Legends of Lao- RP

[Echo Zel]

Rai danced on the battlefield, his sword a subtle blend of fatal hand movements, his sight flashed red with every twinkle of his silver blade, not many were left for him to fight now, Azriel stood beside him, beating some unfortunate inpurity from the world. Azriel stopped and looked at the ground, it lay a mass of silver, beauty at its finest in Rai's eyes, another victory for his reputation to thrive off. He smiled and shiethed his sword looking to his side at Azriel, who now stood in a relaxed stance cracking his neck, his gauntlets flooded with blood, Azriel looked back, no emotion stood on his face, just how Rai liked him,

"Another victory Vola?"

Azriel didnt reply, he never seemed to except in certain instances. Rai looked about at the other men, Alta and Ty stood nearby blades in their hands, panting they looked around too, no more enemy soldiers lay with even an ounce of breath in their bodies. Yet Rai noticed somthing strange, only 8 Lao could be seen, he frowned and checked each face and did a recount,

"Where is Tristen?" He barked at Bastien who stood several meters away,

"He fell sir, he fell" Bastiens face swam with sorrow and tears, he fell to his knees and raised the head of his friend, Tristens longsword was gripped tightly in his blood hands, a gash from chest to kneck showing, he coughed and choked up blood,

"F-for..." He muttered before his eyes closed and his muscles failed him, his head slumped like a pillow in Bastiens hands,

The rest of the group crowded round to show condolences, however Azriel stood aside, the same emotionless expression on his face, he simply watched the others as they mourned his, and their friend.

Rai turned to him and nodded,

"Onward, there are bound to be more of them before our walk is through, it appears we are not welcome in the land of Dendé." He roared and swept off brushing Azriels side as he did, he marched up a large hill and turned to watch the others remove Tristens necklace, Bastein held it in his palm, squeezed out a last tear and walked over to Izaak,

"Sir, the token" He choked placing it into his hand and following Rai up the hill, Azriel was the last to follow, he stood and staired at Tristen before allowing his feet to follow onwards to Argille.

[Hyzenthlay]

Azriel felt remorse, no doubt, but his own life had led him to almost fade away from physical emotion entirely, he lost faith in caring. Afterall, nobody truly cared if he was here or not. He thought before he turned away, 'If I were to die, I wouldnt want to be simply left in the mud as Tristen was' though thats surly what would happen. He knew they had no time to dig and bury, but show a little more respect, that couldnt hurt.

He walked up the hill, his arms hung loosly at his sides, following closely behind his own team, soon into the journey, just over th rise of the hill a forest spang into his vision, surly they must head for there, with their numbers the forest would be an advantage, but no, instead Rai turned away left and looked across a meadow, through the middle ran a river that fed several brooks and streams, beautiful it seemed after the conflict beforhand, but once again, apart from his heart feeling lighter, Azriel remained emotionless and cold-looking.

The others began to walk down the hill,

"Alta, rear." Muttered Azriel, Alta obeyed and stood at the rear as lookout.

Azriel had never asked to be captain, his skill was his promotion, plus Rai seemed to like the fact that Azriel remained distant and cut off from conversation, it gave him an edge of coolness and a look of strength and power. He sighed and clicked his wrists, his arms still pumped full of adrenalin.

"We are nearing the border." Roared Rai from somwhere up ahead, but looking to the horizon Azriel saw all wasnt well and their crossing would not be a swift and easy one,

A thousand troops stong held in a line stood at the border, yet, they faced the other way, walking slowly, perhaps Dendé had mounted a counter attack? Azriel blinked and carried on walking, it was no bother, Azriel was accoustomed to accepting fate by now, he'd accepted death several times and each time it was denied of him.

[Govinda]

Alta walked along behind Azriel, tightening her bow and checking her quiver. It was a mindless task; although she knew she should've been looking around and behind checking for ambushes or movement, she needed something stronger to take the death of Tristan off of her mind. She was angry at herself for being worried about his death. She was meant to be a mercenary now; this was her life.

