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Post by The Carrying Blade on Sept 24, 2017 9:50:13 GMT -8
POSTS FROM DD SITE: Blade- The shot, being fired out of panic without real aim, passed by Grom, and the ‘ghoul’. However, out of the facts stated, and that Aria had not even decided to move from her spot, she was the unlucky target for the shot.
She had spinned to look at the bloody priest that had fallen from the ceiling that had tried to ambush Grom, her mind thinking it was the creature. As she did so she heard the sound of Mals gun firing, and the next thing she knew her right arm, below the elbow in the middle of her forearm had ignited with pain.
Blood was gushing out of Arias arm, the Musket ball was at her feet. Her arm had been almost blasted off, the musket ball taking a chunk out of it. It broke some of the bone, causing the lower part of her arm to dangle off like fabric that had been torn partly off.
She screamed in pain and fell to her knees, out of all the things she hadn’t expected to be shot by her own teammate, even if it was an accident. She shakingly held the dangling lower part of her arm so it would cause less pain and make sure it didn’t tear completely off. Shock had reduced her senses but pain courses through her still.
Rum- Falling into the pile of dead, Grom could soon join them – helpless as he was against the stab attempt. The outlaw grit his teeth, hissing and growling in pain, letting out but a small yelp.
Keeping his hands close to the body, whatever the thing was that tried to bite him had to first eat lead from a loaded flintlock, shot at point blank, as Grom twisted to face it. He covered his face with the knife arm and pulled the trigger.
Black- “Holy-!!”
Mal’s panic, from having nearly blasted her ally’s arm off, was interrupted by the charging madman. His shove knocked her onto her rear, though she acted quickly, grabbing the musket’s barrel in both hands and swinging the butt of the rifle to knock the assailant over the head.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Sept 26, 2017 16:21:40 GMT -8
The attack was easily seen by the mad man who had slowly continued forward with his momentum from his push. He desperately raised his arms to block the incoming rifle, less he was knocked out. The sound of bone cracking would reach Mal's ears, before a wail of pain erupted soon after. She had broken the mad mans left arm, causing him to stumble back dazed and confused, giving Mal a perfect oppurtunity to either finish him off or stun him.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Sept 26, 2017 17:46:39 GMT -8
/Dominic/
With a bellowing roar, the Giant surged forward; his longsword's pommel nigh couched against his ribs like a lance, as his other hand held the blade three quarters a ways up its length. Steering it like a spear towards the Bloody Priest's chest as he charged.
His mind was all but a clamour of gunfire echoing on the cobblestones, and blood pumping in his ears; his heart pumped with righteous fury, fear squashed by years of prayer and vengeful valedictions. The blood and the gibbets were all due for the course, and blurred as he focused on the singular, unholy enemy in mockful cloth...
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Post by black379 on Sept 27, 2017 7:33:45 GMT -8
Mallilie made to get back onto her feet, though the sludge of corpse and blood made that difficult. She slipped more than a couple of times in the grotesque muck, coating her sleeves and the back of her pants and top with sick red. Her eyes shut tight for a brief moment. She needed time just in her head, to urge herself forward in spite of the gore.
"C'mon Mal. C'mon Mal."
This was nothing like a hunt. She questioned her reasoning to put herself through another gruesome gauntlet. She drew her sidearm from her belt and finally reopened her eyes to stand again. She quickly assessed the remaining threat. What seemed most dire was Aria's horrible wound, which Mal had dealt out herself...
The musketeer cast her aim on the dazed madman, and fired her pistol.
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Post by twostepsback on Sept 30, 2017 10:18:44 GMT -8
The blood-soaked priest staggered a step to his right, unknowingly throwing off Dom's aim while at the same time cradling the gut wound he had just received from Grom's point-blank gunshot. "Heh... Well... This Famine didn't last long... Wonder how the others will do..." He remarks resignedly as he sways on his feet.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Sept 30, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
The dazed madman heard the shot of Mals gun, his head snapping to the sound with wide eyes as he knew what was going to happen. He had lost his smile when Mal broke his arm, but it returned as his head snapped toward Mal, shaky, full of fear instead of glee.
"Heheh." The small laugh of resignation exited his mouth before his body was knocked backwards as the shot collided with his face. It entered right above the mouth where the space between it and the nose was located, basically piercing the face about an inch deep before the shot in question broke in shrapnel. It didn't instantly kill him, but as he fell to the floor blood had begun to fill his lungs and throat to drown him. He hadn't the strength to lift himself up and so he gurgled trying to continue to laugh before his inevitable demise.
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Post by rumsztyk on Oct 3, 2017 7:44:13 GMT -8
He thought he was beyond that. He thought his life had no more value. And yet, the only thing Grom could think of right now is the bleeding gut wound and how to fix it. Quickly he realized that it was impossible in his current state, so all he did was press one hand on it to staunch the bleeding. The other was gripping the knife tightly, the gun holstered, bloody one-off piece of shit.
Staggering on his feet, he got off the corpse mound. Seeing the... thing engaged with Dominic, he decides to creep up the long way around. Hopefully the trail of blood was not too much of a giveaway.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 7, 2017 18:30:05 GMT -8
/Dominic/
"Silence, Cur!" Dominic kept shouting, as his lunge seemed to veer off from his course; the man still managing to dance away from Dominic's lumbering and large form. He did not miss often, but he knew never to let a Crusade slip from one foul play.
Dominic passed his sword off to his left hand, as his right snapped fast around and curled into a fist: aiming at the man's temple as he turned the momentum of his lunge into a vicious haymaker.
