ORIGIN

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His path was straight, sure-fired and righteous. As Rue's fire dissipated, she would be faced with a pair of furious, beady red eyes and a face of armor, teeth, and spikes. He screamed a horrid pig-squeal scream of rage, pain, and victory. His hide was fire-scorched, raw and burnt but living and functional-more than he could say about THIS fiend, if he had his way.

His head was lowered, nearly to the ground, in perfect bulldozer form. Either Rue would get trampled by his hooves or tossed behind him. It didn't matter which- only the end result did- A homogeneous, pulverized mess. The closest the wretched beast would ever get to the purity of order.

@Rue

ORDER VS CHAOS

THE SIEGE

The clash of magicka on land and air, enormous bodies and slashing limbs, created an overarching atmosphere that could only be described as chaos. Mother continued to broadcast through her Hive: it was time to play to their strengths. It was time to act as ONE.

"Fall upon these," she instructed them, a roar in her mind, as images of The Sentinel and The Warden flared brightly from Orthus's mind to theirs. "Act as one. Protect your siblings. One at a time, we will remove this STAIN."

And they would begin with them.

The rest felt the sing of violence and triumph in their mostly bloodless veins. They were winning, undoubtedly: finally driving back these Oil-mawed monstrosities, who could do nothing but lash out with blind fury. Her encouragement screamed along the link: "YOU ARE WINNING. These caves will be OURS!"

The first two Praetors reached Orthus's side, a swift march of gnashing mandibles, aimed for The Warden and The Sentinel respectively. A failure to dodge could mean severe injury inflicted by mandibles, or at worst, a true death--GM tag for this to be described, if desired.

Anyone may join this thread at any time, for any reason. (If you join to pick flowers on the side, note you may be injured in the crossfire.)

Chaos/Order successful rolls will be added to the overall Order vs Chaos event tally. Other characters of any alignment are welcome to try and stop them. THIS IS A FREE-FOR-ALL BATTLE THREAD: a character who is attacked may post additionally to roll for defense against each attack, as well as posting once for their own single action. See the Order vs Chaos Master Thread for scoring and more information!

SCORE TALLY

165

221

round three

@Vargas (Sentinel, Nidhogg, etc.) @Alcina @Cain (Zoisite) @Rue @Draconua @Azrael (Glory, Warden, Asimona) @V-Hiddenite-One @Orthus (Mirac) @Juggernaut @V-Labradorite-One @Siren @Ace @Pickles @Scorn

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas spun, Alcina's eerily flower-like maw lunging down for him. He sensed it, saw it out of the corner of his eye--even as he saw the fireballs raining down toward him. A dropping sense of, yes, dread plummeted through his stomach as he realized: this was the idiot dragon's cave. The one that still held a bone to pick with him. CAIN! he roared, along that link--there was no time for gratitude as to its intel provided thus far, only the urgency of combat. The dragon--the black one! It must fight FOR us! He left Cain to determine the best way to do that--convince it, control it, whatever--because right now a couple tons of Drone was plummeting down at him teeth-first.

He brought his forearm up and around, plunging spines for Alcina--not to harm, but to prevent her maw closing around his body. Then he was cowering back, spinning to face her but hardly able to see as a fireball plunged around him.

A sharp, strangled roar of pain and outrage escaped him, the determinedly unpleasant sensation of burning, crackling skin searing through his flesh. It was not the first time.

With luck, it would not be the last.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas crabbed backwards, unable to press the attack on Alcina what with the flames licking across his flesh and through his vision. He'd been forced now on the defensive, and rather than some dramatic display of flaming tackle and fiery spines, he rolled back and came upright, head bowed and flesh smoking. He was ready to defend himself, to try and turn Alcina's next attack--if one came--against her.

And in the meantime he called upon his magic as urgently, as powerfully, as he could--to keep him in the fight; to mend some of the damage thus far done.

Nothing came--and he swore under his breath, wincing with every step backward.

The Praetor's approach didn't come unnoticed, and the Sentinel turned, barking out a warning for his spawn: "INSECTS."

The lunge of immense mandibles had him snapping up his halberd, the shadow-swathed black steel thrusting for its jaws in an attempt to catch the bite and throw the creature back.

