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Something Wicked This Way Comes

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Date

Oct. 14, 2023, 4 p.m.

Hosted By

Herja

GM'd By

Herja Smile

Participants

Liara Triton Mirk Mabelle(RIP) Rosalind Aconite Pasquale Ian Ryhalt Raymesin Enyo Eirene Denica Lucita Lys Medeia Aindre Elora Raven Tesha Lou Magaen Sydney Petraea Nadir Crawfish Smile

Organizations

Location

Outside Arx - Crownlands near Arx - Outside Arx

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


Triton wields a pair of dark brown caestus with gleaming alaricite bear claws.

Raven wields Blackheart Halfmoon Blade.

Nadir takes Black Studded Leather Plackart from a cloth bag.

Aconite wields Serpentine Grace, a cupridium kris.

Raja wields Serpent's Embrace.

Elora gets noble cupridium bow with pewter and silver accents from exquisite leather quiver.

Nadir takes Bronze Studded Leather Bracers from a cloth bag.

Elora wields noble cupridium bow with pewter and silver accents.

Elora gets enchanted golden wolf oathlands style dagger from black leather belt bag for healers.

Medeia wields The Ender of Queens, a stygian-handled rubicund stiletto.

Liara wields Elvesbane, the longsword of House Grayson.

Mabelle wields Frosting Spreader - a brightly colored wide seax.

Eirene wields Dawnstrike, an elegant diamondplate longsword.

Rosalind wields a diamondplate bow with a spruce green leather grip.

Cillian wields Stormpiercer, the Longbow of House Blackwood.

Denica wields Little Devil, a fire-scorched diamondplate scramasax.

Sydney wields gleaming cestus of forged alaricite.

Aksel wields Stone's Remorse the Axe of Stonedeep.

Magaen wields Falx, a Glacial Grove inspired sickle weapon.

Katarina wields Intricately forged ancient steel stiletto.

Dominique wields Wyrmshaven, an elegant alaricite blade.

Pasquale wields True Shot, an alaricite bow.

Raymesin wields The Wheel's Edge, a diamondplate dagger.

Tesha wields wings from the ashes diamondplate longblade with elegant flames handle.

Aindre wields Beacon, a handsome diamondplate warhammer.

Lucita wields plain but sturdy dagger.

Enyo wields Vengence, a diamondplate sword.

At dusk, the trumpets blare announcing the sighting of armies in the distance. In the hours between sunset and nightfall, the city mobilizes. Those who need protection are placed into safe spaces. A sizable crowd gathers in the Cathedral to pray while Arx's defenders arrange themselves to prepare for the worst. The sounds come first. The sounds of chewing, slithering, chittering, like the city is about to be confronted with a swarm of insects rather than an army. The heads of plantgantuans are seen just over the treeline or, at least, what remains of it as the army knocks down anything in its path. The modd amongst the defenders of Arx is solemn, with no few of them remembering previous battles where horrors were confronted. For a moment, for anyone that is looking, a shimmer of color stretches over the city, like the refracted light that gathered on the surface of a soap bubble, before it is gone again. The Queen' barrier has gone up.

As the eemy approaches, Helena Thornweave herself can be seen, sat perched on the shoulder of one of her precious plantgantuans. Before they even emerge from the trees, she leaps to the ground and seems to be making a sprint off to the side of her army, as if she has another target in mind.

From one side of the gathered protectors, Tribune Petraea Livy strides out, sword drawn and clad in head to toe scarlet steel silk. She looks at the approaching army and then at the walls as she barks out, "The witch is headed toward the Castle of Yesterday! I'll create a fire line to try to hold them off while you all intercept her!" The Tribune doesn't wait for permission or acquiesence. She stands there, hands already warming up as she shouts, "Take out whatever gets past me before they reach the walls!" Then, the Tribune strides forward and a wall of fire appears at her back, concealing both her and all but the tallest of the monsters that approach.

The host of the Crownlands had pursued the Thornweave force since Old Oak, and elements of the army have made it to Arx in advance. At their head is the Princess of Bastion, Liara Grayson, resplendent in gleaming alaricite armour elaborately adorned with griffin sigils. She now stands at the top of a tower near the gatehouse closest to the approaching host, from where she can have a view and issue direction. As well as defenders along the walls, no small number are held in reserve behind - the lessons of the ability of the Horned God's creatures to bypass walls have been well learned.

Triton moves to Elora's side, planting himself solidly her and any dogs she brought, glaring outward with obvious warning at any enemies he can see. "Well, m'Lady, let's chew 'em up early and build us a bonfire..."

Mirk stands at the lead of the Halfshav contingent, geared for war. Steelsilk and fireweave, a bow slung over his shoulder and a greatsword belted at his side. He has his head bowed, as if in prayer, lips moving silently. For once, he does not seem wholly at peace with waiting. Behind him, the Halfshav host readies bows and awaits the order to fire when the enemy draws near.

Not. Again. Really? But then it was known to be coming, isnt it? Mabelle is worn and tired, but her armor is not when she sets out from the mansion into the street with a really big cake knife. She'll try. Or sew. Or create bee balls.

Rosalind has come with her family, her red hair covered with her cloak. That means it's bizness time! She's prepped and ready, side by side with her twin and sister and law.

Aconite stays back with the support people, medics and others who prepare to help anyone wounded. She's hardly recognizable in her armor with her mask up. The tall Whisper's shoulders are set back but her barely visible eyes are hard and grim. She takes a quick stock amongst the masses of familiar splashes of color. Watching as some run off to intercept Helena before shaking her head as if to clear it before looking back to the oncoming horde.

Somewhere amongst the defenders, tucked into a position from which he can see much of what is happening without actually being at the front, Pasquale Malespero stands, watches and waits for the enemies to come closers. Besides him his nurse-aide Alberico offers a flask of something and Pasquale's attention is briefly turned away from the approaching enemies and onto his assistant whilst he takes the flask, quaffs it down, and then gives instruction for the man to go off and do whatever it is he wants to do today. As Alberico leaves Pasquale once more looks towards the enemy and the line of fire stretching across the horizon. His gloved hands reaching for the comfort of his alaricite bow. Checking. Checking. Making sure everything is ready.

Lys checks willpower at normal. Lys is successful.

Ian arrives as part of the muster of defense. He has no army at his back, this time, nor does he take off immediately after the most dangerous fight that he can pick, out in the gray forest. Instead, he starts seeking out familiar faces, looking for Raymesin's head above the rest of the crowd.

Ryhalt is wearing his armor, but isn't smiling per his usual. All protections for his people have been made as best as can be, but he remained to help defend the city from falling.

One of the darkest shadows holds the overtall and slender form of Raymesin, the man's leather cuirass replaced with a black enamelled metal breast-and-backplate. There's a knife in one of his hands, a knife that's flipped and flipped and flipped into his other hand and flipped back and flipped and flipped and flipped and...

It has been quite a while since Enyo has turned up when things have gone bad, and when things seem to be truly dire she doesn't hesitate to suit up in her armor and turn up. She pulls her sword, testing the weight of it in her hand before she starts to head for the army, the fire, whatever it is that is in front of her to meet it head on. The glorious part of today, she doesn't have to worry about tracking anyone else in the fight but herself. For now.

Eirene is prepared for both commanding soldiers in the heat of battle or directing the medical forces spread throughout the city. She has both soldiers and medics on standby for whatever needs to be done with greater urgency. The Riven, born of the house of battle that is Malvici, is wearing her usual dark leathers with hat drawn low and steelsilk scarf around her neck for protection. She waits near the Graysons as she is a commander of their forces. "On your command," she says to Liara. The usual flippant air of the woman is replaced with a professional soldier's stiff bearing and razor-sharp focus.

Brandishing her weapon, princess Denica Thrax has a look of inherited steel in her icy blue eyes. There is little left of the bon-vivant artist in these situations, rather it is replaced with one thing. Perseverance. Teeth clenched, there is little hesitation as the woman is poised and ready to fight. The blade in her hand is clenched like it's always meant to be there, a different kind of art. What fear might be percolating within the pit of her stomach, dissipates the moment she faces it. The princess dressed in curling tentacles betraying her background as an Islander bounce with every movement, but for this moment she's still and she waits, like a coiled spring ready to strike.

Lucita stands fast with others of the group to help fight a delaying action. Her glance slides down the line of her friends and allies and acquaintances as her features do not waver from a somber, determined expression. Her hand grips a dagger that is held in a 'ready' position while she gazes at the wall of fire blazing ahead of the group.

Jaenelle asked her to stay with the healers. So that is where Lys is. At some point she'll have found where Eirene is and positioned herself within line of sight of the physician. A gleaming red dagger is the only combat gear she seems to have. The redheaded baroness has a lazy smile upon her face as she flips the bloody dagger back and forth.

Medeia watches as others head off after Helena, her own steps faltering at the sight of everything. The medic moves back, not to retreat but to be ready to attend to the wounded and help facilitate getting them out of the field of danger.

Is it fashionable to show up late for the defense of Arvum's capital? Maybe he isn't as late as he thinks, but Aindre Grayheart shows up nontheless, clad from head to toe in the alaricite that makes him hard to miss and draped in a red cloak that also makes him particularly stand out. It does not take him long, even with one eye, to find Ian and Raymesin meeting in the gathering defenses and he approaches them. "I've had runners out. Citizens are as sheltered as they can be, for now. That's as good as we can hope for, in the moment." Just after, and with a slow look around, he mentions, "If the worst comes to pass and it looks as if we may lose Arx, find me if we are not together. There are ways to get people out, to safety."

