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SunlightHeart

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SunlightHeart last won the day on April 24 2014

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About SunlightHeart

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    Parasprite

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  • Gender
    Colt
  • Interests
    -Building computers
    -Drawing
    -Writing
    -Gaming
    -Hanging Out
    -Sleeping
    -Watching Anime
    -Destruction
    -Voicing my opinions and spitting on the shoes of those who believe my rights end where their feelings begin.

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  1. Grym nodded at Tune. With a quick twist of her neck, the mare scanned the group around her. Both Archon and Cold were in position and waiting. She took a deep breath, letting the familiar chill of battlefield adrenaline flow through her body. Her blades floated at her sides, ready to defend her at a moment's notice. Grym took hold of the door's handle with her magic. A single turn later, the barrier creaked open.
  2. Grym didn't particularly like the idea of both Midnight and Clover staying behind, but it was their choice to make. Instead of dwelling on it though, she gathered her wits and looked at the ponies who were still going to moving through the castle with her. Without the batpony's fighting skills their ranks would have a hole in them. A manageable hole, but a hole nonetheless. Nothing came up during their exploration of the castle depths. A few times Grym had been suspicious that there was a trap in the area or heard noises that sounded like the shuffling undead. Luckily, they'd all been false alarms, proving to be either mice or simple loose bricks. The truth was that the warden was nervous. Grym considered herself open to what she considered a tool to be used, but she was forever soured on necromancy. Her last encounter with the undead wasn't pleasant. To this day, it still haunted her dreams. She remembered every detail of it vividly; the stench, the discolored blood, the rotten flesh, all of it called attention to how much of a perversion to the natural forces such beings were. She sighed, and ran a hoof over her gut. An old scar hidden underneath her cream coat brought the memories closer too the surface. Suddenly, a voice, as incredible as it was horrible tore through the castle, rocking it's very foundations. That voice... she'd heard sounds like that... still heard them now. It buzzed with otherworldly power, like white noise in the back of her head. When she was a filly just discovering her magic, she'd heard voices, then later on out of desperation she communed with them. This was real. These necromancers had a demon on their side. Grym narrowly avoided a wall of dark fire that burst up from the ground and separated the team cleanly in twain. Whatever this fire was, it disgusted her. Instead of providing warmth, it sapped the heat, bringing with it a sense of acedia. Her ears folded against her head to protect them from the noise, but that only kept her from hearing whatever shouts were coming from the other side of the firestorm. Grym growled, knowing that their enemies plan was to split them up. There wasn't any choice though. Because of the fire, she'd been left with Cold, Archon, and Tune as a team... Most of the heavy fighters; however, Gossan was with Broken and Grym trusted the dog enough to watch over her companion. They weren't totally out of the fight though. There was a door off to their side, and if Teagan had given accurate directions, that is where they needing to go. "Nothing we can do about the fire," she said, trotting towards the door. "We'll have to keep moving to regroup." Her ears perked up at the scratching sounds from the other side of the door. The kennels? If it were so, there were war hounds on the other side of the door. The question now was, 'would they appreciate being released or will we have to put the down?' "Someone should be at the ready when I open this door."
  3. Grym rolled the stallion's words around in her mind. Teagan had informed them ofthe demon and from what little she knew, they truly resided in the Fade and were immaterial unless possessing a host. Even then, the demon was no more than a spirit puppeting flesh. He was right, the real battle would be held in the fade, away from the familiar world she knew. It wasn't a place that Grym was willing to traverse, she had neither the skill, nor the magecraft to survive there. Just as she was about to retract her statement about leaving him there, Aselia spoke up and revealing that she could perform spell needed. "Well then, Mage, it seems that your that your talents are not needed," Grym stated. It was Aselia's word against him, she may not have known the mare very long or in any personal manner, but having fought beside her, she did not doubt her magical abilities. However, this still brought up several questions such as who would be entering the fade? She knew that it wouldn't be her. Clover? She had no magic right now. That left Aselia and Broken... "You will likely be a hindrance to us as we move through the castle, so unless one of them--" she gestured to the group with her "--decides to let you out, you will be remaining here until this conflict is over. Then, the knights will come for you."
