Post by The Smith on May 25, 2009 13:36:23 GMT -5
Jaime looked around himself desperately as the battle raged. Queen Saella looked like an ancient goddess of war with her dragons and Blackfyre that seemed to burn out a fire of its own. Whenever Blackfyre met an Other's sword an unearthly tone was let out, as if ice and fire decided to sing together. The song was so beautiful, yet terrifying. It made Jaime stop in the battle he was leading. An Other came to him laughing in a terrible icy way that can make one as scared as a kitten. He took out an obsidian dagger and thrust it in the place where a heart would be if the Other had one. They weren't only attacked by Others. Corpses with black hands and Icy blue eyes came to them as well, fighting with their fists or the weapons they picked up from the battlefield. Jaime couldn't even remember how much of the blackhands he cut down.
He looked at his left and he saw Maester Perestan standing alone on a small hill. With his right hand he put his obsidian candle in front of him while in his left he held the staff from Sothoryos. He muttered incantations in a language few understood and the candle was light. Suddenly, most of the blackhands around the Vale men turned to him and started to run towards him. Obsidian was dragonglass and it could kill others. Burning obsidian, however, was magic that could counter necromancy. Perestan rose the candle higher and the flame burst high. It became brighter and brighter and the old maester was speaking louder and louder as the dead men approached him. Suddenly a flash of light sent all the dead ones to the ground. The Others's necromancy was countered. Perestan leaned on his staff and breathed as heavily as if he just ran from Oldtown to the Wall. The magic he possessed was obviously powerful, but he paid a price for it.
On Jaime's right his father was dueling a tall white figure. Jaime became sort of accustomed to them through time. Before, when he saw one of them for the first time, the blood in his veins chilled out of fear. His father was exhausted and barely raised Lady Forlorn to parry the Other's hits. Jaime wanted to run to help him, but a corpse ran to him and he had to defend. After severing its head, he looked to his father. The Other brought his icy sword down on the lord of Corbray in an arch. Jaime shouted a no, even though he couldn't hear his own voice. The Other laughed chillingly as Jaime ran towards him. He formed a fist and hit the Other in the jaw. He felt his hand was cold, but the other at least stepped back a bit. He picked up Lady Forlorn from his father's body just in time to parry the Other. He hit fiercely as tears ran from his eyes, clouding his vision. He didn't even need eyes, he could feel where the Other was. He thrust Lady Forlorn deep through the damned creature and it collapsed to the floor.
Someone put a hand on his shoulder. It was Perestan. "May he find peace." Said the old man sadly. Jaime's rage cooked inside him like dragonfire. He ran forward to a group of Others that approached the Vale part of the army. He cut the Others down, but more came. They were like a plague that the humans can't get rid of. Just as he thought he would share his father's destiny, Motho ran next to him and dug his axe deep into an Others back. Next to him were Anne Stone, Maester Perestan and Ser Bennis Baelish. The five of them charged through the Others. Jaime was fighting them desperately with Lady Forlorn. He felt as if though it was a part of his hand. Not a piece of metal, rather his own bones and muscles. Bennis was fighting in his usual, calm, waterdancer's style. Anne was as skillful as ever, always screaming while charging. As if she was one of the furies that were so popular in Valyrian mythology. Motho wielded his axe as the clansmen usually do, trying to cut of as much limbs as he could. Perestan burned the Others with his candle and occasionally hit them with his staff only to move them back a step or two. When they killed that group of others, they looked to the sky.
It was burning. Queen Saella Targaryen was screaming with rage high in the air as the armies of the Others burned in the dragonfire and the fire from her sword. Suddenly, only two dragons were up in the sky, though one seemed to have trouble with a wing. Becawyr was on the ground. Jaime wondered where was the queen. It was over. The Others were destroyed. "Thank goodness." Muttered Perestan and sighed with relief. "It is over." Said Jaime and smiled faintly. It was a great victory and a great defeat. Becawyr, the greatest of the dragons was dead. So many men and women that fought for the future of Westeros were condamned to a cold, snowy grave.
Lord Jaime Corbray gains Legendary Swordsmanship
He looked at his left and he saw Maester Perestan standing alone on a small hill. With his right hand he put his obsidian candle in front of him while in his left he held the staff from Sothoryos. He muttered incantations in a language few understood and the candle was light. Suddenly, most of the blackhands around the Vale men turned to him and started to run towards him. Obsidian was dragonglass and it could kill others. Burning obsidian, however, was magic that could counter necromancy. Perestan rose the candle higher and the flame burst high. It became brighter and brighter and the old maester was speaking louder and louder as the dead men approached him. Suddenly a flash of light sent all the dead ones to the ground. The Others's necromancy was countered. Perestan leaned on his staff and breathed as heavily as if he just ran from Oldtown to the Wall. The magic he possessed was obviously powerful, but he paid a price for it.
On Jaime's right his father was dueling a tall white figure. Jaime became sort of accustomed to them through time. Before, when he saw one of them for the first time, the blood in his veins chilled out of fear. His father was exhausted and barely raised Lady Forlorn to parry the Other's hits. Jaime wanted to run to help him, but a corpse ran to him and he had to defend. After severing its head, he looked to his father. The Other brought his icy sword down on the lord of Corbray in an arch. Jaime shouted a no, even though he couldn't hear his own voice. The Other laughed chillingly as Jaime ran towards him. He formed a fist and hit the Other in the jaw. He felt his hand was cold, but the other at least stepped back a bit. He picked up Lady Forlorn from his father's body just in time to parry the Other. He hit fiercely as tears ran from his eyes, clouding his vision. He didn't even need eyes, he could feel where the Other was. He thrust Lady Forlorn deep through the damned creature and it collapsed to the floor.
Someone put a hand on his shoulder. It was Perestan. "May he find peace." Said the old man sadly. Jaime's rage cooked inside him like dragonfire. He ran forward to a group of Others that approached the Vale part of the army. He cut the Others down, but more came. They were like a plague that the humans can't get rid of. Just as he thought he would share his father's destiny, Motho ran next to him and dug his axe deep into an Others back. Next to him were Anne Stone, Maester Perestan and Ser Bennis Baelish. The five of them charged through the Others. Jaime was fighting them desperately with Lady Forlorn. He felt as if though it was a part of his hand. Not a piece of metal, rather his own bones and muscles. Bennis was fighting in his usual, calm, waterdancer's style. Anne was as skillful as ever, always screaming while charging. As if she was one of the furies that were so popular in Valyrian mythology. Motho wielded his axe as the clansmen usually do, trying to cut of as much limbs as he could. Perestan burned the Others with his candle and occasionally hit them with his staff only to move them back a step or two. When they killed that group of others, they looked to the sky.
It was burning. Queen Saella Targaryen was screaming with rage high in the air as the armies of the Others burned in the dragonfire and the fire from her sword. Suddenly, only two dragons were up in the sky, though one seemed to have trouble with a wing. Becawyr was on the ground. Jaime wondered where was the queen. It was over. The Others were destroyed. "Thank goodness." Muttered Perestan and sighed with relief. "It is over." Said Jaime and smiled faintly. It was a great victory and a great defeat. Becawyr, the greatest of the dragons was dead. So many men and women that fought for the future of Westeros were condamned to a cold, snowy grave.
Lord Jaime Corbray gains Legendary Swordsmanship