Wrath Of Khan - RPG

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Edge of the World, Skellbrieg

Towering at over a thousand feet in height, and boasting a thickness of three hundred feet, before the armed and militantly roused Khan Army stood the behemothic 'Edge of the World'. The absolute measure of structural omnipotence. A barrier that even the god-slaying power in the Hadera Tiger's fists could not demolish. And so, through the most practical means at their disposal, the army numbered in hundreds of thousands scaled the gargantuan wall with intensive laboriousness, their regressed scouts having selected a suitable target, one that will offer comical resistance to the impending Khanasian Invasion.

Beyond the mythologically glorified Edge of the World awaited an expansive fleet of ships and aquatic vessels, a collective soon to be accompanied by the allied forces of the Orc Juggernaut, Urgarox. Scaling over the colossal geographic mass that stood erect on the entirety of Skellbrieg's outer encompassment, the Khanasian horde, led by their ambitiously insatiable Haffajee, boarded their readied ships, governing themselves with the sole intention of conquering and ruthlessly imposing their will on the nation of Greece. Authoritatively asserting his dominance over his amassed army, Ambrosius' powerful, resolute voice began.

"Soldiers of Khan! Today we conquer, raid, and destroy everything in our path. Men, women, children. War does not discriminate! We do not come in the name of brotherhood, nor that of peace. We come in the name of Khan!", he growled, his thundering voice overpowering the gusty winds and crashing waves against the geophysical wall. "A name that turns fathers into sons, and brings giants to their knees! Let no soul escape, let no one be safe. We will not stop until the island, Zakynthos is ours. And until Olympus is mine". Harboring no fear of a world they have yet to set eyes on, have yet to understand, the Khan Army sets sail.

The Great East Tiger's traditional battle-cry leading them to the Greek island of Zakynthos in the Ionian Sea, "OOOOOOWWWWHHHHAAA!", his primal, unrelenting roar declared, parting the clouds above and shattering the sky.

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_Superstar_

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Zakynthos, the Greek Island.

Here Warren was again, wrapped up in affairs that didn't concern him. Why was did he feel compelled to help these people of some random planet? Maybe he was softer than he'd like to admit. That and the angel of luck offered to pay him a chest of this planet's gold if he followed through with this favor. The Outlaw, Warren's trust run down speedster of a freight space ship blasted over the ocean water, his piloting skills were more than enough to fly under the radar for such a savage army at their odds. Inside was his employer and his rag tag squad, the Champions of Peace. Their name was good intentions, the people in it? Not so much.

"Z, you better know what you're doing, this is YOUR operation after all..." Warren looked over to the co-pilot's seat where the angel was situated, handing him an ear comm and pointing to the odd, black eyed ape humanoid sitting in the back, glaring at the angel. "That..Is Enzo, he's an oracle you could say. By that I mean he sees things happening all the time, just ask him for updates with this comm if you need one, alright?" Warren reluctantly looked at the spaced out ape, which he just smiled and waved at the two. "They gather, like ants..Always with the gathering..." Was all he muttered while smiling, Warren chuckling nervously and focused on flying.

"I'm landing her away from the battle, no way I'm losing the Outlaw to a bunch of crazies from Earth.." The smuggler engaged the landing protocol and gently propped itself down in a small wheat field, the bay doors popping open at the bottom. "Ok, lets go get into trouble I guess." He mumbled and pulled out his trusty heavy blaster pistol.

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Zaniel

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#3  Edited By Zaniel

Inside the Outlaw

The Angel of Luck quietly sat, his angelic Longsword resting in-between his legs, nervously clutching the golden hilt of his trusty blade, he had never felt gladder to have it by his side. It had been months since he’d returned to his country…He was both pleased, and sad, having to return under these circumstances was not exactly favourable.

Turning his head and looking at his teammates who were supposed heroes…Heroes, he almost laughed. The word hero had taken on many meanings among the years; the heroes he knew were once warriors, Achilles and Hercules, not whatever this team were pretending to be.

Kenshin, the Last Samurai, had vanished, and left the imprudent angel at the helm of the ship and impromptu leader of the Champions of Peace. “Well, Warren,” The Fallen Olympian started, “we are going to defend the Greek Island of Zakynthos with a handful of heroes and try to defeat one of the largest collective of barbarians in existence…” He smirked, glancing back around at the rest of the team, knowing they were (hopefully) not scared at all. “What could possibly go wrong with that?” And quickly,the Outlaw had landed, and Zaniel had a single thought. Would this ship of heroes manage to stay afloat? Or fall…Crushed by his constant recklessness.

Zakynthos, the Greek Island

“Warren, get Enzo to locate the leaders of this invasion. From my time within their country I learnt a few things. One; they are ruthless, given a chance; they will spare you no mercy. Two; they value their leaders, even to the point of self-sacrifice, kill the head, defeat the body” A metaphorical statement.

“Three…They are seemingly primitive, use distance, trying to close the gap against these men is a sure way to lose your head. Only fight close up if you have a means to” He pat the hilt of his blade, “and four? Stay in contact.”

He nodded, handing them all ear-pieces that Warren had given to him. “I won’t order you all yet…I don’t know your abilities enough,” The angel shook his head, Damn Kenshin for vanishing, and then he looked back up. “You know yourselves well and your limits, we’re fighting an army of sword and battle-axe wielding barbarians,”

He smirked, “Atomikill and Natasha, I’d advise you both to go to the front line, I know you can take punishment” Looking at the rest of the team with shrewd eyes, “Eddy, MasterMouse, and anybody else who is able to fight fast, and hard, I want you to target any leaders or so called "super villains" who show up...I’m going for Ambrosis himself, if anybody wants to tag along…” He shrugged, “feel free, but he’s tough” Marching up to a hill, Zaniel could see the enemy approaching the little island with his enhanced vision, he glanced back at the team.

“If anybody is capable, try and set traps for once they land, thanks to Warren we got here first, so we have that advantage” Nodding, Zaniel stood at the foot of one of the great mountains covering the beach where he expected Ambrosis to land, waiting for the battle.

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MasterMouse

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#4  Edited By MasterMouse

Zakynthos, the Greek Island

The mouse was happy to step out of The Outlaw and into the little wheat field. Fresh air filled his mouse nose, he was excited for battle, anxious even, to get started. Surrounded by his friends and teammates, the mouse feared no opposition, no matter how mighty. Taking his communicator from Zaniel, he looked to the horizon, just barely making out the incoming fleet. Mistro could barely contain himself, he was shaking in anticipation.

The rodent did look like a bit of a nutcase, but ever since he had come back from the dead, killing gave him a feeling, like he was truly alive again.

"Z." A little grin crept across his mouse face as he followed Zaniel up a hill. "Odd request.You're strong, I'm light. Throw me to their fleet." Expecting some sort of hesitation, the mouse quickly followed up with "I'm durable enough to take the fall damage, and quick enough to get away if I land in a particularly tough spot."

With a nod, the angel of luck picked the mouse up, and in one swift movement, hurled him way up into the sky. "This is awesome!" Mistro screamed as he reached his flight climax just above some low-lying clouds.

The ground rushed towards him again, the fleet of ships was only a few hundred feet away. The mouse spread out his limbs to evenly distribute weight, and put his paws towards the ground. His little mouse frame crashed through the topdeck of a random ship like a cannon ball. Mistro's rapid descent did end there though, the bottom deck and hull remained undamaged.

"I caaamee in likee a wreeckingg baaaalll!" The mouse sang his lungs out as he poked his head up from the wood debris. Barbarians circled him, hesitating only a moment, confused by the fact that a four foot mouse had just crashed into their boat and sang.

"I don't suppose I get style points for the entrance?" Mistro questioned sarcastically, the barbarians growled and all lunged at him simultaneously. Being quick, tiny and a bit lucky, he dodged around a few attacks, then ran up the length of a single barbarian's sword, used the head of that barbarian as a jumping point, and leaped through the hole he made onto the top deck.

The mouse had bought himself just one moment of peace, he took a deep breath and looked at the size of the fleet.

"This'll be loads of fun."

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_Atomikill_

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Zakynthos, Greek Island

Atomikill stood on board the Outlaw, as he listened to Kenshin's instructions. This was going to be fun. As he heard what his job was, he turned to Natasha and cracked his neck. "Ok, Vampirella, lets kick some ass." He said as he looked down on the beach. Great, he got to fight the effin' pilgrims. What next? Sighing, he grabbed a large crate and pulled it out with one hand, dragging it through the sand as he muttered to himself. Positioning the box so it faced the coming armies, he pressed a few buttons and the sides to the box popped off as steam was released.

Bright lights turned on inside the box as the Destructrix armor emerged. "Don't want any sun damage." He grinned to Natasha as he got into the shining adamantium suit. Lights inside of it turned on as he whistled a bit, rather enjoying himself. It was a nice day in Greece. However, Atomikill wasn't happy about weather. He was happy about the thrill of battle.

Being raised in the ghetto of Gothic had taught Atomikill many things about going up against more people. First, to be armed. Feeling the machine gun armbands he added to his gauntlets, he mentally checked that off the list. Next, be big. Clunking the armor, he checked that off. Third, team up on one man at a time. Mentally focusing on one of the closer boats, he cracked his neck. Good to go. Getting in a bull-like fighting position, he ground his feet into the dirt as he prepared to fight medieval warriors.
Jesus, that's awful. Medieval warriors. Bet these guys can't take one blow from me.

Atomikill thought quietly to himself. He wondered if anyone else lived in Skellbrieg. He might have to visit. Airfare wouldn't be too bad. Probably skydive out of the plane once he got there, conquer the place. What to call it? Annihilation Nation? Nah, that was lame. Atomikku... That was atomic in Japanese. Eh, he would never know. He prepared a nuclear blast for the oncoming boat, and got ready for the time of his life.

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BloodDiamond

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"Zakynthos surface area roughly hundred fifty seven square miles. Population roughly fifty thousand. Not much has happened really sense the quakes in two thousand six. Seam nice enough saved Jews during WW2 so you know there's that. Sorry got bored looked it up a bit I won't bore you with more details." The vampire shutting up as she sipped blood from a crazy straw in a small water bottle. "Congrats surrogate Yoshi your first mission as fill in leader" her fist lightly thumping the angels shoulder. Having gone through an emotional hell she'd been kind of forcing the angel to be in the place of her missing best friend. Being dumped, killing her boy friend, becoming one of Ronins most hated citizen she'd been busy. And poor Z had to deal with her frequently, like a little sister he probably never wanted.

"No orders you say. So your asking me to be on the front line? What if I want to go home instead? Or relax on the beach? Just give orders Yoshi trusted you to do so." Her back talk unending as she took the communicator. "If I have to listen to any of you singing over this thing I might punch you." The team was the greatest band of wayward misfits she'd ever heard of. And she didn't think a single one of them likely lived up to the mold of the Justice Brigade or the Champion. Well that wasn't entirely true Luke's grandpa was on the Brigade but the ravenous raven tried not to dwell on thoughts of him.

