Thread: Seal #3 - Wave 3 + Some (Post One)

The battle rages across the field, full engagement has happened. The field is littered with bodies of the injured and dying. Brother fights against brother, sister against sister. Standing tall in the middle of it a creature of legend, surrounded by creatures of nightmare, as the earth itself seems to spit out its putrid dead, yawning maws opening to swallow those above who walked its face.

A bugle sounds out from a rise to the west of the main battle, the call to assembly. There on a large white horse sits Cahill, dressed in full Confederate regalia, his cavalry sword extended into the air in front of him. Planted in the ground next to him is a very large confederate flag. To either side of him, all astride horses of such size they must have been fed vitae, are the elders of the city, the ‘shadow’ court. They stand arrayed for battle, each in their own style. Cahill waves his sword in the air, slashing down just as the young boy on the ground next to him sounds the call for Charge!

The horses leap into action, racing down the slope, leaping over the chasms in the earth as the wind picks up and the ground begins to apparently heal itself. As it does so the Gangrel still trapped there scream out final cries as death takes them and many ash instantly. The Elders ride through, eyes across the battlefield being drawn to them, especially the ever lovely Miss Kensington who seems to draw the eyes of even their opponents, a flashing sword slashing about her as she rides, body parts flying off of their opponents until they clash with thunderous rumble of flesh slamming into flesh with a solid wall of their opponents. Cahill can be heard shouting orders over the din as the battle is joined.

* * * * * * * * * *

The wind whips around the tall grass, everywhere it touches the ground closes, sealing itself back to its original state, with no regard to those trapped in the crevices. Mini and James McCagin are fighting a defensive retreat, their big gun taken away from them. Creatures keep clawing at them, wounds appearing across their flesh as they slowly try to make it back to the safety of their own lines, neither of them equipped to be a front line solo fighter. James trips and slips into a crevice. Mini whirls around and grabs for him, the wind is whipping up even higher, swirling around the open plains faster and faster, throwing up dirt and bits of grass to further add to the chaos of battle. Just as Mini grabs James’ hand, a creature jumps on his back, sinking fangs into his neck and sucking for all it is worth, Mini screams in shock and pain. James tries to climb back out of the crevice, but the wind whips up, whistling past them and the ground snaps shut, Mini looking into James eyes as the horror of his own death dawns on him and the ground snaps shut.

Mini screams, jumping up, wrestling with the thing on his back, flipping over and slamming it into the ground. Maddalena sees James fall, watches as the thing jumps Mini. She looks over at Gregory Carlisle; he stands next to her, watching the proceedings with a slight grin on his face.

“Gregory, save Mini, do it for me!” Maddalena commands. Gregory looks at her, his eyes filled with devotion, love and hatred all blended together.

“But of course,” he says running towards Mini. He runs and jumps, tackling the creature on Mini, rolling with it, but as he does so, he is surrounded. The things fall on him and he is lost to sight, surely dead as well. Mini struggles to his feet, his head spinning from loss of blood he staggers towards Maddalena.