Alta slung her bow over her back, and looked ahead. There was a beautiful forest up front, a bastion of perfect greenery held in dappled sunlight. Then again, all that came to Alta's when she saw such beauty had nothing to do with the majesty of nature; it was something more along the lines of, 'Trees. I could get some arrows from there.'

Rai led the group away from the forest, and towards a river meadow. For a second Alta was caught offhand by its beauty; however, a second later she noticed the border, and the army of troops lined neatly along it. They were facing the wrong way.

Alta didn't stop to think why. She was no tactician, and did not allude to be one; she grabbed her bow, pinged it gently, and drew an arrow. If Rai wanted the first hit from a long distance, Alta's bow would provide just that.

[Magi of Worlds]

Exhaustion swept over Ty as he followed their daring leader. He was always behind his squad because h was the best fighter in it. And because nota single blow from an enemy could touch him. That was due to the enchanted bracers he wore. They doubled, maybe even tripled his speed. Making it easier for him to kill, and dodge more.

But, that wasn't the reason for Ty staying as rearguard today. Tristen was a good comrade and one of Ty's friends too. He could remember teaching Tristen sign language and how easy it was for the man to learn it to. He was the fastest to learn. And he was a decent fighter to boot.

Ty looked up as they crossed over the path and headed away from a nice meadow Ty could have used to further hone his skills. Instead they headed for the border. And there were guards there. Many guards, who were facing in the opposite direction. Ty pulled Soulshreddar from his back anticipating an attack.

[Fehrant]

The solid ground remained unchanged beneath her feet. Its natural aroma had been masked by a poignant odor akin to any battlefield--the presence of human blood. The omnipresent smell might have been something a soldier would get used to, yet Murasaki found it disagreeable regardless. Weaker, but still present, sweat was another flavor added to the already repugnant mixture that combined illustrated a single concept: death.

The wind slowly caressed her face, and played with her clothes. Her long bandana flapped wildly as it revealed the direction of the air current. It carried a slight tint of humidity, which probably meant rain was to be expected. Moreover, the embracing warm of the sun had left her skin long time ago. The bright sphere had probably been overlapped by a cluster of water-heavy clouds.

The noises on the battlefield talked about something completely different. From up close, moans and cries of the dying still resided. They would soon hush, vanishing into the eternal nothingness they had came from. Metal armors also clanked, with a clarity to her ears that would easily allow her to pinpoint any movement without visible effort. Casual conversations and formal battlefield reports, only from the survivors, reminded her that everyone was not wounded or in the process of demise.

On the distance, however, steps trod on the field in unison indicating the presence of a larger group. The faint fashion in which they echoed established a sense of distance that only she might be familiar with. As if to mock the survivors, they resounded farther away, only achieving a bigger gap between. Indeed, those with eyesight confirmed the group was strangely walking away from them.

Bodies of walking people who had not been taken by the death ripper moved close about. They all belonged to members of the various mercenary companies. Each had its own pattern, however similar they would appear to be. In particular, Murasaki listened closely to the already familiar burdened step of her company leader, Azriel Vola. He was a man shrouded in deep verbal silence, though his body spoke clearly to her heightened senses.

Anxiety weighted the already ominous atmosphere as everyone made their own mind about what the far away group was trying to pull off. Her thoughts remained clear as she focused on nothing more but the vivid sensations that surrounded her very being. The trance lasted for a moment, until she decided to snap out of it. She walked in the direction of her quiet, still leader, and stopped two steps away from him. She already felt the existence of his presence. Standing directly behind, Murasaki raised her hand towards his back. She felt tempted to place a hand there to better feel the noises of his heart, and get a better notion of his mental state. It was not unusual for Murasaki to do that, yet her hand stopped midway; now it wasn't the time. Her arm returned to her side, and she stood there, simply awaiting for her leader to indicate a course of action.