StarCraft® II

Darkest Heart

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"Holding the line."
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I swing my gunblade a couple times before flipping it between modes a couple times and tapping the edge of my shield. "Just tell me where ya want me." I say with a mischievous grin.
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The Sergeant takes a moment to appraise Helen's weapons before sighing. "Depends on which one of those modes you're better with." He shakes his head and grumbles under his breath. "Least Helsing is more traditional..." He knew no one heard it, so he didn't worry.
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"I'm better with sword mode but I'm no push over with gun mode."
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"Then you and your friend with the bound demonic blade stay out front slightly."
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"Yes sir." I nod and head for the front.
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"Any ideas where I should be?" Noct inquires, his weapon morphing as it rested on his shoulder. "I've got something in vein of a flamethrower and a spear. Put me where you need me."

Solaris raises a hand and a few tesseracts floating about shatter into little slivers, whizzing around him like a cloud of angry bees. Minus the stinging, of course. "Shortsword and short range projectiles here."
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"Same with you two. Thinks like that work better out front than they do anywhere else." Ways Wanderers? Guess Helsing wasn't kidding.
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IC:
Kneeling down in front of the barricades, I look out towards the forest;
...an Alpha... this is going to be interesting...
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Hopping to a jog, Noct catches up with Helen. With an almost crazy smile, he passes by, taking a stance by the front of the barricade. With a grunt, he plants his spear into the ground and begins pawing at his left arm, shrouded by fabric. Solaris takes a quick glance at his brother.

"Something wrong?"

"Fabric fused with my arm. Itches like hell."

With a sigh, Solaris assists him in rolling it up, exposing a rather gnarled and inhuman arm, set with bright, venomous looking teal veins.
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I grab out my sniper rifle and stay in the relative back in the group, providing overwatch. "Always wanted a chance to try out this thing. But never a good opportunity...."
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The witch hunter bound lightly from tree branch to tree branch on his way out of the settlement. He made effortless jumps from distances that no normal man could even begin to hope to make, made perfect jumps that one would not expect a man with eyes to get correct, never mind a man without eyes.

One could only conclude that the figure jumping from branch to branch was not human... not entirely anyway. They would be right after a fashion. The witch had changed him to be a better hunter... or perhaps more correctly, a better assassin.

It had been her downfall, she had treated her creation poorly. Sure he had been well fed (no use making a strong creature if you weren't going to feed it so it stays strong) but the witch had used magics of the harshest kinds to keep him in line. She had seen it as no different than beating a dog to keep it obedient. There was another parallel to be drawn there. Some people beat their dogs then are shocked when the dog bites back one day... The day when the pain was not worth enduring, the day when it became to much to take lying down, the day... the day when it is decided that rebellion is worth the risk.

He had bitten back with all his supernatural strength. A strength supplemented by his anger, his pain, and his desire to be free. He had been strong before, but with all these emotions fueling his already great strength... giving it a drive, a focus that it had never had before. That bite had been the death of the witch. Today he could not remember if he had decided to kill the witch, or if he had merely lashed out to make the pain stop. It did not really matter. Either way, the witch was dead and he was not.

The witch hunter shook his head free of such thoughts. He should be running into a perimeter guard with orders to stop anyone coming out any moment now. Werewolf guards were not in the habit of letting things past them, so he would be ready for a fight.
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The witch hunter was right. From his left and right came rather large fireballs, their owners right behind them, ready to tear asunder the man who was trying to escape. At the entrance to the village, the howling picked up again and soon the werewolves were flooding at the gate again. "Light 'em up!" The militia opens fire and the Thor and Tanks tear through large groups of them. In the background, a large shadowed form could be seen, the Alpha. It remained from immediate sight, waiting for the right moment.
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The ashes of the werewolves that could spew out fire from their mouth or from their hands, littered the clearing it seemed. Some of it getting near Graal's eyes as he wiped it away with his fingers. Noticing one of the other hunters... So far he killed a few, these ones seemed different though from that one in the warehouse... those were weaker, more inferior. The hunter beside of him had a sniper rifle. "Come on, let's see if we can get a view over the clearing."
Edited by CrymsonRaven on 3/26/2013 3:17 PM PDT
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As if to prove Graal wrong, a Beta leaped over the line of militia men, landing in front of him and slowly standing up, growling.
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IC: As the Beta rushes up near Graal, i swiftly swing my sniper rifle over at the Beta, putting it in point blank range, and fire straight at its eye, a silver .50 cal bullet.
Edited by Lumamaster on 3/26/2013 3:24 PM PDT
Posts: 17,882
He said the few that he's faced. XD

IC: Graal's rifle held twenty shots... He switched the mode to full auto in a flash and quickly drew his breath as the trigger was pulled. Bullet after bullet hitting the Beta in the chest and in the head. The magazine fell out as he quickly put a new one in and fired... *Click click* It was jammed. "Damn it all!"
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As the bullet hits the Beta's eye, it goes through into the Beta's brain and lodges itself there in the center. "How do you like a giant silver bullet in your brain...."
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The bullets all melted into harmless slag before they reached it and the pair found themselves lifted into the air by the throat, struggling to breath. After taking a moment to smell them, it growls. "You have the smell of Helsing on you. He should have come himself." He squeezed and the pair died, or felt like it. Instead they woke up back where they'd fought me, unharmed though with sore necks. The bodies behind the militia vanished and the sergeant cursed as the Thor blew away the highly confused Beta. I shook my head at the pair.

"That was a Beta. Graal I understand, but you Micheal? You know that Betas have more power than your standard were."
Edited by Zarkun on 3/26/2013 3:31 PM PDT
Posts: 3,810
OOC: hmm since more time has opened up i'm think of rejoining..
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