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Thread: Digimon: Civil War

  1. #101
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    "Name's Valentina Araw, and yeah, I heard your name earlier, Adirael," she said. She raised an eyebrow at his chuckle, caught off guard for once but she chuckled along with him, considering what her answer will be. "Eh, I ended up there 'cause I was behind the times in the appearance of prisons. I was trying to free the prisoners when I didn't know it was Ironclad." Another chuckle. "You can guess how well that went. If I knew it was the infamous gulag, I probably wouldn't have tried."
    "A pleasure to meet you, and may we fight well together," Adirael replied. "I think most would avoid Ironclad if they could help it." He chuckled again and smirked. "Though you and I know better than most how lacking their hospitality is, so I'm sure you share my disinterest in ever returning to those abysmal cells." He laughed. "I was trying to help some unfortunate souls escape the D-Brigade, overreached myself, and was captured. I then spent perhaps a year in my cell contemplating matters while the guards tried their utter best to bore me with inane taunting."

    He remembered his capture well. He remembered swooping down between the Commandramon platoon and their quarry, shotguns ripping through the enemy ranks. His claws ripped through a Sealsdramon's throat. Wings beat and he dodged the clumsy volleys aimed his way as his shotguns claimed more of the enemy. He glanced back and called for the Digimon he was trying to save to run. They fled and he fought on to give them time.

    A group of Darkdramon descended, and though one fell with slugs puncturing its skull, the others were too much.

    And so he was dragged in chains to Ironclad.

    But as far as he knew, he had succeeded in saving those few, and that had given him satisfaction even as the D-Brigade's troops vented their frustration on him.

    Valentina broke him from his thoughts by continuing.

    "Bah, never liked the place. I hated it. Quickly got tired of it what with all the 'mons trying to control each other. And the selfishness, ugh. It was a lot harder to get to me since I saw through their lies. Left a long time ago. When I was... a Dobermon. Like I said, it's been a while. Been Realmless longer than I've been in the Syndicate."

    "So what about you? Are you in about the same boat? You sure ain't the kind to take advantage of others." She did a quick up and down glance of him. "And a lot more refined than anyone I knew from there."
    "Something similar to you," Adirael replied. "I served loyally for years, but I found it so empty. I talked to the priests and read the scriptures, and the more I learned, the more I saw the rot and hypocrisy permeating the Syndicate. I saw the lies and I could no longer follow such a society." He paused. "I did awful things in the Syndicate's name. I enforced their will and eventually I saw what corruption I was serving, but I could trust no one. So I left to try and find myself after leading a life of lies."

    He looked at her with a wry smile. "I might be refined, Valentina, but I'm still a demon after all. Are you really so certain I wouldn't take advantage of others if it served my purposes?"

  2. #102
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    Ryia Rohirrim
    Sleipmon
    Enroute to the Hordes


    "Dead. For quite some time," Goliath answered, grating his teeth. "But you knew him, I see. That's more than I would claim myself." His gaze hardened.

    “Hardly, personal, I assure you,” Ryia huffed, “We clashed a few times as clan leader to herd leader. Last time I didn't bother and made him eat the dust of my hooves to show him I could care less about his position as Alpha.”

    “And apparently his priorities were screwed around from what your word suggests.” A fool's idea to believe one's own strength was the ultimate show of power and authority, the worldview of the Unbowed truthfully. She shouldn't be surprised at Goliath's bitter reaction. In her pointed opinion, what was the point of building power for yourself, when there will always be someone stronger to take your place and any memory of your own glories forgotten. No, she awaited the day one of her brood rose up to throw her down, then she would have satisfaction. Her YOUNG. Her BLOOD. Her HERD. The accumulation of the herd's strength and fitness to echo through the generations. How could one know their young grew strong if they abandoned the herd for personal advancement? It was welcoming disaster.

    Yet, even the most hardy and stout of spirit could be wiped out in the blink of an eye as her experience proved so many years ago. Her strength meant nothing then.

    "And you won't question my warriors again if you wish to remain here alongside them." His gaze fell upon the Plutomon, too. "That stands for you as well. You want to join us. I understand. I know that need; the need to fight against this twisted world. But if you fight beside us you will leave all vendettas in the past where they belong."


    Her ears laid flat with disgust and gave a harsh snort, “Very well, I accept this for now. I, Ryia Rohirrim, the Iron Mare and last standing member and leader of the Thundering herd swear it.” The mare pull herself to her full height and bearing. “Use me however you will. A frontal attack, to their flanks, as vanguard, or to charge the steely gates of Argentum itself.” She stomped her front feet in emphasis. “I will make them regret the day they left me live.”

    ********************
    Aayaash Animikki
    Garudamon
    Enroute to the Hordes


    "You're wrong," said Jaeger, speaking in that same even tone as if he was describing the weather. "The Realmpact is code. Not just conditioning, not just an agreement. It is the underlying code of all the Realms. I have seen soldiers of the Empire invoke its power to restrain the physical movements of a foe. As a former Judge, you should have known this."

    “I meant the words I said, Wielder of Ice,” Ayas answered back, not at bothered by the MetalGururumon's criticism. “I was indeed referring to the coding of the Realmpact and the existing conditions it created for us to live by and under.” The elder's feathers pressed flat against his body, conceding Jaeger's mention of the physical manifestations of the Realmpact. “However, in all my years I never knew the coding would go so far...”

    "Elder," Homer said, gaining Ayas's attention once more. "Is this the first time you've been outside your home realm?"

    “Yes, I oversaw jurisdiction of the remote northern settlements of the Astral Order. My fellow Judges dealt with concerns in the rest of the Realm at Prahv.” Ayas explained with a low sigh, shaking his beaked head. “The greater plight of Eon did not come to my knowledge until it affected my tribe directly and I sought out resolution.”

    “Even in my years, there is still knowledge to be learned and wisdom to be gained,” the garudamon elder stepped back and extended his massive wings. He rose into the air into the tree canopy, opting to travel via the branches. Ayas would have preferred to fly overhead to work through the lingering pain, but until they were a safer distance away from Ironclad this would do.

    The binding of the Realmpact through which order is instill to prevent chaos. He'd broken through said coding as demonstrated by his joining with the Realmless. Word would evidently reach Prahv and he would be officially denounced from the Judge ranks.

    Ayas accepted this.

    The garudamon permitted himself a small smile at the ruckus it would cause in the Great Halls. A Judge had turned his back on the Realmpact. He may have been short-sighted to the greater issues affecting Eon until it was at his door step, but it would be more so for the bureaucrats holding office in their lofty assembly halls. They were the furthest removed from the digimon governed by their policies. For this reason, Ayas spent as little time as needed in the central city. How could he help properly guide his tribe and surrounding communities if he didn't know their day-to-day life?

    Ayas looked to the skies above peering through the trees. Mighty Fire Lord, Guide this humble servant of yours to the answers he seeks...

    ***************

    Sawyer
    Garbagemon
    &
    Titus Cloudraker
    SaviorHuckmon
    Enroute to the Hordes


    "So, what's your reason for joining Realmless?" The Plutomon said.

    “Defend the helpless, uphold the weak, undo the wicked. A blind eye I cannot turn from the Empire's actions. And so here I am,” Titus replied quietly. His words would sound cheesy to any other mon, but he lived by his Code with complete seriousness and the purpose it gave him. “As it stands, I have no home with the hordes to keep me there.”

    An another colorful expletive exploded from Sawyer's direction as the Garbagemon tossed the welder and mask into the bottomless depths of his can. Titus remembered something important at that moment.

    “Excuse me, I must have a word alone with Sawyer,” he bowed to Valentina to depart respectfully. He'd overheard Goliath's core members discussing their next designation to the Hordes. With the Realmless starting to move out, the dragon knight wish to have a word with Sawyer before they got too far away. He stepped between the dense trees, mindful of the exposed roots threatening to catch his bladed feet. Sawyer uprighted his cart then with a solid 'thunk'.

    “Sawyer,” Titus called out to his friend.

    “Yea, whatcha need Finn,” the mutant replied with an smile free of the usual scowl.

    “Earlier, you started saying something, what was it?” His horned head tilted in question. The subject seemed rather urgent.

    Sawyer paled lighter in color if it were possible. The pink mutant rubbed his now sweaty palms in nervousness, shuffling his feet in the dirt. “Uhhhmm yea about that... actually its..,” he muttered, trying to stall for time.

    The silver dragon knelt low, concern etched on his face, “Sawyer, please,” he spoke quietly, “You can speak of this to me. It's obviously bothering you.”

    The Garbagemon gazed long into the Saviorhuckmon's golden eyes with dread. He took a deep breath. “Finn, what was your ma's name?”

    The Saviorhuckmon jerked back in surprise. His mother? Why would Sawyer ask that... “Kara. Kara Cloudraker.” He didn't breathe another word.

    Sawyer closed his eyes tight and turned to face away from the dragon knight. He couldn't look Finn in the eyes. “Back at Ironclad, when I was snooping through what files I could access I-I came across an old prisoner transfer list,” he stammered out the words in a rush. “Her name was on it.”

    Titus dropped onto both knees, his chest moving with a shaky breath with the bombshell. He found he needed to lock an elbow to support himself above the ground as the news sunk in. His mother had been at Ironclad?! Impossible! Unless...

    “Finn? Hey, pal!” Sawyer called anxiously, uncertain how to reaction to his friend's unusual behavior. The mutant was about to shake his shoulder, when the dragon knight rose abruptly with an unreadable expression. Sawyer backed away quickly, landing flat on his butt.

    “Sawyer, stay close with the rest of the realmless, they'll look after you,” Titus said, his words hollow. The dragon knight stared off into the distance, almost like he was barely aware of the Garbagemon's presence. He took a few steps, before pausing. “I...I need sometime alone,” he whispered, “if anyone asks I'll join back up later with the group. I know the way.”

    With a silver-white flash, the dragon man was gone with a glint and a crash through the trees, leaving behind a fretting Sawyer.

    **********************************

    Ryia Rohirrim
    Sleipmon
    The Dragon Hordes


    Hot vents of steam gushed the red form of Sleipmon as she pranced across the changing landscape. She paid no attention to the heat or sweat coating her black hide beneath the armor. The Iron Mare was forged in the unforgiving heat of the desert, this was no different. With deft movements and surefooted steps, Ryia galloped across the lava streams heedlessly and with unbridled energy. Let her new compatriots think her a silly filly, she cared not.

    Ryia slowed in her gallop alongside the BeelStarrmon with a spring in her step, sly mirth danced in her eyes. She leaned over close to Versa in the appearance of whispering, but her words were deliberately audible, “I’d hang onto that stud muffin if I were you, hon, no tellin’ when he’d get snatched up by another,” Ryia gave Surrak her own thorough look over, before arching her eyebrows at him. She kicked her legs off the ground for a spurt of speed and maybe ‘accidentally’ hip checking Versa closer to Surrak in the process.

    Ryia resumed her brisk pace across the barrens with a pleasant burn in her limbs. The pace through the forest had been a mere warm-up for the older mare after she'd dismissed her armaments into a digital mist so she didn't constantly get snagged on the overgrown vegetation. Her sharp hearing would detect potential danger with sufficient warning.

    Now while the Realmless trudged along their route to the Dragon Hordes, Ryia paraded around at full speed ahead of the group to double back and begin ahead on the other side. A waste of energy to some maybe, but for her it was reconditioning her endurance after years of in the depths of Ironclad. She'd maintained this pace for a while now and was not winded yet. Beside it wasn't as though the group as traveling that fast, not with the rusty old dinosaur bringing up the rear.

    Ryia surveyed the group to assess their apparent strengths and the way they interacted together. Perhaps, she was not herd leader, but observing group dynamics was second nature for her and it help identify stragglers. Especially familiar pink, smelly, garbage eating ones that squish easily. The mare changed the direction of her march to come up behind the preoccupied Garbagemon.

    “What do you want, grandma?” Sawyer sniped at the Sleipmon.

    “You, mutant.” She punctuated, grabbing the garbagemon roughly by the scuff and hauled his a** out from his garbage cart. Sawyer flailed mid-air in surprise, grabbing frantically to the purple white mane for security when the mare plopped him on her back. “What do you think you’re doin’, you senile old mule?” Sawyer yelled from his uncomfortably broad seat.

    “If I were so senile, then I must have been imaging the Tuwarmon guard slipping away from the garrison to reappear in another form among the cub’s Realmless.” Ryia said with a cold glare.

    Sawyer turned stone silent.

    “However, I am suppose to give you the benefit of the doubt,”

    The garbagemon breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

    “But I highly doubt the Empire would send a sniveling worm such as yourself for a spy, though why you would choose to remain in such a weak form is beyond me.”

    Sawyer huffed up indignant, shaking a fist at Ryia, “Hey, now! I’ve gotten by just fine so far.”

    “So far.” Ryia said steely, twisting her upper body to lean into the Garbagemon’s personal space. “Which means I get the pleasure of whipping your sorry kiester into shape and not a cowering pile of goo waiting to be stepped on if you still insist.”

    Sawyer scooted as far back on the mare’s rump as he could, he didn’t trust those devilish eyes. Ryia scoffed with disappointment. “A skittish foal,” she muttered. “By the time I’m done with you’ll be joining the front of the charge with the rest of us.”

    “You’re mad.” Sawyer said, eyes wide as can lids.

    “And you’re along for the ride,” Ryia called out with a scream, rearing on her backend and charging once again across the hot smoldering terrain.

    “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

    The mutant's screams echoed across the barren landscape. His faithful(less) garbage can continued puttering along in its cart with the rest of the Realmless, ignoring its master’s cries.

    ________________________________

    (OOC: Titus isn't actually far from the group he's just trailing them from a distance. He just needed to process his thoughts or lose his composure a bit. I'll get another bit up with him in a new post or add it on here, depending.)
    Anything is possible...apart from skiing through a revolving door.

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  3. #103
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    Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
    Walking in the Wasteland


    "You're welcome to join us," Goliath said. Versa had to do everything in her power not to smirk. The way he tried not to look like he was checking her out was downright adorable. It was comforting to know she could have an impact on him like this though. That could prove useful. "And as I said before; as long as you're willing to fight against the corruption of the Empire you're welcome to join with us." the BanchoLeomon continued.

    Versa smiled and gave Goliath a sly wink. "Thank you, that's all I ask."

    The group was heading out with a purpose now, on their way to meet with the dragon hordes if she heard correctly. Versa sauntered off, walking near the edge of the group. Far enough to look like she wasn't trying to buddy up, but close enough so Goliath couldn't help but catch a glimpse of her every now and then as they walked.

    Still, the land was changing. The forests were fading out, giving rise to an increasingly desolate looking landscape of rocks, steaming holes in the ground, and lava that flowed like water. And the heat, by the stars the heat was unbearable. Stupid reptiles and their fire and lava. After two years in a cold stone and metal cell, she was already starting to sweat. And it was only going to get hotter from here? Fantastic. Where was a Frigimon when you needed one?

    Versa was already starting to run every sly insult she could think to deliver the dragon hordes about their lack of climate control when, of all digimon, a Wargreymon X landed by her side. "How did someone as lovely as you end up in a place like that?" he asked. If he had tried to mask the intent as a simple inquiry, he had failed miserably. Still, Versa appreciated directness. It was rare.

    "He means to ask how someone with the full opulence of the Syndicate ended up standing against the Empire," A MetalGarurumon X said as he appeared beside the dragon. This one had tact at least, but Versa wasn't sure which approach she appreciated more.

    "Don't mince my words, ice breath," Surrak rumbled. "If I wanted to ask that I'd have asked the other one, too."

    The "Other One" huh?

    Versa followed their exchange and the subsequent nod in the Beelzemon's direction. Oh. OH. So that's how it was. Versa was going to have fun with this one.

    The BeelStarmon smirked at the two guys. "Oh, so I'm part of a set now am I?" She made a show of checking out the Wargreymon, looking utterly unimpressed. With one long, delicate finger she poked him square in the chest, almost playfully, but with enough force to slow his gait. "A word of advice. When trying to woo a lady, you're supposed to make her feel special. Hell, make her laugh and you're halfway there. But you..."

    She traced her finger up to his shoulder where she twirled a lock of his hair around her finger for just a moment.

    "You seem to think that because I'm a demon that must put me in the same boat with the "other one", right? That I lived a life of playful opulence and naivety content to bathe in the spoils of my power and looks without a care as to the heads I stepped on along the way? How boring for you to see me as just another attractive body." She turned her back to him, getting perhaps a bit too close to the MetalGarurumon X.

    "Don't think you can flex your muscles and win me over hot stuff. I prefer men who know how to talk up a lady, not talk down to one." she said, giving a slow flirty wink to Jager and making sure they both saw it. She slipped away slowly, making sure to look as sultry as possible.

    Of course, Ryia had other ideas than to let Versa have the last laugh it seemed. The Sleipmon galloped right up to Versa's side where she said. “I’d hang onto that stud muffin if I were you, hon, no tellin’ when he’d get snatched up by another,” Ryia gave Surrak a very obvious once-over before dashing off. When she did though, her hip bumped Versa right up to the Wargreymon's side again. Oh, Ryia had just bought herself a one way ticket to Versa's blacklist for this.

    Thirty different ways to make the Sleipmon's life exceedingly difficult flashed through Versa's head in the second it took for her to steady herself. She cast an over-the-shoulder look back at the WarGreymon, as though seriously considering Ryia's words, before huffing dismissively. "At least you're popular with the old ladies." she said with a pitying laugh. "I won't try to steal her stud muffin." She walked away, laughing even harder.

    ---------------------------

    Jericho Arcos (RustTyranomon)
    Walking the Wastelands


    The heat looked like it was bothering some of their party, but Jericho found it invigorating. His oil was flowing better than ever, his joints soothed by the warm air and the steam that he didn't bother to avoid. The machine side was pleased, but his Tyranomon side was even more so. This place felt like home to him. Perhaps when this war was over, when his duty was finally done. Perhaps, if he survived. Then maybe he would return and settle here in these lands.