Elora The Ravenseyes have arrived en masse. Stormheart rushed their soldiers to help defend Arx, and they stand in neat formations ready to be set loose. At the back, staring at maps one, intensely focused last time is the newly appointed Ravenseye general. Five dogs sit on high alert at the sheltered desk, keeping a close eye on their Person. Elora looks up and jerks on her gloves. "Indeed. Be careful, my Lord," she murmurs quietly to Triton. "Remember your promise to me. Lady Rosalind? You still good?" There's some wariness in her voice for some reason.

Raven watches all the chaos approach and scowls. Above her is the pale figure of Moonsilver. Raven's gaze follows the tribune and there is a brief debate about chasing after Helena before with a grim malcontent she focuses on the foes approaching. She draws her sword and looks skywards towards Moonsilver's form. She looks to Rosalind and calls "Guard well, Lady Rosalind!"

Tesha has brought Telmar to face off against those that would try to take over the city. The woman has drug out all of her armor and it's one of the quickest things she's ever changed into really. Her hair is braided back and tucked into the neck of her brigadine just in case anyone got the idea to grab it. She's waiting for the plunge. The place where everyone starts to move and things. It was anxiety inducing. She makes sure that some of the more fresh-faced soldiers in the line are doing good and then goes back to looking grim.

Mabelle of course came with two dozen guards. Because if six follow her to the tavern, you would imagine how many chased her now.

There is such a conflicted look on Lou's face when it's announced Helena is moving towards another target. Her mouth firms into a grim expression and she takes a moment to make note of who is present before finally making her way over to Aindre's side. "Into the breech again, cousin?" she remarks, as she makes sure of the heft of her diamondplate sword.

House Charon's force is at the ready, arrayed behind Magaen. The pink of their house colors swallowed, less favored by some, than the gray. But it's there. For Arx today, it's there.

House Charon's force is at the ready, arrayed behind Magaen. The pink of their house colors swallowed, less favored by some, than the gray. But it's there. For Arx today, it's there.

Sydney's jaw sets. The fiery haired pugilist paces with pent-up energy. She's clad head-to-toe in steelsilk and leathers. She lifts her head attentively as Petraea's voice rings out, and hers calls out immediately back in response, "Aye!" Her hands immediately dip into her pockets, and she secures leather and fiercely sharp alaricite, squinting sharply. Within spitting distance of Ian, Raymesin, and Aindre, she flashes a fierce grin. "Always wish I learned to fire a bow when I see this shit coming." Then she trains her eyes forward. Steeling herself.

The brief twitch of a smile that Ian gives Aindre is unpleasant more than it's comforting or friendly. Unpleasant, and determined. "This line is going to hold, Aindre. It's not like we're in this to live forever."

Rosalind grins at Elora. "So far so good, yep!" There was a wave to Raven as she hears her from somewhere. "You too! Remember, we have stuff to do after!" The Ravenseye lady looks over at their troops, and look of warmth for them too. "Embrace the Storm,"her voice level. Then she leaves the commanding to Elora.

Raymesin grins a toothy grin at Ian. "Speak fer yerself," he says. "I'm immoral." Aindre and Sydney get nodded to, and the knifeman stops flipping just one blade and pulls another, flipping both.

Triton grins at Rosalind and then eyes the array of troops with a satisfied scan.

At a point, someone comes out of the crowd and murmurs something to Aindre, who listens intently. He nods, looking a touch grim for the news, and turn to pass whatever it is along to Ian.

Pasquale finally decides to abandon his vantage point and go over to join the familiar faces of Ian and Raymesin. He nods to the pair of them as he moves to the edge of their group and then nods to both Aindre and Sydney too. "I have a feeling this might be the best place for me."

Sydney's composure briefly falters to allow a short, barked laugh. "...Eh, well. Can all do worse than 'immorality'."

Ian nods at whatever Aindre says to him, his eyes hard. He turns towards Ray and briefly clasps his hand. "Keep the from getting to her if you can, Ray. Whatever happens, I'm glad I knew you." And then he's following Aindre.

Triton murmers aside to Elora, "Let me know if you need me to reinforce any breeches in the other lines? I may miss anything outside our front if I get tangled in with the enemy."

Doing a sweep of the area around her with an alert gaze, Denica sees a few familiar faces and makes her way over to Ian, Raymesin and Pasquale, giving them a quick nod and the others around them. Watching as Ian walks off With Aindre, brows loft upwards with concern, but she remains silent, holding onto her weapon.

Raymesin nods to Aindre too, then takes Ian's hand and shakes it. "Same," he says. "An' good luck."

Raven scowls and cusses as she realizes what is happening and also turns to leave.

Eirene looks as if she wants to go join some of the crowd especially when she sees Aindre and Ian making ready to leave. But she holds her ground to keep where she needs to be, blue eyes on the distant battlefield.

Pasquale watches Ian and Aindre leave for a moment, gives a brief half smile to Denica, and then turns his focus back onto the approaching swarms.

Aconite continues to keep tabs on a few people while standing amidst the other healers, watching even more head off. Her weight shifts nervously but a few deep breaths settle the Whisper into something more steady.

Medeia moves closer to Aconite when she spots her, holding her gloved hand out to the Radiant to take and offer a squeeze. She doesn't say anything, though.

There is an eerie moment of silence just before the screams begin. The screams of injured animals along with the choking scent of burning flesh and something like rotten plants filling the air. The Tribune cannot be seen, but it is assumed that she is inside the fire, proving a distraction. Despite her best efforts, the first wave of creatures, injured but still ambulatory, lurch toward the gathered defenders. Rather than an endless wave, the numbers seem thinned, but not altogether eliminated.

Raymesin checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raymesin is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lys fails.

Denica checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Denica fails.

Mirk checks dexterity and archery at hard. Mirk is successful.

Enyo checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Enyo is successful.

Mabelle checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Mabelle fails.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Lou marginally fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Sydney is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton fails.

Eirene checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Eirene is successful.

Ryhalt checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Ryhalt marginally fails.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Tesha marginally fails.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Eirene before departing.

Medeia checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Medeia marginally fails.

Liara checks command and leadership at hard. Critical Success! Liara is spectacularly successful.

Pasquale checks command and leadership at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Elora checks command and leadership at hard. Elora is successful.

Magaen checks command and leadership at hard. Magaen marginally fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lucita is successful.

Mabelle checks command and leadership at hard. Mabelle is successful.

Ryhalt checks command and leadership at hard. Ryhalt is successful.

Mirk checks command and leadership at hard. Mirk fails.

Eirene checks command and leadership at hard. Botch! Eirene fails completely.

Medeia checks command and leadership at hard. Medeia is successful.

The sounds of animals in agony causes Elora's head to jerk desperately in that direction before she stills herself.

"It's time." Mercier, Iron Guard, Whitehawk, Widow, Animal Whisperer, Ravenseye. The little blonde has worn a lot of hats before, but this might just be her biggest role yet. She inhales slowly and then walks towards her troops cutting between the rows until she's at the front. "Stormcrows!" Her voice carries far with unwavering calm. "The Storm is called to protect the Compact, its Winds summoned and swirling around us with the memories of Gales past. -You- are the Winds of the Storm. You are the vicious forks of lightning from an impenetrable black Cloud. Rise up!" She turns to look at the plantgantuans and the armies that walk beside them. "Rise up, and let the Storm rage!"

The Ravenseye troops let out a resounding war cry and rage forward.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at hard. Rosalind is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lou is successful.

Denica checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Denica is successful.

Liara checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Liara marginally fails.

Raymesin checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Raymesin is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Eirene fails.

Pasquale checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Triton is successful.

Mabelle checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Mabelle fails.

Tesha checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Tesha is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Medeia fails.

Mirk checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Mirk fails.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Ryhalt is successful.

Enyo checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Enyo fails.

Aconite checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Aconite fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lucita fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Sydney is successful.

Elora checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Elora is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Rosalind fails.

Lys checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lys fails.

Magaen checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Magaen fails.

As the first wave of attackers meet the defensive force, the entire line is rocked by the impact. Though the enemy does not appear to be armed, the Compact has faced these scythe-armed attackers before. Those bladed arms flail wildly, catching many of the defenders off guard, but the lack of discipline in their attacks opens them up for damage and so most go down quiet easily. Princess Liara's troops, well skilled in hunting and attacking creatures like this by now, stand firm and cut through the wave like a hot knife through butter. Those troops under Lord Mirk do not fare as well and for Lady Eirene Riven, she loses nearly half of her forces in the first wave of attack.

Lys swings and stabs with her bloody-hued dagger, but the creatures are too much for her. Instead of cutting them up the scythed armed creatures slash into her. Still she grits her teeth and forces her way through the battle field, aiming toward Eirene where she'll be putting herself between any bugs and the healer-general.

Lou watches as Aindre makes the decision to leave the battle within the city. Her lips purse, but she just tightens the grip on her falchion. She doesn't look happy, however she doesn't have much time to mull their choices over as the first wave of attackers comes through the line. She's ready, hefting her sword after the first flailing limbs. She misses each attach she attempts to make, however she successfully dances out of the way of any attacks headed for her, showing that she's practiced some more in the art of dodge.

As the fighting unfolds, there's a swarm of chaos everywhere. Or bugs. Lots of bugs. The bugs are especially hard for Denica to hone in on, arms moving about she manages to hit nothing but merely make movement and a bit of noise. Maybe she's flapping her arms, who knows. More importantly, when they start in for her, she manages to use this strange and unfruitful dance move to shimmy out of their way.

