Defending Impa

(Yes I know vampires can feel pain. Also, I probably won't be able to post this week, and the event will probably end without Blyss drinking blood due to this unplanned circumstance, I believe Blyss should be exempt from the usual requirements for blood)

Blyss had to choose between death and quicker death. She had no chance for herself to decide, her instincts kicked in against her own wishes, leaving her leaping backwards, with her left arm limp and immovable. As she landed on her feet, she fell to her right knee, with intense pains shooting in her leg. The muscle in her leg ripped from the stress put on it with the jumping and the sprint here. She grimaced with her right hand tightening on her thigh. She struggled to stand up, her body shaking as she tried to hold her weapon at the enemies. As much as she hated to admit it, but she was going to need help or she was going to get killed her.

" H-hey if anyone i-is capable, s-s-some as-ssistance would really be appreciated here" she stuttered, backing up as quickly as she could with her injuries and pain, wincing in pain almost every step. Dispare, the purple fairy, decided to fly around and alert anyone who wasn't fighting desperately for their life to the small vampire's need.

Was she really afraid? She had forgotten fear, hadn't she. She went without having to face difficulty in a long time, coming complacent and proud in her abilities. These things were capable of snuffing her out, completely. And unlike the others around her, she couldn't come back... not like them. They could rely on the fact that the Liberation army is behind them and that they could be saved from death. Not her. Even if they could, she wouldn't be herself anymore, if they could bring her back it would have to have reversed all those years she had spent as a vampire, undoing the curse, probably destroying the memories that this not living, but not dead body that she held onto with the last of her strength. She didn't want to lose that. She would lose her memories of her longlost master. She had to hold on, she could die like this. A tear slid down the Blyss's tiny cheek. She was going to die like this wasn't she...

Jacob smiled and started to say something when a bomb exploded right in front of him and Eysseth. "Shit! Shit! Where's that comin' from?" Jacob tried to yell over the sound of bombs going off all around him. As Eysseth weaved sideways to avoid a bomb Jacob saw the injured Moblin shooting the Aerofols cannon. "There the bastard is," Jacob said readying his own bomb. Jacob threw the bomb down hoping to hit the Moblin. Jacob's bomb exploded a few inches from the Moblin. The Moblin squealed as it collapsed on the ground missing an arm and a good bit of it's side.

Jacob looked over to see the Moblin fall over. "There we go. One less problem to worry about. What is that?" Jacob said as a small purple ball with wings started to speed over to Jacob and Eysseth. The purple thing moved up and down and made weird noises as if trying to tell Jacob something. "Um...what is it, little, purple thing?" Jacob asked getting increasingly more confused. The purple light rammed into Eysseth a few times and then darted away. "Let's follow it Eysseth."

As Jacob and Eysseth followed the purple light to see a small figure surrounded by Dinofols. "Shit! Someone needs help. I mean they must be on our team if Dinofols are attacking them, right? Eysseth get ready to grab the person down there. Go!" Jacob readied another bomb as Eysseth swooped down to grab the person being attacked. Eysseth grabbed the person as Jacob rolled the bomb off of Eysseth's back as she flew back up into the air. Jacob looked back as Eysseth flew to see the bomb explode killing the closest and injuring the rest of the Dinofols.

The Moblin pressed forward, his axe biting into his opponent's shield. The Hylian was severely weakened, from taking the full force of the Thunder spell, yet had somehow managed to survive. This perplexed the savage beast, but he could still recognize that this Hylian would be fairly easy prey. Snorting wildly, he pushed down harder on his axe, tried to force the armored man backwards, and off balance. He had to end this quickly; that much he knew. His allies were falling about him, their force now a third of what it had once been. The heroes were weakened now, and even if the Hellfire Company did find victory on this day, they could not push on towards Impa, not without help. Wounded as they were, even the weak citizens of the new township could probably defeat the significantly weakened force. He did not understand the full enormity of their inevitable failure, but his heart knew that if he could not defeat this Hylian, there would be no hope. Swinging across with his left arm, he hoped to catch the Hylian's chin with the corner of his shield, and further push him back.

