the fallen angel. There was no blood on it of any color. The core also stayed attached to Tura by grasping filaments of pure white. "She sleeps within. Such deaths are traumatic for our kind. Tiisha is still a young female. It will take some time for her to awaken and reform her body." The dragonling angled the orb. Inside it, a small dragon lay curled on herself. The long slender body held brilliant red scales, the color Tiisha's hair usually was when she appeared human. Once Tura thought Medeia had seen enough, he carefully replaced the core in his chest. The skin healed over leaving no trace it had ever been opened.

"This one wonders what the next move is" Turashi asked carefully. His eyes were down and away from the angel. His hands rested, palm up, on his knees. His head was bowed. Despite the lack of clothing, he did not shiver. His eyes flicked over the battlefield. "The opponent is dead as is the ally. The battlefield has soaked in blood. Mission accomplished?" His hope was evident in his voice. There was a possibility of reinforcements from the enemy. Nothing stopped Bellum from sending more troops. However, they'd only been charged with eliminating this group. What did they owe the mortals that might keep them here? Turashi kept his thoughts to himself though. He waited patiently for the ranking female to render her judgement of the situation.

377 (4321 of 4000)
8931/8000 TWC

“I am relieved to hear that she will be able to recover.” Medeia replied, her head watching the core of energy with a curious eye. It was a rather unusual connection that the twins shared and the angel would have to confess that it was somewhat new to her. His revelations helped greatly, even if she did not say as much and the sense of loss that she had begun to feel melted away. It surprised her somewhat as to just how attracted she had become to the red haired dragonling in such a short space of time but after a few moments of further thought, she reasoned that was always the way with her. The angel had been with many women in her time and yet the lust and desire never died, it was always burning within. “I expect to be informed as soon as she has recovered although knowing Tiisha, she will probably wish to do it herself.” It was a dry attempt at humour on her part, perhaps a sign that she had come to accept Tura. The memories of his actions during the date were still there but if Tiisha wished for Medeia to forgive him then she would do so. This once, anyway.

His question was a valid one and Medeia would briefly turn her gaze towards the blood covered ground around them. It did seem as though for the moment, the fighting had ceased. Her disgust with the nation of Bellum remained but the white hot anger that had pushed her forwards had begun to dwindle. She had sent a very clear message, one that was now embedded into the bodies of those that she had destroyed. Would she return one day to strike at them again? Probably. Today? No.”I believe that we can consider our task as complete. We have followed the orders of the Pergrande fools for long enough and have more than earned our reward. If they wish to fight any longer, they can do it themselves. Come. Let us return to base camp and retrieve what is owed to us.”

Her takeover and force abilities would fade away at this point, returning the angel to her usual raven haired state and as she led the way back to the camp, she was content with the events of the day.

(390 Words)
(5001/4000 PWC)
(9321/8000 TWC)

(4000/4000 Event WC)
(1000/1000 Freeform WC)