Rosalind blinks. And blinks some more, but before too long, she's running off somewhere to nock her bow. Just as swiftly, she's shooting arrows left and right, splatting bugs. "This is sorta gross,"she calls out to no one in particular.

Mabelle may not be as talented as Liara is at riling her troops but they do listen to her and charge forth. The one in charge of her own safety looks away for one second and its enough for one of those wrigly things to get to her. A small cut on her arm, but she is bleeding and annoyed as she calls louder to her guards who are able to push forth and do some damage.

Bugs. Tesha didn't take to the kind of bugs that they were dealing with here. She lunges forward at the first wave, her swing off from the over eagerness in things. No one needed to rush towards death. The red head misses her target, but manages to block one of the pincers coming her way as she regroups herself.

This is what happens when Eirene has her focus divided and her eyes on those headed for the Castle and Helena. She's not paying as much attention and the Grayson and Riven forces suffer for her failure. As does she, as a sycthe blade grazes her arm. She lets out a single cry of anger and pain and starts barking orders. "Back away, back away, ARCHERS take that fucking lawn-mower out." She will deal with her failure later, the screams of the dying that will haunt her later pushed out of her mind for now.

Mirk is at the front when the battle is joined, and he's battered in the initial fray. It makes him focus more on survival, on fending off the immediate enemies, than on smoothly directing his forces, and it shows. But as soon as he realizes that, as soon as Halfshav forces start to fall, he's back in his element, shouting to his soldiers to rally them, raising his sword to have them form up on him and, above all else, stand firm.

Medeia gets pushed from the healers as the initial impact of the enemy line falls upon the defenders. She stumbles and calls out for the healers, "Spread out! Stay alert!" The chaos filters back through the gathered armies, and she is jostled to the ground, landing hard on one knee. She winces and scrambles to her feet - being down is no place to be in such a situation. The lady winces as ahe moves quickly to keep an eye out for anyone needing more help.

Triton moves quickly when the stray uglies begin slipping through the lines, although his charge at one headed towards the Ravenseye command misses it as neatly as the critter misses him. Thank the gods for Rosalind as the twins end up covering for each other so Elora can continue her Important General Duties!

As the creatures make it past the fire, Enyo springs into action and moves towards the nearest one of the scythe-armed monsters. She gives a very slightly jaunty salute with her sword before she launches the attack, the sword moving to slice and cut. While she's able to get it down, she doesn't make it out without getting a bit of a slice across her arm in return for her efforts. The usually bright and laughing Malvici is unusually silent and focused on the thing immediately in front of her, and moving to the next when the first is down.

Ryhalt wields Vindication.

Lucita stays in the spot that she seems to have been lined up. Her color goes a shade paler on seeing the various attackers but she does not cringe back from them. She waits, waits, waits till she sees a good opening and then slashes with her dagger. As the creature falls, one of its sharp limbs grazes against her, a slash in both her armor and skin resulting. It is not a serious wound, nor in a location to affect her ability to fight at the moment so it is ignored even as blood trickles slowly down her side.

Pasquale knows that his talents lie in command rather than combat and so when the lines of injured creatures start pushing through the fire towards the garrison forces he takes several moments to eye the soldiers he's responsible for and splits away from the fighters he sought out to instead reassure some of the soldiers and keep their lines tight and effective. Finishing the walk he goes around to the rear flank of the unit and starts pushing arrows into the dirt close to his boot. Preparing for the moment he will need them. Watching to make sure that everything that impacts with that defensive line dies. Constantly checking that nothing has slipped through the line planning to murder his men - or him. Glad he took the time to run those 'silly' wargames and introduce his soldiers to situations outside the norm. Not that anyone could ever truly be prepared for this. "Shields." He says at one point when the impact of one of those bladed arms sweeps a man back and off his feet but the word is somewhat unnecessary. The soldiers around him having already closed up the breech above the downed man.

Farsahw was known more for its merchantile navy, but all houses had armies and Ryhalt had some of his best with him today. For his section of the wall, he leads them in keeping as many bugs out of the city as possible. His ransuer, Vindication, spins around him, slashes, and jabs. From time to time he calls encouragement to his troops to keep them from falling prey to the terror of fighting the monsters they're facing.

Aconite attempts to follow Medeia's orders. Her dull black and gold armor giving her little protection against the first onslaught of bugs. She attempts to move out of the ay or swat them aside and neither works, the gets battered by the incoming forces. Still the Whisper is intent on helping those who are in need.

Raymesin is just an individual fighter in this fight, but sometimes an individual fighter can make a difference. And in this case he does, using his sheer reach to his advantage, and to the advantage of some of those around him. When things start getting through the lines he's there, striking from the shadows at them, taking limbs and blades from the bugs with quiet ferocity.

The sounds of animals in agony causes Elora's head to jerk desperately in that direction before she stills herself.

"It's time." Mercier, Iron Guard, Whitehawk, Widow, Animal Whisperer, Ravenseye. The little blonde has worn a lot of hats before, but this might just be her biggest role yet. She inhales slowly and then walks towards her troops cutting between the rows until she's at the front. "Stormcrows!" Her voice carries far with unwavering calm. "The Storm is called to protect the Compact, its Winds summoned and swirling around us with the memories of Gales past. -You- are the Winds of the Storm. You are the vicious forks of lightning from an impenetrable black Cloud. Rise up!" She turns to look at the plantgantuans and the armies that walk beside them. "Rise up, and let the Storm rage!"

The Ravenseye troops let out a resounding war cry and rage forward. They seem used to fighting animals of some nature or another and they use those hunting skills to good use. Bugs are met hand to hand, sword to scythe, with chittin and blood making a mess of the ground. Elora is sticking to the back, though she keeps an arrow notched on her bow in case she has to shoot for her life. The dogs around her snarl, but a simple "That'll do," keeps them behind her, though Onida remains at the front of the pack. "PIKEMEN ADVANCE!" Elora bellows over the din of war. Those with spears, tridents, poleaxes, anything that provides reach advance behind the swordsmen and others. <fixed>

Sydney has seen these things in action before - knowing what to expect is really only half the battle, but it certainly seems to help her in the first clash. She weaves just underneath a scythed arm that brutalizes one of the defenders right next to her. This time, she doesn't flinch away. She surges forward, buffeting its head with a heavy swing of her fist, sharply reaches up to seize it by the mandible, and ends with a follow-up strike that drives her alaricite-covered fists through the insect's head. Hemolymph. Hemolymph everywhere. Her teeth show in a frantic, feral grin, and she moves on to the next. No time for quips, just now. Too much chaos.

There's not even as much as a ripple in the line of House Grayson's soldiers as they observe the approach of the enemy - nobody steps back or wavers, not even in the face of these horrors. After all, Liara is with them, and her warriors will follow her to whatever end. The orders she gives are clear and precise, and flights of arrows are sent towards the approaching foe, up until they connect with the line, where the densely-formed and well-drilled soldiers make short work of the scythe-armed creatures. "The Compact endures!" the Princess of Bastion calls, which is repeated by those she leads in a roar. One creature makes it past the rows of pikes and a flailing scythe dings against her gleaming armour; the monstrosity is swiftly dispatched by nearby soldiers.

Magaen confers with her lieutenants, drawn closer to her at the sight of troops diverting to head off the supposed 'witch.' "We will hold here," she insists, her voice thrumming with irritation. "Protect the city from invasion by whatever's beyond that." She gestures to the wall of fire with her sickle, turning her attention to it as that odd silence descends. At the surge of the screams, Charon's force rallies their focus to the oncomers. Their inexperience with foes of this nature (ha) erodes at that focus, and many direct their attack at one pair of flailing arms, only to find themselves open to attack from others. Magaen is among these, one of her swings making way for a low slash to her leg.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Sydney is successful.

Liara checks command and leadership at hard. Liara is successful.

Raymesin checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raymesin is successful.

Pasquale checks command and leadership at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Eirene checks command and leadership at hard. Eirene is successful.

Mabelle checks command and leadership at hard. Mabelle is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lys is successful.

Elora checks command and leadership at hard. Elora is successful.

Enyo checks strength and medium wpn at hard. Enyo marginally fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Botch! Lucita fails completely.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Tesha fails.

Ryhalt checks command and leadership at hard. Ryhalt is successful.

Denica checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Denica marginally fails.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton is successful.

Magaen checks command and leadership at hard. Magaen fails.

Mirk checks command and leadership at hard. Mirk is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at hard. Rosalind is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Lou fails.

Medeia checks command and leadership at hard. Medeia is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lou is successful.

Mabelle checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Mabelle is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Sydney is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Eirene marginally fails.

Raymesin checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Raymesin is successful.

Aconite checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Aconite is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Rosalind is successful.

Pasquale checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Magaen checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Magaen is successful.

Elora checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Critical Success! Elora is spectacularly successful.

Enyo checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Enyo marginally fails.

Triton checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Critical Success! Triton is spectacularly successful.

Liara checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Liara is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Botch! Medeia fails completely.

Denica checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Denica is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lys is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Medeia is successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Tesha is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lucita is successful.

Nadir checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Botch! Nadir fails completely.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Ryhalt is successful.

Mirk checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Mirk fails.

Mirk checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Mirk is successful.

Nadir checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Nadir is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Nadir does not take a permanent wound.

Nadir checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Nadir is successful.

Nadir remains capable of fighting.

