Time to make the doughnuts

[notadartboard]

WHO: OPEN
WHERE: EVERYWHERE
WHEN: between Wednesday morning (3/17) and the end of the zombie plot
WARNINGS: prolly icky violence
SUMMARY: ZOMBIE FIGHTINGS. This is an open log, like last time, so go where you will, form your own zombie-killing teams or meet new fellow fighters on the street! Tag yourself in, and use subject headers to indicate

Comments

RESCUE LOG: open <3

[liadrin]

It had all happened too quickly for her to comprehend

[deadelfwalking]

Koltira thrashed wildly on the ground; he was aware of himself and his surroundings only in a bestial sense. He knew pain crackling along every muscle, he smelled terror and decay, he felt the ghouls' claws tearing at his armor. Their weight kept him pressed to the pavement, unable to reach his runeblade, and so he fought them with his plated fists. It was a survival instinct, mindless, automatic. Because deep in his mind, he knew that he was responsible for what was happening right now. The blood of these people was on his hands.

And deep in his mind, Koltira Deathweaver did not want to escape.

[wantedtostudy]

Perhaps unfortunately for Koltira, though, he wasn't alone in being beset by the ghouls. If it had been possible, Jaina would have gladly teleported the two of them out of the area to safety in a second, but unfortunately her teleport spell required quite a bit more concentration than she could afford at the moment.

That didn't stop her from conjuring three thick spears of ice from nothingness and hurling them to skewer some of the zombies currently attacking her erstwhile companion, though.

[windsofcourage]

Link had seen the post. He hadn't bothered to comment. There was no time. He needed to get to Jaina and Koltira's location, as fast as possible. The boy was dirty; his sword and shield were stained with flesh far-too decayed for people who had been dead less than a day. But he plowed through. His short stature allowed him to weave in and out of his enemies easily.

On the way, he saw Lady Liadrin, resplendent in his armor and light. He followed after her.

"Lady Liadrin!! Koltira and Jaina...!"

[notadartboard]

Sanji didn't respond on the network. There wasn't time. He simply ran at top speed to the epicenter of this mayhem, already wanting a piece of that damn necromancer and finally having a bead on him when that happened. Oh well. Good thing he was nearby.

Whoever was under that pile of swarming zombies, Koltira or Jaina, he didn't care, he simply vaulted up and planted his hands firmly on the shoulders of a completely unsuspecting ghoul. He was learning not to call his shots, but he still growled in mingled anger and glee as he spun his entire body around like a whirlwind, legs straight out, in a classic "Party Table Kick Course."

...god that felt good. His feet plowing through scads of zombie heads.

THERE. FIXT. ALL REPLIES GO HERE NOW. <3

[liadrin]

When Liadrin arrived, the others were already fighting in the fray. As the elf skidded to a halt, weapon at the ready, her blazing green eyes scanned the crowd for Koltira; Once locked on his form, holy magic flared out from the tip of her blade as she slashed in a wide arc, clearing the undead as if they were nothing but branches in her way.

"Koltira!! Koltira hold on!!" she cried.

[ebonbladed]

Not far behind Liadrin was Thassarian. His runeblades in hand and cutting down any undead that got in his way. Nothing was going to stop him from reaching Koltira and Jaina. And with him watching Liadrin's back, nothing was going to stop her either.

[wantedtostudy]

Kel'thuzad and the Lich King were known for their cruelty. They could have simply killed her, but instead they did something far worse: They had held her, helpless, and forced her to watch as they worked their nefarious plots and spread the plague.

So the normally mild-mannered sorceress found this all very cathartic in a way, as a howling whirlwind of razor ice tore through the undead, magically passing through her allies as though intangible, leaving them unharmed.

[nightstarrising]

Suddenly, purple blasts of heat like the sun started raining down on zombies like rain. A line of purple energy streaked across the sky above zombie and hero alike as this happened. Even if the zombies were strong and tireless, they were no match for an aerial assault.

Nightstar's green eyes stared down at the horde, careful to aim away from allies. She ignored the screams of the undead and focused instead on the battle. She also looked for the people responsible; she wanted a piece of this Lich King and his flunky as much as anyone else.

[deadelfwalking]

Koltira could hardly see all the allies moving toward him--he was blinded by spurts of gore from the soft ghoul-bodies as he tore them to pieces. His fury was base and unthinking, but it was vicious: though Koltira's body was dead, it still wished to fight, it still struggled against the notion of non-existence.

There was no precision or strategy to Koltira's movements and thus the ghouls kept piling on, trying to suffocate or dismember him. They tore at him relentlessly, and he tore back, and to any onlookers it would likely seem that Koltira was hardly any more sentient than his opponents.

It might seem as though he weren't even trying to escape under his own power.

[argent_honor]

The sword in his hands was forged for this purpose; it blazed with Light, the pure crystalline heart of it near-blinding, purging and burning diseased flesh as he swung in wide arcs. From a distance the Paladin must seem a golden-white spark pressing forward, trailed by a cloud of ash. The dust did nothing to obscure the brightness of plate and steel; the Ashbringer moved as an extension of the Highlord's body and will. He would reach Lady Proudmoore and Koltira; he would defend them, and the Lich King would fall before them. Certainty granted him strength-- and though if he lived through this, if any of them did, his body would ache with the exertion, right now he was a vessel of righteousness and wrath-- driven toward his goal without questioning his success

[windsofcourage]

Link's sword, too, was imbued with the element of light; but it did not glow or shine like the others'. It simply cut through the fiends like butter. Link did not stop to fully destroy the zombies. Instead he cut them at their legs and rushed by, leaving them incapable of anything but crawling.

As he tailed Liadrin, he could feel her desire. She would be the one to save those two. The rest of them need only keep her path clear. And so Link did. He turned to face a mass of Scourge coming behind them. Luckily, the crowd was free of any allies. So from his inventory, Link pulled a blue sphere; a bomb with a relatively short fuse, made of blue papier mache. He struck the fuse on a flint on his belt and it hissed as it began to burn down.

He tossed the bomb into the horde and it exploded on impact in a ball of fire. Zombies in the immediate vicinity were blown apart; others that were farther back were burned.

[liadrin]

Holy magic was coursing through the air, thrumming and hissing as it leaped from one shambling undead to the next. More were coming to their aid. The voices echoing just above gurgling moans and the sounds of her own fearful thoughts were barely discernible. Bestial growls from deep in her throat were released through bared teeth with each fallen ghoul. Another followed as one of the monsters latched onto her arm and tore into her skin just beneath the plate; she jabbed her elbow deep into its skull and pressed on. Just before her she could at last see the Death Knight she was so determined to save.

Liadrin couldn't even utter his name. Instead she consecrated the ground beneath his feet-- it would burn him, yes, but it would also clear a path to his blade.

[deadelfwalking]

Koltira grit his teeth as the ground glowed bright white; its purity seared the darkness inherent in his current form. Zombies fell all around him, burned to ash by Liadrin's power. Koltira was free to stand and take Byfrost from his back.

But he did not.

Instead, he closed his eyes, chest heaving. He did not want to fight. He did not want to be.

He waited for the tide to rise again.