Snippet #1595678

Her response was as good as any, and Kisikoni laughed bitterly at it. The pain mixed in with an unfamiliar sensation running across his legs was not helping his mood. Even as he lay back and looked at the battle from his uncomfortable position, he knew that Herrick was being tenacious in it's defense. Luckily, he was able to get a good view of the battle from the walls because the battlements were much lower than that facing the outside world. His visibility remained exceptionally high, even as fires began popping up due to the Children and sometimes from the Legion's attacks. Smoke clouded an area- he judged it was from Talae's weapons but he didn't see her. He didn't see anyone a midst the brawling and smoke that he recognized. He was, though, well aware of Pel's suffering and wondered why she was struggling when she was an accomplished medic. They were wounds, despite all it's abnormality- such superficial skin wounds shouldn't be that hard to heal, right?

He cut off his ignorance at the matter there- as the pain seemed to be receding as something akin to tepid water rushed over it. Pel was in an obvious state of exhaustion, and the Deep Human felt extremely bad for letting his inner sentience get out of control. There was no response, but a hint of malevolence was always tugging at his conscience, trying to coerce him into destroying his own body taking out his enemy and letting it take control. Did it have no need for a physical body?

That was something else he didn't understand either. That feeling while he was unconscious, the moment he looked down and saw a brown root-like growth attaching itself to his body and the being claiming dominance over himself. Even now, he still felt like he had a hole in his chest, though he was slowly getting used to it. He did not have the chance to develop the habit, but if he had been left alone he would have frequently touched his chest just to make sure there was nothing wrong. For the moment.

Another voice spoke, briefly. And I thought I was your favorite conscience, careless punk.. The Live Armor. Kisikoni closed his eyes as the wounds Pel was unable to finish closed themselves up. So rest time was over. Flexing his legs, he felt as good as new, if only more tired than he should be at this stage in attack. He took notice of Pel's bedraggled state, and immediately shifted so he was sitting upright. "I'll get back to the fight." He said immediately, not wanting to waste Pel's work.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gave her a pointed look. "I don't know whether you can still follow me, and if you're tired I am not going to exhaust you my making you do so. I don't care what the higher ups demanded, you aren't going to be any use stabilizing me or whatnot if you're so tired you can't keep up." He said seriously. Kisikoni wasn't sure how much medical magicks exhausted a person, but he had to voice his concerns. It was up to Pel in the end, but he had delayed long enough and he knew he was strong enough to fight. He descended the wall using conventional methods, deciding not to use his innate power unless absolutely necessary. It seems like a huge trade-off, huge injuries for such short spans of unmatched strength, but in the end it was about whether you were alive or not by the end of the battle.

The fighting was brutal due to the Children's unwilling zeal to give up. He wanted to go look for a familiar face. Caine, Lily, Talae, anybody. However, when he saw that the fighting went badly for a narrower street between several lines of men. This was his element- Pikemen may have range, but swordsmen like Kisikoni had little strouble slipping past the deadliest parts of the weapon and digging into the enemy lines before they could draw shorter weapons or allow men from behind to support them. He ran over to them, several streets away. He would have asked for the situation, but the arrows and dragonfire were seriously hampering their attempts to push forward past the pikes.

"Shields! Shields!" Kisikoni cried, drawing on his experience to adapt to the situation. Whoever had shields threw them up, as another rain of arrows took down several more legionnaires. There was nothing they could do to stop them. "Push! Get to the archers before they decimate our forces!" He shouted. The alleyways were unfamiliar, and probably laid with traps. Dodging past a pike, Kisikoni ran down the harmless lengths of the polearms and sent his heavy blades into the flesh of the Children forces. Two pikemen were thrown back by the heavy blades as they stabbed into their chests. And with that, the line of pikemen began to crumble- but those wearing armor and wielding long weapons found it hard to follow suit. Only those armed with short swords and similar weapons could dodge past the pikes and begin weakening the line, but as the pikemen fell, soldiers filled in with their own weapons to combat the lone swordsmen. Steel banged against steel, as Kisikoni parried a sword stroke in the cramped bess and disarmed the soldier. Gutting a pikeman beside him, he knocked the man down and began hacking at an orc who was fighting off another swordsman. Moments later, the pikeline crumbled and the archers began retreating from their spots. "Give chase! Give chase! Don't let them force us into another stalemate!" Kisikoni shouted. The officers didn't object, as it was the only plan they had right now- that was until a thirty story dragon landed in front of them.