    One of the group approached him now. It caught the old man off guard actually, most of the group seemed to eye him with a healthy dose of distrust. He couldn't blame them, he was not only a machine, but a former soldier of their enemies. His surprise was lessened when he was it was a fellow machine that had done so. A sense of camaraderie in the OmniShoutmon perhaps?

    "Hey there. Jericho, right?" she said. "Name's Suranuras Suga, but just call me Sura. I was a former auxilary member of the D-Brigade."

    A solider? Perhaps he was not as alone here as he thought.

    "I heard plenty about you when I was in service, mainly from my husband. I have to say, I'm really happy you're on our side and I get to fight by you. It's not everyday someone I knew from the Empire, well except my brother but anyways, it's nice to see someone else from the Empire, even more so someone I knew about."

    Ah, so stories of his exploits were still told back home? By whom he wondered. Many, though not all it seemed, still thought of him as a traitor. Perhaps his example had actually emboldened some to rise in resistance? The thought was a balm for his wounded soul.

    "Seriously, it's nice to meet you."

    Jericho laughed, a hearty deep sound now that the heat had rejuvenated him. "No, the pleasure is mine," he rumbled. "I never expected to meet a fellow soldier here. I worked with many a member of the D-Brigade back in my day, though that was a long time ago."

    The old warrior took note of the scar across her chest. She had mentioned a husband too, hadn't she? This one was much younger than he was, but she had her own history, perhaps too much of it. This world was never fair with how pain was distributed. Some souls held little, while others held far too much.

    "Tell me, what stories do they tell of me? What legacy did I leave behind after my imprisonment?" he sighed, weak and heavy. "I suppose the more important question, is what did your husband have to say about me? What impression did I leave on him?"

    Jericho's eyes started to go a bit distant, a train of memories finding their way back to him. "I did too much harm to this world. Too much pain was dealt at my command. My sins are many and they are heavy."

    He looked the OmniShoutmon right in the eyes. "Why would you fawn over an old bloodstained dog of war like myself?"
    Last edited by TheSequelReturns; 7th May 2017 at 2:50 AM.
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  4. #104
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    Valentina Araw the Plutomon
    Here There Be Dragons


    The demon went on to first comment on Ironclad before explaining how he got there.

    And then he said with a wry grin, "I might be refined, Valentina, but I'm still a demon after all. Are you really so certain I wouldn't take advantage of others if it served my purposes?"

    Oh this was fun.

    Valentina returned it. "Who says I won't either?"

    She held it for a moment before she let off a laugh. "Eh, might be rusty in telling the difference if that's the case, but you don't seem the type to me. Met someone a bit like you once. Not a demon, sure, but he was a Realmless from Unbowed. You don't really expect someone with manners from there." She looked at Goliath for a moment. "Well, someone who has manners and acts like a gentleman"

    She paused.

    "Or you're just really good at acting. Congrats if so, can't tell the difference. I for sure can't do that even if my life depended on it."

    Another pause as the voices reminded her of a few incidents.

    "Actually, I think it's happened a few times. Failed miserably in all of them."

    She chuckled at herself at those memories, but it was noticeably grief filled. There was a tiny part of her that wished she had done better in those times, the times when Ray was still learning about her. He had been very patient with her, despite all the difficulties she put him through. And she knew she had, several of his Realmless complained about her for the first few months but he kept his stance firm. He believed in her, even near death. As bad as she felt, she knew there was only one way to make up for it: help these guys. Speaking of that...

    "Either way, if it does come to that, no hard feelings, right?"

    And it was at that point that Valentina heard the scream of a familiar voice and saw that he was on the back of the old mare.

    Valentina let out a huge laugh.

    When it died down, the sad filled smile returned. "Heh, I remember I did that with Sunshine after I left the Syndicate..."

    ...

    Homer Suga the Dynasmon
    Realm of the Dragon Hordes


    Ayaash answered simply, saying he hadn't been anywhere beyond his home realm before joining Goliath's Realmless. Then he left, likely to spread his wings and stretch some muscles. Homer couldn't blame him. Ever since he had gained his Mega form, he had found the occasional need to do the same, getting somewhat restless if he didn't fly at least once every other day. But thankfully, this wasn't one of those times, so he could just walk with the others, only using his wings to get over some nasty rocks, vents or cracks.

    That was when he noticed a voice he was familiar with...except it was screaming, very loudly.

    Homer just watched as the Sleipmon rushed off with Sawyer on her back, somewhat dumbfounded. He...hadn't expected such a comic, and familiar, situation to happen. Sura did that lot when they were still young, him a Wizardmon and her a Shoutmon, even with her about half his size. At this point, he also noticed something else, the BeelStarmon, Versa, laughing as she passed by him, not noticing him. But it wasn't her laughter as so much her words that made him raise his brow and say,

    "Stud muffin?"

    Then his gaze followed the general direction she came from and saw that Jaeger and Surrak were there. That was...odd. Then again, she had a considerable figure and it was drawing the attention of quite many of the males. It still didn't explain the stud muffin bit though. He was curious about something though. With another flap of his wings, he arrived by her side and stated to walk in stride with her.

    "Excuse me? Versa, correct? I...heard some of what you said to Goliath. My name is Homer. Homer Suga," he said as an introduction. "What did you mean when you said...show you what it means to be Realmless?"

    ...

    Suranuras Suga the OmniShoutmon
    Realm of the Dragon Hordes


    The old soldier seemed surprised at her presence, though whether that's because she was a former Imperialist or just because someone approached him at all she couldn't tell. It was probably a bit of both. Either way, the dinosaur was glad to speak to her. He mentioned he had worked with D-Brigade members before and was surprised to meet a former soldier in the group. He then talked a bit, asking a few things, like about her husband and such. Or rather, he asked what kind of impression he left.

    She would've gladly answered them right away...but then the old rusty Tyrannomon looked at her straight in the eye and said,

    "Why would you fawn over an old bloodstained dog of war like myself?"

    If she was someone else, she might have backed down, she might've been scared, but she did neither. Instead, she gave a smile, one of understanding and warmth.

    "Remember, I'm one myself. Though, yeah, I'm not as old as you, but I've killed many in my service and I paid for it. Or rather, my friends and husband did. They died, not too long ago, when we fought another group of Realmless. I only survived that mission because my husband gave me his data with the last of his strength." She paused, just in case she spoke too fast, as usual. "I decided to quit. Nearly was killed that time then my brother..." She gestured to the Dynasmon in the group. "...saved me from that. He has his own 'sins' too, being an instructor in the obedience program."

    The smile became more cheerful, and confident, despite everything. "But that's why we're here, right? To at least try to make up for it." Another pause, mostly to sigh. "Anyways...well, the stories are pretty much mixed. Some said you disappeared, others said you died in combat and many more said your were a traitor. My husband, though, when he was young, only really heard of your exploits than your end. It...inspired him to be soldier, to defend the defenseless."

    A chuckle, but one not completely amused. "I know, not exactly a nice thought. But I do know that if he survived, he'd be fighting along side me and us." Her smile this time was genuinely amused. "And probably glad to meet you and that you're fighting with us. That's why I'm glad you're here. It means even that long ago, some of our 'mons realized what we were truly doing."

    She was quiet for a while, just trailing by him. Then she spoke again, once again giving a comforting smile. "Again, I know it's not much, but just know that you're not alone. At least I've got your back, and I'm sure my kuya also."
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  5. #105
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    "Who says I won't either?"
    Adirael chuckled. "Touche."

    She held it for a moment before she let off a laugh. "Eh, might be rusty in telling the difference if that's the case, but you don't seem the type to me. Met someone a bit like you once. Not a demon, sure, but he was a Realmless from Unbowed. You don't really expect someone with manners from there." She looked at Goliath for a moment. "Well, someone who has manners and acts like a gentleman"

    She paused.

    "Or you're just really good at acting. Congrats if so, can't tell the difference. I for sure can't do that even if my life depended on it."
    Perhaps he was acting. Or perhaps he was sincere. Perhaps he was acting so well it convinced himself that he was sincere. Even he wasn't sure sometimes how deep in the blood the demon disposition toward self-interest ran. But then, if it did, he probably wouldn't have been so sickened by the hollow dog-eat-dog nature of the Syndicate.

    "I thank you for the compliment," he said. "For the time being, at least, it seems to be in both our interests to fight together with this group, so hopefully we will not see our sincerity tested soon." He widened his smile a little.

    How different this was to the duplicity and lies of the Syndicate. This mocking and goading was good-natured, at least he assumed it so on her part too. In the ruthless realm of the Syndicate, even words were like blades.

    "Actually, I think it's happened a few times. Failed miserably in all of them."
    Adirael looked at her with all three eyes, sensing the grief in her subsequent chuckle. The light edge of their jibes was gone, suddenly she seemed mournful. As though those failures had cost her in some way. It reminded him that he had been alone. Just a demon hiding beneath a white cloak fighting the Empire out of a sense of the wrongness of their ascension. He had barely interacted with anyone since he left the Syndicate. He had waved off thank yous and rewards. The most contact he'd had with anyone had been taunts hurled at him by the guards in Ironclad.

    "I didn't have the opportunity to tell," he murmured. "I was just... alone. After I left the Syndicate, I wandered without much purpose. Just fought the Empire because I felt they were wrong." He paused. "This is almost the longest conversation I've had in all that time."

    "Either way, if it does come to that, no hard feelings, right?"
    "No hard feelings," he nodded. "Though as I said, hopefully we will not see it come to that." He followed her gaze as she looked away, seeing the Sleipmon racing across the ashen terrain with the Garbagemon on her back. He heard the Plutomon laugh and chuckled with her, genuinely amused by the sight and Sawyer's distress.

    "Heh, I remember I did that with Sunshine after I left the Syndicate..."
    She was smiling sadly again, as though remembering something that pained her.

    "Sunshine?" Adirael asked gently. "I don't mean to pry. If you don't wish to speak of it, I understand."

  6. #106
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    Dragon Horde Lands
    Surrak Dragonclaw - WarGreymon X


    The BelleStarmon said...something. Surrak couldn't quite figure out if it was a compliment or an insult. Why she couldn't just say "thank you" like everyone else? Did she know how rare a compliment from him was? Especially if he hadn't seen her fight yet. By the Firemind, what was with these new ones? People were always taking the things he said the wrong way. "No, Surrak, we don't all live for killing everything else" when all he said was that they should be proud of being such a skilled killer. Or "No, Surrak, that's an inappropriate thing to say to someone" when all he said was that they should try to find someone or something worth their time rather than hinging themselves up on the things in their past.

    He shrugged. It didn't matter. Those things were all true. Especially there, in the heat and the fires of the Horde territory. This was home, where he belonged more than anywhere else. The only thing standing in his way was the Empire and the Realmpact. They constrained them, constrained the Hordes, and the Hordes were meant to be free; so by association they constrained Surrak as well. This place, this home of his, was where he wanted to be. Somewhere he could fight to his heart's content; a place to prove his strength and call his own.

    Surrak breathed deep, taking in the heat and the flame. He breathed out smoke and let it roll in the air around him. He could taste it; they were getting deeper into Horde territory. It was only a matter of time…

    ==\=/==

    Dragon Horde Lands
    Jaeger Rhimewind - MetalGarurumon X


    The heat was oppressive, and Jaeger quickly realized he hated it. They had heat in in the territory of the Unbowed Clans, but nothing like this. None of this sweltering, oppressive, caldera heat. It was playing havoc with his sensors, he couldn't distinguish living bodies from the fiery earth around them, and he was forced to rely on sight and sight alone. It was disconcerting, and disquieting, and unbecoming of someone as precise as him.

    Not only that, but the smell was overpowering: the harsh acrid scent of brimstone and burning rock filled the air and assaulted his nose. He could tell some of the others were uncomfortable, but none seemed as ill-pleased. He wasn't surprised; he was a wolf, after all.

    Even the skies were filled with that same heavy black smoke, obscuring everything from sight. No eyes, no sensors. Jaeger fought the urge to snarl: they were walking blind. The Empire could be right on top of them and they'd never know it.

    Then again, neither would the Empire. It was a small comfort, and an uncertainty. Jaeger dealt in absolutes.

    Ahead of him Ajax and Surrak forged on, unencumbered by the heat and the smoke. They would, of course, be used to such an environment. This was their home. Titus, too, made easy progress over the charred ground, and Jaeger was about to protest their exuberance when the suddenly stopped.

    "What is it?" Goliath asked, stepping from behind Jaeger and making his way to the front of the line. The three dragons gazed into the smoke and the black-red sky.

    "We're not alone," Ajax said, grasping his halberd more purposefully. Beside him Jaeger could see the telltale tightening of Surrak's shoulders that always meant a fight was near.

    A blast of light plunged from the sky and seared a line in front of their ranks. A host of shapes darted through the smoke and ash, landing on a rocky outcrop ahead of them. Dragons stood and unfurled their wings. An Imperialdramon, a Slayerdramon, a Gaiomon, a Dorugoramon, a Spinomon, an OwRyumon, a Dynasmon, and a WarGreymon and a host more.

    "In the name of the Firemind, you will cease your incursion into our land," said the dragon at the center, a huge Imperialdramon Fighter Mode. "I am Imego. I am the Storm's Fury. And we will not tolerate trespassers."
    Last edited by Kamotz; 14th May 2017 at 10:49 PM.


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  7. #107
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    Titus Cloudraker (Saviorhuckmon)
    Somewhere behind the Realmless


    He ran.

    Blindly through the thick underbrush, Titus ran without his usual grace, tripping up and stumbling on roots. Sawyer’s news sending him into a state of shock he wasn’t sure how to process. Emotions he’d buried long ago as a lost child returned. A sense of loss and helplessness, he’d moved beyond when he accepted he would never know what happened that day, when he returned to his home in flame and ruin. Now, he’d learned that his mother may have survived past that day and evidenced pointed to the Metal Empire.

    His father, who knew.

    He vaguely remembered the Gigadramon and Megadramon pair invading his family’s remote territory. His Wingdramon father fought them and drove them out. All this mere days before his home burned. Rogue dragons looking for easy prey was the consensus between his parents, but Titus had been too young at the time to really understand. Older now and well traveled, the dragon knight knew a digimon species could be found in more than one Realm depending on their circumstances. Did he not just fight against a Megadramon and Gigadramon, belonging to the Metal Empire, in the battle of Setessa?

    Why? Why then would the Metal Empire target his family?

    An uncharacteristic cry of fury erupted as he swiftly swung his blades in an arch, cleaving a swath of trees in his path. He kept this up for sometime, clearing a new path to vent his frustration and confusion until the old emotions burned away with the excursion. The blade on his left arm wedged itself tightly in old Oak, the energy in his swings finally diminishing. The dragon knight heaved deeply from the excessive exercise. He frowned at the wasteful movements and wanton destruction he’d just caused.

    Titus pulled his blade from the wood with a resigned sigh. Straightening up, he composed himself, whispering the Words over and over to further calm his conflicted core. His awaken Fury simmered down to a placid flickering flame. The silver dragon opened his eyes.

    The forest was quiet. His previous rampage silencing any wildlife or anyone witness to his lashing out. Standing alone here, he’d gleamed no answers to his questions. If he should ever find them. The sun hidden behind the forest’s thick canopy, Titus turned instinctively to the north to follow in the wake of the Realmless. To follow in the steps of the Words he’d committed himself to and face whatever answers come alight as he returned to the land of his birth.

    *************************

    The silver dragon flew over the barren and broiling landscape, not literally, but his movements swift and precise made it appear so. Hot steam burst from the ground doing little to hamper his progress except blowing his cape to the side. The Realmless became more visible and clearer through the thick smoke as he drew near. Finally, he caught up to the rear, joining them without a word. He moved with a slower pace now though he walked with purpose to the front of the group. The hood of his blue mantle draped over his horned head, obscuring his face and expression. He noticed Ayas had taken to walking alongside one of the newer recruits from Ironclad, the Duftmon.

    Midway, he caught up the Sleipmon and with mild surprise found Sawyer riding on her back looking a bit under the weather. The Garbagemon noticed his close friend’s return and nearly spoke up, but paused. The Saviorhuckmon’s golden eyes shined through his goggles with an emotion, not pleading, but asking for the Garbagemon to wait. Sawyer sighed, but nodded reluctantly.

    Ryia observed the silent communication with a critical eye in her peripheral. Out loud, Titus spoke as he face straight ahead, “Watch over him for me, will you? The place ahead will not be kind to him.”

    “You need not ask, young dragon,” the mare replied, sharing a knowing glare with the Garbagemon. Sawyer wilted slightly at the implications. The ominous distance grew between the two friends, when Titus pushed on to join the front of the group. He measured his pace carefully, choosing to remain just behind Surrak and Ajax as they determined the Realmless’s route.

    Such it was until, the two dragons ahead of him stopped. Titus scanned the smoke-filled skies for the disturbance that tickled at the edge of his conscious.

    "What is it?" Goliath asked as he joined the three dragons at the front.

    "We're not alone," Ajax answered. The MedivielGallantmon and WarGreymon X both tensed in anticipation. Titus did so as well, his right arm blade poised slightly upward at the ready.

    The sky burst with a blind light crossing their path as a multiple of dragons flooded in a fierce show of force and landed on rock outcroppings ahead.

    “In the name of the Firemind, you will cease your incursion into our land," said the dragon at the center, a huge Imperialdramon Fighter Mode. "I am Imego. I am the Storm's Fury. And we will not tolerate trespassers."

    “We come not as intruders, but seek audience with the Khan,” Titus projected loud and clear, gone was the quiet and humble dramon. He pulled off hood and goggles and stepped ahead of the others, a unflinching and dauntless knight. Titus could not afford to show weakness here.

