Post by Omarion on Apr 7, 2010 17:24:18 GMT -5
The cool fluid traveled down his throat smoothly, giving him a sense of refreshment. The angel commander lowered the water skin from his lips and tossed it back to the soldier it had come from. It wasn’t often he chose to indulge himself with refreshment while out in the field. It wasn’t something the Cerys normally allowed unless it was required, as it was for him now. Hell, Zerek had starved him and his siblings more than once as part of their training. Fighting when you were undernourished was an entirely different experience than when you had a constant supply of food and water in your belly. It had been a very rough and stern section of training, but it’s purpose had crafted Omarion into what he was today. Every part of him, from the greaves that protected his lower legs, to the chestpiece that protected his vital organs and torso, had been carefully conditioned and trained to one day lead angels in combat.
The Cerys angel shot out a torrent of saliva as he glanced around the outskirts of this ruined city. The angels around him however, were not as stable as he was, standing with arms crossed and eyes set. They were on the move, checking the bodies that lay all around the angelic leader, for he stood in the middle of a battlefield. The growing stench of decaying flesh had assaulted his nose long ago, and for now he’d blocked out the uncomfortable smell to keep his mind where it was meant to be. The bodies around him held evidence of claw marks and more traditional weaponry. Even the youngest angel would be able to determine that the shape shifting creatures of this world had been here and caused this. Of course, the battle that took place at this location had to be related to the recent attack on their farmlands.
The chosen tactic of the shape shifters wasn’t one unknown to the angels, however you would not see many commanders of angelic descent choosing to attack farms over the enemy itself. Most saw it as a cowardly tactic and thusly, opted to divvy away from it when the opportunity presented itself. The Cerys were different though. Cerys commanders kept their eyes on the entire situation and the best way to cripple the enemy. Attacking supply lines and production facilities usually opted for a weaker enemy to deal with. A weaker enemy meant less troop losses, and that was the ultimate goal in such tactics. Whoever was leading this band of shape shifters had a tactical mind like many Cerys commanders, and thus, would prove to be a challenging mind to go up against. It had been a long while since Omarion had ever been presented a suitable challenger for war tactics, but it seemed he’d found one.
“Commander.” The sound of one of his men caused the Cerys to shift his vision to the man. He said nothing, only let his gaze rest on the opposite angels eyes as his que to begin speaking. “All we found are dead. Nothing lives.” Omarion simply nodded and looked back towards the city.
“Prepare the pyres.”
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A loose formation moved across the sand in the specific direction of Namaesti. Sand was crunched under armored feet as the troop pushed on. Yet Omarion, found himself sweating profusely, and it wasn’t the type of sweat created by a blazing sun. It was came too swiftly and his body had already adapted to day’s covered in metallic armor while residing in the hot sun, all angels were. On top of that, his movements felt sluggish, almost as if extra weight had been stuck to his legs. He trudged on with this new extra weight coupled with the weapons and armor on his body. Outwardly, he hid this from the men and women with him just as he’d been taught to during his childhood. It would not be the best of circumstances if they witnessed him in this weakened state.
Of course his mind began to travel over the reasons for why this had suddenly occurred. Many many theories went through his mind, but not one of them had added up. Everything he’d done this day had been no different from any other day on this world. It was then, he started to mentally tally up everything he’d gone about during this day alone, to simply find the cause of the problem.
A sudden impact o the ground caused Omarion to shift his eyes down to angel nearby. There on the ground, the male that had alerted him of the fatalities, was on the ground unconscious, sweat covering his entire face as well. The angelic commanders breath was labored as he gestured towards another angel to pick up their fallen brother. They had to get back to Namaesti before all of them shared the same fate as that one.
The Cerys angel shot out a torrent of saliva as he glanced around the outskirts of this ruined city. The angels around him however, were not as stable as he was, standing with arms crossed and eyes set. They were on the move, checking the bodies that lay all around the angelic leader, for he stood in the middle of a battlefield. The growing stench of decaying flesh had assaulted his nose long ago, and for now he’d blocked out the uncomfortable smell to keep his mind where it was meant to be. The bodies around him held evidence of claw marks and more traditional weaponry. Even the youngest angel would be able to determine that the shape shifting creatures of this world had been here and caused this. Of course, the battle that took place at this location had to be related to the recent attack on their farmlands.
The chosen tactic of the shape shifters wasn’t one unknown to the angels, however you would not see many commanders of angelic descent choosing to attack farms over the enemy itself. Most saw it as a cowardly tactic and thusly, opted to divvy away from it when the opportunity presented itself. The Cerys were different though. Cerys commanders kept their eyes on the entire situation and the best way to cripple the enemy. Attacking supply lines and production facilities usually opted for a weaker enemy to deal with. A weaker enemy meant less troop losses, and that was the ultimate goal in such tactics. Whoever was leading this band of shape shifters had a tactical mind like many Cerys commanders, and thus, would prove to be a challenging mind to go up against. It had been a long while since Omarion had ever been presented a suitable challenger for war tactics, but it seemed he’d found one.
“Commander.” The sound of one of his men caused the Cerys to shift his vision to the man. He said nothing, only let his gaze rest on the opposite angels eyes as his que to begin speaking. “All we found are dead. Nothing lives.” Omarion simply nodded and looked back towards the city.
“Prepare the pyres.”
--------------------------------------
A loose formation moved across the sand in the specific direction of Namaesti. Sand was crunched under armored feet as the troop pushed on. Yet Omarion, found himself sweating profusely, and it wasn’t the type of sweat created by a blazing sun. It was came too swiftly and his body had already adapted to day’s covered in metallic armor while residing in the hot sun, all angels were. On top of that, his movements felt sluggish, almost as if extra weight had been stuck to his legs. He trudged on with this new extra weight coupled with the weapons and armor on his body. Outwardly, he hid this from the men and women with him just as he’d been taught to during his childhood. It would not be the best of circumstances if they witnessed him in this weakened state.
Of course his mind began to travel over the reasons for why this had suddenly occurred. Many many theories went through his mind, but not one of them had added up. Everything he’d done this day had been no different from any other day on this world. It was then, he started to mentally tally up everything he’d gone about during this day alone, to simply find the cause of the problem.
A sudden impact o the ground caused Omarion to shift his eyes down to angel nearby. There on the ground, the male that had alerted him of the fatalities, was on the ground unconscious, sweat covering his entire face as well. The angelic commanders breath was labored as he gestured towards another angel to pick up their fallen brother. They had to get back to Namaesti before all of them shared the same fate as that one.