Open RP Ragnarök [Vol 1]

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The shield came flying toward her as Wolfhound began to distract Valkyrie. It gave her just enough time to catch the shield in her gloved hand, feeling the sharp edge almost cutting into her hand. It hurt a lot to catch it, and she could feel where the deep bruising in her hand would be later on. But it was better than the alternative of it cutting through her neck, which is where she had caught it.

She stayed like that for half a second before extending the shield back out and using its sharp edge to take out two more of the wakeful dead who had closed in on her. She trusted Wolfhound to distract Valkyrie for a moment as she dispatched the bodies with the woman’s own shield. It worked effectively to cut through their fragile bodies and crumple them.

“You know, it’s rude to throw things at people. Didn’t your mommy teach you better?” Phoenix spun in a half circle, facing the fight again. She used that momentum to throw the shield back at Valkyrie’s back, aiming to bury it in her shoulder. As she did so, she superheated the shield. It crackled under the push of heat through wood and steel, but it heated up. It left her fingers in a sharp spin back toward the tall woman. Phoenix trusted Wolfhound to not get hit by the flying disk either.​
 
It was like feeding, and hunting, his blade was his fangs and it sought warm flesh for it's meal. Strike, parry, counter, riposte, back and forth. The Wolfhound snarled a grin, his swings came with growls and roars of rage-full passion. They were near evenly matched in speed and skill, and Connor found that he loved it. His heart was light, his body full, it felt good, it felt right. He was giddy, saliva dripped from his maw.

In their swirling circles of death Connor had turned his back towards Sam, he'd seen her catch the shield from Valkyrie like it was frisbee, he heard it now returning through the air vibrating like a tuning fork. Locking his blade with Valkyrie's he shoved her hard to make space and hopefully dislodge her footing, he then bent forward, dodging under the flying shield as it flew eight over his head. The Wolfhound came up from his dive and spinned, gathering momentum to arc his blade towards his opponents side just as the shield hit it's mark at the same time.
 


Steel screamed, as did the corpses of those who were under Veljara’s sway. Her shield, wielded in the hands of the Phoenix, rent them in twain. The Wolfhound slavered as their blades met again and again, his gnashing teeth begging to take a hunk from her flesh. The valkyrie would not let him dine upon her, no. His final meals would be within Hel’s hallowed halls. He pushed and she gave, sliding backwards as he dropped down. Veljara saw the shield in time, but caught the Wolfhound’s attack too late. Her gaze flew between the two warriors, weighting each option.

The shield buried into her shoulder, the metal hissing as it struck true. Veljara braced herself with a step back. She had expected the pain, but not the heat. As the Woflhound swung his sword her own snapped out to grab his, to intercept and redirect, to force it down into the dirt. Veljara let her blade fall, instead reaching up to grab the shield. The harsh cry of tearing metal echoed across the battlefield as Veljara ripped her own shield in half, still leaving part of it embedded within her. The metal was still warm under her touch and a thought came to her.

The Phoenix was immune to flames, but the child of
Fenrisúlfr
has no such predilection.

Flames licked along her arms, her golden gauntlets flashing in the light they threw. The valkyrie stabbed at the Wolfhound with the superheated shard of her own shield, not caring whether it struck or not. Her real fight was with the Phoenix. The air around her grew warmer as the flames of Muspelheim grew around her, wreathing her body, the edges of flames trailing behind her back. It would be so easy, it would be so right, but not yet. They must wait.

Leaving the Hound to deal with her dead, Veljara rushed to meet Phoenix, flaming spear coalescing in her hand. She sought to simply run her through, the flaming weapon itself hard as forged steel. The dead would find themselves directed to attack the Hound, to overwhelm him with numbers and fire, their glowing claws, begging for his blood.

Before she could unleash wings of her own, Veljara would clip the Phoenix’s.
Code by Reyn
 

The spear was coming at her, a retaliation for the half of the shield still buried in the Valkyrie’s shoulder. A good hit, but one that had only served to anger the flaming warrior. As she advanced on Phoenix, she could see that the dead had turned on her companion. She could trust Wolfhound to hold his own, however, so she paid it little attention as she coiled heat and tension in her legs.

As the Valkyrie approached, she took in a deep breath and let it out in a hiss of hot air as she threw herself into the air. The spear dragged, hot enough for her to tell it was hot, across her side as she flipped over it. She felt her suit– which was designed to take knives and bullets– tear across her side, letting the spear pierce her skin and drag a long line of blood from her skin. She winced at the feeling. It had been a long time since something had damaged her suit, and longer still since she’d taken damage like this. The flames, which should have cauterized the wound on any normal person, did nothing to her skin.

She continued her flip through the air, using the heat she’d coiled in her thighs and calves to force her faster and harder through the air. And just as expected, her flip brought her just high enough, and at just the right angle, to drive her knee forward and into Valkyrie’s face. Phoenix smiled, her teeth sharp under her new feathered mask. Unless Valkyrie had some hidden speed, then this hit was sure to land and disorient her.

After all, she had to retaliate for the new tear in her suit. The thing was a bitch to fix.​
 
Connor's eyes widened as his sword was forced into the ground, heat blasted him in the face as he strained against Valkyrie. Not realizing how much heat and pressure was being applied to the very center of his blade until.

SNAP!

Connor stumbled as his sword snapped in two, the broken hilt remaining in his hands. He could barely form thoughts as Valkerie tore the shield that was embedded her. She took the now heated shard and plunged it into the Wolfhound's shoulder. The blazing hot metal burned and the wound was deep. Connor roared in pain as he stumbled back.

He was in a daze, his vision was tainted red. He could smell everything, fire, blood, Sam. Sam, she needed his help, she needed him to fight. Blood trickled down his body. Connor's blood. Wolfhound's blood. The Beasts blood. He was surrounded, by enemies, by flesh, by threats. His brain struggled, the beast inside was backed into a corner. He stared at the broken shattered edge of his sword.

Despite broken, the blade was still sharp.

Connor was tired, his control was slipping, the energy to keep the beast inside. The bank robbery had cracked his fences, and the splinters were beginning the show. The beast pressed against the barrier, it raged against it's chains. The Wolfhound was angry, he was tired, he was done with this city, and these people, and this noise, and these smells, and these motherfucking zombies. An inch, he opened the doors to the cage an inch. The world wanted to draw out his fury, why not give them the taste? Dully, in the back of his mind, Connor did hear a voice cautioning him.

"Wowacintanka, patience."

The Wolfhound was tired of patience.

With a roar he pulled out the sharp piece of shield embedded in his shoulder. With the shard in one bloody fist, and his broken sword in another the Wolfhound grew in size. This was slightly different than his other small transformations. Bone snapped, muscles twanged and shifted, his jaw became unhinged. His fangs almost seemed to grow. Veins popped all over his morphing flesh, his pupils dilating so greatly that all colour could no longer be seen. Connor still remained, if only just, and he reveled in this release.

The Hound charged forward, the two broken blades carving through the draugr left and right. His blood spattering everywhere; as he bounded towards Valkyrie. He leapt and drove both of the blades down towards her back, regardless if they connect the Hound would dip down on all fours to maneuver to her left side. Leaping up with an open maw, fangs heading straight for his prey's side.
 
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