    “And who dares speak to the Storm’s Fury,” Imego hissed.

    Titus buffed out his chest, “I, Titus Cloudraker of the Imperia Horde and Rheagos’s Legacy, dare speak,” he proclaimed, holding out a bladed arm in the direction of the Imperialdramon FM, Imego. He probably had their attention now, the Imerialdramon Paladin Mode, Rheagos, had been a highly respected Horde Chief for the sheer power he commanded. However, Titus often remembered the sneers and looks of disdain sent the elder dragon’s way when his back was turned for his eccentricities.

    “And you would do well to hear out our leader,” Titus shifted his head to the side, gesturing to Goliath. Not once did he break away eye contact with the Storm’s Fury.

    The knowledge that he was a level lower than the dragons present did nothing to discourage the silver-white dragon if a fight broke out. He’d been borned of the Hordes, yes, but it was the greater world at large which forged him into the dramon that stood today. The fires of his dragon spirit stirred in his golden eyes, while the blue crystal upon his chest glowed slightly with his building determination.
    Last edited by Solsabre; 22nd May 2017 at 11:25 PM.
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  8. #108
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    Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
    Border of the Dragon Hordes Territory


    "Excuse me?" yet another manly voice called. Versa tilted her head just enough to see the source of the new voice, a Dynasmon. "Versa, correct? I...heard some of what you said to Goliath. My name is Homer. Homer Suga," he said as an introduction.

    Unlike the others so far, he hadn't yet made a point to stare at her chest. It was sad that that was a plus at this point, but when you were blessed (alternative reading: cursed) with looks like this, what could you do? "What did you mean when you said...show you what it means to be Realmless?"

    And he was paying attention. Kudos for that. Versa regarded Homer for a moment, noting the scars he bore. He had taken some hits for someone so calm and forthcoming. Then again, he wouldn't be here if he hadn't right? Rebels came in all sorts.

    "You caught that hmm?" she said as she twirled a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, it means just what it sounds like. Its a pain to have to admit it, but I have no idea if I'm what you'd call "Realmless" or not."

    The BeelStarmon sighed. "I'm a rebel, don't worry about that. But the only reason I was in that cell back there was because of the Realmpact's meddling with my fights." She tossed her hair up and back over her shoulder with a flourish of her hand before spending a little too long inspecting her nails.

    Should she open up to this guy? Nah, not yet anyway. But if the Realmpact worked its magic on her again in the next fight, it would be bad. She had to know if he knew how to break the chains on her code. If there were still chains to break anyway. Ugh. Why did this have to be so complicated? Give her something to shoot over all this philosophical postulating please.

    "I'm nervous that it'll happen again is all." she finally said, more in an effort to save face than anything else. "I can't suffer that humiliation again."

    ---

    Jericho Arcos (RustTyranomon)
    Border of the Dragon Hordes Territory


    Jericho was prepared for a wide variety of responses to his question. Cynicism, platitudes, dismissal, some quiet assurance that he wasn't all that bad or that he had simply done what he had to do. He was not expecting her to relate to him. Her warm smile was a pleasant surprise.

    He listened patiently as the OmniShoutmon told her story. They weren't much different, he decided. Suranuras, her late husband, and himself. All tools used up and cast aside by the Metal Empire. "I am truly sorry to hear of your husbands fate." he added at that point in the tale.

    Suranuras's smile seemed to grow as she went on. These memories, this story of hers. It was not a burden. It was her strength. The knowledge that she and her husband were inspired by his stand was also a welcome boon. This woman was strong. Stronger, perhaps, than he. Jericho would have felt shame at his own pity for himself if he wasn't still having trouble believing he was actually outside his cell. No dream of his could have conjured up this conversation though. It felt more real, more honest to him than the sunlight or the heat or the soil beneath him.

    She laughed, not quite a joyous sound, but not sad either. "I know, not exactly a nice thought. But I do know that if he survived, he'd be fighting along side me and us." She paused, a little bit of light returning to her eyes. "And probably glad to meet you and that you're fighting with us. That's why I'm glad you're here. It means even that long ago, some of our 'mons realized what we were truly doing."

    "I am glad as well." the old dinosaur said. "It does me well to know that my choices were not in vain. That more of my countrymen continue to break free of the Empire. And that you are here, honoring your husband's memory."

    They were both quiet for a while, just walking and thinking over the words they shared. Suranuras was the first to speak again. "Again, I know it's not much, but just know that you're not alone. At least I've got your back, and I'm sure my kuya also."

    Jericho gave her a respectful nod, the best he could manage with his still-stiff back. "And I will watch your back as well." he said. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. It has been..." he trailed off, his eyes going distant as his memory took him to some far off time. It was a good few seconds before he snapped back to life. "Ah... my apologies." he scratched his neck, the soft screech of metal on metal not exactly pleasant. "I have not had a real conversation in ages."

    "In the dark, always in the dark." he muttered. Turning back to her, he continued. "I've been locked in that cell since the day they shipped me away from my trial in the Empire. I lost count of the days. And then it had been months and years and perhaps longer. I know not. All I could see and feel and imagine was the dark. The cold. The rare occasion when a guard would actually speak to me through the tiny window in the door instead of passing me by."

    For a moment, Jericho looked wistful, like he would get lost in another memory at any second. But he simply said, "So thank you for speaking with me. Truly." and then he was quiet.

    After a little while longer, they were met with a group of Dragon Digimon, envoys from the Hordes. Jericho, and Versa as well, turned to the more experienced Realmless, looking to see how they should proceed.
    Last edited by TheSequelReturns; 27th May 2017 at 12:21 AM.
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  9. #109
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    Valentina Araw the Plutomon
    Here There Be Dragons


    Turns out, Adirael noticed her thinking out loud. Then again, it was said plainly and for anyone who could hear, so that was to be expected. As well as the demon getting curious about her words. She didn't blame him, she would be too if the roles were reversed. She did end up smiling slightly at him saying that she didn't have to talk about it unless she was willing. It once again reminded her of her two good friends.

    "Don't worry, I don't mind," she said, her smile now genuinely happy, touched by his simple gesture. She took a deep breath nonetheless before she continued, looking ahead. "Sunshine was the nickname I gave to a friend of mine, a Seasarmon named Sonnet. As soon as I left the Syndicate, I ended up meeting some Imperial patrols. They attacked and I barely managed to escape. Would've died if Sunshine hadn't found me."

    She could still remember that day when she woke up to meet the lion with a large face. She had been rather wary of her, at first. After all, all she ever knew was others trying to take advantage of her by using her compassionate side. But she knew there were strength in numbers. And seeing as the Seasarmon apologized to her for simply being too rough in handling her wounds, she soon came to trust the beast Digimon.

    "She was with a small group of Realmless, even smaller than our ragtag team here. She's dead now though, along with the others. Killed by the D-Brigade." She looked back at Adirael. "But I don't have any hard feelings for them Imperialists. After all, we got a few of 'em with us," she said, gesturing to those in question. Her grin turned amused. "Besides, if Sunshine were here, she'd would probably scold me for not trying to give 'em a chance. And Ray too."

    ...

    Homer Suga the Dynasmon
    Realm of the Dragon Hordes


    This was an...interesting development, for lack of a better word. He hadn't realized there were rebels yet they were still affected by the Realmpact. That only made him question how exactly were they Realmless. Admittedly, he thought it was just because of his strong to defect from the Empire, and his lost faith on the pact, that made him Realmless. But it seemed there was more to that, if Versa's words were any indication.

    Then she said, "I'm nervous that it'll happen again is all. I can't suffer that humiliation again."

    Homer could only imagine. After all, if the D-Brigade had used the power of the Realmpact on him and his sister whenmthey tried to escape...and it worked...he knew for sure they wouldn't be here. It must have been harder on her if she had been alone and she seemed the type that hated to be humiliated.

    "Well, for what it's worth, if such a thing happens, I will do my best to make sure you are safe. I'm sure my sister would as well."

    ...

    Suranuras Suga the OmniShoutmon
    Realm of the Dragon Hordes


    Sura listened patiently as the veteran said his share. It wasn't like there was anything she could say. She did, however, smile warmly once again when the old dinosaur thanked her, and felt a tiny bit giddy from the fact that Jericho Arcos had expressed his gratitude to her.

    "No problem, Jericho," she said.

    And she merely walked with him after that. That was, until she stopped. She didn't know what it was, or how she knew, all she could think was she felt something...

    ...and her instincts screamed that it was more dragons.

    ...

    Homer Suga the Dynasmon

    Homer froze in his walk with Versa, the voices—his instinct—warning him. He tensed and looked to the smoke before them. There might have been nothing visible there, but somehow, he could feel it. It was but a tiny whisper but that was enough. And it turns out, it was right. Out from the black clouds came dozens of dragons, if not more. He briefly noted with amusement that one of them was a Dynasmon as well, but that faded as soon as the apparent leader, an Imperialdramon in Fighter Mode, spoke.

    He quickly decided he didn't like him, though he was willing to give him the benefit of a doubt...maybe.

    Titus quickly stepped forward, his gaze meeting the tall dragon. Homer could see in his peripheral vision that Versa seemed to looking to others, the ones he had fought with since he joined, as if unsure. For whatever reason, he couldn't imagine her being unsure. Or perhaps she was just thinking over what to do next... That was certainly more sensible, and calm, compared to his sister.

    Though, ironically, he was oh so tempted to go up in the front by Goliath's side so that he may try to delegate to him, or at least be among the first few to fight against these dragons should something go wrong, which was likely. But Goliath was the leader, so he should be making the demands and what not. Even if the lion man was hot blooded, he was certainly calmer and more willing to talk things through than, say, Surrak. And his sister had already rushed to the front, now standing behind the Ronin leader.

    So Homer decided to stay further back, but with his body tensed up and ready to fight. Or, if Goliath turns out to be not as calm as he thought, dash to the front so he might try to reason with the group.

    He knew it was unlikely, but by all that was holy, he was going to try.
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  10. #110
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    Dragon Horde Lands
    Goliath Leonhardt - BanchoLeomon


    Imego seemed to almost spit when Titus addressed him. It was not a good sign. Titus had just name-dropped some probably-impressive dragon and this Imego character had sneered like it was nothing. He was beginning to doubt the soundness of seeking out these dragons. Ajax was already a huge pain in his *** and he actually wanted to be involved.

    "We've come to speak with those who call themselves leaders, and free, and powerful," Goliath said, stepping forward and staring up at Imego.

    "Why does the beast speak for dragons?" Imego snapped, glaring down at Titus, Surrak, and Ajax. "Are all three of you as dumb as the small one?" He thrust an extended finger down at Titus. He shook his head. "It's shameful, really."

    "They follow me because I have shown them great strength," Goliath challenged, not breaking eye contact. Years of fighting with and dealing with Ajax had taught him how to respond and act around dragons that were this strictly adherent to their dogma. I would speak to your Dragonlord, the Khan, about what threatens his borders and his territory."

    "You have no right to speak to Dragonlord Karrthus," Imego spat, his brow furrowed. Goliath caught a moment of disdain as he spoke the name. "He is the Khan Who Rises, the Tyrant of Skarrg, Lord of Nastrond. You have no right to demand anything of him, nevermind an audience."

    "Then I propose a challenge," Surrak said, stepping forward. "I challenge you, Imego the Storm's Fury. Ankham. Should I win, you will take us to Dragonlord Karrthus and we will have our talk."

    Goliath had to admire Surrak's strategy: if they displayed power over Imego he would have no choice but to grant them an audience with his ruler...and argue for that audience if Karrthus denied the request.

    "Bah, I know you, Surrak the Dragonclaw. You are a pariah, an exile," Imego scoffed, almost too quickly. He waved off Surrak's challenge. "You have no right to challenge one such as I to ankham. You, who cast off the mantle given to you."

    He was afraid - and why wouldn't he be. Any dramon would be a fool to accept a one-on-one challenge from Surrak.

    "Then I challenge you," Ajax said. He didn't move from his spot, but raised his weapon.

    "You I don't even know," Imego laughed.

    "Then you don't have an excuse to turn down my challenge," Ajax smirked. "Unless you want it known that you, an Imperial, were too afraid to accept a challenge from a nameless Wyvern.

    Goliath almost belly-laughed. Ajax had recognized the same hesitation and fear in Imego. Fear of losing, fear of being seen as weak or lesser. It was always a problem with dragons, and compounded once they were put into positions where strength was exemplified.

    Imego snarled. He launched himself into the air and came crashing down on the rocky earth before the Realmless. Ash and fiery dust went flying from the impact. Goliath stepped back as Ajax strode forward. He motioned for the rest to do the same and give the two dragons some room.

    "Homer, Jericho, Surrak," Goliath growled low, drawing the three of them nearer as Ajax and Imego began circling one another. "Be ready to intervene." He ignored Surrak's snarl of disbelief and anger. "I don't trust this Imego at all. Something about him...it just seems wrong. I know his kind. I wager I've even met him before in another life, if I believed in those things. If he's losing he'll cheat. If that doesn't work, he'll break ankham and we'll have a real fight on our hands."


    Choose your world. Choose your side.

  11. #111
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    "Don't worry, I don't mind," she said, her smile now genuinely happy, touched by his simple gesture. She took a deep breath nonetheless before she continued, looking ahead. "Sunshine was the nickname I gave to a friend of mine, a Seasarmon named Sonnet. As soon as I left the Syndicate, I ended up meeting some Imperial patrols. They attacked and I barely managed to escape. Would've died if Sunshine hadn't found me."
    "I see," Adirael murmured. "Perhaps I could have used a friend like that." His tone was not bitter, but rather melancholy. He had not had friends at any point, not truly, let alone after leaving the Syndicate. Within the Syndicate he was too disgusted by the duplicity and hollowness of their pomp and ceremony, and outside it he hadn't been sure how to act besides opposing the Empire however he could. He hadn't known others fought as he did until he had been tossed into Ironclad and the key placed somewhere it was unlikely to be picked up again.

    Valentina seemed wistful, as though fondly recalling better days. He could not truly relate.

    "She was with a small group of Realmless, even smaller than our ragtag team here. She's dead now though, along with the others. Killed by the D-Brigade." She looked back at Adirael. "But I don't have any hard feelings for them Imperialists. After all, we got a few of 'em with us," she said, gesturing to those in question. Her grin turned amused. "Besides, if Sunshine were here, she'd would probably scold me for not trying to give 'em a chance. And Ray too."
    "My condolences," Adirael said quietly. "I have seen many perish at the hands of the D-Brigade, but I did not truly know them. I merely tried to save them and failed." He paused. "I am new to the concept of fighting against the Empire alongside others, but logic would dictate that we accept help wherever we find it. Although others would suggest that we be wary." He chuckled. "That said, I am sure that many outside the Empire consider us their enemy just as some who once called it home consider us their allies. The world does not seem so black and white, convenient as that might be. We are fighting against an order that has stood for longer than perhaps any who live can remember. Some might say that would make us enemies of the world itself."

    He was silent for a short while. "So I find it reassuring to know now that I am not fighting alone." He smiled at her.

    Before the conversation could continue, dragons descended and demanded an answer for their presence in the fiery lands. Their leader, an Imperialdramon Fighter Mode, Adirael kept one eye on even as he took in the scale of the dragon force. This "Imego" drew his attention for more than raw size and power, though perhaps to a dragon those would be the only considerations. But as Titus challenged him with the name of a dragon (at least he assumed so, Adirael could claim little knowledge of the politics of this realm), Imego's sneering dismissal and the disdain in speaking his leader's name kept Adirael studying him.

    "You I don't even know," Imego laughed.

    "Then you don't have an excuse to turn down my challenge," Ajax smirked. "Unless you want it known that you, an Imperial, were too afraid to accept a challenge from a nameless Wyvern.
    Adirael smirked at that. Even if he did not understand fully the code the dragons lived by, he could see it turned into a cage to bind Imego into a duel with Ajax. But he didn't trust Imego. Something about the dragon seemed deeper than just one obsessed with his pride and honor.

    Judging by Goliath's words to Homer, Jericho and Surrak that Adirael overhead, the BanchoLeomon did not trust Imego either.

    "Met in another life," Adirael chuckled to himself. "What an odd thought." Regardless, he kept two eyes on Imego and scanned the Imperialdramon's troops with the third. He had learned long ago to focus his gaze in two places at once, all the better to be aware of his surroundings.

    ----

    Medraut's hand rested close to his rapier's hilt. Goliath had not responded to him, perhaps distracted by other matters. So the Duftmon had remained quiet the rest of the way to this point, occasionally regarding his new allies to try and gain some insight into them. But it was strange. They were so different to what he knew. He was so used to the single-minded brotherhood of the Legion that he found himself confused by these strangers. Their mannerisms, their social cues, they were things he was still learning. The Legion had its own way of acting, its own way of talking, as it were. He had barely interacted with others outside it, even after his exile. Just brief conversations after violent struggles, often to the tune of 'find somewhere safe and hide'.

    This was new indeed.

    Imego's threatening presence was almost welcome, for this he understood. He was drawing plans in his mind, taking into account the terrain and the composition of both their forces. Medraut was no general, but he had learned enough under the Legion to form a strategy. The dragons had the home field advantage, that was without question. Several of the others around him were clearly very uncomfortable with the sweltering heat, while the dragons probably considered it the equivalent of a pleasant summer breeze. Assuming they appreciated such a thing in their militaristic culture.

    As Imego jumped down to confront Ajax, it reminded Medraut of sparring with his comrades in the Legion. That had been for practice of course, either with blunted weapons or just to first blood. But this seemed decidedly more vicious. And it was about posturing, not improvement, at least from what little he had seen. It seemed wasteful.