The fire that provides a wall between the bulk of Helena's army and the defenders grows hotter. Hot enough to be uncomfortable. Hot enough that whatever emerges from behind that wall of flames is weak at best. They stagger forward, but some collapse before even reaching anything to strike. Those that can bridge the distance go down easily, but don't put up much of a fight in return. Only poor Nadir catches the worst of it as a plantgantuan bellows from behind the firewall. When it emerges, it is half on fire and enraged, lowering a massive, vine-covered fist to smash against Nadir before turning toward the others in a fury.

Raymesin's knives strike from the shadows, removing more of the threats to his city. Not that there's a great deal of threats to the city making it through the wall of fire. And then there's a plantgantuan, and the tall and slender figure emerges from the shadows, heading towards the beast when a great deal more are heading away.

One dow...ow. Like ow, ow. Enyo's next flurry of attacks nets her nothing amazing for her effort but bruised and battered ribs, and a bloody nose. The damage done doesn't appear to be that bad, but a smack to the face is enough to rattle her brain around inside her skull and cause a different sort of issue. She steps in close to mutter something low under her breath before dispatching the plant-monster in time to hear the bellow from the plantgantuan, her head snapping up and her brows lifting before she starts to run in that direction.

With her attention fully focused on the fight, Eirene Riven is better able to direct her troops to focus on the creatures and their scythe-like arms. The archers and pikemen move forward and start peppering and stabbing the mantis-monstrosities as the footsoldiers move back. Seeing the plantgantuans coming forward, Eirene points her blade at it. "Don't let those jolly green bastards breech the walls, let's go fuck 'em over faster than someone's first time at an orgy." She nods to Lys. "Let's go whack some weeds..."

Aconite moves with purpose, somehow navigating the chaos to reach the nearest injured person. Her movements are agile, a graceful dance of evasion and urgency. She doesn't event attempt any attacks. As she tends to the wounded, her focus sharpens, leaving the more critical cases to the seasoned healers. Her priority is clear: providing immediate care to those in need, ensuring no one is left unattended as best she can.

Leather-covered fingers hold tightly to the blade she brandishes as Denica fails to really hit anything. Perhaps she's just too worked-up, still she moves out of the way with relative ease, keeping herself from taking any damage as she is swarmed by the bugs. Deciding to change up her strategy and go for something much bigger, the small, compact princess is ready to take on the giant plantgantuan. Eyes narrow, teeth grit and she focuses her attention in that direction, running towards the danger. "Looks like someone needs their hedges trimmed," she mutters under her breath, unable to pass up a snarky comment opportunity.

Lou steps past another of the attackers, continuing to dance in between them and tries her very best to land her own attacks against them. Miss after miss causes her to frown deeply. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" she screams at the enemy, "WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY." There might just be a bit of frustration within her voice as she tries her very best to help reduce the numbers. She spies others going after the plantgantuan as it goes after Nadir, so continues to concentrate on the enemies she's fighting in front of her.

Though she has a slight limp, Medeia is moving quickly and helping to pull anyone too injured to continue fighting back and away from the field. She continues to shout orders to the other medics around her, ensuring that those who need the most help are being carried toward the city. As more battle chaos surrounds her, she ducks and weaves through the threats. For now.

Mirk rallies the Halfshav forces, surrounding him and slaughtering some of the bug-creatures, holding ranks tightly to prevent worse losses than they'd already sustained. "Ready fire arrows," he calls to the Halfshav forces, eyeing the plant-gargantuan-creature. "We'll have a need of them. As many as you have, as many as you can prepare. And brace yourselves. It's going to be angry, I'm sure."

Ryhalt keeps his troops away from the plantgantuan. Despite the winter's chill he wipes sweat from his brow from the stress of the fight and the fire doing the bulk of protecting them. After a breather, he leads his people on through continuing to dispatch the smaller insects that go through the fire wall.

As the bugs that get through the flames weaken and sometimes die before even reaching the line of his troops, Pasquale lifts his bow, draws, and sends an arrow into the body of the largest beast threatening his lines. It roars, but doesn't go down, and Pasquale calmly reaches for a new arrow as he calls out "Rotate the front line whilst we have a moment." before sending another arrow to puncture the beast right besides the first. The beast collapses and Pasquale quickly scans the area before frowning at the plantgantuan. "Control that giant plant" he demand-requests of them. "Just like we trained." For the first time he steps out ahead of the lines, moving so that he can bring his bow into range of the plantgantuan without getting too far ahead of his men.

Lys keeps herself, as best she can, between Eirene and then oncoming attackers. This time her red blade manages to slice away a scythe limb before it manages to slice her. Laughter peels from her and she gives a little twirl as she changes course across the battle field, headed toward the plantgantuan to assist in stabbing it to little pieces.

Triton spins from his last miss to find yet another veggie freak barreling toward Elora and her canine bodyguards. Working still in tandem with Rosalind, he bodyslams the ugly and adds in a powerful sweep of his clawed caestus to finalize the message in a spray of ichor. Or something. Somehow he spins back out away from the falling monster without getting any new holes in his own body and closes ranks again with the Ravenseye command detail. This is when he sees the plantgantuan and looks toward Elora with the question in his eyes. "Elora! That things is breaking through!"

The Charon troops are being scattered by pursuit of the fight, by the newness of this enemy, by the press of the heat. Scattered herself, Magaen finds herself yelling at someone outside of her command. "Empty hands aren't going to save you today! Get back to the city! Tell them to prepare the perimeter in case we don't hold. Now!" This is said to Nadir. Whether he is well enough to run from the battle seems beneath her notice as she turns from him to swing at the enemy.

Rosalind eyes the plantgantuan. She blinks. And then she's already sorta darting toward it, bow in hand. For now. I guess we all know what she's DOING so to speak. "Wait until I tell Ian about THIS,"she calls over, pausing to load her bow and starts shooting the ick.

Tesha just can't seem to hit the bugs tonight! But she can sure move out of the way quick enough. The womans false eye catches the light of the fires, glinting for a moment. She didn't want to let these things advance any further than they already had. "To that!" she calls to the Telmarch troop as she points out the Plantgantuan.

Elora looks between the roaring Plantgantuan and the armies trying to force their way beyond the fireline. There's a moment of calm that passes over her features, words murmured quietly. After that, the woman makes her choice. "ROSALIND!" she barks. "Take both Garrish's and Faeldmar's units and you lot help take out the construct's legs. Lord Triton, please stay with me, and FORWARD! Push them back and force them through the fire a second time! For Stormheart! For the Compact" Her voice continues to call to the Ravenseye soldiers, the bulk of them maintaining the line so that the plantgantuan doesn't prove to be a feint.

The ranks of Grayson soldiers remain steady as the assault continues, and then there is an ebb in the fighting, apart from one particular monstrosity, and having taken stock of the other fighters moving towards it, Liara calls an order to her soldiers: "Reform the line and stand fast. We shall await whatever passes the flame next." That, then, is just what the soldiers do - any gaps in the line are filled and the archers arrayed behind them prepare themselves once more, the green-clad ranks facing towards the wall of fire, for however long it might last.

Swiftly, Eirene pulls a small bottle out of her beltpurse. She hands it to Lys. "Put some on your fuckin' blade and pray," she says grimly. "I don't know if it will work or NOT but sink it in deep and see if it works." She does the same to her own blade, quickly coating Dawnstrike with a poison.

Sydney thrashes her way through the heavily weakened mantids, her motions fluid and precise. She's dialed in, hyper-focused as she dances from one opponent to the next, peppering those she can't give her full focus to. The surge of flame has her blinking sharply and squinting against the heat. She grinds through the smiling grimace of her teeth, "Burn them all." She whips her attention back towards the gargantuan, assessing those who are approaching it, and rushing in its direction, full bore.

Lucita faces one of those singed insect warriors and wounded or not, it is fast. She finds herself pulling back her dagger, and the arm in danger of being lopped off as she ducks and weaves to evade the attack on her. She scowls as she looks for a opening to try to finish the creature off.

Lys flicks her eyes to the bottle, taking it with her off head and then glances down at the blood-hungry blade. Her teeth worry over her bottom lip for a second. Her blade isn't exactly *normal* after all, but with a shrug she does as instructed and douses the blade in the poison.

Knocked onto his back, Nadir reels from the impact of the blow and struggles to pick himself off the ground. He rubs his eyes in a disoriented way, swaying back and forth. Tilting his head as Magaen shouts at him, Nadir blinks slowly. And blinks again. The Seraceni stares up at the plantgantuan and slowly backpedals as survival instinct begins to take over.

Magaen checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Magaen is marginally successful.

Elora checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Elora is successful.

Pasquale checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Aconite checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Aconite is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Eirene is successful.

Raymesin checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Raymesin is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Rosalind fails.

Triton checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Triton is successful.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Nadir checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Nadir marginally fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Sydney is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lou is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lucita is successful.

Enyo checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Enyo is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Medeia is successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Tesha fails.

Liara checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Liara is successful.

Denica checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Denica is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lys is successful.

Elora checks command and leadership at normal. Elora is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Botch! Lys fails completely.

Triton checks strength and brawl at normal. Triton marginally fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Sydney is successful.

Liara checks command and leadership at normal. Liara is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at normal. Rosalind is successful.

Denica checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Denica is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Eirene is successful.

Raymesin checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Raymesin is successful.

Pasquale checks command and leadership at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Ryhalt checks command and leadership at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Lucita is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Lou is successful.

Magaen checks command and leadership at normal. Magaen is successful.

Medeia checks command and leadership at normal. Medeia is successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Tesha fails.

Enyo checks strength and medium wpn at normal. Enyo is successful.