"Vampirella is no where as cute as I." She remarked on the walk to the beach. She rather liked the wether and sights, this island didn't deserve a take over. She wasn't in her eyes a savior just a survivor, someone to take a stance on the front lines so non-survivors didn't have to."You got to watch that complexion right?" Ruby eyes looking to the armored associate mockingly. "Let's ensure no side gets a better kill count then us."

Bringing the P90 Msg to a easy rest keen eyes looked down the scope switching the weapon to singular fire. Variables considered as she began taking aim. And then she simply began to open fire, doing her best to snipe who she could before the fleet made it to the shore. "Don't get ahead of yourselves they may look from the stone ages but it's still a culture on a world that's had humans for like two hundred thousand years they can't be stupid." The remark was made more to herself but she did hope that the team listened to her and Z. Underestimating the enemy was a rookies mistake one the aspiring rag tag collective couldn't afford.

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Enz0

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Enzo sat in the Outlaw with a bit of a rock in his movement, just sitting there tapping his long nailed fingers. Those black orbs that were his eyes searched out in the world, reaching for visions of whom the angel seeks, and he would find them. "Heh, they call him the tiger. He calls himself the tiger..." Enzo grinned as he read the lips of this fearless leader amassing his army, which was impressive in it's number. "They arrive by sea in their wooden ships, they got alota dudes on those things...Thousands? Who cares." The seer flexed his scrawny arms and laughed. "He's big, bigger than any of you are..Tin can excluding. I'm guessing this guy deserves to be as cocky as he is just jumpin' an island with nothing but pecs and swords. Can't really tell much else at the moment, everyfing on this island is..Cloudy..Usually when alota death is about to happen.." Enzo laughed once more and propped his feet up on another free chair.

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EdwardWindsor

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#8  Edited By EdwardWindsor

Standing on the shoreline of Greece

Edward didnt like taking orders, he had left the military because of it. He only trusted to follow the orders of people he respected. The man whom had set his misson was not a man he respected, he had met him less than a aweek ago. Whilst the Armed angel wasnt especially unplesent he seemed arogant and that was the trait he hated most in leaders of men. Arogance is blinding and its ego clouds the minds and the battlefield. For now he put in his ear piece and went with the plan. But should this uneasy start snowball into something much worse the prince told himself he was ready to drop the orders and go with his heart. He was no rookie and no fool either, this was a fight like any countless others he had.

Walking away from the group Eddy called his long term allies over to him. "You guys have seen this play before. Invading force superior numbers individuals with equal to or more power than us all as individuals. Zaniel wishes to fight the head of this army himself. So we break the spine. Keep in contact, note your position when you can in case you need to call for backup and bust some heads. Good luck"

Edward looked out across the sea waiting for a sign. If his enemies came by air or sea. Hopefully by sea he throught thinking how best he could attempt to sink as many targets he could before they even set foot on the Greek sand. Remembering his mythology and the various naval battles that these waters must had seem before. Thinking at the back of his mind that if they came by air if there was anything he could actually do other than throw things.

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CellphoneGirl

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#9  Edited By CellphoneGirl

click. The noise that came from my phone with every photo I took. "THIS PLACE IS SO BEAUTIFUL!" I suppose it does make me look rather non serious that I'm taking pictures of everything as I wait for this hellish horde to try and rip me apart, but that doesn't mean I have to stand here bored as hell while I wait.

I could just imagine Cellular Dog skipping around in the water, but Eddy told me this mission would be like to dangerous for him. My Dog survived literally every invasion I dealt with from Skrulls all the way to Vampires. Greece is eh. Like, does no one get how cute it would be if my Dog's adorableness made an enemy paralyzed from all the cuteness!? That could totally work on me at least.

"You guys have seen this play before. Invading force superior numbers individuals with equal to or more power than us all as individuals. Zaniel wishes to fight the head of this army himself. So we break the spine. Keep in contact, note your position when you can in case you need to call for backup and bust some heads. Good luck"

Looking over to Eddy as I watch him wait makes me wonder how this battle will play out. Like, realistically. I'm capable of burning people to death so I'm personally not scared, but scared for the others. "Eddy, before we go into battle there is something I need to let you know. I've made a very important decision for my life. This is going to be the first battle I might ever live tweet."

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EdwardWindsor

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#10  Edited By EdwardWindsor

@cellphonegirl: "You dont need me to tell you to focus on the job at hand, I wont stop you from tweeting anything. But the work comes first. The enemy that is coming will be no joke. They want to lay waste to this country, level its cities destroy its culture and its people. Pictures come second ok."

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Urgarox

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"You hear tis wind, comrades?" Fractionally canted against the spar, sea encompassing the walloping, timbered bateau, chucked by waves and puissant oarsmans. Beached, ordnance sluggishly hauled into the sweltering sand. Efficacious cannons and their metallic ammunition, yet every vigorous man, from the offhand warrior to the murderous magician, every pair of hearkening ears hampered by the deadpan, thunderous voice reverberating throughout the amber sand and azure water beneath. "Tis a wind of change. Tis a wind of men and women who roamed the sea beyond the Great Wall. To conquer or not, that is Ambrosius' desire, not ours. Stay loyal to the rules, stay loyal to the Wolfmen."

Peerless, auriferous eyes ogle the forthcoming bloodshed. The placid zephyr buffeted his gargantuan stance, scrutinizing every general beneath his grasp, Urgarox, the Defiler, sneered and spritzed saliva over the Greek territory barbarously. "Once we assault, since we have been unveiled by this insane world, they will strike back. We might be Skellbrieg's last hope. Once thieves, murderers, assassins." Gullible, sparkling eyes fathom each soul, courteously listening to the speech quiescently. "Banished individuals..." Tristful memories gleam as the images of his monstrous father flaunt. "Now we are people's last hope. We are the heroes. We finally have our second chance. No pillaging, no unnecessary murder, just safeguard Skellbrieg." He snorts, mightily throbbing his elephantine wrist against the rubicund chest thrice. "If all those lives are not enough motivation, just watch as the person clashing at your side fights so you don't succumb, gifting you with life. Men who have wife and children. Fight for them! Fight for our brothers and sisters! Fight for freedom! Fight..." He pauses, elevating the brobdingnagian ax above his head. "...for Skellbrieg!"

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With an expectant gleam embellishing hazel eyes hungering for the carnage of war, and the fruits of conquest, the Great East Tiger remained focus, a stoic visage overtaking his stern, rough, copper-toned features. Alongside his leviathan fleet, Urgarox sailed, his gathered army of behemothic Orc Warriors prepared to break backs and eviscerate their morally righteous opposition. Pragmatically seeking to snuff the flames of war, the heroic collective struck first, an airborne rodent of alarming physical enormity crashing into one of the fleet's ships, drilling through the wooden vessel, tearing away at it's structural foundation, rendering it along with it's occupants, more susceptible to the threat of drowning. Casting a quick glance of casual insouciance, the warlord's attention returned to the island's shore.

Thousands upon thousands of his finest soldiers had come to do battle with the Greek islanders, one decimated ship was the least of his concerns. Yet the assaults accumulated. Single-fire high caliber gunshots individually picked several of the ship captains apart, leaving four to six of the fleet's constituent vessels sailing astray, crashing violently into emerging rocky formations. Still however, no counter was made against their adversary's aggressive response. Not yet. Not until an energetically roused blast of nuclear proportions threatened to consume a considerable portion of the approaching fleet. Nonchalantly casting a commanding glance to one of the five accompanying battle-mages under his subservience, Ambrosius' gaze returned to the populated shore, his mystically gifted crony quickly raising both hands, aiming his open palms forward.

Conjuring a layered, incandescent barrier of supernatural qualities around the targeted ship, their enemy's fulminant nuclear bombarded erupted against the ethereally summoned shield, cracking under the enormity of it's strength, though managing to dramatically lessen the sustained damage to the ship. With the wave of a specific, vermilion cloth, the Hadera Tiger's command was conveyed. Readying their bows and their javelins as they grew closer to the island, the Khan Army took aim, and fired. A hailstorm of thousands upon thousands of poison tipped arrows. The sharpness and penetration of their steel arrowheads supernaturally aggrandized by augmenting enchantments as the aerial missile bombardment sought to viciously pepper their opposition with an unrelenting blizzard of arrows and javelins, intent on flustering their opponents backwards and pushing them together into a more compact, tight formation, one that would worn down by the unending missile assault, and severely damaged.

And should they instead break apart to seek cover from the aerial storm, they would be rendered vulnerable to the tenacious charge of the Khan Army's lancers should their prospective arrival on the shore encounter success. Already his army had sustained casualties, and though his warrior's pride would never admit it, Ambrosius acknowledged one fact, the enemy was dangerous.

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Voodoo_Chief

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@ambrosius:

Da drums are loudest in the deep, dark, jungle...

"Za da leh, ah wahe, za da leh, hei!"

Skins strapped to bamboo husks, sounding like tribal thunder as the bonfires of war cackle at the center of the circular dance. They're all winding around, wearing ceremonial masks and chanting in that strange language that united all of Zulutar once upon a time. The grandchildren of the Titans, the Zduha, making ready for their voyage across the Edge.

Zolo Ashanabi, their chief, sat on a chair of bones and animal furs, hunched over in deep meditation.

"Za da leh, ah wahe, za da leh, hei!"

The storm in his peoples' blood invigorates his own. He reaches for the spear next to him and raises it high, darkening the moonlight with the shadow of their ancient gods. A primal roar of initiation, and the cacophony of jingling piercings and the glow of war paint simmers in the distance. They are ready.

His finest headhunters walk around him. They have a long journey, and only by virtue of this shamanistic ritual can they arrive at the side of the Khanasian fleet. Druids and monks emerge from the jungles, heads bowed and mohawks sharpened for the occasion of addressing their king. He signals them once, and they proceed with the haunting levitation spell. The armies of Zulutar are amassed, and they take flight, a ghostly procession of warriors from the unseen wilderness.

"Za da leh, ah wahe, za da leh, hei!"

And they're gone.

---

"Dis ain't nearly the amount o' regality one can find in da Orc zeppelins, but we can make it count!"

Zolo's voice reached the ears of the Haffajee as well as the Orc Urgarox, both of whom were already in the midst of battle.

"When ya gonna learn dat da Horde fights together?" he taunted from aboard his vessel, headhunters already emerging from the lower reaches, bows drawn, shields, maces and spears prepared for other forms of combat.

"Show dese Outsiders the power o' da Zduha! No one messes wit' da Horde! Lok'tar ogar!" Zolo's last statement, a crude rendition of the Orcish motto for 'victory or death' still ruled the hearts and souls of his battle-thirsty warriors.