    He turned to Titus, who was after all a dragon and would presumably understand better. "What is this ankham, precisely? It reminds me of the duels we would sometimes have within the Legion, but those duels were for honing our skills, and clearly this is not about such a thing."

  12. #112
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    Dragon Horde Lands
    Goliath Leonhardt - BanchoLeomon


    Ajax and Imego were relentless. The charred landscape cracked and heaved under the force of their duel; they left rivers of lava in their wake and filled the air with sparks and flame. Goliath was again reminded of just how good Ajax truly was. It had been some time; the battle against Arcades Sabboth was the last time Goliath had really seen Ajax cut loose. It was harrowing, in a way, to be reminded just how ferocious his old friend was - how much of a dragon he was despite his noble exterior.

    And yet Imego was just as terrible; he struck with unbelievable force and momentum. He was stronger than Ajax by a significant enough margin that Goliath was concerned, and despite his size he was just as fast - if not faster. Every swing of the Dunas was either dodged, blocked, or diverted from vital areas.

    Ajax's saving grace was his skill; he was undoubtedly the better fighter. Imego's strikes were heavy, wild, and telegraphed, and Ajax had a keen enough sense for combat that he knew where and how to position himself to punish Imego for his less-practiced style. All those years training with Ugin were paying off. And if it were just those attributes, Goliath would be confident in Ajax's victory.

    But Imego also held the clear advantage in mobility - he could fly - and power; not just the strength in his limbs, but the sheer force he could unleash at will in his attacks. If Ajax embodied pure draconic ferocity than Imego clearly embodied overwhelming draconic power. Ajax's skill, however great it was, wasn't enough to close that gap. And he needed to. Not just so they could gain access to the Dragonlord, but to survive this duel.

    A stiff kick sent Ajax tumbling backwards and bouncing along the scorched ground. Imego sprung back and leveled his arm-cannon at the dragon warrior. Power and light exploded from the cannon's mouth with a roar and ripped towards Ajax, who barely managed to throw up his left arm before he was overcome in the explosion.

    "Ajax!" Goliath shouted. He stepped forward only to find himself held back by Surrak's outstretched arm.

    "You do not break ankham," the Dragonclaw growled, glaring at him. "Do not disrespect Ajax's blood."

    Goliath turned wildly to the conflagration, waiting to see just what kind of damage the attack had done to his oldest friend. Despite his words, despite his frustration, he didn't want to see Ajax throw away his life on a chance.

    Imego gazed smugly down at the burning rock and glowing mass of flame that encompassed where Ajax once stood. Everything was still for a moment, and Goliath felt his fury welling up. He bared his fangs and prepared to attack - honor be damned - but something caught his eye: a flash of silver and gold, a flutter of bright crimson.

    "Royal Saber!" Ajax shouted from the flames. A bright beam of blue speared from the fire and struck Imego in the chest. The dragon was sent staggering back and Ajax emerged from the flames clad in brilliant silver-and-gold armor - no longer embroidered with sigils and runic ornamentation, but simple, sharp edges and crystal inlays. His left hand held a brilliant shield, blackened by scorch marks but undented. In his right hand, a beam lance glowed furiously.

    Neither combatant spoke another word, they simply charged one another and collided. Goliath watched intently; he'd never seen this form from Ajax - probably one of his tricks he'd picked up since they last spoke - just what had Ugin tasked him with in the last five years?

    Ajax broke Imego's guard and slashed his beam weapon across the larger dragon's exposed arm, eliciting a snarl of pain. Imego struck back with a roar, pummeling Ajax with heavy blows. Ajax was able to bring his shield up between them, but even then Imego's immense strength rolled through its protection and knocked Ajax to his knees. There was a howl and fury and then Imego's cannon lit with energy and fired into Ajax from point blank range.

    Ajax braced his shield against Imego's attack, forcing himself to remain upright as the beam forced him back and raged against his shield. Goliath could see the energy spill around him, splashing against the back of his armor; it grew hotter with each passing second.

    "Shield of the Just!" Ajax roared. The crystalline eye on his shield burst with blinding light and a massive torrent of energy howled forth. It pushed Imego's attack back and slammed into him. The dragon chief sprawled back in an undignified heap and Ajax let his cloak flutter dramatically in the hot winds rolling past him.

    "Yield, Imego," Ajax demanded, striding closer, beam lance at the ready. "It's over."

    And it was - Imego held the advantage in power against Ajax's previous form, but that advantage was rendered almost insignificant when faced with Ajax's Gallantmon X form; it was barely discernable. It then came down to Imego's flight, maneuverability, and speed of motion against Ajax's martial skill and reflexes. Imego could fly circles around Ajax all day, but without the ability to engage him in combat he would never defeat him in ankham.

    "Over? It's over when I say it is," Imego snarled. He moved to stand, but Ajax raised his lance against his throat.

    "Take us to the Dragonlord," Ajax said as he removed the weapon from Imego's face. "By right of combat I demand it. And the Firemind demands it."

    "Demand it? You don't get to demand anything of me, you nameless, bottom-feeder, drakeling!" He whirled about to the dragons behind him. "Kill them all."

    The dragons - a Slayerdramon, a Gaiomon, a Dorugoramon, a Spinomon, an OwRyumon, a Dynasmon, and a WarGreymon - hesitated for a moment before Imego snarled and roared.

    "That's an order!"


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  13. #113
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    Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
    Border of the Dragon Hordes Territory


    Honor seemed to be a big deal with the dragons. Even the one she knew, though he wasn't exactly a full blooded dragon like these hotheads. She was glad of that little fact after seeing Imego and his crew. All their postulating was starting to make this "ankham" thing look less like a honor duel and more like a measure of how big their egos were. Versa didn't know much about honor, but pride? That she was intimately familiar with.

    Still, she had to hand it to Ajax, the man could fight. She actually cheered when he erupted from the flames, newly digivolved and kicking Imego's tail. And, naturally, Imego was far too prideful for his own good. He was down for all of two seconds, Ajax standing over him triumphantly, when the bastard sicced his goon squad on them.

    Versa smiled. These weren't Metal Empire soldiers. No Realmpact to meddle with here. That meant she could go all-out with no reservations.

    The dragons attacked and the Realmless charged out to meet them. Versa lost sight of Ajax and Imego, so however that ended was lost to her for the moment. Instead, she came face to face with a serious looking Gaiomon.

    "You could always retreat." the black dragon offered as he raised his blades.

    "Funny, I was going to make you the same offer." Versa flashed a grin as she raised her pistols. "But I'd hate to miss using you for target practice."

    "Rinkageki!" a bolt of blue lightning tore from the dragon man's swords towards Versa. The BeelStarmon spun on her heel and leaped through the air, dodging the attack and fired a blast from each pistol. The Gaiomon quickly sidestepped, dodging the bullets, and smirked at Versa until a moment later something struck him from behind. The Gaiomon growled as he checked his back only for his claw to come back bloody.

    "Ahahaha." Versa laughed. "My bullets aren't dumb slugs of metal. No, my Fly Bullets know exactly where you're sensitive." She blew him a kiss and leveled her guns. "Wanna dance again?"

    "That trick won't work twice." The Gaiomon said. He launched forward with a burst of surprising speed, trying to close the gap. Versa fired another round of Fly Bullets, but the Gaiomon sidestepped and raised his arm. "Gaia Reactor!" An orb of energy appeared, glowing like a tiny star, before detonating in a powerful blast that obliterated Versa's Fly Bullets. Another volley of bullets fired, then another. But the Gaiomon used his Gaia Reactor to shut both down.

    Versa's brow furrowed as the Gaiomon closed the last few feet and struck with his swords. At the last moment, Versa waved her hands and the trailing ends of her muffler swung in front of her to block the blades. The Gaiomon's swords struck with an audible twang as the fabric became as hard as steel at her command. He pressed down with his draconian strength, trying to force her to the ground.

    "Told you." The Gaiomon looked absolutely pleased with himself. She couldn't help it, she started snickering at him. "What's so funny?"

    "You think you've already won." Versa managed between snickers, "Its adorable."

    Before the Gaiomon could do something besides growl at her the BeelStarmon dove backwards. Her mufflers immediately stopped blocking the Gaiomon's blades as she did and he suddenly found no resistance to his efforts. He stumbled, cursing as he tried to right himself but he was too slow. Versa bounced back off her hands and launched herself into the air. Her hair was a curtain of starlight in the bright sun, her muffler and jacket billowing shadows behind her as she raised her legs and began to spin.

    "Hurricane Screw Shot!" The guns hidden in her heels fired each time they spun to face the Gaiomon peppering him with blows as the dragon man was forced back.

    The Gaiomon managed a Gaia Reactor, the blast dangerously close to Versa's face. Her face was washed with heat as the flash of light nearly blinded her. Her attack faltered and she fell to the ground where she landed nimbly. Her opponent wasn't going to give her another chance. Already the Gaiomon bore down on her, his twin swords glowing with blue light. "Rinkazan!"

    "Double Claw!" blades folded down on the front of her guns as she leaped into the air and over the dragon man's blades. She landed behind him, driving the blades on her guns into the gaps between his shoulder armor, careful not to impale herself on the wicked blades fastened to the dragon man's own armor. Before he could even finish his outcry, Versa had him by the hair, using the Gaiomon's ponytail to flip the dragon over her shoulder where he hit the ground hard, head first. The spike on his helmet stuck fast in the rocky ground.

    The Gaiomon was stuck in an awkward position and struggling to right himself until he heard the twin clicks of Versa's handguns loading more rounds.

    "What's the matter?" she purred, "No need to get all bent out of shape."

    "You'll pay for that." he said as he struggled. Finally, he managed to free himself from the earth. He rolled to his feet only to find the cold barrel of Versa's pistol pressing into the bottom of his jaw, one end of her muffler wrapped firmly around each of his swords.

    "What was that? You yield?" she said with a grin. "Aw, you shouldn't have."

    ---

    Jericho Arcos (RustTyranomon)
    Border of the Dragon Hordes Territory


    "You think you can take me, machine?" The Spinomon roared as Jericho stepped up to face him. "You're not even a real dragon, just a metal fake."

    "Oh?" Jericho's gears and joints creaked as he stretched to his full, rather impressive height. "I think you'll find me more than a worthy opponent. Jericho Arcos does not bow easily."

    The Spinomon let out a low growl. "Is that supposed to impress me?"

    "It used to work." Jericho said with a shrug. "The name doesn't seem to carry as much weight as it once did."

    "Well," The Spinomon roared, "At least now I know what to carve on your grave!" The huge dinosaur charged with force and fury, cracking the earth with each mighty step. Jericho braced himself, claws open to intercept. The two giants hit with a clash, the Spinomon's raw power against Jericho's indomitable resistance.

    The Spinomon managed to inch Jericho back. The RustTyranomon's feet dug trenches in the earth as he gave up ground. With a roar his opponent tried to wrench him sideways, but Jericho forcefully ducked bringing the huge cannon on his back slamming into the Spinomon's head hard enough to split stone. Finally free, Jericho took a moment to regain his solid footing as his opponent reeled from the blow.

    "Dammit, that hurt." the Spinomon snarled.

    "Looks like I'll need your name." Jericho said.

    "Strom." The dinosaur clenched his claws in anger. "Not that it'll do you any good. Sonic Slash Rain!" The blades on Strom's back shot out like javelins, each one a huge and deadly slab of razor sharp steel. Strom was too close, there was no time to dodge. Not that Jericho had that much mobility yet.

    The RustTyranomon tried to cover his vitals as best he could. A few of the blades bounced off his thick plate armor, the rusted metal sturdy enough to take that beating and more. But one caught him right in the hip joint and Jericho roared with pain as the blade pierced something important and boiling oil began to drip down his leg. The pain was like fire in his veins after so long without any real sensations. It was galvanizing and terrible all at once, a surge of feeling in circuits that had long lay dormant.

    "Is that all you've got old man?" Strom said as he slowly backed up, getting a little more space between them for his next move. "Any last words?" Blue fire was surging between his fangs even as he finished the sentence.

    "Only two." Jericho said, feeling the power flood his body. The energy grew and grew, condensing into the coils of his gargantuan cannon. "Terror's Cluster!"

    "Blue Prominence!"

    A torrent of superheated plasma tore forth from the Spinomon's mouth, scorching the earth as it threatened to melt Jericho into slag. At the same time, a massive blast of electromagnetic energy shot form Jericho's cannon, crackling with all the fury of a thunder god's lightning. The energies hit halfway between the two with a blast powerful enough to tear open the earth. Dust and stones and molten rock and clusters of super charged plasma tore out from the epicenter of the blast hiding the two dinosaurs, one flesh and one metal, in a cloud of destruction.

    When the debris and dust and ash finally settled, the two dinosaurs were standing on opposite ends of a partially molten crater, the rock glowing red hot from the sheer power that had been unleashed upon it. Both bore scars. Jericho was pocketed with burns and scrapes and dents and jagged lines where the electrical energies had tried to spot weld him. Strom was not the beneficiary of sturdy metallic armor, and bore many cuts and scrapes and a few shards of rock or metal protruding from his scaly hide.

    "Not bad, for a machine." Strom said.

    "Not bad yourself, for a bag of flesh." Jericho taunted, trying to goad him on. The blade that had been impaled in his hip had mostly melted away in the blast, and Jericho ripped what was left out with a screech of metal on metal and tossed the oil-stained shard to the dirt.

    The Spinomon growled but didn't fall for the taunt. So he had some smarts after all. Jericho took the first steps, lumbering towards the Spinomon as he built up speed. Strom charged in to meet him, the two locking claws again in the middle of the red hot crater.

    "Once my Blue Prominence recharges, you're toast." Strom said.

    "Too late." Jericho said quietly. "This battle is already over."

    "What did you-" Strom said before finding his head firmly grasped in Jericho's massive jaws. The RustTyranomon threw the Spinomon to the ground, roaring as his jaws came free. Anticipating the Sonic Slash Rain Strom was already preparing to fire, Jericho lifted one massive foot and slammed it into his opponent's exposed ribs, turning him completely sideways and sending his Sonic Rain Storm blades firing off into the side of the crater.

    With one last effort, Jericho opened his maw wide as he felt the heat welling up inside him. "Rust Breath!" The stream of scarlet flames washed over the Spinomon, rusting the blades that remained to his back and bathing him in a blazing inferno as the rock beneath him threatened to melt into full blown lava. Finally, he relented, once he was sure the Spinomon wouldn't jump back to his feet.

    "Surrender." Jericho offered. "You fight bravely, I don't wish to end you."
    Last edited by TheSequelReturns; 21st July 2017 at 4:35 AM.
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  14. #114
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    Titus Cloudraker (Saviorhuckmon)
    Dragon Horde Lands


    "Homer, Jericho, Surrak," Goliath growled low, drawing the three of them nearer as Ajax and Imego began circling one another. "Be ready to intervene."

    Titus grimaced inwardly. No, the idea of intervening in an Ankam challenge probably didn’t faze him nearly as much as it did for Surrak. His upbringing had been different in the Hordes. Even his own father had once flaunted the ancient tradition by turning an Ankam,in the middle of the fight, into a courtship display upon meeting his mother in the fighting pits. No, the life of their comrade and their mission weighed more heavily on his mind than the combat ritual, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

    More than anything, Titus wished to prove his worth to stand alongside the BanchoLeomon as an equal; to be called upon without hesitation when the need arise. Though not one to brag, Titus couldn’t deny that part of his draconic self to perfect his skills and body. For others to recognise his strength and earn their respect.

    Ajax and Imego began their intense clash. Titus studied Ajax with growing admiration. He’d sought to speak with the crimson knight previously, but it didn’t come to pass with the Metal Empire in stubborn pursuit. A form appeared in the silver dragon’s peripherals. Medraut, the Duftmon, turned to the silver dragon knight. "What is this ankham, precisely? It reminds me of the duels we would sometimes have within the Legion, but those duels were for honing our skills, and clearly this is not about such a thing."

    Titus kept his steady gaze forward for a moment on the circling combatants before glancing to the side to acknowledge Medraut’s inquiry. “A clash of draconic nature in purest form. An expression of the skills we’ve honed and strength gained as we embraced our inner fury: The Firemind. Only strength is respected and recognized among the hordes. So often, Ankam is declared to gain rank and stature or to settle disputes. In the eyes of the dragons, we must earn the right to meet with the Khan by proving our strength. Only then will they take us seriously.”

    Ajax and Imego clashed together, tearing up the surrounding landscape. Titus watched on with the rest of the Realmless on edge. His blood roared and his inner fire stirred at the ferocity of the MediveilGallantmon and Imperialdramon. With a steel will, Titus continued to watch the duel with silent regard. The battle almost become hypnotic to him; an alluring call to him to dance, to jab, to swing in tandem with those who’d become his opponent and overcome them. A dancing blade to leap across the smoldering ground. He did not wield his swords, no, he was the blade. A living weapon.

    Titus jerked his head furiously to shake the feeling. The Firemind. Never before did he feel it so strongly. He thought: it would be so easy to surrender himself to it.

    "Ajax!" The silver-white dragon tensed at Goliath’s shout for the crimson knight, when Imego’s cannon blast struck and created a floating cloud of debris. He held his breath waiting, his keen eyes squinting at the early signs of building energies from the epicenter.

    "Royal Saber!"

    The SaviorHuckmon’s pulse quicken with excitement. Ajax emerged from the fiery inferno in a new and gleaming form - Gallantmon X. Titus lowered his goggles over his sensitive eyes as the combatants collided with overflowing energies from their attacks.

    The dragon knight roared a cheer as Ajax finally beat back Imego with a surprising "Shield of the Just!"

    The Imperialdramon FM laid in a heap at the end of Ajax’s lance. They spoke, but they were too far for Titus to hear clearly. However, the hostile intention in Imego’s eyes were clear as day and seemed he wouldn’t accept the loss graciously (yea right).