The plantgantuan lumbers toward the others, obviously in pain but infuriated with it. As injured as it is, it cannot withstand the attacks and each blow severs mismatched limbs and vine-wrapped body parts. As it crumples, it groans out one last time before going still. The scent of the fire is only just managing to cover up the reek of what smells like rotten fruit that starts to permeate the battlefield. Those that did not take part in humbling the plantgantuan help thin out the weakened scythe-creatures that stagger through the fire behind it. Which is a good thing because the next thing to breach the Tribune's firewall are, you guessed it, MORE PLANTGANTUANS. A trio, in fact, burning, in pain, and furious with it.

While Lys is managing to keep herself from getting sliced and dice, she isn't doing so well in doing any damage right now. Her knife whistles through the air and she just barely manages not to stab herself with it.

For the first time during the battle, Lou finally manages to land some blows against her attackers. Several of the scythe creatures are killed in her wake and she manages to dance successfully through them onwards to the next. She briefly glances over to where Nadir went down, to keep an eye on the situation, and is satisfied to see others handling that situation well. Then she sees the other plantgantuans coming and pales a bit. "Aww shit. More of the bloody bastards are coming," she states the unfortunate obvious.

Ryhalt finishes up another sweep of killing the current wave of insects. Catching his breath with the others, he watches for what'll come through next. As three of the plantgarntuans come through, he says encouraging words, his conviction that the'll win the day unwavering.

Rosalind nods to Elora. "k!" She shouts over, calling, "keep up!" Then she's shooting the giant plants, though growing a bit anxious.

Lucita spares the giant Plantgantuan a quick glance as it is further along the defense line than her position. Instead she focuses on killing the insect creature that she has been dodging. She holds her blade ready till the slashing appendages are in a position in which she can attack a vulnerable place. After some quick stabs and slashes she watches as its legs collapse and it topples over. As more plantgantuans arrive, she spends a brief moment assessing the best spot she can help attack and fend them off.

Triton charges a plant scythe thing that is barreling in the general direction of the Ravenseye command post. He is there in a heartbeat, roraing with mounting rage, dodging everything that comes at him...but the sound of the plantgantuan's groan draws a glance from him in the direction of his crazy twin. That costs him the killing blow on his target, although he does rip off a piece with his teeth and a bestial roar before it slips around him. That, of course, is the cue for the dog pack surrounding his wife and they get to bring down the ugly as Triton turns back toward the next challenger, eyes now burning with the wild fury of battle.

Tesha is distracted by the Plantgantuan, more like she's nervous that the thing will break through and do horrible things to the city. More than they might have already done. She swings, missing, but she also doesn't move quite quick enough for the vines of the thing and she's lashed on the arm with one of the vines for her troubles. She grits her teeth and steadies herself for the next run.

Raymesin's knives cut into the lone plantgantuan, severing some of the vines that keep it mobile. And yet as the one goes down, three more step into its place, and the Queen's Blade hefts his weapons and prepares to take on those as well. As a general he makes a good hatstand, but as a knifeman there are few who can match him.

Perhaps all that Denica needed was a larger target. This seems to work better. With her blade held tightly in her delicate fingers, the short dark-haired woman lunges towards the giant plant monster stabbing at it with those others that surround it with their fight. There's a fierce expression on her face and nothing else exists in this moment. Fighting has always been a matter of rebellion for the daughter of Maelstrom, and with so much she cares for on the line, she lets the world fade and she just fights. As Lou points out the obvious, Denica snorts in the direction of the three monsters in their approach. "It's like weeding, you pull out one, and three more grow in their place. We'll kill them all." Denica knows nothing about gardening, like nothing, but she really doesn't care right now.

Bringing Dawnstrike in true, Eirene slashes away at the towering creature and watches to see if the disgusting creature's vines wither and die more effectively. They do not. She looks dismayed but unsurprised. "We got another walking salad bar coming this way," she shouts. "TOSS THAT SALAD," she orders, grinning wildly as her blade points in their direction. She motions her troops forward. "Start with the arrows, pepper them full of iron!"

Aconite follows the Healers direction, synchronizing with the other healers to efficiently administer rough bandages as she goes. Her movements are swift and purposeful,extracting individuals from the midst of chaos and moving them towards those equipped for transport. She channels her focus, using her meager knowledge to both tend to wounds and quell her fear. The armored figure of the Whisper moves with urgency, determined to lend her aid where it's needed.

As more and more injured soldiers are pulled from the field, Medeia finds it easier to move through the crowd and help where she is needed. She pauses briefly to look toward the crumbling plantgantuan, and her eyes widen as three more lumber through the fire behind it. To the medics, she shouts, "Clear the field of injured! Quickly!"

"Ravenseye!" Elora jumps up on a chest, clambering her way up so as to be more visible to her soldiers. "Ravenseye, the great city of Arx is still in danger, and these Crownlanders deserve to see the mettle of the North!" Nevermind that she's saying all of this in the most Crownland of Crownlander accents ever. "Show them as you have shown me. Teach them as you have taught me! Steel yourselves and harden your hearts for the Storm still wails! TAKE UP FORMATION AND MARCH! Archers launch your first volley!"

When she reaches the plantgantuan, Enyo takes a quick moment to check to see who else has decided to pitch in, where they are, and find herself a spot to begin helping at hacking away at the thing. She seems singularly focused on it, then on the next trio that are breaching the wall, and that just makes her whistle a bit before changing her stance and the grip on her blade.

Pasquale doesn't move to far from his original spot, shifting the line just enough that they can start to fling harpoons into the limbs and body of the plantgargantuan. Once a number have punched into the gargantuan's body Pasquale gives an order and the soldiers begin to fall back.. each step pulling the ropes tighter and tighter. They all rip free before the gargantuan can truly be hindered by the effort but Pasquale seems undaunted by that, perhaps because damage was done anyway. Pasquale has just added an arrow to his bow when he notices the three new plantgantuans stumbling through the fire. A frown flickers across his face and he once again orders that the front line rotate before shifting his force to best meet one of the newly arrived threats.

Magaen wasn't yelling at one of hers, but her people know that yell. Well. And they rally to it, pressing, as a whole, toward the plantgantuans.

Liara's chin tips up slightly as she surveys the new development - three more of the hulking monsters. Those scythe-armed creatures that reach the Grayson line are swiftly dispatched, and the high lady's attention is turned to what is yet to come. She calls an order, "Rotate pikes to the front," and those soldiers bearing shields and shorter weapons fall back, to be replaced by others carrying long, unwieldy pikes. And once more, they brace themselves for contact, the line remaining steady. Some designated soldiers move amid the ranks to bring any wounded back, towards Aconite or others aiding them.

Sydney is part of the swarm that attack the Plantgantuan, spying a weakness opened up by a certain knife-wielding shadow and capitalizing on it by firmly bludgeoning it in the direction it begins to lean after its mobility is hampered. Whether it's effective or but a drop of water in the ocean is difficult to say with so many contributing, but when it goes down, she briefly bounces on her heels before fiercely turning her attention to the wall of flames and then... pausing for a moment at the sight of three more. Her brow furrows, and she selects the one closest to her to begin angling toward. "More of the same!" She shouts, "Don't get caught up between them!"

Rosalind mumbles about not stepping in between, but redirects herself to the side. She takes aim and shoots for the plantganguan's legs. Taking great care this time around.


**********************************************************************
As the battle rages outside of the city walls, those within them, paralyzed by fear, see the rising swarm of huge insects rise and try to push past the defenders and over the city walls. There are screams of terror and yet... well before being able to land, the insects push up against some sort of invisible barrier and disintegrate in a brilliant flash of light that illuminates the night sky for a moment.
**********************************************************************


Liara checks command and leadership at normal. Liara is successful.

Eirene checks command and leadership at normal. Eirene is successful.

Denica checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Denica is successful.

Elora checks command and leadership at normal. Elora is successful.

Pasquale checks command and leadership at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Lys fails.

Ryhalt checks command and leadership at normal. Ryhalt fails.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Tesha is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Lucita is successful.

Magaen checks command and leadership at normal. Magaen is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Sydney is successful.

Pasquale is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Medeia checks command and leadership at normal. Medeia is successful.

Triton checks strength and brawl at normal. Triton marginally fails.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at normal. Rosalind is successful.

Raymesin checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Raymesin is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Lou is successful.

Raymesin checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Raymesin is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Eirene is successful.

Liara checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Liara is successful.

Aconite checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Aconite is successful.

Lys checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lys is successful.

Denica checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Denica is successful.

Elora checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Elora fails.

Tesha checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Tesha is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Sydney is successful.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lou is successful.

Magaen checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Magaen is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Lucita marginally fails.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Rosalind is successful.

Enyo checks strength and medium wpn at normal. Botch! Enyo fails badly.

Enyo checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Enyo is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Triton is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Medeia is successful.

The plantgantuans crumple, no match in their weakened state for the combined might of the defenders of the city of Arx. There are injuries and some deaths, but compared to the losses at Bastion and Artshall, even those the last time that the city was under siege, these are minimal. In one last huge blaze of fire, hot enough to singe the hair of anyone within several feet of the wall of flames, a huge dome of fire expands like a bubble, growing and growing until the screams of the insects and creatures dying within it reach a crescendo, but there is one voice that is louder, one voice that screams into the darkness from the middle of that writhing mass of fire and dying monsters out one single word. A name.

"ZHAYLA!"

