Dunkora: The Magick Wars

Started by Hunter Phoenix, August 08, 2013, 05:22:46 PM

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Hunter Phoenix

Jarvan stepped out of his tent into the fresh spring air and took a deep breath. Looking around the immediate area, he saw several of his fellow High Elves and greeted them in turn. Turning to the right from his tent entrance, he casually made his way to the feeding tent where he could partake of the morning meal before he marched with a battalion of warriors bound for a major engagement with the Dark Elves.

Jarvan was a mage, a recent volunteer for the High Elven army that had hastily been formed when the Dark Elves and their allies the Dragon Kin invaded the realm of Thankora, he could not stand by without doing his part in repelling the invaders, even if he did believe in the ways of peace. He thought at first that the Council would make the effort to create a peace treaty with their estranged blood cousins, but that idea was soon struck down by the ferocious invasion forces.

Gathering his morning meal, he sat down with a group of his fellow mages, offered up his prayers to the Elven Gods and Goddesses and then got stuck in. It was a simple meal of bread and vegetables; Elves didn't eat meat. Once he had finished, he ventured back to his tent to prepare for the march. He didn't need to take much, just his staff and he had to wear his robes while in battle.

Once he was ready, he stepped out and took one last look around before heading to the assembly area that would soon be filled with Elven soldiers and other mages. He took up position next to them at the rear of the assembled warriors, they had to support the army from the rear.

A horn blared and the battalion started marching, heading towards their first real taste of combat. Jarvan was nervous, he had not taken part in a battle until now, and he didn't have a clue as to what he should expect. He had heard mutterings from his brothers and sisters in the group that some of the fabled Dragon Kin would be present, he hoped there wouldn't be as he had heard many stories about their ferocity and fighting prowess, how they could destroy entire armies in a single sweep.

He hoped they would not be present, he planned on surviving this battle and going on to help in many more. While they marched, he went through the spells he could use to deal destruction to the enemy while he could heal his allies, he was accomplished in both of his practices and would do his best to save as many people as he could.

It was several hours before they reached the battlefield. Once there the soldiers all fanned out into their standard formation, with Jarvan and the four other mages standing in a line across the back of the battalion, each of them covering a section. They could see out before them, standing in a similar formation, line upon line of shining black armour. The Dark Elves were waiting for them. No sign of any Dragon Kin which could be taken as a good sign. Jarvan readied his first spell, it would send a torrent of fire towards the enemy, burning many of them. He raised his hand, called upon the energy within, extended it outwards, willing it to burn with the fury of the flame. He looked forwards to see a wave of fire streak through the air towards the enemy, when it landed, it engulfed a small area, cooking the Dark Elves it caught in their armour.

The battle had begun
Where Will A Creature Of Darkness Hide If Not In The Shadows Of The Night.

Demigod1945

    The tree's swayed in the wind, accompanied with snow falling off of their branches. Various wildlife thrived throughout the forest. From the small Toad, to the mighty bear, every animal howled it's call to the sun. All except a single albino deer, one of the rarest of its kind, and rumored to possess magickal properties. Many a hunter has tried and failed to capture or kill this majestic beast, all because of its almost unnatural ability to sense it's hunter and quickly disappear into the snow covered forest. But now it's mind was clouded by sickness, a sickness brought on from a concoction specifically designed to hamper the senses.

    And with this the deer's current hunter had the greatest advantage possible, the element of surprise. In one swift movement, he had an arrow knocked, and his bow pointed straight at the dear, he then adjusted for the wind and gravity. Normally one would have to move slowly and steadily, in order to not attract the deer's attention. But in this case, he had no need to worry of such a thing, seeing as how the deer had barely registered the movement, standing stock still with its head tilted toward the ground, eating what little grass that had survived the harsh winter. He waited a moment, and then gently whistled a flat tune.

    A minute passed, and then the deer's white head raised in response to the sound, almost blending into the white ground. It's head scanned the area in front of it, straining to discover the source of the sound, and that's when the hunter released his arrow. It left the bow with a silent hiss, making almost no sound as it sailed through the air. Dropping as gravity finally grasped it, it flew straight towards the deer's massive chest, and impacted right behind it's left front leg, straight into the heart. It stood stock still for a brief second, then jerked as if it planned to shoot off into the forest. But instead it simply dropped to the to the ground, lifeless. 

sparkles

A clouded sky brooded overhead, the sun breaking through only occasionally.  The distant rumble, however, was not thunder, but marching feet.  Two armies were drawing up in ordered ranks, the feet of the infantry and the hooves of the cavalry tramping the ground in a thunderous rhythm. 

Damien strode back and forth, his tail lashing, his wings folding and unfolding with nervous energy.  One hand rested on the hilt of the sword he bore, and his taloned fingers clenched it hard enough to dig claws into his own scaled skin.  The sound of marching armies was distant from here, though he could see the whole of the battlefield spread out before him.  He paused in his pacing and let out a derisive snort as he regarded the feeble, ground-bound creatures there.  The dark elves had power enough, else he would not be serving their cause, but the pitiful beings facing them were nothing.  He flared his wings and snorted again, wanting noting more than to launch himself into the air and rain down fire and terror on the enemy.  He could fell half the opposing army himself, he was sure of it. 

But he had his orders.  He was to wait until he was needed.  There might come some moment when the black-armored ranks below weakened, and he would set wing and drive back the enemy while his allies recovered.  So he paced, waiting for the moment, the order, when he could show his power.

A flare of fire caught his eye.  One of his fellow dragon kin?  No.  It had come from the enemy's side, a spell cast by one of their mages.  He heard distant screams as the dark-armored shapes the flame fell on burned and fell.

