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Gale Charming
69bee4
>>289582
I decide that I need to leave the sergeant alone, my instincts telling me that what she is doing might be some form of incantation or magic. I for a moment consider sticking around and trying to listen in actually, but with another swing of the club, I see that only a few of the Warboars may be holding steady for very long, and I know action needs to be taken. But what… what could I do under these…?
>>289583
>>289588
[Roll = 20, Second UNECESSARY roll = 20. Artificial Instrument of Fate and Burning Blood invoked: Minor-Major Moment of Inspiration
Burning Blood: Talent associated with the Hot Blooded emotional set, May be invoked when 32 acts in a manner that particularly personifies whatever his Hot-Blooded-ness is geared towards. Randomly risks invoking a Medium level Moment of Inspiration relevant to the situation.
I suddenly hear in my head a groundswell of the humming I had been doing under my breath, the empire’s glory given note. Truly if this not alone was sign enough, a plan enters my mind, and I decide I must act immediately.
“Kyon, however you got here so fast, do it again, and get on the other side of that thing!”
I recall something that Samir had told me, and decide to try saying it.
“I need an equilateral triangle, you, me, Cat, GO!”
Kyon “Yes, Sir.”
And with no other words, I see his hands and feet glow brightly once more, as he just sprints on top of the water, as if not only it was land, but aiding his ability to move. I turn now to Catalina, who appears to be headed almost exactly where I need her, but is instead in a wrong position with her sword drawn, waiting. No, no, no, this cannot do. Fate refuses, I refuse! That is not her place.
“Catalina! I need you eight steps northeasternly towards it, we are attacking it in waves, you, me, Kyon, Now.”
”huh? No, not now, Reinhold orde…”
I can’t be bothered to listen to her complaint, I have a place I need to be, my steps have been preordained, I must be at the front. I begin the mental invocation towards my Magitech heart, and just glance at her direction with all the fury and knowledge I am right I can muster. It is like a form of magic, one that cannot be resisted, she must obey her fate. Orders have their place, but this… this… “Catalina!”
For a moment, I almost… see perfectly the effect I have. My spear is readied, my footsteps are a font of strength, my form that of a beacon of death across the chaos of war. My eyes are molten steel, my movements those of a warrior god personified, my intent lethality with no escape. I can tell, to her eyes, at that moment, despite being twenty five or so feet away, it is as if I am looking at her directly.
“You must trust me. Attack when I give the opening.”
I swear I almost even see a tint of red come across her face from this distance, perfect, the fury has overtaken her too. I see her eyes look at her blade, as she begins moving as I commanded, her Broadsword now becoming sheathed in an essence of rock before she disappears behind the Commander’s bulk.
I continue my movement, and watch the world seem to slow ever further, the fiery club rising up for a third time in this battle, as I dash, both hands on my spear. I can feel the heat begin to pass overhead, as I dash to the predestined left, the club bypassing me mostly harmlessly, besides errant heat. I prepare a moment, and jab my spear forward, smashing into the doorplate-armor. Figments splinter, but my spear refuses to go further, fortunately it is not me who needs to deliver the first blows, as I hear the thudding and tearing of flesh behind the beast as my plan comes to fruition, a croaking roar of absolution. I feel some disappointment, even if it is ordained as such, I fall back. If only I could get an actual grip on the mud somehow… I find it problematic, I can only swing my spear at full force when I am on the ‘ground’, a good foot deep in the mud. Yet I cannot retain any real ability to move while this is so, and I would have been crushed otherwise. I suppose one must learn to rely on others at times it seems…
Yet, I find this unsatisfactory, and I make my demands of my body, a solution must be found. The creature begins to fall to its ‘knees’. Good, Catalina and Kyon knew their role in this attack, though I hear Catalina yell a bit even through the Commanders croak of anger, and the anthem of my mind as it turns slightly and swings at the two of them. Resolution must come, fate has decreed it, and I shall do it. Though fate gives me no answ…
>>289568
[3rd Roll = 20, GORTH arrives]
When suddenly I hear a deep, inhuman, roar tinged with anger, war, and sadness, as I turn my head and see the Morgren Gorth is…. Rampaging like a madman, breaking out from the southern side of the village, smashing buildings with his… with his?
… the fekk? Is he using two FROGGROCK MAJORS AS CLUBS!? Fate must have some sense of humor, as I nearly break out into laughter at the sight, and Emperor… I think one of them is still alive despite being smashed into wooden buildings, literally trying to kick Gorth. I guess he found some way to grab them after all…
Gorth literally leaps from the side of the village, the last dry spot before the entrenched mud we fight, as he bellows out another roar and begins SMACKING the Froggrock commander with his improvised… weapons? The first smack dropping the Fiery club/tree, and making it fall into the water.
GorthF’ER LURY AND MOED! RAWGGGGGG! LURRRRRRRYYYYYYYYY” he says as he smacks the Commander with the first Major right in its face.
“MOOOOOEDDDDDDD” as the second smashes and partially impales the Major on the doorplate’s bones
Gorth looks in hella bad shape though, his body is covered in bruises, and those spear marks I noted earlier from a distance appear to be nearly as big as my spear apiece, in a large circle, and are opened and bleeding at this point. His body is covered in purple-black bruises, and he has javelins sticking out of his body in places.
Nobody dares get in the way of the behemoths in battle, Major smacked like some sort of fish weapon against the doorplate a few more times. An oddly entrancing scene of sheer inane vigor as the Majors beat up uselessly against the Commander against their will, but keep the Commander unable to do more than uselessly flail fists that do nothing against Gorth, merely taking the blows.
Fekk! I feel it, my heart is beating rapidly already, its probably been nearly ten seconds… no, no, Fate has set this in motion. I must, I do… YES!
I am an instrument of fate.
