We Are The Legends

[Tusk]

It had been 4 months since the Legends started there march to take back the gnome lands. It had been a very hard march. Refugees from the Gnome Captial of Mechin had taken their place following the small army that consisted mostly of gnomes at this time. They all flew the banner of Dorik Silverbeard and the entire army veiwed him as a giant even through he was only a dwarf. Dorik stood in the encampment that had just finished being set up for the night. He watched as the refugees were trying their best to set up the tents but many failed to stand. The Gnomes of Mechin usually never went camping and after several weeks of traveling, they still did not know how to get the tent to stand. They stood at the level of Genius in new technology, but that meant they did not stand outdoors for long. He also noticed something. A human Paladin, the one he got from the Tor Monistary, was helping the refugees set up for the night. He did this every night for a week now. Chances were, if Dorik had him here instead of the front lines or scouting the area, he would of done this every night.

Veros had just finished a Tent and recieved many thankyous from the Gnome family that needed it.
" Oh thankyou kind sir, You keep helping us and we still do not know what to do. I wish there was some way to repay you. "
THe male gnome said.
" Just remember that you are suppost to hammer the spikes into the ground and it will stay up. "
Veros said as he bowed and stepped away ready to find another tent. He suddenly noticed that Dorik was staring at him. He turned and walked to Dorik, the man's beard had been graying for some time now. When Veros got to him, he spoke.
" Yes sir, any orders? "
" One captian. Stop calling me sir all the time. I have to tell your thick headed ass this more times than I care to count. "
The dwarf replied but the voice was in a joking manner, something Veros had to get used to.
" Still I thank you for helping the refugees. It is a small thing that helps our cause of being liberators. How have you come in your training? "
Dorik asked after a sigh.
" I almost have it. The Paladins back home call it Divine Cut and it mixes the light power of Tor into our weapons and does even more damage. I am just missing something needed to get it working. "
" Bah, you are a captian because you stick with it. Just keep up with my training regimant I told you to do every morning and you will be as strong as me one day. "
The dwarf smiled a bit, but suddenly he heard a scream as Undead began to rise and a horn blast was sounded. They were under attack and the refugees were the target!
" Quick Veros come with me! We need to save the Refugees! "
The two ran inbetween the Undead and Dorik took out a horn and blasted it. Soon everyone would come his way and the fight would be done. However he and Veros needed to stand their ground. The number of undead were growing and Veros began to shake a little. There was no way he could take them all on. He drew his sword, but it was shaking in his hand.
" Hey Boy! "
Dorik shouted.
" Remember your training and you will get through this! Now where are the other captains? "
Soon the undead were apon them and Dorik began cutting them down as soon as they stepped foot in the area. Veros was able to hold his own. These undead were not a problem, but the higher ranked ones would soon be there.

[GnomesAteMyCake]

Hopping lithely from the pine she had been previously sitting in, Kylar dropped silently to the forest floor. Her ears swivled in all directions, as she sniffed the air, trying to detect any scents that didn't fit in her woody surroundings. Nothing. So Dorik had sent her on his scouting mission for nothing. Probably to get her out of the refugee camp for a few hours, which was something the hanyou* was only too happy to do. Sighing, Kylar stretched, raising her arms above her head and exhaling loudly, baring her tiny fangs in a yawn, and twitching one of her long ears.

"May as well head back," she grumbled to herself, turning tail and walking back towards the south, in no big rush to get back to Dorik's army. Although she had been with them for a few months, she could still hear them talking about her, viscious comments and threats when they thought she was out of earshot. Stupid humans, not realising her hearing was much better than thier own. But Kylar didn't care what people said; If she hadn't grown a thick skin when she was young, she wouldn't be where she was now.
As she walked, wrapped in her thoughts, she heard a disturbance. Her ears twitched, turning towards the sound, which was straight ahead of her. Sounded like....a bugle. Rolling her eyes, she began running towards the call, her long strides and increased speed causing her to fly across the countryside.
"Can't leave those pathetic humans for more than five minutes without them causing trouble," she hissed under her breath and she leaped over a small bush. "And all them dwarves and gnomes ain't much better."