The thunder of drums became a thunder of stomping feet, a wild charge of ruthless tribesmen enhanced by their shamans back home to do battle on even terms here against all manner of advanced technology. Here, they were masters of combat. Poisonous darts joined the Khan bombardment as the boats once influenced by magic were grounded and became both a barricade for encroaching Horde forces as well as fortresses where Zduha, Khan, and Orc troops could recover as well as utilize the primitive - but effective - Voodoo demolishers, cannons improvised by the apothecaries and shamans. Living weapons infused with the soul of a proud Zduha warrior, his rage kindled by the herbs and medicines of the witch doctors, capable of firing missiles that could match the ferocity of Orc tanks.

Tanks, which, curiously, started to make landfall by way of an amphibious path. Just off shore, and intermingled with the fleet of Urgarox, floated battleships flying the Horde flag as well as a familiar axe hovering just underneath it, a weapon that became visible all of a few seconds ago. The hooded figure responsible for this removed his cloak, and bore his green skin for the new world to see.

Warchief Rogash had come as well, never once thinking to miss a chance to see the future in progress.

"LOK'TAR OGAR, MY BROTHERS!" he bellowed for all the world to hear.

"VICTORY OR DEATH! FOR THE HORDE!"

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EdwardWindsor

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#15  Edited By EdwardWindsor

As the boats of the enemy came across the horizon Edward made his decision. There where many boats of various sizes the largest most likely the head of the fleet housing the head of the invaders army. The smaller ships his generals and the smallest simple carrier ships for the armed masses. The main focus of his attack would be the two forms of lesser ship leaving the largest to Zaniel and what ever plans the egotistical angel had.

Waiting till the boats advanced alittle further, the prince of power devised his strategy and was instantly setting out across the water to meet the enemy head on. The imergence of almost an entirley different fleet didnt stop the prince having already sethis plans in motion. His vast speed allowing the prince to shoot actoss the surface of the water creating a vast breaker of unsettled water in his wake, perhaps a minor problem to the forces who just beaced behind him. Charging towards the boats his first target one of the apperent generals ships a lager hulled vessel to the direct right of the largest of the fleet.

Swinging his right hand with every ounce of his strenght towards the wooden hull instantly sending a shower of splintered wood and salt water into the air. Continuing the assult peppering the hull with vast holes, tearing huge sections of the iron and wood structure of the vessel apart with his bare hands at frantic pace far beyond the realms of normal vision and comprehension.

His attention suddenly drawn by the dark as the sky suddenly blanketted out by a torrent of arrows Running back away from the apperently crippled rapidly sinking wreck of the ship. Edward focused his thoughts on the skies above thousands upon thousands of arrows overhead trying to wrap his abilties around them. The concentration required causing him to slow his relentless ship wreching pace, knowing his enemies would now see him in the midst of the great fleet, but his thoughts could not waver his mind envolping as many arrows as it could. Reach skywards and jolting them down towards the surface of the water, instantly diverting the path of primitive but deadly projectiles down on top of the beached forces at his back and the boats between himself and the shore, well short of the lines of allies on the sand.

Bringing one solitary arrow from his mental reach down to his waiting hand he briefly examined its barbedsteel head designed to tear at the flesh ifremoved a old fashioned and brutal design. Noticing an odd scent among the salty breeze of the sea Edward sniffed at the tip of the arrow the scent becomeing quite intense and nasuseating, some sort of toxin perhaps he thought.

Picking up his pace once more he moved towards another ship leaving yet more destruction in his wake shouting as he did so "Arrows maybe posioned, repeat posioned. Extreme caution"

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BloodDiamond

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Accurate singularly fire downed captains, triggered a few wrecks. It was nothing to the hostile force however. Thousands were coming a few dozen were nothing critical. She needed something to better dwindle forces down, conclusion the Gorgon's eye the generic trait inherited by her mother. Like the creature it was named after it transmuted matter into something else, in her case it was diamond. Normally she didn't use it against enemies it ruined the challenge of the fight. However in the given circumstance it seemed wise. Target a boat and it would sink leaving men to swim to the shore or other boats and if they couldn't they'd drown. She began to work her way outward intending to leave a large gap in the enemies ranks.

Of course the team simply didn't have the firepower to stop the landing. In classic proven technique spears and arrows began to rain down. One said javelin speared through Natasha's rib cage as an arrow burrowed into her shoulder and a second arrow to the knee. "Bet that's why Yoshi left for awhile" the vampire joked to herself as she pulled out the source of her wounds. Finishing her water bottle filled with blood she'd been drinking from she reached for the comm system. Her wounds would heal soon enough just as the enemy would land upon the shore soon. The poison wouldn't get to her thankfully.

"Killer, try and spread the fire and radiation out. Think of it like a wall along the coast." If he could make a barrier of it rather then a projectile then the arcane shields might faultier in saving vessels that crossed it. "Blair if you can clear the air a bit last thing we need is to be picked off by arrows." She took a moment to remember history lessons and battle strategies before she continued. "Team try and spread out more we do more they'll have to plus we don't got numbers to bunch up. But watch your flanks for Calvary and lancers." It wasn't anything new these were play book tried and true tactics. Which left Natasha only more curious as to who the enemy was and what tricks they'd use to make a proven tactic a deadly and original one.

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CellphoneGirl

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Just snuck onto a vessel while invisible #party

The live tweet session has begun. I really hope no one on this ship is following me on twitter cause damn did I just mess up badly. Bending light is probably the biggest advantage I have when it comes to attacks like this. I never knew I could make my phone invisible either, huh. Now maybe I should hurry up and destroy this before Eddy, Natasha, or someone else knocks the living hell out of this ship while I'm still on it.

My body flickers as it switches from the invisibility form to something more... colorful. A rainbow aroma of lights explode from my body. I like making an entrance. "Blair if you can clear the air a bit last thing we need is to be picked off by arrows." oh! I could do that! A swift arrow smacks my phone out of my hand, and causes it to shatter into like a millions pieces. So much for live tweeting this.

"Come on! That thing is literally from another Universe!" Giant pink angelic wings grow from my back, well not real wings that are colored weird. I could make constructs of light, and use sound to sort of move them? like, making my wings flap and such.

I soar high up into the sky as arrows and other types of weapons are launched towards me. My hands begin to warm up as a red color glows from them. A little bit of charging is needed as I patiently wait a few more seconds for another crazy wave of arrows to hit the sky.

They are launched. I watch the direction as to which the mass is headed. I send out a massive heat wave that should melt a majority of the arrows. "I wasn't able to get all of them, but that should of helped a lot." You'd think I'd be tired as hell after an attack like that, well, what is unlucky for them is that I'm constantly absorbing power.

Ow! What the hell hit me in the leg? I glance down to see an ax falling into the waters below. "OUUUUUUUUCH." Come on. Not even five minutes into the fight and I got hit by an ax. How can someone have that much good aim?

"Guys, get away from my line of view." I launch a sonic scream instantly destroying a couple of the vessels in seconds.

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AmazingAngel

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Nephilim 'Heaven Above Earth', Angel's Current Residence

"Air support..." He pauses for a few seconds "well technically not air support but you get the drift is moving in" Angel swiftly paces over to the humungous supercomputer housed in the even larger spiritual space station, typing in a plethora of complex commands he prepares Nephilim's greatest trick. He blows the dusk off of a series of old and crusty books, thumbing through the yellowy faded pages he can barely make out the hastily scribbled words, one missed pronunciation could spell disaster, luckily the glowing white crystal behemoth took it's sweet time moving from it's permanent home above New York city to Greece.

"Zaniel buddy, Nephilim's gonna be a while... y'know despite being made of light but what the hell do I know I didn't build it, well I kinda did. Anyway best of luck, I doubt you'll need it though." Angel thumbs his finger along a specific line of book marked 'The Mystic Art of Light and Dark', he presses one last button which transforms the bleaching white glow of the translucent supercomputer a mysterious purple, the 'Ethereal Superman' adopts an almost eastern european twinge to his voice as he begins the incantation. "Propterea benedixit te Deus, da mihi POTESTATEM, OSTENDE MIHI LUCIS ANGELUS CAELI!!" He began to wait patiently for the spell to take full effect, waltzing back to the command centre full of confidence in his ability after the successful spat of spell casting, he flips the switch on his communicator allowing for a conversation with the entire ground team. "Okay team for anyone missing me with all their hearts I will be touching down in T Minus ten minutes, also I've just blown the dust off of every spell book in my library and am feeling pretty full off myself, I'll be taking requests for the rest of the evening, remember go big or go home people, we ain't at no kids party." The hero meanders over to the observation deck and merely watches the spin of the earth, the turn of the clouds, anxious to stand in the storm.

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ShadowSwordmaster

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40,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean

Pyrrhus Hawkins was in the E22-StarFighter which he named Blue Hawk zooming towards Greece for a specific reason. He heard with the use of his high tech computer that was on the Blue Hawk that allow him to track different messages translate them in English in a certain area of his choice ,even planet sizes if he wanted too .There was a s pattern of sightings from radio transmissions of strange ships in the Mediterranean Sea that seemed to be heading towards somewhere in the western part of the sea.In his personal experience with old wooden warships from his days studying them that these is nothing like these at all from what he could tell.

If this strange fleet was hostile then he would have to stop it and hope that more people will join in with the defense. Pyrrhus had the Blue Hawk go in auto pilot so he track this fleet down in the Mediterranean Sea more and with the information he gathered they fleet could be heading towards Greece.Wondering about the exact reason behind this fleet Pyrrhus knew that earth had been though a lot of strange things that he learn about a week ago since he arrive back on this planet.

He made sure to check on the engines and weapon systems on the Blue Hawk.The twin laser cannon that was place on both wings were working and the engines both flight and hyperspace travel were working but he had only five out of the ten heat seeking rockets left .In his time in the Circle he had meet these kinda of moments before with something unknown going to another location but these incidents usually end up being hostile.

"Well I have bad feeling that who ever this fleet belongs there not here just to say hello." He said in the calm and a worried manner.He turned on the Alpha-12 helmet by clicking on a small device from behind his ear .When he did this the helmet materialize around his head.Then he turned off the auto pilot and personal took control of the Blue Hawk."Looks like it's time to say hello ." and with those words he increase the speed of the engines and started to make his way to Greece.

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Lea_Drago

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The sun blistered in the sky above the incursion. The only saving grace was the cool breeze of the sea air, wafting across the deck and providing some relief to what would have otherwise been stifling conditions.

The innumerable vessels carrying their forces were making steady progress, but that progress was not met without its fair share of resistance. The fighters of this realm were valiant, quick, and powerful, seemingly without visible enchantments or tattoos.

The ship of the honored Lea Drago was positioned towards the center of the forces, allowing a neat and useful vantage point of all others. The lieutenant to the esteemed Ambrosius, Lea Drago was a force to be reckoned with all by herself.

The silverspun hair of the Drago legacy gleamed in the sunlight as she trekked across the decks of her vessel. There was a cacophonous clamor of war sounding in the air, the distinct creaks, clashes and other myriad noises an accompanying orchestra to the symphony of war.