"I commend you Hylian. It has been a long while since I have faced an opponent that has lasted as long as you." Jagon saluted, bowing slightly and waiting for the Hylian to rise. He placed his sword into its sheath, the sword rasping as it entered the dark wood. He unbuckled it from his sword belt, holding it firmly with his left hand. Grasping the sheath with his left hand, and the hilt with his right, Jagon placed his right foot forward again and bent his knees. Holding the sheath slightly away from his body, at the level of his hip, he spoke again. "Stand, hero, and meet your death." His deep baritone voice rumbled, carrying to Nicholas' ears. Jagon was not without his own code of honor. He would allow this man to die as he had come; a hero.

The Dinalfos ran towards the fleeing Kokiri, closing the ground as quickly as they dared. Eyes darted back and forth, examining the battlefield as they made chase. What they saw left them disgruntled. They had spent too much time dealing with this forest bitch, rather than fighting other, perhaps more threatening enemies. But they had no choice now; she was very nearly dead, and their punishment would be swift. There was no time to relish in their hunt as they closed the distance between them. Stepping forward, the first of the Dinalfos was met with a thunderous explosion. A piercing whistle stabbed through its ears. Looking down in shock, it saw that it was missing an arm, that rock and wood had pierced its chest. It realized then that it was screaming in pain. Clawing at its chest, the Dinalfos' eyes rolled into the back of its head. The lizard collapsed to the ground, dead. Its brethren were far more fortunate. Their brother had taken the brunt of the explosion, and in doing so, he had saved them. Their howls were no less great as their brothers, but this was one of pain and hatred. Another of their litter mates dead. Looking at the Kokiri monster with hatred in their eyes, they ran forth, madness taking their hearts. She was the closest enemy on which they could vent their anger and frustration.

Damien knew what was coming, and realized that he could not stop it. Either he let himself get hit and lose his balance completely, taking some pain in addition, or he could try and strike back with his sword and lose his balance...

The obvious choice was the latter. As the moblin's buckler arm came swooping in, Damien brought his sword arm to the inside of their tangle, and swung left-to-right, intercepting the inner side of the moblin's unshielded forearm. This, in addition to cutting into and wounding the moblin somewhat, knocked the arm out of its path to collide with Damien's face.

However, as Damien spun with the sword, following through the strike, the moblin continued pressing on his shield until Damien was thrown into a clockwise spin toward the earth below. He landed with a metallic thud in the dirt, while his foe looked quite vexed at his bleeding arm.

Do not tire yet... You are still strong... Only tiring...

Indeed, that was the issue. More than anything, the currents of magic electricity that so very recently coursed through his body had given his heart an irregular rhythm. This, while temporary, was quite disagreeable. It made him somewhat slower, weaker, and generally reduced his stamina and endurance. One could have only hoped that it would be a matter of time before his heart returned to normal.

This was not that time, yet.

Damien rolled onto his back in a daze, but was alerted by the flash of dull, nicked steel falling toward him. Frantically, he did a half-roll to his left, ending up on his left side while the ax fell just where his chest used to be. Taking the opportunity to strike, Damien inverted his family's sword in his right hand, holding it like a dagger. He raised his arm and plunged it straight down on the moblin's upper arm, tearing through whatever muscles he could, and likely even scoring bone with his weapon's fine edge.

The moblin howled in intense pain, trying to recoil yet finding such attempts difficult with the sword lodged in his biceps and triceps. Damien was now, however, happy to assist, as he righted his grip and yanked with all of his might, tearing the blade out and slightly sideways in a brief fountain of blood. The moblin staggered back, clutching at the gaping, bloody hole torn into his upper arm. In this hole, ripped muscle tissue and carved bone would be seen clearly through the curtain of crimson blood. Knowing that he had more or less disarmed his foe, Damien took his chance to stand to his feet.

The moblin glared at him with a mix of paralyzing fear and uncontrollable rage. Damien stood tall, panting from his slowly but somewhat consistently receding exhaustion. The moblin took a moment, roared from the depths of its throat, and charged forward, blood dripping down its maimed arm. It wound up for a right-to-left strike with its buckler, hoping to crack Damien's skull, or at least knock him to the ground. Instead, Damien opted to try and get his foe to fall without being struck too many times more himself.