Slowing to a stop on the top of a small hill, she looked down to where the camp was and sighed. Undead, and by the look of it there was to be quite a few of them. Lo and behold, Dorik and one of his captains were running to save the poor refugees, and getting themselves right in the middle of it. She knew that Dorik was strong, but seriously, could he have done anything more stupid?
Pulling her bow from her back and quickly loading a arrow, she fired at an Undead who was attempting to sneak up on the captain that was with Dorik. Smirking, she quickly reloaded and took out a few more Undead with her bow, before lopping down the hill and coming to a halt on the edge of the camp.
"Looks like you could use some help, old man!" she shouted arrogantly, a smirk playing about her lips. She wasn't usually that rude to Dorik, but getting himself right in the centre of a fight when he wasn't as young as he used to be was just plain stupid. What if an Undead snuck up on him? Bam, and he would be dead. What a waste of life.
And Kylar knew all too well how precious life could be when you were surrounded by people who wanted you dead.

*Hanyou = Half-Demon.

[Vale]

Around the camp, Clyvaan was working with another Paladin, a Human who was more healer than warrior. Pitiful creature.
"Place the...the-the-the seals on, Cly..." The human was stuttering. But why?
"I already have. My retribution defensive seals were finished hours ago, I'm just here to ensure you finish yours without delay." Clyvaan spoke, crossing his arms. His massive sword holstered on his back with the hilt directly behind his head, and a large black shawl covering his white and black armor underneath. "I respect your skills, Healer, but do not adorn such a title as 'Holy Paladin' it sets off the wrong image for you." Clyvaan spoke, trying to make small talk with the other holy-knight.
"But-but-I am?"
"Maybe, but your gods aren't tr--" Clyvaan's zeal was interrupted by a Bugle call by Dorik. "Forgive me, but I have to go." He spoke, as he turned on heel and slowly began to walk to where the call sounded.


Clyvaan was slowly walking to where Veros, Dorik, and the wretched half-demon were fighting.
"Allow my blade to cut through these infidels.." He spoke, staring down the Half-demon archer as he drew his strange massive black blade and swung it half circle.

"Don't waste your time on the peons, strike at the core and destroy this infestation, purge these anti-souls and send them back to Malkar." He spoke, as he lifted his massive sword (massive in comparison to his thin elvish self) and swung it down with a single hand, slicing two undead with it, turning them both into ash in a flurry of light and fire.

Clyvaan Whisperwind, who knew what he really was or why he fought the way he did. He claimed he exercised the will of the gods, but no other paladin welcomed him. For he was not a Paladin of Tor, Most definitely not Sal either. He never worshiped his gods in public, so few knew who he truly was the instrument of. He was someone who's power was only matched by his reckless zeal. Still, there were still things that he needed to learn, like how to stop being such a prick, and to 'lighten up', in a matter of words.

Still, while he wielded the Ashbringer, he was someone who wasn't quite right in the head.
"General Dorik, watch your back, these undead are only the first wave." He spoke, as he plunged his massive sword into the midsection of another undead, skewering him from the chest.

[GnomesAteMyCake]

Kylar swung her head around to glare at Clyvaan, growling slightly. She slung her bow across her back, and leapt at one of the Undead, digging her clawed fingers into the neck of the beast. She pulled her legs up and delivered a kick into the chest of the creature, jerking the head satisfyingly and breaking the neck, and sending the now dead thing to the floor. Knees bent slightly, she swung her leg around in another kick and sent another creature flying.