A sudden rush of fear knotted Damien's stomach.  If there were mages there, what other spells might they have? Perhaps he could not fell half the opposing army. Perhaps their mages would bring him down.  He snapped his wings open and closed with a snarl and resumed his pacing, forcing the thought aside.  Fear was a weakness he refused to indulge.   When the order came no one, not human nor elf, not mage nor elemental, would stop him!  He was Dragon Kin, they were nothing compared to him.

Hunter Phoenix

The elves assembled in front of the mages began to advance towards their enemies, fire was flowing thick and fast between the two camps, the mages working hard to disrupt formations as much as possible, to give the tactical advantage on the field. But these elves were disciplined in the ways of war and Jarvan knew that no matter how many their killed or lost in the opening salvos, it would not be enough to stop the advancement or force them to retreat.

Once the elves were within striking distance of each other and weapons were beginning to clash, Jarvan stopped firing off spells and prepared himself to deal with those that broke through to the back lines. The mages had been given basic combat training and they could use their staffs to stave off some attacks, but they would have to rely on their magick more than anything if they got in hot water. On top of that they would also need to heal their warriors as they came off the field, or retreat depending on how the battle went.

Thankfully, he had still not seen any sign of a Dragon Kin, because then the battle would definitely be lost. Keeping his thoughts trained on the battle, he had to fight off a couple of Dark Elves that broke through the army lines, intent on breaking the mages support. Using his staff to cave in the skull of the first to approach him, he had to rely on more fire to deal with the second, watching in horror as the proud, dark warrior reeled away and screamed in pain as his flesh seared away from his bones and he fell in a smoldering heap on the ground. Those who said there was glory in battle definitely had to have had a twisted sense of it.
Where Will A Creature Of Darkness Hide If Not In The Shadows Of The Night.

sparkles

Damien kept pacing, pausing now and again to see the progress of the battle.  Formations moved back and forth, fire and other spells flew, shouts and screams rose from the field.  They were all distant though, on the edge of hearing.  The battle itself was a low roar, a distant chime of swords and grumble of marching feet.

Damien wondered if he would ever be called on.  A traitor part of his mind hoped he would not.  But he snarled again as he thought it.  He would not show himself a coward!  He would prove his mettle!  Soon.  It had to be soon.  The waiting would drive him mad if it were not soon.

His eyes narrowed as he saw a spearhead formation of Dark Elves drive deep into the enemy's lines, breaking into their rear.  He grinned at this sign of obvious superiority, though his grin faded when the formation was cut off and the enemy mages began mowing down the surrounded warriors.  He spat in contempt, both for the failed Dark Elves and the sniveling Light Elves that had killed them. 

Then he felt his heart skip a beat.  The enemy was pushing forward.  The Dark Elf line held... in most places.  But now a spearhead of enemy fighters was driving deep on one side.  The line there might well crumple, and if it did the enemy would be on their flank.  That could not be allowed.  Surely now...?  He turned his head to the signal hill nearby and let out a roar of triumph as he saw the flare of colored fire.  It was time!

He spread his wings and launched himself into the sky.  Death was about to come to the weak beings below.  A death named Damien Phoenix!

Hunter Phoenix

Jarvan was busy healing a nearby soldier who had lost an arm when he saw the coloured fire go up into the air. Then he heard the roar, a distant rumble, like a mountain had just yawned and his insides froze. He knew exactly what was happening

" Oh Traako"

He looked to the soldiers and mages nearest to him. They had continued fighting, having not heard the roar. Abandoning the Elf that he was working on, he stood just in time to see a winged figure rise up from the rear and begin towards the battlefield. This battle was surely lost now, but he couldn't see anyone that could sound the retreat, they were all deeply engaged in the conflict. Seeing that this battle would soon come to a brutal and bloody conclusion, Jarvan steadied his nerves, conjured up the deadliest fire spell he could think of, concentrated, and let rip with multiple blasts of fire that were aimed directly at the approaching winged terror that would soon be reigning death down upon them.

Where Will A Creature Of Darkness Hide If Not In The Shadows Of The Night.

sparkles

Damien didn't even see the first fireball that roared up at him.  He was focusing his attention on his goal, a patch of contested ground to one side of the line of battle, where the dark forces were losing ground, so he wasn't looking anywhere near the spot behind enemy lines where the barrage of fire originated.  He heard it, but by the time he realized what had happened he'd been struck.  He slipped sideways in the air, fire streaming off his scales, and managed to avoid the rest of the blasts.  He was tough, and the one blast which had struck home, that might have killed a non-dragon-kin didn't kill him, but he was hurt all the same. 

He let out a roar of pain and anger and, still acting purely on instinct wheeled in the air and breathed out a stream of fire in the rough direction the blasts had come from.

Hunter Phoenix

Seeing the Dragon Kin shrug off his bursts of fire with little effect, Jarvan was not inspired with much courage, especially since in retaliation he saw a fireball roughly the size of himself coming his way, he dived out of the way just in time to avoid the fiery ball of death that would have reduced him to ashes in seconds.

Dragging himself back up, he looked at the Dragon Kin with a sense of fear and hatred in equal measure. This beast had come out of nowhere and now a battle that looked like it would have been a victory for the High Elves was now going to be reduced to a smoldering defeat.

Running over to a small group of the mages that were with him, Jarvan uttered quick instructions for them to send bursts of their magick at the great beast in tandem with him. He hoped the sheer number of spells that they could throw at this monstrosity would be enough to either kill it or drive it away from the battlefield long enough for the High Elves to either retreat or claim victory over their dark cousins.

Summoning more energy from deep inside him and directing it up into his staff, Jarvan sent a steady stream of fire from the tip of his weapon. He soon saw other forms of magick joining his to create a mighty barrage of magick that would surely prove problematic for the Dragon Kin up in the skies.
Where Will A Creature Of Darkness Hide If Not In The Shadows Of The Night.