The heat intensifies, the fire reaches up as it if would touch the stars and then... it dies. It dies and leaves a field of ash and smoke in its wake, a field of ash as far as one can see headed north. There doesn't seem to be anything left of the Thornweave witch's army save for one thing. A figure in red steelsilk lying in the middle of that field of ashes, not moving.


**********************************************************************
In one last huge blaze of fire, hot enough to singe the hair of anyone within several feet of the wall of flames, a huge dome of fire expands like a bubbl, growing and growing until the screams of the insects and creatures dying within it reach a crescendo, but there is one voice that is louder, one voice that screams into the darkness from the middle of that writhing mass of fire and dying monsters out one single word. A name.

"ZHAYLA!"

The heat intensifies, the fire reaches up as it if would touch the stars and then... it dies.
**********************************************************************


One moment Pasquale is gesturing at his men and giving instructions just like he's been doing throughout the battle so far. The sky flares and a moment later Pasquale is on his knees. Theres just enough time for one of the soldiers near him to turn around with a shout of surprise and for Pasquale's stunned expression to register the first hints of realisation - and then Pasquale loses the fight to retain a grasp on consciousness and goes face down into the dirt. Unconscious.

Triton looks around the battlefield, quickly marking thise close to him in a rapid and practice scan, then he raises a fist toward the House formations and roars in a voice still marked by the growl of his battle fRenzy, "RAVENSEYE!!"

Maybe climbing onto a chest wasn't the best idea in the world. Now that Elora is much more visible, she's also much more attackable. When she gets smacked, she lands hard on the ground with a deep whuffing grunt asg the wind is knocked out of her. Now the dogs are pissed, darting to her and growling menacingly at anything or anyone who gets close. "That'll do," she gasps, pushing herself upright. "Good lads. That'll do." She shakes her head, trying to clear it. The dogs fall back in line but begrudgingly. Elora takes a moment to yank a bandage from the healer's kit slung from her belt and she quickly field dresses her wound. It's not the best bandaging being self applied, but the Physician does know her stuff well enough to keep herself from growing lightheaded from blood loss.

But then it's over, and she's dragging in deep breaths as her eyes travel the battlefield. Slowly, the soldiers begin to process the carnage, dead carried back and the wounded directed towards Physicians and Mercies. For Elora, however, she simply watches in drained silence.

Eirene shields her eyes from the bright blinding flame, her hand flying up in protective cover. The blast wave nearly knocks her hat off as she staggers back. Once the firelight dies down and the crimson figure is found in the middle, her battlemedic training kicks in and she rushes for them. "Someone see to Pasquale," she orders as she watches him collapse nearby. "Get on it!"

Medeia recoils from the intensity of the flame, an arm coming up to shield her face. Once it has disappeared, she stands there with momentary uncertainty that the battle is done. She surveys the field and sees many down, but she's especially drawn toward the figure in red stewlsilk in the midst of ash. Before she can even think about what she's doing, she's dashing full speed - injured knee be damned - toward the figure. Anyone who is paying attention to the Saik ladymight hear a series of 'no's being said as she goes beyond the line of soldiers to land on her knees. She checks the body for signs of life tentatively.

At a certain point, most battles become a blur of blood, sweat and bodies. The scorched blade in princess Denica's hand rips through the flesh of her enemies (or plant stuff?). The greater fight is a raging all around, but everything must come to an end, eventually. Heart pounding, as she witnesses the last of their foes fall, the flames firing into the sky, there's a brief moment of calm. Of respite. Of relief. This is the time she looks around her, trying to take stock of what is happening and who is standing and who might not be. Not dropping her weapon for a second, Denica uses her free hand to rub her face and move the hair from her eyes so she can see what's become of things.

The rising flames causes Enyo to throw up the arm not holding onto her sword to shield her eyes, her head ducking just a bit. Then the smoke and ash that are left as the flames die causes her to cough and choke, hand wiping at her eyes before she takes a look around to see just what remains. At first she doesn't notice the figure through the smoke and ash, until she spots her aunt running in that direction. The movement causes her eyes to shift out towards the fallen figure, and then she starts to run as well towards the crumpled figure.

Rosalind ducks from the fire, hiding her face with her cloak. When it's passed, she squints, waving her hand back and forth. Using her hand as a shield, she looks at the figure in red too. "What's that,"she asks. Or even who.

Aconite glances around, singed and blinking against the drifting heat and soot. She looks around and frowns at the scene but she doesn't focus on any one thing, not even trying to keep track of the various people she'd been looking out for. Eirene's call catches Aco's ears and she looks towards Medeia who's running towards the Tribune. She heads toward Pasquale to check on him gingerly.

Ryhalt's voice falters at the end, but luckily the Queen's magic has saved the day, so the troops don't have much left to need to be encouraged by him. He leads cheers as they appear victorious for the day. Now it's hopeful that those who went over to the Castle of Yesterday were having the same success.

Lys uses a hand at Eirene's back to brace her from the blast wave. The redhead herself using her other hand to cover her eyes. "Ah, fuck." She lets out when Eirene starts charging toward the unmoving figure. So she does the same, attempting to over take the healer and get there first incase it's trap.

Crawfish drops Joscelin.

Little blades like the dagger Lucita now uses may not do much damage but used strategically, on the plantgantuan equivalent of achilles tendon and the tendons behind knees can be effective to help keep them from stomping around and make them easier to destroy. And that is where she focuses her efforts, hack, slash, stabbity stab. She is so focused on disbling the mobility that when it starts to fall, it brushes by her sending her staggering to the side before she catches her footing. Ow! That is going to leave a pretty purple bruise later, a fairly large bruise but Lucita is caught up in the flow of the battle and ignores it. After turning her attention to another of the beasts, she flinches back at the blaze of fire and just looks over the battlesite and the field of ashes. She is speechless, arm dropping to her side with the dagger coated in sap and ichor dangling from her hand. "That.. that's all of them? What of the others, did they succeed, survive?"

Raymesin may be many things, but he isn't a man of honour. That's why he's to be found in behind the plantgantuans, slashing at the vines that serve as hamstrings, chopping into the backs of their knees, and generally making himself as much of a nuisance as a mere human can be a nuisance to giant plant-things that are on fire. The wave of heat has him sheltering behind the dying plantgantuans, before emerging again to keep stabbing them where the sun doesn't shine.

With a sound that's somewhat like silver chimes and steel hammers striking anvils, and a burst of muted golden light, Joscelin Arterius is just ... suddenly ... there. There's a look of painful focus on her face, features contorted with effort that seems to be abating now that she's stumbled into the battlefield. "Petraea...!" she's heard to gasp, panicked. Her gold eyes cast about, searching, desperate and then-

"NO!"

The cry bursts from her lips, alarm and fear and something else piercing the heat and the ash. With unerring grace and speed, the Crafter Guildmaster Emeritus is across the way, jumping over bodies, slag, puddles of blood and viscera, to get to the side of the Tribune.


"NO!" she shouts again, her hands reaching, her face streaked with ash and tears. Desperation and sorrow radiate from the plump, pretty woman, but above all that, there is abject helplessness. "Ianthe!" she cries, on her knees in the dirt, dragging the spent body of the Tribune into her lap, tears streaming. "Baby sister, no! NO! You can't do this, you can't, YOU CAN'T!" She's clutching at Petraea's clothes, pulling pressing her into her own chest like maybe if she tries hard enough, if she prays hard enough, cries hard enough, screams loud enough, she can prevent the inevitable, she can keep the Tribune -here-.

"Please, Ianthe. -Please-." Joscelin is sobbing, trying in vain to hold her sister there with her. "Don't go, if you go ..."

Her words trail off. If she says anything else, it's too quiet for anyone to hear, but on the wind of ash and smoldering enemies, there is singing; soft, tender singing, broken by quiet breaks as emotion becomes too much, a lullaby, the last one, sung from one sister to the other as Joscelin cradles Petraea, and rocks her in her arms.

The victory over the last of the plantgantuans shows Sydney's teeth flashing yet again. She's in fine form, the tide of battle is going well, in spite of the losses suffered. Then the fire begins to expand. Begins to burn hotter. And hotter. And larger. And where many soldiers may look upon it with hope as foe after foe immolates in its wake, it's the first thing since the battle began that causes Sydney to lose her step. She stumbles out of focus, the battle lust fading as she pulls up short. As the wall of flames encroaches, her eyes widen. She crosses her arms in front of her and breathlessly strains against the heat, several strands of her hair sizzling and sparking.

The shout. The name. The flames billowing up to the sky has Sydney tripping and screaming at the top of her lungs as she /scrambles/ to GET to the woman at the heart of that blaze. She wheels and trips, and claws at the dirt to get back up, stumbles again to her knees. "NO!"

Her voice cracks as a shriek meets a squeal as the grown woman sounds half a child. Joscelin is there before her. Sydney is quick on her heels, down in the dirt. "You-- you-- I thought there was more! I THOUGHT THERE WAS MORE."

Tesha can feel that heat, even as she's skewering one of the bugs that she hates so much. She felt that sort of heat from the dragons at Artshall. Still it makes her be quick about dodging things and not getting herself set on fire. Because that would suck. She hears the shouts for getting Pasquale and there is a worried look in her good eye, but he is in good hands! She then looks to the middle of all the mess and there is Petraea. She was about to head that way, but Joscelin appears out of nothingness and the redhead stops in her tracks for the moment. She had no idea what was going on except a sister mourning her sister.