A small special force was gathered on deck, observing the clash of titans that was beginning to unfold. The four men and one woman, all with particular strengths and abilities, would be an incursion force, storming the shore and slipping away into the ranks of the enemies, into their lands. Their goals were to scout ahead, and to take down forces from the inside when at all possible.

Each combatant was perfectly capable of taking on thirty of Khan’s best, brightest and most deadly singlehandedly and without use of their powers, combined together in a perfect tactical assault squad, they would be able to potentially lay waste to entire opposing armies.

Unnaturally hued eyes coasted over the water, coldly and calculatingly taking in the sinking ships, soaking in the immense power of those who had come to stop their invasion. Bigger guns were called for.

Raising one finger, Lea gestured to one of the archers on her ship, who in turn sent the signal. On the count of three, archers across all the ships lifted their bows and let one arrow apiece fly loose. Enchanted with particular engravings, one loose in the air, the arrows transformed.

Fire flamed through the sky, enchantment-laden in nature, with a heat that could burn through the sturdiest of metals available in Khan. A network formed from arrow to arrow, creating a netting effect, making it incredibly difficult to avoid the fiery ire of the otherwise mundane weapons. Once they reached ground, they would be nothing more than a comparably harmless arrow, no fire, no poison, just the sturdy arrowhead.

It was a tactic that had worked fantastically for their forces in combat before, but here, Lea had no false illusions about how hard the coming fight would be. This tactic was employed as a delaying tactic, more than anything. Distract their foes long enough to allow ships to ground, and give them a land advantage as opposed to their currently tenuous hold over the sea.

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Zaniel

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#21  Edited By Zaniel

The Angel of Luck watched the ensuing battle with a clear mind midst the carnage that continued to grow and grow, his golden eyes surveying the bloodshed which had seeped through the beautiful island of Greece on all sides, to his left, Natasha and Atomikill valiantly suppressing the enemy and to his front an ominous progression of the gigantic navy. Zaniel had been through enough wars, and although bravery and gallantry where vaunted traits, to throw himself into battle at this moment would be truly thoughtless.

So he stood, his palm clutching the white hilt of his angelic blade as he awaited his move in this dangerous game of chess. "Hm.." The imprudent angelthought, slowly looking to the ground as an uncanny darkness stole the sun away, looking up, and to his dismay, a shower of death dealing arrows, some flaming, and others poisoned, grew closer and closer, hurtling to the ground at tremendous speeds and threatening to not only kill him, but his entire team.

Without a word, the angel raised his forearms to shield his face, swiftly engaging his inborn Intangibility to avoid the hailstorm...Yet there was no need, the arrows directly falling towards his direction were seemingly swat out of the sky with an unnatural gust of powerful air...By...By who? Turning, the angel creased his brow at a mysterious woman. Thankfully offering her a succinct nod of gratitude, his attention was diverted to the arrival of a secondary force who had managed to survive his teams initial assaults. However, the angel did not step down from his vantage point and instead, he simply observed, awaiting the most opportune moment to strike, his teammates could handle the fodder.

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deactivated-6032369091872

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A stern countenance festooned the Hadera Tiger's rugged, resolute features, the auroral hue of sharp, hazel eyes reflecting the various geographical features greeting them as the fleet approached the shore with aggressive intent. Quiescence characterized Ambrosius' disposition. No word had been uttered since the primal roar of his sky-shattering war-cry. The gelid, ocean breeze brushed gently against the herculean sculpt of his battle-tested, tattooed frame as thoughts of tactical incentive flooded his mind. Soon they would land, their numerical strength ensured their ability to plow through the civilization's armed population like an unstoppable juggernaut. And with the luxury of the readied warhorses within each ship, his army's preferred strategic approach would face no tactical mitigation.

Unfortunately, the Khan Army's bombarding missile counter had found it's offensive potency impaired. The combined heroics of their extraordinary opposition succeeded in the eradication of a majority of the aerial storm of arrows, while subsequent counter-assaults saw a noticeable portion of the Haffajee's fleet plummet into the aquatic depths. Still refusing to recklessly engage the enemy, the Khan Tiger waited, his patience being tested by his rousing desire to spill enemy blood, yet maintained by his intimate understanding of the science behind warfare. A general in the middle of battle has no intelligence or capability to order any movement. Deliberately placing himself in the center of battle without preparation would force him into a position where committing his army's entire force from the beginning would be the only alternative.

Ambrosius was no such general. He was a military commander of rarely witnessed prowess. Troops who have yet to engage the enemy are easier to command than those already immersed in combat. His forces had already suffered considerable damage, he would have to nullify the opposition's ability to attack. With his fleet's ingress on the shores announced by a chaotic storm of bloodthirsty battle-cries, Ambrosius, with a quick wave of an onyx flag, instructed them to use employ the 'Pincer Movement'. His enemies had spread out and broken formation just as anticipated, it would render them more vulnerable to the coming assault as they had no means of cohesive defense as a unit. Tenaciously, his least effective infantry was placed in the center of the line while his strongest units were placed on the line's outside.

Facing the enemy squadron from the front, and to a degree, from both flanks, the Khan Army commenced their attempted encirclement from a distance. Should the enemy charge forward with the intent of pushing back the weaker midsection of the line, the Khan outside infantry would seek to push back the enemy's outside-section of the line, allowing their opposition to enter into the center of Ambrosius' forces, encircling them in a half-moon shape should success be found. Instructing his army of bow-wielding horsemen to subsequently close the backside of the moon-shape, the Great East Tiger proceeded with one simple command. For his encircling soldiers to unleash a long-ranged barrage of steel arrows and spears at their opponents from all sides. Should they attempt to spread out, they may succeed but render themselves more vulnerable to the missile assault.

Though should they recognize that with no discernible escape routes, they should opt for a compact defensive formation, his soldiers would continue, hoping to wear them down with an unrelenting assault, one designed to force his enemies into a purely reactive state, so that eventually, they will react incorrectly and embrace the hand of death. Against the superhuman might of such an impeccable collective however, this would not be possible. And so, Ambrosius would distract them. Surrounded by the troops who have yet to engage, his reserves, he cast a quick glance in his trusted general's direction, Lea. "They are in your command now, General Lea". Casting a subsequent glance in Rogash's direction, gesturing that he accompany him, Ambrosius summoned the meteoric power residing within his legs, and vaulted himself into the air, plummeting his frame towards Zakynthos' infrastructural hub, his spontaneous transposition certain to draw his adversaries' attention away from his army, and towards him.

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_Atomikill_

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The arrows felt like dull vibrations on Atomikill's sleek, adamantium suit. Eyes glowing, he nodded toward the enemy ships, as if he'd be seen.

"Magic, impressive. Arrows, slightly more advanced than the average ones. Modern." He nodded to himself, admiring the Khan's craftsmanship. Bending down, he picked up one of the poison tipped arrows, putting it into a small crack in his armor, for storage.

Now, he glared at the ships coming toward them, orange eyes flaring as atomic radiation started leaking out of his hands. On the inside, Tommy was simply focusing his radiation to emit through his hands. Not that much, for the walking nuclear reactor- enough to certainly give a man cancer if they were within five feet, though. Certainly enough to burn through the human foot.

Grunting, Atomikill slammed his hands into the sand, as waves of orange flooded out into the sea and the beach. Bright tangerine colors seemed to light up the beach. Something that could almost be seemed as a work of art, if there was a picture of it. Sorta like how pictures of volcanos look cool. Atomikill shook his head as he looked away from his own personal fireworks. "Y'all be careful. This place went nuclear." Grinning slightly, he got up, firing his machine guns at the Khanasians whilst running toward them. Completely ignoring the nuclear wasteland of a beach he had just made.

Now, the hard part. Taking down these motherf-ckers.

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BloodDiamond

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They'd soften those coming inbound to land upon the shores. Now however the opposition was touching the beach sands and tactics had to change. Numbers on the side of the barbarians there was little to be done defensively. A small collective of hero wannabes could be bested by a stifling cloud of arrows and spears. Her speed allowed her to dodge and hack through the barrage geared at herself. With the opposition she had to come up with a counter she'd been telling herself.

Her concentration was cut short however as a blanket fire reached along the skyline. Flaming arrows were launched and in time the embers fanned out until it was a mass which she couldn't escape. And while a vampire could take a fair amount of punishment incineration didn't fall into survivable criteria. Swift feet carried the ravenous raven across the sand. Darting in the enemies direction she unsheathed Chishio Tsuki making use of the Tsunami vampire sword technique to carve an opening for herself. A body count wasn't her intention however so while the move was brutal it didn't claim an impressive number. Much to her dismay however the arrows were but a diversion. They'd done the job well to Natasha had to reluctantly admit. Matters only got worse however for the vampire.

Maybe she'd just missed the warning, distracted by her own engagement. Maybe there was no heads up. Either way an area attack was made and the vampire had been in the blast radius. Target was the crescent of Khan forces starting to form on the beach. The shockwave of vibrant nuclear energy scorched the back of the teen, boiling and charring flesh. She'd been thrown backwards by the potent force rag-dolling into a street.

Cracking a dislocated elbow back into place as she got to her knees she spotted small shards of glass and drips of blood on the asphalt. She'd thought herself clever to always pack vials of blood, not even thirty minutes into the fray and that option was gone. Getting to her feet and finding her footing however she'd spotted a man moving through the air. She had no way of knowing if that man and those not far behind were of chief importance. She did know however that their trajectory likely included innocent lives. Bloodstone would go to save lives, so the daughter of the icon did just that. Rushing to hopefully intercept any escalating body count.

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Dragonfang_

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The calming sun glitters along the ocean, rippling waves casting a serene symphony. The splash along rock walls soothing and calm. The climbing tide brings sand up in naturally artistic patterns. The visage reflected into the shimmering steel of a claymore resting in the shore.

Against the blade resting head upon hilt is an ancient being. Forged into a warrior centuries ago in the first crusade she'd been stuck on this world sense. The number of fights waged by her as numerous as the sands she sat upon. Recently however the life of hers had swayed, promised the gates of Heaven if she served as a horsemen she'd finally been anointed. The Dragon of Conquest the Rider of Victory. She never had a purpose as a wandering soul or as a Vine Titan. A Horsemen though was fitting...but that to had seemed to fade into the sands. Just another grain in the sea of conflicts that was her life.

But where a conquest is the Rider dose appear. It's a strange thing, she has no way of knowing when it'll come. She almost never is bound to the fight at hand. Ever is she simply to be found when a conquest is underway. The biblical force of triumph, takes a final time to attempt to wash away the blood that stains her hands.

For before her In the shadow of the rocky walls is a carcass. Only one dragon was permitted the pair had decided. So they'd clash a fight that sounded like thunder the night before. In the end however Cessendra stood triumphant and her stallion passed on to whatever life awaits. The corpse of the dragon that had been with Cessendra for years laid fallen it's stench like brimstone and decaying meat. It was a test however and naturally Fang had to emerge the victor.

