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Post by Miss Twix on Jun 22, 2009 14:20:37 GMT -5
<shivers> oh...man i dont think i ever got used to dat <and it's cold ;__; she didn't bring a jacket and she's wearing a skirt greaaaaat> armok...you're bleedin'...<dork she goes to heal him>
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 14:23:10 GMT -5
-He waves her off, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand- I'm fine. It is nothing, I promise. -His eyes are blazing- Let us find this Sanctus.
---
-Kukrix takes off his coat, offering it to Hawk- It will only get in my way -murmured-
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 14:23:34 GMT -5
AFR has a jacket already. B) <<... here... *he offers it to Hawk.* Remember... anything you can think of is just a hand's reach inside. He also went to see Armok to be alright. "Where the hell are we?... this is Italy?" He helped Armok up after Hawk was through.
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Post by Miss Twix on Jun 22, 2009 14:25:20 GMT -5
<oh lord lots of jackets she keeps stormcrow's only 'cause afr might actually have to use his> thanks guys...<looks around> mmk...let's get goin'...
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 14:29:06 GMT -5
AFR put his jacket back on. "Well can I at least make you a pair of pants?"
They headed into the tundra... the snow storm made it tough to see more then a few feet ahead.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 14:29:24 GMT -5
-Over the hill, tucked away against the side of the mountain, is the outer wall protecting the bunker where Sanctus and Lianne are held- Let us hunt- -Before he can finish, six men in gleaming white cloaks rise on top of the hill, on patrol. When they notice the companions, they pause, watching- ... Or let us be hunted. Do we talk now, or do we fight?
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Post by Miss Twix on Jun 22, 2009 14:32:36 GMT -5
i can try talkin' to them...maybe we can trick 'em?? <if it doesn't work then hawk'll take the pants 'cause she wont need a skirt>
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 14:38:12 GMT -5
-Kukrix scowls- They might be just and righteous, but it is the interior that is rotted and diseased. Their command chain is corrupt and warped.
---
-Armok nods- Then I guess we fight. -He narrows his eyes and charges forward, not even leaving imprints on the snow as he charges forward-
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 14:42:24 GMT -5
AFR trudged forward... not exactly in mind to disagree... they were here to do whatever it took... "Right behind you, bro... let's take Martin Luther's revolution up a notch." He was glad to be fighting along side him again... it felt so right.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 14:45:36 GMT -5
-The soldiers charged as well, two in the front lowering their halberds as if to stop cavalry. The others toss aside their polearms for swords- ... -Halfway there, Armok's mind goes blank. A void surrounds him... the cold fades, and he hears nothing. His vision fades as well, leaving only the six men. The blades in his hands become an extension of his soul. He charges straight past the first two, cutting the blades off of their halberds, shouldering them out of his way to get to the other four-
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 14:50:59 GMT -5
AFR tossed his ax to the two leading infantry. They caught the ax from both ends and AFR slid underneath. In a single motion he rose up and stabbed the one soldier on the left in the neck with a dagger before tossing the same dagger to the side of the one on the right. As he relinquished the ax AFR swiped it around to cut his adversary's head clean off. He smiled and moved forward.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 14:53:39 GMT -5
-Within minutes, AFR and himself have demolished all of the men in the patrol. He looks over at AFR, drenched in the blood of his enemies, and he grins- That was easy. -As they walk to the crest of the hill, they look down at the outer walls of the bunker... and at least a hundred enemy soldiers in the white cloaks, with more inside the wall- ... -Armok's face is a grim mask of determination-
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 22:36:43 GMT -5
AFR smirked. "They usually are for a bit... until we get to the big thing that throws one of us through a wall." He continued forward to the next eventual wave of things to kill.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 22:37:32 GMT -5
-Armok grinds the blades together, then charges down the hill towards the guards-
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 22:40:56 GMT -5
As AFR makes his first round up. The ax was flung like a javelin into the chest of a waiting guard... after dislodging the head from it's target he continued on and drew a fire arm before picking off a few guards in their way to the front gate.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 22:43:46 GMT -5
-Armok flip-kicks a guard in the face, snapping his neck. He blinks, realizing what he has done... and falls flat on his ass. He rolls to his feet, a faint flush on his face... and is back in the void. His blades move from attack to parry to riposte, not wasting time on elegance or beauty, using only simple styles made to kill-
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 22:48:29 GMT -5
AFR put the ax away and drew his second gun and went in in a hail of shells. People were just getting dropped to the left and the right of them as the guard at the door wised up and called forth for heavier armored grunts. "What an adequate turn of events... now we just might have to try." He cracked another lesser lackey in the face with his gun and then blew his head off the rest of the way.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 22:50:29 GMT -5
-Armok twists out of the way of a halberd, taking off the man's arm at the elbow. Before he can relax, however, one of the heavily armored grunts rushes at him, followed by many a-friend. He grins slightly... and charges forward. His swords slice across throats and inner elbows, slicing open vital arteries as he rushes forward- Can you keep up?
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Post by afr on Jun 22, 2009 22:53:20 GMT -5
He smirked. "Hey, I was born for this one... let's bring out some heavier arms..." He reached into his coat and pulled out a sawed off shot gun. With a cock of the rifle and a tune in the air he advanced and unloaded into the hoard before them. "I love infinite ammo..." He fired again cutting the crowd another body.
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Post by The Loathed on Jun 22, 2009 22:56:05 GMT -5
-Armok slams a sword through a gilded breastplate, then grabs the haft of a halberd thrust at him. He slings the halberd to the side, along with its owner. Before the first man can fall, he rips his blade from his chest, then kicks the man away- Guns. -contemptuously- -He roars, touching the bottoms of the blades together, and is suddenly holding a double-bladed jivatma. He has no idea how he did it, but is not complaining-
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