And so, with a rush of adrenaline that would shock his heart into its correct beat, or at least closer to such a beat, Damien ducked and dodged right, swinging his sword to oppose the direction of the moblin's strike. The blade cut into the moblin's upper arm, driving through one bone rather than two, and biting through muscle and flesh like a starved man through a sandwich.

Grunting, Damien watched his foe's arm come apart right before his eyes. A spray of blood shot over his sword and his face and chest, and he was not struck by the beast's blow.

Another howl of agony announced the moblin's situation. However, what Damien noticed more was that the jolt his body was given as he pushed for more speed made him feel stronger, and not only for that moment, but slightly carrying over into the present.

So, he decided to let himself go, feeling his heart pump more healthily as he roared, hacking wildly into the helpless moblin's undefended body, splitting mail rings and cutting through steel plate. With a final roar, Damien raised his sword on high, looking down on the bloodied, nearly dead moblin, and swung down brutally to split the monster's helm right down the middle.

Damien felt warm blood spray out, and a slight tingle of power return to his fingertips.

Yes, his heart was stronger now. Perhaps it was not at its fullest, yet this would have to do. Damien knelt for a moment, with the tip of his sword in the dirt, and prayed to Nayru to return him to his senses, while his brief moment of rest let his body recover just that little bit more.

With that, the grizzled, battered warrior stood at his proudest yet, and turned to the large, heavily-armored darknut called "Jagon."

He had apparently come just in time to assist Nicholas. Wiping the bloody edge of his sword on the folds of his now bloodstained cloak, he turned the sword over in his hands as the moonlight reflected off of it anew. He looked back to Jagon, who was preparing to deal what would have been the fatal blows to Nicholas, or so Damien assumed Jagon had planned. Whether Nicholas would stop the darknut or not was... well, unimportant.

"Master of Demons!! Turn back to the shadows and leave this place in peace..." Damien raised his blade in front of his face to let the moonlit weapon show to the enemy, "Or die here this night!"

Expecting Jagon's response to be a defiant one, Damien almost immediately engaged his Pegasus Boots, gathering power in his feet and rocketing forward toward his enemy. However, Jagon would certainly be able to counter such a reckless attack as one made by a man simply charging forward, so Damien prepared himself to skid to a halt and feign backward, or sideways if necessary, just beyond Jagon's sword range.

Nicholas watched, perplexed by Jagon's actions, but wasn't about to waste what little time the seeds would last. Reaching his right arm over and picking up his sword, he got ready to stand up, pushing off the ground with his clenched left hand as he was ready for the Darknut's next strike when he heard the foolish Hylian from earlier. Pushing himself up, he rushed to place himself between the two as he faced Jagon with a swift horizontal slash from his left, aiming to slash Jagon from his waist up to his left shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing!" Nicholas roared as he swung, hoping the man would stop his charge before he killed himself. Jagon was far stronger then any Nicholas had faced in the past, and he wasn't about to allow some stranger get himself killed because he thought Jagon was weaker then that.

The strength, he knew no equal to the power the Darknut held.

Jagon stared blankly at the bellowing man, his words failing to register in the Darknut's mind. Demons? No such thing existed. There was only the strong and the weak; good and evil were for weaker men, to indict those who had found them lacking in every aspect. Jagon sneered. "Confident words to be sure, but fate has not yet chosen the victor. Until then, guard yourselves well, Hylians, lest my blade find your hearts." The towering monster watched as the Hylian began his charge forward, to meet blades with Jagon while his ally was down. The man was a fool, for all his bravery. Perhaps stupidity was a more fitting word. Either way, Jagon could not feel fear, not from a man who seemed so small, in body and the strength of his heart. He was purely bluster, as far as he could tell. The frayed look to what cloth stuck out from under his armor, and the blanked face of his plate showed how much he had suffered. Jagon would make him suffer tens of that. Pushing off the ground, Jagon ran forward to meet his charge, great rivulets of dirt flying behind him as his claws tore through the earth.