//
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Post by twostepsback on Nov 9, 2017 19:00:48 GMT -8
The man smiles grimly at Dom, as he says "Three Horsemen left.". The priest doesn't even attempt to dodge Dom's punch, the powerful fist colliding with his face. It broke his teeth, broke his nose, the force of the punch made his head snap back and pushed his body just a few inches off the ground. Enough to cause him to fall back to the floor, his legs and arms spread on the ground, limp.
Though he wasn't dead, not yet, the telltale sound of his last gasps escaped his throat as this beast of a priest lay there on the floor waiting to be finished. Dominic could easily use his sword, Mal or Grom could shoot him in the head, maybe Aria could do something if she wasn't in shock and bleeding with part of her arm shot off right now.
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Post by black379 on Nov 15, 2017 21:02:24 GMT -8
Mal grimaced as the enemies were felled. Her eyes shut tight once more but her senses couldn't so easily escape the grotesque surroundings. To hear the men, rasping and gargling on their own blood, made her convulse.
She had killed plenty of beasts before. Even the monstrous swine in the warrens were just overgrown pigs, and she had hardly stomached them. She didn't move from her spot, only clasping her mitts over her ears to silence the death rattles of the dying men.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Nov 17, 2017 6:56:57 GMT -8
Aria had slowly come out of shock, the gravity of the situation bearing down on her. Her arm was....she didn't want to think about it but it was all that came to her mind. Her arm was probably unsaveable, and if they couldn't get out it wouldn't even matter. She was so focused on herself that she didn't watch the others fight, when the enemies had started to die however she had tried hard not to focus on the horrifying deaths or her surroundings. But, again it was foolish to try, there was nothing to stop her from crying, another expedition where it ended in tears, but alas, unlike the other one there would not be a huge cache of trinkets and valuables for her to recover with.
She shakily laid down her almost completely blown off part of her arm on her leg. Meanwhile she went and grabbed her knife with her left hand, and tried very poorly to cut off the fabric above her elbow which was incredibly hard to do with one hand. She stopped, it was a useless effort without an extra set of hands.
"Mal?......Grom? Can....can someone help me?" She called out, her voice weak and strained. She hoped one of them would come and help her, if not then maybe even Dominic though she was less enthusiastic about him trying to be gentle.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 17, 2017 10:30:11 GMT -8
/Dominic/
"And they will fall like the rest." He growled back to the Priest; his Longsword flourished in the air as his heavy feet fell viciously and unceremoniously upon either of the man's wrists. If they were clutched to a place they might not be pinned to the ground, he would have simply pushed them to the side with his heavy steel sabatons.
For a moment, his mind cleared of the vicious zealotous light that had destined him to purge this dungeon, and he considered the value of hearing the man out. Clear, long enough, to plant the Longsword's point into the groove of the cobblestone's next to the man's neck, instead of plainly in the jugular. But, alas, some fervor slipped in and the blade grazed the man's neck flesh.
Enough to intimidate, to wet the grooved blade, but not enough to bleed him like a stuck pig. Rather, a pinned hare.
His head swivelled about, then, as the clamour of Light fought for his attentions; he spied Grom, bleeding from his gut. The Little Thunder clutching her ears, deafened by a the frightful chorus of Bloody Light. And, last, Aria who too clutched a wound as bare as Grom's; his gut stirred at the vicious nature of gunpowder.
But his mind settled on one fact; there was no time for the Priest. Knowledge may wet the fields, but the crops won't grow without muscle to harvest, to plant.
So he gripped his Longsword's hilt in both hands, and looked down to the perhaps maddened, corrupted, Priest:
"May the your Flame find rest in my Radiance, Sacerdos Emortuus."
His muscles moved, and dragged the blade across the cobblestones, and through the Priest's neck.
//
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Post by rumsztyk on Nov 30, 2017 11:32:35 GMT -8
With utmost disdain, Grom spat in the deceased priest's general direction. "Bloody bastard..." he half muttered, half hissed, still in pain from the wound. Ignoring Aria's call for help entirely - he really had better things to do - the outlaw approached the corpse with knife in hand. "This, hng... this'll do." He knelt, raised the weapon high, and swung.
Soon, the priest's robes were fashioned into impromptu bandages. Filthy, but he had nothing better.
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Post by twostepsback on Dec 1, 2017 19:57:46 GMT -8
The Famine Priest died with a grin. His last thought was which of his two 'brothers' would move first, Bloodthirsty Ortaro, or Patient Azulos
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Post by black379 on Dec 5, 2017 10:36:49 GMT -8
The musketeer whimpered, unable to silence Aria's cry. Though she tried to regain her composure, it was all quite overwhelming.
Her father, silently, put his finger to his lips. She nodded. Her eyes followed as he pointed through a clearing in the trees. A young buck reared it head upward and took slow steps from its concealment in the green brush. Mallilie eased the rifle to rest on her shoulder, it's barrel leveled with the beast some many yards away. Her breathing slowed as her finger delicately settled on the trigger.
Mal's shut eyes uncreased, and her body untensed as she forced steady breaths. Once her eyes were open again, she fixed them on Aria, and began to move to her. She pushed herself to ignore the blood soaking into her clothes. The blonde offered no apology, yet, and immediately cut away the sleeve from Aria's mangled arm. The wound was almost like that of a carved up animal, and so she let herself see it as such.
"You'll be alright." Her voice was thick with suppressed severity.
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