It was enormous--its weight would have been immovable were it not for his momentum, and even then it took all his strength to push the lunge away.

He had to act quickly, he knew, or they would become insect-mulch in seconds.

The Sentinel turned, briefly tensing down, almost kneeling in the sand. He faced Orthus, and the Praetors, and--whether the Warden escaped his attack, or not--the Sentinel reached for his magic.

A black seeping line opened on the sand--but inches deep, a mere thread of corruption and not the rippling earthquake and consuming ravine he had hoped for. Sand poured to fill it immediately, leaving him exposed to attack; he hastened to try and push away before one came.

Around him he registered the roar of battle in all directions; the fireballs did not hit him, though a strange and creeping sense of illness did, slowly ticking through his flesh and leaving him uneasy. Something is wrong, he recognized--but he didn't quite know what.

Goaded on by Mother's prodding, Alcina roared in fury as her jaws were pushed away from Vargas's flesh. How pitiful she would not get to tear him asunder yet.

She is thankful though, for a warning whispered along the link, for the fire raining from above. She hissed as she leapt back, trying to weave between the flames.

Alcina's much more nimble at avoiding the flames than her combatant is, and she sees the perfect opportunity to press the advantage.

As she lands from her tango with the fire, she coils up like a spring, before leaping again, jaws yawning wide as she barrels into one of Vargas's forelimbs with all her strength.

@Vargas

The command that Master Vargas gave was one that gave no room for error. Cain was not a creature of diplomacy in the heat of battle-- an assassin, stealthy and unobtrusive in daily life-- in war, however, it was a killer.

If it had half a thought toward diplomacy, it might have tried for it. As it was, however, adrenaline and a need for immediate change made its decision instantly. Take control of the dragon and make it fight their foes.

The feline swiveled midair, changing trajectory to rise back up into the aerial battlefield, crimson eyes locking upon Dread. The dragon was laying magical siege to the battlefield, and the heat of the flames spoke to his strengths. It was a split second decision as it stared down its target, switching from the idea of using Dread as a blunt force to instead taking more exact control.

It would make Cain vulnerable.

It would piss off the dragon even more.

But just then, the Overseer's mind was on one thing: following it's directive.

As it pulled on its magic, there was a split second where the scents and sounds of Leo-- of blood and forest leaves-- struck it in the chest. The last time it had been here, staring down death in the eyes, and where its magic had only provoked. The scars on its wings ached and sent a spasm through its wing, and with a hiss it dipped and struggled for a moment to remain in flight. It shook the moment off as quick as it had come: its magic did not backfire, only its mind, and it was rising to meet Dread face first.

If magic did not work, then...

"The Forge is not your enemy!" Cain yowled through the chaos. "Master Vargas is here to defend the caves from the Hive, from Order, from becoming slaves!" It snarled, desperate, sweeping perhaps a touch too close to those sharp, deadly teeth in a bid to get Dread's attention. "Fight with us, and we will leave once Order is defeated! We're on the same side!!"

If nothing else, if it could gain some time... Make enough of a distraction to try again... It had to be damn dragons, the thought flickered through its mind, fur standing on end as it flew too close to the metaphorical sun.

@Dread

Viscera and gore came free with a sickening crunch of exoskeleton, filling the Zoisite's jaws with the taste of-- no. It wasn't blood. The Zoisite didn't know what it was, didn't care, the tasteless, odorless fluid spat out with a hiss as it turned, and lunged backward after the Hive monster with reckless abandon.

The false head, the tail, snapped for whatever it could reach, blindly and viciously clacking with hatred, and the Zoisite's limbs pushed it with all the strength it could muster to shove into the Juggernaut. It wanted to take the Hive drone down, to prevent it from attacking anyone and anything else.

Let the drone know what it means to be a worm.

That was the intention, anyway: the Zoisite was ultimately smaller than the drone tank, and for all its snapping and thrusting, it had only passing experience in a fight.

But it was trying, anyway, to divert the attention on to itself. If that was all it did, then it would be satisfied.

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SCORN

Game Master Dark

Vargas

Vargas

The Sentinel

The Sentinel

Alcina

Alcina

Cain

Zoey