"And that makes the score five," she said smugly, snorting at Clyvaan as she danced past him, slashing at another Undead. "For the record, don't ever look down your nose at me, Elf," she said dangerously, her eyes narrowed. She turned away from the Paladin, her long white ponytail slapping his face as she did so, and dove into the fight again, slashing and kicking all Undead that fell in her path. Stupid holy knights, she thought to herself venomously. Always tryin' to make a fight when it's not the right time. Why couldn't he start later? Then I could give him a real run for his money.
Grinning, she stamped on the foot of an Undead, then bent and linked her hands together before slamming them under the jaw of the zombie. The corpse fell in a cloud of dust, and Dorik stood before her. Smirking down at the Dwarf, she grudgingly took his left side, he knees slightly bent and clawed hands raised.

"Thanks for sending me on that trip by the way, chief," she grouched, a small smirk on her face. "If you'd let me stay, then we wouldn't be havin' this problem. I would'a smelled these creeps from a mile off." Wrinkling her noise, she sneezed, the dust and foul smell of the corpses finally getting to her delicate nose. "Count yourself lucky that ya sense of smell ain't as good as mine."

[TragicAce]

It was mid afternoon and as such, Adwell was comfortably enjoying some warm tea as he gazed lazily upon the encampment. It was a warm and refreshing day, and the machinist was determined to make the best of it. All this marching had made him irritable as of late and he much preferred the comforts of being by himself for a time. Leaning up against the tree he took in the natural beauty of the scene while taking a long sip of the warm brew. The Gnomes had not half-a-clue as to raising a tent, but neither did he. Thankfully a paladin with too much free time on his hands had set up his tent already. Good boy, that one. Failing to suppress a yawn Adwell had every intention of take a nice catnap beneath a large oak tree.

A large nap-preventing bugle came from somewhere down in camp. It’s location of origin was not on Callister’s list of priorities, however. “An hour’s rest too much to ask?! If it’s that blasted drawf and his training drills again I’ll ring his neck!” After standing afoot and brushing himself off he went for his rifle and pack. He was ‘supposedly’ out hunting, after all. In no rush he slowly made his way down to the camp, curious to what the ruckus was all about. Women and children running in fear, some men doing the same. His gun loaded and ready, he made for Prometheus. A man with flesh flailing from his bones and sunken eyes can in between the two. “KRABOM!” The Dragoon Mach 3 shoot with such a force that the walking corpse flew into a dozen pieces, and made such a noise that even the frightened refugees took a pause upon hearing it. Reloading on the run as he had trained himself to do he made his way on top of his companion and golem construct.

“Rev up that drill of yours, old friend. I think we’ll have need of it.”

[Vale]

Clyvaan scoffed hard at the half-demon prancing around him, more foolish than he would ever seem to admit.
"Those who forfeit their eternal souls for eternal life, deserve neither." He spoke, as he single-handedly swung his two-handed sword through piles of Undead, cleaves left and right, leaving a mass of putrid corpse in his wake.

"Consecration, these vermin deserve no quarter! Their sins stink worse than their flesh!" He bellowed as it seemed his black blade begun to glow with a strange aura, it was neither Holy or Unholy, just....power. Pure, unhindered, unmolested power.

"Ashbringer!" He shouted, the consecrated name of his sword, it was truly a sight to behold. But few could stand in the paladin's way....or so he thought.


Upon his follow through swing, his blade was actually caught by an undead.....to be precise, several undead. It seemed as though it was a patchwork collection of monsters.

Smiling a bit, Clyvaan spoke softly.
"A swift re-death, is all that must be emparted with you. Just, and true."

[Tusk]

" Keep Focus! "
Dorik Roared as he moved like a tornado of death. Each swing was quick and accurate and quickly followed by another swing. It was a continous chain of destruction that left the undead simply falling apart. Veros was shocked at the skill the dwarf had. He had just finished his squireship and had trouble with just the simple paladin skills. However the Dwarf kept reassuring him he was getting better. The Dwarf had always kept Veros, Clyvaan, Adwell, and Kylar in some sort of training regimine. It was as though he was trying to make them far better than they were. Though the area of training was always diffrent for each of them, Veros had felt his skill growing slowly but surely.