A quick movement at the side of his eyes, and the fallen Hylian was returned to his feet. Jagon gripped his sheath ever tighter with his left, his right hand sweating on the thread and grip of his blade. Jagon sank lower to the ground, increasing his speed as he shot towards his enemies. His right paw sank into the ground slightly with the force of its impact. Twisting to his right, his sword exploded from its prison, screaming as it was torn from its home. The bottom of the hilt impacted with Nicholas' blade, his blade biting into the wood, but not nearly deep enough. Continuing to twist his body and draw his sword, which had yet to fully leave its sheath, Jagon pushed the Hylian's sword away from his body. Stepping ahead with his left foot now, he continued his rotation, lifting his right foot from the ground. Bending his left knee, Jagon fully unsheathed his weapon as he fell forward, past the first Hylian's side. Blasting off the ground by pushing his left foot hard against the ground, Jagon now had his sword wielded in his right, and his sheath, held in reverse, in his left. Is he lifted from the ground, he initiated a Spin Attack, using both weapons.

The black aura of his weapons extended his reach far beyond normal, and his built up speed was nearly matching that of the second, charging Hylian. Spinning in a circle as he shot ahead, Jagon aimed to catch Nicholas with a slash against his back using his blade. At the same time, the charging Hylian would blunder into a sheath both sharpened and extended by the Spin Attack's aura, his sheath slashing at Damien's upper stomach. Though it was made only of wood, the magical sword-force aura of the Spin Attack lent it nearly as much power as any weapon, and although it wound cause blunt damage, it would be mroe than enough to break bones. But that was not the end of his assault, merely the beginning. As he continued through his spin, because he had two weapons held in his hands, the Hylian would be slashed at three times, not just one, as Jagon made his full rotation. Adjusting the height of his blades as he turned, he aimed to take the man's waist, chest, and neck with three successive, nearly instantaneous attacks.

Nicholas had tried his best to stop Jagon, but the Darknut was quick without his heavy armor on, and managed to parry Nicholas' slash with his sheath while quickly sprinting past him, using his parry as momentum to push past Nicholas' assault and move towards the injured fool. Nicholas turned his head just as he saw Jagon spin, rolling away from the Darknut as black energy trailed off his back, red specks floating among the darkness as it faded. The attack had managed to rend his armor and nick his back, luckily nothing too serious but it still stung something horrible.

Pivoting in place, Nicholas couldn't even tell among the waves of darkness coming from Jagon's attack as he charged forward and ducked low as he slashed vertically, aiming to get in as the Spin Attack finished and hopefully before the other man died.

Damien changed his tactics right there. Instead of skidding to a halt and simply feigning left, right, or back, as he had planned, he instead opted to use his momentum to dive and roll beneath the arc of Jagon's sword.

Damien was no fool, to be sure. He knew from they very beginning that simply charging Jagon would be suicide, and never intended to attack on his first charge. However, after rolling beneath Jagon's spin, he could come up and attack form the rear. With his momentum, he could easily shot beyond Jagon, getting low enough to dodge the spin.

As he and Jagon approached each other at closing speeds of more than thirty miles per hour, Damien dropped his sword arm from its aggressive position, instead lowering himself and using his legs to shoot himself into a dive. It would have seemed an odd action, since he was still rather distant from Jagon, but as the two closed so rapidly, by the time Damien and Jagon met, Damien had safely sunk beneath the level of the spin attack.

He landed either underneath the edge of Jagon's attack radius or before it (at such speeds, it was hard to tell where), rolling over his left shoulder and continuing behind Jagon, while the darknut overshot in his own turn. Stopping, Damien scrambled to his feet and shot around to rush at Jagon from behind. Hopefully while Jagon was still situated facing the other direction, finishing his spin, Damien would seek to strike at Jagon's legs with a quick blow of his fine, steel blade. As he lashed out, Damien kept his shield ready to respond to any retaliation, while he sought to recall his sword as rapidly as possible, hoping to parry any necessary attacks after having sliced at his foe's legs.

What! Jagon was quite frankly surprised. He had scored a blow on the back of the Hylian whom he had been dueling with, that much he had been sure of. He had felt his sword shear through the metal of plate armor, the fine metal of his blade unparalleled by by any in the land. That much had gone according to plan. However, the other had the presence of mind to initiate a dive to the ground as Jagon flew towards him, jumping to the ground before Jagon's weapons could destroy him. Jagon's strikes struck only the air, whistling as they cleaved through an imaginary foe. The Darknut sailed through the air, his deadly pirouette mostly ineffective, yet executed gracefully and almost perfect. He flew yards past the man who had dived to the ground, his Spin Attack carrying him barely above the ground.