Eirene skids to a stop when she sees Joscelin 'appear'. She just stops herself mid run. "What the abyss?" But it seems it's the opposite. Others, who clearly know more, are let to bypass her. She instead looks towards the direction Helena went and starts searching for a horse. "They will probably need backup, or a healer" she says as she rushes past Medeia. "Tend to the wounded," she yells to her medics and the gathered Mercy's. "I'm going to try to get to the castle."

Aconitehas some awareness of what's happening in the distance but she sighs with quiet relief as she checks Pasquale over. The sounds of the aftermath and the condition of her friend cause Aco's dark eyes shimmer but she allows no tears fall. She has some of Pasquale's men get him over to one of the wagons carrying the injured back to the city.

It isn't until Triton and Elora are reunited and then them with Rosalind that the blonde allows her attention to wander. As she hears Joscelin's cries however, she finds a new focus. In those dark blue eyes there is a heartbroken understanding, and her hand unthinkingly reaches for her husband's. "We should leave them to each other," she murmurs softly. "They can be of better comfort in their grief than with a stranger." With a heavy sigh, she looks at Triton. "Come. Let's gather the forces back and take stock of what remains."

Medeia scrabbles back, like a crab, to get out of the way of Joscelin and Sydney. There's apparently nothing she can do, and she doesn't try to interrupt.

The Tribune is still alive, barely, but there is Something Wrong. Whoever approaches would realize it immediately as the woman is slowly turning to ash right before them. She sees Joscelin first and manages a faint smile before she mutters, "Sorry, Josie. So sorry." Then, there is Sydney and Petraea's smile deepens as she says with the last breath left in her ruined body, "The more is you. Always was. Everything I'm not." And then, it ends and whatever was left Tribune Petraea Livy, once, an age ago, called Ianthe Artusio, fades to ash to be caught up in the winter wind.

Petraea has died.

Rosalind looks over at Elora and Triton, unsure of who anyone is. She nods her head though, agreeing. They soundl ike they need their family. That said, she limps off with her twin and now sister. "I got bit by a stupid bug, you know!"

Lys comes to an abrupt stop as well. She skids a little and turns her head attention away from the scene of the dying tribune, to leave those to grieve in privacy. Her eyebrows pinch together and a little shake of her head is given. A dip of her chin is given toward Eirene and she says, "Where you go, I go." Her dagger is pulled back out.

With the incineration of the monsters, Liara looks ahead, the plantgantuans disposed of. At first, she calls, simply, "Hold!" Moments pass as she takes stock and then, seeing nothing but ash ahead, she slowly reaches up to draw her helm off. Eventually, she exhales, and steps out in front of the line. Not towards the red-clad figure, but just enough to be visible to her soldiers. "Victory," she utters, a word audible first and foremost to those in her personal retinue, but it is swiftly taken up as a cheer along the length of the line. Some further direction to her officers follows, to tend the wounded, post a watch and have the army be ready for a time in case more trouble might show, and then the Princess of Bastion turns again to simply survey the ash-strewn field.

Raymesin exhales at the sights before him, then steps quietly back into the shadows.

The swell of her troops around her, coordinated at last, affords Magaen precious moments to survey her surrounds. This moment is given to directing her people to support the attack of the plant-things rather than charging headlong into unfamliar battle. There are generals who know this enemy better than she, and there is no shame in deferring to what works. Where they can, they move in on the plantgantuans, so set on them that the rush of heat finds them unready, unready but blessedly far enough away that they aren't consumed by it. They fall back, exhausted, nursing the cost of being just a touch too near the flames.

Lou gets in a few more rounds of fighting, helping to kill off scythe creatures and plantgantuans alike. When it seems the battle is abating she takes some time to observe her surroundings. Eyes fall toward wherever the cry of Zhayla comes from, alighting at first on the armor, then Joscelin is there, screaming in denial about Petraea. She gives both women a sad look, of understanding, as she notes Petraea's state. She turns away from the scene to give them the intimate privacy they deserve and says to others around her. "We should get a head count, see who is left... who survived." A gruesome duty, but something that needs doing.

Lucita approaches Joscelin after wiping her blade off and sheathing it. She shows an expression of compassion, does not crowd the woman nor gawk. She tries not to intrude on the parting, she just extends a hand in an expression of sympathy when enough time has passed that Joselin may wish it.

Enyo skids to a stop near-by, but keeps her distance when it's painfully obvious and clear that there is a lot of high-emotion riding the tide. She remains quiet for a moment, her sword hanging from her hand, the tip dragging on the ash covered burnt out ground, when she finally does manage to come up with words, it's one simple, single word, "Fuck."

Tesha gives a look over the landscape and she gives a soft shake of her head to something that Cora says to her, "We'll regroup and help get the wounded to where they can get medical attention and move those that did not survive the battle." she tells her guard. The redhead didn't have time to stop. She needed to make sure that things were still moving or she was going to scream.

Elora puts noble cupridium bow with pewter and silver accents in exquisite leather quiver.

Elora puts enchanted golden wolf oathlands style dagger in black leather belt bag for healers.

Aconite has stayed behind after sending Pasquale off. She then starts working on getting other wounded organized as she promised she would. Her expression is hard to read for the mask over her face but her emotions aren't necessary for her to work with the wounded.

"NO!" Joscelin screams, clutching her baby sister's ashes to her chest. She screams the word again and again and again, louder, and louder, until the world around her seems to reverberate with her grief. Color bleeds out around her into lifeless, dull hues, and everyone there on the battlefield can feel it, see it: despair, grief, -loss-, sharp and heavy and it cuts through to the heart.

Those that can still see her, that can still focus on what's left of Petraea, once Ianthe, and Joscelin, will feel for one, horrible moment like the air has been sucked from them. There is no breath available, no thought, just a suspended moment that seems to stretch on, both instant and forever. Silence blankets here, there is no hope, no grief; there is nothing beyond the scene of sorrow that won't seem to end.

And then-

-a sound like fabric ripping but that doesn't do it justice. The air and the world seems to be tearing a hole open, centered around Joscelin and her deceased sister. The Emeritus Guildmaster is the picture of grief, her scream frozen, face contorted-

-and then, her features suddenly go slack.

And from her steps a woman that is her, and isn't her, curls tight, movements sharp, jarring, twitching. This new Joscelin steps clear of the original, the original unmarred, unchanged, her face dull with emptiness. The new Joscelin continues to step away, free and clear, her face crippling upward in a terrible, manic smile. She peers about the battlefield, looks back at the original Joscelin, throws back her head to laugh shrill and maniacal, shoulders twisted in a parody of life and undulation as she stalks off, away-

...and disappears.

Joscelin remains, Petraea's ashes on her face, lap, and arms, as still and as quiet and a statue for the space of thirteen heartbeats; then, she stands wordlessly and turns into a golden shadow, golden motes dancing with her sister's ashes before fading away.

Enyo checks composure at daunting. Enyo is successful.

Medeia checks composure at daunting. Medeia is successful.

Eirene checks composure at daunting. Eirene fails.

Denica checks composure at daunting. Denica marginally fails.

Tesha checks composure at daunting. Tesha fails.

Raymesin checks composure at daunting. Raymesin marginally fails.

Lys checks composure at daunting. Lys marginally fails.

Ryhalt checks composure at daunting. Ryhalt fails.

Aconite checks composure at daunting. Aconite is successful.

Magaen checks composure at daunting. Magaen fails.

Lucita checks composure at daunting. Lucita is successful.

Lou checks composure at daunting. Lou marginally fails.

Rosalind checks composure at daunting. Rosalind fails.

Liara checks composure at daunting. Botch! Liara fails completely.

Aconitefeels the heaviness in the air. She feels the pain of those around her but her face sets

Sydney's fingers are trembling as she fiercely shakes her head. She reaches out to clasp at one of Petraea's hands, her eyes freely spilling tears as she tries desperately to cling to her as she speaks. She forces a ragged smile onto her lips as Petraea turns to look at her, and she does her very best to smile through the tears. Like it's fulfilling some sort of promise. To Petraea. To herself.

"You're loved." She whispers.

And then, in a heartbeat, in a moment, there's nothing but ash, slipping between her fingers.

She clutches her fingertips together and brings her closed hand close to her chest. Her shoulders hunch, and with no one left to keep that unspoken promise to any longer, her composure is shattered. She upturns her eyes to Joscelin, her lips wrenching all over the place in her attempt to bring some manner of stability to her features. But... then everything is worse. So much worse.

She stares transfixed as Joscelin... tears. And she stares, brokenly at the /thing/ that is left laughing. She franticly shakes her head as Joscelin begins to fracture and shimmer, and when she disappears, the effect is instant. She collapses into a wailing, squealing, ugly-crying mess. "AUNT PETRAEA!"

Lou is no stranger to grief. Grief has been a thing in her life for the last few years. It's the whole reason she built a statue of her lost family members, about to be unveiled on the morrow, to help work out her grief. However, that grief was expected. This grief, that she's feeling right now, is both a shock and a surprise to her. However, she /understands/ it all too well. She can't help the tears which flow down her face as she's drawn back to Joscelin's predicament with her sister. Lou's lost family. Had to re=kill them herself even. That feeling is all too raw when she witnesses what's unfolding. She snuffles loudly and wipes her nose on the edge of her cloak, then clears her throat and says. "I need to get back into the city. There's things to be done." Like hammering out the last bits of the statue to make sure they are perfect. A good way to channel her grief.

Eirene is handed the reins of a horse by one of her aides. "Go see to the city. Make sure the Solace and the Grace are safe and they didn't get in through any of the tunnels. Get the wounded off the battlelines in case those planty fucks regroup or regrow. But that kind of burn I doubt there's anything left. The Solace is safe, get the wounded there." She turns to Lys and smirks. "Are you my shadow, now? If they didn't stop Helena, I need you to ride back here as fast as you can and organize the city defences." But then she just freezes in place as reality rips apart and she bears witness to the mirror image of Joscelin step free. She stands stunned. Blinking. Dazed.