The undead were falling but soon the ground began to shake violently. Suddenly an Undead Giant appeared with a roar. Veros stopped as his widened eyes watched the Giant appear. The Undead Brute stood atleast 20 feet in height and carried what looked like a large bone for a club. Just as he appeared, the Legend army came and began to help with the small undead. Dorik Let out another shout.
" Clyvaan, Kylar, Veros, Adwell, Take down that Giant! "
The Dwarf then jumped into the mass of undead, swinging away and re-killing them. Veros looked even more shocked, but it was soon turned into a calmness as he stared at the Giant that was advancing.
" You heard Dorik, Let us send this monstrosity back to his grave! "
Veros walked a few steps before charging right toward the Zombie Giant. He let out a shout as he was charging,
" For the Might Tor! "
He let out a swing and hit the giant in the leg, But it did nothing. He had to avoid a stomp but he was soon at it again. still his attacks were too weak for the hardened skin of the zombie.

[Vale]

"Your god is weak, Veros." Clyvaan shouted, leaping straight into the air as his Ashbringer-blade was adding a cold silver Aura to the Elvish Paladin.

Bringing it down overhead, directly onto the back of the head of the giant only caused the blade to get lodged in the undead's rotting, now concave, cranium.

The Retribution Paladin could feel countless surges of dark, dark energies emitting from the Zombie Giant.
The wound was far from fatal, or...deadly...after all, how can something undead, get a fatal wound?

Clyvaan did however, find a way to reclaim the reigns on the Massive sword which he was using.

"Adwell, use your machines...bore into his chest and find home. Wherever the source of it's power is..." Clyvaan was cut off from his concentration as the zombie Giant begun flailing around.


"Destroy it!"

[Tusk]

" Your sight is too short to realize the power of Tor. "
Veros shouted back as he dodged a club smash that shook ground. Veros was quick as he jumped ontop the club and stabbed the bone club and hung on to dear life as the Giant lifted the club. Once the Giant Realized Veros was along for the ride, Veros tore out his sword and slid down the giant's arm all the while shouting,
" Divine Cut! "
His blade began to glow a dim white and he swung right at the giant's face. It connected and it disinigrated part of the Giant's cheek. He kicked off the Giant's face and cut down the leg of the giant and landed on his feet. His eyes were amazed that he could do it, but it was still very weak. Paladins have been known to send powerful waves of the attack that could leave the sword. He did manage one thing. He managed to annoy the giant into focusing on him. He dodged more swings at a faster pace.

[GnomesAteMyCake]

"You might wanna move, human!" Kylar shouted at Veros, who was now being targeted. She fired an arrow at the creatures smashed face, lodging the shart near it's eye. It didn't really notice. "The only thing you've succeeded in doin' is makin' it angry!"
She ran to his side, and aimed at the Undead's face once more, having a better shot. She let the arrow fly, and this time it struck true; right in one of it's black eyes. She growled, a smirk playing across her face as it roared in agony, flailing it's limbs in pain. It raised a foot and began lowering it where she and Veros were stood. "Look out!" she shouted, grabbing the Paladins arm and using her increased speed to pull him to safety. She flew forward as it stomped on the groud where they had been stood, but landed with a roll and span around, firing another arrow.

"Oh yeah! I'm fuckin' amazing!" she yelled, grinning widely and showing her fangs. She'd hit the undead in it's other eye, rendering the thing blind. "Someone else can kill it now. I'm goin' for a nap," she yawned, tucking her bow over her shoulder and across her back, stretching her arms into the air. She walked past Veros, who just stared at her, and sighed loudly, the sound tempering off into the slightest of hisses.
"Thanks for savin' my life, Kylar! 'Oh, that's no problem human, but don't get used to it, it was a onetime thing.' That's fine Kylar, i'm just so honoured you even considered savin' my wretched hide!" she muttered to herself, loud enough even for a human's weak ears to hear.

She leapt up into a tree near the fightsite, firing random arrows into Undead that staggered past, and kept an eye on the humans and elf who were fighting the huge Undead. Just in case they couldn't take it and they needed her... she couldn't let them die, not yet anyway...