Blood uncleansible the Dragonborn stood planting the sword as big as her on her back. Silver mane flowed in the wind as orange serpentine eyes looked to the distant conflict. Beautiful in it's production for the rider it was just another grain.

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EdwardWindsor

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@shadowswordmaster@ambrosius@zaniel

Edward found himself suddenly torn. The beach was being seiged but the fleet just kept on coming. His allies could certainly use his assistance on the beach trying to stop the beacing swarms but every boat that remained afloat only added to that plight. Something had to be done. Hearing the sound of a heavy motor overhead a lone plane. Teraing at the hull of the nearest ship his mind reached out towards the pilot projecting a plee "My name is Edward Windsor, if your here to help fire of the larger ship aim low the ships crew arent the targets attack the boats." Alot of the fleet still having a long and difficult swim in there battle dress carrying their bulky primitive and savage weapons.

The futility of edwards endevor reveling itself to him. Zaniels attack on the head of the fleet was yet to be seen."This ends now" creating a tide as he ran the prince drew his sword and drove it full force into the hull of the flagship. Bursting through the creaking and splintering wood with a icy torrent of water at his back. Zipping between all that men that stood in his path thoose who stood their ground cut down before they could flinch or clattered by the force of water. "CLUNK" a heavy toothed blade hitting the prince firm in the side, blindsighted by an unseen agent of the enemy. Edwards side suddenly lighting up as the pain set in, his famous armour stopping the blades but the blunt force sending a shockwave rattling through the side of his ribs. His right hand jutting out in anger sending the armed man flying back like a leaf in the breeze crucnhing agaisnt the hull before the tide swollowed him.

Breaching on to the deck Edward instantly found himself deep in the den on the beast, surrounded by many men and a towering pressence he believed to be the man behind this act of war. "Remember pilot the hull, i am on board the boat. Aim low" his words etherial floating up skyward to his hopefully incoming support. The attentions of the crew where clearly on the prince now as he stood in their midst. The boats movement shifting as the water begain to take hold. Pointing his blade towards the apperent battle general Edward simply quipped "You"

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ShadowSwordmaster

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@edwardwindsor: @ambrosius:

The Blue Hawk just zoomed past Italy and getting much closer to Greece.When he got that much closer to Greece he got a some sightings of a fleet heading towards an island off of the coast which is strange place to start an invasion but it must have something that this invasion wants or needs.He was about to do a quick weapons and engines check when he heard some in his mind that cause him to looked around.

"My name is Edward Windsor, if you're here to help fire of the larger ship aim low the ships crew aren't the targets attack the boats."

Then the voice was gone from his mind like it was never there in the first place .Whoever this Edward Windsor was he needed help with repelling this invasion.He made the sure the double check weapons, engines , and anything else that he would need to come into this fight."Everything seems to be in order here who ever this guy was he knew that I was coming maybe there more people coming to help too if not well ." He was about to speak but then he saw the invasion first hand his eyes went wide open.There was already beachhead already or so he can tell from up in the air."Holy cow that is a big fleet!"

He switch on the targeting systems as fast as he could and a targeting screen showed up in front of him.He check in front for a larger ship that Edward was talking about .After a few seconds he spotted the ship that Windsor was talking .It was a big ship but from the angle that he is in right and now and the lasers that can cut steel like it was nothing should be able at least put a hole behind it making it sink.Activing the thrust to go super fast and started to descend far enough to shoot the back of the ship."Time to meet Davy Jones ." He was at the right angle to shoot the three burst of the steel cutting laser and when he did he pulled up from the attack run to go a but higher.

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Warboss

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#29  Edited By Warboss

@ambrosius:

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Tribelord. Warchief. Great Tiger.

The three-pronged assault of the Horde's finest could not be described as anything but awe-inspiring. Ambrosius commanded the seas, Zolo spearheaded the beach assault, and Rogash directed the armored companies and air support. Zeppelins sent away from Kahzor Kazaag long ago in conjunction with the Zduha reinforcements started to appear on the horizon, firing down the fortified Grecian positions with heavy cannons and black powder rifles. The regiments of Skulltrampler tanks powered up the sand dunes, paving the way for organized battalions of Orc warriors following close behind.

Rogue rockets and missiles would destroy one or two of these tanks, but that would only signal for the Orcs to scatter for cover while still maintaining a forward advance. Rifles were implemented on a larger scale than ever before, or what was preferable to the average hulking behemoth lurking in the warzone below. Still gripping hatchets and portable one-handed maces, the Orcs were eager to get into melee range.

Rogash caught sight of the Haffajee's gesture just as the Khanasian vaulted towards the beachside and, coincidentally, exactly where the Warchief wanted to go. He took a great flying leap, matching Ambrosius' titanic leg strength in a show that would surely draw attention away from the main attack force. The Orc kept a stoic silence around his political equal, raising a meaty finger towards the cliffs dominating one side of the landing zone, a plateau supporting various mortars and artillery pieces within large concrete bunkers. He knew Ambrosius would understand the plan, and he signaled for three zeppelins to begin a bombardment on this side of the battlefield. Merely suppressing fire, the barrage nonetheless deterred the gun emplacements from further harassing the ground forces.

Hoisting himself on one hand up onto the precipice of the imposing rock formation, Rogash removed Zuul from the loops on his back, flashing the unmatchable axe through the air so that Ambrosius could continue with his own personal agenda knowing his fellow Horde leader could handle himself.

Already shaken by the airborne assault, the Grecian soldiers gathered were hardly prepared for not only the Warchief, but also the grappling lines shot out from the zeppelins hovering above. Scores of Orc, Zduha, and Khan warriors ziplined down, chopping and hacking their way throughout the encampment, throwing bodies aside and never stopping for a single instant in time. With his weapon bloodied in pitched combat, Rogash raised the banner of the Horde as his vanguard turned the guns on the Grecians and began firing, the only sound heard above the thunderous barrage being:

"LOK'TAR OGAR! FOR THE HORDE!"

This strategically invaluable position had been won, just as the beach assault kept pushing onwards, losses piling up but ultimately not to the extent of defeating it. The ships from Zulutar kept levitating and rearranging themselves as to provide ample cover as the infantry pushed up the hillside, the Zduha Tribelord Zolo Ashanabi leading them.

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Madame_Blossom

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#30  Edited By Madame_Blossom

Greece was once a rich country, home to a world of myth and legacies that had help and shaped civilization. But in all their glory, Greece was a penchant to suffering and not even they remained untouched by fate's touch. With their economy collapsed, Greece was limited in what they could afford to sustain themselves. Problem would now prove more erratic as an invasion was already set in motion. Beyond the seas, a large and ambitious army was in pursuit of the mythic country. Heroes, led by the expelled angel of Zeus had gather to protect his home. But what was the witch's pursuit in this? Why is she here now in Greece? Question with no answer than simple good faith for the angel of course, but underneath it all there was more to the Eastern Enchantress than what her shown expression told.

Months of reforming and solitude gave her a new outlook on life. Cliche as it may sound, Fan was reborn, her spirit now cleanse of the darkness she once sought for comfort and power. Making amends with her past and accepting her life without her love, Ishin, she was determined to help those in need but even a gentle soul lies a darkness within, despite everything she acts to what she feel is right even if others saw them as wrong.Through the dream world the Eastern Enchantress caught sight of a vision that would impact the lives of magic, including hers. She saw her end along with many heroes, hoping to change such fate she saw one to lead them towards victory. But why would a banish angel of Zeus lead the defense against the ferocious incursion set for the land of gods and goddesses that had exile him in the beginning. The answer remained unknown but for now she had to partake in its defense.

The winds remained cold as it brushed against her fair skin, neither nature nor her power would be able to predict the final outcome of this battle. Greece's defenses had already initiated their invitation, aerial attacks collided with the sea, ships destroyed and the fate of its men left unknown but questionable death. Before Khan's army would suffer any more loses, an invisible barrier was formed to protect them. Impressive as someone or something would be strong enough to maintain such constant pressure and attack. One thing after another, projectiles had flown from the seas making way for land. Before they could touch the land dwellers Fan had reacted quick enough to deflect the massive on-coming arrows even if the heroes had already descended into the battle frontier. A sight so beautiful yet deadly, these arrows were many, so many that they united to form a penetrating wall of offence. "Fengbao." she uttered, softly and calmly and just in the nick of time to save many on land. With an x-shape swipe and movement from her arm, the witch had manifested sharp and deadly compress wind currents that took the sea by storm. Slicing and redirecting the shards of deadly arrows back onto the invading army defenses. Sadly the shield remained strong on the enemy's behalf, as the debris had touched the invisible force, translucent imagery showed the team of the invisible wall and somewhat of its perimeter.

Performing an exotic war dance, the grace and elegant moves which were performed in twirls and twist of her body and its part was ancient. Rising from the ground and into the air after the completion of her performance, the winds began to whistled and howl as lightning now danced and thunder shook the skies. The witch was calling forth a summoning of powerful elemental forces, a powerful feat that not many witches would dare replicate nor perform due to the strength and power needed to supple such spell. But the war flower was a gifted witch, a blooming cherry blossom to a blood line that remained ever so strong. Despite no longer having access to the condemned souls she once had months ago, the witch had opted for a more traditional route in practicing magic. One that relied on her ancestry and those who collectively were in her path.

"Wudao zhongshen."

Suddenly the sea began to mist with thick fog and flashes of light struck across the wet sea. A storm had brewed over Greece, what the witch was doing was cutting off any exit by sea and future reinforcement from aiding the invasion, if help was pursed or an escape, then the storm would wipe away any attempts. The dangerous elemental storm was a tale of its own, mimicking the legends of what Greece described as Poseidon's tempest.

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The Umbra Sorcerer

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He couldn’t believe they were flying to Greece, I mean we all know good god damn well that he could have just teleported everyone to this island but no we take the longer way, whatever. He was in a rather foul mood this morning and taking on an entire army was not appealing. Still people needed him and plus he planned to win that damn bet with Edward, as the ship landed to listen to bleeding instruction and instruction, took his ear piece and waited on the island. He could sense the large group of individuals just off shore, out of their line of sight.

Looking over towards the line of heroes he laughed a little inside, they didn’t look like a group of superheroes they looked like a mis-matched jumper knitted by a blind woman, different patterns everywhere mashed together haphazardly. Oh well it was better than nothing and besides they needed time to gel and a situation like this was just the perfect way to do it. Multiple of the new Champions attacked long distance while some like Edward charged forward at high speeds and the battle begun as a torrent of arrow and spears flew down upon them. Thankfully Edward’s telekinetic abilities blocked a majority of them, a few made it past the telekinetic shield but Michael was able to incinerate the five that flew his way annoyingly he didn’t hear Edward though his intercom due the ear splitting scream the bellowed for Blair’s mouth that deafened him. The sounds of battle had begun as the ships docked on land carrying the army of weaklings he could his teammates pass by him as they zipped past at high speeds all so eager for battle.