The purifier of the unworthy.
I grab my spear fully once more to attack, and begin moving forward, slowly, and methodically. I fear not the loss of control, and embrace it, for it is my gift from the eyes of death.
I sate death, remove the failures life creates.
For to pierce in deaths name, is a gift much worthy.
I feel the lack of resistance as I move forward, but fate decrees my steps forward. I see the still smoldering club, defying the water, I see the Froggrock Commander, teetering from the assault, and I direct Gorth with but a word away.
To see death is to see all,
To see man live is to see man fall.
I shall sing the solem fifth
To see my spear become your scythe.
Gorth obeys, glancing at me but a second, while moving as I command. The setting is clear once more, and the Froggrock teeters on the edge of falling. I feel my heart and Fate tell me what to do, as I match my beating hearts to my steps, and force the vibrations down, and I feel… something change, as my steps become easier. I no longer hold the anthem I sing in, even as my mind says its prayer, demanding the foe hear the words of power, the words of those who have true divine providence.
So for it to be, that all things begin
I have arrived, to show you its end.
I reach the slightly staggered foe, who dares the audacity to swing at me. I swing forward in a slash with my spear, the land doing as I demand as I for that moment no longer sink, the beat of my heart having not ended. With ground not giving, my slash once more finds itself once more splintering the wooden plate of hardened wood, only to this time have it cede fully as I find the full force of a true thrust once more. Cutting a gash as deep as the entirely of my spear across a length of five or so feet, the pathetic creature at last gives into my plan and its fate, falling backwards on useless legs. I take a short leap as it falls, demanding once more from the land its solidity.
I watch it fall, its body slightly sinking into the same mud that me and fate called land, I pull my arms backwards, and thrust fully forwards, far into what would normally be danger for me with the beating of my heart, as I thrust forward to meet its fall. A solid wooden choker of sorts meets my silvery-metal blade, coated in mud and the ichor of the beast. I strike the femur in front, the bone surrendering in fragments as its owners death claims it as it should have, and meet the wood that befuddled my strength once more. The froggrock sinks slightly, the water gods daring to sap my strength, but it is for naught, as wood splinters like the thickest of bones, and my blade plunges into its neck. Blade at first only, as muscles and bones dare to resist, but it still only futile, as before I am done another foot of metal enters its neck. I believe it see it make an attempt for a croak, an act of defiance, only to feel nothing as its body deflates below me. A few moments later and I remove my spear, striking this time from the side in a pendulum motion, as my scythe cleaves a sheer half of its neck off at the head, the ichor pus blood of deaths sacrifice appeased for now.
My heart itself even calms, the Magitech stopping down on a simple command though far over any timeframe I had ever use it. I walk across the floating body as my ramp, as all stand in a sort of stunned silence that contrasts so horribly with the sounds of war around. I turn to Reinhold and grin to myself.
“Sorry Sergeant, did you want to handle that?”
Reinhold’s face goes from anger, confusion, mouth opening like a gaping fish into silence, to fury, and silence again.
I look though out of the corner of my eye, huh, that’s odd, how the fekk is that club still smoldering while on wat…
Suddenly the entirety of the club itself erupts into a fireball, as people dive for the cover of the muddy water, I find myself only averting my eyes and turning away, as the heat turns from unbearable, to uncomfortable, to only a fading reminder on cloth. I turn to the club to see a sillouette of a Froggrock in the fire. Some almost incomprehensible speaking of common coming from it.
(???/Froggrock?)“GRoakth! GURN! GRUN!”
Suddenly the fire dissipates from the club, and I see a Froggrock. Slightly smaller than most Majors, wielding some sort of odd walking stick, it sort of, shimmers with an odd… I don’t really know. However, everything now smells of char and fire not surprisingly, and most of the Warboars but the Captain are in full panic. Almost everyone else but me is standing, having dove into the water, except Kyon I note, who removes glowing hands from his face. Gorth also stands, but certainly not any better off having dealt with being hit by fire, he seems… conscious enough though. I begin to move towards the Froggrock, when suddenly the Froggrock says some nonsense again, and the body of the Commander begins to erupt into fire in seconds, as I desperately dive towards the mud, landing solidly, though without grace on my feet, sinking fully in a moment. I suspect this is the pretend magic Froggrock Reinhold mentioned.
>How should I approach the situation?
>Do I attempt to get the others to do anything?
>I still have probably three seconds on my heart, but It will be usable by the time I reach it.
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(Learned/Used with talking to Catalina)
Talent Learned: Death Before Dishonor: A talent that normally requires 2 Command skill. Soldiers will always respect a commander that is personally willing to lead them into the coldest depths of the afterlife personally. Whenever Thirty Two is directly involved in an action that is considered dangerous in some way by nearby persons, and is willing to actively be involved, his effective Speechmaking/Command will be improved for convincing others to follow or obey, acting as a bastion of hope to the fearful soldiers. However, to have your beacon of hope fall can lead to unforeseen consequences, persons affected by this who see Thirty Two fall will generally act either in one of two ways, immediately disengaging and fleeing, or being filled with hopeless fury and attacking no matter the losses (depending on the level of effectiveness, wording used, etc).
(Learned/Used in order to attack with more force on the mud)
Talent Learned: Congealing Vibrations (lvl 0): As long as Thirty Two’s Magitech heart is active, and focus is given to causing the effect, all immediate local surfaces are granted a greater resistance of force. In effect, all solid surfaces have more friction, and thus allow him to have a weak brace where even none may be found, all semi-liquids (such as mud) become more solid-like. Knocking down and throwing Thirty Two off the ground require more force against also. Requires at least 3 seconds of time with Heart activated to use. Level 0 allows a minimal manipulation under non Moment circumstances. Cost can be lowered for upgrades by ___________.
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