Kisikoni fell back as the street cracked under the dragon's feet. Undergods, this is just what he needed. How did he not notice them earlier? Kisikoni had no time to think, as the beast immediately began destroying the front lines. A mage loosed a fireball at it, only to have it dissipate before making contact. Immune to magic? That was bad. Their hides were thick enough that conventional arrows wouldn't do much unless dribbled in contact poison that Talae would have probably specialized in. Their only chance was numbers, but the Dragons were well adjusted to facing overwhelming odds. A swipe of razor edged claw tore straight through a man scattering his parts across the street. In moments, any surviving legionnaire was coated in an ally's blood and parts, leaving them dripping, confused, and despairing. One dropped his weapons, looked at his hands and screamed in terror before he was killed instantly by the dragon. An archer peppered the dragon with arrows, but it did little more than irritate it, as the wounds were very superficial. The archer wasn't skilled enough to line up and accurately shoot the dragon's eyes, which wasn't his fault. Kisikoni knew that if this street was pushed back, there were similar situations in where the dragons attacked the legionnaires. Flipping his right blade into a underhand grip, he rushed the dragon as it pulled it's claws back. It was what his mentor had called the "recovery" phase- an opening in a swipe that left somebody open to attack. It was why haymakers were a damn fool thing to do in martial arts.

Before the Dragon could leap back, he drew his arm back. With a snarl, the heavy blade flashed and sank straight into the knee of the dragon. Stabbing at it once more, he began to feel the world shake under him and realized the Dragon was trying to shake him off as he destroyed the flesh under him, Hanging on for dear life, his action seemed to have inspired several other legionnaires, who picked up the pikes of the fallen pikemen and began jabbing bravely at the monster. With a swipe of the claw, two of the psuedo-pikemen were felled and the line fell back. A jerk of the leg, and Kisikoni's blade came free and sent him crashing through the windows of a dark shop. Cut up and bleeding once more, Kisikoni plucked a glass fragment from his arm and threw the bloodied piece away. Staggering to his feet, he was extremely frustrated to know that this might be calling for the use of his power- even though he resolved not to use it unless absolutely necessary.

Unfortunate, but necessary. The voice commented coolly.

Kisikoni nodded.

Stumbling outside, he realized the monster had gained ground- but had it's back turned to him as a result. As an explosion of what could only be described as fear rippled from him, the being regained it's influence on his limbs once more. However, Kisikoni was aware of overusing the power and began at a run he knew his body was capable of. Tapping his live-armor, the charmed armor combined with the power in his legs and let him leap an impressive twenty feet right onto the shoulder of the dragon. Without pausing, he took his empowered arms and sliced at the dragon's neck, cutting through it's hardened outer flesh with apparent ease.

"Oof. Better not do that so vigorously." Kisikoni panted shortly, before shifting his posture and dropping from the beast's shoulder. His men had once again taken the dragon's distraction to begin attacking it's lower legs, but at this rate both Kisikoni and the Legionnaires were only whittling at the Dragon's physique while the monster itself was tearing into the lines with ease. Twisting in the air, he quickly threw his blade out and sunk it into the Dragon's chest, the sharp blade slicing down the Dragon's outside as he fell. He slowed to a halt after the blade cut through seven feet of Dragonskin, and had to withdraw his blade and drop before the claw that slashed at that spot moments after stole his life.

Landing, he stumbled and began running backward to gain some distance. The thing was mad now, clearly beginning to calculate a more efficient way of seizing the street it had wanted to destroy. It wasn't stupid, it had just acted rashly in the heat of the moment. Now the wounds Kisikoni inflicted on it was beginning to reach it, and the Dragon was starting to strategize. Taking the opportunity, Kisikoni looked his body over. Even with the self-destructive influences of the Being's power, Kisikoni's restraint had stopped most of it's negative effect. Instead of his skin and muscles tearing apart like flimsy rope, he was only bruised and aching. Looking up, the Dragon was raising it's claws once more.

Round two was only just beginning.