    "Demand it? You don't get to demand anything of me, you nameless, bottom-feeder, drakeling!" Imego whirled about to the dragons behind him. "Kill them all."

    The mixed force of dragons hesitated for a moment before Imego snarled and roared.

    "That's an order!"
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  15. #115
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    “A clash of draconic nature in purest form. An expression of the skills we’ve honed and strength gained as we embraced our inner fury: The Firemind. Only strength is respected and recognized among the hordes. So often, Ankam is declared to gain rank and stature or to settle disputes. In the eyes of the dragons, we must earn the right to meet with the Khan by proving our strength. Only then will they take us seriously.”
    Medraut nodded in acknowledgement of the explanation. He considered it. Things were not so in the Legion. The hierarchy was defined, as firm as adamant. There was promotion, of course, but it was earned through one's merit and according to protocol, not usually through so simple a thing as a display of strength, though there were exceptions as the Legion's Warleader proved. And having to prove one's strength to meet with a superior was madness, surely. It spoke of arrogance, of the dismissal of others as inferior. As a soldier of the Legion, he had been taught that he was one of a thousand, that those beneath him in rank were still deserving of his respect and acknowledgement as comrades in arms. Everyone was important in their own particular way and were awarded respect due to their individual importance.

    These dragons were strange indeed.

    "Your culture values only strength?" he queried. "No consideration is given to tactical acumen, to wisdom, or to any other measure of worth? One's prowess in personal combat is all that is measured?" His incredulity shone through, for he found it horribly simplistic and brutal.

    Before he could pursue the subject further, Ajax evolved to a higher form and the Duftmon was silenced by awe. The Gallantmon X gleamed with power and light, a knightly presence the match of any he had seen within the Legion's ranks. For a moment he forgot that Ajax was as much as a dragon as those opposite, at least in blood and creed, before Imego was hurled away by the fury of the Shield of the Just and pinned at the point of Ajax's lance. The martial prowess on display drew his eyes like a magnet attracting iron. The precision of it was astounding and he wished to spar with the knightly dragon, to hone himself sword against lance.

    Then Imego's roar of fury and defiance sounded out.

    "Demand it? You don't get to demand anything of me, you nameless, bottom-feeder, drakeling!" He whirled about to the dragons behind him. "Kill them all."

    The dragons - a Slayerdramon, a Gaiomon, a Dorugoramon, a Spinomon, an OwRyumon, a Dynasmon, and a WarGreymon - hesitated for a moment before Imego snarled and roared.

    "That's an order!"
    ----

    "Ah, I thought you might be that sort of person," Adirael murmured as Imego bellowed for his subordinates to strike. The Beelzemon X drew his shotguns as the dragons surged against the Realmless, clearly conflicted between the demands of honor and their leader's command. The WarGreymon came right at him like an orange-armored bullet, Dramon Destroyers ready to cut.

    Adirael danced back as the claws slashed.

    "You would allow him to trample over your creed?" the Beelzemon X commented. "I had the impression that you dragons were rather passionate about your honor and this ankham of yours."

    The WarGreymon chose not to dignify him with a response. How uncouth.

    "Terra Force!" the dragonman snarled, conjuring an orb of flames between his claws and hurling it at Adirael. The demon dodged to the side with a beat of his wings, feeling the howling fire singe the leather coating his legs.

    "Double Impact," he answered as he soared, shotguns roaring. The slugs hammered into the WarGreymon's plate, sparking from the Chrome Digizoid. Adirael landed gracefully atop a rock formation and moved like water, pushing off of the volcanic rock to shoot at his adversary like a bullet. More slugs flew from the Berenjena as he approached, forcing the WarGreymon to guard his eyes from the volleys. Adirael sheathed one shotgun and flexed his claws. In a vicious motion he struck.

    "Darkness Claw."

    "Brave Shield!" the WarGreymon answered, assembling his shield and blocking the slash of Adirael's talons. Unfazed, Adirael continued, flipping upward with a downward beat of his wings and kicking under the shield. As the blow forced the plate upwards, he rolled back and the Berenjena in his hand found its mark.

    "Double Impact!" he called with a smile. Two slugs howled from the shotgun and found the WarGreymon's thigh, penetrating the scales and drawing blood. The dragonman snarled and as Adirael landed, the Brave Shield broke apart and became his wings, the Dramon Destroyers lunging for the Beelzemon X's skull. Adirael weaved around them, feeling their blades pass within an inch of his mask, then he brought his free hand around and his claws found the gap between chestplate and shoulderpad, ripping into the WarGreymon's armpit. He clenched his talons and scales ardulously gave way, torn with the knife-like edges of the Beelzemon'x talons. Still the WarGreymon showed no sign of pain.

    "I asked you if you would allow Imego to trample over your creed," Adirael said, as though he were not engaged in such a dangerous brawl. He ripped his claws free and before the WarGreymon could strike again, he was dancing back out of reach. He couldn't match the dragon in raw strength, that was true, but he was lighter and faster by far.

    "This is a battle, demon!" the WarGreymon snarled. "Hold your tongue or I shall rip it out and see how you sing without it!"

    Adirael chuckled. "How uncouth and vicious. You might almost make a good member of the Syndicate." He held up his empty hand, his white claws stained with dragon blood. "You hold your ankham and your Firemind so highly. I wonder what would happen if your Dragonlord were to learn how you spat upon both, Imego's orders or not."

    "Be silent!" The dragonman roared and charged, whirling like a cyclone of blades. "Great Tornado!" He raged across the rocky hellscape at Adirael, his Dramon Destroyers prepared to eviscerate the Beelzemon.

    The demon leapt skyward, wings spread wide, and he passed over the WarGreymon. Once more he swung around in mid-air, spinning himself to land 'behind' his opponent, and as he fell his shotgun fired. Some slugs were sliced from the air by the spinning claws, but others found their marks, piercing exposed scales. The WarGreymon came to a stop, facing Adirael once again. The Beelzemon faced forward, diving around the WarGreymon's Terra Force with graceful leaps and beats of his wings. Snarling, the WarGreymon surged into melee, Dramon Destroyers gleaming as they slashed at the demon. One connected, ripping into Adirael's arm and drawing blood, but he continued regardless. His claws dug into scales and forced the dragonman's arm away, while he brought the Berenjena up to his opponent's throat armor.

    "You know your bullets can't penetrate Chrome Digizoid," the dragonman scoffed.

    "Oh, not your full plate, certainly," Adirael conceded. "But the fact that you're so still makes me suspect that you're not so sure if the more flexible segments of your armor can stop a point-blank shot. Flexibility requires a compromise of structural integrity." He paused to let his words sink in. "

    "If you're so certain," the WarGreymon growled, "then put your theory to the test. Aren't you a demon?"

    Adirael chuckled. "I'm a demon. That much is true. I'm a vicious killer, a vile manipulator, a cackling fiend who drags the innocent into wickedness. Is that the image you had in mind?" He stopped laughing. "But we did not come here to slay dragons. We did not come here to fight dragons. We came here to talk about many things, and in particular that which threatens your Dragonlord's domain."

    "Yes, it seems that talk is what you do very well," his adversary spat. "Sheathe your silver tongue and either slay me or release me. You can do nothing else."

    "Yield," the Beelzemon replied, and his tone was colder. "I am not here to coat the rocks with your brains. But do not think that I will hesitate if you force my hand." He tightened his claw on the Berenjena's trigger to emphasise his point. It was his gun arm that had been cut, but the pain of the wound did nothing to weaken his grip.

    ----

    As the dragons approached, Medraut drew his rapier. The Duftmon glanced across the opposition and picked out his opponent. Spreading his angelic wings, he leapt forward and glided to intercept them.

    The OwRyumon halted as he landed, staring at the knight incredulously.

    "One of the Eternal Legion so far from Sunhome," he scoffed. "And what, little knight, brings you to our land?"

    "I am Medraut the Exiled," the Duftmon answered. "I am not of the Legion... not any longer. But I fight for justice! And my comrades do as well, so I will follow them in search of it."

    "How amusing," the OwRyumon replied, spreading his bladed wings and readying his scimitars. "I am Rorix Bladewing, little knight. Servant of Dragonlord Karrthus. I roar with the Firemind and I will lay your blood upon the rocks as a warning to fools who would copy your folly and trespass within our realm!"

    "So be it," Medraut said softly, and brought up his rapier.

    Rorix was on him in an instant with a snarl of "Golden Armor!" His wings slashed the rocks as he charged, slicing shards of stone that clattered to the ground. But the Duftmon did not move until the last moment, ducking around the sweep of a scimitar and meeting the second with his rapier. Metal screamed on metal, but Medraut's blade held, supported by both of his hands. Rorix growled and swung his free blade, but Medraut dodged to the side, moving again an instant later to avoid a swing of the released scimitar that could have cut him in two if it connected. White light ignited from Medraut's blade as he fell back.

    "Extinction Wave!" he called, and painted an arc of light across the air. The arc flew at Rorix, cleaving across his mighty scales and burning against them before dissipating. The dragon swung around and took flight, scimitars gleaming with vicious light as he brought them to bear.

    "How does your 'justice' compare to my might, little knight?" Rorix taunted as he charged once more. His wings cut the air, but Medraut was still once again. He looked at Rorix, read the dragon's motions. Up until now he had been fighting blind to the OwRyumon's style, but he began to see it. He saw muscles tense and as the scimitar arced to take his head, he was moving. It passed where he had been, sweeping past his wing, and as Rorix snarled and his follow-up came down, the Duftmon beat his wings and ascended. This time a dark aura burned on his blade and he thrust with it like it was Ajax's lance.

    "Black Aura Blast!" A beam of dark light speared from the rapier and burned into Rorix's face before exploding. The dragon recoiled, howling in rage, and when the blast cleared and he could see, Medraut was gone. The Duftmon dived beneath Rorix and his rapier ripped into the softer scales of the OwRyumon's underbelly. Blood welled from the wound as Medraut continued. "Extinction Wave!" He stabbed into the wound he had already inflicted as the light burst from his sword, and Bladewing roared in pain and fury as it seared his innards. The OwRyumon thrashed and his tail cracked like a whip, catching Medraut and sending him flying from beneath the dragon. He struck an outcropping with a cry of pain and crumpled to the ground. The blow had been ferocious and unexpected. Don't get cocky. Don't grow overconfident.

    He rolled as Rorix's scimitars crashed down one after another, using the momentum to launch himself into a crouch and from that into the air. The dragon's blades swung, scimitars and wings alike slicing around him. One wing was sliced and white feathers passed his vision.

    "Tell me, little knight, what is this 'justice' you talk about?" Rorix taunted as he faced Medraut. "I see demons in your group, and machines too. What 'justice' do you share with them?"

    "A common cause," he murmured. "The Realmpact is injustice."

    Rorix stared at him and for a moment, Medraut thought that impossibly he had caused some profound revelation before the OwRyumon broke into thunderous rumbling laughter. "A knight of the Legion calling the Realmpact injustice? I knew you were bold to the point of foolish but I did not realise you were insane."

    He considered arguing the point. Perhaps he could find the words. Perhaps this dragon could be convinced.

    Rorix stopped laughing. "I wonder what your brothers and sisters think of that opinion of yours. Or is that why you are "the Exiled"?" His words were like knives digging into Medraut, dredging up the painful memory of that dark day.

    "The Realmpact is injustice? What is this blasphemy you speak, Medraut?"

    "Look around you, please! Look at what the Metal Empire has done! Look at these people! Is this justice, brother?" He turned desperately, staring at Valenco. She would listen. She was always the one who listened. But her eyes burned as fiercely as the others' and she spoke.

    "Listen to yourself, Medraut. You swore to uphold the Realmpact! To defend the Realmpact and enforce the Realmpact! And now you say it is unjust? Have you taken leave of your senses?" She drew her sword.

    "Valenco... all of you..."

    "You must answer for this," she said, and the others around her drew their weapons. "We must take you to Sunhome to answer for your words, Medraut Dawnlight. You have spoken against the Realmpact and thus you have spoken against the Eternal Legion!"


    "Golden Armor!"

    Only instinct saved him. He weaved through the maelstrom of Rorix's blades, crying out as a scimitar cut into his back in passing, and again when one of the dragon's wings caught his shoulder. Blood seeped from the wounds, staining his armor as he forced himself to turn and meet the OwRyumon.

    "Did I remind you of a painful memory?" Rorix sneered. "I suppose your brothers and sisters would not take kindly to you denouncing their life's purpose. Did they exile you or did you exile yourself, I wonder."

    He remembered fighting that desperate battle with them. He was the better swordsman, but they had numbers and passion, and it had taken all his skill to stop them without killing them. He couldn't bring himself to that. They were his brothers and sisters and he had fought too many battles at their side to cut them down.

    "Eiseiryūoujin!" A volley of blades were sent at him with two sweeps of Bladewing's swords, slicing through the air with their lethal edges. He saw them coming and it was like parrying arrows. He weaved through some, meeting more with his rapier. One passed his guard and he twisted in time to dodge it. He forced the memories from his mind and hardened himself, loosing himself to his training. Wings spread and he leapt forward. Blackness flowed through his rapier.

    "Black Aura Blast!" Bladewing's scimitar was swinging, but a black lance shot from Medraut's rapier and detonated on the dragon's hand, forcing the arm back as Medraut continued with an arc of burning light. "Extinction Wave!" The blade swung and the wave of light slashed at Rorix's face. The OwRyumon brought up a scimitar with a snarl, parrying it, and Medraut came down like a spear and his rapier burned with darkness. "Black Aura Blast!"

    His blow slammed into Rorix's neck and exploded at point-blank. He felt the heat and power of his attack rush into him and propel him back as Bladewing recoiled too. The two halted at the same time, regaining stability with their wings. Rorix's muscles tightened and Medraut read them, seeing the swing before it fell as well as the lash of that mighty tail. He threw himself to the side to dodge the first and the second passed him too as he landed. His rapier lashed out and glowed white, raking an upward arc across the scales. The point cut into the weaker armor on Rorix's underside before sparking from the stronger mail of the dragon's upper half. The tail swung like a whip, but the Duftmon jumped above it and hovered as Rorix too regained his footing.

    "You are beginning to irritate me, little knight," Bladewing growled. "I shall grant you that."

    Medraut did not answer, but merely settled back into a combat stance, rapier ready to attack or parry as needed.

    With a snarl, the OwRyumon lunged once again, and Medraut met him with a call of "Black Aura Blast!"

  16. #116
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    Dragon Horde Lands
    Surrak Dragonclaw - WarGreymon X


    "Your culture values only strength? No consideration is given to tactical acumen, to wisdom, or to any other measure of worth? One's prowess in personal combat is all that is measured?"
    "All the tactics in the world won't do you any good when your enemy is beating you into the ground, beating your skull to pulp with your own severed arms," Surrak laughed back. "When you prance about in formation and march and call ranks and play games of fighting maybe all that stuff seemed important. But here? All you have is fire and blood. You will spill both. The only tactic is choosing which of those is yours."

    "These dragons are single-minded," Goliath almost-laughed, watching Ajax's battle intently. "They don't have much mind for war, but they have mind for a fight more than any other."

    ==\=/==

    Dragon Horde Lands
    Goliath Leonhardt - BanchoLeomon


    And then, of course, everything went belly-up. Imego was a coward - Ajax had pegged him so when their groups stumbled across one another - and his impending defeat at the hands of this "nameless, bottom-feeding drakeling" pushed him over the edge. His horde was certainly hesitant to break the bonds of ankham and attack, but loyalty won over and they did, charging into battle amongst a chorus of roars.

    Except...it seemed to lack the draconic ferocity typical of the Hordes. They were downright reserved by comparison.

    At least until they started fighting. Once the fight took over so did the Firemind. And all else - all questions of honor and rules and all that "nonsense" - was replaced by the sheer instinct and rush of combat.

    There were howls of draconic fury and excitement as Surrak slammed into a tall Dynasmon. Sparks and flares spilled out onto the already-burning earth. They were mirrors - eyes wild and furious, blind to everything else around them. Surrak threw a hard jab, but the Dynasmon caught it in mid-strike and drove them both hard to the ground. Goliath backed away - Surrak could handle himself.

    He turned and charged, leaping through the fray of combat and landing a hard blow to Imego's chin. It sent the Imperialdramon spinning through the air.

    "I had him," Ajax objected, stepping forward with his lance and shield at the ready.

    "Yes, but you were taking too long and all the other dragons were taken," Goliath shot back. He wasn't about to let Ajax have all the fun; and he couldn't help but ruffle the dragon's scales all the same.

    ==\=/==

    Dragon Horde Lands
    Jaeger Rhimewind - MetalGarurumon X


    He dipped through the air, a flash of blue and chrome as he wove between attacks. It was risky, sure, flying so daringly in unknown skies with zero visibility and attacks flashing past his nose every two seconds. But Jaeger was a precision fighter - he had to make sure the situation was right before he just charged in blindly.

    Below, Surrak and the Dynasmon clashed. Ajax and Goliath faced down Imego. Titus battled a Slayerdramon. Jericho fought a Spinomon. Adirael fought a WarGreymon. Medraut dueled an OwRyumon. Versa Victa, the Beelstarmon had the Gaiomon in some sort of makeshift hold and - almost - at her mercy. Jaeger noticed a flaw in her maneuver, as did her opponent.

    She should have bound his wrists instead of his blades. The Gaiomon released his weapons and drove himself violently against her. Her shot went wide, sparking against the side of his horned helm and he carried her down into the molten rock below.

    Jaeger ran some quick calculations, wondering if demons - like dragons - could survive those kinds of temperatures. They were called "infernal" after all - having to do with the underworld and hell. After some quick math, however, Jaeger decided he'd rather not risk the possibility of that being happenstance and nomenclature rather than an intrinsic characteristic.