  4. "War winning intuition at it's finest," Grym said sarcastically. "Cold Iron, despite being in each of our acquaintances for only a few hours, has enough of a read on our talents to doubt that anyone here would have had a chance to spot a magical trap." Throughout her delivery, the mare's voice never shifted away from her dry monotone method of speech. There wasn't even a tell on her face. One would have missed any double-play in her words had she not emphasized what she wanted to call attention to. The group had not one, but three mages and a trap maker. None of them even had a chance to properly look at the room . Grym sighed, glad that at least the griffon was trying to take the situation seriously. "They're undead. Disposable shock troopers with no purpose other than to tire us out. More than likely we're just being softened up," she agreed with him. The sound of a sloppy kiss from behind her caused Grym to look over her shoulders. Again, Clover was engaged in a passionate show of affection with Midnight. While the warden didn't really care what they did, there was a time and a place for everything. This was neither the time, nor the place for what they were doing. "Clover..." Grym started. "What you did... you know what you did was idiotic, I doubt that you'll do it again. I don't know what you and Midnight have, but whatever it is keep it separate from the mission. We need to be alert; these undead won't spare you just because you're hot and bothered. Keep your tongue to yourself, or you just may lose it." Now the voice was asking for their assistance. It was likely a stallion by the voice, which meant it was not who she was looking for. "I say leave him. If he's a criminal, he's right where he should be; if he's only in there as protection from the undead, that's the perfect place for him and the knights will let him out once all of this blows over. Either way, he isn't vital vital."
  5. Not even a full minute in an they already had action. By the time the stranger had warned of the rune traps it was too late. Grym dipped into fighting stance, she let her eyes scan over the the swirling blackness as it sank into the piles of bones around the dungeon. Slowly, each felled warrior started to reanimate, their bodies' nothing more than shambling skeletons. Cold was immediately cut off from everyone, but that's what he got for breaking formation. A skeleton somehow managed to slip pasted her in the gap that Cold had created and got at Clover. Grym would have turned to quash the threat, but that would mean turning her back on greater numbers and that was NOT a good idea. Gritting her teeth, the warden accepted that Clover would just have to deal with the situation herself. Cold seemed to be handling the skeletons without his weapons, and even taking some sort of enjoyment out of it. He didn't even seem to care about the weakness he put into their ranks. Luckily, Tune stepped in beside Grym. Once again the stallion offered a bit of advice that she was more than willing to accept. "Smash their bones," she confirmed, nodding to him as she orientated her blades to their flats. The sharp edge would go through the bone easier, but she was reaching for maximum trauma. For a bard, Tune was proving to be an excellent asset and quite the fearless fighter, but he lacked the kill power that Cold did, meaning that while he could deter them, she'd have to be the one who actually neutralized the threats in their sector. With what needed to be done in mind, Grym went to work on the approaching undead. An armored undead and one with a rusted mace charged her, but she refused to move. Just as the mace wielding skeleton leapt at her, an arrow struck the weapon from its mouth leaving it flying through the air and vulnerable. Grym swung her blackened blade at the creature and scored a clean hit on its skull, sending bone shards across the dungeon and leaving the body to fall to pieces. The armored foe would have proved even trickier had Grym not known where the weaknesses in armor were located. Without flesh to absorb the blow, when she smashed her weapons into the armored back of the pony the metal did little to lessen the impact. A satisfying crunch and a pile of bones was all that she needed to confirm the effectiveness of the attack. To her side, Tune was doing his best to knock back a skeleton whenever he could, but his efforts would only stun them momentarily before they were back at it again. She looked to Tune, then to the undead before her. Taking a deep breath she focused on the feeling of both blades held in her magic; everything from weight, to shape, position, and texture became important. Her steel came to his aid, smashing the spine of a skeleton he'd just slammed. It was a a bit of a strain, but the support was the least she could do for taking up Cold's place and providing valuable tactical insight.