He landed with a soft thud upon the tip of his right foot, his initial rotating motion from the Spin Attack continuing as he landed on the ground. His body span to the right, his eye catching a flash of steel. Holding his blade, held in his right hand, so that it pointed to the ground, he continued to spin around. The blade formed a five foot defensive wall as it cut through the air behind him, catching the bold man's sword, the one that had slashed at his legs. The sword was stopped entirely, the Hylian's strength far less than that of Jagon's. The Hylian withdrew his blade quickly, likely to defend any oncoming strikes from Jagon. Landing with his left foot behind him, as he completed his full about-face, Jagon continued rotating to his right. The sheath wielded in his left hand swung in at waist level to take Damien's right side. The sheath was made of Deku Ironwood, a material almost as sturdy as the metal of his sword. It would not break against plate armor, nor be cut by a blade.

As his left hand swung his, in effect, wooden blade at Damien's side, Nicholas was already behind the Hylian, slashing his sword. Both had made an attempt to catch Jagon's backside, but Damien had positioned himself between the two, and was now subject to being attacked from both ends. That is, unless Nicholas could stop himself. As his sheath neared Damien's side, he initiated a second slash with the blade in his right hand, keeping the tip of the blade low to the ground. Turning his wrist and reversing the direction in which the blade was already travelling, Jagon hoped to slash through Damien's shins, while he was busy dealing with Jagon's sheath and Nicholas' sword.

Damien grunted defiantly, inverting his sword in his hand and thrusting the point into the ground. He ducked low, dropping onto one knee and keeping tight to the ground as the deku ironwood scabbard collided with the blade of his sword. At the same time, his shield was in position to defend his left side.

Still, Jagon's backsword was flashing toward him quickly, and he had but a moment to react. Instead of simply hunker down behind his sword and shield, he decided to lower Jagon's sword with his left arm and shield. With a grunt, he threw his shield in the path of the sword, putting his weight down over the sword and forcing it closer to the ground. In effect, the sword began to wedge itself beneath him, while Damien pulled his sword free from the earth and let the deku ironwood scabbard throw his right side off.

Damien therefore barely managed to roll over Jagon's blade, with a helpful push from the scabbard, leaving him on the ground next to his enemy, and out of the path of Nicholas' sword.

Despite having survived the blows well enough, and despite the fact that he had not been wounded by any stretch of the term, he was not unharmed. The act of being flipped over his foe's swinging blade by the force of his own blows was a painful experience, to be sure. He was dazed from the odd collision he made with the ground after being rolled violently. In addition, both of his arms felt devastated by the blows that were blocked. His right arm was more-or-less fine, as it had not taken much of an impact, though it had been thrown sideways in the final moments of the maneuver. However, his left arm had taken quite a beating in the exchange, and felt at the very least badly bruised, but the bone was almost definitely fractured, and possibly even broken. Despite this, Damien forced himself through the pain to continue fighting.

Taking an opportunity he could not expect to come again soon, Damien lunged forward while scrambling to his feet after a brief roll to the left, trying to thrust his sword into Jagon's right flank. It was likely the blow would be blocked, but Damien could not fall back yet without delivering another blow of his own.

Nicholas was glad he had missed the foolish man, though he wished the man wouldn't throw himself into danger so recklessly. Sure, Nicholas had done the same thing, but he hadn't been beaten to crap first and had also come prepared for combat with powerful foes. Speaking of which, Nicholas pushed his right foot forward, taking an aggressive offensive stance as he pulled his blade upwards for another vertical slash, hoping to catch Jagon while he was recovering from his assault on the other Hylian.

If he could get his blade up into the air following the vertical slash, Nicholas was ready to step forward with his left foot and start a turn, his mind starting to focus on the movements and techniques he needed to use to execute a spin attack following the vertical slash. He could only follow with it though if his sword wasn't parried, and hoped that Jagon with step back instead so he could catch him with the technique of the Hylian Guard.