    He swooped down and grabbed both fighters before throwing them haphazardly to the cliff above. The Gaiomon snarled as he rose, but Jaeger slammed him with a barrage of freezing missiles and drove him backwards.

    "I don't know how my idiot apprentice found himself thrown in with your lot," he said, glaring over at Surrak and the Dynasmon. "Demons and machine-beasts. How far he's fallen. I can't imagine what led him to this point."

    "He's stalling," Jaeger said to Versa as they faced off against him. "Hoping to figure out a way to get back to his weapons. He is several minutes from realizing that it is pointless."

    "Bah. Of course it's pointless," the Gaiomon growled. "I don't need weapons to defeat you."

    "Possible. You're a skilled hand-to-hand combatant and you trained Surrak, which means you have the mental and emotional fortitude to withstand even the most hopeless of situations," Jaeger deadpanned. The Gaiomon coughed out a laugh. "However, your forces are outnumbered, outpowered, and - most importantly - you have all already lost.

    "The moment Imego broke ankham he yielded the field," Jaeger continued. "The Firemind does not favor cowardice in the face of defeat."

    "What do you know of the Firemind, metal wolf?" the Gaiomon snarled.

    "I'm quite familiar with your idiot apprentice - it's an apt description, I'll admit," Jaeger said. "He's taught me much about this place. Yourself included, Theron. So I know you're not a fool nor are you so beholden to the fickle whims of one Digimon that you would sacrifice all sense in his defense."


    Choose your world. Choose your side.

  17. #117
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    Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
    Fighting Dragons


    Versa smirked at the Gaiomon she had in her grasp. He had proven to be a crafty opponent, that much was true, but it remained to be seen just how skilled he was. She tapped the barrel of her gun against his jaw bone, ready to deliver another taunting one-liner, but the Gaiomon knew how to read a moment.

    Almost too quickly, the Gaiomon was free of her grasp, his swords dangling uselessly from Versa's muffler as he ducked and went for a full body tackle. Bang! Chink! The bullet grazed the side of the black dragon's helm as he connected with all the might he could muster in such a brief moment.

    And then Versa was falling.

    The trailing silver threads of her hair filled her peripheral vision even as the Gaiomon's bulk filled the rest of it. She was blind and unable to get her muffler to form into wings. The last thing she heard was the twin clangs of the Gaiomon's blades hitting the ledge above before her world became fire.

    Versa had known fire before. Had felt the heat of molten furnaces and the warm blast of air from explosives and draconian breath alike. But this sea of molten stone was hotter still. The heat was everything. It threatened to melt the skin from her bones, to reduce her to ash and dust and cinders and send whatever was left burning down into the depths of the earth. She dared not breathe nor open her eyes to the magma. She could feel the Gaiomon, still trying to hold fast, trying to drown her in this lake of fire. And then, as quickly as it had come the fire was gone.

    Air, glorious air, filled her lungs and she opened her eyes to find herself flying up towards a nearby ledge. The BeelStarmon adjusted her angle and landed nimbly, the Gaiomon landing somewhat more roughtly to her right. He snarled but before the Gaiomon could act he was blasted by a barrage of freezing missiles that sent him skidding back.

    The MetalGarurumon X she had flirted with earlier, Jaeger, landed beside her, his metallic hide still slightly aglow from his brush with the lava. She spit a wad of molten rock from her mouth and turned to face her rescuer. "Guess you're my hero for today. Hope you weren't expecting a kiss."

    Jaeger and the Gaiomon took a moment to trade words, which thankfully gave Versa enough time to shake that crispy feeling of her volcanic swim. It seemed like the Gaiomon was responsible for training Surrak. Well, small world. The talk then turned into prattling on about the Firemind or some such dragon lore. Yawn. At least now she knew the black dragon's name.

    "Not that this isn't fascinating and all," Versa said as she twirled a pistol around her finger, "But weren't we in the middle of something?" She stopped the gun with a Bang! as a bullet ricocheted off the rocks between the Gaiomon, Theron's, feet.

    "Two against one and you don't even have a sword to raise. Pity." She leveled her guns at the dragon man. "I have to give you credit, you're a crafty one. But I'll bet your Gaia Reactor can't stop my Fly Bullets and his missiles," she said with a nod towards Jaeger, "or do you really want to try it?"

    Theron looked between the two opponents then he cast a glance across the ridge where his swords lay useless to him.

    "Now yield." Versa said sharply. "And this time, I want an apology too."
    ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
    Current RP Project -> Devil Survivor: The Manhattan Lockdown V2.0 (Sign-Ups)

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  18. #118
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    Titus Cloudraker (Saviorhuckmon)
    Dragon Horde Lands


    Chaos reigned. Titus dashed into the heart of the battlefield. His sword arms raised in attack. A serpent-shape shadow arched towards in the corner of his vision. The dragon knight pivoted, bringing his right sword to parry. A loud clang erupted as the extensible Fragarach greatsword collided and retracted from the swift strike. Titus fully faced his opponent. A gruff Slayerdramon with a threadbare and ragged cape swaggered before the SaviorHuckmon.

    “So, you’ve chosen me to your opponent, then?” Titus called calmly, though his blood boiled with growing excitement. “Then let us match our Fires in battle.”

    The mega level dragon knight snorted, eying Titus’s pristine form critically and scoffed, “This is a joke. An unblooded dragon thinks he can match my Fury? Don’t insult me!”

    “I am the Swift Blade of Imperia. I’ve known strife and conflict beyond the borders of our land.” Titus stated resolutely. “I am no stranger to combat for the Code calls me to defend the helpless and stop their oppressors.”

    “So you really are Rheagos’s brat? I’d recognized that old dragon’s drivel anywhere. Than show me...child!” The Slayerdramon roared. “And prepare yourself to fail.”

    The two silver dragons charged, dust and rocks flying through the air. Before their blades met, the Slayerdramon stopped suddenly in a calculated move and swung the Fragarach in a wide arc between them. Titus redirected his forward momentum into a slower slide, crossing both arm blades to protect himself from the extending greatsword. The younger dragon grunted, fighting against the immense pressure on his arms. The Fragarach retracted finally allowing Titus to jump back to put space between the two dragons.

    Titus would have marveled at the incredible skill the Slayerdramon used to wield the Fragarach with such ease. But the SaviorHuckmon barely had time to think such thoughts as he narrowly ducked, weaved, and parried the elastic sword. Meanwhile, the Slayerdramon remained stationary pivoting on one leg to change direction to counter the young dragon’s attempts. A circling trench was dug out in the loose dirt from the Slayerdramon’s ever shifting leg.

    Using the rugged wall of a rocky cliffside, the Saviorhuckmon sprinted to build momentum to run up the rock formation. He leapt high into the smoldering air just as the Fragarach swung sideways where Titus had just been moments before. Twisting mid air, the younger dragon knight descended bladed foot first inside the Slayerdramon’s guard. “RAGE STREIT!”

    A raised gauntlet met Titus’s attack with an awful rendering of metal, but the protected forearm held its position upon impact; blood dripped through the gashed armor. When his feet hit the ground, Titus immediately drove forward in an offensive stance. “Trident Saber!”

    Both arm blades cleaved forward, one after another, striking the same guarding gauntlet. Titus twirled in a tight circle to complete the combo with the his red tailblade. Fragarach intercepted the final strike on its return motion. The Slayerdramon gripped the greatsword in both hands and slashed at Titus’s back. The Saviorhuckmon dropped to the ground. His cape torn from the Fragarach snagging the fabric and pulling. The younger dragon rolled away on side and quickly recovered to his feet.

    “Not bad... for a fledging,” the Slayerdramon sneered, skillfully arcing his sword to force Titus back once again. The SaviorHuckmon growled, despite his last hit, he knew the Slayerdramon was toying with him. “But skill will only take you so far…”

    The Slayerdramon suddenly changed tactics and whipped the sword away. The Slayerdramon bolted forward and plunged a hard fist low into Titus’s lower abdomen and threw the Saviorhuckmon’s body into the red rock formations. The young dragon groaned, but was cut off when an armored boot kicked him in the side brutally.

    “Pathetic. You’re no true dragon!” The larger dragon taunted, pressing Titus relentlessly. “Who do you think you are? How can you overcome my Fury, when you are so weak-willed?! You have no embrace in the Firemind!”

    The Slayerdramon lifted Titus by his breastplate and smashed a fist in the right side of younger dragon’s face. He let Titus fall limp to the ground. The larger dragon grasped firmly the hilt of the greatsword and struck downward for a final blow.

    The Fragarach flew with great might, but silver claws rose and halted the deadly sword. A grasping Titus knelt before the Slayerdramon with his head down. Holding the sword away from his recovering body, the Saviorhuckmon raised his armored head.

    A inner fire danced in Titus’s golden eyes. Blood dripped from the side of his mouth, as he held the Fragarach firmly in his clawed hands. “True, I have not fully embraced the Firemind, but I have...I am more than that! The sacred Code entrusted to me by my horde chief, Rheagos, the faith of my friends and comrades. And..”

    Titus gritted his teeth and staggered to his bladed feet, “ and I am the son of Thoreau and Kara Cloudraker. Their Fury and Fire made one.”

    The Slayerdramon’s eyes widen slightly, a flash of guilt passed over his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He stepped back into a defensive stance, surprisingly allowing the Saviorhuckmon the next move.

    The young dragon knight pressed himself onward, the primary crystal on his armor flickered with an inner radiance. Words...words he did not know came unbeckoned from his lips with a low whisper.

    “I am the bone of my sword..”

    The Fragarach clashed with a jarring clang! But Titus did not yield.

    “..and the honor of my horde!”

    The Slayerdramon’s face unreadable. “Tenryūzanha!’ He cried with fervor.

    The Fragarach sailed straight for him. The world slowed down around Titus, so sharp his focus had become. He could see the Fragarach’s eccentric path and the ways through it. The Saviorhuckmon side-stepped to the right, the greatsword cleaved the ground with a great shudder within inches of Titus.

    “Steel is my body..”

    Titus swept himself around. All three of his blades met with the Fragarach at different points and at different times, attacking and defending simultaneously. The blue glow grew more radiant with each passionate strike.

    “...and Fire is my blood.”

    Both dragon knights clashed in a heated roar. Their silver armor glinted red and orange from the fire and magma around them. Titus’s arm blades blazed with the brilliant blue/white light emanating from the primary gem on his chest armor.

    “Chaos flee before the cleansing flood! I pray!

    The Slayerdramon was forced to take a step back, when the blue light flared and engulfed Titus.

    “Exalted Knight Evolution! Jesmon!”

    The older dragon blocked the blinding light from his eyes and dropped his arm when the newly evolved Dragon Knight emerged forth.

    The Slayerdramon’s expression soften for but a moment and a proud grin appeared. “That’s more like it.”
    Last edited by Solsabre; 12th August 2017 at 3:27 PM. Reason: Cleaning up descriptions for a more dramatic effect.
    Anything is possible...apart from skiing through a revolving door.

    Image Credit goes to Kamotz

    I am the bone of my sword, and the seed of my Horde. Steel is my body and Fire is my blood, chaos flee before the cleansing flood! I pray! Exalted Knight Evolution! Jesmon!

  19. #119
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    Aayaash Animikii (Garudamon)
    Dragon Horde Lands


    Ayas stood amidst the group. His tan weathered arms rested across his chest. His head down and eyes closed in silent concentration. The heat was stifling, yes, but yet in a way soothing. A fire within his core stirred as though awakening after a long slumber. Vague memories, as if one was viewing them through a misty veil, crept through his mind’s eyes, as if he once traversed these lands in another life, another era.

    His attention drifted away from the ongoing duel between Ajax and Imego. Deeper, deeper his mind sunk, seeking the source of the ancient memory. His mind descended deeper into the depths of the bottomless pool with an invisible guide. The journey almost seemed endless until plumes of light lashed out with scoulding heat wrapping around his body. He screamed in the dream world as the fire consumed him, but from the inside out.

    “THAT’S AN ORDER!” The deafening roar from Imego jolted Ayas from his trance.

    The Garudamon placed a taloned hand over his heart, breathing deeply with careful measure. After a few minutes, the former judgement finally collected himself and contemplated the odd experience. Only the wisest shaman of his tribe were known to have such visions, but this felt like a familiar sensation. Ayas shook his head uncharacteristically in confusion.

    He glanced around, finally taking in his surroundings realising he stood alone. The rest of the Realmless had paired off with another dragon in a private duel by themselves or in pairs. Ayas studied each individual fight. Most of the Realmless seemed to be holding their own or surpassing their opponent.

    The Garudamon nearly took off to assist the beaten down Titus, but the dragon knight picked himself up and began pushing back. The brilliant flash of blue light forming into a newer, stronger dragon reassured him that Titus would be fine.

    With but a moment’s consideration, Ayas perched down on a sizeable boulder in a meditation position. His fellow Realmless had everything well in hand. He would not be needed. Instead, he sought to recreate the previous experience and learn the truth behind it.

    ___________________

    Ryia Rohirrim (Sleipmon) &
    Sawyer (Garbagemon→ Tuwarmon)
    Dragon Horde Lands VS Prossh - Dorugoramon


    The Iron Mare grinned wickedly. The Sleipmon stood with her hooves planted firmly apart and body drawn tall. The tension in her body displayed a bold challenge to the DORUgoramon. Her narrowed eyes meet the massive dramon’s own, daring him to make the first move.

    The tension broke and both met in a headlong charge. The DORUgoramon roaring deafeningly and Ryia gave a hellish scream. The combatants clashed in an unholy ruckus. Rock, sand, and other debris flew in all directions, raising a dust cloud in the already thick air. Prossh, the DORUgoramon, raked his powerful claws across Ryia’s armor, barely marring the red chrome digizoid metal. The older mare materialised the Niflheimr shield, bashing it against the dragon’s face to push him back.

    “Tactic Smear!” Her foot hooves collided with his chest with a rending clang and left deep ruts in the silver armor. Prossh roared in angry and took to the air. His body quaking with Fury, he dove straight for the Sleipmon, encasing his body with hot fire. “Brave Metal!”

    Ryia braced upward with the Niflheimr as Prossh collided once again, her six legs digging deep trenches into the ground from the force of the impact. Fire spewed everywhere trying to consume the resisting Sleipmon. Her brilliant red armor darkened from the intense flames licking her hindquarters. The Iron Mare gritted her teeth, ignoring the rising pain. She would not yield!

    Sawyer screamed with utter terror on Ryia’s back, completely unheard by the dragon and mare. Without consciously realising it, the Garbagemon slide-evolve into his larger Tuwarmon form while maintaining his death grip on Ryia’s mane.

    The old Mare shifted her weight, before applying more pressure with the left side of her shield and pushing the dragon away from her. Prossh went sailing past her, plowing into several rock formations before rising once more into the air. Ryia stumbled a few steps after freeing herself from the DORUgoramon. Unfortunately, the sudden movement caused Sawyer to lose his place on her back and tumbled a short distance away.

    Prossh soared over head, circling the defient Ryia. Sawyer cowered in the shadow of a nearby cliff completely ignored. The DORUgoramon grinned maliciously. “DORU Din!”

    A fiery shockwave erupted from his outstretched hands, slamming into Ryia and decimating the terrain. The dragon smirked with satisfaction, he could not yet see the ground clearly, but silence reigned for several minutes.

    “Odin’s Breath!”


    An impossible rushing wind of snow and ice flooding the smouldering ground. The environment was too hot for the attack to work normally, but that wasn’t Ryia intent. Instead thick clouds of blistering steam implode in all directions utterly disguising all the nearby rock formations and lava flows.

    Prossh roared in frustration. His quarry was hidden from him! The winged dragon launched fiery shockwaves after shockwave to split the steam to find the mare. However, Ryia kept up her artic attack to maintain the steamy cloud.

    “What’s the matter, bonehead? Upset by a little cloud?” Ryia taunted, her voice echoing off the rocks. Her own fury icy sharp compared to his burning fire.

    The DORUgoramon roared in angry and dropped hard and fast into the steam to find the mare. Just as he saw the ground through the mist, he immediately leveled out. However, as Prossh darted between two massive formations, his momentum abruptly cut. Between the rock formations, a monstrous spider web was strung out and snagged the unsuspecting dragon.

    Sawyer peaked out from his hidey hole, “Digi Ninja Art: Spider Bind.”

    Prossh screamed at the Tuwarmon with a bloodlust in his eyes. He’d nearly managed to tear through the spider silk, when Ryia emerged into view. Rushing forward at full speed, she headbutted the dramon mercilessly. The Iron Mare spun around on her front legs and smashed her rear legs into him with a powerful kick. The now senseless DORUgoramon was sent flying backwards, freed the rest of spider web, and landed with loud crash into a cliff wall.

    Ryia raised the Muspellsheimr and fired off multiple red energy bolts into the rocks above. A show of boulders fell, burying the unresponsive Prossh.

    “Seems you’re not a lost cause after all, mutant,” Ryia taunted, glaring at Sawyer from the corner of her eye.

    “Oh..go jump off a cliff!” Sawyer said, floundering for some witty comeback. The Iron Mare merely laughed.

    ___________

    Titus Cloudraker (Jesmon)
    Dragon Horde Lands


    Smoke billowed from sulfurous heat vents. The two silver dragons continued their fight, but on more even footing. Titus, now Jesmon, stood taller and swifter in form as he virtually glided unhindered across the ground. Molten lava splashed everywhere as Titus’s legs sliced through a thin lava stream, his bladed feet turning red hot as a result. The Fragarach cleaved rock and hardened lava as the older dragon extended the sword at the swift moving Titus, only for the Jesmon to parry or expertly dodge.