  6. Grym turned the stallion's words over in her head a few times and absorbed the wisdom. He was right in a way. Many leaders did have help, but this group was small and varied, even the smallest difference of opinion would be enough to completely destroy their teamwork. She already knew that her views differed greatly from Cold Iron's and with his 'behavior' he was likely to be more of a thorn in her flanks than the Dark Spawn. She sighed, watching Lucky Tune make his way to his position in the formation. Following in Tune's footsteps and the idea of getting to the gate controls as soon as possible. Now, she was faced with a dilemma, find the blacksmith's daughter first or let open the gates first. If she opened the gates first, the entire castle would be alerted and instantly on guard. Whoever was behind all of this would have be prepared for a large force to come for them; but if they didn't open the gates they'd essentially be wandering the castle alone. She promised that she'd do whatever she could to find Owen's daughter, but the risk was too great. "Our primary goal, as you all know, is the opening of the castle gates," Grym said without breaking stride. "Our second objective the location and rescue of the hand maid Valena." As they made their way down the tunnel, Midnight and Clover were still, doing whatever they were doing. It was a distraction that they didn't need right now. Eventually, they came to the end of it all and after pulling a lever, the false wall opened up into the dungeons, just as Teagan had explained. Grym was about to make sure that everyone was in position and knew what to do, but a pleading voice came echoing through the empty cells. The warden didn't trust anything in this stench-filled, corpse-lined dungeon. Before she could give a hold command, Clover foolishly answered, followed by Cold. She knew the stallion was an idiot, but this... this was a new lever stupidity. She whipped around to Clover, growling. She glared daggers at the mare and spoke in a low tone. "What are doing?! That outburst could cost us all our lives!" She turned her attention back to Cold who was walking away from the group. "And where are you going? ****it, we just just entered the castle and you're already putting everyone in danger!" She snarled at him. At least the mercenary seemed to have some common sense. Like him, Grym brandished her weapons and prepared herself for anything. "Midnight, control your mare. If there's a trap, let the fool spring it."
  7. Grym examined Tune's plan and listened to everything he had to say closely and without interrupting. It was simple, yet fully encompassing. She had thought along the same lines as he, and the fact that she was on the right path to a workable plan let her know that some of Grim Stride's tactical mindset. That, and focusing on the task at hand kept her mind off of Midnight and Clover's 'antics'. She had no idea when their thing happened, but hopefully it wouldn't hurt their performances. Truly, the pegasus was a talented planner which called attention to who he really was. She knew that he was some sort of bard, and that he had come with them in the hopes of meeting up with somepony in town. That objective was certainly dashed, seeing as he was here and not off with whatever mates he planned on making way with. "Lucky Tune, I don't know anything about you or why you're sticking around with us, but your insight may just get us through this. Now, I believe we should catch up with the rest of the group," she said looking over her shoulder at the others as they made their way down the hatch. Rolling her neck, Grym turned from the stallion. "That map will do us well, a secondary objective of mine may require a bit of exploration so it should be no addition hassle." The mare adjusted her weapons and armor before following behind the group. Honestly, she was feeling overwhelmed. She wasn't the leader like Tune seemed to think. She was just the lucky surviving warden; a mare with no stock in the world who was simply swept away chasing her only remaining purpose. "Now, lets get this over with." With a final nod, she jumped down the trap door, landing with a thud. "Alright," she addressed everyone there. "You heard Lucky Tune." He gaze traveled over their group and skipped over Cold as she waited for the last member of their entourage.
  8. Grym watched the ponies before her with an odd mixture of disinterest, concern, and a hint of curiosity. Even though she didn't have all of the information, she could tell that their group was falling apart at the seems. That was to be expected though, afterall, only Midnight was pledged to her and only Gossan seemed to agree with her methods. Other than Broken everyone else was a mixed bag. Tune only wanted to get to Redcliffe, well, here he was, why was he still following them? Aselia had started off promising, but seemed to be growing more unstable with each passing moment. Clover was a good mage and a deadly archer, but was this really the setting for her? Then there was Cold... a loud mouthed, outspoken, confrontational, pony who was just as good of a warrior as her or Gossan, all wrapped up in a package shaped like many mares' ideal prince charming. Grym scoffed. This group... What was she going to do with them? Luckily, some of the issues that had been springing up were resolving themselves. Broken's staff was temporarily replaced with Clover's bow, Cold decided to reinforce Clover's morality by apologizing and offering her protection during the their mission in the castle, and Archon had decided to talk to the brooding Aselia. Good, it wasn't her job to babysit adults. With all of that moving towards their own solutions, Grym was free to fully take in the directions Teagan had given them. If she remembered correctly, Tune had been the one to create the traps in town and had been the one giving advice about positioning and battlefield advantage. That's what they needed right now, so he was the stallion she needed to speak with. "Make sure your knights are ready, Teagan." As expected, he was in the company of his buddy, Gossan. Trotting over to the pair, Grym gave both of them a nod of acknowledgement. "From what I remember, Tune, you are the one who directed the use of traps during the battle, correct? There implementation was instrumental in holding back the enemies. As you seem to be a pony with a firm grasp on the flow of traffic in an urban setting, I'd like your opinion. Even though these undead wield weaponry, they are still slow, meaning that their advantages are numbers and stamina, but within the confines of the Castle interior, she should be able to minimize the amount of enemies we fight at one time. Do you have any ideas on what areas we should avoid and how we should fight to give us the best chance of survival?"
