To Heir is Human XV - Playground, The fifteenth. Options

[Tellie]

Here's the new one.

Haldin, on horse.

Haldin, who had been riding on his horse the last few months, he ahd spent riding through Tamriel, stiffened, his finely attuned ears picking up sounds...sounds of battle, 'never a good thing', he tought. Without further ado, he spurred his steed forwards as fast as he could, what met him was more than he ahd expected.

A huge army of goblins, zombies and a number of different bandits were surrounding the imperial city, trying to extinguish a large fire that was in a breach in the wall. Hatred filled him, as he watched these wretched beings trying to destroy the city, and close to where the fire was, throwing frost spells at it was his aunt.

With a snarl of rage he unscheated his sword, before spurring his horse into a gallop straight towards his estranged aunt, 'she deserves no more than death'.

With a cry of death he slammed into the enemy ranks, throwing zombies left and right, spurring his steed ever on, he tried to manouver it so that he avoided running into his enemies and losing the momentum of his charge. His sword sang as it slashed left and right, severing heads and arms, spiling fountains of blood with every strike.

Righteous zeal overtook him as he slayed enemies in his path, his grizzled visage making more than one enemy recoil in fear, but he didn't have much time before they rallied, he was after all just one person. An arrow struck his shoulder, but he shrugged away the pain as he disemboweled a nord in steel armour, he was close to his aunt now..."DIE TRAITOR", he yelled, as he rode towards her.


OOC: I'm off.

[Lord Revan]

OCC: Yes, she did, ah well, simple mistake to correct.

Issac, helping Satyana out a bit.

He followed his love over to Flogir, greeting the commander with a kind nod.
While his magicka had not quite replenished itself, Issac had enough to spare some.

The Altmer focussed some of his energy into a fortify magicka spell and willingly donated it to Satyana.
"Work your magic, 'Tyana," He remarked lightly. Then he sat down on a nearby piece of debris and watched.

-Ian-

Undead hero and porphyric hemophilliac danced back and forth, one gaining ground before the other pushed back.

Ian found himself, oddly enough, challenged to gain any advantage and keep it against this experienced warrior.
The desecrated corpse was slightly stronger than him, but slower than the nimble and lighly armored vampire.

Then Ian suddenly remembered a fight nineteen years ago, at the gates of Kvatch.
In his mind's eye, the Dunmer was a mighty Dremora Markynaz.

The mindless zombie that intruded upon their duel was a devine blessing in disguise. In one flowing motion, Ian kicked the zombie in the direction of the Dunmer's thrust.
Half-decayed flesh easily parted as the katana drove home. Just like the leather shield so many years ago, the zombie's chest caught the sword rather nicely.

Wasting no time, the vampire knocked the zombie aside, and the Dunmer's blade with it. The moment of defenslessness was all it took.....