    However, the Slayerdramon jumped on Titus’s dropped guard, when he stumbled occasionally with the awkwardness of a new form. The Jesmon retaliated with the timely place blade of his elongated tail in defense. The older silver dragon began utilizing his free claw to strike out or kick with his feet, when Titus whirled into range on his other side.

    Titus’s eyes burned brightly with a newborn fervor with the increased power, finally able to achieve feats he’d struggled with in recent months. The gruff Slayerdramon, in return, met the Jesmon blow for blow. When the two met in stalemate, the more experience dragon pressed harder, forcing Titus to yield ground. Yet, with each strike, each parry, each blow, Titus learned to read his opponent’s movements and adapted with his razor-sharp focus and swift relaxes to regain that lost ground. The Slayerdramon again rushed the younger dragon harder to keep him on the defensive, his face drawn with unadulterated elation.

    Both dragon knights danced in tandem with the fever of the Firemind.

    “Judgement of the Blade!”
    Titus roared with a deepen voice, his body a whirlwind. The Slayerdramon braced his feet into the red earth, ducking beneath the rotating arm blades.

    “Kouryūzanba!” He cried, turning around to wrapped Titus up in the fangs of the Fragarach. The Jesmon deflected the approaching head of Fragarach and then lunged forward with his right arm blade.

    The older dragon dove beneath the lunge to the side and made a grab for the midpoint of Titus’s tail. The Slayerdramon rolled on the rocky ground with a firm grip on the silver-white tail, pulling Titus off his feet in surprise. The two dragons tumbled down a rocky cliff and landed unceremoniously in a heap of tangled armor limbs.

    “Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” the Slayerdramon guffawed heartily. His barrel chest rumbling with a deep chuckle. “Ah, I’m satisfied, now.”

    Titus knelt cautiously, putting some space between the two of them. A baffle, but guarded look cross his face, “That’s it? Aren’t you following orders on Imego’s behalf?” Titus asked, chest heaving from exertion.

    “Imego? Please…” the Slayerdramon muttered with distaste. He glanced towards the fight between the Imperialdramon, Gallantmon X, and BanchoLeomon. “I only came along in interest, when I heard of an unusual group of digimon trespassing into our territory.”

    “Then why?” Titus demanded, his side still ached terribly from the kick earlier, “what was the point of this fight, then?”

    “What other reason does a dragon need to fight!” The Slayerdramon exclaimed jovially. Then his expression turned more solemn, “but an old dragon like myself might have wished to see what kind of dragon my son had become. And I’m not disappointed in the least.”

    Titus didn’t speak. He simply stood, straightening his dirty and scuffed armor. The Jesmon carefully examined the Slayerdramon for any signs of deceit. He kept his emotions tightly guarded, but his golden eyes betrayed his bafflement.

    “Yes, Titus, it is I, Thoreau,” Thoreau drawled, allowing his son time to absorb the revelation. The Slayerdramon rose as well, dismissing the Fragarach to data. He smiled a toothy grin, “you used to play with the gekomon living in the underground spring hear our den, though I’m not sure they saw it that way.”

    “Dad…” Titus muttered, shaking his head in sheer disbelief, but the memory the Slayer- no, his father mentioned was accurate.. “I don’t understand, that day our home was in ruin. I couldn’t find either of you, when I came back to the den.”

    “I wasn’t there. I had gone away to check in with my horde for a few days,” Thoreau sighed, closing his eyes in memory, “by the time I returned it was too late. I feared I’d lost you both.”

    Titus looked away, when he saw the sorrow on his father’s face, and quietly said, “Mom might still alive.”

    “My Kara?” Thoreau jolted his eyes open and jerked his towards Titus.

    “A friend found a prisoner transfer list with her name on it, when we invaded Ironclad recently.” he said, remembering his own shock.

    Thoreau growled with anger,” The Metal Empire. I suspected as much, but I never had proof.”

    Titus gave his father a confused look at the sudden change in mood. Thoreau explained, “I’m not blind, Titus, I’ve heard the rumors about the Empire. But I am not one of your Realmless, my place was with my horde.”

    “Was?” Titus questioned, earnestly with hope.

    “But things are changing,” Thoreau said firmly, “Safeguarding my family was a matter of pride and strength for me,” He snarled and turned a glare towards the east, where the Empire laid beyond. “And I won’t stand for this stain on my honor any longer.”

    The Slayerdramon glanced back to the fighters all around them, “Ironclad, huh,” he said impressed. “Perhaps your Realmless are onto something…”

    “We can’t fight the Empire alone,” Titus appealed, coming to stand alongside his father. “We’re trying to unite all the Realms to our cause.”

    “For you. For Kara. I’ll do everything I can.” Thoreau nodded, looking at Titus from the corner of his eye. “I’ll guide your leader to Karrathus myself if he’ll accept the offer, since Imego botched it up big time.”

    “Thank you.” Titus said sincerely.

    Thoreau glanced away again, “The fighting seems to be dying done now,” he sighed, “I don’t doubt you have questions for me, Titus. Hopefully, we’ll have a chance to catch up more after your leader has spoken with Karrathus and before you leave the horde lands.”

    “You speak like you know the Dragonlord personally,” Titus said cautiously, remembering the role the Khan played in Rheagos’s death ten years ago.

    “That is one of many explanations I own you, my son.” Thoreau sighed, “but let the matter rest for now.

    Titus nodded reluctantly.

    The two silver dragons slowly marched together towards the ongoing fight between Goliath, Ajax, and Imego.

    “Can you keep your current form a while longer? It’ll help with maintaining your group’s reputation in the long run.” Thoreau suggestioned wisely, though his next comment was more ribbing in nature. “At least I’m assuming this was your first time evolving to Jesmon considering how badly I had to beat your *** to achieve it.”

    “I can maintain it,” Titus said clipply, failing to see his father’s humor.
    Last edited by Solsabre; 15th August 2017 at 8:44 AM.
    Anything is possible...apart from skiing through a revolving door.

    Image Credit goes to Kamotz

    I am the bone of my sword, and the seed of my Horde. Steel is my body and Fire is my blood, chaos flee before the cleansing flood! I pray! Exalted Knight Evolution! Jesmon!

  20. #120
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    < Surrak Dragonclaw (WarGreymon X) >
    - Dragon Horde Lands -


    The Dynasmon was strong. By all the gods of fire and rage, he was strong. Their collision had nearly shook Surrak's armor from his body; the pressure of their clash threatened to crush his skull. He dodged a wild haymaker before igniting his boosters and driving the other dragon in the ground. Shards of obsidian exploded in their wake, and a stiff backhand sent Surrak sprawling once more.

    No matter. It would end as it always did, with his claws lodged in someone's skull!

    The Dynasmon let out a roar, and Surrak answered with his own. Power sparked from his opponent's palms; the gems within glowed red hot. A spiraling beam tore towards him, and he answered with his own fire. The volcanic glass liquified and boiled outwards from the colliding power.

    Huge fists swung, crashing against Surrak's gauntlets. The force of the blow rolled through him and hurled him back despite him digging his claws into the rocky earth. He braced himself and shot forward again, shifting seamlessly into his VictoryGreymon form. His sword crashed down, splintering the Dynasmon's armor and hurling him back. Surrak thundered forward again, but this time his opponent caught his wrist and wrenched the sword from his grasp.

    The Dynasmon struck with a wild haymaker that threatened to knock Surrak's head from his shoulders. But he surged back and drove his fist into the Dynasmon's guts, lifting him off the ground with a single blow. His opponent recovered and struck back - back and forth they went, cracking one another with monstrously strong blows. Both stumbled back, and Surrak's hand found his sword. He charged again, sweeping his blade in a wide arc to meet the Dynasmon's pulverizing fist.

    "Ragna! Surrak! Enough!" a voice shook the combatants from their battle fury. They froze mid-swing as Theron stepped towards them. "This...this disgrace has gone on long enough." He turned to the remaining dragons. "Stand down. This is over."

    "Over?" Imego snarled. He elbowed Ajax away only for Goliath to throw him back with a stiff kick. The dragon rolled to his feet. "I gave you an order, you sniveling--"

    "You lost, Imego," Theron said. "You lost the moment you broke ankham and ordered us to fight in your place."

    "You-"

    "I'd shut my mouth if I were you," Theron snapped, glaring angrily at the other dragon. "You've brought us enough shame as it is." He turned to Ajax. "Vol, was it? Your victory here has earned you an audience before the Dragonlord."

    Ajax nodded, and the groups moved a whole deeper into the Hordes' territory. It was almost like flipping a switch; as if by magic, the dragons accompanying Imego no longer heeded the call of battle. For his part, Imego hovered near the back of the group, metaphorically cast out by his people with their backs turned to him.

    "Not bad, Dragonclaw," Ragna the Dynasmon said, stepping over. Surrak rolled his eyes. "But I decided to let you keep your head attached to your shoulders this time around."

    "You never could beat me. And you never will, Ragna," Surrak scoffed.

    Ragna belly-laughed. "It's good to see you again, Surrak. This place has been dull without you."

    ==\=/==

    < Goliath Leonhardt (BanchoLeomon) >
    - Nastrond -


    Dragonlord Karrthus was immense. Goliath had heard stories, of course, of the massive dragon that was uniting the hordes and claiming to be the "Khan" of dragons.
    But Goliath had never seen an Examon that huge before, he was as big as Nicol Bolas, with wings that seemed to fill the entire sky. This was a dragon that had fought his way through everything and everyone that ever opposed him to get to the seat of all draconic power and unite a people that would rather fight each other than follow a single leader.

    "I'm told you beat Imego," the great dragon boomed, glancing down over the Realmless. "That his defeat was so humiliating, he broke ankham and shamed his fellow dragons to try and save face." This last bit was punctuated with a furious glare at Imego.

    Ajax stepped forward.

    "You were the one to beat him?" Karrthus questioned, his voice gravelly and rough. "Some ponce of a knight?"

    "I may have trained with the Legion for a time," Ajax said, refusing to back down. "But I was born of fire. I'm as much a knight as you are, Dragonlord."

    "You dare-?" Imego shouted.

    "Enough with you," Karrthus cowed imego with a snarl. "I accepted your ambition because it made you sharp, because you were cunning. I see now that the only reason you stood out was because you'd never even experienced failure. So you throw tantrums like a hatchling."

    "To be fair, he did lose quite spectacularly," Ajax cut in with a hidden smirk. Goliath swore he heard Karrthus laugh.

    "What do you want?" the dragon demanded. There were no pleasantries or formalities. Cut to the chase and don't waste his time.

    "Your support," Goliath answered, stepping forward to stand closer to the Dragonlord. "In the war to come."

    "War? What does a kitten know of fighting? And what beast presumes to speak for a dragon?" Karrthus pointed at Ajax and Goliath accusingly.

    "This is the beast I've chosen to follow," Ajax answered. He didn't move; he continued to yield the ground to Goliath. "Against all the Realms. Against the Realmpact itself. We here are Realmless and defiant."

    "Good for you," Karrthus mocked. "But I have no interest in little games and squabbles with the machines. Chromium Rhuell knows to stay clear of our lands lest he incur our wrath."

    "For now," Goliath said. "But his grip on the other Realms tightens with every day. How long until he has them all under his thumb? How long until he begins taking your lands from you? Mile by mile, inch by inch." He glanced around their fiery surroundings. "Until all you have left is this burning crater to call your own. What then, Dragonlord? Will you fight then, when it is already too late?"

    "It is never too late for a good fight," Karrthus scoffed.

    "It will be," Goliath said.

    "You think I fear Rhuell and his tin soldiers?" Karrthus challenged, rising to his towering full height.

    "No. I don't. And that's the problem," Goliath answered. "You don't truly know Chromium Rhuell nor do you know what he is truly capable of. But we do." He glanced to the Realmless behind and beside him. "Your own people - the Dragonclaw himself - severed his ties to the Realmpact to join our war. Shouldn't that tell you something?"

    "It tells me he was overeager and fell to firelust," Karrthus snapped.

    "Perhaps," Goliath answered. He breathed deep, struggling to keep his cool. He always had issues when dragons were involved. "But if the direness of this war doesn't strike you, then consider this…"

    Goliath steeled himself. He'd been rehearsing this part in his mind their entire trek through. He'd run over everything, the wording, where he'd wait. He knew only one way to really break through to a dragon when they were being this stubborn. [i]Challenge them[/].

    "Chromium Rhuell claims to be the strongest Digimon in the world. He claims his armies are the greatest to ever walk Eon's surface, or soar Eon's skies," Goliath said. He waited until a look of realization flashed across Karrthus's face. "His continued rule defies your claim to power. You can stay here, in this caldera, as he takes more and more of this world - your lands included - fighting your little battles against those you know have no chance against you. Or you can join with us. Cast off the limits of what the Empire - of what the Realmpact - says you can and cannot do. And fight. Fight a real enemy again. Not to maintain your power as Dragonlord, but to expand it.

    "Show this world what you really are."

    Karrthus was silent and grim, unreadable. He glared down at Goliath, and Goliath wondered if he was deciding whether to join the fight or not, or whether or not to eat him.

    Then he grinned.

    "I like this beast," he laughed. "He could almost be a dragon." He nodded. "Very well, beast. I like this fight you propose. But we are bound by the Realmpact not to interfere in the Empire's affairs or raise an army against them." He frowned in frustration and rolled his eyes. "Go to the Astrals. Petition them for a writ that allows us to fight.

    "Then, you'll have your war."


    Choose your world. Choose your side.

  21. #121
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    Titus Cloudraker (Saviorhuckmon)
    Nastrond


    While Goliath spoke with the Dragonlord, Titus remained in the far rear of the Realmless. He’d returned to his Saviorhuckmon form during the journey to Nastrond, despite his best efforts. Since entering the Khan’s presence, the silver knight turned tense and rigid with his hood and goggles up to obscure his face. Thoreau, his father, stood distinctly apart from the Realmless, but they were close enough to hear one another.

    The Slayerdramon studied the change in his son’s demeanor. In the short time of their reunion, the two had reestablished a sense of familiarity and spoke with comfortable ease. However, the Titus’s cold silence was jarring for those who knew him best. His golden eyes never wavered away from the Khan, a clawed hand curled in a tight fist.

    “Why did you leave the hordes, Titus?“ Thoreau asked quietly, remembering Titus’s connection to the old horde chief, Rheagos. “Surely, accepting Karrthus as your Horde Chief couldn’t have been that bad, the rest of the Imperia horde did.”

    “Rheagos took me in, when I thought I had lost everything,” the young dragon’s eyes flashed with old pain. “Why would I want to follow the dragon responsible for his passing?”

    “You would have been amongst family again, son.” Thoreau said slowly, as he finally spilled the reason for knowing the Dragonlord personally. “Karrthus is my nephew and in turn your cousin by blood.”

    Titus’s blood turned to ice.

    “Knowing that now changes nothing.” Titus said, quickly regaining his composure. The knowledge that his own flesh and blood was the cause for Rheagos ultimately dying left him feeling ill.

    “Rheagos was ancient, Titus,” Thoreau said with a sigh, trying to reach out to his son. “He shouldn’t have engaged Karrthus in Ankam, not when his strength was failing. And I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized how close you were to him.”

    “Maybe,” Titus admitted. In the months leading up the to the fated Ankam, he’d often aided the ailing Imperialdramon PM in the early mornings, when the pain in his limbs was too great. “But he’d raised his horde up under the guidance of the Old Code. Yielding to Karrthus...that legacy would have vanished in the flames of the Firemind.”

    Titus burned with shame. He should have been the one to fight that day, not Rheagos. He’d still been too young and his strength inadequate to defend his horde’s way of life. “He acted as he felt he should. Is that so wrong?”

    “No,” Thoreau shook his horned head, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t there that day to reclaim you and save you further grief.”

    “What are you talking about?” Titus glanced sharply at his father. “You couldn’t have known I was his squire then.”

    The Slayerdramon glanced away from his son’s piercing gaze, silent for several moments, until he reluctantly explained, “After our home was left in ruins, Rheagos himself came to me one day and asked if you were my son. My decision to chose a mate outside my horde was common knowledge to several hordes, since it is seldom done. When he described the young huckmon he’d found, I told him yes.”

    “You knew where I was all those years,” Titus said accusingly, “and yet you left me believing I was alone?”

    “I entrusted you to Rheagos’s care for your own sake!” Thoreau countered heatedly. He waved a hand dismissively, “It’s...complicated and would require an explanation at a more appropriate time.”

    “No,” Titus said, his eyes hard with hurt and betrayal. “I think we’re done.”

    The Saviorhuckmon yanked his hood off, letting it hang down his back. Turning his back to his father, he said in stiff farewell, “I’m glad you’ve been well, father, and rest assured I will get mom back if she's alive.”

    “Titus!” Thoreau snarled sharply in a hushed tone to get his son’s attention, but the Saviorhuckmon had already slipped away to merge further into the gathered Realmless.

    “Not because I wanted too, Titus,” Thoreau muttered, he closed his eyes with evident regret. “but Rheagos was the teacher you needed, not me.”

    “If only to try and prevent a tragedy from repeating itself.”

    _________________

    Sawyer (Tuwarmon)
    Nastrond


    The mutant digimon hovered closely beside Ryia as they marched to the capital of the Nastrond. Sighting the massive Examon, Karrthus, Sawyer involuntarily stumbled sideways and pressed into the old mare’s thick red armor. Apparently less than thrill with the extra body mass, Ryia planted a solid kick, sending the Tuwarmon staggering away a few feet.

    “Stand your ground with your own two feet, mutant. I’m not a brooding mare.”

    Sawyer held up both hands to placate the Sleipmon, however, she payed no further attention him as she moved away. The tall mutant deflated with a breath and pulled himself upright to rigid attention as he glance around to observe their surroundings. He really wish they could finish up and be done.