  9. In her mind Grym cursed herself for not letting this town burn to the ground, but she needed the Arl and these d@mned zombies and now apparently, a demon, stood between her and her goals (one of which was a little closer to her than she'd like to admit). More likely than not, this 'demon' was just a necromancer playing with forces that they didn't understand. Memories flooded her mind, cutting at her psyche and reopening old wounds. Try as she might, she couldn't fight the frown forming across her muzzle. She barely even noticed Pennant leading Broken away to the help the knights. Grym wasn't even a mage, but she knew how important it was to conserve her magic if they were to assault the castle and complete their objectives... apparently these knights didn't. She couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer. "Any more information for us?" Grym asked dryly. It wasn't what she actually wanted to say, but by this point she just wanted to be done with Redcliffe.
  10. Grym met his smile with a flat expression, never showing any other emotion than a barely hidden want for him to get it over with. She lets her eyes scan over the survivors within the chantry as milled about, everyone performing some small task. She couldn't help but feel bored with the entire thing though. She saw the looks some of the ponies shot her when they thought sh wasn't paying attention, respect or not, not even being a their 'hero' and a Grey Warden could stop her from being a filthy maleficar in the eye of the general populace. What the Bann was saying was mostly just window dressing to the mare, adding absolutely nothing of content to her understanding of the situation so it went in one ear and out the other. However, when Teagan mentioned Perth, her hears perked up. The stallion he wanted to see had perished in the fight, so he was literally chasing ghosts. He didn't know that though. The two walked together, Teagan surveying the damage while Grym simply matched his pace, having had a first pony view of carnage while it was actually happening. He added some more fluff to their conversation, mentioning how the town thanked them for what they'd done. What did the thanks of these ponies mean to her? Instead of really listening, she went about searching for any chance of Broken. The mare had disappeared a while ago and Grym was starting to grow worried. Finally, the Bann told her that he'd tell her of the secret passage, but first he wanted her to gather up her companions. "I will return shortly. And Perth, as Pennant will tell you, perished during the conflict," she informed him, trotting off. It didn't take her long to spot Broken dragging corpses and Archon telling her to change her focus. The sight of her fellow warden was enough to put her heart at ease and almost bring a small smile to her... that is, until she saw the arrow stuck in her side. When she suddenly winced and fell back on her rump. Grym's eyes widened and she rushed over the other unicorn, inspecting her wound the moment she made it to her. "Ok..." Grym sighed, relieved. "This isn't too bad." She looked over to Archon. "If you two can handle this, I have to gather the others and meet Teagan again. Broken, one you're fixed up, conserve your strength and come find me. Remember, we can't waste time and energy here." She didn't want to leave the mare, but staying would make her out to be some sort of hypocrite. "I'll see you in after you're patched up." Grym backpedaled and turned away from the two. Grym knew where Cold was, but she refused to look at him right now for various reasons. Instead, she trotted over to where she saw Tune and Gossan apparently sharing a moment. "Teagan says that he has something we all want to hear." She eyed Gossan's beat up body, impressed that he was still standing.
  11. Grym nodded curtly, saying nothing to Pennant as she prepared to trot off in search of Teagan. Just as she raised her leg to leave, a hoof on her chest barred her progress. The mare sneered. What did Cold want? Was he going to B1tch about her dispassionate interactions with the soldiers, maybe he'd jump on her about the way she treated Perth and the old dead soldiers during the battle. Grym's mind was already working out ways to brush off his tirade on morality. She opening her mouth, preparing to tell him to leave him be, but before any words could leave her mouth she was hit with a surprise hook to the jaw. It wasn't hard enough to do any damage and carried with it an odd sort of softness. Grym didn't get to curse or growl or protest in any manner. His hooves pulled her in close, allowing the stallion to dive in for a kiss. She whimpered in surprised, still mostly dazed from Cold's actions to properly react to the situation. The meeting of their lips briefly reminded her of better times; flashes of Onyx and his kin fought for supremacy in her mind while the rational side of her tried to remind her body of what was happening back in reality. A shiver ran through Grym's body when she felt his tongue breached her lips and explored the inside of her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, but the moment it felt the the right thing to do was the moment that reality chose to make itself know with all the subtly of a firebomb. Cold Iron was kissing her, and she was kissing him. She reached out to shove the stallion away, but he was already pulling away making it look as if she were reaching for him. Not the message that she wanted to send. His comment was lost on her. "I... Wha... you... huh?!" she stammered, falling on her rump. Her brain couldn't, no it wouldn't process what just happened. She stared at him for a moment, gently rubbing the cheek he'd struck. Grym snorted, trying to find anger. It was there, but there was so much confusion weighing it down that she failed to dredge it up. "Ugh!" Grym pointed a hoof a Cold. "You, k-keep your d@mn hooves off of m-me!" She yelled, standing up and marching away from the two ponies. Even plastering the deepest frown she could manage on her face couldn't hide the rose colored tint visible through the fur on her cheeks. By the time the heat in her face faded, Grym had made it to the Chantry. The sight of a unicorn entering a holy place turned a few heads both inside and outside of the building. Any problems they had, however, were quashed with a firm look from the Warden. It wasn't too difficult to find the Bann among the throng of ponies. He was currently instructing them to double check the barriers and fortifications to the building, already preparing for the next time. Grym walked throw the relieved ponies, weaving and shoving past any who got in her way. Stepping out of the crowd, she cleared her throat, getting the Bann's attention. "It's done, Teagan."