He’d have jumped straight into the fry himself but he sensed very powerful magic not only aboard the invading ships but it seemed to be across the entire battlefield, it was different mystical power though very different it felt odd and foreign. The young witch decided to act with better caution than he had in the past. He didn’t have the speed of Edward or the Vampire speed of his new team-mate so he was a few minutes behind regardless he pushed through the weaker hordes easily by telekinetically popping the blood vessels of the barbarians causing them to fall to the ground shrieking in agony they’d be fine-ish.

That’s when he felt it, these other magic practitioners were powerful enough but a spell was in play a powerful one he could taste it in the air. Using his com-link he began to speak “Everyone becar...ugh.” he was cut off, one of the armies foot shoulders caught him off guard and rammed into him with a mace so violently he was shot backwards several feet. Getting up from the cold stone beneath him he could feel the pain shot through his body he’d realised that his ribs were broken he had no way telling how many though. Quite near him was the Vampire that he had warned Blair about he could see her very clearly looking up she couldn’t have been more than a metre away.

The barbarians tried to take another swing while he was distracted and missed but he was livid and needed some healing before he could continue fighting in a moment of pure anger and hatred he rolled forward and pressed his lips on the solider. This was the witch’s darkest and most secret mystical ability. The barbarian tried to move back but was stuck and starting panicking. The young Champion had been slowly sucking the life from this poor soul, slowly the man’s face began to ages, wrinkles appeared, his hair grew white and started falling out in patches, his eyes lost their shimmer and his body declined gone were his muscles to be replaced by a frail old body with a tremendous cry he fell to the ground nothing but a skeleton with a light layer of skin on top. However his ribs were healed and that was all that mattered, rules were off during war time and hopefully nobody had seen what he’d done or how dark his magic was becoming.

He made his way back onto the beach this time flying above the hordes and took action his voice developed the very eternal nature it took when casting spells “Ignem circumdabunt nos.” within an instant a firestorm engulfed the beach separating the beach from the sea and allowing his team-mates a chance to thin out those already on the beach while actively stopping the ships from unloading more for the time being. His arms gracefully moved in circles as he commanded the inferno the flames grew high in the air at least four stories tall as a storm brewed across the sea. The heat within the circle intensified and from the outside it could be felt through the battlefield as if the gates of Hell itself and opened upon this beach. He hoped his team-mates would take the chance because he would not be able to keep this up indefinitely.

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@warboss: @shadowswordmaster: @edwardwindsor:

Issuing a quiescent nod of acknowledgement in the Orc Chief's direction, expressing a resolute faith in his blood-brother's ability to seize the battlefield by the throat, the Great East Tiger soon diverted his attention to the attacking duo intent on stifling his aggressive efforts. Before him stood a peculiarly garbed man, his scintillating sword pointed towards the fearless warlord. Ambrosius experienced no hesitance. He had been cut. Bruised. Broken. Torn in half. And yet his tenacity and biological inclination to recover from all injuries would never allow his mitigation in battle. With a taciturn cockiness, his footsteps closed the distance between him and the powerful Brit, heavy feet digging into the beach sand as he paused.

Boldly meeting his adversary's eyes with an unwavering resolve and predatory intention, the Great East Tiger's rough features remained relatively tame as his powerful voice began. "Come then islander, show me your warrior's pride", he goaded, both hands reaching for the supernaturally enchanted sickle-style Sayeef swords hanging from his waist, "That a low-class warrior such as yourself belongs in battle with an elite like me". Abruptly, with a flick of his foot, Ambrosius sought to kick a cluster of sand in his opponent's eyes, limiting visibility for a solitary second, hopefully enabling him to capitalize on the momentary distraction. Darting forward, the Hadera Tiger swung both blades in a blitzing arc towards his opponent's midsection, intent on graphically slashing through layers upon layers of tissue and bone. The virtually unbreakable and nigh-infinitely sharpened, curved edges of his weapon backed by his god-slaying power and speed enabled him to slice through nearly anything.

It was his speed however, his swift brand of nearly instantaneous reflexes that cultivated a ferocity celebrated only in legends. Immediately following his initial assault, Ambrosius accounted for a potential counter-attack and so athletically vaulted himself into the air, acrobatically tilting and turning his herculean frame in an aerial somersault or flip, landing dexterously behind his sword-wielding opponent. Again with his incredible speed, he executed a quick turn of the heel, imparting exceptional torque into his developing attacking, his left arm extending from the shoulder, positioning his Sayeef's curved edge outwards, aiming to violently slice through his adversary's neck with unadulterated power and speed. His right hand however, wielded the secondary Sayeef with defensive alertness, in anticipation of a counter-attack.

His attention however, was quickly drawn away form the ensued bout, instead shifting towards an airborne, mechanical man decimating his ships with a laser-based assault of unmitigated potency. Trusting in Lea's ability to control the situation, Ambrosius had unfortunately, in his distraction, rendered him vulnerable and exposed to whichever assault his opponent would execute.

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Crimson Eagle

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If there was one thing that wasn't different than home, it was the concept of an invasion. Back home there was an attempt to seize Russia and I failed to protect it. I'm not making the same mistake twice.

Ryan stood firm with his vision on the horizon. His Escrima Sticks were at hand and his eyes glared red. The Crimson Eagle awaited orders from this world's 'Champions.' In reality, the young hero had doubts over his new teammates. They had just formed as it seemed as if there was little chemistry between them, but then again Ryan only got to meet one member of the team since arriving on this Earth: Atomikill. With his good intentions, the hero knew he would be a team player, but the others he wasn't sure of.

Zaniel gave his orders and the group marched forward. Edward turned to the group of the other world, "You guys have seen this play before. Invading force superior numbers individuals with equal to or more power than us all as individuals. Zaniel wishes to fight the head of this army himself. So we break the spine. Keep in contact, note your position when you can in case you need to call for backup and bust some heads. Good luck"

Of all the people, Edward Windsor was the one to trust. Leader of the CoP of Ryan's world and that was where the Crimson Hero's respect stood. The armies had landed on the beach and the group had already ventured out to defend the land. The Crimson Eagle was among those who joined fight. With his weapon of choice he began to beat down upon the brutes. His eyes emitted a powerful concussive force that sent various soldiers across the war zone. Within minutes of the first battle, a dark cloud had emerged from the skies and seemed to be closing in on the field: arrows. As the speed of a bullet, Ryan's eyes changed from red to blue, having a large blue construct emerge surround him. The muffled sounds of arrows echoed within the shield. The warriors began to beat on the construct, trying to break through. "That's cute, " Ryan smiled.

The hero's eyes glowed blue as the construct surrounding him instantly expanded around him, knocking back the soldiers. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw what seemed to be Michael sucking the life out of his foe, literally. The hero who was known for being a "nice guy" suddenly turned dark. Ryan's memory. The Crimson Hero hoped his teammate wouldn't do something he would later regret.

"Ahhh!" The distraction was enough for an arrow to pierce the flesh of Eagle. His arm began to bleed out, "Damn!" He forced the arrow out but his wound started to feel numb. "Posion..."He gritted his teeth.

BAM!

In an instant, Ryan had received a blow across the face. The hero fell to the ground, his mouth bleeding. "C-crap." His vision was beginning to blur, but he couldn't give in, now was not the time. His eyes shifted back to red and he unleashed his visual force upon the barbarian who struck him. Slowly he got up and continued to fight, albeit dizzily. "This is gonna be hell for me..."

Punch to the throat, kick to the diaphragm. Ryan fought with the intention of making every shot count, but with every movement, he felt the poison riding through his veins. Each punch felt weaker, every kick seemed feeble by the second. "Damn."

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CellphoneGirl

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Before my eyes a war was beginning. A countless number of warriors sailed the waters below me. Itching to kill any of us without hesitation all depending on their orders. I feel a slight pounding in my head from the overload of sounds that are coming from literally every direction possible. It's good in a away, cause I can instantly recharge with any attack I send below me.

Wow.

I watch a female witch as she does her awesome magic that is executed flawlessly. The young Asian woman reminded me of two people I knew from my home world. She obviously wasn't either of them, but something about her draws me to stare at her as literally every movement that is expelled from her is handled gracefully.

I flinch.

I quickly gaze the areas around me to focus on the fight once more , and then he catches my eye. Michael. I've known him for a couple of years. Even before Twitter became a thing. I watch in horror as he drains the life out of an opponent. Him and I need to have a discussion over this darker form of magic twist he has gone deep in lately. From his hands a fiery explosion ignites.

and then I see Ryan. The Crimson Eagle. Totally one of the coolest Champions around.

I see a big @$$ barbarian giving his all to hurt my teammate. I descend from the skies to smack the hell out of the brute with my right angelic wing to catch his attention. I whip out a long streak of blue light that flows in the breeze. With a quick movement I have the blue string wrapped around the man's neck, and with a flick of my wrist I have him on the ground shortly passed out. The blue chain evaporates to reveal third degree burns around the tanks neck.

I swoop over to hold Crimson Eagle like the Angel of Death waiting for a human to say their last goodbyes, however, I wasn't going to let this happen to him. I've been apart of the Champions of Peace ever since they arose from the ashes of a few teams. My whole career I've seen my fair share of friends die.

Rays of light sparkled from my hands as I inched closer to inject my flames onto him. It didn't hurt him one bit as the heat surged through his body killing of the toxin from the arrow that is damaging his system. I take my hands off of him once the work is quickly done.

"You'll be totally fine in a few minutes. Last time I checked you were the Crimson Eagle. Soar higher than all of these other birds; they are beneath you". He totally owes me a cute duo selfie after this battle is over with.

Hmm I wonder what Edward is up to?

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BloodDiamond

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@warboss:

Back scorched and blistered from a nuclear fire, briefly coming close to the witch from another world these couldn't drive her an alternate course. Natasha had to help the defensive, that targeted bunker could help her maybe. She could angle fire support perhaps or conduct better extraction. It was under siege by orcs of all things. Towering brutes of rippling muscle and gross complexion. They were using blimps for air support.

Logic told her they had to be of a good hide, probably something like leather she imagined? Or maybe just scattered bits of armor light enough to not weigh it down but durable enough to take some hits? Moving to a construction site the vampire moved for a series of rods. The iron bars making good javelins, she'd break them to double their number. Her vampiric strength was pitiful only five tons, that backed by her speed however could lead to she imagined a good spear toss. A unique touch to be uncaningly skilled and masterful with what she held promised each throw to be of legendary skill. Over and over as swift as she could she targeted the blips seeking to breach the ballon like segments. Send them all crashing down and crushing those that rode.

Looking into the Orc ranks she looked for the chieftain. He was a bigger being then the rest. He had to be the one in command. At speeds that sent dust and rocks flying she raced towards the brute. No clever words or dramatic duel she told herself. If this thing was anything like the stories she enjoyed reading years ago he was a monstrosity on the field of war. Be just as brutal if not more so she'd told herself.