    The Tuwarmon studied his gauntlet hands and arms, more to distract himself from the imposing Examon. He’d actually managed to do something useful during the last battle with this form. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and lost his squish factor. However, he hated what it represented and the potential risk to his father and other conscripted soldiers if he was caught in the open by the Empire.

    “A sh*ttier situation than a two-hole outhouse,” the mutant muttered under his breath. Sawyer dropped his arms to his sides without a clue to fix his predicament. A silver gleam flashed out of the corner of his eye. Titus glided up alongside the Tuwarmon without a word, appearing to watch the proceedings with the Khan.

    “Heya, Finn, sorry I didn’t mention the ‘new’ look to ya sooner.” Sawyer scratched his head sheepishly, “I kinda stumbled through the evolution by accident a year ago, when you weren’t around to kick a few butts for me.”

    The Saviorhuckmon tilted his head to the side and gave Sawyer a dull, tired nod of acknowledgement, before glancing away again. An awkward silence hung between the pair until the Tuwarmon happened to glaze in the direction Titus had come from.

    “So who’s the look-a-like?” Sawyer asked, looking at the larger silver dragon standing in the background past his friend.

    “Just one of the dragons that met us at the borders,” the Saviorhuckmon said offhandedly.

    “That’s it? Seemed like you two were talking for quite a bit,” Sawyer pressed, genuinely curious. “Was he someone you kn-”

    “Sawyer, please…” Titus said in a hushed tone, his eyes closed as though fighting a headache, “can we leave the matter be?”

    “Ah, yea, whatever you say, Finn.” Sawyer hesitated, but agreed nonetheless. The mutant stared at his longtime friend for several moments. Titus typically hid his true feeling very well or kept them well below the surface. But Sawyer had known the Saviorhuckmon long enough to know his friend was quite distressed.


    ____________________

    Ryia Rohhirrim (Sleipmon)
    Nastrond

    She knickered with annoyance at the fidgety Tuwarmon, when he’d tried leaning into her side for cover. A cold sweat dripped down her back from the sudden closeness of the mutant. Abruptly, she kicked Sawyer just hard enough to send him tumbling a few feet. “Stand your ground with your own two feet, mutant. I’m not a brooding mare.” She snapped, disregarding the pounding beats of her heart. Agitated, the Iron Mare stomped her feet and trotted forward where there was a bit more space.

    “Move aside, you lumbering rustheap,” Ryia barked coldly as she maneuvered her equine form into a better position to observe the exchange with the Khan.

    “No need for insults my dear." the RustTyrannomon’s metallic voice rumbled, "I may be old and rusted but I still know how to treat a lady." He took a step back, opening his spot for Ryia to take.

    Ryia snorted with contempt, barely acknowledging the old timer’s gracious words. Just because she agreed to tolerate the Empire turncoats didn’t she had to converse friendly with them. (The squishy one didn’t count.)

    “The Kahn is truly impressive." the massive dramon remarked, unable to see Ryia's face to judge her reactions. "Someday, when this war is ended, I may indeed return here to these lands to find rest. The Empire has nothing left to give me, and nothing left to take."

    A dark cloud passed over Ryia’s thoughts, recalling the dark and painful memories. Panicking younglings cut down by explosions and gunfire. Blood curdling screams of her children and herd mates drowning in their own blood as they tried -and failed- to defend themselves. All because of the Realmpact and the bondage it held them in.

    “I will know no rest until Rhuell and his subordinates lay dead beneath my hooves,” Ryia swore, blood boiling with anger. Her eyes narrowed, staring off into the distance as she imagined the retribution. “Over a hundred strong, the impact of our hooves echoed across the plains to be heard for miles. Yet merely words brought my herd to its doom.”

    Her tail swished wildly from side to side, ears folded back. “The Khan is a fool if he believes a flimsy paper will release the dragons from the bonds of the Realmpact. Bonds which will only be loosen for a time until they are tighten again, leaving them to the mercy of their jailors.”

    If not for the bitterness filling her heart, Ryia would have acknowledge and respected the Khan’s strength and prowess. However, in all things concerning the Realmpact and the Empire, her words turned into a cold, hard blade.

    “Better we count the dragons as allies for a day than not count them among us at all." Jericho said. His voice was low and solemn. "Actions require power. And words are the promise of power. That is the essence of the Realmpact. The promise and the fulfillment in one. Defying such a thing is no trifling matter."

    "Death has taken something from us all at Rhuell's command. Your loss has been a heavy burden to bear, but it is a weight that is familiar to most of us."

    “Nay, it is not,” Ryia snorted, crossing her arms and settling finally in a restful stance. Memories of broken bones and blood dripping from gaps in her armor plagued her mind. “It is the price we’ve paid to be free of the Realmpact, some by choice and others not. So, when the Realms fall to their knees, it will left to us to show them how to endure that burden and rise up.”

    Jericho nodded. "Indeed. Though if we see the day come when metal emperors die, empires fall, realms are shattered and lines redrawn... When the smoke clears and the horrors cease and we set right the wrongs of our time and new leaders rise from the ashes to rule with honor and virtue. At that time, the best gift we could give the world would be to fade into history and take our sorrows with us."

    “I will not go so quietly into the twilight,” Ryia said with fervor, “Not until the future’s children prove themselves worthy of the pain we’ve endured for that new day. When they remember and understand the price of our blood and sweat, than I will stand aside.”

    “Assuming I live long enough to witness that new dawn, of course.” Ryia said forthright.

    "All things fade in their time." Jericho sighed. "The Realmpact is no more immortal than are we. Even if our small rebellion can grow mighty enough to slay that which was born at the dawn of our history, that history will be ours to write for only a short time. And will not be etched at all by those who fall before then except by the memory they etch on those of us who survive. Our only duty to this world is to see our story etched into the hearts and minds of all who come after as a testament that once there was a Realmpact. That once there were Realmless. That once, despair and violence ruled the day. But no more. And never again."

    The dinosaur shook his head with a series of metallic clanks. "But these are the ramblings of an old man with too much to prove and no one left to care. We will see what becomes of all this fire and fury. We will see."

    "Once I'm dead and gone, who am I to care." the old mare said flatly, shifting her weight idly to a back leg.


    _________________________________



    Aayaash Animikki (Garudamon)
    Nastrond


    Ayas stood amongst the Realmless, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed in thought. The Khan spoke true. The Astral Order, responsible for law and policies of Eon, could circumvent the bounds of the Realmpact if such a petition were granted. In theory at least, however, Ayas couldn’t recall any previous occurrence from the historical records to support it.

    “Indeed a writ would enable the dragons to fight within the bounds of the Realmpact, if the Order can be properly convinced of the justification for it.” The former judge said softly, just loud enough for the Realmless to hear him. “The due process for creating the writ will likely be time consuming and I would share my concern of the Empire perhaps overruling it.”

    "Please, you mean to tell me that we have an entire army here that we can't use until we get written permission?" Versa’s palm met her forehead perhaps a little too hard. "This Realmpact nonsense is absolutely infuriating. Why in the burning hell did anyone think this was a good idea?"

    "The Realmpact was created to enforce a peaceful existence equally between the Realms." Ayas stated, not at all bothered by her exacerbated outburst. "And the system has served its purpose as was intended, however, a shift has occurred to upset the balance in recent times as we, ourselves, have experienced first hand."

    Versa’s eyebrow twitched as her face tried a few emotions before settling on disinterested contempt. "You think? I'd call the Metal Empire doing whatever the hell it wants a little more than a 'shift'." Versa turned her nose up at him in a gesture that was surprisingly dainty given her earlier fire. "But call it what you will. Just get the permission slip so we can stop sitting on our asses and start kicking theirs."

    “In due time, of course,” Ayas continued on, as if he didn’t notice Versa’s dismissal of the subject. He did ensure she could hear him clearly though. The former judge had dealt with Versa’s sort before, he would not let her attitude get to him. However, now and again, he would indulge and ruffle their feathers with a hintt more subtly. It’s amazing how quickly some digimon will drop a fuss if you bore them with details. “We’ll need to send in a formal request for an audience with the Assembly of Judges to present our case, then there will be the time needed for them to gather if we are granted an audience. The next phase will be for deliberation and discussion. Then if they do agree, the writ must be carefully crafted to eliminate loopholes and usually undergo several revisions….”

    Ayas continued his ‘explanation’ of the proceedings a few moments longer for good measure. The older Garudamon let a bare smirk grace his features, before once again schooling his expression to that of a humorless and serious judge. While deadpan humor was not an attribute he exhibited often, it sometimes helped to keep the more unruly individuals guessing in confusion.
    Last edited by Solsabre; 23rd September 2017 at 7:36 AM.
    Anything is possible...apart from skiing through a revolving door.

    Image Credit goes to Kamotz

    I am the bone of my sword, and the seed of my Horde. Steel is my body and Fire is my blood, chaos flee before the cleansing flood! I pray! Exalted Knight Evolution! Jesmon!

  22. #122
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    < Goliath Leonhardt (BanchoLeomon) >
    - Nastrond -


    Goliath grumbled as Ayas explained the process of even gaining an audience with the judges of the Astral Order. He knew there would be bureaucracy involved but it sounded never-ending when Ayas explained it. He felt like he'd been standing in the same place for two months! They needed to move - he didn't know why - there was something pushing him forward, urging him to action. Something boiled just out of sight.

    “Indeed a writ would enable the dragons to fight within the bounds of the Realmpact, if the Order can be properly convinced of the justification for it.” The former judge said softly, just loud enough for the Realmless to hear him. “The due process for creating the writ will likely be time consuming and I would share my concern of the Empire perhaps overruling it.”
    "You see, my lord?" Imego snarled off to Karrthus's side. "For all their bluster and talk, they have no way to turn that into meaningful action."

    "I'd be hesitant to criticize another's lack of meaningful action if I were you, Imego," Ajax snarled back.

    "And I'd be hesitant to criticize those above your station if I were you, lowly outcast," Imego snapped angrily.

    "What is the law of our people? What is the law of the Firemind?" Karrthus bellowed, turning to them both, silencing them. "To conquer is to survive. To rule is to bleed. Victory or death. Imego, you have achieved neither victory nor death. Ajax, you cast off the fire in your blood; you neither conquer nor rule."

    "Except I'm Realmless," Ajax said, standing defiantly before the massive dragon. "I'm not beholden to anything anymore."

    Karrthus leaned in slow, his massive eyes lowering to stare directly into Ajax. His voice dropped low as well, speaking to just the armored dragon knight. "Then if you will not conquer, and you will not rule...remain silent."

    “We’ll need to send in a formal request for an audience with the Assembly of Judges to present our case, then there will be the time needed for them to gather if we are granted an audience. The next phase will be for deliberation and discussion. Then if they do agree, the writ must be carefully crafted to eliminate loopholes and usually undergo several revisions….”
    "But it's a start," Goliath said, growling low, hoping to break the tension between the dragons. There was always tension when all those equally-stubborn reptiles got together. But more than that, they needed to move faster or any forward movement they had would be stripped away. He felt like he was clawing to get moving again, like the fight with the Horde had robbed them of all the momentum they'd built in their fight against the Empire. Outwitting Sabboth, the victory at Setessa, the allies gained at Ironclad...they were meaningless if they didn't continue to make further strides.

    "Even if we go before the judges, we'll need time and money to put together our case, and representation," Emmara said with a sigh. She turned to Ayas. "No offense, but we don't know if they'd even let you argue our case. For all the other Realmless that came before us and were wiped out, I doubt any of them ever went before the Judges to ask permission for one Realm to declare war on another."

    "Then perhaps that is our solution," Jaeger said. It was the first he'd spoken in a long while, and Goliath turned a patient ear to what the typically-thoughtful wolf had to say. "Would the Judges even know what to do with us and our case? Who would preside over such a thing?"

    "Who would want to?" Emmara groaned.

    "Who even could?" Goliath asked, slowly coming to Jaeger's meaning. "A request for hostilities made on behalf of one Realm by Realmless."

    "This would have to be taken up by the Supreme Judge," Jaeger said with a nod.

    "Or dismissed outright," Ulysses scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Why in all the hells would the Supreme Judge agree to meet with us, tinwolf?"

    "Because if you are a cog in a ceaseless bureaucratic machine that has procedures for everything, and you're faced with an impossible scenario that you have no answer for, you pass it to your superior," Jaeger answered with a hiss. "And then the impossible scenario will reach as high as it can go. And at that point they will have no choice but to listen."

    "Unless they don't even listen to us in the first place," Ulysses snapped back. "They don't need to hear to us at all. They can just ignore us and be done with it."

    "Then you'll need someone to gain entry and audience," Karrthus grumbled from up high. "Imego, go with them as my proxy. Then they'll have to grant you audience with someone." He waved them off.

    "Absolutely not!" Ajax and Imego shouted together.

    "This untrustworthy-"

    "I'd rather die than go with them!"

    "I can arrange that, Storm's Fury," Karrthus boomed, his voice shaking the caldera. "Or do you forget who is your Khan?" The Dragonlord's threat left no room to argue further. "And if you raise a hand against them, and betray me, I will nail you to the side of this volcano by your wings."


    Choose your world. Choose your side.

  23. #123
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    Versa Victa (BeelStarmon) & Jericho Arcos (RustTyrannomon)
    - Nastrond -


    One thing Versa was good at was reading people. Ayas's eyes were saying that some part of him was enjoying this lengthy exposition Order politics. The Garudamon just wouldn't shut up. “We’ll need to send in a formal request for an audience with the Assembly of Judges to present our case," he rambled on dryly, "then there will be the time needed for them to gather if we are granted an audience. The next phase will be for deliberation and discussion. Then if they do agree, the writ must be carefully crafted to eliminate loopholes and usually undergo several revisions….”

    And on and on and on. Politicians and lawyers could all go straight to the lowest pit of hell, provided they weren't already practicing there.

    But enough was enough. "Alright already, its a long boring process, I get it." Versa tossed her hair with a quick flick of her fingers. "If I get sued, I'll look you up Jabberjay. And if someone tries to kill you, you can come find me. Until then, I'm going to find someone more interesting to talk to. Like that rock over there."

    The BeelStarmon sauntered off, knowing full well the smug sense of satisfaction Aayaash was probably feeling right now. Well, screw him and his smug thoughts. She signed up to be a Realmless to kick ***, take names, and hopefully do something worth doing in this strange world she lived in. What she did not sign up for was chatting politics and legalese with a bird brained scribe or watching dragons punch each other and shout about honor all day.

    Didn't anyone in this outfit know how to have fun? As she walked into earshot of Ryia and Jericho's conversation about death, legacy, pain, and the crushing weight of emotional baggage, the answer seemed to be a loud and resounding no.

    By the time the two geezers finished verbally assaulting themselves, Versa had heard more than enough to get her riled up. "You can't actually believe that." she said, approaching Jericho even as Ryia seemed to disengage.

    "Believe what?" Jericho turned to face her in all his imposing size, his joint creaking. "That I'm a relic of a bygone era?"

    "That the world would be better off without us once the Metal Empire falls." Versa was much less imposing compared to the huge machine, but she wasn't about to back down. She could only hope the fire in her eyes made up for how much she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

    "You don't think so? No I suppose someone so young would not." he shook his head.

    "Age has nothing to do with it. Its a matter of principal."

    "Whose principal would that be young lady? Mine? Yours? Goliath's? The Metal Emperor's?"

    Versa crossed her arms. "Don't confuse the issue. If things are so bad now that we have to rip the world's order out by the roots, then who else can we trust to run this world the right way except ourselves? Don't tell me you of all people don't have ideas on how the run the Metal Empire better."

    "That's not..." Jericho was silent for a bit, pondering his next words carefully. "Its not a matter of what I think is better. Its a matter of what actually is better. And I don't think we need an Emperor to decide that for us."

    "Please, don't tell me you actually think democracy is the way to go here?" Versa actually laughed at the thought. "Mob rule? In this twisted system? What could go wrong with millennia of hostilities to poison the waters. Yes, lets do all the hard work and then put a bunch of worthless, brainwashed, biased, peasants in charge. That'll really help things."

    "Its not our place to tear down dictators only to enshrine ourselves as kings and queens in their place. Are we conquerors or liberators? If we win we will be remembered as heroes, if we lose as rebellious scum, but who would rally behind us if we took the thrones for ourselves? Who would follow us if we told them things were going to be done our way now. No, we should let them decide for themselves how they will be ruled."

    "That's exactly what we shouldn't do." Versa placed a hand on her hip. "You don't help anything by showing people that when they're in trouble someone else will come to do all the hard work, that someone else will come and save them. You don't spoil them rotten and then make them all kings and queens in their own eyes and expect them not to tear at each other with renewed vigor. I know. I've seen it. Its called the Unhallowed Syndicate. What you describe as liberation for your empire is exactly what keeps mine in darkness and misery. The opulent rise to the top on the bodies of all those beneath them. Don't tell me to believe that a just and righteous ruler wouldn't be better."

    "Better is a matter of opinion that is impossible to define objectively." Jericho let out a deep sigh and Versa scrunched her nose. His breath smelled like oil. "But I have not seen the Syndicate with my own eyes. I will take your words into consideration. But take mine as well, young fire heart. The weight of a crown is not in its power but its allure. Imagine yourself a queen of demons, and a queen of demons you may become. For better or worse."

    Versa smiled slyly. "Better to wear a crown of thorns than a shackle of gold."

    "Perhaps." Another sigh from the big machine as he scratched at his chin. "But enough talk. We have much to prepare for. Its a long walk to the Astral Order, if that is to be our next stop."

    "Thanks for the chat Grumpy Gears." Versa imitated a little curtsy. "Not as fun as I was hoping for, but certainly better than talking to that rock." Jericho gave a puzzled glance to the rock in question. Versa ignored him and headed off towards where a few others were gathering. "Next time, tell me an old war story or something."
    Last edited by TheSequelReturns; 14th October 2017 at 2:36 AM.
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