  12. Sliding her blades out of the creatures neck, Grym let all of the adrenaline drain from her body. She shivered lightly, suddenly fatigued now that the excitement of battle had died down. With just a thought, she used her telekinesis to flick the darkened ichor off of her swords. Her weapons were nowhere spotless, but her impromptu cleaning would have to do for now. During the fighting the warden had heard calls pointing out another foe separate the ranks of the undead, a summoner perhaps. Whoever it was they'd managed to avoid her eyes, thus they'd get to live for a while longer. Her goal was still to get into the castle and bail the Arl out of whatever trouble he was in as well as rescue the blacksmith's daughter. Her swords smoothly entered their sheathes as Grym tiredly trotted away from battle, her body yelling for her rest. Several new cuts and bruises marred her body from the ordeal that they'd just endured; if the mare ware truly worn out, she didn't show it in her gait. A quick sweep of the battlefield showed the knights and militia mopping up a few straggling zombies, but there was no sign of Broken or Midnight anywhere. Grym didn't understand why, but she trusted Midnight to watch out for the other warden. She could only hope that Broken made it through all of this alive. Walking passed Tune, Gossan, and Archon, she gave them each a respectful nod, each having shown that they could handle themselves adequately. The mare's wandering brought her to to the ground of knights. Every stallion was winding down from the fight and doing a check of the dead. Neither concerned her at the moment. Grym managed to spot Cold and Pennant. Snorting, she stormed towards them, purpose filling her stride. It didn't take her long to reach the two stallions. She let Cold give them a word of praise before speaking her piece. "Where's Teagan?" she demanded dryly.
  13. Grym knew that their timely intervention was the only reason she still drew breath, but now wasn't the time for congratulations and pats on the back. Their foe was off balance and vulnerable, but the monster was already working to correct its position. Gossan had managed to get clear from the tumbling colossus, just in time and was already back in the fight the moment he had recovered. The Dog hammered away at armor, the heavy axe blades earning him cries of pain from the creature. Just as Gossan was about to make real head way though, the revenant bucked its head forward, delivering a mighty headbutt which sent him flying off. Grym didn't bother following the arch of the flying fighter, he'd shrug this off. Instead, he focused on the still recovering and now more vulnerable foe in front of her. Darting forward, her lungs burning for air from the effort she put into blocking its previous strike, she manuevered herself to get a clear shot under its chin where it was mostly unarmored. Taking careful aim, her swords quivering mid air, the mare thrust forward with both of her blades, hoping to pierce straight through the base of this beast's jaw and sever it's brain stem. They needed to take this thing down and mope up the town so that they could get to the Arl and this thing was draining their stamina much to quickly.
  14. Does every PC builder have the same screwdriver set? Seriously, 6/7 people ive built computers with or seen pics as they build have that same screwdriver set.
  15. Welcome, young Guardian, to the den of the Black Blade Consortium. It is our mission to continue the survival of those in the light by ensuring that we have a pertinent presence on the combat front. The Consortium seeks to challenge Darkness at every chance, from every angle and mercilessly extinguish it. --- Black Blade Consortium is a Clan of with quality of experience in mind. The goal of this group is to promote social gameplay, though a hardcore aspect is expected as well. BBC is a welcoming group open to all ages and all sorts of players. We welcome Rpers, farmers, PvP specialists, etc... Black Blade Consortium is multiplatform. Heck you don't even need to have the game to join! Just enjoy destiny, know about it, and want to be a part of that world. Black Blade clan page
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