[TragicAce]

Adwell and his mechanical golem were handling themselves fair enough, the former blasting to pieces the mindless zombies from afar and the latter shredding those who got close. The undead were often too clumsy to pose too much a threat when spread out as they were across the encampment. It was clear that the drill was not made to dig through flesh and bones as the skilled mechanist noticed a slight decrease in its rotations per minute. He was already in despair at the thought of cleaning it after the battle was over. Adwell could fill a few shakes in the ground but had thought nothing of it until:

" Clyvaan, Kylar, Veros, Adwell, Take down that Giant! "

Slowly and lamentably Adwell turned his head to the direction of Dorik’s voice. The monstrosity roared deeply as it swung its bone club at friend and foe alike. The engineer decided to take the moment to…formulate a strategy, yes, that was it. Fear of a painful and probable death had naught to do with it! On the positive side of things the other undead had cleared out from his location. Likely-Adwell mused-they were smarter than he was. Or at least wiser. He had wanted to retreat with the other refugees, but with Dorik expecting him to be some kind of “student” or something of the sort he couldn’t. The relentless training lessons were as much a bore as they were a pain and having to deal with those miscreants…curse the gods!

"Adwell, use your machines...bore into his chest and find home. Wherever the source of it's power is..."

The paladin-the rude one-whose name he had never took the time to remember “Kylar, maybe?” was barking off an order like he always did back in the training sessions. Adwell had already considered the idea of using the drill into the dead giant’s midsection, but there were many variables that would cause such an uninspired tactic to fail. To get the kind of momentum required to break into it’s hardened outside Prometheus would need a straight line of approximately 40 yards. And that club he was swinging-now certainly blindly being as Adwell’s companions had stolen it’s sight-was also an issue. As close as Adwell would need to drill it, he would likely be dead…

“This is unarguably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” The redhead muttered to his companion as he made his way inside the self-proclaimed ‘water-proof’ chamber inside the machination. It was far from comfy and for all of Adwell and the Dragoon Mach 3 to fit inside he had to put his legs up against his head in a position that his neck openly voiced its discomfort. If the controls worked inside the compartment as they should then he would be able to make the delicate maneuvers necessary to land his target. The others had hopefully kept the giant’s attention. Prometheus started slowly, its drill Callister could feel the vibrations of as it revved up. This would be no small feat being that his vision limited to the small hole he had squeezed backwards into. The machine picked up speed, faster and faster the mechanist and creation made their way to the giant.

The collision was abrupt. After the initial shock the window had caved in letting in blood and guts and worse. This was as close to hell as Adwell Callister could possibly be. In an act of revenge he aimed a shot right into the giant’s corpse, but regretted it shortly after. He was now in a smoked-filled chamber with insides of an undead giant to keep him company, with hardly any room to maneuver around. Adwell was in such disgust with his situation he couldn’t formulate words, only a slur of curses.

[Tusk]

The Giant was now on its last limb. Veros was going to thank Kylar for saving him, but she went off and did her own thing. Veros knew why she was like the way she was, but he could of done without the additude. When she was ever in camp, he tried to be a friend. Half Demon or not, she had some good in her and Tor had taught him to look outside heritage and find the person.
Either way, Adwell had done wonderfully in his success in Drilling into the Giant. It was time to end this.
" Clyvaan, let us end this right now! "
Veros began running and jumped onto the Gian't arm. Just at that time, the Giant began moving around to try and remove the drill. Veros Climed up to the Shoulder and Shouted
" Divine Cut! "
It had less power than before but still strong to lodge into the Giant's neck. It fell to it's knees as Veros tried to take out his sword. He only hoped Clyvaan would put the Giant out of its misery with a swing from him.

[Vale]

Smiling, He noticed that the human machinist was being flooded with the wretched putrid innards of the Zombie Giant.
"Very well Human." Clyvaan flipped back, yanking his Ashbringer greatsword out of the Zombie's nearly destroyed head.