Intent on capitalizing on the cacophony of war to mask her approach, cannons booming guns barking and the roar of soldiers, she sought to get the drop on the brute. A crystal clear blade seaming to sever the spine at the hip and perhaps with inertia split the monster in two. She'd follow the blade with what looked like a slash for the throat. Using the as clear as glass nature of the blade and her speed however she sought to move so swiftly that the blade almost lost visibility. Swaying from its approach in attempt to not part jugular but instead spear through the fiends heart.

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Dragonfang_

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@crimson_eagle: @cellphonegirl:

Five foot three inches tall two of those inches added by armor she was likely hard to spot amongst brutish orcs and horse riding barbarians. Still she charged forward cumbersome claymore etching a line in the sand. It parted as simple as steel and as simple as flesh to her. She'd fought more battles then there were grains of sand. She was simply drawing a road towards the next battle. One that stured her timeless heart.

Many moons ago Fang was on a team with a girl of pink hair named Blair. They'd had a friendship of the classic opposites attract sort but the team had split. Seeing Blair though brought out the warriors pride. She had to showcase that she was still a knight to be revered for pride was the truest downfall of the timeless crusader. Locked under the mantle of the Horsemen of Conquest however her attack was not playful no friendly spar. Her swings would be out for blood.

The beautiful island, the display of power these didn't phase the ex Vine Titan. Fearless was she in her advance, a cough and a massive ball of fire large and hot enough to incinerate a car was directed at the man previously poisoned. Dragon fire being directed as the centuries old teen rushed forward. A roar bellowed from her mouth that rivaled that of the creature her alias was named after. A cryi out that could rattle a mountain.

Her small frame leaped upwards in a theatrical spin. Her heavy blade seeking to split the pixie clear in two. Close proximity of the near by eagle allowed the fall of the spin to seek to cleave his head from his shoulders. If she could she'd follow the move with a thrust meant to impale the woman she perceived to have once been a friend. Her blade was as sharp as it could be without being brittle, her armor as good as plate mail but light weight. And her eyes burned with a passion for conquest and testing herself that rivaled a dragons passion for gold.

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Crimson Eagle

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#37  Edited By Crimson Eagle

Every movement felt slower; Ryan began to feel the pain of the poison creep up to his neck. He tried beating on a soldier until his strength gave away. His hard punches turned to light taps. The soldier grinned at the feeble attempts of Eagle beating him down. Ryan began to breathe heavily, trying to get air into his lungs. The brute lifted his club in the air and smashed it against Ryan's face. He tumbled to the ground, his body slowly being paralyzed.

His eyes caught sight of the barbarian, going for the kill. So I die trying to protect another world? the hero thought, I want that on my tombstone... A flash of light. The brute fell. Ryan's body was numb to the bone, but he felt the sensation of someone holding him. Pink hair fell upon his eyes as a glow emerged on his wound. CellPhoneGirl; trusted ally and Champion of peace. The glow she gave out seemed to kill the toxins within his body. The hero's paralyzed body began to feel alleviated once more. His muscles began to move a bit, good to know there wasn't serious damage; he owed her one.

Within seconds, a massive fire was headed in their direction. Ryan's eyes shifted to blue and had a shield surround both heroes. The flames surrounded the sphere created by the Crimson Hero, but the intensity of the flame had strained the eyes of Eagle. Veins had emerged around the sclera of the hero. Suddenly a woman appeared, she aimed for CPG with her weapon, but the construct had absorbed the impact. Ryan was weak; although it absorbed the impact, the shield was breached. Ryan's eye began to bleed a bit. His muscles were still recuperating, he only had his eyes. Again his eyes changed color and had emitted a red blast toward the young warrior. He hoped it would give time for his body to recover and for Blair to add onto what he had done.

Ryan smiled at his teammate. "We're even."

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Lea_Drago

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It was a blitzing madness of unprecedented calamitous action. It was war unlike any from Khan had seen before. It was glorious, it was challenging, and it was all that Lea Drago, the lauded Dragon of War, had ever wanted.

There were five hundred things going on at once, all requiring the attention and counteracting of the acting leader. Having taken command of the forces from her vantage position on her ship with the departure of Ambrosius, the tactical mind of Lea was going a million miles a minute.

The Orc forces stormed the beach, gaining ground as Khanasian soldiers mixed in with them, using advance arrivals to spread out and filter into the surrounding areas. There were valiant efforts to stop them, but these specific advance groups were trained for speed and stealth, and would slip into other geographical areas of the country, performing reconaissance and other scouting objectives.

They had arrived in the nick of time, as the combined forces of the Orcs continued along, a glowing tangerine light lit the beach, infecting the sand and the air itself. But still they soldiered on. As Greek troops clashed against the Khanasians, the more primitive and barbaric warriors quickly adapted. While still utilizing their own weapons, they intuitively picked up the modern day machine guns and began seamlessly blending it into their combat methods as they pushed forward with the advance.

Clouds above roiled and turned, a sudden grey fog rolling in as lightning and thunder crackled through the sky. It was the most ominous of weather conditions, the low rumble appearing almost as a portent of doom.

The waves of the ocean roiled and rolled as ships began sinking, falling victim to the ruthless and effective assault at the hands of numerous members of this heroic force that had shown up to counteract them. It was something that the residents of Khan had never paid witness to, but not something that they were entirely unprepared for.

Almost as soon as the beach was claimed, the actions were countered as a brutal wall of fire rampaged across the sands. Substantial numbers were lost, as others were barred from making ground.

Lea’s first order of business was an attempt to take down the aircraft that was currently cutting through her forces like a hot knife through butter. Seven ships had already fallen beneath its might, cleaved cleanly in two. The battle mage present beside her, a special class of Khanasian warrior that had the ability to mindlink with others of its ilk via mystical means, silently spread her order.

Three of the ships rolled out primitive in comparison, yet powerful firing weapons. Called ‘Dragon’s Breath’, they were capable of creating almost an ignition of the air itself, and streamlining their output. It was a fire that burned amazingly hot, and with an unnatural fury and longevity. The three ships set their weapons in a triangle pattern, the aircraft that was cutting through ships. There was a slight almost mechanical whir prior to the weapons activating and the ruthless fire being aimed at the perpetrator.

The soldiers who had fallen into the water were either being picked up by ships as they passed, or sinking into the oblivion of the cool water, the sad price of war.

Lea’s eyes drifted, momentarily capturing sight of Ambrosius in all his combative glory as he took on those who would dare oppose them. There was a solidarity between the men, a morale, as they were provided with assistance from additional air and ground forces at the command of their brethren.

She signaled subtly to the battle-mage who stood beside her, and he sent her a questioning look, only to have it returned with a look of sheer confidence.

Calculated risk was the name of the game. Soldiers and boats were being picked off too quickly, it was putting them in a far too defensive stance, when they required the upper hand. It was an island, and once they held it, they would need to defend it from every angle. But if they were able to amass in the center, and bottleneck those who would come in, that would provide them with a tactically sound standpoint.

They had to make it there first, though.

The battle-mages, spread out among the ships to ensure their chances of survival, placed their palms together in a prayer-like motion. Their eyes went fully white as mystical shields were projected around the forces, providing them with a temporary protection, but enough time to gain ground and come closer to landfall.

She shot another look to the bronze-skinned man standing beside her. Lean in build, tall in height, he rarely spoke, but when he did it was with a deep voice, his words holding more weight for the rarity of them.

Special markings ran up and down his arms, markings that allowed him to control a gift he had been blessed with upon birth. His ability was to control water, and his specialization was the forming of constructs. It was why he had been chosen to accompany on this assault, for the tactical advantage that he would provide.

The hindrance of his power was that he could only do so much at any given time before buckling under the weight of exhaustion. Lea was utilizing Leonid as an effort to buy time and allow the rest of their forces to make landfall.

Sheets of water raised from the ocean quickly, all maintaining a solid shape, taking the appearance of what could be described as as a solid sheet of thickened water, with the same concentration as cement and extreme force, its intent was to at the least momentarily stun those in the air, but the aim was to knock them out of the sky permanently. Keep it a ground game and allow the Khanasian forces to do what it was that they did best - conquer.

On its descent, the waters surface spread, falling in the form of a light rain, doing its best to quell the raging fire along the beach.

All but five ships had made landfall at this point, their objective coming closer and closer to reach.

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EdwardWindsor

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@ambrosius:

The huge warlord jumped from his sinking vessel, Edwrad tracking him in the air leaving the sinking ship and the men aboard it to their fate. Meeting his opponent once again on the sand mere seconds later once again face to face sepperated by a few yards of greek beach. Sword and curved sword drawn the two circling waiting for the other to make a move. "Come on then islander..." marking the start of his opponents advance. A small cloud of sand coming towards the champion moving instantly to a clearer field of vision. Curved sword and sword clashing, the two fighters blades locked for a second as the strenght of the two meet for the first time drawing all momentum to a halt as neither gained ground.

Edwards opponets swinging a second curved sword at his center of mass Crunching aginst his armour sending a spitting trail of blood following the end of the swing as the blade just manged to break through his defences. A shallow but large slice opening across the champions chest causing his to move rapidly away darting unpredicatbly away as his opponent jumped into the air and continued his attack. His opponents second blade now thirsting for its first taste of Windsor blood cannoed toward his neck. The champions vision alerting him in due time and his mind taking action focusing on both hands of the great warrior. Multiple tons of pressure suddenly coming down on his opponents wrists just below the hand targeting the tendons turning his opponents hands back towards himself. What once was was most likely a heavy shot with a blade now becoming a glancing blow with the knuckle. Edwrad reeling as the hit crunched into the side of his neck armour causing him to blink as the pain shot through the side of his head.

Regaining his concentration almost instantaniously the Prince threw his blade over his opponents shoulder selling it to look like an attempt to hit him, missing narrowly before his mind once again took hold bringing the blade. The sword now apperaing to have a life of its own flying back towards him on his opponents blind side, aimed straight at its targets center mass. His mental attack unseen matched with a rapid dash reaching both his hands out and grabbing his opponent round the forearms, wrestling with the barbarian starring him in the eye as his blade shot rapidly back at his unknowing target with ruthless agression "Your not so tough." He mocked as the two struggled punctuating his statement with a venomous headbut from near point blank range as he sensed his blade about to strike.

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@edwardwindsor:

Though often reliant on the feverish pace of his accelerated regenerative abilities, the Great East Tiger harbored an unparalleled awareness over his immense physical power and durability. Though the defensive competence of his adversary was showcased, his attempted imposing of several tons of pressure on his supposedly vulnerable wrists offered little to no impairment for the tenacious warlord, his preternatural combination of unrelenting endurance and monstrous toughness affording him a rarely witnessed brand of superhuman durability. "Hm..", the Prince of Power's executed defensive maneuver had enabled Ambrosius to assess his adversary's physical strength, though he most certainly possessed other abilities, his opponent was far from his physical equal.

