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Re: Praise the Sun. (Mind Flayer)
ICHIRO MOVE! Praetor bellowed, one half second too late as a spirit, the spirit of Mifyza glowing and incorporeal rushed him from the undead horde, smashing his fist... Harmlessly through his cheek, throwing Luna out of his body with a powerful crash, before slamming his reformed hand up into Ichiro's chest, stopping his heart, and Vila's, for several long moments. I give you Back what was Stolen... he Hissed, before he turned his gaze to Praetor, and smiled as the Anti-Paladin raised the skull and banished him to the eternal and terrible wanderings he had promised Luna and Sehanine he would go to.
Ichiro however was having a much harder time of things. His heart had literally been stopped, something destroyed in him, something that had grown over the years obliterated in an instant by the Shaman's last touch as Mifyza made good on his promise.
Ichiro was Forced to shift, the blood rising in his body while Vila screamed and cried in obvious pain as the link with the Sprite was severed cleanly, her chest opening as she struggled just to stay alive, the other Paladins rushing to his side, but too late, as the first shifting since his capture took him along with the bloodlust as he gazed up at the massive figure of a full Blood Moon high in the air of the night, and immediately waded into the horde, laying absolute death and judgement with his blade, the power of Pelor still singing in his blood while he shifted fully, his body going feral to the literal extreme as bones cracked and reformed, as his eyes slitted and the world around him became sharper to every since, faster, stronger, more violent, as he reconsecrated, and then obliterated, every undead that came within his reach, his blade Shattering with the power within it as he went back into the fray regardless with fist, and tooth, and claw.... By the time Praetor had gotten to him, that Agatha had held him and Loran had forced him down, the lust was fading, and over an hour had passed.
His chest hurt, but Vila was clinging tightly to Agatha's shirt, her wound healed, but her chest and back scarred badly while Loran and Agatha held him down, Praetor chanting to bring him out of his bloodlust and his rage. The battle was over, the undead were fleeing now under the combined assault of the remaining paladins, and the Blue Falcons, a mercenary troupe he was familiar with working with expert efficiency. No No no! Ichiro! Come back to me. Come on God damnit! Agatha shouted, Vila not thinking it safe, and still in shock from the severing of their bond, too weak to move from her perch with Praetor.
ICHIRO MOVE! Praetor bellowed, one half second too late as a spirit, the spirit of Mifyza glowing and incorporeal rushed him from the undead horde, smashing his fist... Harmlessly through his cheek, throwing Luna out of his body with a powerful crash, before slamming his reformed hand up into Ichiro's chest, stopping his heart, and Vila's, for several long moments. I give you Back what was Stolen... he Hissed, before he turned his gaze to Praetor, and smiled as the Anti-Paladin raised the skull and banished him to the eternal and terrible wanderings he had promised Luna and Sehanine he would go to.
Ichiro however was having a much harder time of things. His heart had literally been stopped, something destroyed in him, something that had grown over the years obliterated in an instant by the Shaman's last touch as Mifyza made good on his promise.
Ichiro was Forced to shift, the blood rising in his body while Vila screamed and cried in obvious pain as the link with the Sprite was severed cleanly, her chest opening as she struggled just to stay alive, the other Paladins rushing to his side, but too late, as the first shifting since his capture took him along with the bloodlust as he gazed up at the massive figure of a full Blood Moon high in the air of the night, and immediately waded into the horde, laying absolute death and judgement with his blade, the power of Pelor still singing in his blood while he shifted fully, his body going feral to the literal extreme as bones cracked and reformed, as his eyes slitted and the world around him became sharper to every since, faster, stronger, more violent, as he reconsecrated, and then obliterated, every undead that came within his reach, his blade Shattering with the power within it as he went back into the fray regardless with fist, and tooth, and claw.... By the time Praetor had gotten to him, that Agatha had held him and Loran had forced him down, the lust was fading, and over an hour had passed.
His chest hurt, but Vila was clinging tightly to Agatha's shirt, her wound healed, but her chest and back scarred badly while Loran and Agatha held him down, Praetor chanting to bring him out of his bloodlust and his rage. The battle was over, the undead were fleeing now under the combined assault of the remaining paladins, and the Blue Falcons, a mercenary troupe he was familiar with working with expert efficiency. No No no! Ichiro! Come back to me. Come on God damnit! Agatha shouted, Vila not thinking it safe, and still in shock from the severing of their bond, too weak to move from her perch with Praetor.