With a free outstretched hand, he was single-handing the massive greatsword with little strain on his body.
"Ashbringer...your unquestioning power, Channel it, focus into a single strike. Justice is swift and without mercy, for in the view of all beings, power is just that. It is unaltered, it is unbias, it is unconquerable." His cold silver aura was enflared, just the area around him began to feel the Retribution Paladin's power.

Unleashing a strange elvish battle cry, he leaped right up in the air, focusing all of extra power into a single strike.
"Ashbringer, do not fail us! Your judgment is pure!" He shouted as his body descending, still holding his greatsword in a single hand.

"Invictus Iudicium" He shouted, as he swung with his silver-aura'd-Ashbringer, as when it connected with the right side of the Giant's neck, it began to unmake the tissue, making it impossible to heal, or regenerate.

The blade had severed the Zombie's mutated, putrid skull from it's body, as it seemed the silver aura began to eat away at the now removed head until there was nothing of the head left.

In the follow-through swing, Clyvaan spun 180 degrees Landing, although to be more specific he stumbled and collapsed to a knee, his hand was bleeding from clutching the handle of his Ashbringer great-sword.

"Purity..."He spoke as he tried to stand on his own, but he stumbled again, rebalancing himself with the blade.

"Is absolute. It must be kept with order.."

[Tusk]

It was done. The Giant fell and Dorik had made short work with the lesser undead. He would not show it, but he watched the fight even with his own battle to worry about. The dwarf let out a small sigh as the army managed to clear out the undead. He looked to Clyvaan, Adwell, Kylar, and Veros with a calm look on his face.
" You four, come with me. There is much to discuss. The rest of you lazy dogs help the refugees. I want to be moving in an hour! "
He then motioned for the four who took down the giant to follow him to his Wagon.

Veros followed Dorik with a look of suprise to the group. THe feild was scattered with undead and a few unlucky soldiers. THe paladin prayed to Tor for the dead to find peace again. He soon entered the wagon. The dwarf threw his axes on to the group and muttered several curses as he took out a rather large tankard and filled it with ale. He looked to the group as they entered.
" So you four did it. You took down the giant, though the tactics were based on luck than in skill. Plan out your attacks to get the best possible result. Do not think a one man army can accomplish much. However, there is little good you can do inside the army right now. Fact is, you are needed to be outside the mass of soldiers until we reach the gnome capitol of IronBolt. There are two gnome scientists I want you to find and bring to me. They are friends, but are trapped by Torik in the outskirts of the city. They are the Grobnar Brothers and they know I am coming for them. Do not tell anyone you are leaving either. There is a spy in our midst and I know this because this is the Fourth Blasted attack in the week. I will work on the spy. I want you to ride to the town Knot and get the Grobnars out of there. Also This means a change in rank. You are no longer a soldier in the Legends of the Old World. You four are now my right hand. You are the first into battle and the last to leave. You are now The Myths. You Four are my elite and now you will get better. Now go. "

[Vale]

Clyvaan looked at his new 'Compatriots'. One was a Machinist, more a tinkerer than a fighter, a demon, unfit for even walking in the same scorching sun as the two paladins.

He supposed, that he couldn't opt out of fighting alongside Veros. Both were 'Holy' Knights, but that again depended upon your definition of holiness. For Clyvaan needed no words, he didn't need to fight for a 'god'. In his mind, gods were nothing more than ideas, and it is an idea which gives power. Karmaic Justice is the only absolute in this universe, or so Clyvaan adamantly believed.

Elves had fallen, specifically Whisperwind Forest--the Eternal Haven of the Elves was eradicated by Torik's Dark Magic, and Clyvaan used to think that such power was absolute. However, he was quick to change his mind about the monstrosity which was the Dark Magus.

"Dorik. I will leave tonight to make way for Knot." Clyvaan spoke as he began to sheathe his blade. "Unless these three cannot make haste." He spoke as he sternly eyed up his future partners in the Myths.


Regardless of how he felt, it seemed there was no way out of Dorik's Decision...perhaps it was something close via the comparison of absolution that Justice had.

Close anyways.