Then the grief kicks in - the loss Eirene just witnessed, coupled with the loss of her own soldiers; the whole ordeal overtakes her and she sinks to her knees with her hands over her eyes and weeps. The kind of grief known only to someone who has known so much heartache, pain, and loss - all ripped raw within her. All her years of deaths in battle, followers, friends, lovers, and family alike.

With this on top of the exhaustion of battle, Ryhalt sits down quietly and starts to weep at the gravity that's happened.

Tesha's seen horrors. She really has. But sometimes you see something that just...makes your skin want to crawl off. She watches as the doppel Joscelin comes forth and her face is as pale as the snow on the ground. Grief clamps down on her. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" the lady sobs as she bumps into Cora and then back in enough time to see the manic smile one just /DISAPPEAR/. "Oh no..." she reaches up to try to stop the tears, but she can't. Then she's hurrying off to see if there was anyway to pick up where that thing disappeared to. Like a crazy sobbing person does.

Aconitefeels the heaviness in the air. She feels the pain of those around her but her face sets into hard determination and none of the moisture lingering on her lashes dares fall. Perhaps not so unusual for the Radiant Whisper to remain composed. It helps that she is allowed to hide behind the purpose she'd been given by Eirene and Medeia.

While Islanders, especially Thrax are not known for their open displays of emotions, princess Denica is often the exception to that rule. It doesn't take much for the artist to show her emotions and for tears to stream down her face. A situation like this? The emotions that she feels from everyone around her, the grueling battle they've just fought, the open loss and the tears that flow from the features of her friends? Denica sobs. The young woman cries for those fallen, she cries for those that are injured, she cries for the people she's lost and never quite processed. Denica cries. Large, messy tears that stream down her pale cheeks turning them red. The fight is oven and now she just drops to her knees and lets her tears water the ground below.

There's a few blinks, but Enyo manages to keep whatever thoughts firmly inside her head for the moment. Mostly because there's a //lot// going on, and she just moves in Sydney's direction, a hand reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. There's no words, none, just a silent patting.

She knows it's not helpful.

Rosalind knows grief. And she feels it the moment she witnesses it. It was the same when she lost her family and friends. Her heart grows heavy, her eyes wet. Rosa isn't one to shy from her feelings and she finds herself lowering her head in sadness for the loss of someone she didn't even know, the tears freely flowing.

Lucita backs away from where she was standing to offer help and sympathy. One step, two.. three-four-five are taken in quick succession. "Gods have mercy on us all." She turns and quicksteps toward Eirene and Medeia but keeps the site of the strangness. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears though she clings narrowly to her composure. "Sad, so very sad."

Someone whose army rallies to her when she's flipping out on some poor plant-victim probably isn't so skilled at keeping her shit together. So, though her back is to the once-source of the wall of fire, though she is caught in assessing her troops and couldn't possibly know what might have brought it on, when the air is pulled from her, split-seconds or no, Magaen is brought to her knees, head bowed, hand pressed to her chest. When finally there is air to be had, it's spent giving force behind waves of sobbing.

Perhaps it is shock that keeps Medeia so calm, or some cumulative effect of horrors witnessed over the years that allows her to watch this without losing her damn mind. Her eyes are transfixed by the new, darker Joscelin as she walks away. The briefest glance toward Tesha at her question, then, she's standing and brushing ash from herself. There's no saving Petraea, there's no stopping Joscelin's reflection, there's no... She looks around the battlefield and catches her breath. "I need to go see to the wounded."

Lys glances back over her shoulder at the scream. Her green eyes widening as grief permeates the world. It steals its way into her heart and her fingers just let go of bloody blade so it drops into the dirt. And then she is dropping into the dirt next to it. First landing to her knees and then pitching forward, rolling to curl onto her side. Soft laughter escapes from her at first. For Lys always laughed in the face of her grief but it is too much. Her peels of laughter transform to high pitched screaming wails as she curls into the fetal position in the dirt. Her arms wrapping around her chest as she sobs to herself, "No no no no... No. no... no... no! Oh gods. No." She pulls her knees in tight to sobbing, "Why my love, please don't leave me... come home, please, oh god." She babbles to herself, "Don't leave me, gods, please. Everyone is gone, gone, gone... My prince gone... Audric gone, Shard gone, no Auda, No Enyo, no Deimos. no one... Everyone, gone.." Her babbling becomes nonsensical.

From the depths of the shadows into which the black-armoured Raymesin vanished, there comes a sobbing wail of pure grief - a wail that tails off into sobs, and then into silence.

Sydney leans into Enyo's hand, even if the comfort it provides is... not completely evident. The young woman looks up, choking back sobs, gasping, hiccuping. She looks around, looks at the battlefield. At the handful of ashes that darken her hands, and she frees the weapons from her hands. Numbly stows them, her hand lowering to her boot. A small, thin little dagger.

She draws it.

She tilts it toward her neck - her opposing hand lifts, and with a jagged see-sawing motion, she plunges it into her... hair. And cuts. And /cuts/. That long mane that stretches damn near to the ground jostles, falling around her. Away.

It scatters all around her, and she's left with a terrible mess of shoulder length crimson hair.

Eirene dries her eyes with her steelsilk scarf as she comes up to her feet. "I have to... get to the Castle," she reminds herself. Choking back a sob, a sniffle. She looks at Lys and offers a hand. "Enyo's still here," she reassures her. "My niece ain't dead." She doesn't know about the rest of the list Lys rattled off but she's not touching the subject of Auda.

Medeia retreats, slowly at first so as not to disrupt the rest of the people near her. Once she's back among the field of scattered corpses, she breaks into a run, carefully picking her way through to the other side and heading for fallback point and the city to see the healing that needs to be done.

While Enyo kept her composure before, when Sydney cuts her //hair// she looks positively horrified. "Oh...no..." Oh, no. She then glances towards Eirene, lifting her shoulders in a bit of a shrug, "Last I checked. Deimos is still alive too. Unless something's happened since the start of all this..." She waves the hand not pat-pat-patting at Sydney around to indicate what //this// is. Then she turns her attention back to Sydney, reaching down to grasp her elbow to start trying to help her to her feet, leaning down to murmur to her, "This too you will survive."

Lys checks willpower at hard. Lys is successful.

No creepy doubles? Well, that's not reassuring. Tesha is a mess and she's definitely going to be in Aethan's alcohol if she can get to it after all of this. She tries to will herself to stop her tears, to push the grief out...but it's not going anywhere. "Cora." she whispers hoarsely, "Please see that our men that are wounded are taken to where medical attention is given. If they want to return to Telmar that is fine. For the moment I need to try to compose myself and not cause Arn to rise from his grave to tell me to get it together." she tells her fellow red head.

Tears are still streaming down Lys' face, little sobs escaping her but Eirene's got a hand out toward here and hey look-- Enyo is in fact /right there/. Lys looks briefly taken aback like she's look at a ghost. Her lips part and but no words come out. Still crying she rolls onto her knees and she takes her dagger back up. Her chin lifts and she says to Eirene, "To the castle then, my lady."

Rosalind is still crying, her leathers likely as wet as after the rains. Wiping her eyes, she quickly hurries after her family.

Aconitenods to Medeia as she passes. The Whisper determined to stay in the field as long as it needs to clear the field. Careful not to disturb those in mourning. First the wounded and then the dead. She'll stay as long as necessary.

The patch of blackness that is Raymesin emerges from the shadows, making his way towards Eirene without any sign of his usual grace.

The blade tumbles from Sydney's fingers, and she shakes her head. It's quite easy to do, now, after all. She reaches up and seizes hold of Enyo, dragging her down off of her feet and throwing her arms around her, shoving her face against her shoulder. There aren't words yet. Plenty of time for words later.

Eirene clasps a hand on Raymesin's upper arm. She's not tall enough to reach one on his shoulder. "Grab a horse, we're going to back them up," she tells him, her eyes red from wweeping. She motions to Lys to follow. "I don't think the castle has fallen, I think we'd -all- know if it had fallen and that blighted psychopath would be up all over us."

Raymesin grabs a horse, by the simple expedient of finding one and growling at whoever's on it until they get off. He brings it over to Eirene, and it seems that someone's definitely been cutting onions near him, or perhaps it got really dusty around here. Either way, in the shadows of his hood there's the gleam of eyes, and the gleam of liquid flowing down from them.

Eirene mounts the horse and motions for the pair to follow her. She knows where she's going, apparently. She rides as quick as she can for the place Helena was headed.

Lys leaves, following Eirene.

"Ooop!" Enyo yelps when Sydney drags her down instead of her helping Sydney up, the hand with her sword moving to make sure that everything remains unstabbed. Then she starts to pat Sydney's shoulder, then her hair, and just strives for comfort while she lets Sydney just cry it out.

Lucita watches as Eirene starts to leave. She moves along toward the path back to Arx, lending help to those who are walking wounded till they can get to a medical facility.

Eyes bloodshot, face a little red, picking herself up from the ground, Denica looks around briefly before she heads towards the forest. There's a flicker of concern in her eyes and questions to answer, before she can rest. There's a small nod given to those around her, appreciative and quiet.

Magaen's lieutenant, stooped with grief herself, manages to shake Magaen into motion. Their movement is sluggish, but Magaen and her people push through, make their way back toward the city.



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