And Ambrosius would capitalize on this, on his superior strength and power, while still exercising the importance awarded by his blistering speed and explosiveness. It was however, only to be done following the noble idealist's assault. In a deliberate display of sub-par aiming, his enemy had hurled his blade several feet beyond the Great East Tiger, all but losing the Haffajee's attention. That was until, through the telekinetic machinations of his opponent, that the supernaturally aggrandized long-sword altered it's trajectory and graphically drive into Ambrosius' back, his blood spurting from the wound as the sword's scintillating blade drove further into his back, it's sharpened tip exiting from the other end, emerging from his superlatively sculpted abdominal muscles. Pain was no stranger to the Haffajee, he relished it, lived it, and conquered it.

This took nothing away from the severity of the attack, nor the agonizing sensations that it imparted within him, and if not for his hyper-accelerated healing factor, the Hadera Tiger's life would have withered, his soul snuffed. Blood gushed from his mouth, and despite his seemingly grim situation, Ambrosius' rugged, gruff features gave way to a toothy grin, one of hubris perhaps? It was difficult to discern. Perhaps it was one of defiance, or spitting on his adversary's odds in a physical bout. Needless to say, his opponent's ill-attempt at mockery drew only humor. imbued with a tactical mind, Ambrosius would proceed to capitalize on both the short distance, and his adversary's recklessness. As the Prince of Power's head lunged forward for a prospective headbutt, chin exposed and all, Ambrosius relinquished his right hand's hold over it's Sayeef's hilt, allowing it to stylistically drop into the weapons' restraints on the Great East Tiger's hips.

Instead, in a moment of blitzing reflexes, Ambrosius' right fist shot upwards in an ascending arc, his shifting hips imparting torque and energy into the strike as a thunderous uppercut of god-slaying power sought to blast his adversary's approaching chin with unrelenting ferocity and a brand of physical might that emasculates even the great Hercules' strength. Physically, Ambrosius had few equals. Independent of the uppercut's success, the Great East Tiger followed with a complimenting power punch. Darting forward with unmatched dynamism, he launched himself into the air with captivating athleticism, the airborne warlord's hips and torso rotating anti-clockwise as his rear shoulder thrusts forward, his closed rear hand blitzing forward from his chin, crossing his body as a fulminant Superman Punch erupts forward, intent on violently drilling his fist into the Prince of Power's chin with the power to put giants to sleep.

Quickly however, Ambrosius leaped backwards, pulling the sword from his body, breaths desperate for air escaping his frame as the gaping wound continued to bleed, yet soon, his hyperactive healing would compensate. For now however, he recuperates, unaware of the gargantuan disorder and disruption that his soul is soon to experience.

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ShadowSwordmaster

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This was getting worse by the minute, since his assault on the large the weather itself went thought changes like a sociopath. He couldn't believe that the type of battle that was going on here , it seemed like something out of a fantasy novel. While he was trying to get his plane in control , when out of the far right he a burst of fire out of nowhere and then another one to the left.The first thought that came to his mind is anti aircraft fire coming from the fleet down below, they have anti air craft guns on those ships who are these people, he wonder about the enemy fleet.

Then more and more came around. and he kept dodging each anti air fire the best he could.His training kick in from not only his time at the air force but also his time part of the Anti Xin Pirates Strike Force. He dodge one burst but then another one came up, he was trap but he needed a plan but those AA guns down had him trap.He had an idea on how to take them out but it seemed that there is a shielding around it from what he could see.The air battle that was going on was nothing more then a fly trying yo dodge a fly swatter from what he was standing.He could just leave the battlefield but there was something about this storm that would let him leave.

He turned on the radio system to open channel seeing if anybody is will to hear him."This the Void Hawk contacting the folks defending on beach I'm having some troubles with some sort of flak cannons coming from the fleet can you take them out for me, if you do that then I can give a lot of air support ." When he thought that he had second to breath he saw another of the burst of fire and took a fast hard left to dodge it.

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CellphoneGirl

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Swift.

With no hesitation he protected the both of us, which, is good cause my oblivious self would have probably got stabbed to death. Eh, I have no experience with blades. Not all heroes have to really. I'm fine blinding people and making them deaf. What good are you then if you can't see and hear? Is it bad that swords like, totally freak me out sometimes? I am in agony over a freaking paper cut. I don't even know how I am alive after that ax from earlier scratched me. This woman has got a lot of nerve trying to murder me so earlier on in a war.

The Crimson Eagle.

His eyes really are captivating. They way they do that color switch trick. Hopefully he doesn't think I'm creepy every time he catches eye contact with me. It's hard not to pull myself away. It is cute that he would attack our new rival like that. Cute in away saving my life kinda way. I then see the exhaustion from him as he sends his final attack. Then kinda giving me that look to make myself useful.

I extend my wings as I step ahead of Ryan. Six bolts of red light form from my hands as they spin in mid air. As they dance along with the wind steam ravels itself to escape the balls of heat. I aim for them to attack our opponent, whether they hit or miss her really depends on how good she is at dodging. Not like I could make tracker firebolts, which, would come in handy.

I'll give my all to protect my teammate as his body continues to heal itself. If our opponent dares sends another attack it's going to have to go through me first to get to him, luckily for Ryan when I get serious about my fights it's hell for the rival.

"You tried to murder the wrong Fairy, sweetie. If it hasn't happened before it won't happen now. My butter knife is sharper than your blade." Either this smack talk will be enough to distract her, or it will be really bad on my part.

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EdwardWindsor

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@ambrosius:

An explosive punch terrorizing Edwards jaw, exploding the bone under his skin the muscle and tendons barely holding the sagging structure to his face. The princes pain receptors going into overload as he flew back slamming hard into the beach. Rolling over and over as the momentum of the strike slowly burnt off from the friction of the sand. The prince struggled to get back to his feet his body slowly stitching back together but not fast enough. Calling his sword back to him with a gesture placing it back into his holster the princes body near beaten he had to result to using his other gifts to survive.

It was all he had left he had to try something drastic. Reaching out with all the telepathic energy he could muster zoning in on the great warriors mind, seiging it from every angle probing deeply into his consiousness targeting the movement center of his opponents mind. Repeatively and savagely assulting it with wave after wave of telepathic furry overloading his opponents mind with sheer force a megaton flurry of telepathic shock and awe pulverizing the taregt location with hte intend to shut his opponent down or at very least hinder his future movement drastically.

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deactivated-6032369091872

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@edwardwindsor:

Overtly dependent on his hyperactive regenerative abilities, the Great East Tiger rarely indulges in the execution of defensive fighting. After all, why would he? His ability to heal from virtually any physical wound with alarming rapidity has always afforded him a degree of flexibility, of freedom in the battlefield. This however, was more than a violent sword thrust through his midsection. The pain, the severity of the wound, it was no foreigner to the tenacious warlord. And the supposed impairment that afflicted so many that do battle, he shrugged off. Gradually, his wound began to heal, damaged tissue being repaired at an accelerated pace. Unfortunately, his greatest wound was not a physical one. The Prince of Power's sword hosted a variety of supernatural properties.

And through the vicious thrust, it achieved more than the vehement destruction of Ambrosius' abdominal region and lower back. "Hrm...", the Haffajee quietly gnarled, as if completely ignoring the evident success of his recently executed power punch. Disorder of the soul had overtaken him. Fragmenting his consciousness, separating them into the most prominent components of his personality, rendering him incapable of psychological consistency. And then.. the pain. The agony of having his soul tampered with overcame him, it paralyzed him. He refused to scream. Instead both eyes closed and his teeth gritted, his pride too powerful for him to release a cry of pain in his adversary's presence, in his army's presence, in his general's presence. And yet it seized him.

Forcing him onto both knees, his palms positioned against the sandy terrain, fingers digging in as he struggled. And then, the killing blow. Though awarded the fabled Haffajee Earrings worn by his predecessors, imbuing him with all of their knowledge and combat skills as well as a means of telepathic defense, there was no appeasing the Prince of Power's psionic assault. Like a juggernaut, a mass of psychic energy blitzed towards Ambrosius' mind, shattering every protective psionic layer erected by the earrings, and smashing into his mind, bombarding it into submission, and Ambrosius into unconsciousness. Fallen in the beach sand, today he was defeated, but tomorrow, his vengeance would not relent.

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EdwardWindsor

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#46  Edited By EdwardWindsor

@ambrosius:

Edward could feel the great warrior fight his vast strenght backed by an equally strong will, it took nearly everything Eddy had to stand with as much of himself flowing out into the mighty warriors mind. Will and mental assult holding their ground till a slight crack in the mental defences of the warrior burst open. Then sound of something shattering in the background barely registering as the rest of his opponents defences cumbled, and as quickly as the fight on the mental plane had begun it was over. The warrior clearly the greater pyshical specimen and the prince the cerebral superior thanks to his abilties.

Unable to speak, his jaw still all but useless and his chest only just starting to reseal the prince looked around himself. A little of his mental energy still within the great fallen warror as a fail safe. Pointing around at the warriors still in his sight the prince tapped himself on the chest and pointing back at the sea. An attempt to commuincate his continued will to fight on should the hoard of warrirors not take their leader and leave whilst they still had the option. He had not directly killed a man this day and he didnt want to have to unless he truely had to. Truth being told he was running on an adrenaline till he was fully healed.

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Dragonfang_

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@cellphonegirl: @crimson_eagle:

A barrier of azure beauty safe guarded the duo from the dragon fire. Blazing embers dancing harmlessly in the air until falling to the soil. An impressive technique but the induced bleeding showcased the reality of the situation. One of her foes was weak she'd capitalize on it, a counter was coming Cessendra needed to capitalize on her familiarity with one. A ruby flash struck the small rider in the chest, the impact immediately sending her backwards several feet. A black crater rested below her ribs, vermillion fluid seeping into the earth the stench of burning meat snaking into the air. Fang showed no sign of pain or recognition of her injuries.

What followed was Blair's own techniques the horsemen of conquest instantly moving away. Sand turned to glass as blinding spheres of light were evaded. "Oh please Blair you and I both know you don't play with knives."' For whatever the pixie didn't recognize her it seamed but Cess knew her.

"Vesho" a draconic word for shadow a arsenal of spears fabricated of darkness materialized. Their edged points aimed towards the woman she believed once a friend. It was actually an attempt however on forcing the Eyed one to act. To force his hand or eyes really to act, in effort to induce an even harder time on the senses.

Following the effort Victories Vixen charged in a obvious swing aimed for Blair was intended rather to carry through and drive into the eagle's neck. She'd follow with trying to leap onto the man's shoulders to kick off in a vicious vertical slash designed to cleave the light bringer into two. The move could function either way but momentum always helped. Cessendra would finish with a roll to the side opening soldiers up to a shot with arrows and spears.

Breathing though was getting short and slightly tedious. Bottom of her lung scorched black. Do to an inability to feel pain however she failed to realize the gravity of her own wound.